1:05

Welcome to our newest podcast series

1:07

where we celebrate our Pushkar nominees.

1:10

Each of these authors forged ahead with

1:12

pieces that left lasting impressions

1:15

on us as editors and on

1:17

you, our listeners and readers.

1:20

We've published so many incredible stories

1:22

and 2023, and it was a very tough

1:25

choice for us. But these

1:27

six pieces surprised us with

1:30

bold and unique qualities that

1:32

really left a mark

1:34

In the series. We asked each of our

1:36

six nominees to read an excerpt and

1:38

share with us some insights about their piece and

1:41

themselves as writers. Each

1:43

episode will feature three of our

1:46

nominees, as well as some musings

1:48

from the Metalworker editors. We

1:50

hope you enjoy this feature series as

1:52

much as we enjoy presenting it.

1:56

Hello everyone. Welcome to the Metalworker

1:59

podcast. I'm Elena Pettis , the

2:01

editor in chief .

2:02

And I'm Mel Reynolds, also an

2:05

editor at the Meta Worker .

2:07

And I'm Kara Jones, the international

2:10

editor here at The Meta Worker .

2:12

And today we're doing a two-part podcast to

2:15

introduce our 2023 Pushkar

2:17

Prize nominees. This is the very first

2:19

year we have nominated authors for the Pushkar

2:22

Prize, so we're very excited to

2:24

be able to give our authors formal recognition

2:26

for their beautiful writing. In this first

2:28

episode, we'll talk about pieces from

2:30

three of our nominees. Amit the Basu

2:33

, author of the Short fiction piece

2:35

Retreat. Daniel Brennan, author

2:37

of the poem, the Beach. And

2:40

Marie Louise McGinnis,

2:43

author of the nonfiction piece, lives

2:45

of Dust and Ashes. You'll

2:47

hear excerpts from the authors, and we

2:50

editors will discuss what we loved about

2:52

each story that made us decide to nominate

2:54

it for a push cart . So first,

2:58

we'll hear from Amita reading an excerpt

3:00

from her fiction story retreat. Amitha

3:05

Bass's fiction has appeared or is forthcoming in

3:07

over 60 magazines and anthologies, including

3:10

the pen review, bamboo Ridge, another

3:13

Chicago magazine, the Doll Howie

3:15

Review and Funicular. She's

3:18

a first reader at the Meta Worker , a

3:20

sustainability columnist and interviews editor

3:22

at Meme Pepper Vine and

3:24

a submissions editor at Fairfield scribes

3:27

Micro fiction . She lives in Bangalore,

3:29

uses her cognitive science PhD to

3:32

work on sustainable behavior and [email protected].

3:38

Uh , hi everyone. Um , my name is Amita

3:41

Basu and I am from Bangalore, India.

3:44

Uh , today I'll be reading an excerpt from my

3:46

short story retreat, which was published

3:49

in the Meta Worker in July

3:51

of last year. Uh,

3:54

this is retreat. I

3:56

survey my painting of the snow covered

3:59

peak of kga . I'll

4:01

finish it this week, gritting

4:03

my teeth. I hustle into my blazer.

4:06

Female faculty, but not male must

4:08

wear blazers. I fill

4:10

my mind with thoughts of snow and

4:13

grasp for grace to get through my day.

4:16

Bye . I call rushing across the drawing room.

4:19

It looks like rain. Have you got your

4:21

rain Prya ? Paul's

4:23

voice is muffled behind his PM

4:25

95 mask . He's

4:28

been searching for a book. His bookshelf

4:30

is slightly dusty and his nose, highly

4:33

rhinitis prone, cross

4:35

the roads very carefully. Mark holds

4:37

from the kitchen, pausing her

4:39

breathing exercises. Traffic

4:42

is so crazy these days. Anyone

4:44

could just hit you and drive away.

4:47

All right , I'm mu shouting the front door.

4:50

My shoes half on . I hasten

4:52

down the second floor corridor. Sometimes

4:56

my parents remember mo dangers

4:58

to warn me against and

5:00

calls him out the door. I

5:03

stand at the corner. Hailing auto rickshaws

5:05

. Many are ferrying

5:07

school children. Plastic sacks

5:09

full of produce five liter

5:11

gas cylinders or the driver's wives

5:13

holding stacked X-rays bound

5:16

for grosses . Ola

5:18

and Uber now dominate the market

5:21

with prices so low that I wonder how

5:23

they pay for fuel. Nevermind service

5:27

to make ends meet or directional drivers

5:29

who are not online. Moonlight

5:31

as tiny delivery vans, but

5:34

sun drivers still can't be bothered. Three

5:37

empty autos pass me by refusing

5:40

to go so short to distance. They're

5:43

still living in the pre globalized Bangalore

5:46

of extortionist autoshop prices

5:49

under my blazer, sweat prickles my

5:51

neck. I've got my raincoat

5:54

all right , but the rain's been holding off

5:56

and it's phenomenally muggy. There

5:59

was a power cut and neither the flat

6:01

complexes generator nor

6:04

our private inverter powers the air

6:06

conditioner. I barely slept.

