Start the week #58

Two near-misses, a writing course, book reviews, my reworking of Macbeth, jazz, sax, links

Greetings!

I always like to write something amusing, erudite or uplifting in this section, but as I can’t think of anything at the moment this intro is as short as it is pointless. So, with no further ado, enough of this persiflage! On with the newsletter.

An almost early demise

This esteemed publication nearly ceased production rather abruptly last week. Minty, one of the feline parasites residing in Freedman Towers, ran out into the road and almost got run over while I nearly had a heart attack. At least the driver stopped to make sure we didn’t have an ex-Minty.

Five minutes later she ran out again, this time in front of a van. I ran out in front of the van too, in order to stop it. A pretty stupid thing to do when you think about it, but it was instinctive. Here’s a still of me from the van’s dashcam footage:

One of the problems here is that a lot of drivers mistake our road for the circuit at Brands Hatch. An easy error to make I suppose, given the similarities. I mean, they both have tarmac for a start.

So all I can say to you if you’re reading this and you haven’t subscribed, you’d better get a move on while I’m still here.

The writing course I’m teaching

Oh, and while I’m doing a bit of self-promotion, get a load of this:

Last week I asked an AI bot thingy to write me a press release, and it came up with this strapline about yours truly:

Redefining the boundaries of literary imagination

Pretty good, eh? In fact, I like it so much I’m going to say it again:

Redefining the boundaries of literary imagination

Anyway, if you wish to learn how to redefine the boundaries of literary imagination, sign up for my course. Find out more here:

Creative writing using constraints

Humble bragging in the 19th century

I’m currently reading Pride and Prejudice, which was written by Jane Austen and published in 1813. Every other page has a gem, and I laughed out loud at this one, which was a bit embarassing as I was sitting on the tube at the time:

“Nothing is more deceiptful,”, said Darcy, “than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast.”

Kalder vs Parker

Here’s something I found very chortlesome. In Dictator Literature, Kalder says of Mussolini’s book The Cardinal’s Mistress:

[…] although it is by no means good, at times it at least borders on the readable.

“Borders on the readable.”? Talk about being damned by faint praise.

Here is an extract from Dorothy Parker’s take on it, written contemporaneously:

When I am given a costume romance beginning, "From the tiny churches hidden within the newly budding verdure of the valleys, the evensong of the Ave Maria floated gently forth and died upon the lake”, my only wish is that I, too, might float gently forth and die, and I'm not particular whether it's upon the lake or on dry land.

For another example of overblown writing, but deliberately and consciously so, you might like to read this version of my story A Bang on the Head. It’s part of my Experiments in Style series.

Macbeth reimagined

Click here to see this on Amazon

As I mentioned recently, the book Triggered cites some academic or other positing the view that Macbeth exemplifies toxic masculinity, which I feel is a bit of a one-sided portrayal of what actually went on. I mean, Mrs Macbeth egged him on a bit. I know if my wife asked me to bump off a few rivals, being the sort of person who likes to avoid arguments I’d probably say, “OK dear. And would you like me to get some shopping on the way home?” So you see, that would be an example of toxic masculinity and reconstructed new-man-ness. In other words, it’s a bit more nuanced than that academic would have us believe.

In order to get this point across, I’m in the process of rewriting Macbeth for a modern audience. Here’s an extract¹:

Big fanfare as King Duncan enters, stage left.

Macbeth: Good morrow, your highness. We’ve made up the spare bedroom for you.

Duncan: Oh good, I’m knackered. I think I’ll turn in now if you don’t mind.

Macbeth: Your wish is my command, O magnanimous one. Ho, servant! Take my master to the spare bedroom, then bring him a cup of hot chocolate.

Duncan and servant exit, stage right.

Mrs Macbeth: Well?

Macbeth: What do you mean, ‘well’?

Mrs Macbeth: You going to let that so-called king sleep in our castle and then carry on reigning when he wakes up?

Macbeth: Er…

Mrs Macbeth: Bump him off, then you can be king. Are you a man or a mouse?

Macbeth: What are you going to do while I’m doing that?

Mrs Macbeth: To cover the noise I’m going to put on a record at full volume. Etc

It’s clearly only a matter of time before I’m offered the Nobel prize for literature.

Sax chronicles

I’m currently learning to play the sax, and I’m somewhere between the consciously incompetent stage and the consciously competent stage in the conscious-competence-learning model. Skewed towards the former I think.

Here’s a painting I did before I learnt how to paint.

Saxophonist, by Terry Freedman. Acrylic on cartridge paper.

As it happens I still can’t paint, so I’m afraid that’s as good as it gets. Anyway, last year I wrote an article about jazz, called All That Jazz. I discovered yesterday that my sax teacher at the City Lit, David Harrison, has written an article called Why learn Jazz? Embracing Transformation, Musicality & Expression. The main difference between his article and mine is that David knows what he’s talking about. Do read it.

A favourite record

Here’s a record that is among my favourites. Uplifting lyrics, great beat, pleasant sax solo (even though a bit pedestrian in my opinion), and the backing “singers”, and “sax player” are quite amusing:

Links

My latest experiment in style post is here, and it is very bizarre: Reversed letters.

Paying subscribers get behind the scenes info on many of these posts. At the moment I have two premium articles in the pipeline. One is about other examples of reimagining texts. The other is about how to judge newsletter success using measures other than the usual ones. If that appeals, upgrade here:

I also wrote to

Rebecca Holden

:

She will be replying on her newsletter, which you will find here:

I haven’t had enough time to read as much as I’d have liked to in the past week, and having a semi-permanent toothache hasn’t helped. But I did read this and I found it hilarious:

Review of One Day, by

Kate Darracott

A survey

(With hardly any questions.)

That’s it for now, thank you for reading. Do leave a comment, and remember: if you can get to London on the 8th June you’ll be able to do my creative writing with constraints course.

1. Part of my “Who says Shakespeare could write? Not me!” series.