Brilliant Sparks in Brighton

No, not me – modesty forbids – anyway, I'm not in that trade * anymore. I'm referring to SPARKS 10.

My VWC pal Jonathan Pinnock and I trekked down to Sussex for this occasional reading and photography event last Tuesday evening.  Of all the days in the year we had to chose one when London Underground was hit by strikes, which made for an interesting and protracted return journey. That small inconvenience, though, was well rewarded.

In a theatrical review I once referred to the New End Theatre, Hampstead, as 'petite'. By that reckoning the theatre – for it is a mini-theatre – above the pub at Thirteen and Ten, Steine Street, Brighton, is positively Lilliputian. The atmosphere though is Brobdingnagian in a friendly, arty and welcoming way. So supportive indeed were the  organiser, the mesmerising Jo Mortimer, and my talented fellow readers that I almost forgot my fear of reading to a paying audience... Almost.

Aided by a little Dutch courage from the bar I made it through the performance without serious upset. People were still talking to me afterward – that must be a positive sign. I even received a generous compliment or three, which, coming from such talents as Vanessa Gebbie, Jac Cattaneo and Naomi Foyle, give me cause to hope I have survived my first hesitant step as a performance writer and reader.

Yes, I'm hooked.  I'd like to read at a SPARKS event again.

 * Strange synergy here: In 'another life' I was an electrician, Vanessa Gebbie is the editor of the excellent Short Circuit, A Guide to the Art of the Short Story, and there I am reading at an event called SPARKS. Spooky.

Pics (atmospheric) courtesy of Jon Pinnock.

Above: Me, hiding nervously behind the mic.

Above: Jon P, towering over it.

Does writing for live reading require special skill?

I think so. And the actual reading requires yet another skill set.

Regrettably, both are skills that I have yet to master. Successful performance writing – and successful performance – are, for me, figments of aspiration not badges of achievement.

Thanks, however, to the advice, critique and fine examples of writer friends from Verulam Writers' Circle – notably Julie Mayhew, Jonathan Pinnock and Dave Weaver, all of whom are successful in the field of prose performance – I am beginning to make a little headway.

Having heard great things about the occasional SPARKS photography and reading events in Brighton, last month I decided it was time to kick myself out of my cosseted literary isolation and do something really scary. So I went out for a walk (have you seen the way they drive in Hertfordshire?). I came back, muddied but unbowed. Then and there – without a moment's hesitation and with no safety net – I edited a story down from 1600 words to fewer than 1000, the SPARKS maximum. After reading it a time or two I hit  the dreaded 'send' key.

Gulp!

Panic set in, and then I thought: No worries, it'll never be accepted. Almost exactly an hour later I received from the organizer, Jo Mortimer, a lovely acceptance. My bluff she had called.

Double gulp!

That's why on 7th September you will find me as the trembling warm-up act on a SPARKS 10 bill of otherwise stellar proportions alongside such luminaries as Vanessa Gebbie (she who edited the excellent Short Circuit - my constant companion and guide through the dark maze that is short fiction), Jonathan  Pinnock (who had a story broadcast on Radio 4 only last week), Tom Vowler (novelist), Naomi Foyle (poet), Paul A Toth (much-published American novelist), Jac Cattaneo and Sam Mead.

Am I shaking in my shoes? You're too darn right I am.

So, wish me luck. Turn the light out when you go, and go particularly easy on the tea and biscuits this time, please. I have to save up for the train fare down to Brighton – a return ticket would be nice.