Well -Vinding to Spinoff Books Confessional, in which we know the reading habits of the writers and guests of Aotearoa. This week: Mairātea Mohi (Te Arawa, Te Whānau -?-Apanui), publishing Associate Te Reo Maori at Auckland University Press.
The book I would like to write
As a publisher, I know that writing a book is no little-one is a jacket with everything that consumes and borderly. Some authors disappear in their caves for years, emerging only to flash the sun like scared skunk. Others don’t stop talking about the book or the project – which, most of the time, never sees the light of day. The necessary focus sometimes seems a form of self -inflicted madness. Love them for pieces, but I’m not fully sold for putting myself for it.
However, if I I had To be part of a creative team, I would like to be responsible for Horrible stories – Both the books and the TV show. It is history, but funnier, more confusing and occasionally more traumatizing than the real thing. Now it’s not so accurate ~! (Iykyk).
Everyone should read
More fan fiction. More indie publication. More stories of small smaller ones with the great impact.
There is a kind of magic in these spaces. Small editors and independent writers do what big players can’t – they talk among cracks, capturing the voices, perspectives and stories that could otherwise be unpublished. They shape the literary world in bold, unpredictable ways and exactly what we need.
I grew up in Wattpad and Tumblr, where the narrative was raw, immediate and absolutely chaotic. Some of my first writing attempts involved very Questionable Requests Boy Band K-Pop Fanfic. But in those messy, non-polished songs, I found 200-part gold-typicals written by teen superfan on a school night, stories that bend of gender that would fall into the history of AO3 and writers spilling their hearts for free, just because they I had To tell their story.
So tell this fan to start writing. Take more independent books. And for the love of a good narrative, spend your money on local stories.
The book I want to be buried with
My Koro kept a great diary This contains the stories of our Whmen, our Whakapapa and the Pūrākau tied to our land. Over the years, he has gone through many hands, each of us adding our own piece. It is a treasure of wisdom, with a karakia or a tohī for all occasions of worldly like a house blessing to the deep Tapu, such as aborting nonwhānau land.
There is only one copy in the world and in a perfect setting, I would take me to the tomb. But I could not do this with our future URI.
Otherwise, give me a I spy Book and I should be sweet. I just need something to spend the right time?
The first book I remember reading alone
My mother read me a lot as a child, so I don’t remember changing her voice to my own inner voice. Although I remember slowly becoming increasingly impatient when I could read, simply because she wasn’t doing it fast enough!
When I think of my first memories with books, I have this memories of fever to read a book about a little girl who befriended a family of Mokomoko who lives in her Marae’s pā harakeke. With an artistic style similar to the books found in Kura, the types of Peter Gossage and Robyn Kahukiwa, were a tale of Tiaki Whenua and Whmen. And I say Fever’s dream because the protagonist shared a name with me. He stood out, not because I love reptiles, but in a country with only two recorded living called Mairātea (I checked New Zealand statistics), it was a surprise. I can barely find a keychain – much less a book character!
But here’s the thing: I can’t find the book anywhere. No library, no second -hand store, no Google search increases. Maybe a very bored boy stuck waiting for his mother in an IWI painting that Hui invented to spend time?
(For the record, the other Mairātea is also from Rotorua, only without Macron. And yes, I know her family. She is very lovely.)
Fiction or not -fiction
Both! My reading flavor is similar to that of a very sharp young man in Tinder. I will try at least once!
Also as a guy in Tinder, I’m often juggling with several at once. I just finished Pacific Artes Aotearoa Edited by Lana LopesiAnd I’m diving in Only children By Patti Smith now. On the fiction side, I just finished We always live in the castle By Shirley Jackson – Because who doesn’t love a strange sister duo? Ew, plunged a little too far in my Tinder alter ego, sorry.
The book that haunts me
An exo fanfic translated from China called 48 hours. Inspired by the Japanese novel Battle Royale By Koushan TakamiWhere school -age children are thrown on a desert island to fight to death, this version arrested EXO members in a house with the same dark premise. The story is told in retrospective, from the winner’s perspective, as he details the blood and blood to the policeman who takes him after the “competition”.
Later I found Battle Royale at the 14 -year -old formidable age. Safe to say that he left a bloody brand.
The book I pretended to read
Anything on my university reading list…:/
Pride and Prejudice? DNF. Never went through a single sister Brontë. And despite working with the Maori translation of Macbeth (Arriving later this year!) I haven’t read or watched any shakespeare correctly. Can I appreciate the classics for their technical brightness, but relative? Different story. All I say is that Charlotte Brontë was not writing with a 21st century maori girl sitting on the outskirts of rotorua in mind.
