At last! A Welsh Branch of SCBWI!

I am pleased to announce the formation of a new Welsh chapter of the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI – known affectionately as Scoobies).

For anyone who's been off-planet for a decade, SCBWI is a great international membership organisation that provides support to lots of creatives who are starting out in this field, as well as to many have been around for awhile. It's launched quite a few careers as well as some great friendships. A more supportive crowd of people you could scarcely find anywhere.

There hasn't been a Welsh branch for a while, the main problem being the huge geographical spread of the country. It's not that there is a dearth of creatives in the land of the bards, but it can take over three hours to get from one end to the other.

And many of us are salted away in the hills scribbling in secluded valleys or wandering (and wondering) pensively on deserted beaches and mountaintops. The spirit of Taliesin pervades the landscape, and myth and magic abound (even in Port Talbot!).

About seven years ago I tried to start a Scoobie branch here, when I lived in mid-Wales, and we met two or three times, but holding it together was difficult because of the travel times. Out of it grew, if memory serves, the Dragontongue blog, which merged with the Awfully Blog Adventure about four or five years ago? (Correct me if I'm wrong.)

I moved to near Swansea about four years ago and since then a few new members have joined who happen to live in various parts of South Wales.

So at the moment it's mostly South Walians (Hwntws – as opposed to the Gogs of North Wales). Who knows, maybe another branch will form in North Wales?

[Using the word 'branch' brings to mind the four branches of the Mabinogion, that collection of ancient Celtic stories from the oral tradition of Wales. Kind of appropriate, no?]

As a group we've only met three times so far, and I don't pretend to speak for the group here. The Facebook group has 12 members and at the last meeting we celebrated the fact that Claire Fayers had received an advance copy of her new swashbuckling magical pirate story that unfortunately will not be published until next summer – in separate editions in America and the UK. That's a shame because we all wanted to get hold of a copy straightaway it looked so exciting.

Claire was in the SCBWI Undiscovered Voices 2014 anthology and was snapped up by Gemma Cooper of The Bent Agency. Well done, Claire. It just goes to show how effective the network is.

We, the south Welsh branch, are making links with the English SouthWest group and hope to meet up with Candy Gorlay in Swansea soon.

If there are other writers and illustrators in Wales reading this, I encourage you to join SCBWI and get in touch with the network organiser Marie Basting.

On the Trail of the Mari Lwyd

Imagine it's a dark midwinter night. You're out on a windy street in Wales. Suddenly an apparition appears before you: a white garbed ghostly figure over six feet tall.

From its ragged cowl protrudes a skull - but no human skull - it has a long snout, huge eyes and many teeth set in a long jaw that snaps together repeatedly as it comes towards you.

Now you notice a band of musicians who strike up a tune, a troupe of strangely-garbed figures.

'Our' Mari Lwyd.

Don't be afraid. It's only me and my associates. We're reviving an old midwinter tradition.

The tradition is called the Mari Lwyd (it means Grey Mary in Welsh). It has links with Punch and Judy, the need to bring cheer during the dark midwinter nights, and I've even discovered a connection that Susan Cooper made in her The Dark is Rising series between the Mari Lwyd and Merlin.

I encountered this tradition for the first time in the midwinter of 2011-12 when my wife Helen, a fiddle player, was asked to accompany two artists who live in Carmarthen and who are obsessed with the Mari (as it's known for short).

Phil Larcher peeps out at Helen!

The artists, Phil Larcher and Viv Morgan, are obsessed to the extent that their entire apartment is decorated with pictures and objects they have made of Maris.

Phyllis Kinney's excellent book Welsh Traditional Music describes the tradition as follows:

"The Mari Lwyd was a horses skull draped in yards of white canvas and looking like a ghostly spirit except for the adornment of coloured ribbons [we use red and green from the Welsh flag], black bottle-glass eyes [ours has flashing lights] and black cloth or leather ears. Hidden underneath the canvas, a man with a 5 foot pole operated the Mari's jaw, which was on a spring, enabling it to snap."

Viv Morgan leading the Mari Lwyd
(Phil Larcher) into a pub.

A host of traditional characters used to accompany the spectral mare: the Ostler or Leader, plus a Corporal, Sargeant, Punch, Judy and Merryman. There are many local variations, and records of the tradition are sporadic and rare throughout Wales. Moreover some areas have completely forgotten about the tradition, despite the recent revival in interest, whereas in others some individuals, upon seeing the Mari coming down the street, give a shout of recognition.

