Twitter Fiction Festival - yay or nay?

Later on today sees the launch of a new 'Twitter Fiction Festival', as announced on the official Twitter Blog from the 18th October. The microblogging giant has been recruiting both professional and amateur writers to collaborate on a number of projects taking place today. For the curious, they've set up a dedicated page: https://twitter.com/hashtag/twitterfiction - so log on and have a look!
Among these online events are TwitMashes hosted by South African writer Lauren Beaukes, and author Jennifer Wilson is inviting followers to help her generate stories from a series of photographs of graves.

Twitter seems to be gaining in popularity with writers; frequent literary tweeters include Ben Okri, Margaret Atwood and Neil Gaiman (all worth a follow!) There's no denying that it's a great platform for writers: any promotional work for an audience of millions is a positive thing at a time when the financial climate is as tough as it it. But aside from promotion and contact with readers, is Twitter an appropriate medium for literature itself?

In the early 90s and turn of the millenium, the possibilities for harnessing the power of the internet for writing seemed endless. Hypertext author Shelley Jackson notablly spawned many of her projects via her website, integrating writing with visuals and hyperlink - her most famous work 'Patchwork Girl' is a great example of this hybrid form, and well worth a read.

My own problem with Twitter is that although it's great for collaboration and immediacy, it's also hugely limiting. From my own point of view, I feel that literature needs space for possibility; although I can appreciate that it also forces the kind of constraints that can make great literature. After all, some of the greatest short stories ever written are under two pages long; and of course the Haiku form is one of the most culturally pervasive of all poetical forms.

What is your take on this Twitter festival? Is it possible to create something great in 150 characters? For now, I'll reserve judgement. Tweet tweet.

(You can follow me on Twitter @JessicaEOliver. I promise not to tweet any bad poetry.)

Review: 'Housekeeping' by Marilynne Robinson

I can't believe it's late November already...I'm living in a very cold and blustery Oxford with some very chapped lips and hands! At this time every year, in the seasonal slump where the golden autumn comes to an end for a starker chill, I like to find a book to match this transitional mood. My mum came up trumps with this recommendation: Marilynne Robinson's debut novel Housekeeping, much lauded on its publication in 1980.

Set in a fictional Northwest town in the mountain called Fingerbone, the novel tells the tale of two lonely sisters, passed from generation to generation of their female relatives following their mother's suicide. It's a novel that is crystalline in it's beauty of language: every sentence runs as deep as the lake that forms the centre of the sister's physical and emotional landscape. Friends are few and far between; it's a lonely world. The title mirrors the falsities and pretences of each domestic setup: whether it's their frail grandma or their fragilely-minded aunt Sylvie, the girls cannot overcome the deep sense of transience and loneliness.

If this sounds negative, it's not meant to be: this is a beautiful and resonant book, that treats life and human relationships with a sacred seriousness. It's quite astonishing - you get such a whole and sustained vision of Ruth and Lucille's narrow, bleak yet compelling world. 
This book reminds me a great deal of Margaret Atwood's novella 'Surfacing', with its aqueous prose and probings into female power and relationships. I'm quite sure that the makers of the film Winter's Bone have read and loved this novel - it shares a rural toughness, and a reliance on strong female presence with the film that make both works astonishing. 

If you haven't read this, I would highly recommend it. I'm going on a hunt for some more Marilynne Robinson. I think I may have found my new favourite author that everyone has been one step ahead about. Cheers Mum.  

Blogs to follow!

Thought I'd share a little blog love with you all....

Soapbox Press: http://soapboxpress.wordpress.com/

Started by students at Winchester School of Art, this features book reviews, interview and lovely things about the art and fashion worlds. It's beautifully laid out (as you'd expect!), and currently seeking submissions. I predict a big following!

Life in Publishing :http://lifeinpublishing.tumblr.com/

For anyone in publishing or looking to get in, this is essentially a summary of daily life in the industry in meme form. Sent to me by a colleague, it's made me chuckle at my desk a lot.

Little Words: http://littlewordsreview.wordpress.com/

I love browsing this blog - she's a fellow books blogger, and she's recently posted some great theatre reviews with lots of pictures.

