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astronicht · 18 days

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Incomplete list of stuff that made me go apeshit reading Fellowship for the first time, medievalist edition (part II)

Part I here. Disclaimer: this is for fun!

Love that people keep stressing that they are going to the ELVES for COUNCIL. Old English names, especially among the rulers of Wessex, Northumbria, Mercia, etc, were often Elf Theme Names, one of the most famous and enduring of which is Alfred. Written the old way, Ælfræd or Ælfred (as in Alfred the Great), means Elf-Council, aka "counseled by elves". In their hearts... everyone wants to be Alfred... possibly this is only funny 2 me.

Tom Bombadil doing a training montage in the fucking magic system of Middle Earth?? He teaches Frodo to recite a poem that will summon him, Tom Bombadil, in times of need! Frodo gets kidnapped by undead wights in a barrow (like many a good young person in an Old Norse saga before him) and dutifully recites this magic poem. Frodo learned Recite Magic Poem! TOM BOMBADIL SMASHES THRU THE WALL OF THE BARROW LIKE THE KOOL-ADE MAN AND RECITES A BIGGER, STRONGER POEM??

At this point I gave up on trying to be normal about anything. As such, I'm pausing on Tom Bombadil again.

It helped (?? not psychologically) that Tom Bombadil recited something that felt a bit familiar, when he banished the wights. It's not anything like a direct translation, if indeed it bears any purposeful resemblance to the actual recorded medieval galdor called Against a Wen. Regardless, Against a Wen is an okay?? example of what a spoken word magic poem would look like, and why it's similar to what Tom Bombadil (and later Gandalf and others) do. Left screenshot is Bombadil against a barrow-wight. Right is Against a Wen, in English translation. (a wen was possibly a skin ailment, like a mole or a cancer). Banishing to/beyond the hills and shrivelling are the apparent themes. You don't have to follow me on this one, much less agree. Frankly this is the point I went off the deep end, probably.

Galdor can also protect! This just happens to be a banishment.

Gollum got exiled (the worst thing the early medieval and apparently proto-hobbit law could do to you) but not even for murder. No one found out about the murder. He just sucked.

ALSO Gollum lied and said that his matriarch (who exiled him) gave him the Ring. This implies it was plausible she'd give out rings, implying female ring-giver (standard role of a king). This is mentioned once and never again. ok!!

One last fun fact about galdor: it is the word at the end of "nightingale" isn't that lovely? Luthien's name in-universe means nightingale. This is fine!

I spent a lot of time researching Aragorn's favorite rock. I love these books. If I recall correctly it's a real rock! but possibly. just a cool rock.

#astro lotr #this one is less fun than part 1 but i like having a sort of cheat sheet for myself!!#frankly even i am not sure what some of my mid-read posts are talking about

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secretunknownwonderland · 2 years

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#本科办理NU硕士毕业成绩单Q/薇28013 71829办理诺桑比亚大学本科/硕士学生ID卡offer录取通知书 #办Northumbria学生ID卡/offer录取通知书 #办Northumbria【本科毕业成绩单】#办Northumbria硕士毕业成绩单/留信认证 #ECE认证/WES认证Northumbria University Diploma

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hikaruchen · 1 month

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Prayer from the Pagan

I did it I finished it ughhhhh This scene has stuck in my mind for so long and I just thought that something should have been done, so this happened.

And I even wrote a fic for it. Haha. Help.

Some details for archaeology nerds:

The pattern on the pillow is from the circular brooch found in the Pentney hoard, which was located in East Anglia at the time. In contrast of the celtic brooches worn by vikings, which we are more familiar with, this type of brooches were the one anglo-saxon nobles commonly wore. This one was dated around AD800-840, made in Trewhiddle style, popular in the period Alfred lived in, and it is now in the British Museum.

And the cross on the ground is from the pectoral cross found in the Galloway hoard, which at the time was in Northumbria. It was also built in Trewhiddle style, dated around AD900, now in National Museums Scotland, and despite not looking obvious on the picture it was actually made in silver!

And the whole tomb effigy thing—ok, it was not a thing until mid-11th century but since there was one in the tlk universe I just went yolo, lol. I think what the crew took as a reference was the one for Æthelstan, but that was built in 15th century and Æthelstan himself isn’t there, so yeah, that didn’t exist during the time they lived.

More explanation concerning this topic is in the notes of the fic!

