Well, hello! It seems so long since I was last here. I don't know, time is rushing by and the world's spinning too fast, I just can't keep up with things. But right now, I'm waiting for my dinner to cook -- I am sitting down, waiting, doing nothing else and able, finally, to tell you all about my trip to London the other week.

It was the Forward Prizes awards -- an annual UK poetry prize, and one of our authors, Simon Barraclough was shortlisted for the best first collection award. Chris had been in previous years but wasn't feeling too good, so I was very happy to go in his place. I brushed my hair, printed out a map and set off for the train station.

When I arrived in London I got on the tube, and then clutching my map, made sure that I held it the right way up, walked the right direction down the right road and followed it, determined to find the venue without getting lost. After a few minutes though I had to ask for help -- I couldn't quite work out what had gone wrong, but the road that should have been next on the left wasn't there.

I found someone who knew London (which is more of an achievement than it sounds) and showed her the map:

me, pointing at the map: I got off at Warren Street station there, walked down this road and am trying to find that one.

Kind Helper: well, the map says Warren Street station, but the one you came out of was Russell Square.

OMG! What a complete idiot! I had got off at the wrong underground station and then made myself believe that I was following the map, when it was obviously impossible to. No street on the ground matched anything on the map. I despair of myself sometimes!

Anyway, I finally made it to the right place and was sorry that Simon didn't win the prize (robbed of it, he was!). The venue was packed and we were lucky enough to be right at the front where the awards were being made otherwise I don't think we would have heard or seen much at all. When the woman who won the prize for Best First Collection got to the microphone to read a poem, a man just next to me passed out. Great drama followed; the words "Is there a doctor in the house?" were said into the mic, someone shouted for an ambulance, no one quite knew whether the room should be vacated or not. Someone who was presumably a doctor came forward and the man regained consciousness, but the poor prize-winning poet never got her chance to read anything out -- I did feel sorry for her.

Such high drama, what an evening.

I took a photo of Simon looking rather splendid, here it is:



I've got loads more to tell you and will do my very best to make time stop for me this week. Meanwhile, I smell my dinner and wish a happy weekend to y'all.

Life in the Salt Office has been transformed since we actually got an office at the end of June. We've now been in the pink house in the neighbouring village for 3 months (though we've still not finished moving in -- nothing's on the walls, filing cabinets are still in our living room back at the old 'office', stuff's still lost in boxes), but I can't tell you just how big a difference it's made to our lives, both on a personal level and for Salt.

As mentioned in previous blog posting, we now have Tom working with us. Tom is our Publishing Assistant: he helps keep us on order, sends out orders, review copies, liaises with shops and generally keeps us sane and tidy. Tom works here every morning, though sadly not for ever as he's off to university soon to study geography.



Once a month we have Tish come in. She is a Book Keeper who loves and understands accounts and Sage accounts software (unlike anyone here). Tish keeps all of our accounts up to date and does it right (unlike anyone here!). I can't tell you what a difference she makes to the quality of my life as it used to be me who had to do it, and I just don't have a clue.



Other additional benefits of being here are:

People can come and visit us and we don't need to spend half a day cleaning the house beforehand (not that it would make much difference). So far we've had Charles Lambert, Tania Hershman, Richard Burns, Josephine Balmer & Simon Perril pop in for a coffee.

And of course there's the Co-op across the road that provides an endless source of activity to watch and cake to buy. My thanks to everyone who assured me that my weight gain is, in fact, the build up of muscle from cycling every day and nothing whatsoever to do with Tom's buying buying habits or those extra large portions :-)

A wet day, cold and windy - just perfect for sitting down and watching some old film on the telly with a packet of biscuits and a large pot of tea.

Just to get you in the mood while the kettle's boiling, here's a bit of Salt TV for your entertainment. Sit back, relax and enjoy the sights of Cork and the Frank O'Connor Festival photos (my thanks to Tania Hershman and Wena Poon who 'donated' some of the pics from their blogs, though they may not have realised that until now, oops):

It's true! No, I'm not a closet novelist -- I've just found out that one of my photos has been included in an on-line guide to Cambridge. I haven't been paid (hmm, does that sound familiar), but, hey, someone picked my photo and it's in there!

