Finish Your Collapse & Stay for Breakfast

Friend: Just talk to her, I mean you slept together.

Him:  Not like that.

Friend:  OK, so you shared a bed together, talking to her shouldn’t be such a big deal. I’m still surprised that nothing happened!

Him:  There’s a time and place.

Friend:  Oh shit! She coming towards you, I’m out.

Him:  Erm, I’d like to see you again.

Her:  That would be great.

Him:  Cool, then we should swap numbers or something.

Her:  Okay.

Him:  So, are you staying for breakfast? My man here’s cooked up a storm.

Her:  Uhm, no… No, I would love to but I have to go.

Him:  Go do what?

Her:  Excuse me?

Him:  Stay.

Her:  I don’t know.

Him:  Just stay, at least there’s something to do here. If not, we’ll think of something?

14/06/2011

Chat with Coin

Short background about yourself.

Bookworm.

 

What were you like at school?

I was a nerd through and through – although I didn’t like going to school per se. Insane affinity for mathematics. Diligent, highly inquisitive although I abhorred the construct of “school”. On Wednesdays, Gabsie and I had mini-Saturday – where we’d go to Hatfield to chill and that’s when we discovered absinthe.

 

Since You write in English, were you good at it?

Yes, but me being me I thought since we’re in an English medium school wasn’t it prerequisite to be an A student in English? No? Ok… But I never thought much of my English until like grade 10 when I’d add a extra A4 3 Quire 288 page hard cover book to my stationery list, which I reserved for writing short stories, scribbles, conversations, bad poetry and the like then when I was done with a piece, I’d give a friend to read – away from me, or I get all weird and nervous, especially when they started crying at the sad parts. That’s when I thought that perhaps I should give this writing thing a go.

Mind you, writing was never on my list of things “to be”- I wanted to be an actuary or a housewife. My dad is an author, so when he used to read my English essays he’d smirk and say “it’s genetic”, I’d vehemently deny ever being one. Guess Bieber was right when he sang “never say never”

 

What are your ambitions for your writing career?

A SALA (South African Literature Award) and some others? *grins*

 

Which writers inspire you and why?

Doris Lessing, I discovered her books when I was thirteen and going through a “diaries/journal of” phase and was bored with the young adults section of the public library, so I went to the adult section and “Diaries of Jane Somers” caught my attention, only to discover it was fiction (doh) but there was something about Jane, Kate (The Summer Before The Dark) and Anna (The Golden Notebook) that intrigued me. As Lisa Allardice put it, “she helped change the way women are perceived and perceive themselves”

My dad, for choosing to write in Sesotho and like during apartheid when many people would be like “why even bother, it’s not like Sesotho books are the best selling”, but he carried on with the same passion and drive.

 

What are you working on at the moment?

I’m ghost-writing a teen novel series, think high school, peer pressure, girls – can’t say much about that yet and my second book, “The Nights I Can’t Remember and The Friends I Won’t Forget” about friendship dynamics, the secrets that keep us together and those that would tear us apart all in good ol’ Jo’burg.

 

Why do you write? Like, what made you sit down and actually start writing?

Apart from being bored at school, I write because there are stories in me that feel the need to be told. That and I always seem to find myself in a situation where people end up confiding in me some interesting tales and incidents that inspire me. Sometimes, I feel there’s a sticker on my forehead that says “I’m here to listen”, sometimes I’m not in the mood to listen and I can’t be rude and be like “uhm, not today” but it’s really like in what the author in Wes Anderson’s “The Grand Budapest Hotel” says “People think the writer’s imagination is always at work, that he’s constantly inventing an endless supply of incidents and episodes; that he simply dreams up his stories out of thin air. In point of fact, the opposite is true. Once the public knows you’re a writer, they bring the characters and events to you. And as long as you maintain your ability to look, and to carefully listen, these stories will continue to…seek you out, uh, over your lifetime. To him, who has often told the tales of others, many tales will be told.”

 

Do you write on typewriter, pc, dictate or by hand?

By hand, and three drafts before I think it’s remotely perfect. Dunno, there’s something cathartic about it but I know I’m due for wrist tendon repair surgery because of this.

 

Where do your ideas come from?

