I went to see a play in the Abbey Theatre last night. It’s called Youth’s the Season-? by Mary Manning, is set in Dublin, and was first performed in 1931 (that’s what had me booking tickets, I’m interested in deflattening my impression of our country during that era). The play is about well-to-do bored young things trying to figure out their lives. A party is planned. Breakdowns ensue. We have always been modern.
I thought it was great - flies by, good energy, silver jumpsuit during a party scene. Notable performances from David Rawle, Ciara Berkeley, and Jack Meade. You might also like it. Only on for a month. More information and tickets.
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Here’s a short video on the play that the Gate produced a few years ago - loads of spoilers though! While I would like to order a dose of amnesia re the pandemic, arts organisations did play a blinder during it all and left behind a great legacy of educational videos, lectures and interviews. Thank you!
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Anne Helen Petersen shared this Letter of Recommendation from Krista Burton in her newsletter about the Victorian Visit.
What’s a Victorian Visit?
I’m so glad you asked! I made the name up! A Victorian Visit is what I call it when someone comes to stay with you for a really long time. We’re talking weeks, not days. Possibly even months! Everything is on the table when it’s a Victorian Visit!
The name comes from reading a lot of old books. In old books, it’s pretty normal for characters to go to stay with friends for weeks on end. Sometimes for whole seasons; sometimes longer than that. If they were rich, they’d take a servant or two with them. If they weren’t rich, they’d simply go, and be sheltered and fed and included in daily household life for what felt, to my modern eyes, like an impossibly long time. The luxury! Didn’t these people have jobs? Or places they needed to be?
Wouldn’t that be lovely? This should be life: slower, full of company. I wish it for us all.
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Free Palestine.
Keep sharing news stories, keep wearing badges, keep showing up to protests, keep letting those in power who refuse to lift a finger know how you feel, keep calling for the enactment of the Occupied Territories Bill. Support protestors here and abroad.
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In the Tolka journal podcast, author Niamh Campbell discusses an essay she wrote for the publication on her birth experience. Her approach to humour in the writing. She also touches upon being reminded of past work and what you’ve shared in print etc. So many of us have lived this. The recession was a heady time for serving up one’s business. Link to Tolka podcast.
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Last week, paid subscribers got a very short note on AI and authors: “I know a lot of writers – some very successful. Almost all the women ones have murderous thoughts on book marketing. The pressure it puts on the author, how much you have to give of yourself.” Too expensive, can’t read? How human will people have to be to beat the robots?
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The anthology in which my short story The Dimmed Tide appears is available to but in ebook and regular book: Amazon link to anthology. Content warning for the story in the footnotes.1
Opening lines:
Just before the injection pinch which sent me to my first sleep, the company had me sign a form. It would not be liable for x, y, and/or z. There were certain things beyond the company’s control. Such as a tsunami burped from the ocean floor, which no one could outrun. A goodbye-dinosaurs-and-me meteor.
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I was getting panicky about my writing, then remembered I’ve been here before. “…maybe the secret to balance is neglect.”
Child, sibling and spousal bereavement; climate breakdown; sexual content.