Here's a link to the bit of the guide. You might need to wait a bit for my photo to pop up. Blink and you miss it:


Magdalene College

And here's the photo, for your interest:

This weekend I really appreciated the finer things in life - the things that come free and even through getting older. On Friday evening, Chris was out, Kirsty had a friend stay over and I let Callum stay up late and together we sat and watched YouTube videos. He seems to know his way round them and showed me some really funny ones. We had a lovely time and I was really grateful to have a boy who's growing up into such a lovely interesting person, and is such great company. That then is a good thing about getting old - everyone around you is too, including your children.

Yesterday the weather was absolutely beautiful and I slipped out of the house, jumped onto my bike and headed down to the other side of the village where I had spied some brambles growing. The bushes were dripping in them; masses of huge juicy berries hanging there, falling off at the slightest touch. In no time at all I had picked enough for several jars of jam and an apple and bramble crumble. I went home and started the boiling and mashing part of the jam process.

I've taken some photos and made a little short video. Here it is for your interest and possibly, inspiration:



Believe me, it is delicious!

Today we celebrated our wedding anniversary with a gorgeous roast beef dinner and the aforementioned crumble. We toasted the past, the future and our anonymous benefactor - he or she who sent us the Sainsbury's gift card with which our dinner was bought. Such a kind thing to do and much enjoyed by us all. My intention was to have this last Monday when I got back from Cork (it was our anniversary while I was away), but truth be known, it took me all week to recover from Irish hospitality and a glut of stories. But it was worth the wait!

I hope you all had a great weekend and I wish you all a fruitful and pleasent week, full of all things lovely and peaceful.

Every now and again I'm caught short by the fact that I'm no longer as young as I used to be. I say that as a sprightly 41-year old; hardly getting on. But today I stood on the scales and discovered that since we moved into the office, cycling for 30 mins+ every day into the wind, as well as walking the dog most days (I'm getting Son 1 to do this sometimes - he wants a computer game and this is the best way of getting those vital merit marks, is it not), I have managed, somewhat amazingly, to put on 4 pounds. Four pounds, I ask you! How did that happen?

I blame two things: the hospitality of the good people of Cork and, er, being in my 40s. Now, that final excuse is rather lame, I know, and it wouldn't have occurred to me had it not been for Tom, our Salt helper who's doing wonders at getting us sorted out (ie making that all important shift away from empty cupboards and full boxes).

This morning I suggested to Tom that he might just want to nip over to the Co-op and grab some cake, to go with our cup of tea, since it's Friday and all. He came back with a cake and made some tea and then said to me:

'How much cake would you like, Jen -- just a little piece?'
Huh? 'Nope, I don't do little pieces of cake -- I'll have a quarter, please.'
'Oh right, it's just that my mum always says "Just a little piece for me"'

Oh my Good God! Not only did I feel like a complete greedy pig, but also old enough to be his mum (which I easily am, but that's beside the point). And his mum is really slim. Perhaps there's a lesson to be learnt here!



That's a picture I took on my way into work -- old gravestones. Hmm.

I've been back a couple of days now and only just about recovered enough to write about the time I spent at the Frank O'Connor Festival in Cork. I guess that means that I did it right! The festival started on Wed 17th Sept; I arrived late on the 19th. The full programme is here -- usually the line-up comprises the shortlisted authors and as there was no official shortlist this year, I like to think that the people who read would have been on it (certainly, they deserved to be). I met so many people, heard so many stories, saw so many fantastic sights, it's difficult to condense it all. But hopefully the following account gives you some idea of how it all went.

Friday, 19th September:

Today our short story author Charles Lambert travelled up to Cambridge and came to visit us in the office. What a treat it was for us and I'm only sorry we couldn't spend longer with him. We did a quick video recording of him talking about his work for our website and then it was a case of rushing off into Cambridge to start my journey to Cork. I am rather ashamed to admit that this was only my second trip to Ireland, with my first one being in 1989 when I brought the New Year in in Dublin after a U2 concert (my memory of that is rather hazy), so I was greatly looking forward to being in Ireland again, as well the festival.