*phew* I guess day-to-day situations? I’d be sitting somewhere and think “wouldn’t it be interesting if…” and if I’m sitting with someone, I’d run the idea by them, so most of my friends think I’m psycho.

Yeah, so, my ideas follow the phrase “wouldn’t it be interesting if?”

 

What is the hardest thing about writing?

Most probably, actually sitting down to write, which is why I’m so glad my tv blew up… but the internet and tumblr, especially tumblr.

 

Do you get writer’s block? How do you get through it?

Yes, I do and when that happens I grab a pen and paper and do some free association writing.

 

Do you read much? If so, who are your favourite authors?

I do. Mostly Doris Lessing, Jean-Paul Sartre. Bret Easton Ellis, Kgebetli Moele. Chuck Palahnuik, Niq Mhlongo, Roald Dahl and Veronique Tadjo

 

Which celebrated person, living or dead, would you like to meet and why?

Doris Lessing, because her books gave me that push to write and Billy Corgan.

 

Favourite book?

The Fifth Child by Doris Lessing

 

Favourite film?

The Royal Tenenbaums by Wes Anderson

The Secret Garden by Agnieszka Holland

 

Favourite song?

1979 – Smashing Pumpkins

 

You can read all her words HERE

Chat with Thabie

Short background about yourself.

I was born on the 15th of January 1994 in Mafikeng (North West), spent my first two years of life in Pretoria. In 1997,     we moved to the City of Roses, Bloemfontein, and I have been living there ever since. I went to Eunice Primary and      High School then successfully matriculated at St. Michael’s School for Girls. 

 

 What were you like at school?

I was a quiet person mostly withdrawn never liked big crowds even though the school I went to, Eunice, was a big    school. I would feel uncomfortable due to the size of the classes. Luckily, in grade 10 I went to a very small Anglican  school St. Michael’s. I was the type to spoke when spoken too and stood firm in what I believed in. 

 

Were you a loner, so to speak?

Yes, I was actually a loner most of the time I preferred being alone. My best friend – since grade two – says that I was reserved and quiet, that I had strong values and views I stood by. She said I could be very silly at times and loved to laugh even when things weren’t so great, a very guarded person,  a fighter that was hopeful about the future.

 

Since you write in English, were you good at it?

At first no, I wasn’t good in English, my Afrikaans was more fluent. Attending English medium schools for 12 years helped me to be more fluent in English, now the tables have turned I am more fluent in English than I am in Afrikaans. I even write better in English than in Afrikaans.

 

Have you written anything in Afrikaans?

No, not really I haven’t written an entire poem or a short story in Afrikaans however, I would add an Afrikaans sentence in a poem or even a stanza but I have never written an entire piece in Afrikaans.

 

What are your ambitions for your writing career?

I would like to use my writing skills and pursue a career in print media.

At the moment I am working towards a diploma in Journalism and hopefully in the near future I will be a journalist specialising in investigative reporting on print media. I would also like to publish an anthology of poems and a novel.

 

So, you write both fiction and non-fiction? Which do you prefer? Why?

I enjoy writing both I have no preference over the other.

 

Which writers inspire you? Why?

My favourite South African authors are:

  • Lebogang Mashile
  • Zakes Mda
  • Professor Pitika Ntuli
  • Malika Ndlovu
  • Phillippa Yaa De Villiers

 Overseas authors I like are:

  • Robin Sharma
  • Erica James
  • Jodi Picoult

The reason I look up to these authors is their excellency in writing and how humble they are especially when they are greatly renounced and well known. At times they inspire the work I do as well.

 

Would you say your writing is similar to theirs?

No, I wouldn’t say that my work is similar to theirs, they just serve as an inspiration to me.

 

What are you working on at the moment?

I am trying to publish my anthology of poems.

I am also trying to complete my qualification in journalism.

 

How much longer ’till you complete your studies?

I have a year left in completing my studies.

 

Why do you write? As in what made you sit down and actually start writing?

The experiences one went through in life. Attending an all girls school for 12 years was never easy, the writing started by jotting down my thoughts and experiences. 

 

What was not easy about attending an all girl’s school?

The difficult part of being in an all girls school are the cliques that are formed over the years which may result to bullying if a certain individual or individuals that don’t “fit in” a specific clique.

