Secondly

Shameful

2011-10-19T13:47:00.000-07:00

It has been a long, long, long time. But I'm (intending to be) back.

I am about to face a couple of weeks of marking portfolios and then I am determined to get moving with my second novel. The first chapter was accepted for the 4th Floor Literary Journal which launches soon - exciting!

I feel as if I've never been so busy in my life. Good busy, enriching busy, learning heaps busy. It's not exactly as if I've ignored my writing altogether - teaching it keeps my brain going, I've joined a Book Club, and Writers' Group continues to be insightful. I just haven't been doing much of the putting-pen-to-paper part.

But I will. I shall. I need to.

How about I check in again in a week? Sweet.

Kind of...

2011-05-19T15:41:00.000-07:00

Well, I haven't quite fulfilled all my goals re:writing competitions yet but I HAVE sent off a copy of 'Your Dad' (a long time ago it was called 'Wrapped in newspaper') to the BNZ Katherine Mansfield Competition, which felt good. I also put in two entries for the short-short story comp. on Facebook. I don't have high hopes but it was valuable to redraft and redraft, to basically live the stories for a while there.

I had intended to enter the Takahe competition but the two stories I was working on still aren't there yet. I need something 'bigger' to happen in one, and for a more significant lightbulb moment in the other. Oh, I also sent in a submission for the 4th Floor - a piece I could definitely have worked a bit more on.

Today I'm distracted by another story which is beginning to grow, called 'Thinning.' I've jotted down some notes, have a clear idea of the protagonist and setting, the mood is getting clearer, but I started to write and it's not ready yet. It felt too pedestrian to begin in a busy cafe, with Renee spotting an old flame and having that shuddery what-was-I-thinking feeling. I think it still needs that beginning but I need to amp it up a hell of a lot to lift it from chick-lit.

Less than two weeks until D and I scarper off on holiday. We had a friend's funeral this week, and it really got me thinking about what, and who, is important. John was a wonderful fella and always took the time to talk to kids, on their level even though it hurt his creaking knees. He loved being outside and noticed everything. He was all about community. And he looked like a movie star.

I've been reading up a storm:

Cloudstreet (Tim Winton)

We have to talk about Kevin (Lionel Shriver)

Revolutionary Road (Richard Yates)

Relief (Anna Taylor)

All exceptional. All disconcerting, except Cloudstreet which is so very beautiful.

Yep

2011-04-12T18:41:00.000-07:00

Mid-April and I've been chugging away, getting some pieces written and day dreaming about my novel-to-be. Doing Kate's course has been excellent. I've met deadlines, workshopped and, best of all, felt inspired again. Tomorrow's the last class which is sad, especially as I'd hoped to have re-drafted each piece but have some nasty flu-type thing and am conserving every atom of energy for the kids this afternoon. I did try to post one of my drafts but blogspot is being all stubborn again so nevermind. I might try it out at W.G on Monday instead. Feeling like a hibernating caterpiller has meant I've read the first half of Tim Winton's Cloudstreet and I am loving every single word. Love, love, love. P.S. I have gone back THREE times to show blogspot where I want the paragraphs to be and as soon as I hit publish, they disappear. Rascally blogspot.

March-ing on

2011-03-10T00:20:00.000-08:00

Story 3! This one is a first draft - I feel mean inflicting such early drafts on you but feedback early on is so helpful. I wrote this as homework for Kate's course and am not happy with it yet. Do I trivialise 'corporal punishment' too much/treat it too lightly? How much else do I need to bring in?

Note: I used memory as a starting point but amped up a few parts (i.e. exaggerated) to build a 'story'. No, Mum, I wasn't scarred for life. You've always been the most wonderful Mum xxx

Thanks heaps to the darling people who have posted a comment and/or emailed me - such insightful thoughts which I am definitely taking heed of.

Here goes:

The Flyswat

I'm sitting at the kitchen table, trying to write a list of all the things I need to do this week. It's feeling overwhelming and so far there's not much on there that I actually want to do. It's all about everyone else and it all involves spending more money. The dishes are taunting me and I had to use the kids' blue milk in my tea. It's just not right.

That's when I notice the fly. It creeps along the table top. Run, run, stop, flickety flick. I can't stand flies, especially in my kitchen.

I sweep my paper at it and it flits off for a moment, only to return to the exact same spot.

Buzz off! Away. Back. Shoo! Away. Straight back but I don't give it time to land. Away. Back. Persistent little shit.

I'm going to have to squash it with something. How disgusting. It's disgusting. Fly guts and one waving leg stuck to the world section. Extremely disgusting.

* ***********************************************************************************

My sister dials then hits speaker phone.

"Hello, the Jackson residence."

"Um, hi, um... is Michael there?"

"No."

"What about Janet?"

"La Toya!" My sister yells.

"Keep going," says the man on the other line. "See if you can remember them all."

"I can't."

"Then, beat it!" He hangs up.

We shriek with laughter, until we realise Dad's standing there, not laughing, and weilding The Flyswat.

************************************************************************************

Sunday evening and the sheep dog trials are on t.v. We sit in front of the fire to dry our long hair once Mum's fought through it with the comb. She's making pudding. Dad's squeezing her bum in the kitchen.

I like the dogs but the sheep are stupid. My sister hates the piercing whistles from the farmers. She gives me a sideways look and creeps on her knees over to the remote - in those days a box attached to a long, long cord leading into the back of the television. Two whole channels to choose from. She slides the sound up and down then plays with the brightness so the sheep go fluorescent green then a murky grey. I glance over and see that my parents are doing the dishes, arguing about something and are oblivious to what Emily's doing.

The credits start to roll and there's the theme music which always makes us do silly dances. Next thing you know, my sister's twirling the cord like a skipping rope and I'm ducking my head was down so I can jump in the loop.

Flyswat. No pudding. Bed.

*************************************************************************************

My sister tramps the smelliest dog pooh in the world right through the house. It's so bad her shoes get thrown out.

Yep, flyswat.

*************************************************************************************

I'm stuck. I'm slipping. There's nowhere for my feet to go. My nose is almost touching a filthy spider's web and it's all too much. I scream and scream and scream a bit more.

Mum comes running, torn away from her typewriter and her looming deadline.

There's me, hanging onto the corner of the shed's roof, the woodpile beneath me, wearing roller skates.

"Can't you girls behave for just five minutes?"

"You don't even care." I shouldn't have said it.

I get the flyswat for that one.

*************************************************************************************

We've begged and begged to try this new yoghurt, all because of the ad. The one where the French rugby team are all lined up and the selector points from one to the other: "You play, you play, you play and you play."

But it's plain unsweetened yoghurt and it tastes like sick.

I feel it bubble up in my mouth. My sister makes a burpy noise and I laugh. Yoghurt erupts from me, from her.

Swat.

*************************************************************************************

Then, of course, there's the time of the mouse. Dad and Tom-over-the-back work nightshift and the whole neighbourhood knows to be quiet when they're catching up on sleep.

Emily and I are playing nicely with all our soft toys lined up on the couch waiting turns to be issued library books. Three each, maximum.

Shadow, the cat, slaps through the flyscreen and stares at us with his yellow eyes. "Rrrrrooooowwwww." He announces, letting go of the mouse in his mouth.

It runs towards us, it's beady, panicked eyes looking straight at me.

We scream and squeal and climb up the back of the couch. The mouse darts here and there. Shadow torments it. We throw our toys at him and shriek some more.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Dad grabs my arm, ignores the mouse and the cat, and reaches for the flyswat. I twist away and the chase begins.

I can remember laughing so hysterically that snot came out, and crouching in a corner of my sister's room holding up a doll's highchair for protection.

That time he used his belt instead. I guess the flyswat never seemed so bad after that.

February = Story 2

2011-02-15T13:15:00.000-08:00

Howdy. I'm going to cheat a bit here and deviate from my novel idea by using a story I started at Writers Group the other week. There's a reason for this: the month is spinning by and it just gets busier from here PLUS I'm totally distracted and sad. Our wee cat, Tigerrr, was killed by a car last week and we're all missing him terribly. The boys are needing lots of hugs and I hate seeing them miserable. It makes it hard to read back over my previous story.

Next week I start Kate's course, we have WG on Monday, and I'm managing to catch a couple of Fringe plays. I've started reading a novel that wasn't penned by Tim Winton and am struggling to get into it at this stage but will make more of an effort.