6:09

My temper rises with my temperature

6:12

cross carefully as if I were a child. I

6:15

thought it would be nice to move back home far

6:18

from the Mid-City bustle, but

6:20

my parents are too much. It's

6:23

all right for them to cordle themselves with

6:25

late breakfasts of hill wheat toast with

6:27

midgets of jam or butter, socks

6:30

and mufflers at the temperature. Dips

6:32

below 25 degrees centigrade

6:35

and a dusk mask habit for predating

6:37

covid. But I need to

6:39

get away from all this bourgeois moly

6:41

, coddling. I need a little risk

6:44

and new scenes to paint at

6:46

university. It's business as usual. When

6:50

I began my teaching career in

6:52

December, my colleagues advised me to enforce

6:54

strict discipline. Phones

6:57

face down on the desk, laptops

6:59

shut pin, drop silence. But

7:02

fresh from my PhD and no fan

7:04

of sitting still and listening myself, I

7:07

gave my students leeway. I

7:09

dreamed of demonstrating the effectiveness

7:12

of democracy classrooms . Six

7:14

months in the whole back half of this class

7:17

of 19, 18 year olds

7:20

spends all hour chattering. The

7:22

students at the front straining to hear glances

7:26

reproachfully over their shoulders at their

7:28

football hooligan. Classmates, I

7:31

whine a plea for silence, leavened

7:33

with a smile. The noise ebbs

7:35

briefly before deafening near afresh

7:38

. I stumbled through the hour Anyhow,

7:41

I figure it's my job to teach and there's

7:43

to listen. I pity these young

7:46

people away for the first time from

7:48

cloistering parents and ette

7:50

teachers, overburdened with academics

7:52

and Dexter curriculars, and sometimes

7:55

a tiny bit. I want to murder them. I've

7:58

got to find another job. After

8:01

losses , unable to work, waiting for

8:03

sign out time. I try to nap

8:05

in my cabin. I'm exuding

8:07

heat from every paw . The heat churns

8:10

my lunch in my stomach these

8:12

days. Even a cord pushing vegetable

8:15

vendor accepts Google Pay, even

8:17

for tiny sums. But the

8:19

auto original driver I approached to drive

8:21

me home is elderly. So I

8:23

ask whether he accepts online payment.

8:26

He shakes his head. Then

8:28

do you have change for a piece ? 100. He

8:30

nods. He wants a

8:33

piece . 70. I tell him I pay 60 rupees

8:35

every day up from 50 since

8:37

the Ukraine war began. He nods

8:39

at the backseat . We set off elderly

8:42

drivers. Drive slower. Maybe

8:45

it's because they can't see the road too well.

8:47

Maybe it's because they've seen too much. I

8:50

study him in the rear view. His

8:53

skin is grayish under his grizzled

8:55

beard and his gray eyes are restless.

8:58

He looks like he lives on tea and cigarettes.

9:01

His conky uniform is mottled gray

9:03

brown. He scratches his chin

9:05

with his , uh, with his inch

9:08

long index fingernail. I've

9:10

watched television. I know what one long

9:12

fingernail means. I wonder

9:15

what he wanted to be when he was a child.

9:17

I look away. It's the peak

9:19

of monsoon. But the lake shows not a

9:21

sliver of water. It's

9:24

covered with water . Higher sense . I wonder

9:26

if the people who built these little

9:28

odd shaped two bright houses knew

9:31

that in 10 years time the lake would

9:33

be dry, ringed by towering

9:35

condo complexes, stinking with rubbish

9:38

covered with weeds and

9:40

patrolled by Nike cla joggers

9:42

as numerous and uniform as ants.

9:45

I look away on

9:47

my phone. I scroll through Google image photos

9:51

of conjun . I'm basing

9:53

my painting on my own photos from midwinter,

9:56

but it helps to have different views. Conga

10:00

still looks as the human beings never existed.

10:03

If you don't have change, sir, I say as

10:05

we pause the street full of shops, we

10:07

can get it here. I call everyone,

10:10

sir, it's nice to be polite. They

10:12

don't always call you madam, but that's ignorance,

10:15

roses and rudeness. The

10:18

younger drivers who know smidgens

10:21

of English are mobile polite

10:23

, but they drive down the narrow high

10:26

traffic streets like motor spirit

10:28

races in a world off arena.

