Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Mar 20, 2017

Work vs Self-Promotion


Here we go: yet another article with "advice" on how to find success - this time at Forbes.com with a terrific example of the genre entitled 'Want to be successful? Quit working so hard'.

There is a solid kernel of truth in this advice, at least in the title. Being known as a 'hard worker', and slaving away at a desk job (or any job) for 12 hours a day will not generally be rewarded with 'success' in terms of money and renown.  Most of us already know this, even if some of us (ahem) only figured it out after years of doing the same.

Aug 2, 2014

Words for Wednesday: The Good Shot

'Words for Wednesday' is a writing prompt held by Delores at Under the Porch Light.
Use some or all of the week's words, write a poem or a story or part of a story, and visit Delores' current week's prompt to let her know you've joined in.

This week the prompt words were:


marksman

stellar

blindsided

indelible

crazed

imbecile

Here is my story:


The Good Shot

Austin was new to shooting, but his marksmanship was improving by the day. Yesterday his performance was stellar; he had stunned his team mates with his accuracy and ruthless cunning. Approaching stealthily, he had blindsided local legend Danny Frank with a shot to the heart that felled him, wide-eyed and silent, in front of shocked on-lookers.


The impression Austin left was indelible. He went home exhausted and triumphant, the power of the weapon and his unexpected skill making him feel slightly crazed, almost dizzy.  But there was still plenty of work to be done. Only an imbecile would relax now, when there was so little time to practice and improve. The Grand National Paint-Ball Championship was less than a week away.




* * * 

So silly - but this was fun anyway.  Thanks for the words, Delores!

Apr 7, 2014

12 Resolutions: April (and March recap)

This year I'm playing along with #12Resolutions on Twitter and Facebook. The idea is to set yourself short-term, achievable goals, one each month. 

January went very well. I stuck to that resolution and am still doing it: I walk the dog at least once a day and occasionally even twice. The dog is happy, I'm happier, all good. 

February was not so good - I failed.  Typical to New Years' Resolutions, I think start-of-year enthusiasm was enough to carry me through January. But that tends to run out by February, and then actual effort is needed.  Also, the January resolution has been easier to keep up, because (a) it has created a habit, and (b) I am beholden to someone else - my dog, who basically will not let me not do our daily walk.

So how did March go? Well, I did it. I wrote my short story. It is "finished" though still in draft form, and I'm not happy with it. Creation is hard, you guys! Like drawing, which I have also always done and love doing, it's very hard to get the item that's in your head - fuzzy and yet dazzlingly perfect - out of your head and onto the page. Anyway, I did get my story done, and that's a win!

I also did make a start on my course, completing two topics in the first module. 


So now: April.

Bron who is the moderator of our 12Resolutions Facebook group, set her April goal as "visit GP", something she had intended to do for ages but kept putting off.  I realised I had exactly the same problem, so I too set my goal as VISIT THE GP.

I have to admit, there is something to this small goal stuff *.

The same day I posted the resolution, I made my GP appointment, and was there the next evening. I got a referral I needed, made a follow-up booking for my overdue secret-womens-business test, and so already my goal is halfway achieved. So, #winning.

I've now decided to bite the bullet and get a full check-up - blood tests etc. There is nothing especially wrong with me, that losing weight and eating better wouldn't solve. But instead of waiting until I lose that weight (never gonna happen) before I get a full health checkup, I've decided to do it now.

The last one I did was about three years ago, offered through my work. I was (almost) as overweight then and all the bloods came back okay, so I think I have nothing to fear. Except fear itself.

There is so much we tend to put off while needing to lose weight. Meanwhile, years go by!



(Maybe I should set a goal to blog more consistently...)



#12Resolutions:

January: walk 5 times a week (done - I now walk daily)
February: write 2 short stories (failed - wrote none!)
March: write 1 short story, and start Project Management course (done)
April: visit GP and complete or schedule the follow-ups


iosphere/FreeDigitalPhotos.net


Mar 3, 2014

12 Resolutions: March

This year I'm playing along with #12Resolutions on Twitter and Facebook. The idea is to set yourself short-term, achievable goals, one each month. 

January started out really well. I stuck to that resolution and am still doing it: I walk the dog at least once a day and occasionally even twice. The dog is happy, I'm happier, all good. 

February? Oh dear. Not so good. I am ashamed to say I did not even pick up my pen/laptop to write those stories I intended

I was full of confidence and enthusiasm at the end of January, but I overestimated myself with this goal. Despite constantly writing notes and story snippets and thinking of fiction in my head, the truth is I am a novice writer and that goal was probably too lofty or me.

