tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12420940807989476142024-03-05T04:13:21.779-08:00dawnspaceAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-88964059148575851212014-06-04T22:39:00.000-07:002014-06-04T22:45:49.617-07:00Today was the day<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIvkxTRxIPxq3297fjC1S-Z4X6iaa_x9H1C072KMnD_jQJs8Yh8fHxLzS_pPP3jr6m3r2Ankyf4u-vmeMI9z7nxfuZywby6lb6Vx4yjcx2PBrCKB1jKWy0JqjiH-lVL7ZcDeIhi2m-_x0/s1600/First+kindle+page_web+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIvkxTRxIPxq3297fjC1S-Z4X6iaa_x9H1C072KMnD_jQJs8Yh8fHxLzS_pPP3jr6m3r2Ankyf4u-vmeMI9z7nxfuZywby6lb6Vx4yjcx2PBrCKB1jKWy0JqjiH-lVL7ZcDeIhi2m-_x0/s1600/First+kindle+page_web+small.jpg" height="320" width="308" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">(Photo credit: Me)</span></div>
<br />
<b>Today was the day. </b><br />
She woke up knowing that all the little bits of dangling threads had to be tied up or neatly clipped. She would do it. Today. She knew she would.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
The little adrenaline monkey was squirming in her tummy. <br />
So first things first: </div>
dishes, sweeping, dusting, clean the toilet, pay the bills,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
water the plants on the verandah, <br />
put the washing on the line.</div>
<br />
She always felt better when the daily chores were finished. No guilt. No pile of greasy dishes casting her dirty looks every time she walked past. No nagging 'must-do's' to distract her from the task at hand.<br />
<br />
And she turned her computer on. She had 1 hour. <b>Sixty whole minutes </b>to finish a couple of last edits, compile her manuscript from Scrivener into a .doc and work out how to create a .mobi file.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Her friends were waiting for the moment. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">They had been waiting for a month. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<b><div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Today was the day.</b> </div>
</b></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
The phone rang, she answered it. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The dog whined, she let her in. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The postman stopped, she collected the mail from the letter-box. </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Agitation cursed her solar plexus. She smiled. 'I still have <b>45 minutes.</b> I'll be fine' she thought.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
She downloaded KindleGen. </div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
The internet was slow. Grindingly, annoyingly, frustratingly, slow. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And now she could not find the .exe file to launch the program. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
She downloaded the users guide. She read the 'geek' script. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
She tried again. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And again. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And again. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Darn-it!</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Only <b>10 minutes</b> left. The reminder text beeped on her phone. She swore. She kicked the floor. Times up.<br />
<br />
She bit her lip, turned off the computer, had a quick shower and left for work.<br />
<br />
<br />
(Later that day...)<br />
<br />
It had been a long day. She smiled through her tired eyes, ran herself a bath and added drops of lavender to help clear her foggy head. Two candles sent soft flickers dancing across the bathroom wall, she breathed in the sweet healing scent of lavender and neroli and practiced her ujayi breath.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Wrapped in a cosy toweling robe, with her feet snuggled deep in soft woollen socks, <br />
she turned her computer on, and closed the office door.</div>
<br />
Before checking her email, opening files or re-trying to launch KindleGen she visited the Kindle Forums. 'Use Kindle Preview, it's much more straightforward for us lesser techno-illiterates.' (Yes, that is exactly what it said.)<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Preview downloaded fast, launched with ease, she was quietly pleased. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Neither rushed nor competing with a clock, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
she opened up the preview program and </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
quietly browsed for the .ePub file then </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
softly pressed the enter key. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
And in this gentle evening light, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
when all the days work was done, </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
her first ever .mobi file </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
appeared upon <br />
her screen.</div>
<br />
<br />
She attached the latest version to an email for her Kindle-reader friend, paused, took two deep breaths and purposefully clicked on 'send'.<br />
<br />
Today was the day. She had woken up knowing.<br />
<br />
My FIRST DRAFT. Out into the abyss. Well to two trusty writerly pals who are going to read it with fresh eyes and let me know if it makes sense.<br />
<br />
And I've even learned a little about creating kindle ready books. (Just a little ;-)). One step at a time.<br />
<br />
Love DawnAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-11645335858004214782014-04-21T00:38:00.000-07:002014-04-21T00:50:01.263-07:00First NOVEL, First DRAFT<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6AAeK0PQ8G5iaDPR8HkaUaZbf7dQwdTnW6yh__mDjG1NpYT_jZDViSKgg-V_nMUZDlfpwTi2iNCOGS8jDWIF70Pjti33n8-6Z7PCGViO2RFZfs8DtQI__4Dv97ORkf4qdcC4n898Hcw/s1600/First+draft+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6AAeK0PQ8G5iaDPR8HkaUaZbf7dQwdTnW6yh__mDjG1NpYT_jZDViSKgg-V_nMUZDlfpwTi2iNCOGS8jDWIF70Pjti33n8-6Z7PCGViO2RFZfs8DtQI__4Dv97ORkf4qdcC4n898Hcw/s1600/First+draft+small.jpg" height="277" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">(Photo Credit: Me)</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Several months ago I set myself a goal. A silly goal, or so
I thought at the time. Yet <b>that
darned goal got the better of me</b>. It gripped me. It wrung ink out of my
veins. It churned my tummy. It stabbed at me, pricked my ego, jabbed at my
procrastinator ‘abort’ button, all the while mercilessly nudging me forward. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well just as well that goal:<span style="font-family: Wingdings; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ul>
<li><b style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">had</span></b><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> a mind of its own,</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span></li>
<li><b style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">did</span> </b><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">not under any circumstance allow its maker to give
up,</span></li>
<li><b style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">knew</span></b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">that
beyond the torment there is a freedom to be found, and beyond the upward leaps
and flights of insane fantasy there is always a level ground upon which to
return to.</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And so my goal and I have arrived at a celebration point; a
quiet, reserved celebration that simply acknowledges ‘we did it’.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;">As I typed in those<br />
</span></b><i><span style="line-height: 115%;">last lines of the last chapter of the first draft</span></i><b><span style="line-height: 115%;"> <br />
I experienced a rush of excitement. <br />I knew it was done. <br />
There was no lingering nor wondering.<br />
I simply knew.<span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And, very quickly after that, a torrent of other possibilities;
we could continue and this could happen, we could change that bit and adjust
the twist to this or that or… </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My manic brain had completely skipped the ‘celebration’
moment. The swell of nerves, the surge of adrenaline, the pffftt of satisfied
exhalation had been swept up, pushed forward and propelled into the endless
abyss of do,do,do…</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;">Screeeeech! The brakes went on. <br />
Wait a minute let us return to and appreciate <br />this ‘celebration point; <br />
a quiet, reserved moment<br />that simply acknowledges<br /> ‘we did it’.<span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I pushed the laptop away a little and stretched my fingers