As always, any feedback is welcome. A few kind souls emailed me re: the last story which I appreciated. The first part of the first line (in bold) was from one of Winton's short stories, 'Long, Clear View' in The Turning. We used it as a starter. The photo above made me laugh and creeped me out, from a fishing website. Now, here's what I've got so far (let's see where it takes me...):

Wrapped up in newspaper

You lie awake and listen to the rumble of talk, the clinking of glass, through the excuse of a wall. Your sister and you share a double bed and neither of you want the sheets. You've kicked at them until they lie like a hill between you. In the orangey light that seeps under the curtains, you can see her sprawled on her back, one arm a bridge off the bed, her mouth open. She always falls asleep first.

Where are you again? Kaikoura. In a motel with shrunken curtains and an even thinner wall.

Your parents, your aunties, your uncles - well, some of them - and Uncle Hop's mate, John, are all through there, drinking up a storm. Your cousins are off in their units probably watching adult t.v. or asleep by now. Aunty Jean said she'd stay in her room and keep an eye and an ear out. You smile, thinking of her missing an eye and an ear. She'd look really creepy.

You sigh and stare at the dirty ceiling. You make your own eyes wider and wider until they hurt and you hope that will make you need to sleep. But it doesn't. You can't hear the words but you can pick the laughter of each of them easily enough, especially your Dad's guffaw. He's telling some 'tall tales', you can tell.

A door slams. Your sister jumps. Your heart almost touches the ceiling.

"Crayfish!" you hear Uncle Roy boom. You climb over your sister and sneak the door open, slowly. Nobody notices you because they're all cheering and looking at Uncle Roy's bundle of newspaper with orange sticks poking out in every direction.

Your Dad leaps up as your uncle goes to lie it down on the formica table. Aunties move beer cans and glasses to make room.

"It's a whopper," your Dad whistles as he peels back the paper.

You squeeze in closer, still invisible. You've never seen a crayfish in real life before. The orangey-purpley skin is bumpy, the plated tail curled, but it's the eyes you notice. Eyes on stalks. Little eyes for living in darkness. Even though it's dead, it looks as if it might grab at you any moment.

You try to imagine it alive, hiding in crevices, creeping along using those long antennae to feel its way, using those claws to fend away whoever it was who saw it as kai.

"Has it been boiled?" Mum's asking.

"Yeah, the works. Been in a fridge since yesterday. Ready for eating," Uncle Roy says to her, then announces, "Now, this is why we're here!"

You look from person to person and there's greed in their eyes. Uncle Roy sets to work ripping it to pieces and piling it on a plate while they all watch.

At some point your Mum realises you're there and pulls you onto her knee. "You should be fast asleep," she murmurs in your hot ear.

You watch it being torn up, watch as half of it gets discarded in the crumpled newspaper, watch the adults sucking the skinny legs and peeling away the armour.

Mum offers you a leg but you're not that brave yet. You put a chunk of its flesh in your mouth and taste that sea taste. It's good.

When your Dad looks over and sees you eating, he gives you the thumbs up. "Where's your sister? Gonna invite her to the feast?"

No. You want this for you.

When you leave in the morning, you look back at the crayfish's carcass wrapped in newspaper and stuffed in the motel rubbish bin. You remember the greed.

Title? Ending? What's missing? Cheers.

2nd half

2011-01-29T14:22:00.000-08:00

Ears for the comments (see my previous post for a reply in comments), they were supportive and gave me stuff to think about.
I've just written the second half and, as always, it's rough. My endings are always a bit crap and sudden. Any thoughts would be welcomed.
Writers' Group starts back this Monday AND I've enrolled in the wonderful Kate Mahoney's short story course which kicks off at the end of Feb. I'm serious about this one a month goal, see!!!!

Thinking about it later, I realise that there are a hell of a lot of questions I haven't asked. I have no idea how far along she is, if she's seen a doctor, who else she's told... It's enough for me at the moment to hear that she is and to know that I'm in trouble.

I look around the kitchen we don't own. I look down at my paint-flecked hands. I look anywhere but at her sitting there with her need to be appeased. Supported. I just can't do it.

I'm definitely not the first to be faced with this news and I won't be the last but I would far rather have escaped it all together. Thirty-four and selfish as hell.

There's a plethora of silence. Eventually she crumbles into herself for the briefest of moments then gathers herself up and leaves me sitting there. I expect to feel ripped, guilty, mean and she expects me to follow her, to attempt to fix this mess. But, like I said, I just feel shat on.

Fresh air. I move out onto the balcony and lean on the rail which is splattered with sparrow shit. The clouds have swallowed the sky. The cat's down there with a neighbourhood adversary. I hadn't noticed him flick back through the cat door, leap down onto the perilous fence and thump down onto the washed out deck. He's proof that time continued while my life twisted.

Both cats have their ears back. Tails swishing. Waiting for the other to make a move. Ellie and me. Ellie. Me. A baby. Shit.

The other cat, Tui, moves down a step then taunts him by smooching up against it, closer and closer to him. Shadow remains crouched. He doesn't want to fight. Neither of them does.

We've got no money. I don't even think I love her. We've been together since March last year so thirteen months, only just a year.

Suddenly there's a low growl, a hiss, a whack. I look down and she's the bigger one, looming over him. He's on the deck, ears completely flat. They're both puffed up and his tail is saying it all, swishing and swirling while he tries to keep the rest of his body frozen, his mouth wide in a silent hiss.

They stay like that and I hold my breath. Slowly, gently, he slinks off up the steps at the side of the house, out onto the street. She noses around for a bit then returns over the shaking fence having chased him away from his own home. I have no idea what she wanted.

Not sure whether to leave it at that or add this line:

So, this is me and this is the direction I'm being steered in.

Experiment

2011-01-25T14:11:00.000-08:00

Howdy. I haven't done it this way before so I'm giving it a go, a bit nervously. Here's the opening of my first story and it's as far as I've got. It's based on my ideas and characters for my second novel - I'm seeing if they'll take me somewhere. Please feel free to comment/ask questions etc, my kind friends!

Here goes. First draft, remember (well, second in a way as I'm typing it up and will probably tweak it as I go)....

Choice.

Once you know, you have to make a choice. Go with it. Roll with it. Run. Fight. Lie. Sigh.

We're sitting at our kitchen table in the fading light of a Wednesday. The cat, Shadow, is peering through the cat door. Normally he'd just bowl on through pleading, "Now? Now?" It's dinner time but it's like he knows better - he stays outside.

Ellie's excited. There's no music on and that bugs me. As soon as I walked in the front door she had captured me and led me into the kitchen. "I've got some news. Sit down, Ben!"

I'm waiting. She'll tell me but right now she's loving the suspense. She's quite a drama queen, I've come to realise. There's a slight smile that she's trying to hide and her cheeks are flushed. She's sitting up straight, taking a deep breath, taking my hand...

"We're pregnant."

The cat crashes through the flap and stares at me, tail in the air, before racing back to look out at whatever's chasing him. A cat with the jitters.

I want my hand back but leave it where it is in her hands which feel like claws. The fact that I'm distracted by the cat pisses her off. I can't look at her but the longer I hesistate the more upset she'll be. Time moves forward but I'm stuck. She's way ahead of me here. Anything I say will be remembered. Held against me.

"Ben?"

The cat crouches, tail spasming.

"I don't know what to... say."

"How about, I don't know, something like wow? Or great? Ask me how I'm feeling? Hug me? Something."

I could. But I don't.

I feel as if I've been delivered into a soap opera. Anything I say has been said before. She waits with her lip quivering.

"I wasn't expecting this. I mean, how long have you known? Suspected?" The second sentence comes out with a touch of an American accent, totally subconsciously.

She sits back in her chair and folds her arms. Cold. I know then that she planned this. No way is this an accident. I feel completely and utterly shat on.

To be continued... perhaps!

2011

2011-01-15T23:07:00.000-08:00

Laugh if you like, but I have set myself a goal. Deep breath. To write a short story a month this year. That's 12 stories. Crikey.
I'm figuring I'll draw on the characters of my 2nd novel and see where they take me, see if there is actually a novel in it.
And enter a competition or two. Workshop. Y'know.
Have read two books so far this year: Margaret Atwood's The Year of the Flood and Tim Winton's Turning. Loved both of them for totally different reasons. Tim Winton's short stories are all connected and that's what I'd been considering with this 12 stories project so great timing.
It's Jan 15th - only two weeks to get my first story sorted! Nothing to it but to do it.

Get on with it!

2010-11-26T22:31:00.000-08:00

I could spend hours trying to find a design I'm happy with and not actually post anything - how ridiculous would that be?

It's time. Time to say out loud that I am putting New Town aside (for now, but not forever) and am concentrating on my next novel idea. Working title is Knowing. I have been jotting down thoughts, researching certain areas of interest, and getting to know two of the new characters. My main protagonist is a guy - and I like him, so far.