I was met at the airport by Eva from the Munster Literature Centre, who organise the award and the festival. She took me to my hotel, I had a quick shower and then made way way to the reading venue, The Triskel Arts Centre, which was a rather pleasant 15 mins walk through Cork city centre. The sun was setting, casting beautiful light on the painted buildings of the city, the streets were busy as shops were still open and on every lamp post down the main shopping street were banners advertising the festival, which I must say was a thrilling sight. I found my way to the alley opposite the art nouveau cinema and sat down at the back of a packed auditorium to hear the end of Mary O'Donnell's reading (how I wished I'd heard the beginning!). Then there was a break; folk filed out into the pub across the alleyway and I was pleased to finally meet Pat Cotter, festival director, as well as Salt authors Vanessa Gebbie, Carys Davies and Tania Hershman. Tania had read that afternoon as part of the Southword journal showcase - I was sorry to have missed her. A quick drink and catch up and then back in the hall to sit back and enjoy readings from Cork-based novelist Mary Leland and San-Francisco-based Wena Poon, who is originally from Singapore. Wena performed for 40 minutes and I wished she'd kept going - so lively and refreshing.

Far from being the end of the evening, it was sort of the start of it: in true Gaelic tradition, off we went to the pub and stayed until the wee small hours. Declan from The Stinging Fly walked me back to the hotel at some ungodly hour and just as we'd stepped out in the street told me that the last time he was out late away from home ended up in A&E. Glad he warned me, and gladder that he didn't repeat it.

Saturday 20th September

My wedding anniversary. Called home and was rather touched (and surprised) that husband wished me a happy anniversary immediately, without any prompting. At breakfast I remembered how grumpy I am in the mornings before a decent caffeine hit and later felt the need to apologise for my bad behaviour (example: Q to me: "Do you write, Jen?' Me, looking aghast: 'When would I have the time to do that?!' Grr). Vowed that the next morning I'd try to avoid happy, awake people.

Did a quick spot of shopping for children's presents and then back to the Triskel Arts Centre to hear who had won the Sean O'Faolain Prize, which was judged this year by Nuala Ni Chonchuir. It was New jersey writer Julia Van Middlesworth, who then read her winning story 'Daddy Dead' -- so wonderful and moving in every way; a worthy winner and a wonderful reading and end to morning.

I had to rush my lunch and couldn't eat much of it for the next session was the panel discussion on 'The State of the Art', which I was taking part in, alongside Rosalind Porter, Senior Ed at Granta, Declan from the Stinging Fly and Lucy Luck, Literary Agent. It was a lively interesting discussion that could have gone on much longer. Hopefully the audience were left feeling that the short story has a future and that there are people out there supporting it and getting it out into the world, and even trying to eke out a living from selling them.

This was followed a series of mind-blowing, gut wrenching readings, packed with emotion at every level. Salt authors Carys Davies and Vanessa Gebbie kicked off. I have read their stories many times but despite knowing every word they still affected me. Carys's voice was a bit croaky and she gave the occasional sniff - she denies that this was her being emotional, but whatever it was, it was very effective and I swear there wasn't a dry eye on the house. After Vanessa's reading, people were in need of a swift one in the pub before the evening session (for all the right reasons!). Alison McLeod gave a stunning performance of her story 'Dirty Weekend', which honestly took me a walk around the block to recover from, followed by Simon Robson (one of last year's shortlisted authors) -- he has the most wonderful voice and I could listen to him reading out a telephone directory. Julie Orringer's story was next, which haunted me that evening, infiltrated my dreams and I still felt the horror of it when I woke up in the morning. And lastly, Bernard MacLaverty read 'The Clinic' full of wit, which I must admit, I was grateful for.

We left for the pub full of every emotion possible, on a high, pumped with passion for the short story in all its wonderful forms. I went to bed at 3am.

