literary

STOP PRESS: Ivy Ngeow wins 2016 International Proverse Prize (FIRST PRIZE)

prize

I am thrilled my first novel Cry of the Flying Rhino has won this prestigious international literary prize for an unpublished full-length work of prose fiction.

Winning the 2016 Proverse Prize is important in promoting excellence in literature and the love of and for books, across all boundaries of race, country, creed. International writing is still at the heart of postcolonial literature, which as a Commonwealth writer, I am proud to represent. Results were announced in the spring reception in Hong Kong on the evening of Thursday 27 April 2017. Cry  (89,119 words)  will be published in November in Hong Kong this year. I will travel there to receive the prize, to meet the judges, the publishers, readers, writers, guests, the organisers and finally, my book

 

I entered the competition on 19 May 2016 before I even wrote to Unbound regarding Heart of Glass. It is a cash prize of 10K HK dollars (look it up, pound has gone down) and publication of the book. Having written for some 40 years with so much blood, sweat and tears (cliche, sorry, yes I know, but how else to put it?), indeed I am crying and my skin is thick as a rhino’s. I have managed to get not just one book out, but both, this year. Although it seems like a coincidence, it is not. I only started submitting my work with any seriousness last year and despite everything,

I carried on like some kind of bumper sticker. (“If life gives you lemons” etc). Rejection after rejection (the holy grail of all writers) and eventually acceptance.

About the book: Cry of the Flying Rhino, told from multiple viewpoints and in multiple voices, is set in 1996 in Malaysia and Borneo. Malaysian Chinese GP Benjie Lee has had a careless one night stand with his new employee – mysterious, teenaged Talisa, the adopted daughter of a wealthy, crass Scottish plantation owner, Ian, in the provincial Malaysian town of Segamat. Talisa’s arms are covered in elaborate tattoos, symbolic of great personal achievements among the Iban tribe in her native Borneo. Talisa has fallen pregnant and Ian forces Benjie to marry her. Benjie, who relished his previous life as a carefree, cosmopolitan bachelor, struggles to adapt to life as a husband and father. Meanwhile, an Iban called Minos has languished in a Borneo prison for 10 years for a murder he didn’t commit, and is released into English missionary Bernard’s care. When one day, a Minos and his sidekick Watan appear in Segamat, Benjie has to confront his wife’s true identity and ultimately his own fears. He has only just noticed that he is losing money in large amounts. Could the tattoos be the key to her secrets?

See also What is the Flying Rhino and Why does it Cry? if you are interested to find out more about the background.

About the publishers: Proverse Hong Kong is based in Hong Kong with regional and international connections. The International Proverse Prize for Unpublished Non-fiction, Fiction and Poetry is open to all irrespective of residence, citizenship or nationality. The Publishers were born in the UK and have lived and worked in many countries. They visit Australia, Europe, Japan, Mainland China, Malaysia, New Zealand, Singapore, the United Kingdom and the USA.

Previous winners of the  Proverse Prize: Rebecca Tomasis, for her novel, “Mishpacha – Family” Laura Solomon, for her young adult novella, “Instant Messages” Gillian Jones, for her novel, “A Misted Mirror” David Diskin, for his novel, “The Village in the Mountains” Peter Gregoire, for his novel, “Article 109” Sophronia Liu, for her collection of sketches, “A Shimmering Sea” Birgit Linder, for her illustrated poetry collection, “Shadows in Deferment” James McCarthy, for his biography, “The Diplomat of Kashgar” Philip Chatting, for “The Snow Bridge and Other Stories” Celia Claase, for her essay and poetry collection, “The Layers Between” Lawrence Gray, for his novel, “Adam’s Franchise” Gustav Preller, for his novel, “Curveball: Life never comes at you straight”

100% in 100 days: Crowdfunding my book “Heart of Glass”

HOG 100

Crowdfunding. Is. Over. The three big little words. 100% in 100 days. And the last 3%? Was the longest, shortest journey in the world (I used to say that about giving birth: new person travelling down 62mm birth canal takes what? Anything from about 2 to 20 hours.) But what a push. What a journey. Made me laugh, made me cry, made me wait, made me cry some more, made me eat carbs. The congratulations have been pouring in from y’all. Since last post, Stephen McGowan, Mary Fivey, Gemma Lloyd-Jones, Jessica Duchen, Lisa Radoje, Lulu Allison, Johari Ismail (my repeat patron!), Jacqueline Sardinas, Nicole Vatanavimlakul have come on board the Heart of Glass cruise and others previously named. 100 days is not long for someone who has been writing for 40 years. So many, many thanks to you. Supporters, apparently you get a top quality, first edition, limited edition paperback, months ahead of the shops – which I did not know before. That’s a bonus, right? A surprise!

