One of our longer-standing members, Richard Gillies, bring us the details from our latest meeting in his own inimitable style.
Nethergate Writers Minutes – 14th of November 2019-11-14
Present – David, Craig, Rupert, Ian, Sandra, Susan B, Susan S and Richard
Apologies – Gillian, Abigail, Aileen, David F, Rosie, Sarah, Roddie, Fraser
This week David asked Rupert if he would chair the meeting, which he gladly acceded to. Then it was to Craig who asked if there was any business whilst handing round copies of a book called Blether. The title of the book is self explanatory in that it contains various conversations and blethers, showing the rich and varied voices of Scotland. Craig himself has piece, which read for us at a previous meeting, in the publication aptly named ‘A Guid Blether’ so kudos to him, for it is a no mean feat to get work published. In addition he informed of us about the Scottish Book Trust and its Book Week Scotland, an annual celebration of books and reading, that takes place between the 18th and the 24th of November. There was further talk on the progress of the short story endeavour of Nethergate Writers and then it was time to read out the various pieces that had been emailed.
First to read was Susan Baxter with the start of her Nethergate short story called ‘December at the Theatre Royal’ about two young women in 1960’s Dundee strutting there stuff in an atmospheric depiction of life as it was then. There were a number of observations about characterisation, with details like the rainmate adding verisimilitude to the story. Sue brought details of her own familiarity with her subject matter to bear, mentioning the Theatre Royal history and origins with the circus and added it was a ghost story in the making. They say the past is a foreign country and essentially this is a story about looking back to how things were compared to how things are today leading to a sense of having lost something we didn’t know we had. After further enquiries about how the two protagonists would have spoken, very properly apparently, it was on to the next story.
Next up it was Sandra with her short story called ‘The Tornaveen’ about a young family in which the Jim, the father, wants to buy a hotel, and in fact does, much to his wife’s annoyance. This is a tale about the travails of running a hotel and what you have to do to make it pay. This is also a tale about relationships and how the stresses and strains of everyday life can hang very heavily on the shoulders of those who seek the finer things that life has to offer. The father is ambitious but drinks to excess due to the pressures such ambition brings. The mother wants a quiet life and is fearful of change and expresses her angst very poorly, taking it out not only on her husband but Alice too, her daughter. Alice enjoys the excitement of a hotel’s rich reality and at first sides with her father, but through a growing consciousness and her own developing nature, begins to understand and sympathise with her mother’s pain, if not the manner in which it is expressed.
This story was much appreciated with comments about it being like a memoir and again as with the previous story it is all in the details. It was alluded to, that the story could be expanded with anecdotes about the various guests and what they got up to. It was also expressed that Alice was a character that could be broadened out. To say more might signal a spoiler alert but suffice to say many themes were brought out and there would be much to offer in developing this piece if that was the intent, otherwise it was fairly complete.
A break was suggested and agreed upon at this juncture it being approximately eight o’clock.
But westward look, the land is bright, or not so if David is to be believed. With his piece we have a story about Evie and Ruth and young Paul set on the background of the legacy of the Stonewall Riots in which there were violent demonstrations against the police, who, due to the anti gay legal system which prevailed at that time, were wont to raid gay bars. The Stonewall raid, named after a bar in Greenwich Village was raided overtly for this reason but covertly the police were not getting the kickbacks they expected from the criminal owners of the bar so as to turn a blind eye, and the heavy-handedness of what ensued caused days of rioting. The rest is history and David tells it with gusto with Ruth taking part in a Gay Pride march in Los Angeles and being witness to the forces of reaction trying to the disrupt the event. This story is a piece about intolerance and the struggle for equality in a world that is slow to change and the first person to comment said how moving it was. David had reviewed previous feedback and had made changes to his previous version, removing certain extraneous words and tautologies. There then followed a discussion about use of the vernacular and how it connects you to place.
To segue from that to Rupert, our chairman for the day, who reads out his piece which is a prologue of a much larger work, a crime novel, told in the first person by an unreliable narrator. An intriguing tale begins, with hisses, murmurs, a phone receiver’s soft click: all very low key showing the protagonist’s senses on high alert should anything untoward ensue. Soft carpets and hard surfaces: a dichotomy of materials, evoking soft landings or hard knocks depending on how things pan out. The narrative whets the reader’s appetite by relating a tale in which nothing is as it appears with the interrogator, suggests Andrew as his moniker, though other names are available, debriefing an as yet unidentified character who begins to unfold his testimony about finding someone on the floor: and he wasn’t admiring the carpet’s multi-level loop. Rupert has set the stage of what appears to be a gripping read. Sinister, being drawn in, getting hooked; all terms that would probably be de rigueur for a crime novel are relayed by those present. One mentions a sense of confusion but it was posited that smoke and mirrors were par for any course so as not to spoil the ending. With the history of fictional seats of learning and there use thereof, an example cited being Colin Dexter and his Inspector Morse novels rounded off this discussion.