Sunday 21 September

I woke up at 8am, head swimming, and made it down to breakfast for about 9.30. Carys and I went out into the town: she signed copies of her book in Waterstones and I had some more caffeine. Then we headed back to the hotel for lunch with Jhumpa Lahiri, winner of the Frank O'Connor Prize. It is always a pleasure meeting new authors in real life and I was pleased to get the chance to exchange a few words with her. After lunch, Vanessa and I decided that rather than go to our rooms for some sleep (which others were doing, I don't know, some folk can't take the pace), we'd go for a walk into town to see if we could find the City Hall where the prize ceremony was to be held that evening. The sun was shining (don't believe the story that it rains a lot in Cork - it's a vicious rumour designed by the people of Cork so that they can keep the place to themselves) and it was good to get a breather and stretch our legs, use our eyes instead of our ears, and take in a bit of that fine city. We stumbled across a peace festival in a park and spent an hour or so listening to music, having a bit of a jiggle and looking around. Just what the doctor ordered.

The grand finale was the awarding of the prize to Jhumpa Lahiri in the Cork City Hall by the Deputy Lord Mayor. She then read a piece from her winning book and was interviewed by Eileen Battersby. All wonderfully interesting!

I had an earlish night that evening (though it was still after closing time - I hate to miss out on things) and was up before the crack of dawn to catch my plane back home. The taxi driver asked where we'd eaten - I told him and he said, 'oh you'll get a good sandwich in there: nice thick bread.' What a wonderful parting shot - how I love Cork!

I'll put together a slide show of some of the wonderful people I met, too many to mention here. Thank you to Pat and everyone at the Munster Literature Centre for such a fantastic event and for looking after everyone so well.

I know I mentioned this yesterday, but today the penny dropped that tomorrow I'm going to Cork. I was cycling in to work, the sun was shining and the morning was beautiful, when I realised that I need to work out how to get to the airport, pack, etc etc. Luckily the good people at the Frank O'Connor Festival have sorted out everything else or I'd also be trying to find a floor to sleep on. I'm so looking forward to my visit - to the festival and to the city, though between you and me, I'm rather anxious about the panel discussion -- it sounds like I'm going to have to have something to say! Don't they know that I only publish books?

However, my trip coincides with our wedding anniversary, which is on Saturday. Seventeen years, it's hard to believe. So we are going to celebrate on Monday. A very kind, anonymous person sent Chris and me a Sainsbury's gift card -- I am going to spend it on Monday on a nice leg of lamb and everything we need for a lovely big celebratory family roast dinner. I am so looking forward to it -- thank you to our generous person -- we'll be toasting you on Monday.

Until Tuesday, then. I'll be taking lots of pics while I'm away - I feel the need for a slide show. Here, meanwhile, is a photo of what I bought this morning on my way to work: some lovely fresh carrots, straight out of the ground.



PS: check out this link to the Guardian Book Blog and read what it says about Salt's new magazine! :-))

One of the reasons I've been so quiet here over the past few weeks is that I've been busy busy publishing lotsa lovely new books. Here is a quick update on our new short story collections, and some other news too, for good measure:

Here are the new books we've published:

'Sister Morphine' by Catherine Eisner, who is a regular contributor to Ambit Magazine. 'Sister Morphine' has been reviewed in The Age newspaper in Australia: 'Eisner has mastered the twist in the tale and her stories cascade vividly into derangement.' It's true!

'Rothko's Red' by Sue Hubbard, art critic for the Independent and New Statesman and on-sale at the Tate bookshop during the Rothko exhibition. Sue Hubbard's stories are about the lives of women, subtly linked by painting and art.

Andre Mangeot's 'A Little Javanese'; these stories take you to different corners of the world: from Paris to New York to the island of Java, with his characters facing complex situations or decisions that define the nature of what it means to be human.

'The White Road & Other Stories' by Tania Hershman: Tania is well-known throughout MySpace and the blogosphere, and is the founder and editor of The Short Review, and a number of the stories in her first collection are inspired by articles from science magazines, taking fact as their starting points and wondering what might happen if . . .?

And finally, though by no means least, 'A Scent of Cinnamon' by Charles Lambert.. Author of the highly acclaimed novel 'Little Monsters' we are delighted to have Charles join Salt's list. His collection of stories deal with life, love, loneliness, delusion, misunderstanding, death. Their settings range from the colonial outback in the late nineteenth century to contemporary city life.