BUT I have vowed not to put pen to paper until I've done a bit more thinking through of the main story line. At this stage it could go in two different directions, depending on whether he chooses to be a YES man or a NO man in the early stages of the story.

I feel really protective of my thoughts at this stage. The magic is fluttering away and I'm enjoying the potential of the project. Of course, the next week is going to be hectic with D away for a few days then a good friend coming to stay. No hurrying this. I want to put the thought in beforehand as much as possible.

Is it better to know or not to know????

Crikey

2010-07-06T00:36:00.000-07:00

Um, I pushed a couple of buttons just to see what would happen and now my blog is too blue. I don't like it! I was just going to do a short post explaining where I'm at but now I don't for the life of me know. Blue, I like you as a colour, but not in a taking-over-the-world kind of a way.

I came back from Rarotonga all refreshed and hopeful. Back to winter and more rain than I can handle - a cold monsoon. I even took my novel seriously again there for a few days and put 8000 words of Megan in the first person into my computer. Then I hit a wall and I feel as my novel and I are breaking up. Sorry, I'm just not ready to talk about it... Haha.

Anyway, a big part of it was that I've been sick (I think this is what is meant by man flu - I couldn't even smile for a few days there) and have been totally overshadowed by the greatness of others, notably John Steinbeck, Whiti Hereaka, and Vincent Ward. What I am trying to write doesn't feel important enough to me anymore. It's stale. Done. I'm a tumbleweed on a long beach, unsure where the hell I'm headed,...and a bit dizzy.

I start back at work one day a week next Tuesday - just had an email about it this afternoon - so that'll give me a sense of purpose. You just watch: as soon as the marking comes rolling in, I'll be daydreaming about my ex-novel again... Some things are just written. Ha, if only.

Head in the clouds

2010-05-26T00:26:00.002-07:00

A week in Rarotonga for a friend's wedding did me the world of good. Beach time, swimming in a waterfall, cocktails by the pool, meeting good people, zooming around the island on the back of a motorbike - it was just what I needed.

I feel as if I'm skipping around at the moment. Everything feels easier, people seem more sweet, I am 'in the room' as D puts it. I've had some really nice surprises over the past few days, too - unexpected texts/calls/emails/invites because someone was thinking of me, heaps of invitations for movies/plays/dinners. Even a necklace. I wish I could bottle all this goodness and save some for a rainy day (hang on, it is raining) and give you some if you're feeling a bit low.

I was trying to explain to D the other night about how I feel more peaceful, especially with the boys. The phrase that kept springing to mind was one the kids I taught in London used a fair bit, 'Oh Miss, ALLOW IT.' I think I'm 'allowing'.

Best not to overthink it - just enjoy!

Parsley

2010-04-27T15:13:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know, what an intriguing title (not). I'm not sure that I really dig parsley. The Italian style, flat leaf one is okay but that fluffy one has the most disgusting texture unless you chop it to smithereens. Dill is my favourite. We grow basil.

We've been away for a week and I'm still wondering where my head's at. D had a conference in Christchurch so the boys and I went along for the ride. Motels, 5:30am wake ups, catching up with rellies and a childhood friend, summer weather, D's birthday, longlonglong walks, and spending some time with Nana. She's so beautiful and strong (and paralysed down one side of her body from the stroke). I adore that woman. She'll be 90 in October.

Writers Group was choice. Three newies have added an injection of enthusiasm I needed. T and D continue to amaze me with their intelligence and determination. All good.

I got some feedback from one of my ex-students on Chapter One which has given me plenty to think about. I've written in 3rd person and follow three main characters in alternating chapters. He's suggested 1st person. That good old debate! I've always thought I prefer 3rd but, interestingly, most of the books I've chosen to read lately have been 1st person and very revealing (two memoirs). What I think I'll do is have a go at rewriting some passages in 1st person and see how it feels and perhaps trial it on my fellow Writers. Beware!Who knows what I might discover?

Back to parsley. I finally had some time to myself yesterday as one boy was at kindy and the other now has two mornings of creche (one of which coincides with a kindy day). Anyway, I sat down and answered a few emails then settled down to write. You guessed it, a knock at the door. I considered pretending I wasn't home but when I saw it was Sophia, I had to answer. About a month ago she came to say she was worried about her husband and we ended up having to get an ambulance. This time though, she was here for a coffee and a chat.

Once I put aside all the things I needed to be doing, I really got a lot from our conversations. She's about 74 and moved here from Greece when she was young to be a nurse. At some point she talked about how she was making stuffed capsicums and didn't have parsley so she used some oregano. "Some people, they complain. But I make do. It was something new to try and I like it." A lesson on making the most of what's at hand.

She's stopped on her way across the road to see me to 'borrow' some parsley from another neighbour's garden so was sitting there clutching a bouquet of it. I guess because 'some people' like it.

It's okay

2010-04-14T13:48:00.000-07:00

I feel much better now that it's not my birthday. I feel purposeful and excited. Hahaha. What a difference a day makes!

Waaaahhhh!

2010-04-13T18:37:00.002-07:00

Yep, that's me and my Mum (love the bottom right one where I'm testing her patience). Yep, it's my birthday so I'm thinking back...way back....and wondering how I became who I've become.

This is the first time a birthday has bugged me. Usually I feel pretty pleased with all that I've done and where I'm at, give myself a pat on the back and enjoy being spoilt rotten. The love has certainly flowed today and I'm in no doubt that I'm an extremely lucky lady but, I've gotten far too lazy lately.

Where's my novel? How much time do I spend writing these days? Where do I want to head with my career? Do we want a third baby? (I blame Baby-Mae, Tessa, Molly and Sophie for being so jolly snuggly and darn right cute) Am I spending enough time on the right people/things? Hmmm. And, what's with this desire of mine to just be told what to do about it all and not have to figure it all out for myself?

So. In the next few days I intend to get on-with-getting-on with things and stuff and what-not. I'm old now. Aaaaaaaarrrgggghhhh!!! Waaaaahhhhhh!!!

Where's my hat?

2010-04-08T16:00:00.003-07:00

or Where's my head at?

Both very good questions... The boys gave me a laugh and a half yesterday when we were dancing around to cheerful kid music by putting on crazy hats and spinning around and around and around looking at the heavens, eyes covered by the hats, and chanting, 'Where's my hat? Where's my hat?' until they smashed into each other and fell over. Then they got up and did it again. Nobody got hurt, I thought I should add that.

It reminded me of the good old Basement Jaxx track, Where's my head at?
Mine is AWOL at the moment. I've been thinking a lot about Nana and family, what it means to be a true friend, what winter brings, aging. Those old chestnuts. I've been feeling Very Serious so laughing with the boys was just what I needed yesterday.

The sun is out and so are three loads of washing but it's cold. Frosty windscreen, numb fingers, boots. I need to dig out my winter hat and scarf soonish. Where is that hat?

Novel-wise, we may have a few more recruits at Writers which is good but slightly nerve-wracking. Our numbers have depleted with people heading off on adventures in other cities (does nobody move to the country anymore?). I hope to get my homework underway once I've posted this, although it's not long until I need to pick up the wee fellas.

I had a coffee in Newtown before and people-watched out the window. It is the most inspiring place for me - they're all part of my novel, including the man I saw today who was pushing two little girls through the street in a green wheelbarrow.

Crowded head. Put a hat on it.

Get cracking

2010-03-28T16:14:00.000-07:00

Writers' Group tonight, yeeha! I've been all interested in my novel again and am thinking all sorts of stuff through.

Our homework has been to get our synopsisisisis (haha) underway using a technique Tony found and, so far, it's working for me. I've had to put Nasrin and Mustafa aside and focus on it as Megan's story which is the difficult part BUT valuable because I can see how much progress I've made in understanding her. Still gaps though. The next step in the process is to answer some questions about character so I'll try to do that before tonight.

Another biggie is that I've asked someone to read Chapter 1 for me. Asking is a big step forward for me, although it's still safe and snug in my computer's memory for now. I'm wondering if I should get two more people to read 2 and 3 for me, purely looking at character and motivation, but I might be too scared! How ridiculous.

I was so stoked the other day when two friends asked after my novel. I used to cringe and say something flippant but now I really do appreciate a query. It does exist!

In other news, my Nana has had a stroke so we're all jittery everytime the phone rings. Last I heard she's talking, managed to eat something and Aunty J is with her. She's got a heap of tests ahead of her today and seems to be paralysed on one side. Nana is an incredibly strong lady and will be fighting this, I know. We're due to visit her in less than a fortnight and I can't wait to give her a tender hug. A and I made some hokey pokey biscuits in her honour just before but they just don't cut it.