along the beveled edge of my desk. (Thank you fingers.) I stood up, stretched
my arms upward and let my spine unwind. And at the peak of my subdued
jubilation I pointed one index finger toward the ceiling, took a little skip
and said ‘oh yeah.’ </div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;">It felt great pointing to that<br /> little
moment of time<br /> and offering it an<br /> ‘!’.<span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So ... Now... Ta-dah… I have in my hot little hands the
first warm print of the first draft of my first (ever in my whole life) novel.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s no secret I like to write. Sometimes it’s enjoyable,
other times it’s painful. Most of the time it’s cathartic as it is my preferred
creative weep into the world.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today it is a silly little goal that has been: set, realized,
acknowledged and celebrated.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And it’s true, now that I have done it I really feel like I can
do it again.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ll keep you posted on the revision, editing, assessing,
etcetera process.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Love Dawn</div>
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-47834785650643504822014-03-05T06:19:00.001-08:002014-03-05T06:29:12.754-08:00Planning to Publish!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNFloPoVNl_51Bp9ci9OwNGtl48PV7lVbx9qoMd1u9TB-6cTf4Dx3K4AXvZISs9QHbKi8ixE71WuX_Z-40zlJMEepmnpEm8y1RI9CmRIbWAhCwedWprFfIJiUiRAXWRI4ElIRVNEHcFxU/s1600/old+NZ+books+CC+Andy+Brill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNFloPoVNl_51Bp9ci9OwNGtl48PV7lVbx9qoMd1u9TB-6cTf4Dx3K4AXvZISs9QHbKi8ixE71WuX_Z-40zlJMEepmnpEm8y1RI9CmRIbWAhCwedWprFfIJiUiRAXWRI4ElIRVNEHcFxU/s1600/old+NZ+books+CC+Andy+Brill.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;">Photograph - Creative Commons (Andy Brill)</span></div>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></h3>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b>I am...</b><b>Middle-aged on the edge of the publishing abyss. </b></h3>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Squinting into the contemporary literary canyon. </b></h3>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b><b>Giddy with the surge of push and shove between </b></h3>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b>Trad' and Indie. </b></h3>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
I spend more time researching and reading about other people's 'amazing' success stories than I actually do writing and wrapping up my own projects. Or according to some sites 'my literary masterpieces that the world needs to hear'. ;-)<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>So I've got a plan. </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>(Tongue in cheek.)</b></div>
<br />
<b>1)</b> First decision: do I go with my 'real<span style="background-color: white;">'</span><b><span style="background-color: white;"> <span style="color: red;">name</span></span><span style="color: red;"> </span></b>or do I choose a pen name? <br />
<br />
<b>2)</b> Then... to dive in I will need a <span style="color: red;"><b>platform </b></span>to dive/step/tremble off. (Necessary for both traditional and Indie so best I get on with it.)<br />
<br />
<b>3)</b> That is, a <b><span style="color: red;">website </span></b>(domain, host, content) that links to my <b><span style="color: red;">blog, facebook, twitter, pinterest, LinkedIn</span></b> and so on. <br />
<br />
All the while remembering that I already have some of these that are related to my personal and current professional life. Hmmm! And some bits I would like to transfer to my new self-hosted, wordpress themed site.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>At this point I feel like being on the publishing-pursuit trail is a little like <br />creating a whole new section of my life. <br />It is! Revelation. <br />An 'aha!' moment.</b></div>
<br />
Currently I am on the verge of setting up the infrastructure for the platform. Phew!<br />
<br />
<b>4)</b> Next step: a<b><span style="color: red;"> following</span></b>. Also known as tribe, audience, supporters. (All the while remembering I've not got anything for them to be supporting; I have not scribed for my tribe so to speak.)<br />
<br />
<b>5)</b> As soon as I'm ready I'll take on the <b><span style="color: red;">Twitter Challenge</span></b> (offered by The Write Practice) to create some momentum. Simultaneously I will comment on <span style="color: red;"><b>other blogs</b></span> and sites and hopefully offer some useful information or entertaining analyses. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>And I will research other ways to build my 'following' so my<br /> 'platform' is a sturdy and useful 'diving board'.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<b>6)</b> In the meantime<b> I WILL</b> complete at least one project so I can experience the self-publishing process all the way from the<b><span style="color: red;"> neurons</span></b> in my <b><span style="color: red;"> 'right-brain</span></b>' through to <span style="color: red;"><b>Amazon</b></span> and/or the other book sales options I have noted in my research.<br />
<br />
<b>7)</b> I am considering investing in a<b><span style="color: red;"> manuscript assessment</span></b> and an <span style="color: red;"><b>editor</b></span> and some <b><span style="color: red;">beta readers</span></b>.<br />
<br />
<b>8)</b> I will develop a <b><span style="color: red;">marketing and promotion strategy</span></b> to complement my initial foray into the Publishing world.<br />
<br />
9) <b><span style="color: red;">PUBLISH</span></b>. For this first one I believe I am going Indie.<span style="color: red;"> <b>Ta-Dah!</b></span><br />
<br />
As I progress I believe I may be more inclined to investigate traditional options: agents and publishers.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> I will be wiser, I will have my writer/author persona electronically established <br />and I'll be diving like an Olympian. </b></div>
<br />
Thank you for bearing witness to my inaugural publishing (aka publishing debut) planning session. Your feedback and comments are very welcome. ;-)<br />
<br />
Cheers Dawn :-)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-55986454817837064722014-03-02T05:36:00.001-08:002014-03-02T05:36:09.037-08:00Cerise sunset<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Something a little poetic to celebrate the final salute of of our first day of Autumn in the southern hemisphere... </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiyoLyr3VBB9QbxPf9EZ8zdkxRcE19X2Wz5vrghl2UCGsgBdMpAlWKye2UjmpV8lmH6gYUaxFOzOKHi6nBDDKVBWThL1xEfvQhsqniZxspiTW99UkJKOLTw2D736CenoCUuypeBArEt2k/s1600/wind-turbine-sunset-cc-jes-2007-cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiyoLyr3VBB9QbxPf9EZ8zdkxRcE19X2Wz5vrghl2UCGsgBdMpAlWKye2UjmpV8lmH6gYUaxFOzOKHi6nBDDKVBWThL1xEfvQhsqniZxspiTW99UkJKOLTw2D736CenoCUuypeBArEt2k/s1600/wind-turbine-sunset-cc-jes-2007-cropped.jpg" height="194" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.4; margin-bottom: 20px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">
Cerise veins weave filaments across the stretch of <span style="line-height: 1.4;">tiring light. </span><span style="line-height: 1.4;">Sun sinks deeper into the darkening sea. </span><span style="line-height: 1.4;"> I shiver. </span><span style="line-height: 1.4;">The last frail, pale pink wisps of stratus dissolve into </span><span style="line-height: 1.4;">delicate </span><span style="line-height: 1.4;"> translucent tapestry. </span><span style="line-height: 1.4;">Such beauty. </span><span style="line-height: 1.4;">One solar solo tear reaches my lip. </span><span style="line-height: 1.4;">One final ecliptic </span><span style="line-height: 1.4;">crimson kiss. <br />And sun slides beneath the inky line </span><span style="line-height: 1.4;">to shine; <br />upon another.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.4; margin-bottom: 20px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-88784562843424580342014-02-23T21:36:00.000-08:002014-03-05T06:35:18.089-08:00Getting unstuck<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilpqi86aX0zmtqlCCd7KHV5z6Pls_0AM49jJwyvp-ZYnA7qPLPiIhTAu24ufp2_lGfsgt_tBDL7Fa7e85md3AIL4xm1qwfYw6Ltceni4NKZ3cBpEgwvLsLc2EFjYkwkB1uT3MRYpM5b7k/s1600/brick+wall+CC+f4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilpqi86aX0zmtqlCCd7KHV5z6Pls_0AM49jJwyvp-ZYnA7qPLPiIhTAu24ufp2_lGfsgt_tBDL7Fa7e85md3AIL4xm1qwfYw6Ltceni4NKZ3cBpEgwvLsLc2EFjYkwkB1uT3MRYpM5b7k/s1600/brick+wall+CC+f4.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;">Photograph Creative Commons (f/4)</span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Hi Folks,<br />
<br />
