Künstlerroman - Who'd've thunk it?

Last week, we ran a cosy Machynlleth Writers' Group at my house with mulled wine, mince pies, a log fire and all the trimmings. Local professional harpist and blossoming poet, Harriet Earis, brought her harp and enchanted us all, including little M, who I woke up at 10pm for the performance, with her beautiful music.

I submitted my work to the group for the first time since we started the second generation Machynlleth Writers' Group last year. I had some fascinating feedback. One of the members, fellow writer and blogger, David Thorpe suggested I take a second look at Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson. Looking it up on ubiquitous Wikipedia, I notice some enthusiastic Wikiwriter has referred to it as a Künstlerroman, meaning an "artist's novel." Who'd've thunk it. Maybe I shall jump on that literary band wagon? It sounds rather romantic.

I love the interview on the author's website, who says she has noticed that when female writers put themselves into their writing, it's called autobiography, and when male writers do the same, it's called meta-fiction. Too true.