The Flaneur - http://flaneur.me.uk/

I write for this blog myself - check the link in the left-hand pane. It's a really fascinating melting pot of free-for-all writing with pretty much everything your heart could desire from independent arts writing. There are many posts a day, and you're sure to find something great: from film reviews to artists interviewing themselves.

Happy reading!

x

How do you cope with a really disappointing book?

When I picked up The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov, I was sure I was on to a winner. Russian novelist? Brilliant. Magic Realism? Check my bookshelf – it’s stuffed with it. The devil appearing as an undercover character? Love it. Talking cat – don’t even need to say it. So on opening my battered copy, I was excited. 

A hundred pages in – I couldn’t care less. So I stopped reading it. I can’t explain to you why – maybe the cultural nuances failed to translate for me, maybe there were too many subversive Russian male poets called Nikolayevich – but I couldn’t summon any enthusiasm for it.

Actually coming to a point of not wanting to finish a book has happened to me many, many times before – I do have an English degree after all, and my lecturers seemed to have a particular enthusiasm for Joseph Conrad – but abandoning a book that seemed like it would be amazing is a terrible feeling. I’ve found myself in a grip of self-doubt: what if it’s me, not the book? Is it my own ignorance and philistine brain that’s holding me back from loving this book? THERE’S A CAT WHO POURS HIMSELF VODKA - there is literally nothing on this earth that makes me more excited than that prospect.

This doesn’t often happen with me. When I think I’m going to like a book, having a rough idea of what it’s all about, I usually do. Things I think I’ll hate, I usually do – case in point, Charles Bukowski’s Ham on Rye – if you’re an angry young man who likes smacking people around and don’t much like women, knock yourself out. I entered into Bukowski's grimy world fully aware that it would not agree with me. But this? Awful.

So I’m feeling bruised and sore. It feels like being rejected by a boy at a school disco. Damn you Mikhail!

Have you experienced this? Am I blowing this out of proportion, or do you feel bad when you give up on a book that promised so much, and failed to deliver for you? 

Congratulations Hilary Mantel!

This week, Hilary won the Booker Prize for the second instalment in her Tudor trilogy Bring Up the Bodies, a mere 3 years after winning for Wolf Hall.  She joins the novelists Peter Carey, and one of my scared-cow favourite writers, J.M. Coetzee as the only three writers to win the Booker twice; and if you really love to fact-crunch, she's the first female novelist to do so, and the first writer to win for a sequel. What an amazing achievement - many congratulations to her.

Are you pleased to see Bring Up the Bodies lauded? Are you disappointed that your favourite novel missed out? Are you as relieved as I am that you are not her, and you don't face the gargantuan task of writing the third in the trilogy? It's like being born into a family of a Nobel prize winners.

Zadie Smith's NW: Classic Modernism for the 21st Century

Almost 90 years ago, T.S. Eliot reviewed James Joyce's newest novel Ulysses with a huge amount of praise for its experimental style, noting that it's challenging structure acted as “a way of controlling, of ordering, of giving a shape and a significance to the immense panorama of futility and anarchy which is contemporary history.” For those of you unsure of the exact impetus of the movement that came to be known as Modernism (which is all of us - even, I suspect, people who hold Phd's on the subject, as it is so determinedly slippery and elusive), a rough approximation is that its practitioners wrote as a backlash to what came before: challenging representation at a time, following the First World War, that the world was reeling from a global conflict so totally devastating and insidious, that all felt that the world had fundamentally changed for the worse. A classic, and to my mind insurmountable piece of work reflecting this was Eliot's own poem 'The Wasteland': possibly the bleakest piece of poetry engaging with the state of the world ever written. 

Another face of Modernism, which I feel Zadie Smith allies herself more closely to in NW came in the form of writers such as Virginia Woolf, Katherine Mansfield and E.M. Forster, whose main projects focused on the representation of the psyche; more self-aware and seemingly fragmented than before. In NW, she probes the psyches of interconnected NW residents, exploring the transition from adolescence to terrifying adult life with its pressures and complexity. What I really liked about NW, as in Zadie's previous novels, were the pithy aphorisms about life lived in the 21st century. Where it's different to her previous works is the determined change of register between narratives: for philosophy graduate Leah, the narrative is meandering, ponderous, measured: for sharp yet confused lawyer turned urbane yummy-mummy Natalie, her observations are organised into note-form - titled and brief, to help compile the case later. The allusions may be to our everyday; the slightly stereotypical characters drawn from cultural currency, but the form and the spirit is purely, classically Modernist. She's observing the world through the same prism as the Bloomsbury set; which could be an unbearable and alienating exercise, but, come on, it's Zadie. It's good. And a lot more fun that Mrs Dalloway. 