I've <b><span style="font-size: large;">stalled</span></b> a bit in the novel writing process. I've <b><span style="font-size: large;">hit the proverbial wall</span></b>. I could see it was mostly <b><span style="font-size: large;">anxiety</span></b> about how to craft a sub-plot and make it 'real' and 'believable'. And I was <b><span style="font-size: large;">nervous</span></b> about the character with traits unfolding that I wasn't ready to tackle.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://thewritepractice.com/let-me-be-your-muse/" target="_blank">The Write Practice</a> once again comes to the rescue. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: red;">A prompt to dialogue with a character</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><b>and see what he/she really wants.</b> </span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The outcome of that conversation follows.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
****************************************</div>
<br />
"Hey Gwen, <b><span style="font-size: large;">I'm stuck</span></b>. I can't work out how this next plot twist can happen. I'm not even sure I want it to."<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"<b>Well about time you got back to me</b></span>. It's dark here, as you well know. I need to move. Maybe now's not the right time. Maybe for now all I need is to know he's there. I'm feeling excited but confident enough in my cause to be patient. It is unfolding like clockwork. My old friend delivering the goods yet again. Perhaps we can focus on her. Deepen her love. Entrench her further into the misery of love. I can be patient. Confirm my target; observe my prey."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">"I feel like I'm giving up. Like I'm too scared to go there."</span></b></div>
<br />
Gwen smiled and shuddered. Her lips curled toward the blackness in her eyes.<br />
<br />
"I can be very patient. I can calculate from afar. <b><span style="font-size: large;">I want to deepen my connection</span></b> with Shaz; slowly let her in. There is no hurry."<br />
<br />
She glanced back toward the busy street where the three of them stood huddled in conversation as if she had never left.<br />
<br />
"I have to go back now. <b><span style="font-size: large;">Lead me back. Trust me</span></b>. Let the lovers love. This dark lantern needs only a brief flicker of hope to keep black it's burning flame. Come, come, we must move on."<br />
<br />
Gwen tugged my writing hand.<br />
<br />
"Write me in the longer way. I want to visit her home. See more of her life. She will assist; bear witness to my final strike."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
"But Gwen I feel like I'm putting off the inevitable. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I'm avoiding the dark</b>. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You're scaring me."</div>
<br />
Gwen twitched, irritation lit the embers in her eyes.<br />
<br />
"Don't you leave me too. Wasn't once enough? You owe me. I know you." She pushed me toward the door.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"<b>You're in too deep.</b> <b>This is your story and you need me. </b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Write me back in.</b> <b>Write me in the long way. </b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">I'll be stronger. I'll be waiting."</span></b></div>
<br />
She opened the creaky door and slipped back out onto the busy street. Through the tinted glass I could see her laughing, pointing back at the door, sweeping her co-characters into her shadowy net. Saving them all for another day. If only they knew how close to the end they had been.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>I shrunk back into the shadows; reluctant, unconvinced and shaking.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-66987953078733851602014-02-21T00:44:00.003-08:002014-03-05T06:42:48.253-08:00Afraid of spoonsAnother 15 minute practice from <a href="http://thewritepractice.com/" target="_blank">The Write Practice</a><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZkddb2S9IFCG8sSAKzWew7tZOp1T9AAJLLiC8gFL5hnQ4UdO-OBW-HO75qhxoInAjw1pX-usGcyGp4i_en5hJqKeauculBT6_QD0UhSk2_v-beM6nVc9LATLfFmc4rUM6wNaqo40C_s/s1600/spoons+CC+Pearlzenith.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZkddb2S9IFCG8sSAKzWew7tZOp1T9AAJLLiC8gFL5hnQ4UdO-OBW-HO75qhxoInAjw1pX-usGcyGp4i_en5hJqKeauculBT6_QD0UhSk2_v-beM6nVc9LATLfFmc4rUM6wNaqo40C_s/s1600/spoons+CC+Pearlzenith.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;">Photograph Creative Commons (Pearlzenith)</span></div>
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<h3>
<span style="color: red;"><b>The prompt: For as long as he could remember, he had been afraid of spoons. </b></span></h3>
....<br />
Their continuous lip sneering 360 degrees of sharpened steel. The threat of their pennywise concave reflection, promising horror and nightmares. Steven turned away from the table. Nausea tickled the back of his throat. <br />
<br />
"Eat your soup," she said, "it's delicious."<br />
<br />
He smiled and wiped his clammy hands across his trousers.<br />
"I'm not that hungry," he lied.<br />
<br />
The soup spoon glinted in the light. Tracey scooped a full spoon of bean soup and lifted it slowly to her mouth. She sipped then slurped then wrapped her mouth around the full belly of stainless cutlery.<br />
Steven gagged. The knot in his stomach ground against his ribs. He looked to the door.<br />
<br />
"I need to go," he said " I have things to do."<br />
"Here try this it's delicious," Tracey leaned across the table, smiling, holding out a full spoon of steaming soup.<br />
<br />
"No for goodness sake. Get it away from me." Steven swiped the leering lip of steel from Tracey's grip. Mixed beans slopped across the white linen and hot soupy stock sprayed across the floor.<br />
<br />
"Keep that spoon a way from me. Keep it away," he hissed pushing away from the table. His chair fell backwards, Tracey shrieked and dropped the steel implement. The spoon landed on Stevens cutlery, flicked the silver stem of his own soup spoon and pushed the concave steely head wobbling toward the edge of the table.<br />
<br />
"They're dangerous," he cried " you just can't trust them."<br />
"Who?"<br />
"The spoons, the spoons."<br />
"What? Are you for real?" Tracey laughed and shook her blonde hair back over her shoulders. "You're crazy."<br />
<br />
"I'm crazy? You're the one using a spoon." Steven's voice was almost a whisper.<br />
"Get away from the table. Get away now."<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-40980391236496244652014-02-21T00:39:00.000-08:002014-02-24T01:18:59.836-08:00Afraid of Needles<br />
More practice, just felt to share.<br />
Ten minutes of total, made up on the spot, make believe.....<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: red;">The Prompt: Billy is going backpacking through Asia and needs to get vaccination shots.</span></b><br />
<br />
Therese slumped onto the couch. <br />
"Come on Billy; be a man."<br />
"I hate needles; they hurt. I've always hated them. Why do you have to have so many? Surely they can put it all into one super shot."<br />
"Oh for goodness sake, toughen up you pussy." <br />
<br />
Therese smiled at Billy but he could feel her patience waning. She pushed herself up and grabbed her car keys off the coffee table. <br />
"Come on let's go." She pulled her raincoat off of the spindly Ikea stand and turned toward the front door.<br />
"Where are we going?"<br />
"We're meeting Mum for lunch remember."<br />
Billy grunted, picked up his mobile from the small stand in the hallway and followed Therese out into the <br />
sleet and foreboding grey winter day.<br />
<br />
"This weather is depressing," he said. <br />
"Exactly. That's why we're going to the exotic tropics. Temples, and beaches and palms and disease. Ya hear me; disease."<br />
<br />
Therese gripped the steering wheel; turned left on Grayson. She swung a sharp late turn in to White Drive. The back wheels screeched as they slid around the corner.<br />
"What are you doing? Where are you going?"<br />
"To the clinic." Therese smiled a little, checked the rear vision mirror and accelerated into the middle lane.<br />
"What? No way. Turn back. You can't make me do it."<br />
<br />
Therese indicated left then sharp right and swung wide into the back corner of the clinic car park.<br />
<br />
"There's some Rescue Remedy in the glove box. Have a swig. That'll calm ya nerves."<br />
<br />
Billy fumbled around in the dark and pulled out a small flask of whiskey. <br />
"That'll do" Therese said opening the drivers door and pulling the keys out of the ignition.<br />
"A man's drink." She winked, climbed out and slammed the door.<br />
<br />
Billy was smiling. That's why he loved her so. She'd had it all planned right down to the calming amber tonic that prickled feisty and hot down his throat.<br />
<br />
