Consider the following sentence: The green grass was full of doctors, all dressed in their dazzlingly white surgical coats. Now consider Sylvia Plath's version: The Lawn was white with doctors. (from The Bell Jar) I don't think you'll even have to think about it when I ask: Which is the better sentence? But what about…
A Festival-Goer Field Guide
The Auckland Writers and Readers Festival kicks off tomorrow. I have spent the equivalent of a small Third World country's debt buying tickets to the various workshops, author talks and seminars on offer. I can't wait. They're a funny lot, W & R Festival-Goers. It's worth the admission price just to sit outside the various…
My New Philosophy
Note: You might want to listen to P!nk's "Raise Your Glass" while reading this. It'll get you in a suitably rebellious mood. I have been listening to a lot of well-intentioned writing advice lately. The voices have been telling me how I should be writing, when and for how long. They've been telling me I'll…
The Gift of Poetry
I love getting presents, especially when they are precisely what I want at that moment in time. But if I could only get one more present for the rest of my life, it would be this: a poem written exclusively for me, by one of the poets I truly love. I would want to meet…
Gender Matters Matter
I dug this poem out today - I must have written it when I was around 9 or 10. What a laugh. I'll admit, along with some subtle editing, I've made one significant change today - Elly has changed from a boy to a girl elephant (and without the complicated surgery.) Recently I read an opinion piece…
My Wee Winning Story
My, that's a large one. I refer to the photo of my face that jumped out and slapped me as I opened the April issue of Reader's Digest (New Zealand edition). With the issue finally out today, I can announce that out of thousands of entries I am one of two runners-up in the NZ Readers…
The Hurty Bottom and other stories
The most gorgeous 5-yr-old in the universe (aka my daughter, Miss B.) was awarded a certificate at her school assembly this morning. The certificate read: "For writing some awesome stories so far this year. You are trying so hard with your writing!" Miss B. is turning into quite a storyteller. Every morning after mat time the…
You can take the girl out of Ireland…
I was born in Northern Ireland, and lived with my family in a little (as in: blink or you'll miss it) village called Altnamackin in County Armagh until we made the long and alienating journey to New Zealand in 1974. I was named after Patrick, the Patron Saint of Ireland, who, legend has it, planted a…
That is not what I meant, at all
Recently I had to submit a forty-word statement on "What Writing Means To Me" to a literary magazine, as a preface to one of my short stories. My toes curled in horror and I could feel my computer keyboard bracing itself for some recalcitrant bashing and prodding. I just hate that sort of thing. It…
Recently I found out that a literary magazine (Takahē, published quarterly here in New Zealand) is keen to publish one of my short stories. In the same week, I learned that I am one of two runners-up in a writing competition I entered a couple of months ago. (I can't tell you any more details as they…
Patricia Bell, Author 