I hummed and hawed about whether to discard this goal for something else, or to stick with it, and I have come up with a middle way: for March I will attempt to write ONE short story, and it won't matter if it's not publishable or even the final draft; it will be enough to have something notionally complete on paper, and I can improve on it later.

I have also paid for and enrolled in an online project management course for work, and promised myself to start that in March, so my plate will be full this month.

Image by Africa/FreeDigitalPhotos.net


What's on your to-do list this month?


#12Resolutions:


January: walk 5 times a week (done - I now walk daily)
February: write 2 short stories  (failed!)

March: write ONE short story; begin Project Management course

Jan 31, 2014

12 Resolutions: February

This year I'm playing along with #12Resolutions on Twitter and Facebook. The idea is to set yourself short-term, achievable goals, one each month. 

For February, I'm setting myself a writing challenge. 

I could (and should) commit to doing Words for Wednesday every week instead of intermittently, and now Anna Spargo-Ryan has a writing prompt too, so there's no shortage of opportunity...

But I've been tinkering around with a few ideas, and I started writing two short stories some time ago, which I haven't touched for awhile but am very often thinking about.  So I thought I should finish them. Or if not them, write and finish something else.

After I formed my February resolution and shared it on the 12 Resolutions Facebook group (eeek), I started catching up on some blog reading. (After all, it's not February yet!).  And I came across this post which was perfect reading for me right now.  In it Anna Spargo-Ryan talks about how she has been "a writer on the inside" ever since she was a child and had always thought of herself as a writer, and was suddenly made to realise that she wasn't actually writing in reality. So she started writing in reality. (Read it - it's better than that).

I wrote poems and stories as a child and did writing classes when younger and have kept a notebook ever since I was a kid, and I read and am always toying with story ideas in my head (or my notebook), so it's time I started setting myself to actually WRITE SOME STUFF.  I've been meaning to for, oh, you know... thirty years... but am finding myself more urgently preoccupied by it in the last year or so.  These days it seems like everyone's a writer of some sort, and there is so much stuff out there to inspire and help - millions of excellent articles, stories and books of course, but also blogs and resources, how-to's, and information on every aspect of writing, reading and publishing that you could want (SO much to procrastinate with...) 

I've learned a lot from all this stuff. I've been practicing (and had one tiny thing published online), and I'm ready to go.  

So my resolution for February is to write two short stories.

By that I mean finish them to final draft status, so that I can try and submit them to writerly publishing outlets. My resolution is not to get published (though of course that's what I'd like). My resolution is just to write two stories

I can do that!

Meanwhile, thanks to January's resolution, I will also continue walking every day.


#12Resolutions:

January: walk 5 times a week 
February: write 2 short stories


thaikrit / FreeDigitalPhotos.net


Nov 9, 2013

Words for Wednesday: a true Friday story

'Words for Wednesday' is a writing prompt held by Delores at Under the Porch Light.
Use some or all of the week's words, write a poem or a story or a fragment, and visit Delores' current week's prompt to let her know you've joined in.

This week's words are:
insignificant
crimson
mottled
track
border
spinning


This week I have a TRUE story. This is what happened to me tonight:


The car's problems seemed insignificant at first. I knew there was a problem with the radiator, and had felt the car's performance weaken. But I couldn't find the time or the cash to get it repaired just yet, so I kept it topped up with water and coolant and hoped for a few weeks' reprieve.

However, tonight coming home on the freeway, even I could not ignore the plumes of smoke that poured out from under the hood. I got off the freeway and pulled over. I used the maps app on my phone to track my exact location, and called for roadside assistance.

It was a ninety minute wait for the RACV. That was OK. It was a Friday night after all, and my car was my own damn fault. 

Fortunately I had a book with me. I buy books on Kindle these days, but I had treated myself the previous week to an actual paper book - and I had to admit it had been a joy reading it. It is nice to hold a physical book in your hands, and reading from paper is, after all, the easiest way to read. 

When the RACV guy arrived, he pointed out the evidence of my neglect: there was a hole in the radiator and rust around the battery, and I had been driving it hot for too long. I flushed crimson as he frowned over the engine. 

He arranged a tow truck and I got back in my car to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

The sun went down. It turned cold. It started to rain. 

I put on my jacket, swallowed the bit of water in my drink bottle, and picked up my phone. I couldn't do much because my battery was low, and I knew I should save it. But still, I scrolled through Twitter, played a move in Words With Friends, and read a couple of blogs. I read Under The Porch Light's Words for Wednesday story about a woman waiting for a tow truck, while I waited for the tow truck.