"Where would I be without you?" He said through the misty window to Therese standing at the front of the car with her hands on her hips; all nonchalant warrior and insistent. She couldn't hear him. He didn't want her to.<br />
<br />
Billy smiled, took another deep swig, as any real man would. And with whiskey smile he joined his commanding Aztec princess for a walk through the sleet into the chamber of needles and pain.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-38498954347986797402014-02-21T00:31:00.000-08:002014-02-24T01:24:53.543-08:00Deliberate PracticeHi y'all<br />
<br />
Just thought I'd post a couple of my little 10 - 15 minute practices. <br />
<br />
These are daily practice pieces in response to <strong><a href="http://thewritepractice.com/" target="_blank">The Write Practice</a></strong> deliberate practice sessions posted 6 days a week. Worth checking out if you're in need for<b><span style="font-size: large;"> <br />a little inspiration to get the inky bits jiggling. :-)</span></b><br />
<br />
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<b><span style="color: red;">Prompt - Bring your Setting to Life - a 10 minute practice</span></b><br />
<br />
The shock ripped through her; the <b>floorboards reached</b> <b>up</b>; grabbed her calves. His voice echoed down the <b>greasy black passage way</b>. Its <b>eternal dark tunnel swallowing </b>the acid bite of old man words.<br />
<br />
She stood alone. Solitary in the middle of the <b>swirling room </b>as it <b>spun a tangled web</b> of taunts from yester–years, and <b>spat</b> from its darkened corners and unpolished recesses, three generations of unspoken shame.<br />
<br />
“I’ve known for a long time,” she called into <b>quivering walls</b>, where <b>peeling paint hissed and sneered</b> at her claims. “I’m not going to pretend anymore,” she added bravely.<br />
<br />
The front <b>door whipped open </b>wide; its creaking <b>rusted hinges rasped an invitation</b> to leave; to walk away from the smear of past mistakes and lies. She obliged; lifted her skirt to her knees and took flight into the <b>crisp silver promise</b> of the moonlit night.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-8291768216087877772014-02-08T03:31:00.000-08:002014-02-08T03:44:27.833-08:00A Gripping Tale<div style="text-align: center;">
So I've started getting the daily prompts from <a href="http://thewritepractice.com/" target="_blank">The Write Practice</a>.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Today's prompt was to tempt us to go out and be a little adventurous.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I've figured I'm not an adventure writer.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
....</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I'm stumped. Adventure has slunk from reach. The possibility
of a lurching, spine tingling tale has retreated in to a dark corner to suck
its thumb and hang its pathetic scared tail between its legs.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ll push on though. Fuck you tale. I’ve got spirit. I'm going to let
these fingers find their way. I'm going to let them climb keys and space bar,
seek new horizons, feel their way through the darkness and discolourations of
an uninspired mind.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You’ll see tale. You’ll wish you’d decided to come. Taken a chance.
Stepped out of your own shadow in to the sometimes shimmering, yet more often flickering light of risk. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I'm unsteady on this line. It’s a shakey ridge without clear
direction. It crumbles as my padded tips step carefully among its worn out keys
and dusty valleys. A whir in the distance spirals up through the metallic vista.
I pause. Breathe deep. Consider its meaning. Is it telling me to retreat? Return
to the tired and murky yawn of the uninspired mind? Retract my steps back
across the qwerty desert into no-hand land?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My heart thumps. Ventricle fists pounding the thoracic cage
like a crazed on fire literati might stampede much this same landscape. It’s aching to be free, to soar into the
danger zone, to grip a tale.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Alas my friend, my heart,” I quietly say “There is no
gripping tale this night.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-28699375124969105832014-02-07T06:08:00.000-08:002014-02-08T03:31:29.829-08:00Happy New 2014Happy New Year.<br />
Yes I know it's February. I've been so busy enjoying summer weather and beachey times that I've successful procrastinated two months of writing practise out in to the ether.<br />
<br />
I'm back now though.<br />
<br />
UPDATE: my first ever attempt at writing a novel is sitting waiting for the last two chapters to pour forth. I aim to complete them in the next fortnight. And my first DRaFT will be complete.<br />
Woo hoo.<br />
Then what? No idea! I'll talk to a writerly friend of mine and get a plan together.<br />
<br />
Also I've been playing with the writing prompts and curiosities on The Write Practice site.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-475456154084389322013-11-20T05:09:00.001-08:002013-11-20T05:11:10.532-08:00Some SoftnessHi<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
At last.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Something soft and sweet has emerged. </span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Where it has surfaced and the reasons why may not be so sweet ... but that it has arrived is fantastic.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I feel a sense of relief today as I write a character into a transitional period of his life. I can feel my writing trying to slow, to get the pace right...not an easy transition when the pace so far has been a little intense to say the least. And although I know I haven't quite nailed it...I'm glad to have got this bit of the story down.<br />
<br />
I will return to wrap it with the tissue paper and soften the edges at a later date..<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Anyway....<b><span style="font-size: large;"> love is in the air..</span></b>. and that's all I'm saying :-)</div>
<br />
Oh and the current <b>Word Count is <span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;">31675</span></b><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;"><b> .</b>.. and to sweeten you up a ...</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
MINI SOFT SENTENCE EXCERPT </div>
<i><br /></i>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>He felt the softness of her thigh, the curve of her belly and the warm and gentle
cushion of her breasts as he landed peacefully on the soft wind of her breath.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Awwhh...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">See ya </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Dawn</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-29206859113686148722013-11-19T06:59:00.001-08:002013-11-19T06:59:13.952-08:00Welling upHowdy<br />
<br />
Well I don't know where to start today.<br />
<br />
I am feeling a surge of story welling up inside me. I have a gutsy/nervy sense of where it's heading and what I need to do to get it there...but what that means in actual words on the page - NO IDEA!<br />
I am absolutely loving just letting it pour itself out.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">And it has poured into <b>30,455</b> words. <br />YEY! CRACKED THE BIG 3-0</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I'm getting frustrated with having to go to work and be a normal everyday citizen. (Darn it.)<br />
<br />
Given the choice I'd much rather just be a 'crazy-writing-bitch-psycho' ... so wrapped up in the story that the lines between reality and the page blur...and the only way out is to go further in.<br />
<br />
Do I sound a tad obsessive or on the verge of such a state. Damn right! Just like the internal weirdness that a couple of my characters have developed; completely of their own accord.<br />
<br />
Anyway today the story took another totally unexpected turn. Words and life purposes turned up, that I hadn't even anticipated.<br />
<br />
Only 12 days to go and hopefully I will have hit my 50,000 word goal. I may not have reached the end of the novel...or... I may have. It really is that loose on this novel expedition.<br />
<br />
For you a little bit of weirdness -<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
A MINI WEIRD EXCERPT</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>She clutched her small back pack to her belly like it
contained all the gold in the world. Indeed she believed it carried the golden
thread to her future. She could feel it tugging her forward; teasing hope into
her next step.</i></div>
<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-53269180522500950232013-11-16T20:39:00.001-08:002013-11-16T20:44:40.507-08:00Jumped ahead<br />
