Dawn arrived with it's usual scenes of moody mountains mixed with red skies and rolling mist in the valleys, as I stood at the top of the drive at 6.45 early on the Wednesday morning almost halfway through the wonderful Arvon writers course in the Highlands of Scotland I looked across the valleys and then to our abode for the week Moniack and sighed a wistful sigh. This was indeed the most peaceful of times I had known in many years, free from phone calls, questions and interruptions, it was truly a pivotal point in my life but as yet I still did not know that fact.
The view across the valley below Moniack Mhor
I took pictures as I stood there of the wonderful still landscape and my eyes couldn't avert from the smoke that drifted out of the chimney of Moniack from the wood burner I had just that few minutes ago brought to life, it was almost hypnotic as it was the only thing stirring in the whole of the valley apart from the rolling mists far below. Quite a wonderful sight and experience.
I walked slowly towards the cottage feeling very content and very much at peace with all around me, something I guess the Arvon courses instill in their students or at least help them to achieve. I opened the kitchen door and Chris was there at the kitchen table eating his morning toast and drinking tea which he always did first thing, I as usual headed straight for the coffee pot as without that first brew I am just a mere shadow of my usual self, I think my coffee fixation is a tad worrying but i guess there are worse habits to have!. I asked Chris how he had got on,
"Oh Ok I guess I am a bit sort of bogged down by some of it but it's coming along"
"Great" says I " I have finished mine ages ago, stayed up and finished it off, only took me a couple of hours".
Yet again the "confident Mr James" popped his head around the corner, but in reality his days were very soon to be numbered!.
Soon we had a full bustling kitchen with everyone laughing, talking, joking and generally feeling the buzz that this course gives you from day one. Magis and I were as usual teasing each other and Hannah was as always her bubbly self while leaning out of the far kitchen door smoking a fag, soon she was joined by Chris and they were soon sat outside in deep conversation putting the world and their writing through the spotlight.
It suddenly dawned that tonight was my turn on the cooking roster, along with my buddy Chris, Olivia and Heidi who was one of the courses oldest students but scarcely looked half her 67 years, whatever that Swiss air is like I think they should bottle it and export it as it obviously does wonders for youthful looks!.
Gazing at the menu and description we were making a Dahl with rice and I for one saw no meat on the recipe so instantly we had to have a vote, the vote was carried and chicken breasts were duly sent out for to appease the meat eating contingent of which we numbered 100%...which was handy!.
10 a.m came very quickly and we sat down around the huge dining table with John Aberdein our second tutor, with baited breath, John was every inch the Highlander with a greying beard and tall as a block of flats a very strong built man yet his voice was the stuff of voice over directors dreams. He spoke slowly but always meaningfully and was great at interacting with the rest of us. John's way of getting his point across was very much different to Morag's but no less as effective. He made us think very much for ourselves and led us to the point he was making, where as Morag spelled it out straight away and then explained the meaning behind it, both ways working very well and in fact complimenting each other as it kept the lesson time fresh and lively throughout the week. John's lesson was very much about the content of what goes into a story and covered many things that the prospective writer needs to know before contemplating putting pen to paper, or at least what you should know if you want to make your story something that someone else would want to read. John's easy manner almost belied the amount we had learned such was the relaxed way we spoke and discussed the merits of word counts and impact, shock, horror etc on your story and in no time at all 12.30 had arrived and it was lunch time.
Having made a cup of coffee in the kitchen and grabbed a bite to eat (pizza, quiche and salad with pate) scrumptious as usual i settled down to read my previous night's work while munching away. This was a turning point on the course.
I read my work through again. Then again. Then again...oh dear thought I almost straight away, oh dear oh dear. In the cold light of day I read the work I had so confidently written the night before and it was everything it was NOT supposed to be, it was filled with cliche's and was completely self-indulgent, in fact nowhere near the quality that "confident me" had assured the less than impressed "writer me".
I tried in vain to alter what was on the page but alas 3pm was upon me and it was time to go see Morag and show her what my entire 24 hours had been taken up with since we last spoke. I knocked on the door and walked in and there was Morag sat smiling. I handed her my work like a schoolboy would hand over 18 pages of lines when he was supposed to have done 25 and waited for the fall-out.
When it came it was as straight as it was curt but above all it was also fair. She ripped me to pieces and spat me out on the floor and it was all deserved. I had let my cocky self-assured behaviour get the better of me instead of listening and learning and with every sentence she peeled back the layers of comfort I had hidden behind for all these years and threw them straight in the trash. She apologised once more that it was a little harsh but that it needed saying and I agreed with her all along the way.