Exhibition Review: Shakespeare - Staging the World at the British Museum

Last weekend I went to the Staging the World Exhibition at the British Museum, which is running until the 25th November. It may be sacrilege to say it, but for me, the Bard is a little hit and miss. I love his sparky comedies like Much Ado, Twelfth Night, his synthesis of the supernatural in Macbeth and A Midsummer Night's Dream, his measurements of what it is to be human in King Lear and Othello. I bloody loathe Romeo and Juliet. I can't get behind the frankly boring History plays.

As such, I expected to emerge from this exhibition with mixed feelings because of the subject, and I did: and additionally I found the exhibition a bit of a mess. The exhibition incorporated two elements to its experience. Firstly, there were relics which were tenuously related to Shakespeare, and Elizabethan and Jacobean society; and their links to the wider world. Secondly, the stronger element in my mind, an interactive counterpart provided by the RSC: projections and recordings of actors performing snippets of 'relevant' soliloquies, speeches and dialogue. A memorable example for me was the brilliant opening scene of Macbeth performed by the witches providing an aural background to a room exploring King James' crusade against witchcraft in Britain.

The overall idea of the exhibition was to explore how Shakespeare gave voice to the increasingly globalised society of the turn of the 1600's. I didn't particularly care for it: it gave me very little sense of his writing, and didn't particularly provide me with new insights into that time.

If you're interested in coins, by all means, throw yourself into this exhibition with enthusiasm. If you're a rapid Shakespeare fan, likewise. For anyone unsure like me, or with any interest in insightful historical documentation, avoid. I'd love to have been in the room when the poor curators were briefed on this. 'Do we have to?' 'I feel like this has been done.' 'Oh well. Let's scour some UK museums for some Jacobean coins.' 'Errrrggghhh. Ok.'

Sick Day Reads.

For the past week, I've been feeling fairly awful with the cold that seems to have swept everyone. After the stress of a dissertation hand-in, and then the further stress of getting a new job involving a big move, my immune system flipped me off and said, 'no more lady.' So I've been spending my days in bed with books (at the moment, Zadie Smith's NW which I've unleashed as a big treat to myself.)

Some books have the same effect as a big dose of Beecham's: clearing your head, giving you a little relief for a while. For me, its Dodie Smith's I Capture the Castle, which I first read at fourteen, and have read more times than I can count since. It's a great read in particular for teenage girls: I've tried to convince my sister to read it - the most frustrating endeavour of my life. The story is narrated by Cassandra Mortmain, seventeen at the start, who lives with her eccentric artisan family in a crumbling castle in Suffolk.

There's something so comforting about it: there's rain, there's numbing cold, there's a lot of sipping tea and snuggling into layers upon layers of clothes. Most of the novel is perpetual winter.  Eventually, towards the novel's conclusion, the cold melts away to spring. It's not quite wish fulfillment; its outlook is far too damp and bleak. But it's a beautiful snapshot of uncomfortable, chilly Britain, that perversely makes me feel better. Does that make sense?

In fact, I'm going to dig it out now. And if you're unlucky like me in suffering, snuggle down to your I Capture the Castle. I'd also suggest Scandinavian crime fiction, Snow Falling on Cedars by David Guterson and Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami. 

What are your ill books?

'Sea of Ink' - Review

An independent London-based publisher specialising in beautifully crafted translation novellas, Peirene Press's tagline reads 'Truly big stories in small packages.' Their newest offering, Sea of Ink by Swiss writer Richard Weihe more than delivers on this promise.

Detailing the artistic life of the celebrated Chinese painter and calligropher Bada Shanren in 106 pages and 10 of his most beautiful works, the novella opens with the political turmoil that accompanied the fall of the Ming Dynasty in the 17th century. The artist was born Zhu Da, Prince of the central-eastern city Yiyang. Following the invasion of rebel forces, he chose to seek the safety of life as a Taoist monk. During his time in the monastery, he honed his skill with ink and brush: and although he left that life behind, he remained rigorously devoted to the craft.

