Listowel Writers' Week Fringe

Blogging Listowel's Literary Scene
Subscribe

Archive for April, 2010

“A view from Kerry” blog

April 14, 2010 By: Paul O'Mahony Category: 2010, connections

Great to find “A View From Kerry“. There is a lovely provocative piece called “Listowel Writers Wrong” here.

Do you expect the Festival to present itself as if it was professionally run? Or do you find it charming when the spelling is wrong? Does it make a difference that the Festival is organised by volunteers? Or would it be better to expect volunteers to get it right?

You can even follow the publisher on Twitter @kerryview

Behind the scenes on LWW Fringe blog

April 14, 2010 By: Paul O'Mahony Category: 2010, starting up

Spam… the bugbear… we have a heap of spam comments piled up. It would be great to delete them all.

Because this is a labour of love (something from which we earn no income) it’s not easy to sort this problem.

The Festival is coming. It will be on us before we know it. It was about this time last year when we launched the blog. I hope we’ll publish a steam of posts before #LWW10 kicks off on 2 June.

Would you like to contribute content?
The Festival has so many aspects to it… We’ll publish all sorts of stuff around Listowel Writers’ Week. The people who go to Listowel for the workshops, literary events and publife have many interests.

This blog is here to pay honour to the wonderful tradition of the Festival. This is, after all, the 40th year. Get in touch with a comment. We’ll be reading them all, and responding.

Michelin Guide on Listowel Writers’ Week

April 14, 2010 By: Paul O'Mahony Category: 2010, connections, events

Michelin Guide says Listowel & North Kerry has a fine literary reputation… (a short piece)

There is a list of 14 places recommended…

“Listowel Hangover” – poem by Pauline Fayne

April 02, 2010 By: Paul O'Mahony Category: creative writing, historical, poem, poems, poet

Listowel hangover.

“There‚Äôs a dog with hairs to spare
above in Keanes “

says Minnesota Larry -
but I take myself and my headache
to the blessed theatre of St John,
into an unexpected overture
of music that would sunder rocks
and cement mixer sound effects
from a man with the voice of twenty,
then quickstep through
a skull soothing downpour
to a place of storytellers
where Portlaoise Pats words
lift the caul of pain,
carry me to a moonlit Baggot Street
to glimpse again an old friends
Guinness dark eyes
and courtly bow.


Creative Commons License
This work by various authors is licensed under a Creative Commons License.