"You are actually quite an intelligent man" she said making my sheer lack of effort with my homework seem even worse than i thought it already was,
"I know, I just need to have the confidence to write for me instead of an audience" I coyly said still reeling from the fact that my lack of imaginative work would be my downfall if I wasn't careful.
Morag was as usual absolutely right, she had listened to me talking to the other students about the fact that I had taken only 2 hours to 'perfect' my work until today's meeting and she wasn't going to accept second best, I hadn't put enough thought or effort into the work and I needed to get off that band wagon of soft wishy washy poetry and get my head back around what writing actually meant to me.
I was excused and walked down the stairs with a spring in my step. I knew what she was saying was right and I loved every second of "The confident Mr James" getting his butt firmly kicked into reality. I couldn't be happier. Here is what Morag read and you will see hwy she stated the obvious:
Here amongst the veiled landscapes,
Stairways rise to heaven's gates
Mother Earth's own hump back herd
Inspired from centuries shifting plates
This land of king's an inspiration
beats a heart it calls it's own,
A cauldron spawned from God's creation
Nowhere else could I call home.
Rightly so I was chastised for writing such verse. The cliche's are in there all over the place and a lot of the last few lines make little sense. This is why I came on this course. This was my time to sit and listen to people who knew how to get the best out of the written word that i so considered a friend of mine. I went away so happy yet almost frightened that now it was in my hand's to turn the bad habits I had formed into something meaningful.
I had little time to dwell about that afternoon's eye opening meeting as it was getting towards 4 pm and in my eyes time to start dinner which was due at 7pm. I went into the kitchen and poured 6 tins of tomatoes into a huge dish with seasoning, mild curry powder and herbs and spices, then grabbed another dish and chopped up 6 onions while adding half a bar of butter and stirring it all up, very enjoyable, though my fellow cookers that night Chris, Olivia and Heidi were a little surprised I had started so early !. None the less i continued and eventually all 3 joined me in the kitchen. Very soon Olivia took charge of the curry while myself and Chris were relegated to him cleaning the pots and pans and myself concocting side dishes and the fruit salad with raspberry sorbet that would follow for dessert.
All was going very well....very well...until the rice. Now if you are from a Swiss/Japanese background and you come across another Asian female cook in the kitchen that is cooking rice, then trust me, I have seen it with my own two eyes there is going to be trouble. This night was to be no exception. Poor Heidi the Swiss born quiet one of the bunch suddenly turned miniature Rottweiler and the until now so timid Olivia was standing her ground like a Lion protects his pride. It was an immediate battle of culture versus will and it was by far the funniest thing I had seen in ages, much to the frustration of my two fellow cooks. Chris was looking up now and then and we would cross paths with our eyes and do a knowing nod and smile as we watched the two ladies of our team tear into one another about the correct manner to cook rice, this was further confounded when Chris measured out about 4 kilos of rice for the pot which in hindsight would have been enough to feed a small village for a month, all this just made it even funnier and my stifled giggles became a full belly laugh when housekeeper Malcolm walked in to help clear away some of the items we were no longer using and held up the previously huge bag of 8 kilos of rice and his look of horror to see over half of it had disappeared into tonight's menu. I couldn't help myself, it was a free for all and I just kept on and on pulling our two chef's legs until rather soberingly Olivia said quietly " Dave I think I have burnt the Dahl, can you give Magis a shout?.
With that I slipped quietly out of the kitchen and went to Magis's room and tapped softly on the door,
"just a minute!" I heard her cry,
The door opened and Magis immediately smiled "hello Dave what can i do for you ?"
"Magis we have a small problem, Olivia may have burnt the Dahl and there is panic in the kitchen, would you pop and have a quick look for me?"
"No problem Dave lead the way we will soon get this sorted" Magis immediately quipped.
With that this angel of the kitchen and my adopted mother (I had informed her) swept across the floor of the kitchen in a single bound, took control of the burnt bits and captured the rice before it disappeared down the hell that is burnt offerings to a room full of scholars, in reality that woman was only short of a cape and some Lycra with a huge red 'S' on her chest that night, she saved the meal and we subsequently dined like kings that night, I will never forget how she just calmed everyone down and got on with the job, what a fantastic woman, as I said she is now my second mum and she will have trouble getting rid of me !.
During all this time i had continued my trek into the unknown with the fruit salad and it was ready to go at just the right time, i was very proud of my side dish and fruit salad and took it as a compliment that it was all gone at the end of the night. The food was definitely a highlight at Moniack and yet again a very clever way of getting us all working as a team. I for one had the time of my life in that kitchen and will never forget the experience and I hope those who were there will remember it as a wonderful time also.
