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

After this Austintatious indulgence I moved on to the latest interpretation of Dickens classic Great Expectations which ran for three consecutive nights from the 27^th December. So far there have been over 400 films and TV series based on his work but this one seemed to cause particular offence, largely due to the casting. This time around Gillian Anderson joined Florence Reed (1934), Martita Hunt (1946), Maxine Audley (1967), Margaret Leighton (1974), Joan Hickson (1981), Jean Simmons (1989), Anne Bancroft (1998), Charlotte Rampling (1999) in the role of Miss Havisham. No doubt her recent outing in The Crimson Petal and the White (2011) and her previous incarnation as Dana Scully gave Anderson the spooky edge for the role. But the Beeb missed a trick here because Rebekah Brooks would have been perfect – bitter, betrayed, manipulative and wealthy. But it was the casting of Estella that surprised me. Estella is a ‘breaker of men’s hearts’, something which Izzy Meikle-Small is not. Having said that, when they cast the ‘suitably attractive’ Gwyneth Paltrow as Estelle in Alfonso Cuaron’s 1988 version, she was made too likeable so I guess you just can’t win.   

Great Expectations has a long history on the screen, with at least one version produced every decade. The first version was as a silent film in 1917 staring Jack Pickford and directed by Robert G. Vignola. It has since resulted in serials of varying lengths, a West End musical in 1975 staring Sir John Mills, and an animated children’s version in 1983. However, each time something has caused offence to the pedants. Goodness knows what they’ll make of David Nicholls version later this year which comes with a new ending: Helen Bonham Carter – who plays Miss Havisham – turns into a monkey. Honest.

There’s been so many adaptations now that I honestly can’t remember what’s in the book and what’s been invented on screen. But it’s still a win-win situation for literature as the hype has increased book sales. There are currently three different editions of Great Expectations in the top ten of the Accelerators chart, published by Wordsworth, the BBC and Penguin.

So, why this book? It’s quite simply a work of immense beauty and imagination that weaves together folklore, allegories and eccentric characters against the backdrop of a young doctor’s search to discover more about her beloved and recently deceased grandfather. It’s also about a nation’s history, mythologising Yugoslavia in a similar way to Salman Rushdie’s exploration of India in Midnight’s Children. Better still, it’s half the size of Rushdie’s tome. The structure is a little bit like a Russian Doll, with a story inside a story inside a story so that you’re a little unsure what is real and what is made up and where it will all end.

Tracing a family’s experience of war from the Nazi invasion of World War II to the more recent Serbian conflict, there are lots of stories that need to be told. ‘Culture is a whole way of conflict’ wrote Stuart Hall, adapting Raymond Williams’ famous observation. We make sense of the world through these conflicting ideas and so superstition, myth and fact all combine to paint a complex, textured picture of the Balklands. There is no single truth that fits all, particularly in the surreal and irrational world of war. Here stories take on magical qualities. They are ageless. They transcend life and death. They live on through people, transforming each time according to the personality and emphasis of the speaker.

What makes this book such a beautiful read is it’s not just another aftermath of war story. It pulls the reader right inside and asks them what story they want to believe in much the same way that Yann Martel did with The Life of Pi. One particularly striking image was a description of animals eating their offspring in a zoo, locked in as the bombs rained down across the city. Although this may have been a metaphor for Yugoslavia turning in upon itself it was also a powerful reminder of how many marginalised voices go unheard, all of whom are equal in their pain. And of course it’s far easier to rationalise death through abstractions, and perhaps the best way.

Quite remarkably the author is only twenty-five. I can only imagine that she has some very interesting relatives that she wisely took the time to listen to. Now I’ll try and remember that when I visit my ninety-two-year-old grandma over Christmas.

It’s for this reason I’ve done something I’ve never done before; I’ve applied for an Arts Council Grant of £21,000 for their The Space project. I’ve thought about doing this for LeftLion before but have always been put off by the hellish bureaucracy that it entails, figuring any amount of money is not worth the wanton waste of hours such form filling requires. But on this occasion, I’ve seen each question like a lap being run by Colin Smith and have refused to give in. I’m not going to say what the bid was for because it’s such a fantastic idea, someone else may rob it. As Sillitoe said, ‘if it’s not tied down, tek it.’ I find out on the 21st December if we’ve made it to the shortlist and if we’re lucky, then the real bureaucratic agony will begin. I hope so because it’s a fantastic opportunity that will bring national coverage as well as offering access to the BBC archives and digital support.

One great thing about raising funds is the way that members of the public approach you with ideas or are keen to support in numerous ways. For example, John Aram recently performed a night of music inspired by SNASM and kindly allowed us to go around with the collection buckets and allowed Alan’s son, David to give a brief talk about our plans prior to the concert. Alan, I’m sure, would be touched by the many different ways in which his work is being kept alive and by the genuine support of the local community.

Another recent event Who’s Alan Stiletto? was organised by Mark Shotta, a local DJ who put on a music event at The Maze on 1st December, featuring local bands Old Basford, Wholesome Fish, and Howlin Black. My highlight of that night was seeing author and Basford Ward Councillor Cat Arnold moshing to the music of Old Basford. Talk about wholeheartedly supporting anything to do with her ward! I wonder if the Councillor responsible for Badger’s Mount near Farnborough or Batchelor’s Bump near Hastings takes things quite so literally.

Joking aside, both events illustrate how flexible and varied you can be when raising money and that you don’t need to limit yourself purely to readings or spoken word performances when looking for literature related funding. It is with this in mind that we encourage any member of the public to come to us with ideas or even drop an email about anything that you think we should be aware of – particularly if Albert Finney or Tom Courtney are promoting or performing anything in the UK. Please feel free to contact me directly via this website or contact us through the Sillitoe website. Now did I really agree to run that marathon next year? When am I going to find the time to train? New Years Eve Resolution: Three hours sleep a night. Five is an unnecessary indulgence.

The Alan Sillitoe Committee website