Hi.<br />
Bugle call.<br />
Drum roll.<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Word count 28,666</span></b><br />
<br />
I am not kidding! I am thrilled. Creeping toward the big three zero.<br />
<br />
So in reflection. Its been a tricky couple of days. Some linking plots were short on words and sharp in content. But rather than mope around in despair I accepted that was that and jumped ahead.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>I propelled into a future event that I know is going to happen. </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I know because I've been mulling it over for a while now. So I started playing with the back end of the novel.<br />
<br />
So just as I thought I'd got into the swing of accelerating in a timeline driven linear progression the brakes came on.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>I had to re-check the time-space map and go where the energy is/was. </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Or more precisely where the story was beckoning. And then a U-turn back to the middle, where the abrupt short chapters now seem more fitting and a great platform to continue driving....<br />
<br />
I'm intrigued how the story takes over. I ask "Ok. What are we going to do today?' And there's an almost instant response. Sometimes I baulk and think 'how can I write about that?' But I ve learned to trust whatever gets tapped out is whats meant to come; I can go back and fix up troubled spots later. For now its simply get the story out.<br />
<br />
Todays treat....<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
A SUPER MINI SENTENCE EXCERPT</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>...together they, dissolved the tension of the seas skin and baptized
their unease into a silent watery promise of a new tomorrow.</i> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cheers </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
D</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-69485719754309241672013-11-13T06:50:00.000-08:002013-11-13T06:52:36.795-08:00Sink or SwimHowdy<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Still doing it. Looking at my word count now and wondering how I can stretch this baby out.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Currently sitting on 22, 572 words..</span></b></div>
<br />
WooHoo. Next goal 30,000. <br />
<br />
(And then only 20,000 more to go. Its creeping up...I look to the future and wonder wow how am I going get there. But the story seems to have a way of unravelling itself in to strange and unexpected places.)<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
One of my characters has just spent 2 weeks living under a bridge on the edge of a city. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>I mean, COME ON! Where did that come from?</b></div>
<br />
I woke up this morning, walked out onto the vernadah, looked at the trees, birds, sky, everything really and said out loud "How on earth am I going to move this character along to get to X and be doing X by X."<br />
<br />
I had no answer tonight but I had to get writing. Right?<br />
<br />
So I :<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Picked out a saying from a book "Sink or Swim"</li>
<li>Picked up a pen and poured some ink into 10 mins of stream of consciousness</li>
<li>Which transformed itself magically into a further 10 mins of freefall</li>
</ul>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
And bang ... character has self-verbed into a satisfactory future AND<br />
a sturdy effort toward tonight's word count goal .</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>MAGIC. I tell ya!</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>;-)</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
If you're interested (to be read in the non-judging, non-editing tradition of free-fall) for you a ...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>MINI EXCERPT</b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>In class she is a tenacious and vigorous student
devouring ink and stats. She caresses her books affectionately. Appreciates
their sturdy mass and considers them the bricks that house her future. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>In the library she is an avid researcher. She is obsessed
with parallels that discuss her life when at the time she was a living ghost of
the walls within. The great discourse that narrated her existence from the
outside; yet failed to find her. She has liberated herself; and now
she is the link that bridges the slippery valleys of that divide. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Love<br />
D x</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-79407049001475275772013-11-12T06:21:00.001-08:002013-11-12T06:39:17.608-08:00A twinge of fearHowdy<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Well I'm still doing it. <b>21, 492 words</b> doing it!</span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I have felt a twinge of fear kick in the last couple of days. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
The '<b>eeeeekkkk</b> what on earth am I going to write about' fear?</div>
<br />
Anyway it seems <b>Week Two is notorious in NANO world for the fear</b> to try and take a few shark <b>bites</b> out of the writers tank. A small pep talk from the awesome NaNoWriMo HQ Squad brought that to my attention and offered some kindly words to caress me to continue.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm trying some new ways to try and get into the writer space. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
It's a bit of a tough transition after a day of work and other domestic 'must-do's'....like food! Before dinner tonight I did a couple of pages just 'stream of consciousness'. And made a few notes in my note book about possible mini-plots necessary to tie <i>the</i> PLOT up.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
And now it's officially branded as <b>today's very pleasant surprise</b>.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
It's actually quite fun coming up with some ideas so <b>character</b>s can arrive at a certain <b>headspace</b> and <b>time</b> and <b>place</b> for other interactions to happen.<br />
<br />
It's not really something I've had to deal with before - not coming from a story telling or novel writing background; so a nice little insight now that may be useful to me in the future. Maybe my next NaNo; ha ha.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
In the meantime if you're interested here's today's .....</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>MINI EXCERPT</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">..<i>.walking
up the wooden steps across the road. The pink cotton sarong with big white
hibiscus flowers loosely knotted at her waist fluttered with every step barely
covering her thighs. Her hair rinsed back from her face lay flat wet and glistening in the last linger of twilight. She was singing.</i></span></div>
<br />
Love<br />
D<br />
.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-14095785341572453682013-11-10T20:57:00.000-08:002013-11-11T06:47:16.876-08:00Awkwardness accepted<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">...yesterday was a grind; but I had to write and write I did...</span><br />
<br />
I couldn't even crack a 1000 words. I tried to beat myself up about it and soon realised that was also a waste of creative time and space. So I simply <b>ACCEPTED</b> the fact.<br />
<br />
This morning before starting I decided I'd do some warming up. <b>A bit of handwriting in my notebook to</b><br />
<b> get me past any dragons waiting at the gate</b>. It worked wonders.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
I was able to: </div>
<br />
<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;">check in with myself, </li>
<li style="text-align: left;">mumble out some bullshit excuses in barely legible handwriting, </li>
<li style="text-align: left;">slowly crank up the creative fire and </li>
<li style="text-align: left;">set forth on my NaNoWriMo daily adventure with a clean pure wind in my sails. </li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
My novel effort traverses a decade of the lives of several people; </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
interwoven in ways they know not of.</div>
<br />
As this is the <b>FIRST TIME EVER</b> for me at having a go at writing a novel I am torn between:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li> bedding down too deeply into situation specific condensed time and place and </li>
<li>weaving together the stories across distance of vaster time and space.</li>
</ul>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
So I'm throwing in both. Tah Dah!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And they are emerging in interesting ways. </div>
<br />