This story of royalty turned wandering artist is compelling in itself, but what makes this work so special and so lingering past the moment when you close it, is the way in which Weihe used his words to reflect Shanren's works. Both share qualities of ostensible simplicity; the starkness and conciseness of Weihe's prose cuts through the page like Shanren's strokes of ink: and yet similarly, the words like the paintings resonate with a wisdom and understanding of beauty that is utterly mesmeric. Shanren's work invites the viewer to 'colour' the images in its absence; much of the artist's power is in his ability to evoke what is visibly missing, and this novella is the perfect companion to its aesthetic. Unsurprisingly Weihe has a background in philosophy.

Bada Shanren, 'Catfish'

What struck me most about the novella, although it is a novel about art, is it equally a study of identity. Bada Shanren appears to shift and metamorphosize through every chapter, and not only in the various aliases he develops for himself. He is a consummate artist at core, but his other layers are complex and conflicting: a master of inner peace, an aesthete, a widower, a man who abandons his wife, a celebrity, a recluse.

I can't recommend this stunningly presented book enough. I read it in a very swift sitting, but got more pleasure and food for thought out of it than from many books four times its length.
Peirene approaches their literary findings as a curator of a gallery or museum exhibition, by publishing books in series according to specific themes. I'll be sure to pick up the related titles of the 'Small Epic: Unravelling Secrets' series to which Sea of Ink belongs.

If you'd like to know more about Peirene press, visit their website. They do a year's subscription offer which entitles you to three handpicked titles from their back catalogue. Guess where I'm doing my xmas gift shopping...

Small update: find out what's next to be published by Peirene here. 

The Booker Shortlist 2012

In case you haven't heard, the Booker Shortlist 2012 has been announced today, and looks like this:

• Tan Twan Eng - The Garden Of Evening Mists (Myrmidon Books)
• Deborah Levy - Swimming Home (And Other Stories/Faber & Faber)
• Hilary Mantel - Bring Up The Bodies (Fourth Estate)
• Alison Moore - The Lighthouse (Salt)
• Will Self - Umbrella (Bloomsbury)
• Jeet Thayil - Narcopolis (Faber & Faber

It must be an exciting day for Hilary Mantel, who is a favourite to take the prize, which will make her the first Brit to win twice - an amazing achievement considering her last win for Wolf Hall is still so fresh in people's minds.Thayil and Moore are both nominated for their fiction debuts, which gives weight to the judges claim that this year is all about the novel rather the novelists: it really seems that they're concentrating on delivering a result that prioritises the work above reputation. I'll admit I haven't got around to really any of the novels either long or shortlisted; but I'm really keen to read Narcopolis and The Garden of Evening Mists.

Any thoughts? Has anyone read any of the titles? Are they worthy candidates for Book of the Year?

Links of the Week

Worth reading online this week: 

• Zadie Smith talks in-depth about her new novel NW, why her female characters are the guardians of time, and how Willesdon figures in her writing.

• Covering the front page of the Guardian's Review section: an overview of Naomi Wolf's new book Vagina: A New Biography, which, not surprisingly, has attracted some mixed reviews.

• Oracle to teenage girls around the globe (including me), YA fiction maestro Judy Blume has been diagnosed with breast cancer, and wrote on her blog about it with dignity, grace, and good humour.

• The very brave Emma from book blog 'A World of Randomness' is undertaking the unenviable task of writing about 26 books by 26 authors in 26 days in her Alphabet Author challenge throughout September.

• Amazon has announced the imminent release of it's new cash cow e-reader, the Kindle Fire HD, on 25th October, and a fifth generation Kindle, the Paperwhite, to be released after.

Happy reading! 

Norwich: Book City

I promise this post wasn't sponsored by the Norwich Tourist board or whatever. I spent 3 good years living and studying in Norwich, most famous for Colman's mustard, Alan Partridge and being 'A FINE CITY' (Stephen Fy). For those unfamiliar with the city, it's well worth a day or weekend trip: it has really great food and bars (but fairly horrible clubs), excellent live music, and is brilliant for Vintage - there's a really good trail of shops running from the city centre to Magdelen Street...

Off piste! Sorry. It's really great for books. 

