I suck at contests. I just can't seem to win anything, not even measly consolation prizes like coupons. All those mind-numbing nights I slaved over the Star Crossword Puzzle contest, dreaming of winning big bucks and brand new cars....All those painful hours I pored over articles for answers to questions in the Star Power of 9 contest.... All those brain-draining decisions I had to make to select the right photos for the MAS Let's Go Now contest....My blood relations have laughed at my futile efforts before. Mum even said that I was not destined to have any "wang choy" - the kind of luck where riches literally just fall into your lap. Instead, I would have to slog hard for my money. It really does takes a strong woman to soldier on in the contest arena....
So, you can imagine my shock and disbelief when I received a sms from my sister proclaiming that we had actually WON a children's picture book contest!! My sister, who was even more pessimistic than me on our chances, told me to check my email and see if it was a hoax. But it wasn't!! The publisher's website, OneRedFlower Press, carried the same announcement as the email! http://1redflower.wordpress.com/
It was a long bout of "Ka..Ka..Ka.." and "Oh My Gods" between my sister and I. She asked me if she was in the Matrix and whether Morpheus would soon turn up with the red and blue pills, while I was couldn’t help thinking of the dreamworld in Inception. What if Leonardo was just messing with my head??? I think part of the shock was due to how innocently the whole thing started, how the idea for the story came about and how we ended up submitting the entries. Never in a million years did we expect to win! Life certainly works in mysterious ways....
I am now really excited and looking forward to what's going to happen next. Our winning story is to be published and we are now initiating discussions with the publisher. I am already being propositioned by wannabe agents who think we’re going to be as big as JK Rowlings. Personally, I am happy if the book even gets made! Getting published will be one of the best prizes ever – of course, if it turned out to be the only contest I ever win in this lifetime, then it becomes THE best prize ever. An important lesson I’ve learnt from this is to always give things a try - you really never know what can happen! Onwards to the next contest!!
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Friday, July 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Haji's Book of Malayan Nursery Rhymes
Trust my sister to find this gem which was first published way back in 1939. She got this1956 edition in mint condition from a second hand book store in Ipoh (which she refused to bring me to so that she can retain exclusive pick on the selections there).
The book contains a selection of nursery ryhmes along with classic Malay translations which can be laugh out loud funny....
The book contains a selection of nursery ryhmes along with classic Malay translations which can be laugh out loud funny....
Old King Cole
Old King Cole
Was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he;
He called for his pipe,
And he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.
Raja Tua Koli
Raja tua Koli
Satu orang banyak joli,
Dia sa-orang suka sangat suka ria;
Dia minta ambil rokok,
Dan dia suroh bawa mangkok,
Dan dia-panggil tiga tukang biola-nya.
The Queen of Hearts
The Queen of Hearts
She made some tarts,
All on a summer's day;
The Knave of Hearts
He stole the tarts,
And with them ran away.
The King of Hearts
Called for the tarts,
And beat the Knave full sore;
The Knave of Hearts
Brought back the tarts,
And vowed he'd steal no more.
Rani Hati
Rani Hati
Buat sate;
Pada suatu hari.
Menteri Hati
Churi sate,
Sudah bawa lari.
Raja Hati
Minta sate,
Menteri kena sebat;
Menteri Hati
Pulang sate,
Churi lagi tobat.
See what I mean? Classic!
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Poetry 101...
My sister recently surrendered to me a 1957 edition of the Senior Anthology of Poetry for Schools in South East Asia. I said surrendered because she loved collecting old books. So, it was probably with some reluctance that she handed it over. She reminded me that we used to have a book of poetry with the exact same title for Literature class during our secondary school days. I had to pause for a while to recall whether there was such a book. I believe my mind must have suppressed those memories of Literature class as a sort of protective mechanism. Yes, it is all coming back to me now....
Flashback to the times when we sat in class, hunched in nervous anxiety behind our newer editions of Senior Anthology of Poetry. Our teacher, Mrs. Peters, a commando disguised in a sari and hair bun, would have been reading aloud a selected poem. Her clear voice would waft to our ears, bringing words of great (and mostly dead) poets, words hoping to get understood and appreciated....And our teenage minds would be vacuous vessels, unable to comprehend. After the reading finished, she would cast her penetrating eye around the classroom. And we would huddle in dread, trying desperately to look invisible. After zooming in on the sacrificial lamb, she would boom “You, Ah Moi, what do you think the poet is trying to convey?” (Note : in an attempt to protect the identities of the traumatised victims from Literature class, I have used anonymous identities here).
We all empathised with Ah Moi but those were the times where Darwin’s Survival of the Fittest theory kicks in strong and self preservation takes priority above friendship and loyalty (just so you know, apparently the term Survival of the Fittest was coined by another guy called Herbert Spencer, not Darwin lah!). So, we cast encouraging glances to Ah Moi, hoping she would bluster up enough sense to appease Mrs. Peters. Of course, it is also in the name of self preservation that we were putting our money on Ah Moi to save the day. Can’t have Mrs. Peters pick on Minachi next, can we? Alas, we were but vacuous minded teens and intelligent replies were few and far in between. On good days, Mrs. Peters would just raise her eyes to heaven and wonder how she ended up there. On others, we will get a verbal lashing from a very frustrated Mrs. Peters and a 100 line poem to memorise and recite at the next class. And explain what the poet was trying to convey of course. Those were the days....boy, am I glad that’s over!