Finally it was Susan Storrier and her pieces which were read out in round robin fashion by those present.
The first story was a short piece read out by Craig in a classic western drawl. This story evokes the old west with saloon bars, dusty chaps and sub-par social skills. Basically there’s history here between the protagonist Ron Lightfoot and his adversarial foil Josh Windford. There is no love lost between these two characters and the upshot is Josh is going home untarnished by the demon drink, which is probably just as well for it can be imagined that the quality of beverages sold in late nineteenth mid-west taverns was not of the best. As an evocation of that genre Susan has written, in the parlance of that time and place, a fine and dandy piece complete with sound effects that add an extra dimension to give it a cinematic air.
The next story, read out by Rupert, is about what Susan calls, to paraphrase, an anthropomorphism of festive-grade inversion, an odd character that you could set your clocks to called Simon Arnold and who is probably no stranger to, shopping trolleys, binder twine and a well appointed bridge arch. But he’s the type of shopper that charities cry out for in that he buys, well if he had any money, those things that others would much rather not and clears their unreadable book back-catalogues whose questionable origin makes them hard to sell. This is a well written piece whose effects are so suggestive such that you might rather turn the page with a set of fire-tongs lest the seepage is made manifest simply by examination.
A Highland tale, narrated by David, follows with Gaelic much in evidence. This must be set in a time period after the Battle of Culloden with the victorious Duke of Cumberland seeking out fleeing Jacobites with a Redcoat who seems to have lost his way and found himself in unfriendly territory. Redcoats indeed were not best suited to fitting into this highland landscape and not best placed carrying out guerrilla warfare and so, as in this historical piece, the hunter becomes the hunted. This is another well written narrative that pulls you along in their pursuit. In addition, I am beginning to get a little hungry with the descriptions of barley bread, quartered farls and orbs of white cheese. The contrast between them ruminating over the redcoat’s fate against the more mundane prospect of what their dairymaid Beathag had prepared for them makes for an interesting counterpoint to the story with the prospect of a soldier’s life given equal weight with a smoked trout.
And we are back with Simon Arnold, read out by Ian, in this short piece and indeed I may have been a little dismissive earlier of his prospects because he indeed lives in a flat so it seems, though he is a bit of a hoarder. This is again a well executed telling of how the publications collected by Simon though great in number are still well catalogued with controversially Richard Dawkins set against a well known religious text. If thoughts were deeds but this is more about someone who likes things his way and the smaller your world the more control you have over it.
Sandra is next to read a veterinary story and perhaps romance amongst the endoscopes and surgical swabs. What with errant bearded dragons and food grade crickets jammed in smoke alarm vents, the sense of somewhat chaotic practise, which is probably not such stretch from what really happens given the unpredictable nature of animals in general. A keenly observed piece again from Susan where a pet owner engages Jilly, a veterinarian who indulges this Joe character who is concerned, perhaps overly so, with his pug dog’s health. Jilly has, so it seems, an unrequited regard for Joe and does harbour a schadenfreudian delight at Joe’s relational travails and constantly has to restrain herself by attending the dog when her thoughts are otherwise engaged. He does seem a little odd but that is the way of things in matters of the heart and probably obligatory to carry the story forward.
Sue read this piece I suspect and Simon Arnold is back with social services on his tail with his circumstances being somewhat of a worry. No doubt a good clear out and a dehumidifier might sort this out but you can’t change people as easily as that I fear. Again a good descriptive account full of details and insightful observations about how people can’t leave well alone.
Finally a piece read by yours truly, Richard, and, oh dear, poor old Simon Arnold and am I sensing all these disparate writings have a connective tissue yet to be unveiled. Perhaps something metafictional this way comes. The action takes place at a crime scene where DS Elaine Forte and her male colleague are doing some detective work examining the wood chip and dado rails for evidence. All well crafted descriptive text with a lot of literary texture laying out a crime scene whose condition is somewhat squalid in nature and where the seepage word begins to clarify, if not literally at least metaphorically, its meaning.
Those present at this meeting of the Nethergate Writers were not able to discuss Susan’s pieces to any great extent due to being reminded by a member of the building’s staff that indeed it was nine o’clock and could we wrap things up so perhaps next time there could be a discussion, though a general appreciation was expressed that work was enjoyed by all those present.
The next meeting will be Wednesday the 27th of November 2019.