Girls in general tend to be offish with each other due to the competitive spirit girls posses that may also lead to bullying.

 

Do you write on typewriter, dictate or by hand?

I prefer old school I depict on hand.

 

Where do your ideas come from?

I get my ideas from life experiences, other peoples experiences and life itself.

 

What is the hardest thing about writing?

The hardest most challenging thing about writing especially as an upcoming is getting recognition for your work; as well as getting people to understand your perspective and not misinterpret the work that one has written.

 

Does that happen a lot, the part where people misinterpret or misunderstand your work? Why do you think that happens?

It does happen that people misinterpret my work especially when it comes to poetry. Poetry consists of metaphors and similies due to that, some consider poetry as vague because it isn’t written in straight forward language; a lot of imagery is used, therefore it is bound that a reader will misinterpret a poem. A primary example can be of Shakespeare’s poetry,for many decades his work has been circulating within schools and tertiary institutions. Students, lecturers and teachers try to interpret Shakespeare’s work as close as possible to its original meaning because it is only Shakespeare that knows what was going on in his head and what exactly inspired him when he was writing those poems and he is the only one who knows the exact meaning behind his poetry.

 

Do you ever get writer’s block? How do you get through it?

I believe that every writer experiences a writers block, the way I overcome a writers block is I just leave my work there incomplete until inspiration hits me again.

 

Do you read much and if so, who are your favorite authors?

I read but I would love to read more and more. Apart from poetry I love reading Novels written by Jodi Picoult, Erica James and Robin Sharma.

 

Favourite books?

  • Tumble Turn by Natalie du Toit
  • Capitalist Nigger by Chika Onyeani
  • The Secret Letters of the Monk Who Sold His Ferrari by Robin Sharma
  • My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult

 

Favourite film?

Dairy of A Mad Black Woman by Tyler Perry

 

Favourite song?

  • Soldier by Erykah Badu
  • Everything is everything by Lauryn Hill

–end–

You can read all of her work  HERE

Chat with Thibz

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Thibz

“Wanting to meet an author because you like his work is like wanting to meet a duck because you like pâté.”

Tell us one thing about yourself
I didn’t grow up, I tumbled up.

What were you like at school?
I was naughty – an attention seeker. A primary school teacher called me a busy body because I had a lot of energy.

Since you write in English, were you good at it?
Yes, it was my strongest subject in high school.

What are your ambitions for your writing career?
I want to be great enough to maintain a following.

Does it matter to you that it comes now or later or like Kafka, posthumously?
Yes it does slightly. I’d prefer it if it happened while I was still alive to witness what my body of work means to people, what right I’ve done and so on, just to know what people like about it. If, however, I manage to publish something, then I feel I have managed to leave something on earth forever. Its how I see it.

Which writer’s inspire you? Why?
I’m inspired by lyricist like Nas and Lupe Fiasco. They are unapologetic about what they find to be worthy or “hip” to talk about at any given time. I like that.

Do you strive to be like that in your writing?

Yes I do. Being unique (or stubborn) in a world of people who are trying to be like each other is refreshing. I don’t want to write like anybody or rather, express myself about a common topic in the same way somebody else does. I want to be that different that I become unpredictable in how I write.

What are you working on at the moment?

Poems About Her : Short stories and Poetry by Thibz

About Her? A specific “her”?
The term “her” is used universally here. I’m writing about women in different types of instances. I’m talking about women that cheat, abused women, independent, beautiful women, high-achieving women and so on. All of these women make up the “her” in my title. I’m honouring women. There’s no life/living without them.

Why do you write? Like, what made you sit down and actually start writing?

A feeling made me sit down and try it out. Then someone said I was pretty good.

And what was this feeling?
I don’t really understand it but I recognize it when I feel it. It nags me to write something, anything, down. It may even develop into guilt if I don’t act on it, telling me I’m wasting an opportunity to jot something unique, honest or special down. The feeling may even be passion. I don’t fully know yet.