If you would like to become a patron, you can! Up to the point where in some factory they press print, you can still have your name listed. Head over here.

Next step: editorial team will be in touch with me in the next week or so to introduce me to my developmental editor and start the editorial process. More news to follow very soon! I love to hear from you. Please leave me your feedback or comments. If you liked the vlog, please share.

“Ya’ve been a wunnerful audienz.”- Elvis Presley

pinkchamps

I was a punk even then

birthday

You can’t get more post-colonial, vintage and ironic than this! This photo was taken on my fifth birthday in Segamat, a little railway town in Johor, where we lived for a couple of years. It is on the line from Singapore to Bangkok via KL. We lived in a colonial bungalow which was the staff quarters of the hospital where my dad worked. The grounds were huge. There were fruit trees and frangipanni trees where my dad had made a makeshift swing using a couple of ropes and a short plank (with drill holes, naturally, to keep the seat dry). I knew all train time tables by heart. I waited for them each day, the whistles, the chink-chink, the bells. They were my friends. Even now I find the sound of trains very timeless and soothing. Beyond all trains, is the world. But first, the plantations. Rubber, pineapple, coffee. Segamat was all plantation.

I remember wearing the Scottish kilt, waistcoat and my first wristwatch that my dad bought on his trip to Edinburgh. It was probably the smartest outfit any child had ever worn in the entirety of Johor. Two years after this photo, I first started writing. The reason I know it was two years after was because I used a new unused diary and it had the year on it. Oral storytelling came first. I was only trying to entertain my toddler brothers. ‘And then what happened?’, ‘But who was the first girl?’ Once the stories were too long to tell, I had to write them down, with illustrations of course.

Subsequently, about twelve years ago, I wrote my first novel Cry of the Flying Rhino which was set in Segamat.

Please support my novel Heart of Glass here, become a patron today.

My first Prize-winning Story was Typed on this Typewriter

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The first story which I wrote and submitted was for the 1984 New Straits Times Short Story Competition. It was called Miel and the Honey Bunch or something pretentious-sounding like that. The exact story and wording are all gone now. Success came to me early as a writer, to my detriment, as I since then I always thought I would be a professional and successful writer without much effort. I developed a complacency towards the creative act of writing.

I was then 14 years old and the youngest entrant. There was no such thing as YA genre at the time. You were either an adult or a child. I didn’t get a mention and didn’t win anything.  I competed as an adult but any competition was as tough then as it is now. Out of hundreds and maybe thousands of entries, there can only be one winner and the rest runners up or in the commended list. I was fine. I remember thinking that I just wanted to send it out, no matter what.

In 1986 I entered the same competition again. I was now 16. As per two years before, I wrote the story by hand and dictated it to my mother who typed the story up in triplicate on this typewriter pictured, the Royal 240. My dad bought it in the Johor Bahru NAAFI in 1970*. It was attractively wood-panelled. It had red and black ribbons. I remember that distinctive strong fresh chemical smell of the typewriter ink. It had two discoloured or stained keys, I am not sure why. Graphic designers? Anybody? When I saw this photo (which is the same model but it is not the actual typewriter that was used) I noticed that it also had two discoloured keys! Imagine my excitement at the discovery. I could not type and neither could she. She used two fingers and typed out 1,500 to 2,000 words. I sat next to her and read out a paragraph first, where we would edit manually, orally or aurally, then a second reading word by word for it to be typed. It took some time but in those days you have time! Everybody had time! We used and re-used the carbon paper for the triplicate copies until it was transparent, until you could put it against a window and see the view beyond the window, until an abstract pattern was made by layers and lines of juxtaposed and superimposed text which no longer made sense, which no longer could be read legibly.

