The Writers’ Festival

1939421_690242674373885_1664455414_aIt was a fantastic experience. It was so worth it! I would very happily go again if asked. A train came to pick us up and we rode to QueenSt ( no delays or problems). It took just under an hour and we wisely hurried on to the Aotea Centre with Mrs Kantley in the lead. We were surprised to find that we were quite punctual. So it meant that we got exceptional seating. We took our amazing seats. It was perfect to see and when we got there we got a wonderful surprise. There were blue bags draped over our seats and each contained: a unique novel, a pencil case, a book to take notes, a free pen, and a few fliers to inform us about the day. It was a very pleasant surprise to find the novel. I received the book written by Margaret Mahy called ” The 100 ride bus ticket”. After sitting for some time a host greeted us here and the festival began!

Cornelia Funke told us bits about herself and then read the first very enjoyable chapter of the rd book in the series named Mirror world. We urged her on with shrieks of excitement and we then convinced her to read to the end of the next chapter. Cornelia Funke then invited us to ask as many questions as we could fit in. The first session had ended and I asked for the time. It was true, an hour had gone. Des Hunt was up next. He quietly crept onto the stage and introduced himself. Des Hunt had taken lots of well taken photos to show us as he had discovered an interest in photography. This is what he said: “Our cat lived to a ripe old age of 16, which is very sad indeed and he was run over…It was even sadder because it was our car… Cough cough.. I mean my car.” We all roared with laughter and were only silenced when he swept on. He showed us what was needed to urge the reader on. Des Hunt then told us more about himself. He told us he was three different kinds of teachers: a physics teacher, a maths teacher, and an ICT SUITE teacher. He taught at Rosehill College. Later I found out that he taught my Dad! “Mr Hunt was a crazy teacher, he always acted a bit like: I don’t know what’s happening, when an explosion went off”My dad commented “But I’m pretty sure he did it on purpose.” He was a very truthful man and even admitted he was the fattest kid in school! Finally he symbolized suspense. The tension was thick in the air as he filled up a balloon with hydrogen. Screeches boomed across the auditorium as it exploded with one last breath from his machine. Then he left. I again asked for the time, yet another hour had slipped from my fingers like water! Lunch break! All of us went as a group to burger king and ate our delectable lunch then scampered back to the Aotea Centre like obedient dogs. Ha ha!

etherington_brothersThe Etherington brothers leapt onto the stage like hungry wolves and struck us with their names which are: Robin and Lawrence (“Lorenzo”) They are British comic creators who work together as The Etherington Brothers. They told us about a few genres they use such as: romance, crime, comedy and one of their favourites, horror! They were super funny and praised us just because we had clapped whenever they did something funny. They said we were probably one of the best audiences they had ever performed to! Soon after we all watched them perform each genre to us and they were all very whimsical! They filled their performance to the brim with funny jokes and lots of different surprises. Suddenly the host came on stage again. Too late I realized they were finished. The host’s voice boomed off the microphone in large sound waves that shook our ears with the sound. Paula Green, like a timid fawn stepped onto the stage and informed us of some of the poems she had written and some topics she was going to base a new, fresh poem on. She even showed us some that no else had heard and she was going to publish later. Then she invited us with our own ideas to put together a poem about summer ourselves. It sounded a bit like this but I’m not too sure I can remember: Scorching hot, Burning sand, Crispy crabs, Gleaming shells, Rippling water, Screeching gulls, Summer. By the group of kids picked in the auditorium. It was a bit sad for the people seated higher up in the rows because we couldn’t be picked due to our higher seating. No sooner than the other sessions were finished, Paula Green’s time was up and we rose from our seats onto our tired legs to go to the train. The rain didn’t start till we reached the train. I delved into my delightful book and marveled at the way it was worded, such as: “Their seemed to be a golden haze hanging in the air in this half of the city.” The train lumbered on until the original station we had been to before greeted our eyes like a welcome home party. I farewelled my friends with a frenzy of waving hands and thanked Mrs Kantley for a wonderful time a million times over. I just don’t think I can beat the feeling I felt when I listened to those talented writers.

By India O’Halloran