It has been over a week since I have returned from the Shropshire hills which was the base for the 'starting to write' Arvon course I attended. Staying at The Hurst, the late John Osborne's (playwright) abode, a group of us 16 budding writers met for the first time. Myself and several others slept in the clockhouse (pictured above) which was also the building for the kitchen, reading room and dining area. It was quite an adventure full of workshops, writing and walking the woodlands, gardens and country lanes!
The rest of the group had rooms in the house, which was John Osborne's home...
Tutored by poet Moniza Alvi and novelist Niall Griffiths we had morning workshops followed by tutorials. I spent all my time writing and rewriting poetry and working on shot pieces of prose. I explored the countryside which was delightful and particularly enjoyed the surrounding woodlands, where it is known John Osborne passed out rotten drunk during a mid-night rain storm.
I have learnt so much from this course that I can put into practice and I am working on my collection of poetry as I write this. Here is a short extract from the last piece I composed whilst away...
Silently she pushed (extract)
Silently she pushed
the wet, wooden wheelbarrow up the narrow path,
in her long brown coat - elbows poking out.
It swooped and flapped, striking hard against her legs.
A gust of wind tore her grey and raffia hair across her narrow mouth.
She spat. Curled in her stinging lips. At the bend
she stopped. A tree-tumbling thud, dropped
the cart of crops. And reached down
with a snap of her aching back - a crumpled sheet of sunburnt paper...
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