We’ve been lucky enough to have Marianna Vanucci with us this week for work experience. She’s been a runner, a researcher, an administrator, an ambassador, a writer, and now a blogger. Here’s her report on five days with WCN, or ‘How to survive the arts: lessons 1-5′.

Thanks for a great week Marianne!

Monday

My first day is a refreshing change from the hard physical work of my previous placement at Cambridge University Dept. Of Veterinary Medicine, looking after the horses and maintaining fields. I must admit that it’s nice to be back in my element, at a desk surrounded by essays and reports.

I manage to get to work five minutes early and although I haven’t a clue how to use the buzzer I manage to get into the building in one piece. A quick tour staves off any fears I might have had of dying of hunger or thirst, and I am thrilled to learn that I will have my own desk for the week – thank you Richard!

After warming up with a bit of proofreading, during which I have a sneaky read of anything I can lay my hands on to educate myself about the company, I walk with Sam to EPIC on Magdalen Street. When we get there, I have to sign in at reception. Feeling extremely self-important, I sign my name with a flourish, not realising that my cool was about to be shattered by two enormous flights of stairs. I try not to pant as I reach the top, and notice with bitterness that Sam is taking them two at a time while I jog behind him. Let us say that P.E. is not my favourite school subject and leave it at that.

The studio is amazing, and when we arrive, the lighting is being arranged and the floor is being swept in preparation for the Norfolk Arts Forum that is taking place tomorrow. Sam uploads the documents, only to find that the laptop being used belongs to the County Council and does not have the updated software that Writers Centre Norwich (WCN) needs. We will have to return to the office and save them again. Sam sighs, but I don’t mind at all. It’s a lovely day, and I have a chance to chat to Sam about anything and everything I can think of, including my experience of a workshop with Jacob Sam-La Rose and the new cover of Life of Pi by Yann Martel (we agree it is vastly inferior to the old cover and wonder why they’ve changed it after such success?).

When we get back, with the PowerPoint and web links now fully functioning, Sam runs through them while I take a seat and admire the spinning stars that light the walls. I manage to spot me and my mum in one of the photos being used, taken at the reading I attended a few weeks ago at the Sainsbury Centre. I have to say, it is an absolutely stunning photo of both of us, as we have that ‘middle of a sentence’ open mouth pose going on, and neither of us realise the photo is being taken. How delightful.

However, yet more technology trouble, as we realise that the frankly rubbish laptop doesn’t have RealPlayer to support the video Chris wants to show. After being led through endless corridors we reach an office packed with computers and machinery. As I try and fail to keep out of people’s way, Sam discusses the various options with the occupant of this office, and we leave, marvelling at the endless twists and turns of the corridor. Sam remarks that we could be anywhere, and I agree – we seem to have changed direction about a million times since leaving the lecture hall. Then we reach a door marked ‘Reception’, and we burst out into the lobby. We walk back, and Sam drops into the Spar for a bar of chocolate – it seems books are not all we have in common.

When I get back to my desk it is lunchtime. My friend Florrie is working at the Castle Museum, so I’ve arranged to eat with her most days, but today she is meeting her dad for lunch. Ho hum. I investigate my lunchbox, which my lovely mother has packed for me today (I simply COULDN’T get up THAT early) . Tuna? Thanks a lot. I eat it as quickly as I can, paranoid that the whole office will smell like a fish stall by the time Leila returns from her lunch break.

When she does return, I receive a quick briefing from Chris as to what the tasks he has given me actually involve – and for a moment I feel almost like a grownup as he explains to me what research I have been assigned. It all seems a little daunting to someone who is used to tasks like trigonometry, which as we all know are completely straightforward. My initial reaction is to wonder where on earth I am to find this information, but after a few impeccably-worded searches I find a couple of useful sites, and before you know it I am browsing a dictionary of Norfolk words, skimming lists of Norfolk-born authors and desperately trying to find a private library in Norwich with a decent website. Or at the very least, a website.