She was strangely a perfectionist and I did not know it then, I just thought ‘Damn! Mummy’s fussy!’. We quarreled, I sulked, we came back to the typing, we snapped, we sent it off. Now I feel grateful now that my mother was so supportive and meticulous about it too. When the words looked messy or clumsy on the page, she would rip the paper out and crush it into a ball like those cartoon caricatures of writers. And then we would start again. As she typed I remember her correcting my grammar and turns of phrases. ‘Is’ or ‘was’, ‘would be’ or ‘would have been’, she would ask, sometimes to herself, sometimes to me, and we would discuss. The final decision was sometimes hers, sometimes mine and sometimes joint. Letter by letter, word by word, sentence by sentence, my story was typed out.

This time I won a prize of a weekend writing workshop at the New Straits Times headquarters: 31 Jalan Riong, 51000 Kuala Lumpur. I got to meet the amazingly kind and funny writer Robert Raymer, a poet called Jeya and a film critic called Kee Thuan Chye. You must remember that I was born and raised in Johor Bahru where nothing happens and most definitely, nothing exciting. It is like saying you are from Hull. The address and postcode of The New Straits Times office is etched in my memory forever. I referred to the letter until I memorised it. It went everywhere I went. It was more valuable than money or keys. I just had to have it with me. I held it in my hand, my school bag, my drawer until it tore at the creases where it once folded. I do not have it anymore. Sometimes I wish I still have it but maybe it was the right thing after all that it has perished over time. The letter had served its purpose which was to endorse me as a writer when I was still young.

Please pre-order my novel Heart of Glass here.

*The Navy, Army and Air Force Institutes (NAAFI /ˈnæfiː/) is an organisation created by the British government in 1921 to run recreational establishments needed by the British Armed Forces, and to sell goods to servicemen and their families.

Photo credit: The Royal 240 by Steve K of the White Elephant

 

What has the 1980s Reagan era got to do with it?

IMG_5312HOG 80s tape

Welcome to the Cinema. Make yourself comfy and watch my 1980s-inspired show. Go on! It’s only 1 minute 19 sec long, I swear. Join in the discussion. The 1980s Reagan era was a time of excess, greed and materialism. Do you agree? Which song or songs from the 80s do you identify with which reflect these values? OK I’ll start. “I’m Coming Out” by Diana Ross. Why? It’s disco, innit.

To everybody especially those passengers who have just boarded HMS Ivy the Heart of Glass cruise in the last three weeks – Hello to Andrew Lee, Serena Lowe, Paul Greenleaf, Tracey Husbands, Peter Fuller, Serif Jones, Simon Vrij, Amy Carr, Clair Whiteman, Nadege Houlbrooke-Bowers, Charlotte Callister, Rebecca Ollis, John Wong, Sadie Nathanson-Regan, Mihori Erdelyi, Cissy Piercy, Lesley Ewels, Vanessa Moloney, Stella Soh, Gloria Chin, Kate McVeigh, Hugh Graham, Shirley Hartley, Luciana Sena, Lee Eng Seng, Emma Chase, Simon Miller, Sophie Chong, Vivienne Woon, Ania Kielbasa, Emma Bowman, Andrew MacDonald, Maria Donoghue, Sandy Noble, Sabine Goodwin and each of you previously thanked for joining the Heart of Glass journey. We are 161 strong today, we are 88% funded, 12% to go. Apologies if I have not already contacted you directly to say thanks – it is because I do not have your contact details.

To be a patron, please go here.

I hope you are enjoying the Vlogs. Please leave me your comments, questions and feedback below. I love hearing from you. Ivy

PS I am really rocking this hilarious 1980s big hair, soft focus, gothic frilly top look!

 

请支持我的书: Heart of Glass “玻璃之心” Chinese New Year Update: 54% funded

rooster请支持我的书。六年前我在马来西亚槟城写了一本英文书,叫”玻璃之心”。 74000字。已经完整了,现在预售。这是因为我正在与出版商, Unbound, 众筹出书计划。这本书不仅是我使用我的第二语言写的,写的也关于移民者。这是一部80年代的小说 , 故事发生美国芝加哥和澳门。主角是一个中国女孩,她是音乐家,一小罪犯。欢迎您阅读“关于我”,摘录和摘要,并在这里观看预告片 https://unbound.com/books/heart-of-glass
这是您和我共同成就。您的名字将在这本书的每一版本。对非英国作家写的英语小说/书籍感兴趣的人 , 欢迎您与他们分享。 请大家支持我,和您一样 , 我也是一个妈妈,一个移民者,一个朋友。筹款额10磅
艾薇
后记 – 这筹毫无风险的。如果所需的资助完全达到,您收到您的书。如果没有完全达到您将获得全额退款
 
后记 – 筹款活动一个月前开始了,已经达到54%的资金。😬希望能够帮我实现这本书。

REVIEW: David Szalay’s “All that Man is” Man Booker 2016 shortlist

I started this book in 2016 and finished it in 2017.