#alfred x uhtred #the last kingdom #tlk alfred #uhtred x alfred #alhtred #it actually took me 25 hours to finish this which is…insane #art block is a bitch lol #I don’t think we’re shown enough of Uhtred mourning Alfred scenes so here it is!#btw not necessarily related to the contents but happy St. Patrick’s day!#hikaruchen #hikaru tlk

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downthetubes · 2 years

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Upstream Image exhibition at Gallery North examines environmental impact of digital creativity

Upstream Image, explores the journey a digital image must go through before reaching our screen – and the environmental impact this has

A series of contemporary art exhibitions exploring cultures, communities and environments has launched at Northumbria University’s newly refurbished Gallery North. The first, Upstream Image, explores the journey a digital image must go through before reaching our screen – and the environmental impact this has. Gallery North is an experimental space featuring exhibitions, talks, seminars,…

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#Digital Comics #downthetubes News #Exhibition News #Gallery North #Northumbria University #Paul Dolan #Upstream Image

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angelsworks · 6 months

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Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing

Chapter One

Series Masterlist -> Here

Pairing: Yandere! Uhtred x reader

Summary: After hearing of a Lord in need of help, Uhtred and his allies investigate.

Warning: None for this chapter

Note: This series is inspired by the S3 E1 of The Last kingdom. Only if the witch Uhtred takes captive is innocent.

A simple job. That’s what it was supposed to be.

Word had spread from taverns in towns up and down Northumbria, the current territory Uhtred and his men found themselves in. Word passed from Patron to barmaid, barmaid to townsfolk, townsfolk to Uhtred and his allies.

The travelling Lord had attracted quite the audience at the latest town they’d come across. He’d been welcomed and housed, clothed and bathed, fed and watered. Watered with the finest ale the towns little tavern had to offer.

The size of the tavern lead to the horde of curious townsfolk to be crammed in tightly to one another. Elbows to elbows they sat. Words of one man being heard by many.

The close proximity of the masses had Uhtred lending his ear to a raving drunkard. A man who drank his ale between loud shouts of a troubled Lord far north, who was desperately in need of help. Despite the clumsy nature of his swigs, he continued to tell his tale as he drank. Spinning the story that this lord was overrun with Danes desperate to take his holdings. They worked closely with a supposed sorceress who had been cursing the Lord and his men. Rumours spread that she had killed the current lords father through a curse. The lord now desperate to end the wicked sorceress had appealed for help. For the task of ridding the Lord of the Danes and witch they worked with, he would reward handsomely.

After quiet whispers between the four and a back alley chat with the teller of the tale, the group left for Upper Northumbria. The place where Lord Ironwood resided with his apparent hefty fortune.

The lord that the met was younger than Uhtred and some years older than Osferth. He made no kind introduction. He was direct about his task and clear about the price.

Despite his harsh nature he did provide for them with prime meats and mead to be shared inside his fort. Uhtred and his men were permitted to light a fire that they sat around to eat.

The fort itself was well thought out. It has large walls with guards walking across. At each corner a watchtower of sorts was built. Inside the Fort there were the very basic of buildings. A stable for the few horses they had, a small square that acted as a meeting point, a town hall and a barracks. A final building off to the side of the town hall they’d come to learn was Lord Ironwoods own residence.

The simplicity of the facilities was far from the problem. It was the run down nature of the buildings and sense of unease that surrounded them. Stone bricks of the wall were weathered and beaten, as if attacked through years of war and rain. Some of the wood on the buildings showed signs of Charing and had blackened because of it. The few horses they did have were in poor health and looked unkept. It felt as if the Fort had been attacked ten times over with the damage seen in every place. It seemed as if their Dane problem was vastly understated. It was clear now that more was going on than they originally thought.

Everything they’d seen lead them to the same thoughts, where was the gold? Surely if this Lord Ironwood had such funds he would spend them wisely. So they he didn’t have to live in such squalor.

When Uhtred brought these thoughts to the Lord in question he directed them to a hidden set of stairs behind the town hall. Stairs covered by bushes and protected by a wooden hatch. A wooden hatch protected with a thick metal padlock. The only key was wrapped on twine around the Lord’s throat.

The stairs lead them to a small room filled with chests. After opening one of the chests they saw an array of coins and trinkets and jewellery. The golden currency accepted universally by the group.

Even with the promise of payment, thoughts of unease still plagued Lord Uhtred’s mind. Why with such wealth was the job not done? Surely he had enough resources to rid himself of the Danes.

