At our interactive talk and Q&A!
Thursday 20 April, 1-2pm
£5 (free to bursary students)
Zoom
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TO BOOK YOUR PLACE: contact@writingroom.org.uk
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With the pressures on commercial publishing, and with the availability of affordable digital printing, along with so many social channels / marketplaces on hand, more writers than ever are choosing to self publish. They keep authorial control and get their book out quickly.
Tatiana Strauss signs copies of Blue Speedwell at Owl Bookshops (Daunt Books) Kentish Town, London.
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Meet author Tatiana Strauss. This experimental literary writer, who has an MA in Creative Writing from UEA, decided she didn’t want to have to dance with agents and editors to get her book out. She wanted it looking and reading just as she had carefully crafted it.
Cover photograph by Maria Matheou
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At this interactive talk and Q&A Tatiana will read from her incredible book Blue Speedwell and tell us how she went about self publishing her trilogy.
This is the perfect talk for anyone who has ever wondered about bringing out their own book. Come with your questions and enjoy an hour in the company of the lovely Tatiana Strauss. She may inspire you to great things!
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TO BOOK YOUR PLACE: contact@writingroom.org.uk
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Extract from Blue Speedwell by Tatiana Strauss
He was waiting for me down on the street, all lounging against his bike, which itself leaned up on its sturdy metal stand, the two at an angle more acute than seemed possible, for sure like the triangle they formed ought to collapse. The hot sun shined his dark shaggy hair a reddish tinge, made an aura around his head–whilst beyond him, all sort of growing out of the light around him, was the square, its central garden and abundant flora crowned by the skyward branches of the vast London plane trees.
His attention was full-on into the paperback resting in his hand, and I felt the pull, my face all burning up in a kind of dumb protest. Those yellowed pages were a part of me; they were mine; they were my musty whiff, my ache, my pleasure. Shhh! The faded orange spine was all broken, had that floppy way of staying open, and I was trying not to wait for it to fall to bits at any moment. It still blew my head off– though of course it had to be, see–that of all the books he might have chosen from my sagging shelves, this was the one he’d gone for.
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TO BOOK YOUR PLACE: contact@writingroom.org.uk