James' Weblog

Another year, another issue of LeftLion with an illustration of the Council House on the front cover. It’s a gorgeous drawing of Nottingham spilling out of Ronika’s brain, but I’m sick of seeing the Council House. My fear is that it reinforces the idea that there aren’t any other iconic buildings in Notts or that we, and by implication our readers, have a serious lack of imagination. I particularly resent the Council House appearing on the cover as the Council Tax is going up this year. Nottingham being the only city in Britain to do so, despite the government stating it would cover extra costs to ensure the price remained frozen nationally. The sneaky gets aren’t raising it above 3% though as then we would be entitled to a referendum.

My favourite two LeftLion covers to date are the ‘Byron Clough’ because it brought together two powerful personalities and ‘Another shooting in Nottingham’ because it had bollocks the size of Zeppelin balloons. (It had a pop at media exaggerations of Shottingham but was in fact about a new film). I’d like to see more issues-based covers, like the Occupy Movement but with them occupying the Fish Man’s Basket or something along those lines. Anything but that bureaucratic temple that bans the public from sitting on its steps.

I’ve been really busy recently putting together a second proposal for The Space/BBC project after being shortlisted through the Alan Sillitoe Committee, therefore LeftLion has taken second place. Consequently, I had to turn down a once in a lifetime opportunity of attending a staff meal with the Thompson Brothers. Literature wise I was keen to celebrate and support the inaugural National Libraries Day on 4 February and contacted various librarians, authors, publishers and trade union reps to build up a balanced perspective for a feature. Unfortunately nobody got back to me apart from Ross Bradshaw, who, as always, was incredibly insightful. I can’t stress enough how helpful it is to have someone like him at hand for advice. It’s difficult to get angry at the local librarians for their apathy when their opening hours are being slashed from 601 to 311 and they’re expected to do the same job but with fewer hands and in half the time. I’ve worked in the public sector and it’s utterly demoralising and thankless.

In the end I interviewed Alan Gibbons (thanks Ross) who is responsible for the celebrations and gave a really passionate and informative picture of how the cuts will affect the wider community. Knowing libraries would be covered in some shape or form meant we had time to commission a fantastic illustration by Si Mitchell. The illustration brief was based on the feature I was hoping to write but Cameron ripping open the Central library is still as fitting. The question is why wasn’t Central Library on the front cover instead of the Council House?

Book wise we managed to get in nine reviews of which three were self-published. I had the pleasure of reviewing Jon McGregor’s new short story collection but only had a couple of days to read it as he leant me his only copy. Rushing through such a beautiful book with such a tight turnaround was a bit like ordering a three course meal from Harts, whacking it in a blender, and then downing it like a pint. But it was worth it to get a review in the magazine a week before the publication date. Makes us seem professional. Katie Half-Price was as fun as usual and it was particularly good to have a pop at The Fat Years, which despite being championed in the press is a great concept but an awful read. Now it’s time to get back to that Space bid…

Interview with Helen Pollard who has worked for 46 years as a librarian.

Issue 45

Annelise Atkinson joined me at the Nottingham Writers’ Studio on the 18 January for a discussion on zines. Annelise runs the Caribou Caravan, a specialist boutique that makes and sells zines, cards, reconditioned typewriters and my personal favourite, cups with moustaches. The caravan is currently situated in Hopkinson’s Gallery but will soon be leaving to visit various arts and craft fairs up-and-down the country.

I invited Annelise to the studio for two reasons. Firstly, she’s an independent business and so needs as much support as possible. Being aware of various literature organisations and marketing herself more specifically to writers and readers could be essential for her survival. I’ve since been in contact with Ross Bradshaw to see if we can hold a similar discussion at Lowdham Book Festival. At first, I think Annelise was a little bit sceptical and thought I was after some kind of introduction fee for helping her out. Quite simply, I think what’s she’s doing is fantastic and I’d like to try and support her as much as possible. Independent businesses are closing down at an alarming rate in Nottingham – Lilly and Pinks being the latest – so unless we all pull together in whatever way we can, we’re destined for a bland city centre comprising of Tescos, Tescos and Tescos.

Secondly, it was an appropriate discussion for the studio as zines are a really viable option for writers at various stages of their career, something we tend to forget in the digital age. Zines offer collaboration with artists, encourage writers to be focussed through niche and specific topics, give experience of production and publishing, are accessible and affordable, can be used to promote work through spin-offs (thoughts from a character in your latest novel/poetry collection/extract from book etc) but most importantly, offer the opportunity of publication.

I was bought a Kindle for Christmas and I hate it. Functionally, it can’t be knocked. It holds loads of books and you can quickly search terms and phrases which are useful for research. But it’s an ugly brute. There is nothing magical or beautiful about it. Zines, on the other hand, are produced with love. They conjure the aura and essence that Walter Benjamin wrote of and are a reminder of the importance of the physical relationship we have when reading. Texture, touch and smell are just as important as words. That’s why we judge a book by its cover – and the kindle cover is generic.

Generally speaking zines take ages to make, any profit is negligible, they are produced in small runs and are read by a small niche audience. There’s something gorgeously futile about them – at least in relation to today’s values. But it would be a mistake to see them purely as an antidote to the Facebook generation as a lot use social networking websites for submissions or to promote work. Flicking through the zines reminded me of childhood and the excitement of waiting for my comic to come through the letterbox at 7am on a Saturday morning. You just don’t get that excitement with digital technology. You may have the world at your fingertips but there’s nothing tangible in your hand. That’s why there’s going to be a resurgence in zines. I hope.

Read an interview with Annelise Atkinson