Most of the time, I have film adaptations – enough to float at least in the conversation, but I don’t want to the opposite. I never read the “big” and I will admit it freely. Of course, I receive the occasional eyebrow, considering my occupation. But I have only one life, if a book doesn’t get me in 50 pages, I’m not going through it. Also, my TBR is long enough for two lives, maybe even three.
The book that made me cry
THE Australian Edition Manual 3RD Edition.
If I could only read three books for the rest of my life, they would be
The hunting accident by David Carlson and Landis BlairLike this, The strange tale of Panorama Island by EDOGAWA RANPO, and Metamorphosis By Franz Kafka.
Each of them has some strange, absurd and spiral element for all of them. If I had only limited options, I would like to read something repeatedly and find a new meaning every time. Also, the photos are beautiful.
Meeting with an author
I write the blog To work on what it is like to be a newbie in the publication. Well, I heard through the vine that Witi Ihimaera Read! Initially, I wanted to clean my digital existence from the face of the earth and enter a hole, but eventually I surpassed myself. Deciding to take a risk – and with the help of a charming and email from my boss – I sent a letter asking if I could take him to have a coffee and choose his brain about surviving the editorial industry. And madly, he said Yes!
Then, last week, in the Auckland cooling mood, we met in one of my favorite coffees in the city. While I will install myself, Bum bad in my seat, the first thing he asks is: “So … what are your dreams? “
It had been a long time since they asked me this question and I was instantly taken back to the year of the fifth Rūmaki, screaming to the room that I would be a world famous archaeologist. (Spoiler: Yes, Nah.) In a light panic, I think I ended up saying something silly like “I have a lot of dreams, I think it depends on the day. ”
It’s not the most poetic answer, but if I’m being honest? As a young man, it was the most real I had.
Biggest Book in New Zealand
For me is the School magazines that the Ministry of Education distributed to Kura Kaupapa. They were a revelation – finally, stories that looked like family and vivid!
Each level had its own publication – He kohikohinga For the little ones, Tautoko for intermediaries and Te Wharekura For us big children. I remember a particularly exciting question from Te Wharekura with a story about a young warrior sailing treacherous currents in his Waka, just to save himself with Karakia. Another told of a patupaiereê of a tohunga through the dangerous forest. It was engaging, exciting, and it was something we could participate in together as a class. These were stories with elements that we just heard about the old days past. This brought these large high objects to us children, and made our story look more real, seem more relevant.
They were a fiction, impressive local art and even students’ shipping. I always wanted to send a story; It seemed the height of literary conquest at the time. You could feel the care between all the pages and I just wish that my nieces and nephews had something like this today.
Best food memory of a book
I blatantly call myself a fan food. I grew up watching my dad eat offal and host pepper competitions in the kitchen. It was my introduction to the different kitchens in the world and it is a family tradition to eat as much as we can fit each other whenever we got a change. I think that’s why I connected so much A certain hunger by Chelsea G. Summers. Writing was only for to die to.
Written as the memories book of the prison of a formerly killer serial food, it is spicy, moodless and wickedly funny. Think Language Con Le Olive -Using the tongue of a soft speech lover. A perfectly grilled back roast (courtesy of a particularly fit lover) served with baked vegetables. Or even PATER A LA Gil, stained over hot toast.
This book combines better with any snack you can eat from a fork (no dirty pages here) and a cold beer.
Best place to read
Anywhere where you can be horizontal. Favorites include:
- Amid a pillow nest
- In the bath
- On a slope where the earth finds its head at the right angle to support it
- In your stomach, taking sun after a swim in the sea, with chippies within your reach
- A little drunk on the couch, with the fire roaring beside him.
Pants are optional in all these scenarios.
What are you reading now
Perfume By Patrick Süskind.
I have taken my time on this, with everyone’s frustration on the library waiting list behind me, but I’m savoring prose and the way Süskind builds your world through perfume. I recently watched a parasite film analysis that explored how non-visual tips shape our perceptions-how we ignore the scent of our own home or instantly recognize when someone just smell rich.
The smell is a underutilized meaning in literature, but has so much power. It has the ability to induce nostalgia, trigger an emotion, or seduce in stronger way than words, appearances, or even do so. But imagine having no perfume? No trail of yourself left in a room, without persistent presence in someone’s clothes, nothing to do you sense through the air. Nothing to prove that you were already there.