Do you write on typewriter, pc, dictate or by hand?
By hand

Why? Is there like a special thing that happens when you write by hand that doesn’t happen when you use the other methods?
I don’t trust technology, first of all! I feel like adding a pc or laptop between myself and my writing is like an extra hurdle to overcome on top of the difficulties I already face when I write something down. I’m trying to be as close to the writing process as possible, and any instrument that’s more fussy than a pen and paper is really an intrusion. Haha. I haven’t tried a type writer yet.

Where do your ideas come from?

Emotion mostly but images from the books I read, movies and the pictures painted by lyricists in music.

What is the hardest thing about writing?

Explaining exactly what I feel.

How come?
I want the reader to feel what you felt when I was writing the poem or short story down. Its almost as if I want to put the reader within my heart and make them understand, with my descriptions, what it is I’m going through, beat by beat. If people comment on my imagery or the intensity of my words for example, then I feel like I’ve succeeded. I want you to feel what I feel. That’s the whole point, to take you with me through what I feel.

Do you ever get writer’s block? How do you get through it?

Yes I do. I just walk away from the piece completely. Come back to it some other time.

Do you read much and if so, who are your favourite authors?
Not enough. Lee Child. I like thrillers.

Which celebrated person, living or dead, would you like to meet and why?

I would like to meet somebody menacing or notorious such as Hitler, Joseph Kony or Al Capone to try and understand their train of thought or to try and understand at what point did they decide that it was okay for them to do what they did. I would do my best to enter their psychosis to see what they see and hear the story from their side. The things we know and can explain are all well but to truly expand our knowledge of the world we need to go to uncomfortable places.

Favourite book?
Tale of Two Cities, still. *laughs*

A Tale of Two Cities? Why?

Honestly speaking, the first time I read A tale if two cities I was in awe of how Dickens brought the coincidences or consequences of the characters to a full circle much later in the book. He made it possible understand how the world can be a small place indeed. I found it genius. The character Sydney Carton was my favourite. He had flaws that dragged him down but was intelligent and selfless. His sacrifice out love for a woman was something I didn’t see coming, amongst other great surprises in the book.

Favourite film?
I can’t remember. Any movie that shifts me conceptually and emotionally gets my vote. Anything from “Be kind, rewind” to Seven Pounds.

Favourite song?

“…I’m thinking ’bout plotting a scheme Ma plotting a scheme!”

—end—

You can read all of his work HERE

… And Then I Kissed Her (II)

...and then I kissed her (ii)read part one here

“You disappeared, ” her voice quivered. “You fucking disappeared and left me to deal with everything again.”

By everything she was referring to the fact that I left without a trace during a surprise birthday party she threw for me on the eve of our trip to Prague. See, the problem with recurrent depression – coupled a reputation for being compulsive – notably when you’re self-medicating and the meds are of the recreational kind, is that it creeps up on you at the worst time ever and soon enough you’re plummeting into an abysmal despair, emotionally overwhelmed and panicked, wondering about permanence, commitment and expectations after our bohemian getaway. The commitment part triggered things and I never really figured out why I was even entertaining these thoughts when the last thing I ever wanted was for it to end up blowing up in our faces like with my parents. So, I grabbed a bottle of whisky and started walking, first to Jack Friedman’s then somehow I ended up at a facility in Kenilworth and was released seven months later. By the time I was back in Jo’burg, I figured it was too late to say anything until I heard she would be attending Dev’s thing in Parkhurst – nothing like the post irony of ‘we last saw each other at a party, a year later we meet at one’.

“Then you rock up in Zee’s car to Dev’s party,” she continued. “I mean you don’t even like Dev for fuck’s sake! Let alone Amu,” she scoffed, “then you’re all giggly with that 12 year old but you scare off the only guy I’ve been really into since you.” She turned her back to me.

“You should have seen your face though, in the car? Composure’s always been your best quality, well until your episode last night.” I chuckled as I walked out onto the balcony.

“You deserve worse.” She killed the cigarette in a little china pot she kept in the corner and stood with her back to me, facing the view. A sliver of orange light broke the the blue-black horizon, I always cherished that moment just before dawn, I felt that I could be honest with myself. I stepped towards her and stroked her arm. She shivered.

“Babe, I’m sorry.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I mean don’t go now apologise if you’re going to keep doing the things you’re sorry for,” she was jaded. It was the longest time I had an episode – as she would say.