Poetry took a back seat after secondary school. Reading became centered on popular novels and works of fiction. Chick-lit, fantasy, humour, crime fiction....I guess I have a tiny artsy vein in my body in that I still read some classics once in a while. But that was it. Poetry did not feature much, if at all. However on a recent day, at an MPH warehouse sale, I came across a gorgeously illustrated book of children’s poetry. It was a good bargain at the price. And in hard cover too. So, I bought it. As I flipped through the pages, I began to enjoy it. There were no heavy duty verses or complicated phrases. Just simple words constructed in a beautiful form. Hallelujah, I could actually understand it! I didn’t even have to refer to a dictionary (yet). The light dawned on me. Stupid education system! They should have stuck to children’s poetry, not the Senior Anthology of Poetry!! OK, half kidding on that one.
Poetry can be enjoyed if given a chance. No need to get into the deep stuff if they seem too complicated (especially after a hard day at the office, the brain doesn’t want to be going into overtime!). I guess the trick is to pick ones you can understand and appreciate. Poets have amazing talent and imagination to be able to put together phrases that roll off the tongue with such lyricism. There are a lot of stories to be found in poetry and poems. They can be solemn, sad, happy, nonsensical.... even nursery rhymes and limericks are a fun variation. I have a long way to go towards real poetry appreciation but hey, it’s never too late to start. It’s all about expanding your horizons. I may be sticking to children’s stuff for a while though. I thought I’d share a few with you every now and then whenever I come across any that I liked.
To start off, here are two selections... enjoy! (from “A Family of Poems” compiled by Caroline Kennedy).
Careless Willie
Willie with a thirst for gore
Nailed his sister to the door
Mother said with humor quaint
“Careful, Willie, don’t scratch the paint!
Anonymous
ME
As long as I live
I shall always be
My Self – and no other,
Just me.
Like a tree.
Willow, elder,
Aspen, thorn,
Or cypress forlorn.
Like a flower,
For its hour –
Primrose, or pink,
Or a violet –
Sunned by the sun,
And with dewdrops wet.
Always just me.
Walter de la Mare
Flashback to the times when we sat in class, hunched in nervous anxiety behind our newer editions of Senior Anthology of Poetry. Our teacher, Mrs. Peters, a commando disguised in a sari and hair bun, would have been reading aloud a selected poem. Her clear voice would waft to our ears, bringing words of great (and mostly dead) poets, words hoping to get understood and appreciated....And our teenage minds would be vacuous vessels, unable to comprehend. After the reading finished, she would cast her penetrating eye around the classroom. And we would huddle in dread, trying desperately to look invisible. After zooming in on the sacrificial lamb, she would boom “You, Ah Moi, what do you think the poet is trying to convey?” (Note : in an attempt to protect the identities of the traumatised victims from Literature class, I have used anonymous identities here).
We all empathised with Ah Moi but those were the times where Darwin’s Survival of the Fittest theory kicks in strong and self preservation takes priority above friendship and loyalty (just so you know, apparently the term Survival of the Fittest was coined by another guy called Herbert Spencer, not Darwin lah!). So, we cast encouraging glances to Ah Moi, hoping she would bluster up enough sense to appease Mrs. Peters. Of course, it is also in the name of self preservation that we were putting our money on Ah Moi to save the day. Can’t have Mrs. Peters pick on Minachi next, can we? Alas, we were but vacuous minded teens and intelligent replies were few and far in between. On good days, Mrs. Peters would just raise her eyes to heaven and wonder how she ended up there. On others, we will get a verbal lashing from a very frustrated Mrs. Peters and a 100 line poem to memorise and recite at the next class. And explain what the poet was trying to convey of course. Those were the days....boy, am I glad that’s over!
Poetry took a back seat after secondary school. Reading became centered on popular novels and works of fiction. Chick-lit, fantasy, humour, crime fiction....I guess I have a tiny artsy vein in my body in that I still read some classics once in a while. But that was it. Poetry did not feature much, if at all. However on a recent day, at an MPH warehouse sale, I came across a gorgeously illustrated book of children’s poetry. It was a good bargain at the price. And in hard cover too. So, I bought it. As I flipped through the pages, I began to enjoy it. There were no heavy duty verses or complicated phrases. Just simple words constructed in a beautiful form. Hallelujah, I could actually understand it! I didn’t even have to refer to a dictionary (yet). The light dawned on me. Stupid education system! They should have stuck to children’s poetry, not the Senior Anthology of Poetry!! OK, half kidding on that one.
Poetry can be enjoyed if given a chance. No need to get into the deep stuff if they seem too complicated (especially after a hard day at the office, the brain doesn’t want to be going into overtime!). I guess the trick is to pick ones you can understand and appreciate. Poets have amazing talent and imagination to be able to put together phrases that roll off the tongue with such lyricism. There are a lot of stories to be found in poetry and poems. They can be solemn, sad, happy, nonsensical.... even nursery rhymes and limericks are a fun variation. I have a long way to go towards real poetry appreciation but hey, it’s never too late to start. It’s all about expanding your horizons. I may be sticking to children’s stuff for a while though. I thought I’d share a few with you every now and then whenever I come across any that I liked.
To start off, here are two selections... enjoy! (from “A Family of Poems” compiled by Caroline Kennedy).
Careless Willie
Willie with a thirst for gore
Nailed his sister to the door
Mother said with humor quaint
“Careful, Willie, don’t scratch the paint!
Anonymous
ME
As long as I live
I shall always be
My Self – and no other,
Just me.
Like a tree.
Willow, elder,
Aspen, thorn,
Or cypress forlorn.
Like a flower,
For its hour –
Primrose, or pink,
Or a violet –
Sunned by the sun,
And with dewdrops wet.
Always just me.
Walter de la Mare
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