It's the essence of those embedded moments that I need to explore to expose the depth and quirk of characters; but it's the across time that I need to expose the main theme that is emerging. (A theme that definitely was NOT PLANNED).<br />
<br />
So today I felt like I could finish the story off with 3 or 4 paragraphs. They would loosely go something like this: She does this. Then he does that. Then they all meet. And then this happens. The End.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
And aha! <b>BINGO!</b></div>
<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><b>I realised my sneaky little 'rush-to-the-goal post; get- the- job- done- as- quickly- as- you- can</b>' writing dragon had nipped in under the drago-dar. </b></div>
<b>
</b>
<br />
<br />
Note to Dawn: SLOW DOWN. ENJOY THE PROCESS. DONT GET CAUGHT UP IN NANOWRIMO FEVER. KNOW YOURSELF.<br />
<br />
I picked a word today to play with in my warm up (out of my Writing without a Parachute: The Art of Freefall book) I picked the word...<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>AWKWARDNESS.</b></div>
<br />
<br />
I was feeling awkward, stuck. In fact as I started my NANO this morning it seems I was also resisting unpacking and instilling the awkwardness into a very awkward and unclear relationship in the story.<br />
<br />
So today I got stuck in to that ...and realise that for my own sake I do have to offer more than 3 or 4 paragraphs to this story.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Today I wrote nearly 2,000 words in one hour and my current </div>
<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><b><br /></b></b></div>
<b>
</b>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><b>TOTAL WORD COUNT IS 18,800</b></b><br />
<b><b>(Yee-hah! :-))</b></b><br />
<b><b><br /></b></b></div>
<b>
</b>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>TODAY'S AWKWARD MINI EXCERPT</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Shaz wanted to ask if he was alright. She wanted to reach
over and wipe his forehead with a tissue. She wanted to touch his forearm and
reassure him. Most of all she wanted him to speak to her. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Her uncertainty piled emotion upon emotion. Her curiousity confused
and confronted her more than his awkwardness. But she knew it was more than
just her ridiculous desire to help him; even perhaps save him from his shyness
and liberate him into the world. There was something much more intriguing about this
man.</i></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-44907857437807096722013-11-09T04:22:00.002-08:002013-11-09T04:22:57.930-08:00A quick update<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>BANG!</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Slammed it. 16,000 words folks.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yey. </div>
<br />
A slog today. A sketchy chapter that I'm defo going to have to go back to. I feel like the story is in there but it lacks atmosphere, or depth. It could be a connector. Anyway I've done it.<br />
<br />
And a slight awakening of possibility today for one of my MCs. Just a glimpse of what could be.<br />
Not saying anymore.<br />
I'll post another excerpt tomorrow.<br />
Until then ... I am going to flop on the big soft couch with my husband and reassure him that he is truly more important to me than 1500 words a day...(maybe some little breakaway ideas or mini plots will have time to ease up through my to relaxed mind muscles.<br />
I'll keep a note pad handy ;-)<br />
<br />
I'm on track, a little ahead in fact. Yey!<br />
Another successful day.<br />
<br />
Lv DAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-71169782666960929592013-11-08T07:19:00.000-08:002013-11-08T07:28:58.485-08:00How many words?Hi<br />
I was aiming to crack the big 15,000. Not quite there;<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
BUT a very healthy <b><span style="font-size: large;">14,495 words.</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hooly Dooly. I am <span style="font-size: large;">happy</span> with that.</div>
<br />
<b>TRUTH</b>: I had a bit of a battle tonight.<br />
<br />
Really I should have just sat down and started to write afresh. But alas I decided to transcribe some of my handwritten notes that were quickly filigreed in the coffee shop this morning. <br />
<br />
Nothing wrong with them <u>but</u> I have discovered that once I am transcribing Little Miss Editor wants to place her sticky-beak-pen in and then, well the flow stops, the back and forth, delete, check, re-read little devil with red pointy ears begins to shriek and point out where improvements could be made or attempted.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">So a great discovery ... </span></i></div>
<i><div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">only transcribe when I have completely no other mojo or </span></i></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">just as a hand warm up rather than an actual creative purge</span></i>.</div>
</span></i><br />
<br />
I sent Little Miss Editor packing anyway. I told her that while I appreciated her ability she could 'Pee off' back to her office out the back and wait until I called her. She was happy to do that.<br />
<br />
But by then creative zap had withered a little, Friday night fatigue got comfy and the words a bit clunky. Still I got some frames put together. they can be revisited and decorated and hung with tasty detail a little later. (AFTER NOVEMBER ;-) )<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I can't believe I've got this far.<span style="font-size: large;"> AMAZING</span>. And because I've got this far<br /> I am <span style="font-size: large;">MOTIVATED</span> to keep on going. And tomorrow being <br />Saturday who knows what might <span style="font-size: large;">HAPPEN</span> (after the housework of course).</div>
<br />
And I can confidently say that 'Housework' is not a procrastinator disguised in an old t-shirt, carrying a vacuum cleaner for protection. It gives me time to go inside my head and let flutters of poetic possibility coagulate or coalesce into whimsy and aha's and what-ifs.<br />
<br />
So below, another unedited, free-flow paragraph/taster. But only if you're up for it.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span>
</b><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>TODAY'S<span style="text-align: center;"> TINY EXCERPT</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>When he saw her he felt that old tension creep back into his
belly. That caged fucking animal that could not get out; that had to drop its
tail and slink away from the bright of day. Women made him nervous. They just
had to look you in the eye when they spoke. Had to ask so many fuckin’ stupid
questions. And stare waiting for an answer or filling in the space if he wasn’t
quick enough. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>He felt that scarlet train seep up the wall of ribs and roar toward
his chest; packed up his tools and walked back to the shed.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>G'night</i><br />
<i>Lv D</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-986550100663477622013-11-06T06:11:00.000-08:002013-11-06T06:11:01.308-08:00Carving through the wallOK<br />
<br />
Update time! Another 1700 words tonight. Yey :-)<br />
<br />
Riding on the fast horse, got my 'come-on-girl-get-on-with-it' whip out tonight.<br />
Intention was good. I even had an idea about the chapter I was going to work through. That went out of the window.<br />
<br />
First sentence clumsy but I decided to carry on. Just kept tapping the qwerty. My fingers were beginning to warm up. And so was my excitement.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I could feel the awkwardness; like I wasn't letting it flow in the right direction. <br />I had to trust that I could let go of the reins and at some point the story would take over ..it did.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Its a good thing - Trust.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
The outcome only a fragment of what I'd planned in terms of covering a section of story...<b>BUT</b> it really spaced out a gap for me. One that I knew was there but had no idea how (or when) I was going to build a bridge of words and/or worlds to span it.<br />
<br />
I'm happy with the outcome. I'm surprised at the turn of events. One of my main character's (MC) is beginning to freak me out. She is cooking on the inside.<br />
<br />
So another sharing. Unedited word- flow free-fall style...it' will all get polished later. Read with care....<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>TODAYS LITTLE EXCERPT</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Unknowingly and even innocently Shaz’s unidentifiable beast
had stormed its fiery tongue into a leading National newspaper. She didn’t have
to beg for editorial space, or send media releases into an un-answering abyss.