10:31

I'll take grouchy over daredevil. I

10:33

have changed the auto rickshaw driver motors

10:36

. I stop him at the private

10:38

street leading to the flat complex

10:41

gate . I never make drivers go

10:43

all the way. I produce my a

10:45

hundred rupees, he produces 20

10:48

rupees. I wait for him to produce

10:50

20 more. He pat his

10:52

breast pockets perfectly . Then

10:54

shrunks. Sir, you said you

10:56

had to change. So

11:00

that was my accept from the story. Um,

11:05

so to tell you guys a little bit about the piece,

11:08

the inspiration for this story was basically

11:10

that this particular incident , uh,

11:13

misunderstanding with an

11:15

auto short driver about a

11:17

payment happened with me. And

11:20

it was pretty much outta the blue since

11:22

I've been traveling this road for a while

11:24

and nothing had happened. And

11:27

uh , I'm someone who

11:29

has struggled my whole life with a very bad

11:32

temper. Normally I'm

11:34

very soft spoken and civil

11:36

and polite, but once I

11:38

snap, I rarely snap. So

11:40

, uh, so this story was basically about

11:43

that and then trying to put

11:45

that in the context of, of

11:48

the relationship between emotions and odd

11:50

, and the idea that

11:52

, um, you know, that when

11:56

you actually feel something, it's

11:58

often uncomfortable. Emotions are

12:00

often , uh, you know, like

12:03

they're a lot to handle, but they can

12:05

also energize your odd . And in that sense,

12:08

drama which is bad for life, can

12:10

often be good for art because it gives

12:12

you that jolt of energy. It

12:15

wakes you up. You know, when you are, it

12:18

wakes you up and it basically lets you make

12:20

better art. So that was the inspiration

12:22

for the piece . Uh, what

12:24

does being a writer to me mean? I think

12:27

it means being present in

12:29

the world, engaging with the world, being

12:31

observant. The two words

12:33

that I , uh, try to prioritize

12:37

are the two , um, goals I try to go

12:39

for in my writing are truthfulness

12:42

and compassion. So I basically aim

12:44

to depict the characters

12:46

in my story with accuracy as

12:49

well as with compassion. And

12:51

that goes when I put myself in

12:53

my stories as well, which happens not

12:56

infrequently. Uh, for

12:58

me being nominated for retreat for

13:00

the push card award is, it

13:03

was, it was just totally unexpected. And

13:05

I, and I'm just deeply honored and

13:07

I dunno what else to say because it was just, we're

13:10

just a huge honor. Uh, currently

13:12

I'm working on more short stories.

13:15

I'm working on, I finished

13:17

my first book of literary short stories

13:20

last year. That was my first book. I'm trying to

13:22

find an agent for it, and now

13:24

I'm just writing no short stories. I

13:26

should be working on a novel as well, since it's

13:29

easier to sell a novel than

13:31

a short story collection. And

13:33

I've got ideas for a couple of

13:35

novels, but right now I just feel more

13:38

interested in writing and more short stories.

13:41

Uh, that's it from me . Thank you guys so much.

13:44

Thank you Amitha, for sharing that beautiful reading.

13:46

I loved hearing you read your piece. I

13:49

love that , that this story is about

13:51

an exploration of emotions. They

13:54

definitely can be tough to handle sometimes. And

13:57

so seeing how her characters

13:59

handle their temper is very

14:01

insightful and interesting.

14:04

Absolutely. And I have to mirror

14:06

your statement. I, I also enjoyed

14:08

listening to her read the piece because

14:11

it brought a different depth

14:14

to the reading or, or to

14:16

my interpretation personally.

14:18

I liked , uh, the glimpse into

14:21

a different world. Uh

14:23

, at least for me, you know, I, I've never traveled

14:25

outside of the United States, so anytime

14:28

I can be transported somewhere else, I,

14:31

I automatically fall in

14:33

love with that piece a little bit. So

14:36

added in , uh, with that

14:38

hearing Amita read it , uh,

14:41

just maybe even more alive

14:43

for me, it was so much fun. <laugh>

14:46

I can , uh, relate to that from

14:49

a slightly different point. So for me, when reading

14:51

the story, I've actually been to , um, beore

14:53

or Bengaluru , and it put me

14:56

straight back in the smells and

14:58

the tastes , uh, and the environment

15:01

and the atmosphere. It was just so

15:04

vividly beautiful. So I think that's

15:06

a really high skill to

15:08

craftsmanship when, like, Mel, you've

15:11

never been there, but you feel like you've been

15:13

there, you know, <laugh>. So we

15:15

have that. Yeah, absolutely. That wonderful

15:17

telling. It really puts you in that , I mean, let alone

15:19

the , the beauty of the depth of these characters,

15:22

just that setting and place

15:24

is remarkable in this space

15:26

.

15:27

I also thought the , uh, scene

15:30

in the classroom was very

15:33

relatable, <laugh> with the

15:35

, uh, she, she's

15:37

the teacher and she

15:39

kind of still feels like

15:42

her. I don't

15:44

know if it's not that she's

15:47

being respected, but it's definitely a

15:49

struggle there. And , uh, as

15:51

someone who has taught , uh, some

15:53

college classes myself, <laugh> , I,

15:56

I could relate to that so much. So

15:58

it felt like that led

16:00

to the buildup of

16:02

tension in this character. And

16:05

, um, I think that that

16:07

part was very well done.