Uhtred wasn’t alone in his thoughts. Finan, Sihtric and Osferth sat around the fire, chewing on fresh game while mulling over the task at hand.

“While I’m with you on some details being a bit blurry Lord Uhtred, the man provides a good meal and good gold for killing a few Danes. Something you’ve often done for free.” Finan reasons while tearing into a leg of rabbit.

“It’s details that are missing from the man’s story. Things that just don’t add up.” He tells the Irishman in reply. Drinking a tankard of ale in small enough sips.

“Listen Lord, sometimes details get muddled when telling stories. Once I heard of a woman with such huge breasts, yet when I slept with her-” The Irishman digresses. Ready to jump into a story of his past conquests. A pass time not out of the ordinary for the man.

“Finan,” the Dane starts, cutting off the Irishman. “This is more than that. I feel it in my gut. Something about this is wrong. Something about this Lord is wrong.”

“I’d say it’s the taste of good food for the first time in a while mate.” Finan jokes, raising a smile from the quiet monk and the bastard Dane also in their company.

“He pays more than most Lord. Stories are bound to have holes with the amount of men they’ve been through.” Sihtric adds causing Finan to laugh and producing a chortle from Osferth that he quickly covers.

Normally Uhtred would find humour in anything his company would say. The men joke as often as they drink. The two often simultaneous done. When not fighting their time was spent enjoying the spoils that came with his Lordship. Including his permanent home in Coocham, the barrels of ale they were given for free and the many, many women found willing at the taverns they frequented.

Even so he was no young man anymore. No war hungry Dane, desperate to make his mark on the land he’d called home for so long. He had a home, a place to rest after weeks of ridding aback a steed and sleeping in beds not his own. It was a luxury he couldn’t spoil through the desires greed presented.

“I am a lord and you my noble men,” the sentiment made Finan smirk. Feeling anything but noble sat in a crumbling town hall and drinking piss weak mead.

“We are no mercenaries.”

The weight the words held resonated with each man. True they were not mercenaries. Mercenaries didn’t have a permanent place to rest in Coocham. Mercenaries didn’t have a sense of comradeship like these four men had. Years spent together had proven their loyalty to one another and created tight bonds they valued more than any amount of gold. It wasn’t to be thrown away over some Lord.

The three men sat silently as they drank from their tankards. Ale pouring down their throats as they mulled over their Lord and more importantly friend’s words. Deciding whether Lord Ironwoods gold truly had any value to them now.

The next day the four travelled out into the surrounding area. After trotting down the small hill that the fort sat on, they reached a woodland. Dense woodland that surrounded the Fort on three sides. A disadvantage if any enemies were to to hide in and surround the fort. Thoughts of a siege passed through Uhtred’s mind. Thoughts that soured as he thought of the little food Lord Ironwood possessed. Land around his holding was unfit to grow a weed nevermind a yield of crops. From the meal they shared last night it became apparent that the woodland was heavily relied upon for small game or food or any kind.

“The hill gives us the advantage if it comes to a fight, but the surrounding Forrest is thick enough to hide a host of any size.” Sihtric voices, having thought the same as Uhtred at the scenery.

“Hill? I’ve seen mounds of dirt bigger that that thing. Just say what we’re all thinking, that if it comes to a fight the fort would hold no host back. A host of page boys and age old knights could storm that fort.” Finan proclaims.

“Ever the optimist, Finan the Agile.” Osferth quips, sarcasm thick in his quiet voice. It works to ease the tension among them but doesn’t remove the ever hanging unease present in the air. The fort would be futile to defend and the men can’t help but feel that their task is becoming less and less do able.

“Still we carry on. Ironwood told us they’d been attacking from the east. So we ride there, see if we can catch sight of these Danes and get an idea of their forces.” Uhtred commands.

They carry on in the direction of the Dane’s. Traveling through the never ending trees. Even when they think they’ve made it through they reach a clearing or open field, surrounded by more trees. It seems never ending.

At one point Uhtred stops the pack. A distant sound puts him on high alert. The joining of voices can be heard in the distance. From there they dismount their horses and walk on foot. Treading carefully through the Forrest undergrowth. Voice grow louder and music can be heard. A single harp cuts the voices as they quiet in union. Soft music fills the air, a contrast to the loud choir that preceded it. It lasts little before it comes to its final note and is swept up in the chorus once more. This time in a company with the beating of drums. Drums that almost shake the ground the men now walk on.

