“You Must Be Glad Pavarotti’s Dead”

I was stunned. “What?”
“You must be so glad Pavarotti’s dead”, he repeated.
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s obvious you don’t like him,” my friend said.
“Oh, I see …”

One of my stories in 44 Cemetery Road is “A Labour Day Weekend”. It’s about two friends who head off to Melaka and they bring home something quite disturbing …

In the story I wrote:

“… I chose the best time to ask her which was after our girls had gone to bed and she was enjoying her nightly cup of Camomile tea listening to Pavarotti. I sat quietly, pretending to enjoy the opera singer’s pompous bellowing … “

My friend thus concluded that I disliked the Luciano Pavarotti who died in September 2007. Although not my favourite opera singer, I certainly enjoy his singing and I do not dislike him or his voice. And I was definitely NOT glad that the great opera singer is dead.

“So why did you write that?” asked my friend.

And here’s the main point: A character’s views and ideas are not necessarily the same as the author’s.

These views can include all kinds of things: general attitudes, politics, tastes in music, favourite foods, favourite books, religion, prejudice etc etc.

An author creates characters to populate the story. Some are minor, some are major characters. The characters need to have their own characteristics. Some shared by the author, some not. So just because a character holds a certain point of view doesn’t mean that viewpoint is shared by the author. In many cases, it might be the exact opposite!

One good exercise I reckon is to write about a character that is totally opposite from yourself. This necessarily means you’ll have to know about your own self, your tastes, your thoughts, your motivations, your prejudices – your internal life.

That’s a hard one. Do you really know yourself?

Dangers of Australian Life

My wife heard a thud around 4am. She lay in bed for awhile and then heard a scuffling noise. Thinking that it was perhaps our 7 year-old son attending to his Star Wars toys far too early, she slipped out into the lounge. Instead of our son, watching her from the corner of the room, trembling in fright, was a furry brush-tail possum!

Her first thought was how did the marsupial get in? All the doors and windows were shut. Then she realised that the thud she heard was the possum falling down the chimney. After getting over her initial shock, she opened the front door hoping that the creature would make a hurried exit for freedom. Instead it fled to the lower ground floor to the Art room. My wife followed it and quickly slid open the terrace door, again hoping the possum would leave. No way. It shot up the stairs again back into the lounge and then decided to climb the bookcase. Perhaps it had an interest in Dostoevsky, Carey or Stoker or perhaps the volumes of fairy tales I had just purchased. Or maybe it wanted to read poetry or a cookery book. Then, still clinging to the shelves, the creature proceeded to deposit a few droppings. These fell rather too close to a row of books by one Tunku Halim. Perhaps it was just letting its feelings known on my writing, for the possum then fled downstairs again and leapt out through the terrace door.

You’re not scared of me, are you?

I wonder what would have happened if we were on holidays or visiting Malaysia? Furniture all torn and bitten to shreds. Droppings and urine everywhere. Dead possum lying in our bed, starved to death. The thought gives me the shivers.

These are the dangers of Australian (wild) life. The snakes are poisonous. Some spiders deadly. The possums all too curious.

My wife thought the marsupial was rather cute though.

Where was I when all this was happening? I was in bed, fast asleep!

Hawker Man pays a visit

I was somewhat flattered that Chua Kok Yee (author of News from Home) was sufficiently inspired by my story “Hawker Man” to come up with an illustration for it.

As you can see, it’s wonderfully menacing … I love the broken metal mesh poking from his face, and his eager hands reaching for you!

“Hawker Man” is a story I contributed to Dark City 2, an anthology of twisted tales compiled by Xeus. It’s story about a sales assistant wandering alone in a shopping centre just after the place as closed. It’s the first story I finished after several years of not completing any fiction. So, for me, reaching the end was a triumph. Since then I’ve written several more (they’re in 44 Cemetery Road and Gravedigger’s Kiss).

Chua Kok Yee’s a talented guy. He also contributed to Dark City 2. His tale, “The Penalty” is strikingly good and a must read. Gambling addiction is all too real and, in this case, the retribution from the Ah Long is a hard hitting penalty for the protagonist. I was gripped ’til the horrific end!

Thanks Kok Yee for the scary picture. I’d be quite something to see my story together with the illustration published in a magazine or newspaper . Any takers out there?

Secrets of The Old House

I’ve just finished reading The Old House & Other Stories by Chuah Guat Eng. I bought my copy personally from the author at “Readings” organised by Sharon Bakar. The author was kind enough to autograph a copy for my two children. I always do that. When my kids are grown up I can pass them the books – which they’ll have to share!

Chuah’s book is a volume that’s hard to put down. It’s not because the plots are particularly gripping, although some of them are (as in “The Old House” and “Two Pretty Men”). Nor is it because of the spectrum of varied tales. Rather, it’s in the spell-binding yet often deceptively simple use of language, the almost conspiratorial narration so that the reader feels that the author is beside her, whispering secrets into her ear. I felt most privileged to be admitted into Chuah’s world, where even the trivial everydayness seems to hold hidden meaning.

Chuah creates wonderful characters. That is part of her secret. Her characters live and breathe, and all of them are quintessentially Malaysian. William Wan, Aunty Bongsu and No-brain Noneh are but some of them. Once we’ve met her characters, we are compelled to know what happens next.

There are nine short stories here. I found the best ones loaded at the front of the book: “The Power of Advertising”, “The Day Andy Warhol Died” and “The Old House” were my favourites. Interestingly, all of those were written in the first person. “The Old House” in particular is a wonderful ghost story and I couldn’t have done better.

These are stories which capture Malaysian life. Not vampire-filled tales or pretentious self-indulgent writings, but stories to be simply enjoyed for what they are. Stories written to be shared.