Image above from www.pixdaus.com

Up!

2010-03-21T17:56:00.003-07:00

I still can't believe it. The photos are here as evidence that I went up...up...up in a hot air balloon! It's been Number One on my To-Do List for a very long time and Dougal made it happen. Thank you, darling husband!

If you haven't done this, aim to. We tried back in London and the weather kept interferring. Gusty wind tried to stop us again this weekend but we made it on the second morning and it was better than I could ever have imagined.

I want to know everything about balloons. I want to get up there again.
It's love.

Sparks

2010-03-10T15:04:00.000-08:00

The past fortnight (make that the entire year so far) has seemed really busy but when I sit down and try to work out exactly why, it's all a blur. F's b/day was great and he felt really loved and special - I think the lead up to b/days is always big in our house and takes a lot of energy.

Now, speaking of energy... we finally had a decent Writers Group meeting the other week with a good turn out and some genuine excitement about where we want to head (as individuals and as a group). We're going to change our meet ups to a Monday evening for a bit and see how that goes and we also have some plans for the next couple of sessions. I sat there enjoying the sparkly eyes around me and was feeling recharged myself. If I can sit down and write that one line for homework, I'll be rearing to go. Should I use my current novel or start from scratch?

Yes, that's a huge question. I've been doubting myself lately, whether this is the novel I should be writing, how important it is to me, and whether I've got it in me. I have barely written a thing all year so what does that say about my motivation, hey? AND it's Writers and Readers Week and I haven't arranged to go to a single thing.

I think I need to sit down and remind myself what my priorities are. Oooh, I can feel it all bubbling away inside me : I DO WANT TO WRITE!!! I do want to take this love of mine seriously. Phew.

Next step, how? Writers Group and the synopsis activity. Having an evening a week where I go to the library and write. Coming up with a short story idea to work on for one of the competitions this year. Hanging out in Newtown. Visiting a restaurant. Talking to people.

Okay. I feel better. The sky is bluer than blue again today so I will go and enjoy it, with a pen in hand, while A's sleeping.

Four years ago

2010-03-01T00:16:00.001-08:00

I was about to go to bed and read 'Grapes of Wrath' but the wind has really picked up and F is still awake. He called out, "You're so beautiful, Mum. You are beautiful like a butterfly..."

Four years ago I was in labour with him and there was a crazy storm which ranted and raved nearly as crazily as I did. The pain of it. I still remember. And I will never, never, never forget finally holding him, him worming his way up my chest, and him opening his eyes and looking straight at me. Such strong love, immediately.

I'm excited about his turning four. I'm also kind of scared at how quickly time passes and how much changes. Funny how a birthday can stir up different emotions at the same time.

Today one of our caterpillers has become a crysalis (sp?) and the other is fat and darkening. They'll be clinging on to the swan plant in the wind right now.

Tomorrow is Frank's birthday. My baby turns 4!

Nice happenings

2010-02-14T23:08:00.001-08:00

Me and gorgeous Arf - a much happier photo than a few weeks ago!

Life is feeling a teeny tiny bit easier at the moment. I have three days where it's just me and Arf until 2:30pm and now I'll have Friday mornings with Frankstar while Arf goes to creche. One on one time! It's incredible how much more energy I have when there's only one little man to be concentrating on. Arf's talking and behaviour is so much better now that his bro is back at kindy.

Lots of nice stuff has been going on and I reckon it's worth reminding myself of some of it:

Going out for a meal and a gig with D - on a Thursday night no less.
A party at the weekend where we danced around crazily on bamboo floors and later on the guitars came out. I sang my heart out!
Dinner at our neighbour's last night - yum and sweet.
Cuddles with the tiny twins - snuggly wee kittens - and seeing A smiling again.
Writers Group last Saturday, at last.
One of my new-kindy-Mum-friends saying she'd really like it if Frank would go and play at her place while I'm settling Arf at creche - then her all skippy and excited when I agreed, haha!
My father-in-law making me a spice rack and a cupboard - what a hero.
Paddling pools.
Tiger stalking the plumber as he was working under the house. "He's a menace." Okay, that was funny rather than nice. That catten makes me laugh these days. Him and Arf are collaborating more and more...
Hanging out with some of my special people a bit more lately.

Lots more stuff. What a good exercise. You try it too...

The bite of the bumblebee

2010-01-25T21:09:00.000-08:00

I was going to write about something completely different but, when I went to type, I realised that the pad of my finger is still numb from yesterday - so I went surfing and found out some things...

We - five sprightly children and four amused adults - went for a bush walk yesterday. There were trolls, bears, "itchy-witchy-bitchy-muddy-mud-mud-mud" (a 3 year old speaks such poetry), statues, dinosaur claws, snack stops, wobbly bridges, and a few tears.

Sitting down for our picnic at the end of the walk, F spotted a bumblebee and bossed E and A not to touch it. "They sting."
E: "No, they don't sting."
Me: "I heard they bite."
F: "They sting."
E: "No, no sting."
Me: "They definitely do something... I think."

Two minutes later, I find out that they definitely sting - and cling. I had to shake my hand to fling it off. Off! OFF! Youch, man. On the pad of my finger. Poetic justice in A's world as I was telling him off for running towards the river. Jamie stood on it. That makes me sad. They don't die after stinging like a honey bee unless a huge hoof seeks revenge for his friend. And they're not aggressive so it was me invading its space - and A's.

Well, luckily the kids all knew to be careful then because there were hundreds of them wafting around in the long grass. A did a runner. F gave me a hug. I had to bite on the inside of my cheek for a good ten minutes - big sook!

Only females sting. Their hair is called 'pile'. They don't have ears. They can reach speeds of up to 54 km/h. There are many species - some are endangered and bumblebee numbers are declining. Like sparrows.

Sorry, little bumblebee. I really have to wake up and stop being so clumsy, especially when lives hang in the balance. You'll be pleased to know I whacked myself in the mouth with a hula hoop just before. And the cat used my thigh as a pin cushion.

I wonder what the odds are of being stung. Hmmm. Hummmm. Ha.

AWOL

2010-01-22T19:28:00.000-08:00

I'm back! Yes, we spent a couple of heavenly days at the beach and then I've been off in a dream-land trying to get my CV updated. Getting more than half an hour at a time to get anything done proved to be ridiculously difficult. Pah. It's sent... so now the waiting game begins.

My next project is to put my novel goggles back on and start re-structuring the story. We need to get Writers Group back together and I am determined to have something to workshop. From my novel. You hear that people?

I also want to read and read and read.

And make sure my friends remember I exist.

And join in more with my boys elaborate games - space ships, pirate ships, super powers. Delicious.

Catten

2010-01-14T15:40:00.000-08:00

Here's Tigerrrr (named by my 3 3/4 year old who has no idea who Tiger Woods is!) He's probably about 11/12 weeks now and has been a member of our family for going on 3 weeks. I love him! He's a little bundle of sweetness/mischief.

It was all a bit spur of the moment in the few days before Xmas and I wasn't sure if adding a kitten to the circus that is us was such a clever idea. I was wrong. The boys are enjoying playing with him and I'm enjoying snuggling with him.

I thought I'd try taking him outside yesterday but just as I stepped out with him in my arms, a huge gust of wind sent the leaves rippling and he freaked. I managed to keep hold of him but my arms are a mess of scratches. So we came back inside.

Sue came over today with her two gorgeous girls and Tiger scratched Emma a good one on the finger - ruby red blood welled on her finger. Oops. They have a puppy and Sue was saying a 6 month old puppy is equivalent to a 10 year old human. What about cats? Tiger seems streaks ahead of my boys in some ways and has cat acne which I guess makes him a teenager already. Don't grow up too quickly, catten.

In other news, we're off to the beach for a few days so I'll miss a post or two. I'm looking forward to a change of scene and sea air. Who cares if it rains?

Hopefully I'll get my CV and cover letter sorted for a job I'm interested in...

Strolling

2010-01-12T21:58:00.001-08:00

I went for another wander this evening - only half an hour but my cheeks were flushed and I felt alive. 6pm is a funny time around Mt. Vic. I walked past lots of houses where fathers and kids were watering gardens/playing outside but mostly it was deserted. A few Xmas trees still in windows. Not a cat to speak of.

Mostly on my walk I thought about the book I'm reading. I'm only about 50 pages in - but I definitely am IN - it's absorbing, no doubt about it. Mum's lent it to me and is desperate for me to get it read so she can discuss it. Novel About My Wife by Emily Perkins.