Keeping a few tree rows back they silently watch the scene before them. A vast settlement meets their eyes. It reminds Uhtred and Sihtric alike of their childhood homes. Both houses and building being mostly the same. It’s clear this is a Dane village, not only from the buildings but from the people that reside here.

In front of their hiding place in the Forrest a celebration of sorts takes place. In the middle of the social space a large fire roars on, filling the air with a smoke and the distinct burning wood smell. Around the fire the Dane’s dance carelessly, faces content and worries non. To the sides makeshift benches have been made from tree logs and boulders. The space is brimming with people. Some sharing a meal or mead, others talking joyously to one another. The celebration is exuding euphoria. A feeling that almost spreads to the men crouched amongst bushes.

The voices quiet once more as the single harp plays on. Between the sea of people a woman steps out amongst them. Wearing a white gown and no shoes, her hair wild and free. Her face bares lines of ash on her forehead and down the middle of her chin. Her voice carries across the fire above all the rest.

“Hear us Odin, hear our prayer,” she pulls a knife from her side and slits her hand across the palm.

“Grant us victory against our the Saxon scum so we may lay waste to their crumbling Fort and kill the Lord that sits there.” As she finishes she flicks her blood into the fire and the flames become viridescent.

The green flames dance higher in the air. Leaping up into the sky as more smoke rises with it. Consuming the logs at the base with greater vigour than before. It raises cheers from those around the fire and they start back up in song.

Voices join in one chorus:

Dance the emerald flames up high

Find our fallen in the sky

Hear our cry and hear our prayer

Death to Saxons everywhere

The chilling undertone does little to take from the merriment of the people singing. They all smile, dance and laugh as the flames slowly fade from emerald back to a burning orange.

Across the fire the girl walks around the dancers and the singers and the drinkers. She walks to a man sat off to the side on a makeshift throne. Made from the stump of a tree. Carved with runes and symbols familiar to most Danes.

The man is clearly Dane. His beard is long and his hair braided. His eyes are dark and his face stern. He spreads himself to take up the entirety of the throne. Looking unmoved by the jovial mood around him.

When the girl approaches him his eyes glance up. Taking in her toned form adorned in a white. A smile ghosts his face as he welcomes her on to his lap. Pulling her so she sits with her back to one of the arm rests.

She nestles into the man’s embrace, hiding herself away. While the Dane looks over her cut palm.

Without explanation Uhtred feels a tug at his heart. As if he’d lost a love, a love he’d not yet known. Strange as it was he couldn’t explain it. Explain why such a sight made him intrigued, made him curious about the girl. Why the nature of their embrace made him jealous, made him envious. Why the dress that clung to her skin filled him with a yearning, filled him with a desire for her.

For her body, for her soul, for her.

The feeling strange but the feeling right. Something about her drew him in. Fate was the only answer. It was clear now. This was fate.

This girl would be his.

#The last kingdom Poly #angelsworks post #dark #yandere uhtred #uhtred of bebbanburg x reader #uhtred x reader #uhtred the last kingdom #uhtred ragnarsson x reader

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fwftf · 7 months

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Using mycelium to create a self-healing wearable leather-like material

A pair of biotechnologists at Newcastle University, working with a colleague from Northumbria University, all in the U.K., have developed a way to use mycelium to create a self-healing wearable material. In their paper published in the journal Advanced Functional Materials, Elise Elsacker, Martyn Dade-Robertson and Meng Zhang, describe their process and how well it worked when tested. Mycelium is…

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#biodesign #biomaterials #mycelium #new materials #wearables

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spacetimewithstuartgary · 10 months