The food was very well received and we all enjoyed the meal, the thanks and cheers as always were very demonstrative and very well received. After we had eaten we were introduced to a new member of our little gang for the night, he was Jonathon Farra, the well respected author and he was to be our guest speaker for the week, the night was still so very young, yet we didn't realise it....
......to be continued..
I took pictures as I stood there of the wonderful still landscape and my eyes couldn't avert from the smoke that drifted out of the chimney of Moniack from the wood burner I had just that few minutes ago brought to life, it was almost hypnotic as it was the only thing stirring in the whole of the valley apart from the rolling mists far below. Quite a wonderful sight and experience.
I walked slowly towards the cottage feeling very content and very much at peace with all around me, something I guess the Arvon courses instill in their students or at least help them to achieve. I opened the kitchen door and Chris was there at the kitchen table eating his morning toast and drinking tea which he always did first thing, I as usual headed straight for the coffee pot as without that first brew I am just a mere shadow of my usual self, I think my coffee fixation is a tad worrying but i guess there are worse habits to have!. I asked Chris how he had got on,
"Oh Ok I guess I am a bit sort of bogged down by some of it but it's coming along"
"Great" says I " I have finished mine ages ago, stayed up and finished it off, only took me a couple of hours".
Yet again the "confident Mr James" popped his head around the corner, but in reality his days were very soon to be numbered!.
Soon we had a full bustling kitchen with everyone laughing, talking, joking and generally feeling the buzz that this course gives you from day one. Magis and I were as usual teasing each other and Hannah was as always her bubbly self while leaning out of the far kitchen door smoking a fag, soon she was joined by Chris and they were soon sat outside in deep conversation putting the world and their writing through the spotlight.
It suddenly dawned that tonight was my turn on the cooking roster, along with my buddy Chris, Olivia and Heidi who was one of the courses oldest students but scarcely looked half her 67 years, whatever that Swiss air is like I think they should bottle it and export it as it obviously does wonders for youthful looks!.
Gazing at the menu and description we were making a Dahl with rice and I for one saw no meat on the recipe so instantly we had to have a vote, the vote was carried and chicken breasts were duly sent out for to appease the meat eating contingent of which we numbered 100%...which was handy!.
10 a.m came very quickly and we sat down around the huge dining table with John Aberdein our second tutor, with baited breath, John was every inch the Highlander with a greying beard and tall as a block of flats a very strong built man yet his voice was the stuff of voice over directors dreams. He spoke slowly but always meaningfully and was great at interacting with the rest of us. John's way of getting his point across was very much different to Morag's but no less as effective. He made us think very much for ourselves and led us to the point he was making, where as Morag spelled it out straight away and then explained the meaning behind it, both ways working very well and in fact complimenting each other as it kept the lesson time fresh and lively throughout the week. John's lesson was very much about the content of what goes into a story and covered many things that the prospective writer needs to know before contemplating putting pen to paper, or at least what you should know if you want to make your story something that someone else would want to read. John's easy manner almost belied the amount we had learned such was the relaxed way we spoke and discussed the merits of word counts and impact, shock, horror etc on your story and in no time at all 12.30 had arrived and it was lunch time.
Having made a cup of coffee in the kitchen and grabbed a bite to eat (pizza, quiche and salad with pate) scrumptious as usual i settled down to read my previous night's work while munching away. This was a turning point on the course.
I read my work through again. Then again. Then again...oh dear thought I almost straight away, oh dear oh dear. In the cold light of day I read the work I had so confidently written the night before and it was everything it was NOT supposed to be, it was filled with cliche's and was completely self-indulgent, in fact nowhere near the quality that "confident me" had assured the less than impressed "writer me".
I tried in vain to alter what was on the page but alas 3pm was upon me and it was time to go see Morag and show her what my entire 24 hours had been taken up with since we last spoke. I knocked on the door and walked in and there was Morag sat smiling. I handed her my work like a schoolboy would hand over 18 pages of lines when he was supposed to have done 25 and waited for the fall-out.
When it came it was as straight as it was curt but above all it was also fair. She ripped me to pieces and spat me out on the floor and it was all deserved. I had let my cocky self-assured behaviour get the better of me instead of listening and learning and with every sentence she peeled back the layers of comfort I had hidden behind for all these years and threw them straight in the trash. She apologised once more that it was a little harsh but that it needed saying and I agreed with her all along the way.
"You are actually quite an intelligent man" she said making my sheer lack of effort with my homework seem even worse than i thought it already was,
"I know, I just need to have the confidence to write for me instead of an audience" I coyly said still reeling from the fact that my lack of imaginative work would be my downfall if I wasn't careful.
