Malaysia Through the Looking Glass

Sometimes a book comes by that doesn’t just grab you – it embraces you entirely, seizing your senses and emotions, so much so that the moment you finish it, you go back to the beginning and start reading all over again. Sometimes, a book comes by that makes you laugh out aloud at almost every page and yet hurts you and hushes you with its lyrical beauty.

Saras Manickam reviews Preeta Samarasan's Evening is the Whole Day in Starmag today, and also interviews the author.

It's good to hear that Preeta is working on another novel :

... about a cult, commune, call it what you will, in Cameron Highlands. It shares some of the first novel’s preoccupations, and covers some of the same political territory. At this point I don’t see myself ever writing about another country. This is my country; these are the stories I want to tell.

There is a very tasty 25% MPH discount coupon for the novel on this page in the newspaper. Now's the time to get your copy!

Blue Shoes and Silverfish

Saras came by yesterday bearing the gift of a copy of Silverfish New Writing 7, in which her short story Invisible appears. (Some of you will have heard it when she last read at Seksan's.) There are also stories by Wena Poon (in next Saturday's line-up), and Yusof Martin , Robert Raymer, Viren Swami, Peter Brown and others. The collection is this time edited by South-African academic Ashraf Jamal, and Shanti Moorthy (whom I suddenly realised I had met ... she's the daughter of a very dear friend of my husband's. Small world, huh.)

If there's anyone whose story is included would like to read at Seksan's, please let me know, okay?

The cover by those amazing malay boys (Sufian Abas and Ruhayat X) is so nice, especially so as I recognise Saras' house and my friends in the moody sepia photo!

And talking about Sufian Abas, his new book Kasut Biru Rubina (Rubina's Blue Shoes) is now out, and can also be bought from Silverfish. Here's the blurb and it sounds intriguing :

A woman wakes up without her body. A boy tries to endure the pain of being an adult when mini animals start to come out of his anus. What do you do when angels forgot to bring a unicorn for your daughter's birthday? And are all shoes evil or just the blue ones?

Many of the characters in Kasut Biru Rubina want to live ordinary lives. But the unexpected happen. Brief, shocking, and full of lies that can only come from the twisted mind of Nigerian scammers, Sufian Abas' stories are snapshots that illuminate the strange hidden in a world we never want to live in.

Sufian will also be reading at Seksan's this Saturday.

Readings? Piece of Cake!

Couldn't think of a nicer way to spend my birthday (which? well I've given up counting!) than holding October "Readings". Wasn't going to tell anyone either, but when someone brings in the biggest birthday cake in the universe, it kind of blows your secret, dunnit?

Vernon Adrian Emuang (above) was the first reader of the day, and this was his very first time standing up in public reading his own words though as an actor, he's had plenty of experience in reading the words of others. (I've seen Vernon in a couple of plays recently - Pinter's Betrayal and the rehearsed of Ann Lee's Tarap Man in which he was shudderingly creepy!) Vernon has also worked in advertising and produced several independent films: the word which he coined for himself (and which deserves a place in the OED!) is multimediator.

The first piece he read I thought particularly powerful: Wilting Without Grace was written for Tell magazine:

I am wilting. Even though my great-grandparents were born here (all eight should be enough), and probably their parents, too, the mitochondrial legacy within me struggles to acclimatize. Should I wonder why it would take this long? Will my children's children feel as alien? When is the time when my progeny will fully feel at ease, fully integrate and disappear into the kerawang? Until then, do we deserve to be treated like … well, termites?

He also read some poetry including The Flirt (which is one to stick up on your writing desk) and Afterglow. Now you're outed as a writer, Vernon, there's no turning back!

I'm so very happy Preeta Samarasan (above) agreed to take part, and bring along her mum, Saras. Preeta's first novel Evening is the Whole Day is due to be published next May in the US by Houghton Mifflin. The extract from the first chapter has made me impatient to get my hands on a copy. Love the fact that the action in the piece she read took place in Ipoh and Gopeng! (I'm from Perak - sort of.) The writing was beautiful - richly detailed and gently humourous.

With a total of eight books published Lee Su Kim should need no introduction. She's one of those people who can combine an academic interest with the power to write for (and entertain) all of us. Malaysian Flavours which explores the local psyche is one of the must-buy books for anyone wanting to understand the country, and her Manglish: Malaysian English at it's Wackiest, is a glossary of English as it is spoken here.

Su Kim (I have to add that she looked an absolute vision in white!) read from her latest book A Nyonya in Texas, a very funny account of cross cultural encounters based on her experiences in the US while she was doing her PhD. She says that she encountered a lot of ignorance there about what Malaysia is like, and was (honestly) asked that most stupid of questions, "Do Malaysians live in trees?" to which she says she answered "Yes, but now they have escalators to get up there.")

This is Ti Chin Han, winner of the Utusan Group Literary Prize for his novel Trumation Nation, a humourous thriller. It was fun hearing a piece of sci-fi with a very Malaysian setting. Han guestblogged about his experiences of getting published here, and I really wish him all the best with his book.

Nizam Zakaria can now justifiably call himself a novelist (in addition to poet, lyricist, scriptwriter and photographer). His first novel was Susuk, the novelisation of Amir Muhammad's fim (which we are still yet to see!) and his second, now out, is Seri Tertangguh, which he describes, intriguingly, as "Malaysian chick lit". I'm sure his legions of fans will be overjoyed. The extract he read was very much enjoyed and I loved the way he mixed Malay and English, reflecting the way people do speak here. (The kind of "bahasa rojak" that would have cultural commentators at Utusan screaming blue murder, no doubt.)

Bless you, Saras Manickam, for being brave enough and sporting enough to step in at quite literally the eleventh hour when another reader couldn't make it.