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Unveiling Jupiter’s upper atmosphere A North East planetary astronomer has been granted rare access to the world’s largest deep-space telescope, providing him with a unique opportunity to discover more about the largest planet in our solar system – Jupiter. Launched in December 2021, NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope (JWST) uses infrared radiation to look deep into space, meaning it can observe the first stars and even the formation of the first galaxies. Now Professor Tom Stallard, of Northumbria University, has been awarded a highly sought after opportunity to use the JWST later this year, allowing him to further his research into Jupiter’s atmosphere. This is only the second year scientists have been given the chance to request access to the telescope, and with fierce competition from across the world, Professor Stallard’s observation is the only one chosen this year which will focus on a planet within our solar system. He and his co-investigator Dr Henrik Melin, of the University of Leicester, will use their time to examine Jupiter’s ionosphere – the planet’s upper atmosphere – and how it is impacted by the space environment above it, and Jupiter’s lower atmosphere below. As Professor Stallard explains: “The ionosphere is a very interesting layer because it is buffeted by massive systems surrounding it – with energy pushed up from below and solar winds and volcanic activity from Jupiter’s moons affecting it from above. “We have some existing images and data of the bright aurora at Jupiter’s poles, captured through ground-based observation from here on Earth, but data and images of the equatorial region are much harder to achieve. “Although Jupiter appears very different to Earth there is actually much we can learn about our own planet by studying Jupiter. The processes going on are very similar, but Jupiter’s magnetic field is much stronger, and stranger. “Time on the James Webb Space Telescope is rare – and time to study planets within our solar system is even rarer, so to be given this opportunity is incredibly exciting.” Professor Stallard’s access to the JWST will take place on 7 September and has been timed perfectly to coincide with the positioning of the Juno NASA space probe, which orbits Jupiter. This means he will be able to compare the images taken from the JWST, which is positioned between the Earth and the Sun looking towards Jupiter, with measurements from Juno, positioned behind Jupiter and looking back at Earth. Professor Stallard added: “The images we are going to get from the James Webb Space Telescope will be profoundly wonderful, I’m sure. “We’ve already had a taster of what to expect following an early observation by my colleague Dr Melin, which suggests there is science going on within Jupiter’s atmosphere which we simply don’t have any understanding about yet, and there is a lot of excitement within the community of scientists studying upper atmospheres about what the images we get from the telescope will tell us.” Professor Stallard’s success in being awarded time with the JWST during this latest cycle, helps secure the North East region’s reputation as a hub for space technology research and innovation. Members of Northumbria University’s Solar and Space Physics research group collaborate extensively with partners including UK Research and Innovation, the UK Space Agency, the European Space Agency, the UK Met Office, and over 40 industrial partners. And last year global aerospace and security company, Lockheed Martin, announced a collaboration with Northumbria University that includes a £630,000 investment to support the development of skills, research and technology across the region. Speaking about Professor Stallard’s success, Professor Louise Bracken, Pro Vice-Chancellor (Research and Knowledge Exchange) at Northumbria University commented: “Securing access to the James Webb Space Telescope is a highly competitive process and is a testament to the quality and timeliness of the research that Professor Stallard undertakes. “This award underlines and builds on the existing work of our Solar and Space Physics researchers at Northumbria University and cements the North East’s reputation as a centre of excellence in this field.”

#space #science #Astronomy #physics #news #Jupiter #nasa #esa #james webb space telescope

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medievalistsnet · 2 months

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#medieval #england

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invisibleicewands · 1 month

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“In every room I go into, every office, every institution, people tell me, this is what we’re doing to encourage more working-class writers. They reel off all the things they’re doing, and it sounds impressive, it sounds amazing. And you think: if all these people are doing all this, WHY ARE THINGS NOT CHANGING FASTER? WHAT IS GETTING IN THE WAY?”

Under the hot, bright lights of a packed-out auditorium at the 2024 London Book Fair, Michael Sheen is getting angry. His is an unthreatening, crowd-rousing kind of angry, but still, in an appropriate way – he’s mad.

The actor and philanthropist is speaking on a panel convened to discuss A Writing Chance, the programme co-founded by the actor with New Writing North and Northumbria University that helps working-class writers enter the writing industries. So far, the programme has been successful. The theme emerging on the panel is, if changes have been made in some areas, what’s holding things back in others? And what cultural changes might have to come before we solve the problem?

“You have to admit there’s a fundamental conflict between the system that’s set up, and what we’re trying to achieve,” says Michael. “I don’t know what the whole answer to that is, other than revolution.”

It says a lot about the mood in the room – and, we suspect, the rest of the country – that the laughs prompted by this conclusion feel rather approving. We firmly believe that elites have been hogging and hoarding opportunity for too long now. The support for A Writing Chance confirms that many, many people agree.

The initiative was launched in 2021, with 11 unpublished writers awarded places on a programme of support and mentoring. One, Tom Newlands, publishes his first novel this summer; another, Maya Jordan, signed a deal at the book fair. A new cohort will be selected soon, with the programme now supported by the Joseph Rowntree Foundation, the Esmée Fairbairn Foundation, Michael Sheen, the Charlotte Aitken Trust, Faber & Faber, The Daily Mirror, Substack, Audible, with research supported by AHRC, Northumbria University, Bath Spa University and York St John University.

