There I was, expecting to wait much longer before the next collection went ahead. I sent a sample in, and a couple of weeks later, had a request for the rest of the typescript. I sent this off, and enjoyed a few days away in Hebden Bridge. A week or two later, the whole collection was back on my doormat when I returned home from the dayjob. Oh no, not more rejection, I thought. They don’t like it and it’s a no this time, with…. maybe an outside chance if the whole thing is revised? I didn’t want to open the envelope. However, the small independent presses work on different timescales to the ACE funded ones and the conglomerates, and I was delighted to find an acceptance letter instead, together with an approximate plan of what would happen next. At last, the collection is go! This one’s taken forever to drag across the finishing line, thanks to a combination of ‘life events’ and the cost of living crisis. On the latest information, Balloons and Stripey Trousers should be available from Shoestring Press in early 2024, and details will be published on here when the time is ready. It’s about the workplace. The toxic workplace. Welcome to the circus!
I mentioned Hebden Bridge above, a place I’ve known as a Northern arts town with lots of creativity and festive flair, in addition to the Arvon Foundation at Lumb Bank up the road, and its connections with Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes. I’ve only passed through on previous occasions, although my parents used to go there as a daytrip on the Metro train from Leeds. I had a fun time in the artisan shops and came away with costume-wear and haberdashery, a couple of books, and the impression that it’s one of the most overcrowded towns in the UK during the holiday season, and there wasn’t a square
centimetre to park on anywhere during the day. Fortunately I stayed at a hostel with its own parking (next to the Birchcliffe Centre) and my initial panic soon dispersed. Nearly everywhere is at a 45 degree angle with narrow bends, so you have to appreciate hills if you want to get the best from this unique place. I attended a poetry reading at Heptonstall, and it’s quite something to hear the wind rushing through the trees beside a ruined churchyard, while people recite Hughes’ poems in the ancient museum next door. The work becomes more alive, in some ways, and several people in the audience had either met Hughes in person or corresponded with him. The museum venue had a beautiful black and white cat in residence, which is a definite plus.
It was my second visit to the Lincoln Steampunk Asylum in August. On my first outing I had a blue long dress converted from a Laura Ashley design, and a straw boater with a big white veil. I thought I would have more accessories this year, as one of the main tenets of steampunk seems to be – wear everything, all at once, and make it cumbersome. So I made a butterfly net from a wire hoop and a garden cane, and took a cape I had converted from a short swingback coat. I needed the cape because it turned out rainy on the day I went – but I soon became aware that I was under-dressed yet again for this occasion; modestly sweeping about in an old green frock with a long underskirt, and my undecorated hat with the home-
made goggles on it. What I really should have worn, evidently, was a heap of items bought from the online retail giant while wielding an immense stage-prop weapon like an engine part from H.G Wells’ time machine. Perhaps I’m not cut out to be a Steampunk and I should give up now, before I make more outfits. I enjoyed the people-watching though; it was a fantastical and hilarious event, recommended if you happen to be in Lincoln over the late Bank Holiday.
Rennie Parker's Bookstop 