Two thirty arrives, and I am sent upstairs to talk to Luke Wright, Live Literature co-ordinator. He explains what he does and what it’s about, and I panic that I know none of the names he fires at me – the odd beat poem by Tim Minchin is about as far as my knowledge goes – but he shows me some video clips and I am duly impressed. I even note down the details of the next PoetryLink gig from a leaflet I find on Richard’s desk, and make a mental note to pester my mother about it later.

Then I am called over to Sam’s desk, and he explains briefly what it is that he does, before rushing back to Epic to sort out videos while I stamp and file ESCALATOR applications. I manage to stamp most of them the right way up, which for me is a major achievement, and I get them all into those fiddly plastic wallets without too much drama. Hooray!

I spend the remainder of the afternoon pleasantly flicking between research and my blog, munching happily on Jammy Dodgers and relaxing a little after a rather to and fro morning. Having said that, it makes a nice change from being stuck in a classroom. As I pack up my bag and say goodbye to the team, I am already excited about the NAF event at EPIC and cannot wait to be back tomorrow!

Tuesday

Today is the Norfolk Arts Forum event taking place at EPIC. I head straight there in the morning, equipped with a badge that reads “Volunteer” which makes me feel like a Good Person. I find Sam in the lobby, and among all the strange faces I stick to him like glue. We head up and find our seats in the slowly filling hall. Olly the Olymphant is already in position, as are the podium and cameras. I catch myself wondering whether Olly’s trainers are All Star Converse or a cheap imitation, and hastily focus my attention back on the people entering the room. I decide that no elephant worth his salt would settle for less than the real deal.

The morning session is packed with talks from arts coordinators from all over Norfolk. We are told about ongoing projects and events, and watch a lovely animation made by children at Parkside School. One of my friends is working there this week; I must ask her if she’s seen it. When the projector is not being used for video, the cameras project shots of the speakers onto the screen, which provides a nice close-up for those of us sitting further away. I watch this happily, until the screen cuts to a girl of about fifteen, dark brown hair, wearing a grey shirt and a silver locket. Her eyes widen as she recognises herself on the screen, and those proficient in lip-reading can make out the silent words “oh my GOD it’s ME!”. Luckily for her, there are more close-ups of the audience, but mysteriously none of them make quite such idiots of themselves. So embarrassed is she that she finds herself secretly relieved when, in a moment of rare genius, Sam falls up the stairs. Twice.

By coffee time, I am proud to say I am almost over it. I have also lost all feeling in my lower body. After shaking myself out, I make my way downstairs. Everybody is evidently locked in meaningful and interesting conversation with people they love deeply, and I do my best not to look TOO gormless as I search desperately for someone I know. I spot the name of a friend, confusingly also called Sam, on one of the badges marked Passion Productions, and I learn that he will be dancing this afternoon. I text him, asking whether he’s here yet, hoping for someone to talk to, but it turns out he won’t be arriving till lunch. Faced with another ten minutes of feeling like a lemon, I slope off to the toilets.

After the break, there are talks from Debbie Thompson (Norfolk Youth Arts Consortium) and Chris Gribble. Debbie’s speech is punctuated by video clips and live music from members of Encore, which I think are absolutely brilliant. They comprise of a beat poet, guitarist/beatboxer and dancer, and the three perform individually and then together in the finale. I am wowed by their talent, and find myself in the grip of a momentary urge to move to Sheringham, where Encore organise their events.

After their presentation, Chris takes to the stage. He makes a light-hearted joke about how he can follow their amazing performance, and Sam and I wince – but Chris does amazingly and manages to retain my attention for the entire 45 minutes – a significant achievement if you ask me. He could teach my Chemistry teacher a thing or two.

Lunchtime, thank goodness, and after sneakily texting Florrie about the prospect of Sam dancing (which neither of us have seen before despite knowing him for years), I make my way to the buffet with the other Sam. We end up next to David Farmer in the queue, and Sam talks to him for a while about his work and so on. During a lull in the conversation, I decide to ambush David, and ask him if he remembers being my yoga teacher a few years ago. He says he does (although I doubt he’d remember me in a group of that size) and tells me that he still runs classes in Norwich.