Saras read parts of her poignant short story Invisible, told in the voice of an Indonesian maid. The ending packs quite a punch, though I won't say more because I hope you read it for yourselves when Silverfish New Writing 7 comes out.

The story struck a chord with me, because I always wonder about maids ... if they can be happy working in someone else's household overseas and so far from their family. (I was going to wander off into my own stories here ... but maybe another time.)

This is the wonderful birthday cake Chet gave me. It's all my favourite things put together - chocolate cupcakes, gummy bears, the name of my blog ...

... and teensy little bookworms popping their heads out of the turquoise butter-cream. The lady behind this stunning piece of edible biblioart is Chan Hui Min aka Mama Min, who is Patrick Teoh's other half. (Please go check out her blog entry about the cake and look at much nicer photos!)

All the usual thanks. To Sek San for the beautiful space. To those who read. To those who came and supported, because nothing can happen without an audience. To those who helped put the word out. To Shahnim for taking the time and trouble to do the poster. Once again to Chet for the wonderful cake. To me for the wine this time, 'cos La Bodega says it is not longer able to sponsor us. (Bernice and I will try lobbying some wine suppliers - "Readings" without wine is just unthinkable.) To all those who helped set up and clear up, especially the patient Buddhi.

If Sek San will have us back again, our next Readings should be on November 24th.

Silverfish Swarming

One of the beacons of hope Amir Muhammad saw burning for local writing in English in the Kakiseni article I linked to yesterday was Silverfish New Writing. Five years on, the annual anthology is still going strong, and Silverfish New Writing 6 was launched last night at the Impiana Hotel, KL. The event, like the book, was sponsored by HSBC (under its HSBC in the Arts banner). Here are my (blurry as always) photos of the event.

Guest Ioalanda Capodanno with Professor Quayum, co-editor of Silverfish New Writing 3

From left: Datuk Shan (whose stories have appeared in earlier Silverfish collections), New Writing 6 editor Dipika Mukherjee, my buddies and writing running mates Saras Manickam and Soo Choon.

Thaatchaayini Kananatu, who wrote the story In God's Belly signs my book ...

... as does Peter Brown (Dysfunction). (Peter is a singer-songwriter and I've often enjoyed listening to his band Passion.)

A bit blurry, but this captures Raman quite well, doesn't it?

Phek Chin (far right) and Usha (centre) of Silverfish with a friend.

There were speeches from Deputy Chairman and CEO of HSBC Dato' Zarir J Cama, who told us that P.G. Wodehouse had also been a banker with HSBC (bet you didn't know that!), Raman (who quoted the Paul Auster speech about the uselessness of literature and talked about how we all need stories), and then a short word from Dipika Muhkerjee who had flown all the way back from Holland for the event, before the grand unveiling of the book.

The writers and editor up on stage with artist Shahril Nizam Ahmad who designed the cover, next to Raman.

Saras, relishing being a published writer at last, signs copies.

Junaida bte Hassan (A Whistle in the Night) took time off work to travel all the way up from Singapore.

I met many other interesting people and had a very enjoyable evening. I will write more about the book later when I've finished it.

Postscript:

Raman's much nicer photos of the event are here.

The Muse Works in Crowds

Bibi put her finger on it last night in the writing class when she asked why it seems so much effort to write when you're alone, yet when there's a group of you writing together from the same starting point, the words just flow.

I see this happen time and time again, and I love how fresh and surprising the pieces scribbled in just a few minutes in the company of friends invariably are. I used to meet my friends on Friday nights for a beer and scribble session, either in someone's house or a restaurant. (Didn't we get some funny looks!) Some of us were pretty motivated writers flying solo during the week, one or two didn't put pen to paper between meetings. But when we got together, took a random writing prompt (a word from a dictionary, the first line, a picture) and wrote at speed (a whole story in five, ten, twenty minutes!) there was a strange synergy that seemed to attract stories to our notebooks. Saras' short story which appears in the next Silverfish collection got written this way one magical evening at Leah's house. (Leah and I were both very happy with our pieces too!)

And here's something I wrote way back about one of our meet-ups in the early days:

The electricity was off in Soo Choon's house, which gave us a wonderful excuse to sit in the garden and write by the combined light of two torches and a candle. The simplest writing exercises are often the most fun. I'd brought a little pocket dictionary with me and we took it in turns to open it at random and read out the first noun on the page, which was our starting point for writing for three exhilerating minutes. Four people. Four words. Twelve minutes of frantic scribbling. And then we took turns to read out what we'd written. It was amazing how differently everyone had interpreted the words, and what a variety of images leapt from the mind. We were all off in completely different directions, with images and anecdotes and the start of stories that might yet be written. Mercy had chosen to follow one character, a sculptor, through all four of the prompts. "How come I've stared at my notebook all week and not been able to write a thing" said Saras "but the minute we all sit down together my pen can't keep up with my thoughts?"

Judy Reeves in Writing Alone, Writing Together (a book that influenced me a great deal) notes the same phenomena in action:

During writing practice groups, prompts are given and from these few words, stories, poems and essays and scenes from novels get written right then and there. At least first drafts that flare up wild as prairie fires or emerge soft as twilight in September. Seeds are sown, characters appear (and disappear), ideas take root, and notebooks get filled. Something else happens, too. A certain and electric current of connection, not just from one writer to another, but one human to another. ... Some call it the creative force. Magic. I say that the muse likes to work in crowds. Something happens when we write together that - if you trust it and go with it - can take the writing and the writer to unexpected, surprising places of memory and imagination.

You don't need much to make this happen ... a couple of friends, a space, a notebook, and a prompt for a starting point ...

Oh ... and a beer is nice.