16:09

Yeah, I agree. That's one thing I really loved

16:11

about this story was that slow buildup,

16:13

because it starts out very , um,

16:16

contemplative and, you

16:18

know, exploring, like I said, her emotions. Um,

16:20

and then it moves into her

16:22

temper and, and dealing with that. And we

16:24

see that, you know, building up over

16:26

the course of the day, like you said, with the , in the

16:29

classroom with the students , um, and then with this

16:31

very frustrating driver <laugh>. So,

16:35

and then I also like the resolution , um,

16:37

because she does have a blowup, but it's,

16:40

it's not your typical blowup, I guess,

16:42

that, you know, like angry and smashing things.

16:44

It's, it's , um, it's

16:46

different and she comes to a resolution

16:49

within herself as well as

16:51

with the, the driver. Um,

16:54

so it's, it's kind of satisfying in that way,

16:56

both for the reader and for her, but

16:59

it also leaves room for , um, her

17:01

character to, to grow.

17:03

Like we see that this isn't gonna be , um,

17:06

you know, just one definitive thing that she,

17:09

you know, learned from and then will change forever

17:11

more . No, it's, it's still gonna be this ongoing

17:13

, um, challenge that she'll have to work on. So

17:15

I, I liked that it was , um, because

17:18

that's how people are, you know, it's, it's exploring

17:20

that whole process.

17:22

Yeah, absolutely. I mean, it's embracing those

17:25

contrasts. And I think that's one of the other

17:27

really beautiful things about this story is

17:29

that we are presented with so many

17:31

different layers of contrast. Not

17:33

just the contrast in what she sees in

17:36

her surroundings, but who she is as

17:38

a person, who her family is, you

17:40

know, who the , uh, people she interact

17:42

with are. All these contrasts,

17:45

these pros and cons are kind of yin

17:47

and yang of it all as kind of brought

17:49

to the surface, which gives you

17:52

such rich contextual setting

17:55

and character development, which is why

17:57

it's so relatable too, right? Because nothing

17:59

is black and white in this world. Our

18:03

Next nominated author is Daniel

18:06

Brennan, the author of the poem, the

18:08

Beach. Daniel is a writer

18:10

and resident of New York City, but

18:12

spent much of his youth in the Blue Ridge Mountains

18:15

of Pennsylvania, an early ecological

18:17

inspiration for his work as

18:19

a member of the lgbtqia

18:21

plus community. Brennan hopes

18:24

to capture and juxtapose the vastness

18:26

we experience within our rapidly changing

18:28

natural world with the often daunting

18:30

intimacies the body presents. His

18:33

poems have been published or are forthcoming

18:35

in Passengers Journal, the Garfield

18:37

Lake Review One Art and

18:40

Feral , a Journal of Poetry and Art among

18:43

others. Find him on Instagram

18:45

and Twitter at Danny j

18:47

Brennan. So we don't

18:49

have a reading from Daniel , um, but we will

18:51

talk about what we loved about

18:54

his poem and why we chose to

18:56

nominate it.

18:57

Well, what I really love

19:00

about this piece is the

19:02

imagery. I think

19:05

that it is just so striking the

19:07

way that Daniel takes the

19:09

beach and makes it a living being

19:12

or character in this poem that

19:15

reacts to the speaker. I thought

19:17

that that was super clever and

19:21

visceral in a way that , um,

19:24

there, there's no way you can read this poem

19:26

without feeling something. Uh

19:28

, it's, I just thought it was fantastic.

19:32

Yeah, I really love that too. And I

19:34

also love that it's , um, it's about, it

19:36

feels like maybe a first love or

19:40

just an intense emotional experience

19:43

with someone you care about. And

19:47

I , I love the comparison to the

19:49

ocean. You know, like the waves

19:52

are always coming into the beach and pulling

19:54

the sand away. So it's

19:56

always little by little eroding

19:59

these intense feelings , um,

20:01

that may be so overwhelming that

20:04

you just have to give into them and you enjoy

20:07

them. But reflecting back, seeing

20:09

that this was temporary, and so

20:12

feeling a little sad that it inevitably

20:14

had to end, but wishing that

20:17

it didn't, wishing things could be different , um,

20:20

and kind of feeling that nostalgia

20:22

for, you know, times past , but

20:25

knowing that it's like the beach.

20:28

It's the natural order of

20:30

things. Well ,

20:31

It's, it's like an extended metaphor,

20:33

isn't it? You know, like with those, the , the

20:36

waves coming in and out, how the ocean sort

20:38

of works, rolling with the tides. And

20:40

this poem encapsulates

20:42

that, waving in

20:45

and out that we experience in

20:47

ourselves and our attachment to

20:49

our emotions and the people around

20:52

us, and with memory and with

20:54

evolving. And it's that tug push

20:56

and pull. And like you say, Elena , that

20:58

that eroding away, but also

21:01

bringing back into it

21:03

has such a wonderful , uh,

21:07

flow back and forth both

21:09

in the words itself and the contextual

21:12

meaning that goes inside there . And the way

21:14

it pulls on the emotions, our emotions e

21:16

and flow throughout this piece too.