The Book Hive on London St

As well as being the stomping ground of great writers, it's amazing for buying books. My favourite bookshop in the world (apart from Barter Books in Alnick, Northumberland, which deserves and may get its own post) is the Book Hive on London St. It's an amazing space, where you can just tell that each book is lovingly placed and ordered and spotlighted for very good reasons. 

When I lived there I spent ages looking at the displays and finding books that the staff had obviously read and loved and wanted to share. They have a fantastic array of art books, and a GREAT upstairs for proper fiction that makes you feel clever. They often have readings and events on from one of the numerous Norfolk-based creatives. (And it's parallel to my favourite bar in the city, Frank's Bar, which does a Shakshuka I still dream about...) You'll definitely find something brilliant to take home by a homegrown talent. The staff are the business too, and clearly love to read, so ask for their recommendations or what they've been reading lately. 

Well worth your time as a book lover in Norwich is trawling through the innumerable charity shops. The indisputable King is Oxfam Books on Bedford St, (Oh! Coincidently on the same street as Frank's!) which boasts a big fiction section, loads of sheet music and a good range of retro comics. The staff are (usually) friendly and helpful, and if you sweet talk them will go a-hunting through the sacred upstairs to find more obscure texts if you like. Another good bet is the Oxfam on Magdalen St, which has furniture, so if you fancy a big creaky reading chair to sip whisky and read Proust on, you're sorted. It's a favourite location for students to do their end of year book drop, so expect lit criticism, philosophy tomes and history books pencilled with notes of desperation and despair. Just how I like my secondhand books. 

So if you like books, go to Norwich. It's a couple of hours from London, less from Nottingham and Liverpool, and is really lovely. You might end up buying my old copy of Old Goriot. 

In praise of doorstop novels.

I'm feeling that my world is being slowly condensed to quick 150 word bursts of information. Twitter, Facebook, texts, quick glances at the news and my out of control magazine habit has fed my summer reading. I've also been working on 'the pig' - my 15,000 word MA dissertation which has seen me flicker between quotes and snatches of ideas, and thumbing pages for a quick fix to make some obscure point.

I haven't had the time to do my usual summer thing of being greedy with novels: gathering my wordy treasures and sitting around them covetously like Smoug on a pile of gold. Its been a sad summer; I've only managed Jonathan Franzen's Freedom (brilliant, throughly recommended etc. etc.) which is, getting back to my point, a doorstop novel at 597 pages.

Last week, the Penguin blog suggested to us all to 'Take the Anna Karenina Challenge': at 829 pages its the K2 of novels. I'm ashamed to say I haven't read it, but its in my BIG BOOK LINE-UP, along with A Place of Greater Safety by Hilary Mantel (872), and David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest - an ungodly 1088 pages long. I can't bloody wait.

Taking on a doorstop novel is a terrifying thing: and it's horrendous to be seen reading one when you're on page 20. You just know that people around you are thinking, 'it's never going to end. S/he'll never finish that.' But around page 400, you are the balls. You are on a home-stretch that will end with a feeling of accomplishment and unbearable smugness that will override any qualms you may have over the novel's quality, or if it's to your taste. Finishing a doorstop novel is worth the sweat and blood, and produces a euphoria that could never be replicated by wading through thousands of statuses and blog posts. Even mine. (Kidding.)

As always, tell me what you're reading! Make me jealous with your reading endeavours and tales of the shoulder ache borne from lugging Finnegan's Wake around. Or join me in misery at your lack of time to read a BIG BOOK.

Showing off my Social Networking Skills.

If you like my writing, you can give me a self-esteem boost by liking my Facebook Page, and join my mother and my long-suffering friends, or if you hate it, you can like it for ironic effect and troll the page.

If you don't, I set my gorgon on you.

Are writers worse off if they have an English degree?

I've really been enjoying the press coverage of the Edinburgh Book Festival, and it sounds as if there's some really interesting stuff going on, with a great line-up. Among the authors speaking at the event was The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time writer Mark Haddon, who apparently had this to say last week:

After a quick google search, I found out that Mr Haddon was speaking from experience: he graduated from Merton College, Oxford in.... English Literature. Perhaps if anyone went to see him speak, or have more insight into the context in which he was speaking, let me know. But I was... mystified. After all, I'd say about 90% of kids sat in Literature seminars have or have had writing aspirations. I went to the University of East Anglia, whose alumni include Ian McEwan, Kazuo Ishiguro and Anne Enright, and is stuffed to the concrete ceilings with novelistic and poetical talent; so it's possible I'm a little biast.
But it did lead me to contemplate what Haddon meant. And I came up with my own shoddy list of why an English degree could hinder writers (whether or not I believe it is a different matter.)