And more news of the short story front: we are thrilled and delighted that two of our stories are being read out on BBC Radio 4 this week in a series entitled 'In the Bookshops Now'. Carys Davies kicked the series off yesterday with her story 'Monday's Diary' from her Salt collection Some New Ambush, and on Friday, he series concludes on Friday with 'The Way to Behave', which is the Observer's listening choice of the day: "a clever tale by Elizabeth Baines, in which a social worker takes a slow revenge on her husband's far too nice mistress. Reader Lesley Sharp invests her character with just the right amount of venom as she recalls her fateful first discovery of a blonde hair: 'a gold worm, hooked and wriggling..."

You can listen to these readings at your leisure on-line for up to a week after their broadcast: the link is here!. Do take 15 minutes out of your day, sit back with a cup of tea and a biscuit and enjoy them. Many congratulations to Carys and Elizabeth.

Salt has also launched a new on-line magazine, Horizon Review, which features poetry, short stories, translations, art, reviews . . . I've linked you to a blog article which links to the magazine as well as some of the many blog entries and articles that have been written about it over the past couple of days. It's going to come out twice a year and I'm sure you'll agree is a rich and diverse and thoroughly enjoyable addition to our website. Many congratulations to Jane Holland for pulling it together so wonderfully.

And finally, I'm off to Cork on Friday for the Frank O'Connor Festival, which I'm very excited about. I've never been to Cork before and the line-up is fantastic: 3 Salt authors (Carys Davies, Vanessa Gebbie and Tania Hershman) and a host of short story stars from around the world, discussions and workshops. I'm taking part on a panel discussion on 'The State of the Art' on the Saturday. The full programme and info on the Frank O'Connor Prize can be found here.

So, you're about up to date with our short story news, though there is loads that I've not mentioned here: authors winning pries, attending festivals, readings . . . (we try and keep the Salt Confidential blog up to date with news).

Phew!! I've exhausted myself - time for a cuppa!

Oh it's so long since I've stopped long enough to post something here. Right now I'm meant to be tidying the house -- I've been shouting at the kids, giving out instructions and getting them moving; I then come upstairs and lie on the bed! If they catch me I'm in trouble.

The thing is, I'm absolutely knackered. I've been kept awake for weeks every night by toddler who keeps waking up and yelling. He's tired and grumpy too, winding up his siblings who retaliate by refusing to help tidy as much of the mess is caused by their younger brother. It's so wearisome!

Our summer holiday in Dorset (which now seems like eons ago) was fine, though wet and it took me a good week of it to settle down - I was like a wound-up elastic band, so frustrated at not getting everyone out walking and doing things. I felt like getting in the car and going away on my own holiday with the dog and a pair of hiking boots. But I stuck with it and eventually managed to relax enough to enjoy it and to stop being a misery to everyone else. We did get out and about, I met a few Strangers for my photography project (I'm now up to 15) and it was a good break that I probably needed.

Back at work now and things are busy busy, with lots of fabby new books, both poetry and short stories, and loads of things on the go, all very exciting as ever. We've got a young man helping us for a few months - Tom, a gap year student. Goodness, what a difference he's making! I now need to draw up a list of all the developmental-type work that I need to do that i now can actually more or less fit into my day.

The children have gone back to school -- Callum's started secondary, Cameron's started pre-school & is still going to nursery, and Kirsty's still at primary. It does get rather confusing and we have taken Cameron to the wrong place on the wrong day. Chris and I cycle to work every day, which is great - I can't imagine ever driving there now. It's only 15 mins (10 coming home cos the wind's blowing the right way) and it's lovely. Even when it's raining, we're not out in it long enough to get seriously soaked too often. I even cycled to Camrbidge train station and home again the other day and had a boozy evening with a friend. It took me 50 mins to get home and I don't remember a second of it! My knees are absolutely black and blue - I have no idea what happened. (yikes).

Anyway, that's a quick round up. I'll delve into MS Peeps' blogs to see what you've all been up to over the past few weeks. Meanwhile, have a lovely weekend everyone. I'm off to hang up some washing cos the sun is shining **swoon!**

holiday time!! Proof = the computer's off!