For the London Book Fair panel, Michael is joined by Professor Katy Shaw from Northumbria University, plus Tracey Markham, head of UK at Audible, Farrah Storr, head of writer partnerships at Substack, and the Huddersfield-based novelist Sunjeev Sahota. Katy and Michael begin by reflecting on the successes of the first completed programme: writers emboldened and published, policymakers in the Houses of Parliament briefed and, most importantly, great writing exemplifying the talent out there waiting to be discovered. “What came in was just way beyond anything we had hoped for really,” says Michael. “And there was a sense of revelation, the feeling you were seeing into worlds that have just been closed off, into experiences I had never thought about.”

Ideas about how to give working-class writers more confidence and access to publishing are peppered through the hour-long conversation: a creative curriculum in schools; intervening with gifted people at younger ages, like sports coaches; encouraging more people to take advantage of digital platforms, even if printed-book authorship remains the ultimate goal. Around halfway through, Sunjeev makes a brilliantly clear-eyed analysis of what being working class really means, and how it relates to identity politics. At the same time, he provides a devastatingly simple explanation of why working-class writers need support.

“Publishing is an elite space, but it’s quite a diverse space in terms of people’s racialised or sexualised identities. However, it’s not at all diverse it comes to people’s economic backgrounds, or family income. Indeed, many of the non-white people I encounter in publishing are often from just as comfortably-off backgrounds as their white counterparts.

The creative industries, he says, have tended to treat class as being another cultural identity, as if class should be considered in the same way that we might talk about race, gender, or sexuality. “But I think a more universal, class-first politics will do more for the weakest members across all identities than any identity-first kind of politics. I find that taking an identity-first approach just tends to benefit the elites within the identities.”

Lest anyone doubt the existence of a market for work originating outside the elites, the extremely upbeat Tracey is on hand to reassure them. Audible attracts a notably diverse audience, with large black and Asian listenerships, and a high proportion of young men. To satisfy this audience, the old-style audiobook, with its middle- and highbrow titles and Received Pronunciation narration, has been overhauled in favour of books more suited to audience tastes, and accents.

“Our customers really want accents! We spend a lot of time working with voice agents to widen access to the audio-narration industry. I think what’s super-important now is that your accent is not prohibitive – if you have a Welsh accent, say, that doesn’t mean you can only read stories set in Wales.”

Tracey stresses there is “so much more to be done” to widen socio-economic diversity in the whole publishing industry. But although it might still be a case of taking “baby steps”, a wonderful thing about books is their power to drive change elsewhere. “You know, it’s hard to explain to someone that’s not from the UK how much your accent kind of signifies to people when they first meet you. And with voice, we can kind of break down a lot of those barriers, and actually encourage it and welcome [diversity].”

There’s a similar note of flexibility and responsiveness to audience needs in Farrah’s account of what Substack offers. The relationship between digital and print is always evolving, and in her vision, it’s a question of the one complementing the other. Printed books still have more prestige than publication on digital platforms, but the latter can help offset the material challenges associated with the former, she argues. Echoing Sunjeev, she points that “the problem for people from a working-class background is that your advance gets paid in separate lump sums. People feel, I don’t have a regular income, I can’t make this work, I might end up falling out of the writer ecosystem.

“So, on Substack, we say, well, okay, you’re writing the book, but you’re probably going to have thousands of words leftover. So just put them on Substack and talk about the novel at the same time.”

Lots of people she works with end up making liveable incomes and building readerships for their work, which ultimately is what keeps them in the game. It’s a reminder that we shouldn’t necessarily define “writing” as the production of traditional forms such as novels and plays.

No one at this event – the queue for which was so long that dozens were unable to squeeze inside – believed all the barriers facing working-class writers would be dismantled any time soon. Few, though, can have left without believing that A Writing Chance has begun the job – and that that job is worthwhile.

Wrapping up, Michael recalls someone from the inaugural group who told him that in their community, becoming a writer seemed about as likely as becoming an astronaut.

“They said that there was no chance of it. They said, ‘I didn’t know anybody else who lived where I live who was a writer, so I didn’t know how to begin, or where to start. It was like saying I want to go into space.’ But that changed for them.

“And of course, now, there are all these wonderful spacemen.”

#Michael Sheen #The London Book Fair #interview #A Writing Chance

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