As I demolish the delicious sandwiches, I spot my friend Sam in the crowd. I go over and say hello, and am instantly asked “who do you know here?” This is explained when the group start handing out business cards, and I introduce him to Sam from the Writer’s Centre. They exchange cards, and Sam scuttles back to the dancers, evidently very pleased with his networking progress. The dancers are of course absolutely brilliant.

After their performance, we make our way through yet more endless corridors to the Cultural Olympiad workshop. The U of tables is set out with biros, huge pads of paper and glasses of water, and I try not to look too impressed as everyone else seems totally used to it. All we got at School Council was a pencil.

The workshop is really interesting, especially for someone like me who wouldn’t have been involved if it weren’t for the Writers’ Centre. I am awed by the sheer amount going on in Norfolk for the Olympiad, and it makes me determined to involve myself in some way. When the presentations are over, I look down and realise I have made three pages of notes, a little excessive considering I have no organisation to report back to. I decide to take them back to school in case they fancy getting involved – who wouldn’t with a logo that cool? The Norfolk Celebrating Talent star is truly a genius logo.

After the presentations we are asked to put forward the names of organisations or projects that might be interested in getting involved. Of course, I have no organisation, and am unsure whether to put down my school as we have a new headteacher who I don’t know very well. So instead, I write down the Norfolk County Music Festival (http://www.nfkcountymusicfest.co.uk/). I have been performing in this fantastic event since I was about nine, and it provides an amazing opportunity for young people to perform in public, even those who have only mastered London’s Burning in one hand. It enables them to get feedback from a professional, hear other performers and pick up new pieces and styles (I can’t possibly count the number of times I’ve heard a performance and thought ‘I want to play that!’), and above all to gain confidence in their own ability as a musician, and feel like a concert pianist up there on stage. I’d been performing for years the day I got my first (and so far, only) Outstanding certificate, but it was still incredible. So I thought, what better to help Norfolk celebrate talent? There are some amazing young musicians out there, and I thought they’d be perfect.

We walk back to the office after this, and I spend the last hour of my day writing my blogs, and at half past five I say goodbye to the team and leave to meet my best friend Rose. She asks whether I’ve had a good day, and the answer is most certainly yes.

Wednesday

I am back in the office today. I spend the morning doing a bit of research, writing this, and labelling freebie memory sticks. There are nearly a hundred of them, but I don’t mind monotonous work, instead I find it quite relaxing – in Cambridge I spent the best part of an afternoon folding leaflets in half without blinking an eyelid. After all, colouring in isn’t that much more exciting. Not that I like colouring in.

Using the guillotine is lots of fun – at school you’re not allowed anywhere near one without shin pads and a helmet. I manage not to slice off my own arms – or indeed anyone else’s, as Martin points out, and although I slice a few labels wonky I’m pretty pleased with my labelling skills.

For the first time this week I make it out to lunch. I take advantage of my full hour and meet Florrie at Costa for bacon toasties. At twenty past one, I look at the time, nearly have a heart attack, and then power-walk back to the office – with two minutes to spare, I am proud to say.

When I get back I am sent downstairs to sort books. I am told to sort them into History, Biography and Fiction, but oddly enough I can’t decide which to put the cookbook into, or the book of children’s poems entitled ‘Harvest Mouse’ so I invent a few more categories as I sort. Leila then assigns me the task of transferring all the titles and genres into Excel, so I heave myself back down the stairs and note them all down on a piece of paper. The last few look as if they’ve been written by the Harvest Mouse as my writing gets smaller and smaller in an attempt to get them all onto A4.

Halfway through, I am interrupted by a staff meeting at which I am a guest member. I listen in on the meeting, and find out some interesting information about the company, such as the existence of their ‘Staff Away Day’, multiple Outlook calendars, and what time I have to be at the station tomorrow. Oh, and that those biscuits are really, really nice.