21:19

And what's amazing is if you

21:22

go to our website and look at

21:24

the way this poem is

21:27

structured, you can see that the lines

21:29

themselves almost form what

21:31

look like waves. Mm-Hmm , <affirmative> just by the

21:33

length. It, it's really, really

21:36

cool the way , uh, Daniel has , um,

21:39

made it both , uh, in

21:41

the images in the subject, but also

21:44

the visual look of the poem that,

21:46

that to me is , um, such

21:49

a hard thing to do. And I'm always super

21:51

impressed when someone can do that.

21:54

There is a lot to be said about like an

21:56

, especially a modern poetry , um,

21:59

that has some of the traditional romantic

22:02

era sort of touches, like this piece does.

22:04

But really exploring the formatting,

22:07

how the work of art looks

22:09

on the page and what experience that

22:11

gives to the reader really

22:13

helps encapsulate all those extra

22:16

emotional responses for us.

22:18

You know, all the senses become awoken

22:21

when we're engaging in this kind of format.

22:24

Yeah. It's very intentional. Um,

22:27

and yeah, you're right, the repetition is

22:29

intentional. The wording is intentional. Um,

22:32

it definitely mirrors that

22:35

back and forth wave feel of,

22:37

of being at the ocean and being

22:39

pulled into the waves, maybe being sucked

22:41

down by the undertow. I can really

22:44

feel that , um, rawness

22:47

of both the natural beauty of

22:49

the beach, but also of

22:52

being a human in love and exploring

22:54

what that means since human

22:56

beings are also part of nature. It's,

22:59

it's just so beautiful.

23:01

Yeah. And when you said that it made , it

23:03

made me think too about how

23:05

, um, the beach

23:08

is a space that is between the

23:10

ocean and land. So

23:12

it's this in-between place and it kind

23:14

of almost feels like the speaker themselves

23:17

is in this weird, in-between

23:19

place. Like there's mention of

23:22

forgetting the name, but

23:24

then also becoming memories. So

23:26

it's this , um, really

23:29

interesting dynamic that , uh, I

23:32

think the setting couldn't be more perfect for

23:35

what , uh, the poem is talking about.

23:37

Yeah.

23:38

And it's not just in between land

23:40

and water, but there's also sky too

23:42

, right? Like when you're looking out at the ocean, you

23:45

can see that horizon line . So there's sort

23:47

of this impending infiniteness

23:50

that sort of exists. And I kind

23:52

of feel like there's touches of that

23:54

sort of feeling in between

23:56

the line breaks in this poem. Like you

23:58

get the sense of the

24:01

infiniteness of our, our expansion

24:03

as emotive and cognitive

24:06

beings, you know? Um, and

24:08

I really like that feeling that there's a particular

24:10

line that that references , um,

24:14

uh, swallowing whole constellations, you

24:16

know , so breaking down this

24:20

physical and this emotional, the

24:22

setting and this internal, the introvert

24:25

and the extrovert elements, you know,

24:27

that give and take that goes through,

24:29

there's something quite magical about

24:31

that. I think that's why the emotive is

24:33

just so strong, because it's

24:36

pushing all of those

24:38

things, you know , and pulling them in.

24:40

Yeah. It, it really reflects that

24:42

wildness and excitement of,

24:45

of being young or being in a

24:47

new relationship. Um, like

24:50

you're saying, it's, it's that in-between, of

24:52

not only the earth and sky and water,

24:55

but also the in-between of age

24:57

and, and, you know, life being

24:59

young, you have all of this

25:02

potential to explore and

25:04

all of this energy to go

25:07

and try anything because

25:09

you just know it's possible and you wanna

25:11

try it. Um, and so it

25:13

just, it's really reflected in, in

25:15

the way that this poem is worded and

25:17

formatted like we've discussed. Mm-Hmm . Yeah

25:20

. That

25:20

Being young of , uh, needing to

25:22

explore to find out who you

25:24

are, you know? Mm-Hmm . <affirmative> . And then as we age,

25:27

we kind of have these regressions back

25:29

of going, oh , hang on, are we actually entirely

25:32

what we thought we were? You know? Mm-Hmm.

25:34

<affirmative> . So bringing back into that too

25:36

, like, is it, is it all physical

25:38

or is it all emotional? And, and what we

25:40

choose to obtain memories

25:42

of and what we choose to forget.

25:45

And it's all us just like, you know,

25:47

I mean all those grains of sand on the

25:49

beach were all rocks or mountain

25:51

cliffs, you know, they've been withered away

25:53

and brought down, but it's all still part

25:56

of the experience, you know , um,

25:58

of our existence with ourselves and

26:00

how we share ourselves with the world

26:03

around that, whether it's with a lover

26:05

or, you know, engaging in

26:07

something as romantic as a

26:09

beach. <laugh>.

26:11

Yeah, <laugh> . Yeah.

26:13

Yeah. They say water remembers. So,

26:16

I mean, you know , we're a big part water

26:19

as humans. So 80% , yeah.