Your own work will never be good enough.

I can't even read a passage of Nabokov without feeling that sharp, sweaty pang of intense envy that the man can write better in his second language that I could ever dream up in my first. I can't imagine how it would feel to someone who must sit down at a desk, searching for words with every writer they've ever admired breathing down their necks.

You are hyper-aware of your reader.

A writer sitting down at their desk will more often than not have their reader's expectations weighing heavily on them. Every passage will be poured over and reworked for maximum impact (unless you're Jack Keruoac. No-one wants that.) And if you have an English degree, you'll read for meaning and possibility; you'll wonder, how will someone receive this? Will they get this reference? Oh god, what if it comes off as pretentious? What if someone will a poor grasp of irony gets hold of this.....THESE ARE ALL WASTED WORDS. Score through, start again, another cup of coffee. PANIC.

You've spent an ungodly amount of time reading THEORY

If you've done any Humanities based subject, just reading that line will provoke nausea. 'Theory', like perms, power shoulders and Bananarama had its hey-day in the eighties: and although its arguably done a lot more for the world than the aforementioned things, it's also generated some very bad things. 

For example, I once sat in a Medieval Writing seminar. We were all sat around, giving our reasons for taking the module. (Mine was, they made me do it, and I sulked all term.) One particular pain in the arse piped up, rolling-papers and tobacco in hand, with a smug expression: 'I want to explore the effects of post-structuralism on Geoffrey Chaucer.' Yes, some very bad things have come of theory. And Mr/Ms Writer BA(Hons) English Literature will be very aware of it, and of people like Monsieur Poststructuralist, who'll be smoking roll-ups, trying to impress girls with your novel in hand. 

I'd love to round up some of my fellow English graduates, and not-fellow successful writers like Zadie Smith, Philip Pullman and Martin Amis to get their take. And then, I'd hand over to Carol Anne Duffy (Philosophy), J.K. Rowling (French and Classics), and, if I could resurrect him, John Keats (Medicine), and get their take on it. 

What do you think? Are you a writer with a Maths degree? Are you an English Grad who thinks that Mark Haddon's talking rubbish?

(I think he is. I struggled with this article.) 

Autumn / Winter trend inspiration from Novels

Sashaying down the runway, onto the pages of Vogue and into your local Topshop, the flapper trend is shimmying its way into the trend sphere again, and it's all thanks to the lovely Carey Mulligan, who is playing Daisy Buchanan in Baz Lurhman's The Great Gatsby, which I believe is coming out at Christmas. 

She looks great in the trailer, and in my mind is a great choice to play one of the most fashionable ladies in literature. The buzz around the Flapper trend, and a chapter of my dissertation I'm currently writing about clothes as a way of representing some pretty abstract thinking, got me to wondering: which characters deserves a trend of their own? I would mention Lolita, but I really don't want to go down the Katy Perry path. Who does. 

Morvern Callar, Morvern Caller by Alan Warner

To get Movern's look, you will need an array of skimpy clothes from the nineties, that will take you from your dead end supermarket job on the west coast of Scotland, to the bars in the Costa del Sol. They'll need to withstand quite a bit: the dismemberment and burial of your ex-boyfriend, drug-induced raving, and meetings with literary agents. Must include a walkman with eclectic mix-tapes. Accessorise with minimal talking, and dubious ethical reasoning.  

Henry Winter, The Secret History by Donna Tartt

I would describe this look as.... blackmail-able. Look expensive and wear some fabulous glasses. But the most important element of this look is the blue sheen of the skin that can only be achieved by being a linguistic genius, and pouring over the minutiae of Ancient Greek grammatical nuances in a Liberal Arts collage library. Also, the shadow of guilt written across your features. An elitest trend, sure. Maybe Daphne Guinness should give it a go. 