I'm also half way through The Thing Around Your Neck - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's collection of short stories. I loved her novel Half of a Yellow Sun but haven't read Purple Hibiscus YET. The stories I've read so far have been fabulous. I sit there for ages afterwards soaking it all in. I love the pace (she takes her time) and how she weaves in these incredible back stories. Plus, she has hugely important stories to tell.

I spent ages yesterday trying to figure out how to (if I can) change the layout of my blog but with no luck. I found the funkiest backdrop on http://www.bgpatterns.com/ but to no avail. Any tips would be welcome.

My plan for this evening is to update my CV. It needs a total revamping. Yes, I'm considering joining the job hunters, I think...

Sort it out

2010-01-10T21:51:00.000-08:00

Ha! It doesn't take much. Yesterday I mooched around feeling all lost and fed-up with myself then woke up still in that frame of mind. I haven't totally put my finger on it but part of it is that I need a challenge. I need to make some changes. I knew this was coming - kindy holidays, the start of a new year, crappy weather...

Two things that made a huge difference today were:

1. Making a phonecall instead of emailing and discovering I don't have to rush back into a classroom to keep my registration current. It's OKAY! My qualifications are safe. I will always be a teacher (subject to confirmation). If that sounds ? to you, don't worry, it's all good. I feel free-er, suddenly.

2. Walking for 45 minutes up Mt. Vic. then back along Oriental Bay. The warmth of 6pm was surprising. I felt shakey when I got home so that means I pushed myself - something my body desperately needs. I've been feeling like a huge, ugly pudding lately and I'm sick of it.

I've taken a few self-portraits in the past few weeks and I can't believe how sad I look! Enough. I challenge myself to get a decent photo taken - or take it - this year. I only have about three photos I like of myself ever and that's just silly.

If you're one of my writing buddies and feel like a warm up activity, here's one for you (borrowed from Natalie Goldberg in Writing Down the Bones):

You list 10 nouns and 10 verbs and then match them up in sentences. Use mine if you like.

1. castle
2. ladder
3. teapot
4. pepper
5. curtain
6. cloud
7. lemon
8. t-shirt
9. postcard
10. wok

1. lurch
2. blink
3. awaken
4. scream
5. catapult
6. squeeze
7. scadaddle
8. note
9. gesture
10. twinkle

Here are two of mine as examples:
The clouds scadaddle across the sky.
The lemon makes him blink.

Words - I love them.

Bring on the Boom Bands

2010-01-08T15:21:00.000-08:00

Something to think about from 'Oh, the places you'll go!' by Dr Seuss:

....a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...
...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

NO!
That's not for you!

Somehow you'll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing...

A funny old day.

2010-01-06T22:47:00.000-08:00

That wind has been irksome. More than. Mostly, I don't mind wind and often find it exhilerating but the past two days have left me exhausted and not knowing which way to turn. You should see my hair!

No sooner did I type that than we got another one of those magnificent gusts that shake the entire house and have me thinking there's an earthquake. No wonder the boys were slightly crazy this evening.

In an old journal I found a list of Things I Like. I reckon on days like these it helps to remind yourself of the things that make you smile. Hmmmm....

(in no particular order): blank paper...dappled light...daphne...chinese lanterns...the excitement of going somewhere...my boys' laughter...dreamy evenings...stars...black ink pens...being cooked dinner by D...my boys giving each other a hug after their afternoon naps...dark blue...going out for a meal...crunching carrots...stretching...Rocky Road iceblocks...getting rained on...painted walls...waves lapping at my feet...the sea on a moody day...green-ness... Shakespeare...putting my head on my pillow...the feeling of toner - nice and fresh - on my face at the end of a busy day...tuis...the sky...deep breaths...cups of tea...the first night of a camping trip...new clothes...feeling as if I've really earned my money...people who can spare a moment...eye contact...sparkly things which catch me by surprise - something noticed by the sun...eating veges we've grown...The English Patient...biking down hill...candles...cats eyes...letters...scratch and win crosswords...wrapping paper...a surprise email...the weekend paper...realising my heart is still beating.

How about you?

New year - new start

2010-01-04T16:48:00.000-08:00

Well, well, well. I haven't spent enough time really thinking this through but I think I'm going to turf my journal and blog instead. What I love about journals is the flow of thoughts from the pen, being able to take them anywhere, and what my handwriting tells me.
However, I have a stack of journals and am slowly plundering them and turfing away the boring stuff that I'd never inflict on anyone, even myself. They take up room in our squishy house, some of it is cringe-worthy, I might take it all more seriously if I blog, AND I can put up photos.
The theme of the blog will essentially be my journey with writing but there will be general 'my life' type of stuff as well. Maybe I'll find out more about myself along the way.
I'm going to aim to post every second day.

Here's a whole heap of starters from somewhere that I've tried to finish without thinking too long and hard about it. Feel free to copy and fill in your own!

I avoid gory bits in movies by looking away.
I've thought about scriptwriting.
I've been a bit lazy.
I have plenty.
I've been on The London Eye.
I love my family.
My best friend surprised me with a massage appointment for this afternoon.
I play it safe.
I drink too much alcohol and caffeine.
I've kissed away lots of 'boo boos.'
I like to try to figure people out but it's impossible!
I hate hatred.
I love writing. The flow of it.
I actually love making lists.
I love to be on my own.
I've been to Bangladesh and I've been revisiting it in my mind a lot lately..
I miss face-to-face conversations with faraway people.
Winter is what happens.
I have more than many and I am grateful.
I'm listening to the tick tock of the clock.
Music , moods, memories.
The last thing I drank was a homemade coffee.
I used to make way too much out of small things.
I collect teapots by the look of things.
I've eaten camel kebabs.
I'm an extremely fortunate person.
I remember my childhood fondly.
I've been told that I'm doing a good job.
I need more time.
My hair is frustrating but I think I like my fringe.
I need to take charge of my health.
Someone I know has more than they realise.
People tell me that the world is round.
I wish I had it all clear in my head.
I can see familiarity all around.
I'm kinda scared of crocodiles - ridiculous to write that sitting at a computer in NZ! Maybe that's the tick-tocking I can hear and I'm Peter Pan.
It's a blue-sky day.
My ears are unobtrusive and usually earring-free.
My belly button is forgotten.
I plan on forging ahead with my life.
I've met my sons. I love them.
I can sing okay.
I can dance so much better in my imagination.
I suck at drinking 8 glasses of water a day.
I want to get fit, healthy and have more energy for everything.
I can get off my bum.
I live at the foot of a bush-clad mountain.
I went to court to testify against a man in London.
I don't remember my boys being 'baby babies' really.
I think too much sometimes and not enough other times.
I'm wearing short shorts and a yellow t-shirt with Sesame Street characters on it. Why?
My first love could have been ballet? Reading? Words? My Mum!!!!

Bored ya, yet???

Note to self

2009-12-07T16:27:00.000-08:00

Funny and slightly depressing: I opened up my dairy on December 1 to find a note saying 'Second draft sorted?'
"Sorted?" she snorted.
So, I am trying to look back at the positives.

I rewrote the first five chapters significantly in the first five months of the year.
I actually like - and mostly understand - all of my characters now.
I've got my hands on Philip Gerard's Writing a Book that makes a Difference. The title might make you choke but, I have to be honest, that's the sort of book I have to write. He is my hero and I'm only half way through. He's getting me thinking back to what it is I really want to show, asking me why I'm bothering, reminding me to have respect for my themes and characters and to stop making assumptions.
Writers' Group is ticking along. We've got a BBQ this Saturday and I'm really looking forward to it - a chance to hang out and yap about writing without having to do any!
My life is busy and rich which has made it difficult to fit dedicated writing time in, but...
I still know I HAVE to write. I WANT to.

Do I feel better now? Haha.

Exercise: Find something you wrote a long time ago. Read it. Celebrate it. Rewrite it!

Not a good sign!

2009-10-05T12:56:00.000-07:00

Unbelievable. My last post was July 25. I thought I should write something in order to keep this going ...and couldn't remember my pass word. Not good, huh?

So where am I at? Back where I was before, pretty much, but feeling slightly resigned. One day I want to complete this novel. I MUST. But when? It's been a mad few months with a lot to juggle and teaching takes up most of my 'free time'. I've been enjoying it though and am feeling hopeful that I can use the skills I've been teaching others to good use. That means writing an article or two and getting them published. Hmmm. Two lessons left then a gigantic pile of marking so I should be back to my own writing by the end of November. Here's hoping!

