First up, I’m thrilled to tell you that I’ll be the fiction judge for Slingink’s Scribbling Slam, starting September 20th. I’m looking forward to it very much.
I’ve also been interviewed by @Sleepycatt on her blog here – where she even gets me to do a bit of free writing.
Number two. I noticed yesterday that the good chap (and Literary World Cup Organiser) Benjamin Judge has, with a couple of other writers, set up a new literary e-zine. It is Roy Keane’s Lucky Scarf.
I popped over to it, liked what I saw and asked Benjamin if he fancied popping over here to talk about it. And, top bloke that he is, he said yes and was rather speedy in sending over something. So, I leave you in Benjamin’s capable hands…
Nik, being a very nice man indeed, is allowing us to hijack his blog for one post so we can tell you about our new literary e-zine Roy Keane’s Lucky Scarf. Perhaps you might like to pop over and have a browse at our work. Nik likes it, and you like Nik, so you might like us too.
OK. Why did I set it up and what is it?
We wanted to set up a literary site but one that was a bit different. There are hundreds of sites that publish peoples stuff but the best ones are often the ones with a theme, that make the writer stick to a form or a word limit. We decided that we would make ourselves, and anyone who wants to contribute to the site, stick to a really strict set of topics: Roy Keane, luck, scarves, or a combination of the three. There is a method in this madness though. The restrictions force the writer to use their imagination, to ask themselves how they can come up with a new way of telling a story or approaching a poem. It is always good practice for writers to try to do something different and often it can be a lot of fun too.
So what is it? A slightly different approach to the literary e-zine. A site that is hopefully presents a challenge to writers and is also a place where readers can come along to find a few surprises and have a laugh or two.
And why did we set it up? Well, the simple answer is because we thought people might like it.’
As well as work by the four of us we want to put up poems, short stories and flash fiction by you lot too. There is a Submissions page on the site telling you what we are after but to put it in a nutshell we are looking for things about Roy Keane, luck and/or scarves.
Roy Keane’s Lucky Scarf is a metaphor. A metaphor for life. Roy Keane is a fiction. He is what you make of him. What you make him. Do not let yourself be restricted by the rules of the site. No. Be liberated by them. Roy Keane is whatever you write him to be.
I really hope you like our site, and that you will all think about contributing a little something too. As Cristophe says, don’t let the subject matter hamper you. Let your imagination run free.
As a special treat, and to give you an idea of what sort of thing you might do, here is an exclusive Roy Keane story that won’t be appearing anywhere else.
The Wedding List
You sign a few bits and bobs and then they give you a zapper. They work like this: you zap the bar-codes of the things you want on your wedding list and when you finish zapping you take them back to the Wedding List Co-ordinator and she plugs them into a computer and ‘ping’ your wedding list is on the internet for all your guests to browse through.
We walked through the bedroom and bathroom departments zapping bed sheets and towels, pillow cases and toothbrush holders for our new house. It was fun. It was like a big shopping spree but with someone else picking up the bill. At first we felt a bit guilty zapping anything that cost more than fifteen pounds but you soon get into the swing of it. Zap zap zap. It isn’t like anyone is under any compulsion to buy anything, and as the Wedding List Co-ordinator said; it is better to have too many things on the list than too few.
It was when we reached the kitchen department that I noticed Roy Keane was following us. I had started eyeing up a ridiculously large barbeque. Jo said not to be silly. That it was too big for our house and too expensive for the list. She said she would meet me by the toasters when I had finished drooling. She wandered off smiling to herself thinking, I hope, about what a loveable idiot she was marrying.
When she was out of sight Roy Keane approached me. He told me to zap it, said it was a proper man’s barbeque, asked me if I was a proper man, said a proper man would own a proper barbeque. I told him to leave me alone, that I could make up my own decisions without bowing to peer pressure. I asked Roy Keane what business of his it was whether I owned a massive barbeque or not. Still, I zapped the barbeque before I walked over to Jo to help pick out a new toaster, and I zapped a set of giant skewers too.