Sam mentions this as we walk to the Playhouse. He has to collect brochures for Refugee Week that had been left there, and I’m giving him a hand. Well, I seem to have given up my whole arms by the time I get back. However, it’s not like I’m not used to it, as my Advertiser paper round means I am no stranger to hauling leaflets.

When we arrive back, and my fingers have recovered, I return to my spreadsheet. It’s at this point that I find myself racking my brains for how to filter the information so I can select certain genres. I try everything I can think of, using all the functions I’ve ever learnt about in ICT, before admitting defeat and posting a question on Yahoo Answers. My reply reads: Click “Filter”. I find the filter button and mentally kick myself, before showing Leila the finished product and saving it in the WCN drive.

At half past four, Miss Johnson arrives from school to check I haven’t killed anyone. Our chat is fairly brief, and most of it is Yes/No answers, such as “Do you feel the placement is going well?” “Yes.” “Have you killed anyone?” “No.” Then she talks to Leila, who is very nice about me (yay) and she takes a photo of me typing. I try not to giggle, and assure everyone present that I don’t always grin like a loon while working.

I have half an hour to kill after Miss Johnson leaves, so I spend it filling in my journal, which I have conveniently been reminded about. I fill in all the lovely, lovely questions, and interrogate Leila for a while about the organisation, when it started and so on, and at five thirty I head off home after a lovely day.

Thursday

Today is the day of the NALD conference. I am really really excited – so much so that I spend the whole morning in bed, dragging myself out just in time to make it to the station for 9.50. When I arrive, I spot neither Sam nor Shenaz, so I head to WH Smith’s to buy some chewing gum, to which I am unfortunately addicted. I browse the book charts, to get me in the mood for a literature day out, and find that Life of Pi, with its new cover, is at no. 74 – outrage! I blame the new cover. However, I spot A Thousand Splendid Suns higher at 61, which restores my faith in the system. The Kite Runner is, in my opinion, unreasonably low, but at least one Khaled Hosseini has made it. The price of chewing gum is horrendous, with a normal pack costing 75p, as opposed to the generally-accepted price of around 40p. I decide to cheat them and buy a larger pack, at the correct price. I feel incredibly pleased with myself for a moment, until I realise I now have a lot of chewing gum I don’t need.

As I leave, chewing away, I spot Sam and Shenaz near the platform. After a bit of searching, Sam finds the right tickets for each of us, and we get on the train, completely ignoring our seat numbers and diving for a table. We settle in, and I am suddenly extremely glad I brought a book when Sam and Shenaz whip theirs out and begin discussing them. Mine is called Behindlings, by Nicola Barker. Sam notices this and tells me he knows people who are mad about her, but doesn’t quite get it himself. With any luck, I shall be one of those people before long, as I am quite enjoying it so far.

When we arrive at Liverpool Street, Sam rushes off to meet his dad, to collect his tent and sleeping bag for Latitude. I seethe with jealousy – I can’t wait till my parents will let me go on my own. Shenaz and I take a trip to the Ladies, and have a marvellous time playing with the AirBlade, the new hand-dryers. Having said that, 30p is a bit much, no matter how amusing the dryers. We arrange to meet Sam there, and take the tube to Waterloo. The trees along South Bank have been wrapped in some sort of plastic, and are now covered in red polka-dot! I think they look amazing, but I can just see my grandmother raving about the natural beauty of trees and how they can’t breathe under there.

After much deliberation, we decide to get sandwiches as this amounts to the least waiting time. We go to a lovely place called EAT, where I get a wrap and Shenaz chooses a baguette. We meet Laura just inside the door, and chat to her for a moment before hastily joining the ever-growing queue. We pay, and sit down with Laura. She talks to Shenaz while I munch away, and then we all make our way to the sixth floor of the South Bank Centre where the event will be taking place.