26:21

80% water. Yep . <laugh> . It's

26:25

all connected. <laugh> . Our

26:29

next nominated author that

26:31

we are highlighting is Marie Louise

26:34

McGinnis . Marie Louise comes from

26:37

a wonderfully neurodiverse household in rural

26:39

Northern Ireland. She has work

26:41

published or forthcoming in UA

26:44

<inaudible> press, bending Genres,

26:47

Intrepid Inc . Flash Fiction

26:50

magazine and the Aeronaut amongst

26:52

others. She enjoys writing from

26:55

a sensory perspective.

26:58

My name is Ma Louise McGinnis

27:00

, and I come from Oma in

27:02

Northern Ireland. My

27:05

essay is called Lives of Dust

27:07

and Ashes in

27:10

Oma. Many of us believed that bomb

27:12

scares were just that scares.

27:16

Although they were regularly found, bombs

27:19

didn't explode here. And

27:21

if the courthouse were to collapse like

27:23

the White House in Independence Day, we

27:26

all wanted a front row seat. I

27:29

was just back at work when a piercing

27:32

blue light heralded a silent vacuum

27:35

where reminiscent of life on

27:37

a space station, people and

27:40

things drifted into the air,

27:42

weightless without gravity, plates

27:46

and cups flew over my head, and

27:49

I focused on the sausage rolls that

27:51

flew like birds straight through

27:53

glass and into the darkness. Outside

27:57

the bang came afterwards as

27:59

if the earth had just regained consciousness

28:03

and gravity returned with

28:05

violent force. We

28:08

were rushed into a garden at the back

28:10

where we shook as the air

28:13

swirled with odor, dirt, then

28:16

panic as we were once again

28:18

ushered in another direction into

28:21

the street where detritus

28:24

too horrific to nim lay beneath

28:26

our wobbling legs. We

28:29

had to run for there may be another

28:31

bomb. We had no destination

28:34

in mind. Just far from

28:36

there. I had nowhere

28:38

to go and no way home, as

28:40

the roads were blocked with cars,

28:43

ambulances, and policemen. So

28:46

I stayed with a workmate who lived near

28:48

me. Her brother was

28:50

missing, so we had to go to

28:52

the hospital to search for him. I

28:55

broke from her there as she was

28:58

enveloped by her family and

29:00

on my own. I stumbled through

29:03

a hospital without order. It

29:06

was flooded with people with

29:09

faces, faces

29:11

everywhere. Marble

29:14

facades, no longer human alabaster

29:17

peel, alien faces or

29:19

subterranean faces that did

29:22

not blink. Eyes glazed

29:24

and frozen color indistinguishable

29:28

from pupils murky

29:30

and shining like glass legs.

29:33

Also the giggling, lots

29:36

of giggling and macabre

29:38

comedy of shock and horror faces

29:41

in strained grimace, not

29:44

seeming to be aware of the gruesome

29:46

remnants at their feet. Glass

29:49

and blood and suit and

29:52

people, people on

29:54

the floor, on stretchers,

29:57

in makeshift operating theaters

29:59

in open doored wards, nurses

30:02

crying, expelling, vomit

30:04

into once pristine corners.

30:07

And doctors shouting, shouting

30:10

at me to get out. I

30:13

didn't need to be there, I

30:15

really didn't. Eventually

30:18

I found my work commit and was informed that

30:20

her brother was home so we could

30:22

leave on arrival home.

30:25

My mom clutched me, typed her

30:27

relief, palpable as she had thought.

30:29

I was dead until a rambling

30:32

phone call about sausage rolls

30:34

from a neighbor's mobile phone.

30:37

The days afterwards dragged

30:40

slowly in grief. I

30:42

sat eyes glued to the

30:44

TV where the horror of our

30:47

town's experience spilled

30:50

relentlessly on every channel. Even

30:53

the British news rolled seen

30:55

after seen of places and

30:57

people I knew names

31:00

of the dead, accompanied by

31:03

passport sized photos filled every

31:05

page of the newspapers eyes

31:08

again following, watching

31:10

my every move compared

31:13

to the suffering around me. My

31:15

experience was lessened for I

31:17

was lucky. I was alive.

31:20

I had my limbs and my eyes still

31:22

saw I was home and not in

31:25

hospital like my friends. While

31:27

people were quick to tell their horrific

31:29

stories, mine peeled significantly

31:33

so I became silent. I

31:35

never spoke of the technical or dreams that

31:37

woke me sudden from my sleep,

31:40

or of the fact that I no longer knew

31:43

what was real and what was my imagination

31:46

of the reverberating energy

31:49

that made me feel that I existed in

31:51

a beehive. The incessant

31:53

buzzing deafening my ears to

31:56

the voices that spoke to me. I

31:59

got up from my bed each morning and

32:02

traveled to school where my A level

32:04

subjects could no longer engage

32:06

me. And I would walk out the

32:09

mere act of sitting still was

32:11

too much for my body to handle. I

32:14

would feel my breath caught

32:17

in a tight knot somewhere inside

32:19

and my head would swim, not

32:22

with thoughts, but with emptiness. Bubbles

32:25

of empty numbness popping

32:28

in my skull, Sundays

32:31

caused torment as the smell of roast

32:33

beef would worm its way into

32:35

my stomach and make it lurch, painfully

32:39

a sensory memory. Too difficult

32:41

to bear my rush to

32:43

the bathroom to divest my gut of torment

32:46

caused only consternation to my

32:48

parents. They didn't understand.