Every Wednesday in Great Wilbraham ---

I've hardly written anything here for ages and I've got tonnes to tell you! I don't want to bore you all rigid, so will be snappy about it.

For a start, most significantly, it is the school summer holidays. They broke up about two weeks ago and -- we're still alive! No one has been murdered by parent/sibling, run away or locked themselves in the shed, never to reappear. Not bad going, eh!

This is possibly partly because last week I took the children and dog away up to my mum's. She's just moved back to Glasgow and this was the first chance I'd had to show children where I went to school, played etc etc.. And to treat them to various things Glasgow, thus:

Haggis Supper
lorne sausage
proper rolls
Crolla's ice cream
tablet
Tunnock's Caramel Logs
Irn Bru
a real river (the Clyde)
a good dose of accent


I managed to bag myself 4 Strangers, all of whom were lovely -- you can see them here. The sun shone, the dog got some great walks and it was a lovely week. For us,that is -- poor Chris was left behind and spent most of his time in the office -- he said the house was too depressing to be in. Empty beer bottles under the desk and Chinese cartons are proof!

The weekend just gone was World Portrait Days, when folk were to go out and take pictures of as many people as possible and put them onto the Dedicated Flickr Website, with the aim of 1,000,000 pictures being displayed from all around the world. I decided to take part.

Day 1: I was at work and managed to take 3 photos (of the children!)
Day 2: It rained, I had no car and was in Gt Wilbraham, resident pop 200, half of whom were on holiday, the other half hiding indoors. So I resorted to knocking on doors and lurking around the shop. Managed to take 21 pictures.
Day 3: Took Callum into Cambridge with me -- pretended to be a snap-happy tourist and clicked non-stop for 2 hours. Took over 400 photos, most of which were blurred/missing heads. Managed to salvage around 30 decent ones. It was great fun though -- Cambridge was enjoying a break in the clouds and it was a happy place to be.

So, 54 pictures donated to the project, or 0.000054% of the whole. Ah well, every little helps! You can see my photos here.

And finally (really, you don't need to look so relieved!), a quick toddler update:

1. He is now potty trained. Hurray!
2. He has an imaginary friend called Jake. So sweet -- they play at the park together and Jake sits at the dinner table and generally takes part in everything domestic. However, this Jake fella is a bad influence. On Saturday he made Cameron go to the village shop on his own, wearing only a pair of his dad's socks that went up to his thighs and a T-Shirt. Off he went to the shop, chatted away to the shop keeper, helped himself to a packet of Milky Bar Buttons and then came home. We didn't notice that he'd gone until he was almost back. Fortunately, the shop is about 50 yards away with no roads to cross, but nevertheless, what terrible parents we felt. Damn that Jake!

Is it possible to photograph a million people in one weekend?

World Portrait Day will take place over the weekend of August 1-3, 2008. On that weekend, everyone is encouraged to go out and take portraits of people and hopefully by the end of it, photographs of 1,000,000 people will be loaded onto the World Portrait Day website, hosted by Flickr.

If you are a Flickr member, do join this group and take part. If you're not on Flickr, then join it! Photos can be friends or family, of course, but please take many photos of strangers as well and explain a little bit about the project. You might set up a photo booth in the town square, or approach people as you walk the street, or attend a public event and photograph people there. It is hoped that people will also add many of their pictures to the 6 Million People group, which is sponsoring the event. In that group, they are collecting photos of 6 million different people, one portrait at a time, in order to create a memorial for all Holocaust victims. So if you are taking part, please add all your photos to World Portrait Days, and add 1 portrait of each person you photograph on that day to 6 Million People.

Have a look at the discussions on the websites for more ideas and information. And get your camera charged up and ready for the weekend. Happy snapping, everyone!

I am thrilled and delighted to tell you that our very own Catherine Eisner's novel, 'Sister Morphine' has arrived from the printer and is winging its way to Borders who are featuring it in a promotion.

Now, can I be so bold as to suggest that you buy a copy of this book and make it your Summer Read. It is, and I don't use the word lightly, amazing. Have a look at this page on our website -- listen to the podcasts and you'll get an idea of the treat you have in store.