I checked the time. It had been more than an hour. I rang the RACV, just to check if the tow truck had been ordered. It had.  

My phone battery was now very low. I texted my mother (who was minding my kids) and let her know not to be concerned if I didn't text or call again, because my phone was about to go dead.

I pulled out my book again and re-read the first chapter, trying to deconstruct how the author had set up the story and how he had started the action. It was a very good book.

The rain continued. Through the car window it made mottled shadows on the page of my book. Oh thank goodness, I thought. I finally found a use for "mottled" for Words for Wednesday!

My phone battery died. Forlornly I watched the little round symbol spinning to death on the screen, and then I was all alone.

It's very disconcerting to be without a phone these days. I was sitting alone in an empty carpark on a dark, cold rainy night, with no one I knew knowing where I was and no way to contact anyone.  My mind wandered a little to various scenarios. What if my interior car light attracted thugs or rapists or outlaw bikie gangs? What if I had to walk to a payphone? Was there even such a thing anymore? What if I missed the tow truck while I was walking to a payphone? What if I disappeared, never to be found again?

I sat there tottering on the border of panic for a minute, then reminded myself (a) I was not in dire straits, just waiting for a tow truck, (b) I was probably five minutes walk from Chadstone shopping centre, and (c) in the olden days of my youth I had been quite capable of surviving a couple of hours without access to a phone.

I turned on the radio and listened to the news. People in the Philippines are being battered by Typhoon Haiyan right now. I was just a woman with a #firstworldproblem, sitting in a broken down car created by her own laziness, waiting for a tow truck which would eventually come.

And it did. Eventually.


notarim/flickr creative commons







Nov 2, 2013

I've been published by someone other than me

I've got a micro-story in Literary Juice magazine.
It's called 'Playhouse', and you can read it here

I'm a little bit excited about it!

Sep 28, 2013

Words for Wednesday

'Words for Wednesday' is a writing prompt held by Delores at Under the Porch Light.
Use some or all of the week's words, write a poem or a story or a fragment, and visit Delores' current week's prompt to let her know you've joined in.

This week's words are:


spasm

uneventful

trek

early

limestone

felt

Here is my story:

Between the beaches of Perissa and Kamari on Santorini lies the stark white rock called Mesa Vouno. 'Vouno' means mountain, but it's a hill. It can be climbed in an hour, if you're young and fit, which I was back then. I climbed it one day early in the summer season, when I had hours between shifts at the bar where I worked. I wore my hiking boots and carried a daypack whose contents I don't remember but were probably a book, a chocolate bar and a bottle of water. 

The sun was hard and bright, and the limestone scree made the climb tricky in places. There was a path but it was easy to lose. It was hard going, but despite the heat I felt good. I liked to be alone and I liked to walk. The trek over this strange, scrabbly white hill was exhilarating. 

At the top, I stopped to catch my breath and enjoy the view. I was alone on the summit and could see Perissa on one side, Kamari on the other, and behind me the island's only true mountain, Profitas Ilias. On the beaches there were people, but up here there was no one. I was gloriously, wonderfully alone.

I shuffled closer to the edge of a steep drop, and looked for the easiest route down. The climb up had been uneventful, but climbing up was easy. Climbing down was hard. I scuffed the loose rock with my foot and a sudden tumble of stones clattered straight down the drop. In a moment I lost my footing and flailed wildly. A spasm of terror. I twisted and landed on my stomach, sliding down; my hands grabbed rocks that moved with me. The crack and clatter of tumbling stones was loud - louder than my shallow breaths and my own blood pounding in my throat. I seemed to slide forever, but it was only a few feet. I lay still for a moment, too scared to move, then sat up shaking. My pants were dusty and torn at one knee. My palms and chin were grazed painfully. 

I stood shakily and looked around me. There was no one else. I was completely, utterly alone.



fitzgabbro/Flickr Creative Commons


(This is a climb I did do, many years ago, and I was all alone - but there was no mishap. I did have a moment though, climbing down the hill covered in loose rock, where I realised if I did fall, there was no one to help me.... This was in the days before mobile phones.
Oh, and Mesa Vouno is actually partially limestone - I wasn't sure but thought it might be. Confirmed in this geological map of Santorini).

Sep 10, 2013

Words for Wednesday - 4 September

'Words for Wednesday' is a writing prompt held by Delores at Under the Porch Light.
I did this for the first time last week, and enjoyed it a lot.

Last Wednesday's words were:

crystallize

morbid

fragrance

cling

instant

blueprint


Here is my contribution. 