The biggest lesson has been about writing clearly and concisely. Every word counts. But that's more of a job for subsequent drafts. I guess it has served as a reminder that short forms are my first love.

Well, I hope writing is proving more fruitful for the rest of you. I adore it, I really do. I just need 4 more hours in the day (while little boys sleep).

Bear with me

2009-07-25T19:47:00.000-07:00

I hope that's the right bear - not bare - but beer would be okay..

I just wanted to grrrrrrr (so bear is therefore appropriate) that I am not getting any writing done. I think I want to. Yes, I do want to. Good old life is getting in the way a bit. I think about my characters every day. What's weird though is that they are just there, frozen, not getting on with things, just waiting. Patiently. Should they be? I had hoped they'd be getting on with their normal routines: working in the restaurant; babysitting Ridley; driving the taxi; eating; sleeping; maybe catching a movie.

On a more positive note... So far so good with the new paper I'm teaching (Writing for Print). Creative non-fiction - it's fascinating. Please let me know if you find a copy of Philip Gerard's Creative Non-fiction. I think it's out of print but the man is my new best friend.

Anybody seen any good movies recently? Tracey-across-the-road saw the First Day of the Rest of My Life (or was it our or your life?) and said it's the best movie she's ever seen. I managed to see Milk on DVD, finally. Very powerful.

Yeah, well. Keep tuned - writing is on my mind - just not on the page xxx

Spot the cliches

2009-07-01T00:42:00.000-07:00

Thank you for the comments - they're just what I needed to make me feel like I better get on with things!

After that last post, it all turned to custard. My littlest boy got sick and needed more attention than ever (he's fine now but his bro is under the weather now). I, of course, had to plough through my bout of 'flu, managing to kick it in a few days. It meant that my pile of marking didn't disappear as quickly as I had wanted it to so I've been plugging away at that - until today!

I got a day's reprieve and hunkered down in the library. I distracted myself for the first hour with a stack of books on writing (you know the ones), and with thoughts of coffee. Then, the magic took over and suddenly Chapter Five was sewn. I still need to type it up and see how it reads - but I made it. Thank flaming goodness. See what can happen when you put your mind to it, Libby? Having such a lovely support network helps too.

So, Writers Group on Saturday. See some of you there!

Kate, how are you?????

PS A competition: How many cliches can you spot in the above text?

No smug cat these days!

2009-06-17T18:04:00.000-07:00

I had to laugh when I looked at my last post and the title of it. Silly me. How frustrating though. I was chugging along, re-writing a chapter a month and now nearly three months have sped on by and I don't have any writing to show for it. Grrrr.

Nup, I'm not going to give excuses. I have an extremely busy life but writing is something I want/need to find time for. This is me giving myself a kick up the bum. WRITE CHAPTER FIVE!!!!

Yippedy-skippey

2009-03-28T16:04:00.000-07:00

I'm a smug cat.
Four months. Four chapters. On target. It feels GOOOOD!
Somehow I managed to get most of my marking done on Thursday and Friday, the boys spent yesterday night with their 'Grandies' and I was wide awake at half seven this morning with ideas (despite a fair bit of wine last night and a thirst like never before).
So I wrote a scene just now and that's that!
I'm really enjoying my teaching, too, and it's definitely helping me with my own writing. I am thinking about the whole process constantly. Plus I always seem to work better under pressure.
The best news is that we had W.G yesterday, at last, and it was fantastic. Just what I needed. Big ups to Vidya, Jo and Ken.
April, baby, what do you hold? I see: more marking and teaching preparation, a family holiday for almost two weeks, my darling Mum moving to Wellington, friends visiting from London, birthdays galore, sorting out this flaming printer once and for all, staying healthy, finishing reading The Weight of a Mustard Seed, and writing Chapter Five. Back to Mustafa.

Writing activity: Watching you eat.

Checking in

2009-03-14T17:48:00.000-07:00

I think I missed an update there? Yes, I'm still here and am still making some time to work on my 2nd draft, despite an even madder than predicted two weeks. Today the sun is out, the sky is pure blue, we are all feeling better and I can take a moment to reflect.

When I started rewriting my novel and began this blog, I thought the focus would be on the actual writing and the questions that came up regarding character/storyline/techniques. Instead it seems to be more about how I am struggling with getting time to write. I'm facing hurdle after hurdle but I'm heaving myself over them, just not in a particularly speedy or competitive way. I want it to be easier than this. I want to enjoy it more.

So why is it seeming hard? I think because there is a smidgin of guilt - there's always some one needing something from me, or I'm bone-tired for some reason or another. But let's not play the matyr here! I could make writing a higher priority in my life and be okay about letting a few other things take a back seat. The housework did a long time ago. Delegating, lowering my standards? Those old chestnuts. A personal trainer?

And obviously, planning better so that I use my writing time more effectively. I found myself ignoring the scenes I wanted to include and fishing through old stuff I had written in my first draft which was already done and dusted but now isn't relevant. No cheating, Libby! I think it would be dangerous to include any old scenes because the characters have matured so much since then and I think my writing is better - well, at least I hope it is.

Should I hide my first draft? I could stash it away somewhere or give it to one of you for safe keeping? If it's not close by then I won't be distracted by it.

I saw a tiny bit of the cricket yesterday and one of the Indian bowlers looks similar to how I imagine Akmol looks. I still haven't ever written full descriptions of my characters. Should I?

Did I mention that I raced out and bought an awesome book the other day? It's called The Weight of a Mustard Seed by Wendell Steavenson. '..a gripping, revelatory work of literary non-fiction - a tale of the decline of one man, his family and their nation'. She's a journalist/novelist who wanted to know why a general from Saddam Hussein's army would follow such a leader. It's beautifully written and absorbing - and there are little scenes I touched on in my first draft that are real and painted here. Spooky. It's confirming my thoughts about how Mustafa has been affected and what he carries with him.

Right, I better scarper. D has suggested a swim. I'm thinking an ice cream (shhhhh!)

Writing exercise: He thought, I should hide, but everywhere they will find me. (A line from The Weight of a Mustard Seed)

The old flashback trick

2009-02-28T16:49:00.000-08:00

I honestly didn't think it was going to happen but for the third month in a row I have met my target - wahoo!!! Three months, three chapters. Sure, they are rough as guts but they are an offering none-the-less.

Warning: skip this next paragraph as I'm just having a whinge...

I have lost my voice, have a nose that is trying to take off, and feel like crapolla which is just wonderful tied onto the end of the past few weeks where I had such a sore back that I couldn't sit at the computer - but I've managed to get somewhere with my writing so I am finally feeling better about something. The road ahead is a biggie, as I begin teaching up at Uni on Wednesdays (better find my voice before then) and it is F's 3rd birthday tomorrow so a party to look foward to next weekend, visitors - including my darling Mum, and just pure busy-bee-ness. April is looking even crazier!

So, Chapter Three. I like Megan so much more but I still need to make some decisions about her. There are a few instances where I've written her as bitchier than I now envisage her so I think there will need to be some rewriting before I take on her viewpoint again in Chapter Six. She's got a lot going on and is very well intentioned. I have her break up with Steve in this chapter now and have her make the decision to stay in Wellington (if that is where it is indeed set!) and build a new life. It helps explain why she goes on to do what she does better.

I slotted in a flashback and I think it's clumsy. Any feedback about flashbacks would be greatly received - love them? Hate them? Know how to sew them in tenderly? Examples of any good ones?

Hey, and I've done some foreshadowing that I'm happy with.

Writers group didn't happen again this week - stink as. We HAVE to get it up and running again, people!!!

I have read the first three chapters of Fiona Kidman's memoir, At the End of Darwin Road. Absorbing. Once again I have to credit her with managing to get me motivated again. http://www.fionakidman.co.nz/

A writing starter, a line taken from the memoir (I hope she doesn't mind): This is not confessional stuff. There was nothing to confess.

Click!

2009-02-19T12:49:00.000-08:00

I have to say that this week the writing was much easier and I had two scenes sussed by Tuesday. Ha. My back is on the mend but I'm going to have to start looking after myself a bit better. Posture, Libby.

So, Chapter 3 is slowly coming together and I want to have it written (even if it's unpolished) by the end of next week. Easy. I'm laughing having written that.

That's it for now. I have some work to do to prepare for tutoring as I have a meeting next week with the co-ordinator and want to be sure I know what I'm doing. I'm looking foward to teaching again (especially with such a strong focus on writing and the nitty gritty of it all - Writ 101) but am nervous about the work load and keeping my priorities clear. Happy, busy times...