When we get there, we are given tea, coffee, wine and for me, water, and meet up with Sam and Chris. We stand around and talk for a while (well, they talk and I nod and smile). As everyone settles, I end up talking to Sam for a while. Then I spot the legs of the E4 cow and rush over to the window to have a look. Sam follows, and spots a ping-pong ball on the floor. He picks it up, bounces it a few times, and then places it on the nearest table. Looking around, I notice them everywhere. I keep looking around for them, a little absent-mindedly, until I am brought back down to earth by one narrowly missing my head.

The woman who is later introduced to us as Stacy Makishi (www.stacymakishi.com) turns out to be the source of the ping-pong balls, and she is throwing them at everyone, and telling us to move closer, until we are crowded round her performance area. Her short show is absolutely brilliant, and is one of my first experiences of live literature. The piece is not just a poem – far from it. She uses music, movement and gesture to really bring the piece to life, and it is truly amazing.

When we sit down, the event begins with two keynote presentations, from Salil Tripathi and Paul Collard. Both were really interesting, but the thing that caught my imagination most was Paul’s speculation about the future of books. Will they eventually be taken over completely by digital viewers?

Then there was a coffee break, so being naturally contrary as I am, I had a cup of tea. I stalked Shenaz around for a bit, managing to make a little conversation, and then we reassembled into smallish groups for discussion on the topics of ‘Innovation, Entrepreneurship and Excellence.’ There were loads of really interesting points made, and it was a really nice experience to sit and listen to the ideas of professionals being ricocheted to and fro. It was really enlightening to hear people speak about their perceptions of what excellence is, and how we can strive for it. After this there were some short presentations from Claire Malcolm (New Writing North), Sonita Alleyne (Somethin’ Else) and Daljit Nagra. These were all incredible, and as I’m relatively new to all this, it was amazing to hear people who really knew what they were talking about.

After the speeches, there was a short presentation from Lucy McNab about GPS, the Global Poetry System, and we were asked to write down a piece of poetry close to our hearts. I picked my favourite song lyric of the moment (they change regularly), the man sitting next to me (whose name I cannot recall as he was not wearing a badge) chose the theme from a Bollywood movie. We were also asked to remember the first record we ever bought. His was Michael Jackson; I cringe inside as I tell him mine was Will Young. I don’t care what anyone says, Evergreen was the best single ever, okay?

After the event is formally over, the Writer’s Centre attendees help ourselves to food. It’s all absolutely delicious, and saves us buying sandwiches on the way home! I manage to do a spot of networking, and am flattered to be asked whether I’m studying at UEA.

Eventually, the 6pm event begins. Most people file downstairs to watch, but Shenaz, Sam, Katy and I make our way back to the station, and back to Norwich. There is a moment of drama when Sam realises our tickets are not for the 7pm train as we expected but the 7.30, but with a bit of smooth talking he manages to get us on the 7pm. The train is absolutely packed, but we manage to get seats together. Some people didn’t even get seats!

When we arrive back at the station, I collect goodbye messages from the team, as most of them aren’t in the office tomorrow, and try not to cry as I read them in the car on the way home. I had an amazing day, but I’m going to miss everyone loads when I leave!

Friday

I am allowed a lie-in this morning to compensate for yesterday’s late return from London. I feel this more than fair, considering I had such an amazing day! Although I’m not expected in till lunchtime, I anticipate correctly that this blog will take me hours, so I arrive at half eleven, to show my enthusiasm and eagerness to work of course. My brother is off sick today, so staying at home would only mean having to look after him!

When I arrive, I head straight to my desk and begin writing yesterday’s blog. There’s so much to write about, and obviously I had no time at the actual event to make notes! I spend the morning writing it, and some of the afternoon too.

I arrange with Chris to sit down at half past three and review my researching progress. I panic slightly, as my blog has taken up a significant proportion of my office time and I feel like a bad person for not having done more towards the researchy side of things. But he seems impressed, and asks me to print them out and save them to the WCN drive, so I am reassured that I haven’t completely and totally failed!

Right, all that remains to be done is the rest of my work experience journal, the self evaluation, bullying Leila into doing my employer evaluation, and finishing this blasted blog! I’d better get on with it. You’ll be relieved to see this is a short one today.