32:51

They couldn't, for their experience

32:54

was different to mine. They

32:57

hadn't been there. It

32:59

was November before I found that

33:01

I couldn't walk. My body became

33:03

riddled with pain, and the act of

33:05

moving forward became mountainous

33:08

. My friend summoned the

33:10

school nurse who asked what was wrong in

33:13

truth, I didn't know

33:16

it was she eyes full of recognition.

33:18

Who asked me where I was on August

33:21

15th. And when I told her, welcomed

33:23

me into the sanctuary of the

33:25

sick room where many empty IED

33:28

girls sat day after

33:30

day when they couldn't face the hustle of

33:32

the corridors or classrooms to

33:35

our parents. We weren't sick, so

33:38

we couldn't stay home. Not

33:40

that the school were understanding. I

33:43

was brought to the Vice principal's office where

33:45

I was berated for wasting my

33:48

academic potential. It

33:50

was moot. I couldn't

33:52

see a future. I saw

33:54

only death. It was everywhere.

33:57

People dying, pets

33:59

dying dead birds splayed

34:02

scarlet on the roads , tiny organs

34:05

strewn inches from their marbled

34:07

hosts. I wanted

34:09

to join them. I stepped

34:12

shakily into busy roads, eyes

34:14

clinched shut, head spinning

34:16

drunkenly with the hope that a car would smash

34:19

into me, releasing me from

34:21

the body that no longer seemed to

34:24

fit. They never did.

34:26

They swerved and honked and shouted,

34:29

and each time I felt a failure,

34:33

my friends would say that we had spoken and

34:35

I would not remember. I

34:37

would be asked why I would ignore them, when

34:40

in truth I never saw them. For

34:42

I was blank and numb. I

34:45

didn't care that my phone rarely rang,

34:47

or that I was no longer invited out

34:49

to drink and dance. I

34:52

blocked it all, became

34:54

a statue lifeless

34:57

in metal or cement or

35:00

mud. So

35:03

this piece is a true account of my experience

35:05

of the Oma bombing in August,

35:08

1998, when I was 17 years old, I'd

35:11

been advised to write about my experience

35:13

by psychotherapists, but it

35:15

took over 20 years for me

35:17

to feel ready to do it. I

35:20

submitted it to the meta worker as

35:22

I wanted it published in a quality literary

35:24

journal, but one not too

35:26

close to home. Being

35:29

a writer to me means everything as

35:31

I felt unable to write creatively for

35:33

many, many years . But

35:35

now I am at a place where I can write freely

35:38

and it feels amazing. I'm

35:40

incredibly lucky to have been published widely

35:42

over these past few years, mainly

35:45

with my flash fiction. For

35:47

me, being nominated for a Pushkar prize for

35:50

this essay is incredibly validating.

35:53

This is not fiction. It is

35:55

my story. Currently,

35:57

I am working on an idea for a novel, and

35:59

I am always writing flash fiction in

36:02

my spare moments. If I

36:04

could pick anything to write with, it

36:06

would be a gorgeously on Ornette quill

36:08

and a notebook with thick, smooth pages

36:11

and a musty smell like old

36:14

library books .

36:16

What a beautiful reading. Thank you, Marie

36:18

Louise . Your reading makes your words

36:20

sound even more poetic, and

36:22

also your voice is so soothing. I love it. I'm

36:26

amazed and honored that you chose to send your

36:28

work to us here at The Meadow Worker , because not only

36:30

is it beautiful writing, but

36:32

the subject is something so personal, and

36:34

I'm so glad that you felt our magazine could

36:37

be a home for your writing. What

36:39

I really loved about this piece is the way

36:41

Marie Louise wove together the present and

36:43

the past. I could really feel how

36:45

, um, the newer events brought up

36:48

memories of the, the past events

36:51

and , um, how that

36:53

really builds on the trauma.

36:55

So that was really well done in this piece.

36:59

Yeah, I remember having a

37:02

in-depth conversation about

37:04

this piece in one of our meetings

37:07

and talking about how , um,

37:10

the, the trauma isn't , um,

37:13

uh, or I should say the reaction to the trauma isn't

37:16

overdone because the voice in this piece

37:19

doesn't feel frantic. It's almost

37:21

as though , um, she

37:24

is distanced to

37:26

the events and is almost mechanically

37:29

reciting what had happened almost as

37:31

though the the speakers in

37:33

shock. And , and we thought that element was

37:36

, uh, very well done because

37:39

it feels very true and

37:41

, um, authentic. Mm .