And a starter from a poem I found which I loved years ago called Wasp-Sting Summer by Rebecca Thorn. It's actually the final line:
'...But no sting in the sunset.'

P.S. I've been getting all interested in poetry again - reading it, that is.

Hiccoughs

2009-02-14T18:42:00.000-08:00

Yes, here I was full of good intentions and only into the third month and what happens? Something unexpected. I hurt my back two weeks ago and am still struggling with normality - lifting boys, putting out the washing, everything needs to be thought about first. Sitting at a computer hurts - how funny is that!
Anyway, I have had an hour and a half while the boys slept (awake now, I can hear one of them so I better hurry up here) and I have looked through previous stuff I've written about Megan (last year when I was reinventing her) and I like a lot of it. I thought much of it was background for me but it's okay, ya know. I might go on to discard it but I've pasted some of it in and Chapter 3 is slowly starting to work albiet with a few key scenes to actually write in over the next two weeks.
So it seemed bad - two weeks of not reaching my word count - but I am now just 1500 short of my chapter target. Ooh, I know, numbers numbers blah blah blah. I honestly feel as if I'm getting somewhere though, despite everything.
I start part time work in March so I really need to get organised and meet my targets. And we need to get W. Group up and running again!!!

Writing task: A cure for hiccoughs.

A mixed bag

2009-01-27T13:58:00.000-08:00

Hi there to me, myself and my few followers. I didn't update where I was at last week which turned out to be a busy one as I was doing some contract work (teaching - it felt good to be back in a classroom...) and I did get some writing in but didn't meet my quota. I also spent a bit of time soaking in the ambience of Newtown which has always been the inspiration for my novel.

Two of the settings are the Indian restaurant and a funky cafe. There are a couple of each in the real place although they aren't that similar to my imaginary ones. I'm still not 100% sure of what the block they're all placed along looks like as I keep getting distracted by the old theatre building up there whenever I go past and seeing them in that... A note to myself: Creating your own world is freedom!!!

Anyway, I'm slightly pleased with myself. In two months I have managed to get two chapters roughly drafted. A chapter a month (about 5000 words each). So despite falling off the word- count-wagon a couple of times and not writing as consistently as I want to, I am getting there.

Now, this Mustafa chapter doesn't sit quite right with me yet but I have discovered a lot more about this intriguing man. He's pretty low spirit-wise but keeps trying to pull himself out of it by reminding himself of why he is here and how bad things were not so long ago. I just added something naff though - he's so private and needs to protect himself that I knew that in Chapter 2 I couldn't have him having big heart to hearts with anyone SO he writes. Hmmm. Corny. He scrawls away in a little notebook (which slots in between the pages of what ever he is reading) in tiny tiny writing and usually burns it once he's written it. He writes to Rehan, the woman he still dreams of. Bad? Let me know what you reckon - and offer any other ideas, s'il te plait.

Writing prompt: Dear...me.

That was a relief!

2009-01-13T23:15:00.000-08:00

This time I sat down with my lap top in the library and typed and typed until the battery flashed a warning. I looked up and I had been writing flat out for over an hour and a half and had surpassed my word count target. That's what we want to hear!

I'm halfway through Chapter Two and channelling the voice of a paranoid Mustafa. Who cares that a lot of his past still mystifies me - he is great to write.

A starter for ya: 'Absent friends.'

Resolutions

2009-01-06T22:23:00.000-08:00

Happy 2009! I hope it's started off in a stylish way for you. I haven't made any resolutions this year, but I have a million good intentions. For the past couple of years I've chosen a theme e.g. creativity (how weird, I can't remember any others). I think I will have a little mantra : Finishing line. Finishing line...Finishing line.... That's mostly with regard to this spandangle novel but other stuff too - I'm a bit of an Ideas Woman. I come up with great plans but am less excited about the hard work. Was. Now I'm all excited, haha, about hard work.

I made an attempt to get some writing done over Christmas. I managed 675 one week but A BIG FAT ZERO the following week (New Years, a gig at Waihi Beach a few nights before that...). You don't want to hear excuses. I had fun.

I managed to get some writing done tonight. I could say I reached my word count but I kind of cheated by copying and pasting something I wrote previously. I'm only lying to myself though, eh? What I realised is this word count thing is good in terms of spurring me on but I reckon I can make the odd allowance - I finished Chapter One! I already knew how Chapter Two started so I just pasted it on in there. Some how I need to get in some re-reading, editing and more planning -so sometimes the word count isn't going to be as important.

I can see that I could easily start coming up with ifs and buts if I let this slide. I will endeavour to do one of the following before the end of the week:
1) Write another 800 words - moving on with Mustafa in Chapter Two
2) Have a decent go at re-working my first chapter.

I read some interesting reflections by Dianne Doubtfire a couple of days ago. It's one of those situations where I've probably amplified her meaning a bit but she said, 'Lack of conviction is death to your novel.' Yep, I agree but she went on to say it's better not to write about some place you've never been. I agree with part of what she says, that I need to know muchmuchmuch more about my characters lives if I'm using their voice, but one is from Syhlet and one is from Iraq - one place I've been to but only briefly and I saw a glossy version, the other place I hope I'll get to visit some day but it's unlikely for a long while. Ooh, how about that for an excuse? I can't finish my novel until I've been to Iraq...

Anyway, it's about imagining, creating, convincing myself, convincing you. I'll get there. Eventually.

Three -nup, four other things:
1. Dame Fiona Kidman, thank you very much for your encouraging words. What a fantastic mentor you are - not just to me but to all aspiring writers. Your email gave me the boost I needed.
2. Kate, it was fantastic to hang out with you and although we didn't get to talk nearly enough about writing, my boys loved you! I really want to keep in touch.
3. Vidya, I am SO stoked that you're back! I'm looking foward to lots of writing time together as well as catching up on some good old goss. Good on you for giving that starter from last time a go. Did you know that poem already?
4. Dianne Doubtfire points out that there are 20 different ways of saying yes when you're asked to do something and it says so much about a character. Okay, Indeedy, Delighted, Why not?, Righty-ho, Certainly, Right, Sure, With pleasure...

A writing exercise: Two would be better.

Phew

2008-12-19T13:07:00.000-08:00

Is the lead up to Xmas always this manic? Probably, but trying to fit in some time to write has been challenging. Saying that, I have managed to reach my word count again which always feels like a good thing. At the start of the week, I was feeling as if this was all a silly idea and that my writing dream was a joke. However, getting into the last part of what I was writing and having a good old dream sequence for Nasrin (I know, I know!) got me going somewhere different and far more interesting i.e. her past in Bangladesh. That's what we're after, isn't it? Something far more exotic than sticking to life in the restaurant and dealing with plumbers, for gollygoshgoodnesssake!

One of the big things I have often found with my novel is that I write something fictional and then, sha-bang, a similar situation crops up in the news or in a friend's life. Spooky. I wrote a scene a while ago and tested it out on my Writers Group (drinks were fab, thanks!) with Mustafa being threatened in the taxi he was driving and it is a scene I really want to stick with, although I am feeling terrible for the family of the Christchurch taxi driver killed the other week. What a life he had lead - and Mustafa is a lot like him - fleeing a war torn country, arriving in NZ illegally and eventually being accepted as a refugee, then building what he hoped would be a safer life for his family, only to find himself a target.

I've got Nasrin and Akmol talking more and having him be more receptive to her ideas for the restaurant. I need to think again about where she's come from - I mean, what life was like for her in Bangladesh. I saw such extremes when I was there. I'll have to dig out some photos from my trip, although I don't think we had our digital camera back then, and see what I can see...

Anyway, happy holidays! I will be trying my very best to get my 1500 words written next week, as well as spending time with my lovely family.

Oooh, do you want a writing exercise? Let me think... I love starters so I'll just rummage around for one:
Dreams are easy.

That's from Sam Hunt's poem, A Valley Called Moonshine. The rest of the line, the last of the poem, is: Wild horses.

...Dreams are easy. Wild horses.

