MEMBERS CORNER

COLLECTION OF LIMERICKS

By Findlay McKechnie

I'm stuck in this poor old body

I'm trapped in this poor old shell

But beneath the skin

I'm the same old Fin

But how the hell can you tell?


By Carol Jell

There was young pup called Tia
Sometimes known as Tia-Maria

She pee-ed on the floor
Carol shouted "no more"

Now Tia's known as "Tia the pee-er."


By Helga Parl

There once was a hen called Wendy
Her eggs came often quite handy

The cock cried hurray
I will have my way

His name was deservedly Randy.

By Jennifer Nosovich

There once was a short man named Drew
Who loved a tall lady called Sue

Because he was short
He thought that he ought

Show her he had parts that grew.


By Anna Arnold

We danced till the morning came
Passions burning,we felt no shame

He held me tight
For just that night

And I never did learn his name.



By Lorraine Cobcroft

There once was a young man named Dean

Who fell madly in love with the queen

He sent his message of love

On the wings of a dove,

But its droppings did cause quite a scene!



By Maarten Wijnberg

A French aristocratic baby in Brest

Possessed an impressive crest

The young and the old

Gave him jewels and gold

But he thought, just give me the breast

***BOOKSIGNING***

     FAIRFIELD WRITERS GROUP

 BOOKSIGNING EVENT

Fairfield Writers Group launched its first anthology of short stories, Beginnings: Queensland stories, on September 26 2009.

Due to popular demand we are having a booksigning event.

   Come meet the writers of this wonderful collection of stories.

                                   Come one and all!

WHERE: INDOOROOPILLY LIBRARY
                 Level 4, Indooroopilly Shoppingtown
                 322 Moggill Road
                 Indooroopilly Qld 4068
WHEN:   SUNDAY 31ST OCTOBER, 2010
TIME:     10.30AM

Shanghai Literary Festival - Report 19th March 2010

Fifty one authors from twenty countries presented at the eighth annual Shanghai Literary Festival that closed today (March 19).

The Festival, held over three weeks from March 5 attracted novelists, would be novelists, poets, journalists, intellectuals, historians and travel writers from many parts of the world and from throughout China.

There were four or more sessions held each day over the three week period and these included literary lunches, panel discussions, workshops, sessions for children - and more.

Some of the authors featured included Robert Dessaix (Australian writer, broadcaster, essayist and translator), Junot Diaz ( Pulitzer Prize winner ), Tash Aw (Whitbread Young Novelist), Les Murray (Australian poet) and Linda Jaivin.

Findlay McKechnie, one of our Fairfield Writers Group members, attended several of the fifty-seven Festival events.

Findlay, who is still in Asia reported today that he was amazed at the emphasis in some of the sessions on the need for today's authors to self-promote as publishing houses reserved almost all of their marketing and publicity funds for perhaps two or three of the big name authors like Dan Brown or J K Rowling.

One author Kristin Bair O"Keefe, an American living in Shanghai, was particularly forceful on the question of marketing and promotion, Kristin (author of "Thirsty" about a Croatian woman in an abusive marriage) gave an excellent presentation entitled "The Art of Shameless Self Promotion". She told how she used her own money for a seven week book tour of the US East Coast, hired a publicist at her own expense, and went to extraordinary lengths to sell her book and get herself know to the publishing world.

She reckons she spends up to two hours a day now chatting on Twitter, Facebook and other websites in her bid to get herself known to the reading public, She also places great store on networking with other authors and those involved in the literary world.

Findlay will provide further details at one of the FWG's meetings in May when he returns to Australia.

SHORT STORY: THE HAT by Findlay

Written at Writing Workshop 9th January 2010.
Free Writing Exercise: Word prompt - hat


She had bought the hat on a whim.

It was not the sort of hat that she would normally have chosen but the price was right. It was made of coarse linen in a floral pattern and drooped, she hoped seductively, over one eye.

With luck, she thought, it would be good for business. Certainly it would stand out. It was a hat, she believed, that would be seen from afar. It would be a like a beacon, and perhaps in time become her trademark. “The Woman in the Floral Hat” had a certain ring to it.

She loosened the top button of her blouse, checked that the seams of her fishnets were straight beneath her short black skirt and walked out, hat on head, to stand at the street corner.

If business picked up, she thought, I might get a second hat just like the first.

The end.

Author: Findlay