That is because I did not want it to end. This book is on the Man Booker Prize 2016 shortlist. There are famously 9 parts to this novel. It has been heavily debated whether it should be a novel or nine short stories. I think it is a novel. It has the impact of a novel. Each is not self-contained. Each leads to the next character. Supposedly this is a novel about masculinity. I wonder if the majority of the readers are men or women. I would be surprised if it was men. The book has universal appeal because it is about the human condition (again) as all literary novels are, and secondly it is about ageing, and therefore the descent of the human over just a few decades.

I don’t know about you, but when I read I like to be taken to somewhere else.

Even if it is a mundane somewhere else, it is not in my own mundane world. All that Man is is nine different men of six nationalities in 13 different countries. I never thought I would be so interested in men. I am not, really. Yet I am fascinated by each of them as their stories unfold. It is the purity of the moment that Szalay excels at. Every moment, even and especially the mundane, is rich and evocative, and lived, in every sense of the word. Plot, grand themes, idea, character exposition is of secondary importance to the living the moment.

The first character is an artsy bookworm type 17-year-old inter-railing around Europe in the summer with his friend before going up to Oxford. The last character is a 73-year-old depressed, lonely and retired civil servant in his second home in the Italian town of Argenta infested by mice and poor central heating.

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SPOILER ALERT. Don’t read this section if you don’t want to know the plot.

The civil servant reads an email from his daughter regarding his grandson who is inter-railing in Europe, who has just written a poem and has been published. Then only the reader finds out the twist, that life has come full cycle, as the novel has. The first character is the lasat character’s grandson after all. These are the only two characters connected to each other. The second character is a lazy unambitious Frenchman, probably in his early twenties, who has been sacked from his job and is now on the pull in Cyprus and manages to sleep with an obese girl AND her mother (because he doesn’t really care and just shags). Next up: a Hungarian working as bodyguard for an acquaintance who pimps his girlfriend in Park Lane hotels in London and he fancies the pants off this girl that he is supposedly bodyguarding. This is followed by a thirty-something Belgian scholar of medieval history who really fancies himself, like an academic would do, driving across Europe to meeting his ambitious and young Polish TV presenter girlfriend who is pregnant. He is totally against it, and reticent about fatherhood. My least favourite character comes next, and I had to speed read this section because I didn’t get it: a Danish journalist flies to Malaga to confront a minister about his affair. Next up: an English estate agent from Earlsfield, London, works with a developer trying to sell cheap Alpine chalets and he fancies the girl who is local Swiss agent but as he is middle-aged he can’t be bothered to make a move on her. Probably my second favourite is the miserable Scottish alcoholic in his fifties relocates to Croatia as it’s cheap, after he has sold his flat and is now drinking himself to death but encounters scams, punchups, mishap after mishap and bad luck; The second last character is a suicidal Russian oligarch in his sixties on his yacht in the Mediterranean, losing all his money to his third wife in some complicated divorce trial and having meetings with butler, cook, and lawyer and various staff. He has lost his verve and passion to live. He realises that he does not want any of his substantial assets and the wife can have it all.

SPOILER OVER. It’s OK to read this last paragraph now.

Therefore it is not quite true to say that plot is secondary. Plot comes from character. The characters make the plot and they become the story. The first thing that occurred to me was – how did he know all that? There is a lot of detail and all of it is relevant. It must have been thoroughly painstaking to write this book. The simpler to read, the more complicated the writing. He knows the minutiae about people, their jobs, their cultures, their countries. These are drawn into photographic detail. Everything rang true. Sadly I have now finished the book. I made it last as long as I could because it is a 9 course meal! Come on! I do not want to rush it as it is the most intense and endearing reading experience that David Szalay has given us. He is so talented and he writes in extremely simple language. It reads like it is a translation. There are no big words. There is nothing he would like to show off except how finely he writes. I really would like David Szalay to write The sequel: All that Woman is.