“I know,” I pulled her towards me and  wrapped my arms around her, she tried pushing away but I held tight. “But I’m here now.”

“Why don’t you let me in?”

“I missed you.”

“Prague was amazing.”

“Sometimes you have to grow apart to have new stories to learn, to share. That’s why I miss you exists.”

“But it’s still messed up, this… Last night.” She pulled out the embrace and moved to the weathered wicker chair that was once her grandmother’s. Magnet’s “Lay Lady Lay’ came on as I sat next to her.

“I’m really sorry though,” I started. What she had known as my affinity for compulsive activities and wayfaring was in fact a mask for the insufferable unipolar depression I had always been afraid of telling her all these years. I need that time to “get over [my] fucking self” as Amu had yelled when she and I got kicked out of the party because I cock-blocked her and she flipped, hard. She stormed over and told me how much she hated me, I laughed and told her that for her to hate me so much she just have loved me equally at one point, that’s when it turned into a scene.

Her eyes filled up as she listened to my concession. A tear rolled down her right cheek. I wiped it and she cupped my hand against her face then kissed my palm.”I don’t hate you.” She looked straight into my eyes and let out a soft sigh.

“I know.”

“I just hate what you put me through.” She leaned closer.

“Marry me.”

Destitute Illusions

Him: Are you hungry?
Her: No, I had something to eat. So go ahead, I’ll just have a smoke.

Him: Should you be smoking after what happened?
Her: No, but I’ve been doing so anyway. This is funny.

Him: What is?
Her:  This whole situation, you know…

Him: No I don’t, tell me.
Her: This whole thing where you are my knight in shining armour, the whole hero thing.

Him: It’s not like you’re in any state to take care of yourself, you know.
Her: No… You’re right. It’s pathetically adorable and what’s worse is you still keep trying. I have one thing for you; you might as well direct your feelings to a brick wall.

Him:  OK, I’m gonna fix myself a drink.
Her: Sure, get me one too.

Him:  OK
Her:  Anyway, why do you keep coming here?

Him:  Because I worry about you.
Her:  That was rhetorical, by the way. You’re like a doormat.

Him:  A what?
Her:  A doormat. You’re always there, ready to take the dirt of my shoes and because all you do is just lie there, I think of more and more ways to get dirt on my feet so I can watch you take it all in.

Him:  I guess I came at the right ti –
Her:  – and what kills me is the fact that you never have anything to say when I tell you stuff like that, so you do this whole silent thing – which I can imagine is you feeling hurt and you don’t have the guts to tell me I’m being insensitive.

Him:  You certainly are in a good mood.
Her:  Then again I take it that when you’re in love or care for someone you’re ready to take their shit, am I right?

Him:  You really need to get out.

 06/08/2007

Lead Me Into The Night

Her:  Ok, so like I don’t know the words to that song! I just rhubarb-and-watermeloned my way through it just so I can talk to you.
Him:  Really? Me too.

Her:  What? That’s so weird, hey. Who would’ve thought!
Him:  Yeah.

Her:  So what happens now?
Him:  I guess we can go sit outside and chat, swap numbers, that kinda thing. What can I get you to drink?

Her:  Vodka tonic, double.
Him:  Serious?

Her: Ok, make it a beer then.
Him:  Cool, anyway, I’m [HIM].

Her:  Nice to meet you. I’m [HER].
Him:  Cool. My number’s [-].

Her:  Great! How do you spell your name?
Him:  [H-I-M], what’s yours?

Her:  [-] Aw man! Fuck! My battery just died.
Him:  Cool, gonna buzz you now.

Her:  What? Don’t you believe me?
Him:  Dude, it says “the number you have dialled is not available”

Her:  That’s because my battery died, when I saved your number.
Him:  Yo, if you’re gonna blow me off, just be straight about it. Don’t give me some stupid number.

Her:  For crying out loud! My battery died, see.
Him:  Ow! Why’d you slap me for?!

Her:  You idiot! Do you seriously think I’d dance and sing my way through a Black Eyed Peas song just to give you a wrong number?
Him:  Yes!

Her:  Whatever. You can keep the beer.
Him:  Ok, wait. Let’s try it this way.

Her:  What now?
Him:  Can I kiss you already?

 

26/08/2010