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9780415317856_the_routledge_creative_writing_coursebook

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www.ATIBOOK.irThe <strong>routledge</strong> <strong>creative</strong> <strong>writing</strong> book 28With tears, your chin on your knees, unfoldingThe usual: how useless a fa<strong>the</strong>r how reckless a lover;How just one more drink, how I don’t deserve.I half-listen; it’s always that way with you.I concentrate on <strong>the</strong> upturned collar of your jacketThe truth is always in what’s not being said.Unexpectedly, across <strong>the</strong> street, an alfresco party,The end of a wedding. A woman in red satin,Confetti still in her hair, laughs at <strong>the</strong> wide sky.Six stops away from <strong>the</strong> Victoria line, <strong>the</strong> hostelIn Copenhagen Street, Chris on <strong>the</strong> night shift,Miracle worker; rearranges <strong>the</strong> confiscations,The cans of Special, <strong>the</strong> pocket knives.As well as <strong>the</strong> basic narrative of what happened, who said what to whom, where andwhen, this poem is variously overshadowed by o<strong>the</strong>r events. What happened echoes whathappened once, what was said—or not said—before. The poet has chosen a momentwhich shapes time—afterwards things will not be as <strong>the</strong>y were. O<strong>the</strong>r events happeningin <strong>the</strong> present and simultaneously—<strong>the</strong> party across <strong>the</strong> street, <strong>the</strong> night shift—cast <strong>the</strong>irshade and light on <strong>the</strong> situation, but it may be that <strong>the</strong> final stanza misses it, becomes anew scene, not an overshadowing. Drafts are important, especially in workshopsituations. Should this last stanza be omitted? Some might think so, o<strong>the</strong>rs feel lesscertain, but everyone knows <strong>the</strong> writer herself will have <strong>the</strong> last word.No Story?In <strong>the</strong> extracts below, <strong>the</strong> Australian poet Les Murray explores an absence of story,giving it a specific setting that might apply more widely. Moments are seen in a type oflife without overshadowing or shape:from ‘Driving Through Sawmill Towns’… You glide on through town,Your mudguards damp with cloud.The houses <strong>the</strong>re wear verandahs out of shyness,All day in calendared kitchens, women listenFor cars on <strong>the</strong> road,Lost children in <strong>the</strong> bush,

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