They remember it from their childhoods.

Essentially what used to happen was that the party would knock on a door of a house and a ritualised exchange of banter would occur, each with an occasion for a specific piece of music.

1. The arrival phase has verses greeting the householders and challenging them to a contest; 
2. there is then a spontaneous improvised debate in verse (called the pwnco), largely an exchange of good-natured insults; 
3. if the party is then invited indoors (it may not be) havoc could be caused. For instance Punch might use his poker to put out the fire, unless he'd been made to promise not to before entry, or Judy might scatter the ashes over the room. There is even a suggestion that the Mari might be looking for a baby in the house; 
4. the hosts give the guests drink (!) and a wassailling song is sung as the visitors wish good luck to their hosts; 
5. a further song is sung as the party leaves.

Here are the words of the Mari Lwyd Farewell song:

Dymunwn ich' lawenydd
I gynnal blwyddyn newydd
Trapari'r gwr dincian cloch
Well, well y bo chwi beunydd.

In our part of Wales, Carmarthenshire, as the tradition is being revived we do not visit people's houses but pubs instead. This is the second year I've been involved and the group has got larger partly because my wife has been running a Welsh tunes workshop in which we have been rehearsing the music.


Phil Larcher and Viv Morgan with their Mari Lwyd in the White Horse, Llandeilo, Carmarthenshire, in January 2012 with fiddler Helen Adam.

The Mari Lwyd in The Parrot pub, Carmarthen on
December 15. You might spot yours truly playing the guitar.
Viv Morgan is to my right, Helen on the left.

We made two visits last year towards the end of December. In Carmarthen we stayed in one pub, The Parrot, all evening and were given a cake baked specially for the occasion!

In Llandovery our large party (two fiddlers, guitar, five percussionists including a monk, a flautist and an accordionist - my son Nemos - plus assorted singers) were turned away from the first pub. The second permitted us to terrorise the diners - who didn't know what had hit them!

We visited two more pubs and, halfway through the evening, a twmpath, or ceilidh in the community hall which we proceeded to disrupt - much to the dancers' enjoyment.

When we went to the final pub we found someone who obviously knew we were coming who was wearing a massive papier maché head with a top hat, whom I took to be the Merryman and who danced to our music.

But what are the origins of this madness?

Samhain decoration on the Mari's costume.

Given the link with Punch and Judy, one line of ancestry may lead back to the 16th-century Italian commedia dell'arte, a touring troupe of actors with stock characters. Punch derives from the Neapolitan stock character of Pulcinella, a manifestation of the Lord of Misrule and Trickster figure found in many old mythologies. His wife was originally called Joan.

The Mari Lwyd ritual has also been described as "a pre-Christian horse ceremony" associated with many similar customs throughout the world. Some aspects of it, including some of the music, suggest considerable age.

The Mari could be associated with the Welsh mythic figure Rhiannon, who first appears in the Mabinogion, the Welsh cycle of old stories, riding a shining white horse.

Our Mari is decorated with pagan symbols. The Leader, Viv, carries a broom whose staff is richly decorated, topped with a small black bird, and whose brush is made with freshly picked herbs.


Susan Cooper's brilliant The Dark Is Rising epic cycle of five children's fantasy books includes a character called Merryman. He is one of the Old Ones, on the side of Light. The second book, The Dark Is Rising, and the final book, Silver on the Tree, are set around Aberdyfi, south Gwynedd, in the area where her parents and grandparents lived, and it is likely Susan would have known of the Mari Lwyd tradition.

One of the manifestations of Merryman in the book cycle is Merlin.

You might ask where a horse's skull might be obtained. If you look, they come to you. Viv and Phil swear that they found theirs hanging in the branches of a tree one day when they went for a walk following a storm.

The ritual is not associated with any particular day of the year, just any time around midwinter and the turning of the year, and so it can be repeated in different places. We have one further date on January 11 in Llandeilo, where we will be visiting three pubs during the course of the evening. Perhaps we'll see you.

Traditionally, the host are supposed to give us a drink in each one, but I don't think the publicans have yet cottoned on to this.