She’d carved through an ‘ol’ boys school’ wall with-out even noticing the
brickwork. Her naivety was both her sword and her shield. And her growing
following, both for and against, became her job security. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
More to follow.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Love D</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-90002939205617388172013-11-05T05:56:00.000-08:002013-11-05T05:58:24.625-08:00Still running...whoops, writingHowdy<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Well, well, well</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>
I've hit my first milestone and then kept on running.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I truly can''t believe it.</div>
<br />
Its no secret I lack a writers commitment, which is compounded by a lack of objective writing goals.<br />
(And I am seriously <u>not</u> a runner!)<br />
<br />
<b>BUT</b> this NaNoWriMo totally crazy, mad, nutso goal of 50, 0000 words, no matter what, seems to be thawing the procrastinator ice cap.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Seriously!</b></div>
<br />
Now that I've found out how to scramble my work and then upload my words for validation and watched the little graph go UP UP UP I am...<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>...totally</b> excited.</div>
<br />
<br />
I've broken the 5,000 word (1st Milestone)' totally whipped it's skinny little arse :-)<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>AND AND AND</b></div>
<br />
I've skidded past the 10,000 word (2nd milestone) still with tonnes of creative wind in my sails..<br />
<br />
We're 5 days in - I'm keen to keep up the pace, turn up to the keyboard, let it roll.<br />
<br />
And below a little sneak preview of a few words just for you...but only if you're remotely interested and as committed to reading without judging or editing or critiquing, which is exactly how I'm writing at the moment. (words first...works later). :-)<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>TODAYS EXCERPT</b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>He was there she could hear him fumbling with the old brass
lock at the back door. And finally when the lock released she heard him falling in to the
kitchen, the door banging on the small pantry at its back, the screech of
metal chair legs across the boards, a
falling pot, a shout. Silence. Even the walls ceased to groan.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> Gwen pulled her
blanket close, eyes wide, knees curled up tight; and reached to hold a spindly bar on the cot beside her bed. The twins
slept; sweet angel breath and curls of stale breast milk formed a halo in the
darkness. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
More later. Bye for Now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
D</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-6023882955884358042013-11-03T21:11:00.003-08:002013-11-03T21:11:59.529-08:00Ready Set Go!Hi<br />
I may have mentioned I've signed up for the NaNoWriMo challenge. Well I'm on my way. I did get off to a slow start mostly down to procrastination and a very busy week :-)<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I'm still not sure that I'll reach <b>the golden 50,000 words</b> <br />but it's great to have something driving me forth.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I have a storyline (kind of). Though it's really just to get me started...who knows what plots and changes could happen once the penstress takes over. I'm not even a story teller or story writer. <b>So it's a month of 'first times' for me</b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Its also a great way to link in with other writers all over the world<br /> from across genres, diverse ages and experience.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
For me its a major challenge. Its the first time I've actually set myself a writing 'project' and a 'goal'.<br />
Usually I just write for the pure hell or joy of it. I have absolutely no sense or idea of what genre, style, audience I write for. 'I write for me' is usually the best (but meek) answer I seem to be able to come up with.<br />
I also don't write with the intention for sharing, competing or publishing.<br />
<br />
However lately I'm feeling more like just getting out there. Not to achieve anything (I've certainly let go of that old dress) but more just to share.<br />
<br />
So here I am just happily pumping away at the words; trying to set myself a reasonable daily target yet not bothered if I don't get there. Its <b>a writers bliss :</b>-)<br />
<br />
I am largely free-falling so the story can unfold its own magic...here's a little sample from the middle of a chapter that popped out of nowhere, in to the Western Australian Desert and then onto my lap-top this morning...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>**********</i></div>
<i>She loved the open space, the giant curve of big
blue sky, the seemingly endless horizon.</i><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>No limits to her flight and no end to her
imagination. Her mind ran wild with possibilities of freedom, driving into an
eternal sunset, chasing the magenta chalks that curved the western sky and
arched into rippling purple skirts to the east at the end of each day.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>But this morning driving out with these women
she felt an urgent desire to run away and hide.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>"You alright sister?" Daisy asked smiling from
cheek to cheek curving a row of missing teeth and surly grey whiskers on her top lip. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>“This is good one this one. This one make you a sister now. For sure.”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>She tapped the
cracked black steering wheel as the Troopie bounced and bucked over the hard corrugated track and deadly pothole</i></span></span><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>s. </i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>****************</i></span></span></div>
<br />
More coming...stay tuned :-)<br />
<br />
D<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-81430004352480816162013-10-14T09:11:00.000-07:002013-10-14T09:42:27.924-07:00Sitting on top of the world<br />
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<b>...can't believe how nervous and excited I am...</b></div>
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Recently I've been chomping my way through <a href="http://www.freefallwriting.com/freefall/home.html" target="_blank">Writing Without a Parachute: the Art of Freefall</a> by Barbara Turner-Vesselago. To keep up with the book <b>I have to write everyday</b>. Its been brilliant. Revealed my Writers Dragons and dredged up some long forgotten stories that have become little 'shorts' in their own right. I'll re-visit them some time in the future.<br />
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<i>However, in the mean time, and the more exciting news is<br /> that it has has propelled me (like a rocket) to actually having a go at writing<br /> a 50,000 word (minimum) piece of work.</i></div>
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(Unheard of for me. A total far-off fantasy. Feel like I'm sitting on top of the world.)</div>
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Yes I'm actually going to write a novel. I have signed up with<a href="http://nanowrimo.org/" target="_blank"> NaNoWriMo</a> with 80,000 (plus) others from around the world and committed myself to a month of <b>'just doing it'</b>. I can't fail, the only goal I have is to <i><b>have a go</b></i> for myself. (The goal is to complete in ONE month: November.)<br />
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<i>It's not for anyone or anything else other than me. <br />It doesn't have to be perfect, it doesn't have to have an audience or an outcome. <br />It doesn't have to be graded, peer reviewed, riveting, publishable, or best-seller material. <br />It simply has to hit 50,000 words or more in one month.</i></div>
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Just signing up with a blank canvas has propelled me forward. So far I've got:<br />
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<ul><ul><ul><ul>
<li>a rough story, </li>
<li>a bit of a skeleton/story-board, </li>
<li>several linked plots, </li>
<li>four key characters</li>
<li>and a focus and reason to write.</li>
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The real writing begins 1/11/13. But in the meantime I have developed the characters.<br />
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<i>Already way ahead! </i><i> </i></div>
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I have never in my life sat down and actually run through a character development process.<br />
Filling in details about each of the players including physical details, aspirations, perceptions, favourite foods, bad habits, inner and outer personality traits, dreams, fears, hobbies, secrets etc, has already sunk me into another layer of the story.<br />
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<i>I've surprised myself with the depth and twist of each of their characters. </i></div>
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<i><i>And especially the light and dark of the human condition that accompanies all of us.</i> </i></div>
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Just by doing this process I've stumbled across an intriguing parallel between two of the personalities that I wasn't even aware of. I am so looking forward to letting the story pour its own juice. The idea has landed. The scene has been set. I have no idea about the content. I'm simply going to sit down and write every night and let it flow.<br />
