A L Kennedy

Stranded here while the ash cloud floats invisibly overhead I've been reading an old short story by A L Kennedy. She says
"Go into any place where history is stored and listen. Hold your breath. Hear how still it is. ... It is the huge, invisible, silent roar of all the people who are too small to record. They disappear and leave the past inhabited only by murderers, prodigies and saints."
I think its 'prodigies' that lifts her above the merely good.

Anyway, the digital will change that. We all have our 15minutesoffame and there won't be room for the exceptional, just the promotional.

Walls of silence and incomprehension

Oulu, Northern Finland. I'm here to teach for 5 days, 2 hour sessions to Literature and Linguistics students who've never written a web page before. When I asked, 5out of 7 said they didn't consider themselves creative. At all. Yes they're sure.
Six said they did not read for pleasure, none of them ever wrote, voluntarily, anything longer than an SMS message. Except for exams, one helpfully offered, and they all nodded.
So, five two-hour sessions, including this one, to get them to write a short piece of hypertext fiction, using a pencil and Notepad, no HTML editors. Piece of cake.
I have not begun before two of them say they can't come on Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday, and another is away Thursday and Friday, at a close friend's funeral.
Any bets on success?