Nevertheless it's the best excuse for a pub crawl and a lot of fun on a dark midwinter night that I've come across in a long time. And the Tricksters and Lords of Misrule demand their time. There are those who would like to tame them - but they will not be tamed. Maris are wild.

They have a life of their own. They have been spotted gathering together when the night is dark in wooded valleys where caves can be found.

If you should hear the snapping of jaws and the sound of hooves one dark night - don't venture near. The Maris don't care to be watched by the uninitiated.

Photos: Phil Larcher.

Calling all childrens writers in Wales

All other regions of the UK have local branches of the Society of Childrens Book Writers and illustrators, who meet regularly fdor crit groups and socialising, except for Wales.

See the website britishscbwi.jimdo.com/networks/

I've taken on the job of being the Wales coordinator. Ideally we'll be mid-Wales, meeting in Aberystwyth, and I'd like to see people come forward to coordinate in NBorth and South Wales.

Academi is the Welsh agency supporting writers. I have posted an appeal for any writers - published or not - to join the Welsh branch of SCBWI at
academi.org/opportunities/i/133697/

They can also contact me directly.

The Academi website is also worth a browse for competitions etc.

Let's run the banks like e-Bay and Wikipedia

Let’s not despair that human nature always causes ruin just because the banks are collapsing. Individuals can make a fantastic difference, and together, given a leap of imagination, can find a solution to global financial inequality in an unexpected place.

In a week when capitalism's Goliaths have fallen so swiftly, not by the action of many Davids, but because they were made rotten to the core by their own rapacity, I have been gleaning potential solutions to some of the world's most pressing economic problems from a quite different quarter.

I am researching a book on links between individual and communities in Africa and Wales. This means I am travelling around Wales talking to people who are changing the lives of others thousands of miles away, and whose lives themselves are being transformed in the process. Individuals like Angela Gorman, who, just because she saw a BBC documentary in 2005 about women dying in Chad during childbirth for want of a simple and cheap compound, has given up her job to raise money to help them, and as a result slashed the mortality rate from 17% to under 2.5%, exceeding a Millennium Development Goal. These drugs cost just 60p a pop, and a woman would need five to seven of them. Yet they had, until her straightforward intervention, been dying by the hundred. In short she has achieved in a year what the United Nations failed to, so much so that they have asked her to repeat her success in neighbouring Liberia. [http://www.hopeforgracekodindo.org/]

On Wednesday I met Denise Lord from Pen-y-Craig, in the Rhondda, an ex-coal-mining area classed as 'deprived' in the lexicon of EU or government grant-dispersing bodies, and which has had millions poured into it in an attempt to help its children. Although Denise says the kids she runs workshops for are "materially rich, with their mobile phones and Sky boxes" compared to those she has visited in the slums of Cape Town, the problem is that compared to the Cape Town kids they are "spiritually poor, while the Cape Town kids are spiritually rich and materially poor". [http://www.valleyskids.org/news_details-13198.html]

I asked her to explain. "We have so much to learn from these people," she replied, "And I think among the most important is humility. The kids there have to struggle to get to school so they value it. The kids here take it for granted, so they don't. They bunk off and think it's cool to drop out and get into trouble."

'We have so much to learn from these people' is a phrase I've heard from every one of these extraordinary-yet-ordinary individuals I have talked to so far. But Martha Musonza Holman is one apart. She left her two sons, aged 9 and 12, behind when she fled Zimbabwe in 2001 to come to Wales, where she now resides running a fair trade business called, appropriately, I Love Zimbabwe [http://ilovezimbabwe.co.uk]. She and her partner David struggle to import crafts made by people from her community back there to sell here, so she can send the profit back.

It might be easier to trade in hedge funds. To start with she has to contend with officials in Zimbabwe who demand a cut which puts the price up. "You may think they're corrupt," she says, "like some financial traders. But they're just trying to survive themselves in the worst of economic conditions. However we have a consignment of ceramics that has been sitting in a port for three months and we can't bring it here to sell."

The bankers on Wall Street and in the City, who paid themselves billions of dollars in bonuses, don't have the excuse that they were just trying to survive.

"The last consignment we received cost us £1130 to bring here, but I can only sell it for £1200," she complains. Furthermore, sometimes she sits in the Abergavenny market all day and sells nothing. "People in Zimbabwe think it's simple. We are all rich in the West, they believe, so it's easy for me to sell their crafts. But it is not!" The market decides what sells. If no one buys, or if the profit is miserable, her people back home will starve, fair trade or not.