The Lady of the House of Love, The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter

Every few months, the Gothic trend comes a-stalking, turning us all into vamps. I suggest we take it that step further. To really get deep into this trend, you'll need to look both child-like and utterly world wearied. This is best achieved by wearing a mouldering wedding dress, carrying flithy tarot cards, and batting your huge eyes at virginal young men on bicycles. Feasting on small mammals for the dedicated (and sick) only.

Maurice Bendrix, The End of the Affair by Graham Greene

I feel like Blitz fashion will make a big splash in the upcoming months. Channel this look with ease with a jaunty trenchcoat. Simple! But what really nails this is an expression that just screams "I hate you more than I hate God." Make this look pop by sneaking into churches, taking on multiple identities to throw off people who care about you, and chain smoking. 

Bertha Mason, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

This look is a Creole-heritage juxtaposed with some nineteenth century hysteria imagery thrown in to lend it some nonchalance. If I had to sum it up in a phrase...I'd call it 'Madwoman in the Attic'. Just stay away from open flames. 

So let's give the street style photographers something to really get excited about this season! Personally, this season I'm going for a Where the Wild Things Are vibe in my jammies. No copies. 

*Or you could ignore this ridiculous article and just go for the Flapper trend. It's pretty. 

Have you ever taken sartorial inspiration from a book?

Carey as Daisy in The Great Gatsby

On Zadie Smith

Over the weekend, The Guardian's Review (Saturday 18th August) section featured an extract from Zadie Smith's new novel NW. If you missed it in print, the extract is on their website, so go and have a read if, like me, you're a Zadie fan. I won't spoil it too much, but it definitely whet my appetite for its release (next Monday 27th. Get your pre-orders in!) She's also appearing at the Edinburgh Book Festival on the 25th, for any of you who are lucky enough to be going. I have a sad face on because I can't. 

The buzz around NW is reminding me to have a reread of the novel that started my big girl crush on Zadie as a teenager. I found White Teeth in a used book shop, read it, read it again, and told everyone I wanted to be the next Zadie Smith. A fair few years, a horrifyingly embarrassing Cambridge interview and absolutely no creative writing done at university, and I've realised it won't happen. But I still love her, and still owe a lot to her.  

I could go on about her inclusion on many universities reading lists, the critical attention lavished on her work, the tags generated to describe her work (Hyperealism, for those interested), and the impact her style has had on contemporary writing. Gush gush gush. But what strikes me most about her is how funny she is. It remains a mystery to me how she writes so convincingly about people: how much her creations have made me ache and crease with laughter. 

When she emerged with White Teeth, still fresh and flawed and wonderful, she made being a bookish young woman sexy and cool. She gave me hope as a gawky, extremely unpopular teenager, ignored by boys and cool girls that I had something great to offer - a brain stuffed with books, the powers of observation where my voice failed, and a loaded pen. I even read The Autograph Man with enthusiasm. (Still worth a read.) She stuffed E.M. Forster, Virginia Woolf and Vladimir Nabokov into throughly modern narratives. She pointed me in directions I never thought to follow. She was, and remains, a guiding voice for me. I'll never churn out an On Beauty, but I reckon I could take Zadie on in a read-off (and lose graciously but with pride). I'll let her off for inking a book deal at nineteen. Ridiculous. 

The ZADIE SMITH READER

White Teeth

I don't really need to mention that she wrote this at Cambridge during her BA, do I? No. Because it makes us all feel bad.

The Autograph Man

I'll defend this. It's still better than some author's best work. Quirky tale about an awkward man trying to pin down an elusive and reclusive old movie star. 

On Beauty

Based on Forster's Howard's End, this is a campus novel not written by David Lodge, or Philip Roth, and it's brilliant. Dense and juicy. 

Changing My Mind: Occasional Essays

I love her piece on writer Zora Neale Hurston, and her musings on Katherine Hepburn, which made me rush out and watch The Philadelphia Story and Bringing Up Baby. Good call Z.S. 

Do you agree or disagree with me about my longterm girl/literary crush? Are you excited about NW?

Young Publishers Tips.

Like many Literature grads who don't really want to let go, I'm trying to get into publishing. I know many people in the same boat, doing the rounds of internships and applications, and I feel their pain. It's truly frustrating trying to break into the business you love when it's so competitive (especially, unfortunately, for Arts graduates). After years upon years of picking up on tidbits, I thought I'd share some hopefully useful tips for anyone in my situation. Please do get in touch if there's anything you'd add, or even feel free to tell me I'm an idiot and going about it in entirely the wrong way.