37:44

Yeah. I think , um, for

37:46

a creative nonfiction piece

37:48

, um, because you are writing,

37:51

you know, from your own lived experiences,

37:53

it can be really, really hard to

37:56

find that balance where

37:58

you are able to translate

38:00

what is a catastrophic

38:03

, um, traumatic and

38:05

deeply historical in this sense

38:07

too , uh, event without

38:11

making it too thick for

38:14

a reader to be comfortable

38:16

sort of swallowing. And that's

38:18

what's really impressive with this piece.

38:21

Although the , and especially hearing her

38:23

read , uh, you really get

38:25

that emotional 10 intensity sort

38:28

of come forward just a little bit more.

38:30

Um, I really found it quite emotional

38:32

listening to her recounting the story. Mm-Hmm

38:35

. <affirmative> , I felt it emotional reading it too. Um

38:37

, but the fact that it isn't, isn't

38:40

honed in and focused on that. What it's

38:42

focused on is the relationship between

38:44

the individual experience and the

38:46

community experience, and

38:49

how that fits into a

38:51

bigger map of , of

38:53

life, you know, for, for

38:55

people in this community , um,

38:58

and using her own story

39:01

and sort of journey of coming to peace

39:03

with that as something that's sort

39:05

of empowering. You know, like I

39:07

feel like there is a very empowering

39:09

sort of message in , in around this

39:12

piece in dealing with

39:14

the confronting awful situation

39:17

of the bombing. You know, seeing how that's

39:20

affected and looking back on it, like you said, Elena

39:22

, from different perspectives

39:25

and , and in the author's timeline

39:27

, um, despite

39:29

dealing with such a traumatic

39:31

event, there is a takeaway

39:33

message from this for readers

39:36

that is instilled with hope for

39:38

the future that is instilled with , um,

39:42

coming to peace with all

39:45

the different elements that kind of go on

39:47

within oneself and what that

39:49

might enable the author to

39:51

be able to do. Now she's had that internal

39:54

resolve and moving forward,

39:56

you know, once, once the dust has sort of

39:58

settled , um, both physically

40:01

, uh, obviously in , in

40:03

history as well, but also in that internal

40:06

emotional sort of relationship.

40:08

I think that's really powerful.

40:10

Yeah. And I think , uh,

40:13

to add to that, the author's

40:15

own words about , um, how

40:18

we now recognize the importance of mental

40:20

health and trauma and for that mm-Hmm . <affirmative> , I

40:22

am glad. I feel like that

40:24

kind of sums up the entire

40:27

point, you know, that there's

40:29

, uh, this freedom to talk about the

40:31

experience as the author mentions

40:34

and how that can

40:36

be healing. And , um, I

40:39

I really hope that this story does that

40:41

and so much more. Mm-Hmm,

40:42

<affirmative> , yeah, it's,

40:45

it's important to talk about it because it's,

40:48

what I also liked about this piece is that even

40:50

though the author herself wasn't

40:53

harmed, it still brings to light

40:56

the repercussions of

40:59

having to deal with that threat.

41:02

And so even if the scars

41:04

are not physical, they're

41:07

still scars. And like

41:09

both of you have been saying, they

41:14

take time to heal. And

41:16

so being able to process that

41:19

through this writing and

41:22

kind of examining the details

41:24

as closely as is needed , um,

41:28

is, is really helpful both

41:30

for the, I , I imagine

41:32

for the writer, but also for

41:34

the reader who may have also gone

41:36

through something like this or similar.

41:40

So it, it helped just

41:42

knowing that you're not the only one going

41:44

through this. Like, kind of like what

41:46

you were saying too , curid , that it's

41:49

something that you have to go through as

41:51

a community , um, to kind

41:53

of help each other through. So

41:56

I, I appreciated that this

41:59

piece took the time to

42:01

delve into that. Yeah. And did

42:03

it so beautifully. So

42:06

that's a wrap on episode one. Thank

42:09

you to Amita Marie , Louise and

42:11

Daniel for submitting

42:14

your beautiful pieces to our magazine. And

42:16

we hope you, our listeners, enjoyed

42:19

this episode.

42:21

Want to know more about our featured authors?

42:24

Check out the links in description

42:26

and read their full publication on

42:28

our website . We hope you'll

42:30

join us for part two, featuring

42:33

Chris Cooper, Linda Lacey , and

42:35

Frank Ngugi .

42:38

Do you think you have a peace worthy of a pushup?

42:40

With our new team of exceptional

42:42

first readers, our submissions are

42:45

open to even more talented assessors.

42:48

Head over to do a Soma to submit

42:50

your next great piece of craftsmanship.

42:53

We can't wait to read it.

42:54

Thank you to all of our nominees

42:57

for the Push Cart Award. We found

42:59

your work to be wonderful, and

43:01

we look forward to seeing more

43:03

work from you. Good luck

43:05

to you. Uh , this may when the

43:08

winners are announced, we, of course, are cheering

43:10

for you. And yay,

43:13

thank you for all of our readers, and

43:15

please keep sending us your wonderful

43:17

work.

43:18

From all of us at the Metalworker . Happy

43:20

writing and happy reading.