Here is a clear case where the market needs intervention, to help the poorest. That is exactly why the Welsh Assembly Government has commissioned me to write this book and help Martha and all the others to find a bigger market.

Fair Trade is about transparency. Those who pay can see, should they choose, that their money benefits the community where the producers live, and that the producers receive a fair wage. Should not all trade be fair? Should not all banks be transparent? Why do we expect one system to apply to one type of financial transaction, and another, of supposedly far greater import, to be shrouded in secrecy and occluded by hopelessly obscure rules?

The few exceptional people I am meeting are passionate, inspirational, hard-working and often unpaid, as they try in every way they can to help people so far away. Why do they do it? Because their own spirits are enriched and their lives gain meaning by doing so - without the need for religion.

I struggle to understand human nature when I compare their generosity to the insatiable greed of the equally exceptional few bankers who have sucked dry the trough that millions, also far away, are now unable to feed from.

So what is the solution I am advocating, besides transparency, fairness and humility? I believe that it is glaringly obvious. It's a solution dreamed up by ordinary people and millions use it every day. It is a model which others have proselytised for other spheres of human endeavour but few have dared suggest could equally apply to the financial world. When I suggest it you will doubtless laugh. You will snort. But after you've done that, consider it further with me.

We all know that a lack of regulation has brought the crisis upon us. We all know that this has encouraged human greed. I believe that particular aspects of human nature, multifarious as it is, are manifested in different environments purely as a result of what is acceptable in that environment. If you approve excess, excess is what you get. If you reward honesty, then that is what you get.

Every day, millions of people use e-Bay and Amazon and other online marketplaces, buying and selling to other invisible individuals whom they will never meet. They do so with trust and faith because they can clearly see their trading history. Bad deals get bad feedback, and we can all read it. Yes, sometimes scams occur, and sometimes people get ripped off because they don't bother to check the trader's history. But compared to the majority of transactions these are rare.

If, thirty years ago, I had told you that in the future people would trade to this extent with others whom they would never meet and, by and large, have faith that they would not be defrauded, you would have called me hopelessly idealistic. You would have said that such a thing was only possible in a small community where everyone knew everyone else and the high probability of repercussions for bad behaviour would help to curb it. Yet here we are, and, thanks to simple rules, effective monitoring, and modern technology, it happens all the time and millions of dollars change hands every day.

Furthermore, Credit Unions [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Credit_Unions] and community banks trade cash and help individuals and communities bootstrap themselves up without recourse to high interest rates or rapacious moneylenders. In these constituted environments individuals or groups invest money, and other individuals or enterprises borrow it, in a transparent way. They are owned and controlled by their members. The average U.S. credit union has $93 million in assets versus $1.53 billion in assets for the average U.S. bank, so they are commonly smaller - not a bad thing, since if one fails it is not the end of the world.

So here is my horribly naive, simplistic and obvious solution, in outline, to the problem of global financial ineqality and the dark side of capitalism. Here is my mad plan to render these monstrous predatory dinosaurs of banking and insurance extinct once and for all. Here is the route to allow small and medium sized traders - everyone in the world, eventually - access to capital fairly and in confidence: use modern technology, e-Bay type rules and checks and balances, transparency and fairness, to apply a credit union style model to mutual one-to-one exchanges.

Even if those traders be large concerns, they must still follow the same rules of transparency. Everyone's credit history will be visible to all. And if you can see your own history so plainly, would you not be more prudent yourself?

The same rules would apply to everyone, not one set of rules for us and another for the bankers. As with peer-to-peer networking, file-sharing, and indeed Wikipedia-style collaborations of any sort, we would all be bankers, whether lenders or borrowers. If millions of otherwise unconnected people working together can build something as essential and huge as Wikipedia or e-Bay, why can't they build lending institutions, independent of banks? I am not an accountant, or a banker. I can't work out the nitty-gritty of how it would work. i don't need to. I believe in human nature - someone else will, or a crowd of people working together.

If this were done then maybe, just maybe, we might learn some spiritual wealth and humility; by doing things the slightly harder way - and following some simple rules that we collaborate on to make up.