Michael Bloor has a wonderful gift that allows him to inform and yet be personal at the same time. This is evident in the many Sunday articles he has written for us, and within his prose as well.
This week’s rerun is Mick’s Jack o’ Diamonds. In less skilled hands it might have come out saccharine, but not here. It is moving and it connects on a human level, which, for me, is the purpose of art.
We now ask the author himself to share his feelings about his story.
***
And now over to the author:
Afraid I can’t remember the circumstances under which I wrote this. I wrote the bones of it quite a while ago, but I thought it was a bit too slight and set it aside. Then, a couple of years ago, I added the first paragraph, the fictional history of ‘Daleforge’ and that seemed to me to ground it enough to send it off.
There are fragments of me in amongst all the fiction, probably because it’s easier to recall than invent. So I did indeed leave home to work in the Channel Islands for a beach cafe. I was the cafe’s deckchair attendant; the chairs had a deposit on them, so I didn’t even have to collect ’em up in the evening. Wonderful: if it had been a year-round job I’d still be there.
And of course, the piece centres on the relationship with my dad. We became very close after my mum died. There’s only bits of him in the story, just as there’s only bits of me. He didn’t play the banjo, but he was a self-taught pianist who could readily pick out a tune he’d heard on the radio. He was a good man and it’s my pleasure to celebrate him in this piece.
literally stories 
Thank you Mick for your great story and comments. In all sincerity, you did both of your parents proud.
Leila
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Thanks, Leila, that’s a very kind remark which gave me a big lift. If I may say so, it’s also an example of the kindliness shown by all three editors to their writers. bw mick
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Mick
I really admire how all your work focuses on the human elements and moments of life, and how it eschews all fancy “tricks” and entrapments of creative writing, like hackneyed plot devices, tried-and-true methods of presenting stereotypical characters we’ve all seen before in a million bad TV shows, or so-called “well-rounded” endings where the good guys and the bad guys all get what they deserve, and we’ve all seen this a million times before in other places, so we’re all really comfortable with it and it doesn’t cause anyone to think at all, only to confirm them in their comfy assumptions so they can go back to taking another nap after the show is over.
Instead, your work focuses on the REAL DETAILS of life, the moments that might really have happened (even if they didn’t, really), all the “small” moments that add up to what life really is, an endless series of revelations and developments, where the final answer never really arrives, unless that happens at the very end.
James Joyce started a revolution in prose writing, when he stopped writing about all the fake and artificial moments most fiction had currently been about, and started writing about nothing but the Real, Human Moments of it all which we all experience. His story collection DUBLINERS, which is easy, and not difficult, to read, is an eternal example of that.
You have a Joyce-like way of focusing on the EVERYDAY MOMENTS of life, so your kind of writing carries a truth within it which is sadly lacking in most of the prose which gets written these days. Bravo! I also like the name of the town!
Dale
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Thanks, Dale. It’s a long time since I read ‘Dubliners’ & ‘Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man;’ you’ve made me think I should take another look at them. Incidentally, I followed up your recommendation on Dante. Afraid I just bought the penguin edition (translated by Robin Kirkpatrick) because it was the only one in the shop, but I’m galloping through it with great enjoyment. Maybe at some point I’ll also try the Longfellow translation, another guy that I’ve not read for many many years. bw mick
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I think I like this even better the second time around. It seems so real I wondered if it was narrative nonfiction until I read Mick’s comments. The reunion at the end is heartwarming. The title is perfect…. There are a lot of diamonds in this piece.
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Wow! Thank you so much, David. I’m very grateful.bw mick
ps. On realism, Hugh will tell you that Prestwick Airport really was the only place in the UK that Elvis visited. There’s even an Elvis Bar there.
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Mick
It’s like sitting at a parent’s knee or bellied up to the bar with a friend. Or your Da. The story is not filleted, stuffed, and perfected, but told LIVE.
Like a story! — Gerry
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That’s a very cheering comment: first person narrative was exactly the effect I was striving for – thanks, Gerry! bw mick
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Thanks, Gerry. That’s indeed what I was trying for a narration-type narrative. Pleased that you thought it was a credible attempt. mick
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Thanks, Gerry. You’re right I was aiming for a live-narration-type of first-person narrative. Glad you think I might’ve got it right. bw mick
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The story makes me think about the next industrial revolution – this time people replaced by AI and intelligent robots.
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It’s a grim prospect, Doug, but I expect you’re right. Odd to think that when I first worked in an office I was captivated by an adding machine. thanks for commenting.
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Mick, I love this story. The detail and attention you give your background stories is wonderful. I got completely caught up in this town and the family, as someone said, it is moving but not weepily nostalgic. Poignant insight between a son and his father. The prose is also economic and lyrical at the same time, like: “desolate as a snowflake dissolving in a muddy puddle” and “…a natural left-footer.”
There is a lot I recognize in this piece. And there is a lot to learn from this piece.
I did not see this the first time around so I’m glad it got a re-run.
my best, Maria
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Thanks, Maria. I’m pleased the piece resonated with you – what more can an author wish for? I only came across LS five years ago myself, so I too really like the re-runs feature. bw mick
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Thanks Maria. I confess I was chuffed this was chosen for a re-run. Like you, I was a late-comer to LS and so the re-runs are a great opportunity to catch up on stuff that I’ve missed. bw mick
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Thanks, Doug. You’re right, of course, it’s already started. Two hundred years ago, the handloom weavers (‘The Luddites’) began a guerilla campaign to smash the new weaving machines. Too bad it didn’t work.
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Mistake: my comment sent to story page.
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No problem
Either way is great!
Leila
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Hi Mick,
It was brilliant to see this one get another day in the sunshine.
I was interested to read your comment, ‘It’s easier to recall than invent.’
I am somewhat similar, maybe not so much with my own personal experience, more what I’ve seen and heard. In a way that keeps a sincerity in the writing.
It’s always a pleasure my fine friend and as always, I hope you have more for us very soon!!
All my best to you and yours.
Hugh
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Thanks, Hugh. Unsurprisingly, you’ve made a good point here: recall of actual events/conversations/etc does indeed ‘keep a sincerity in the writing’.bw mick
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Thanks, Hugh. You make a very good point: recall of experience/seen/heard helps to keep ‘a sincerity in the writing.’ Imagination alone may sometimes be too cerebral. bw mick
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I remember this one well, and it still connects with me a great deal – as does much of your writing. I too am very much influenced by my own life and struggle to write anything purely fictional. I equally have a love of the local, simple, and everyday, and your prose is superb. A moving joy to read.
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Thanks, Paul. For a reader to feel a connection is a great boost to any writer. Thanks again and best wishes for your own writing. mick
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