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All controls will be turned off. Inner critic, pedantic editor, merciless judge will just have to take a back seat and give the <b>creative magic of a free-falling penstress</b> lots of space to dance and sing and write.<br />
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<i>Write through the block, write through the terror, write 'fear-ward'.</i></div>
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And here, just for you, a sneak preview at the very, very, very brief synopsis:<br />
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<i>Three young women, a weekend summer music festival, and a tale that weaves and weeps both tatters and tapestry of unexpected experience and consequence over the next decade of their lives. </i><br />
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<i> Intimacy comes at a cost. Shame, guilt, fear and the need for forgiveness or revenge stalk the shadows, underpin life choices and demand attention.</i><br />
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I'll keep you posted<br />
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Lv D<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-48961704718004555422013-10-08T08:07:00.000-07:002013-10-14T08:06:49.254-07:00Stoking the FireOk; stoking the tale telling fire lately.<br />
Got my motor running.<br />
Daily practise installed.<br />
Several approaches being tested and enjoyed.<br />
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Totally loving Freefall Without a Parachute. Working through the chapters and going 'fear ward' where the energy is..certainly stirring up some old tales. I'm really noticing my style of diving in. Not with the grace of an Olympian diver more with the circling tactic of an uncertain vulture...but when the moment is ripe diving in to the emotion of a moment or series of moments.<br />
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Following the wonderful guidance and stimulating prompts of this book is an interesting and inspiring journey. I am doing several 10 to 20 minute 'free falls' and an hour a day more intense writing block.<br />
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And a sucker for a challenge I've also signed up for the NaNoWriMo. <br />
That is NAtional NOvel WRiting MOnth.<br />
No sweat: 50,000 words in a month. More if you can.<br />
So about 1600 words a day, every day. Good for a first draft of something.<br />
What? I don't know. No idea. Just going to see what emerges. Ha ha.<br />
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So I am writing. Not blogging though.<br />
I'll get back and share a few things later. It's nice to be pouring some words and nouns and verbs out of the grey matter though. Watching the ink treacle itself across the papyrus or decorate the LCD is my favourite play time.<br />
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Weather's starting to come good to...spring, then summer. Yey beach, sea, sun, fun! Bring it on.<br />
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Lv DAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-14309362745809218722013-08-14T07:17:00.001-07:002013-08-16T02:08:15.014-07:00My sons birthdaySeems like the right thing to do -yeah- write something on <b>my sons birthday</b>.<br />
My oldest son is now <b>20</b>. Jeez where did that time go? Flick.<br />
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<i>I stayed up late last night so I could be the first to offer him birthday wishes on Facebook. I know I'm sweet right! Ok and a bit mad. And a bit totally love my son.</i></div>
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He doesn't live with us as he's moved up to study at uni, share a crowded flat, play guitar and flip burgers in his spare time. So I didn't get to hang out with him, watch him blow out candles, unwrap gifts and other general birthday capers. But <b>I couldn't stop thinking about him all day</b>. I'd already Face-Booked him and rung him up first thing in the morning. I couldn't just keep contacting him all day. So I just sent him silent love puffs through the ether. (Yes, I've already confessed to being a tad mad.)<br />
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However my younger son, nearly 17, did have to sit and listen to my husband and I do the <b>count down</b> that went some thing like this...<br />
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<i> " ...at this time 20 my years ago I was walking around the ward, stopping to rock every so often" </i></div>
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Followed by <b>hourly recounts</b> of his older brothers <b>birthing story.</b> ( Not a pretty one either, far from natural and wonderful. More very long, hard work and then a very rushed emergency caesarian.) The worse thing is we didn't stop there. Oh no, no, no, no, no...<br />
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<i>...we then continued to reminisce about the younger sons birth story. </i></div>
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Also not pretty. Damned difficult - complete with two obstetricians at the end of the bed with white coats, goggles, suction cup and forceps, each of them balanced on one white gumboot while their other gum-booted foot leveraged against the end of the birthing bed. I told you not pretty. And <b>I doubt that my 16 (nearly 17) year old really wanted the details.</b><br />
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Anyway it dawned on me that this is how you <b>celebrate birthdays</b> when your young have flown the nest. An hour by hour vigil and countdown to the moment. The <b>very special moment</b>, that no matter what the circumstance, will always and forever remain <b>very special moments</b>.<br />
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<i>Life-giving, Life-time moments...</i></div>
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And I wonder when the grandchildren come along (if and when they do - no pressure - and at this point certainly no hurry), will I be sharing the birth story of my sons to my sons as their sons (or daughters) burst in to the world.<br />
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<i>Life goes on...</i></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1242094080798947614.post-7908241769540724512013-07-02T08:04:00.003-07:002013-07-02T21:25:35.687-07:00Touching Hearts<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: 12px;">It's been a while. Too long! I've been leading a blog-less existence. Stumbling around in the shortened light of a southern solstice. Seeking words and inspiration in the half-light. Misplacing ideas. Distracted by curious dark tales and fading shadows.</span></div>
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I've had quite a contracted solstice experience. Rather than being pulled in by my creative inner magnet I've been pushed in by the squeeze of the shortened days. </div>
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A seasonal bottleneck. </div>
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<i>I've not felt like writing - instead I have been colouring-in. </i></div>
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Yes I confess I find playing with soft pastels that can be smudged, rubbed and blended using all my fingers and palms very cathartic. I find the waves of colour, and ease of gentle mixing a great way to let go and just let the magic happen. </div>
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<i>It's aimless, goal-less and pointless. It has no actual rational adult-world reason. </i></div>
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<i>I don't care what happens, where the patterns start or stop, </i></div>
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<i>what it looks like , if it's finished, </i></div>
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<i>if it says or means anything.</i> </div>
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I let my tongue poke out, curl to the left and lick my top lip. I'm like an 8 year old deeply embedded in my own mysterious moment. </div>
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<i>I don't analyse the colourful pages. </i><i>I don't label them. </i></div>
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<i>I don't seek any validation for their childlike impressions. </i></div>
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<i>I simply LOVE the experience. </i></div>
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I love feeling calm, peaceful, unhindered, relaxed and creative.</div>
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Blank white becomes full colour. Lines flow, swirls appear, and my heart opens up. Truly, as I let go of the need to do anything but play, I can feel my heart peeping through a </div>
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window in my chest; checking out the terrain.</div>
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<i>Slowly she peels back the lacey curtain that veils her solstice view and recognises the magnificence of doing nothing; just being with a blank page.</i> </div>
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She stretches into the possibility of a long winter full of the beauty </div>
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of smudged shadows and blurred pastels. </div>
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She is touched by the innocence and the unconditional invitation to just let go and play. </div>
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<i>And she opens the window...</i></div>
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<i>into the world of hearts.</i></div>
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</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08587459937295989431noreply@blogger.com0