It's harder than it should be

2008-12-10T18:16:00.000-08:00

Hey, thank you to those of you who have checked out this blog, and especially for the comments. It keeps me going and I thought I should give an update.
Yes, well... We had an awesome weekend and I came back feeling refreshed and ready to get scribbling but both boys have been sick all week and needing mucho attention and tag-teaming on nap times so I have only managed to fit in about 800 words this week and it's already Thursday with some hectic days and evenings ahead. Still, where there's a will there's a way. I'm managing to get out for Writers Group drinks tonight - very important (and I am really looking foward to it).
Reading back over last week's opening to the novel, it isn't quite what I want. I've made Akmol, Nasrin's new husband, seem more unlikeable than I had intended. I like him, he just takes a while to get to know, as Nasrin is finding. Then I've gone and made her brother-in-law, Zakir, too cute and playful. Hmmmmm.
You'll be pleased to know that I cut out a visit from two plumbers. Imagine that, no insult to plumbers and what they do, reading about plumbing in the first chapter! Luckily I caught myself. I have a tendancy to go into way too much detail, concentrating on realism, and there goes pace and excitement out the window. On the upside, look how analytical I've become - that has to be a good thing, doesn't it?
I've been trying very hard to add more snippets of description, particularly of the restaurant, but I prefer dialogue so much more. There have been a good few ocassions recently where I've wondered if I should be giving scriptwriting another go. NOT until I've given this a chance.
Bring on tonight's drinks, I need to talk writing!
Have you checked out Whiti's and Kate's blogs yet? And Vidya's?

D day

2008-11-30T15:57:00.000-08:00

I have been feeling strangely nervous (but in a good way) all day knowing that I am now underway. Amazingly enough, the boys have been asleep and I've begun. 750 words and needing a break already! It's like anything though - exercise, rain, beginning slowly, easing into it.

It was a very busy weekend - like a dream when I think back over it - camping with good friends, swimming, chatting, and not much sleep thanks to the birds and restless children. However, I did get a few moments to mull over the Donald Maass questions and answered most of them in some detail. I would have liked to have been more comfortable with the second sub plot and a few other bits and pieces before I started writing but I thought that getting cracking on the actual scrawling was important for me today. They were helpful, so cheers Donald, and I do have his work book sitting beside me and have thumbed through it a fair bit over the past few weeks.

So I came up with my game plan for this week and by brain is warming up. I decided to stick with my original plan which was having three alternating view points, beginning with Nasrin. She's not the main character but has always beenmy favourite. You won't get to meet Megan (a possibile name change being considered) until Chapter Three.

Today I was introducing Nasrin. Introducing her situation. In the process I realised that the hard part is picturing the new restaurant - I need to work on description... I have a curtain between the kitchen and the actual restaurant and I have no idea what it looks like. Any suggestions? It's an Indian restaurant (even though the characters are from Bangladesh but they have subleased an existing restaurant) and is pretty shabby and simple. Yellow paint and you can see the brush marks... that sort of thing. They all spend time listening from behind the curtain and peering around it so it's not just a flimsy excuse of a thing. Amazing how such a small detail can cause such a stumbling block! Fun though.

It's a busy week ahead and I still have more words to write to reach my word count target (as menial as it sounds to most people) but it would be fantastic if I could really work on this opening and make it clear, make you like Nasrin, make you want to bear with me. I'm thinking that I might post the first few paragraphs in a few days time and see if anyone out there is kind enough to throw some suggestions back at me. I'll have to be brave though!!!

Building

2008-11-25T14:36:00.000-08:00

Three exciting points to note:

1) Two messages from lovely people. Thank you! I thoroughly appreciate the support - and your patience...
2) I may be jinxing myself but both boys are asleep at the same time so I get a few minutes to concentrate on this. Good boys.
3) I have come up with a high point which I'm happy with. It brings Mustafa into the story much more. Sure, it's a bit soap-opery but it has lots of potential and FITS. It involves a bit of research but I will tackle that when I need to.

Other things are becoming clearer too. I am going to try and work through both sets of questions today/this evening and see how ready I really am...

Figuring

2008-11-24T22:32:00.000-08:00

Just putting a start date out there has made all the difference. I am constantly thinking about my draft and doing lots of problem solving as I go about my busy life. Meditation at yoga turned into plotting and delving so who knows if I was breathing or not.

I was scrawling away in one of my countless exercise books - which reminds me, my laptop will be my new best friend, all that writing then having to type it up in my first draft was good in that I rewrote as I went but talk about time consuming - cementing my characters' back stories when I realised I was actually having fun. I was on fire. That's why I write.

It's really about letting my mind roam and allowing myself to go in directions I wasn't even open to in my first draft. It's also about being decisive. Making a choice instead of thinking I can come back to it and fix it later.

I've also kept in mind the not having to start-at-the-start idea, hence the back stories, and that felt like pushing the refresh button, I tell you.

I'm getting there. Funnily enough, there's a novel course get-together this weekend which I would love to go to but I'm away, and I bumped into Amy yesterday who has abandoned writing for now and is opening her own business. Also, Adrienne's suggestion about having all of the characters live in the same building has come back to me as a really good possibility.

Yep, this is all proof that my draft is ready to get underway. We're away for the weekend and I have yoga on Monday evening so Tuesday will be the biggie! I'm excited. How cool.

Got me thinking...

2008-11-22T22:18:00.001-08:00

Second entry on the birthday of the blog, now that boys are in bed.
So, a few things have been going around in my head this afternoon now that I'm taking this re-write more seriously:

1) The plot of the first draft was very weak. I had three main characters and one of them sucked. I've worked on her big time and done loads of writing around her as I thought she was the link between them all and therefore the main character. Not sure though. The other two are far more interesting, although one is a bit fuzzy. So who is the protagonist? I have a feeling it may change in the course of this draft.

2) Back to the plot. I have been trying so hard to answer questions posed by Donald Maass (cool name) in Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook' but it's really hard. Great questions and I WANT to be able to answer them, I just haven't put in the thought. Which got me back to the basics. By the end of this week I want to be able to answer the following questions (by Sean Murphy - I taught a Sean Murphy - and Tania Casselle in Now Write):

Tell us where your story begins
Tell us what everything depends on
Describe the moment it all changes
Tell us what complicates things
Tell us where it all ends
What does everybody want?
What does everybody fear?

The idea is to spend two minutes on each question and then have another go at it. Even that seems too hard right now!

SOOOO, that got me turning the page and finding this recommendation for starting a story from Douglas Bauer. It is simple: Start with a moment of high drama, as it's happening.

How scary is this? At this stage, having abandoned the crapella storyline of draft one, there is currently nothing that could be considered a climax in my story, or not a good one, definitely not a moment of high drama. And I love high drama. And I love movies and novels that begin in the middle. Ian McKewan (check spelling!) blows me away with his beginnings. A parent loses his child in the supermarket. A man falls from a hot air balloon when trying to save his grandson. Even if I then rejig my plot, sewing around that point, I can't say I have it yet.

3) That got me thinking too. I saw Show of Hands recently and loved it. It felt like where I'm at, like something I could have come up with - but no way could I have written/directed it as well as Antony McCarten. A really simple scenario over about 30 hours - a competition to win a car, guy connects with girl, a few other interesting characters. Really simple.

Right. So my tip to myself is to shrink it down. Make it simple. Decide on a completely new scenario, probably. That moment of high drama. What brings these people together and keeps them together? What are they working to change? Yeah, those basic questions...

Lots of work to do before next Monday, eh???? Remeber that this is fun. Inventing. Creating. Yay.

Here we go...

2008-11-22T18:58:00.000-08:00

Action stations. A little nerve-wracking but it is certainly time I got my a-into-g and got my second draft underway properly.
I already feel like re-writing that entire sentence...
Anyway, inspired by the gorgeous and incredibly wise Whiti Hereaka, I am going to use a blog to track my progress. Maybe some of my fellow writers and supporters will join me but it's really for me, a way of pushing myself a bit harder. I figure that if I make my word count public, there may be some guilt if I start slacking. If anyone does read this, please comment - I'll be seeking advice and it'd be nice to know someone else is out there in computer-land and wishes me well.
Yeah, so... I only have a couple of minutes to launch this but I better summarise where I'm at and where I'm hoping to head:

Way back in 2005 (holy schmoly) I was lucky enough to be part of the Novel group at Whitireia and with some hard slog and some whip cracking, I managed to get out the first draft of a pretty lame novel which I call New-town. Since then I've had two kids - children, I'm not a goat - and have worked away off and on but it looms over me constantly.

I am determined to finish this process, to learn from it, and then to move on and write something spectacular, a much wiser woman.

I have given myself until next Monday, 1 December, to prepare and then I have a year to write 80,000 words. Although I know it's nothing to do with numbers really, it helps to spur me on. It sounds meagre but I need to write 219 words a day, 1538 words a week, 6667 a month. Funny, I really did contemplate joining in the Novel in a month challenge but there's no way in hell! I am a full-time Mum and, as it is, there is never a moment when I don't feel as if I should be doing something. My family comes first, sleep second, the novel - second equal, maybe... Friends are counted as family xxx