• Join Society of Young Publishers.

Joining up to the SYP does mean paying £30 if you're not a student, and £24 if you are, but it really is worth it. Being a member gives you access to a pretty niche jobs page, advertising Editorial, Production, Digital and Sales jobs, as well as work experience placements. It also has a calendar of events and meet-ups designed to help people looking into the industry, or just starting out. 

• Frequently browse The Bookseller either online or in print.

The Bookseller is the publishing bible: it details sales trends, job shake-ups and new appointments, and LUCKY FOR US has a massive section of jobs. I can't emphasise enough what a massive help it is: just browsing for half an hour in preparation for an interview will give you a huge boost. For anyone on work experience, ask someone in your department to point you towards their copy - most companies stock pile them, so if you're twiddling your thumbs after making everyone a morning coffee, have a read.

• Follow companies on LinkedIn or Twitter.

A fairly obvious one, but companies often sneak in a tweet or a link to job opportunities. Take note of people they retweet too - don't be afraid to get in touch with someone in a position you aspire to be in; whether that's the Head of PR at a fiction publishers, or a features editor at a magazine. Here's a small shortlist of companies (all fiction/ non-fiction publishing, I'm afraid, as I'm biast) well worth following:

Harper Collins UK

Transworld Books

Random House Group

Quercus Books

Peirene Press

Sceptre Books

Faber Books

Vintage Books

Virago Press

Penguin

Publishing Talk

• Milk your University Resources like an exhausted heifer.

If you're still at university, go to the careers office. Publishing is a big industry, so without a doubt they'll have lots of resources to offer, including copies of The Writer and Artists Yearbook. They'll also have information about networking, CV construction, unadvertised jobs etc. etc. For anyone worried that this ship has sailed because you had fun at university, don't worry. Many offer post-graduation services for alumni, sometimes for a fee, which you'll have to judge whether it's worth it. 

• Learn how to bake, or be crafty and get a friend to help you out.

Being in publishing entails long hours sat at a desk in an office, like most jobs. I don't know if it's a general office thing, but in my experience, in a publishing office, a bit of cake goes down extremely well. It gives everyone an opportunity to take their minds of the minutiae of English Grammar for a few minutes, and a particularly good batch or unusual recipe will make you memorable. Just remember to be hygienic and warn anybody of potential allergy triggers. And resist the urge to revenge-bake, The Help style. Even if you've had the worst possible time. (See my post on my own nightmare internship.)

• Offer your services for free.

Because it's a fairly crap time for all, and arts graduates need cheering up, there are hundreds of culture blogs and sites springing up all over the place, crying out for submissions and editing. Try Artshub's writing and publishing section - there are normally loads of voluntary positions at blogs and sites. It looks great on your CV, you'll get an audience for your work, and you get to talk about (pretty much) whatever you like. Unless it's neo-Nazism, in which case, stop reading this as you don't deserve anyone's advice, and you should be ashamed of yourself.

Best of luck to all, and remember to message or comment if you have anything to say.

Writers for Vogue US

Vogue.com have just released photos from 'The Custom of the Country', a fashion spread in which Russian model/actress Natalia Vodianova is photographed as the legendary author Edith Wharton. The photos also feature some of the most prominent writers in the US. You can read interviews with many of the subjects, also from the world of film and art here. All the following images are taken from the article, and were shot by Annie Leibovitz. 

Far left: The Virgin Suicides and The Marriage Plot author Jeffrey Eugenides, as Henry James: 

“I’ve read so many of James’s novels, as well as Colm Tóibín’s The Master [a novel based on the life of James] and Leon Edel’s biography. I don’t feel like I resemble Henry exactly, but I understand the man.” 

Third from left: Pulitzer winning writer of The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot  Díaz as lawyer Walter Van Rensselaer Berry.

Second from right: Everything is Illuminated writer Jonathan Safran Foer as architect Ogden Codman, Jr.

Are you a fan of this shoot? Does fashion and literature mix well? Do you also slightly fancy Jonathan Safran Foer? (despite Extremely Loud and Incredibly Boring?)