‘I’m a published writer!’ The shriek echoes through our house.

No, I haven’t got a book contract with Penguin or Knopf Doubleday – or anyone else for that matter. I am very excited because my blog article ‘I don’t knit!‘ (re-titled ‘Crochet by any other name‘), has been published in Passionate Hookers, a magazine-book put out by Brascoe Publishing.

‘Big deal!’ one might say. ‘If a 350-word reminiscence is what you call published, I was published by my high-school newsletter twenty years ago.’

Highly likely, but bear with me. I have never before been published anywhere, and neither of my high-schools ran to newsletters. There is something extremely seductive (I am getting into the swing of things here) in seeing one’s fallible words in beautifully typeset print. Even more alluringly, this publication has an ISBN! But, most of all, it is immensely satisfying to see an article about a TCK experience make it into a non-TCK publication.

This ‘mook’ is a pleasure to read, with contributions by some creative people with remarkable achievements. Well done Brascoe Books!

Now I just have to land that Harlequin contract for my romance novel.

I’ll leave it to you to work out what Passionate Hookers is all about. It is quite affordable (AUD 16.50), and can be ordered online at Brascoe Publishing. You can also get a sneak preview at Brascoe Publishing’s web-site http://www.brascoebooks.com.au/. You will need a flash player – most browsers should be equipped with one by default.

Pinter and the odd literary law of geniuses with crazy politics

While not directly related to TCK matters, it is about perspectives, something TCKs grapple with early – and even, perhaps, grapple with all their lives.

Worth thinking about if, like me, you love creative writing.

Edit 2010-jul-03: I have just stumbled upon the fact that there really is a documented Sleeping Beauty Syndrome (also called Kleine-Levin Syndrome). My article, of course, has nothing to do with this known medical phenomenon, and everything to do with the fairy-tale – of sorts.

Did you ever wonder how that young lady with the damaged finger dealt with waking from her hundred-year sleep? Did she wander out of her castle’s demesne and feel there was a lot of catching up to do?

If she did, apart from her being a beauty, I can relate to her. I felt like I was asleep in my years in Nigeria. I spun my own reality as a child. My awaking upon returning to my birth-country was both pleasant and unpleasant. I feel like I know many cultures, yet none intimately.

This was brought home recently when my creative writing lecturer noted that the premises of some of my submissions were flawed. He added, ‘…anyone who has lived in Australia for the last twenty years, would know that…’ etc. I have lived here for over fifteen, but that is not the point. I don’t know the culture intimately. Will I ever?

‘Write about what you know.’ Sometimes I think the only culture I know is the culture of being transitory.

Of course, my Sleeping Beauty analogy is not fool-proof. She didn’t move across cultures. She moved across time. Culture does change with time – but in whatever hazy long-ago time she lived, how much did it really change? Also she and her family were not alone. All beings in the castle had been asleep – from her parents, past the scullery maid, to the kitchen cat. There was a whole tribe of them feeling out of – er – time.

But… but… the balance of power and the landscape must have changed. A kingdom with a ruler asleep on the job (pardon the pun), would have been taken over by neighbours. New roads, farms, and houses would have appeared. Which raises interesting questions like: how did her parents deal with finding their roles usurped? Perhaps the usurper was the new son-in-law – a win-win situation, let us say. But that is a whole different kettle of fish that I don’t propose to fry.

At the very least, Sleeping Beauty must have struggled to relate to her beloved. Some perspectives must have changed, no matter how ancient the century.

Fairy-tales: clichéd, illogical, but still full of charm.

Back to my lecturer. Amazingly, while I was writing this, he called me. In the course of the conversation, it dawned on me that despite the unimpressive grades, he is genuinely impressed with my persistence this semester – and equally impressed with the language skills of this obviously non-native speaker of it! Perhaps there is something to be said, after all, for being an out-of-touch Sri-Lankan-Nigerian-Australian ATCK!

It’s just nice to feel validated.