Morag was as usual absolutely right, she had listened to me talking to the other students about the fact that I had taken only 2 hours to 'perfect' my work until today's meeting and she wasn't going to accept second best, I hadn't put enough thought or effort into the work and I needed to get off that band wagon of soft wishy washy poetry and get my head back around what writing actually meant to me.
I was excused and walked down the stairs with a spring in my step. I knew what she was saying was right and I loved every second of "The confident Mr James" getting his butt firmly kicked into reality. I couldn't be happier. Here is what Morag read and you will see hwy she stated the obvious:
Here amongst the veiled landscapes,
Stairways rise to heaven's gates
Mother Earth's own hump back herd
Inspired from centuries shifting plates
This land of king's an inspiration
beats a heart it calls it's own,
A cauldron spawned from God's creation
Nowhere else could I call home.
Rightly so I was chastised for writing such verse. The cliche's are in there all over the place and a lot of the last few lines make little sense. This is why I came on this course. This was my time to sit and listen to people who knew how to get the best out of the written word that i so considered a friend of mine. I went away so happy yet almost frightened that now it was in my hand's to turn the bad habits I had formed into something meaningful.
I had little time to dwell about that afternoon's eye opening meeting as it was getting towards 4 pm and in my eyes time to start dinner which was due at 7pm. I went into the kitchen and poured 6 tins of tomatoes into a huge dish with seasoning, mild curry powder and herbs and spices, then grabbed another dish and chopped up 6 onions while adding half a bar of butter and stirring it all up, very enjoyable, though my fellow cookers that night Chris, Olivia and Heidi were a little surprised I had started so early !. None the less i continued and eventually all 3 joined me in the kitchen. Very soon Olivia took charge of the curry while myself and Chris were relegated to him cleaning the pots and pans and myself concocting side dishes and the fruit salad with raspberry sorbet that would follow for dessert.
All was going very well....very well...until the rice. Now if you are from a Swiss/Japanese background and you come across another Asian female cook in the kitchen that is cooking rice, then trust me, I have seen it with my own two eyes there is going to be trouble. This night was to be no exception. Poor Heidi the Swiss born quiet one of the bunch suddenly turned miniature Rottweiler and the until now so timid Olivia was standing her ground like a Lion protects his pride. It was an immediate battle of culture versus will and it was by far the funniest thing I had seen in ages, much to the frustration of my two fellow cooks. Chris was looking up now and then and we would cross paths with our eyes and do a knowing nod and smile as we watched the two ladies of our team tear into one another about the correct manner to cook rice, this was further confounded when Chris measured out about 4 kilos of rice for the pot which in hindsight would have been enough to feed a small village for a month, all this just made it even funnier and my stifled giggles became a full belly laugh when housekeeper Malcolm walked in to help clear away some of the items we were no longer using and held up the previously huge bag of 8 kilos of rice and his look of horror to see over half of it had disappeared into tonight's menu. I couldn't help myself, it was a free for all and I just kept on and on pulling our two chef's legs until rather soberingly Olivia said quietly " Dave I think I have burnt the Dahl, can you give Magis a shout?.
With that I slipped quietly out of the kitchen and went to Magis's room and tapped softly on the door,
"just a minute!" I heard her cry,
The door opened and Magis immediately smiled "hello Dave what can i do for you ?"
"Magis we have a small problem, Olivia may have burnt the Dahl and there is panic in the kitchen, would you pop and have a quick look for me?"
"No problem Dave lead the way we will soon get this sorted" Magis immediately quipped.
With that this angel of the kitchen and my adopted mother (I had informed her) swept across the floor of the kitchen in a single bound, took control of the burnt bits and captured the rice before it disappeared down the hell that is burnt offerings to a room full of scholars, in reality that woman was only short of a cape and some Lycra with a huge red 'S' on her chest that night, she saved the meal and we subsequently dined like kings that night, I will never forget how she just calmed everyone down and got on with the job, what a fantastic woman, as I said she is now my second mum and she will have trouble getting rid of me !.
During all this time i had continued my trek into the unknown with the fruit salad and it was ready to go at just the right time, i was very proud of my side dish and fruit salad and took it as a compliment that it was all gone at the end of the night. The food was definitely a highlight at Moniack and yet again a very clever way of getting us all working as a team. I for one had the time of my life in that kitchen and will never forget the experience and I hope those who were there will remember it as a wonderful time also.
The food was very well received and we all enjoyed the meal, the thanks and cheers as always were very demonstrative and very well received. After we had eaten we were introduced to a new member of our little gang for the night, he was Jonathon Farra, the well respected author and he was to be our guest speaker for the week, the night was still so very young, yet we didn't realise it....
......to be continued..
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