Heart of Glass the Novel – Silent Movie news update!

Hello! #Vintage alert! Watch this homemade SILENT MOVIE update on Week 3 of project Heart of Glass the Novel with a piano soundtrack by yours truly. But please! Don’t be too critical, it’s my acting debut! I am experimenting with the silent movie concept as I love the Artist and I love the music of Woody Allen movies. Don’t you?
If you haven’t yet please help me by pre-ordering a copy to fund my book. It is about a piano-playing musician in Chicago and Macau in the 1980s. It is about East and West. It has a Chinese girl, an Italian bloke and a Jewish bloke. All the crazy, quarrelsome racial stereotypes (It’s PC. I’m allowed to say this, I am one of them). It is funny, it is sad, it is amoral. It is #literary#music – themed #crimenoir. #heartofglass #supportafriend #postcolonial#fiction #chinesenewyear . Support a friend, an RGS girl, a mum, a UNSW, Middlesex, Kingston graduate, a musician, a writer, an architect, makeup artist, and now, (so, so shocking) an amateur silent actress! Click here or cut and paste link to support me: https://unbound.com/books/heart-of-glass
Please share, tag, show! Please comment, #askmeanything. (Within reason, please) I will answer them in my next vlog!

 

Heart of Glass 24% funded! Week One crowdfunding with Unbound

 

crowds of children

Where to start? What nails? I have no more nails to bite. Come to think of it, no cuticles either. Where am I going to get my daily intake of protein from? I’m going to be eating a low carb humble pie from now to eternity. I can stomach this. There is no room for dignity.

It has been a crazy week. I have never done this before. I am learning myself each day. I learn from others. I am learning the ropes. I am learning to give what people want and need, which is this niche I seem to have created, a grave I have dug, back rod I have carved, for myself. The niche of international fiction, postcolonial writing, crime noir, etc. Exactly! What is the et cetera bit?

I have taught myself patience and humility. This is the opposite of vanity publishing. If anybody thinks this, it’s the total opposite. Don’t even go there! Being vain has sold nothing. Ask any cosmetic-peddling salesgirl in a brightly-lit luxury departmental store. Never in my life after three degrees would I think I would have a sales job. Yet now, I have a sales job. I could be selling makeup but I am not selling makeup. I am selling something that does not even exist yet. I am selling the idea of potential, of investment in writing, of myself, selling a dream.

This is me reading from near the beginning, but not the beginning, in my Unbound shed vlog.

 

“Heart of Glass” a novel by Ivy Ngeow

Heart of Glass

 

Heart of Glass

“A pacy, stylish 1980s literary thriller set in Chicago and Macau”

Support this book here.

Watch the trailer (pitch video) here:

My name is Ivy Ngeow and I am an award-winning writer. I am raising funds for Heart of Glass, a finished product, a completed novel of 74,000 words, with Unbound, an imprint of Penguin Random House. When the funding target is reached, the book will be go into publication.

Why?

It is a unique story. There is nothing like it on the internet or in the market. It is cross-genre and features themes of music, crime noir, vintage 1980s in an international setting, with an Asian female protagonist. It is an underdog story, addressing issues of life as an immigrant in a big city, whose constant desire for success is often squashed by repeated failure. This is a story that needs to be told. The ambience is rich and stylish. The setting is dark, exciting and exotic, set in the days of disco, drugs, smuggling and casinos.

Please support my project and me as a writer

1/ to make the book a reality. Readers and writers today are part of something exclusive and special, a community, a network, a team.

2/ to invest in the publication. The book does NOT required funding to be written. The funding is purely for pre-sales to enable its publication with Unbound, getting it off my hard drive and into the world.

3/ to promote cultural diversity and the post-colonial writer, who is from an ethnic minority that is under-represented in fiction, a non-English person writing in English. I am not only writing in my second language, I am writing about immigrants.

Testimonials:

“It is commercial, punchy, crossover, popular fiction.” – Anna Jean Hughes, Editor, Pigeonhole Publishing

“Ivy Ngeow is a huge talent.” – Isabel White, Isabel White Literary Agency.

Please read the about me, excerpt, and the synopsis here.

Pledge your support now !

Thank you very much.

 

PS I designed the above title graphic for promotional purposes only and may not be actual cover. 😀