In those dying days Alan took calls from a hundred desperate clients.  They rang at all hours, in a panic, some weeping. There were others he called, who were unable to make a decision, silent on the other end of the phone in their shock. Some were still strategizing, taking a hit here or there to crystallize a loss for a write-off, or scanning value stocks with a buyer’s eye even as everything went to hell. In the office things were frantic for a couple of weeks, and then quiet, as the money ran out and the phones stopped ringing. Some of the advisers took a holiday, or stayed home. But Alan was salaried and anyway had nowhere to go. So he stayed at his terminal, watching the lines of red numbers with morbid, daily obsession.

There were moments, even days, where things seemed to pick up, as a few stocks bounced up from rock-bottom and the market pounced. When these bounces lasted more than a day, the office became vibrant. Even though everyone knew it was nothing it was good to be busy; good to remember the excitement and the happiness from past times – the sweet fragrance of wealth.  It was easy to cling to that buzz and that hope, and everyone did.

Alan was young and had missed the bull market. “You’ll catch the next one,” they told him. They even said his timing was perfect because he was building up clients and knowledge right now, and when the market took off – as it would, finally – he’d be in on the ground floor.

But meantime the perks were all gone. The cars, the lunches, the drinks, the gym memberships, the couriers and the dry cleaning – not to mention the cash bonuses. All gone. They were never coming back, everyone said.  Of course, they probably would, eventually. Just not to this generation.

Companies struggled not to sink and withheld that truth from their staff. All over the city, companies sank or merged or were bought out, and people lost their jobs. Alan had no idea how his company was faring. No one did, either inside or outside the dealing room.   Internal communications insisted all was well.  Prospects were good, said the emails, and the company’s strengths and market share were keeping them in the black even as others sank around them. Things were tight, no question – and it was true that some serious cuts would need to be made. But if everyone stayed focused and kept doing what they were doing, then the company would continue to do well, buoyed by its greatest asset: its people.

The communications never mentioned the company’s balance sheet. They were light on detail and never included a specific dollar amount, target figure, future date or indeed any number of any kind. They were all words – words and no numbers. In an industry which was usually, proudly, all numbers and formulae, someone had changed the language. 


Outside the dealing room and away from the numbers, priorities had changed in an instant. Gone without mention were the old roadmaps, goal sheets and mission statements. The policies and procedures page kept moving on the intranet, and whole sections were gone. The only direction now was to survive. The blueprint was secret. 

Sep 3, 2013

(Last) Wednesday's Words

'Words for Wednesday' is a writing prompt held by Delores at Under the Porch Light.
I haven't done one of these yet, but I enjoy reading River's so thought I would give it a go.

Last Wednesday's words were:

drugged

scandalous

frying

clerk

entrance

hidden

Here is my contribution.


I awoke in full sun, heavy and slow as if drugged. I had to pull myself together. I was losing control, losing my grip on proper behaviour. Sleeping all through the morning every day this week, barely leaving the house, speaking to no one. A scandalous way for a grown person to behave.

I blinked and sat up slowly. I could smell eggs frying from the flat across the hall. There'd be no frying here. I'd be lucky if there was enough bread and butter to make toast. Was there coffee? I couldn't remember, but I thought there was not.

I didn't get out of bed. I couldn't go into work. I just couldn't. I hadn't been all week, had stopped calling in sick. I had stopped answering the phone, and I'd ignored the buzzing at the door yesterday too. A colleague had come to the entrance of the flats, buzzed and called my name, and then accosted someone walking out the security door, but they hadn't let him in. Today there was silence. What could they do? They'd fire me, I knew. I didn't care. I was just a clerk. They didn't need me. I didn't need work, if only I could stay hidden in this flat, this room, this bed, for long enough. 

But as it turned out, I couldn't. This was the last morning I would spend in this torpor. Because although I didn't know it at that moment, everything was about to change.


And thank goodness for that. I have no idea where this "story" would go, but I couldn't just leave the poor character in that state ;)






Jul 16, 2013

I must confess... I'm trying something I don't know if I can do

I must confess... I am a bit poorly today. The family has been sick with this bronchial thing that has been sweeping Melbourne, and though I thought I had escaped it is now my turn.

I should be sleeping instead of blogging, so I must confess I am going to tap this out FAST and get into my bed.

For those who know me it's no secret I have long harbored writing ambitions. I must confess, those who know me have long stopped expecting me to do anything about it.

But a couple of months ago I started toying with a young adult novel, and I have written... half of a first chapter. I must confess I have become stuck, and am easily distracted reading writing tips and saving writing websites to my new writing folder in my browser favorites. I must confess I spend too much time 'researching' my central theme and plot points and too little time writing.

I must confess I follow writers on Twitter and try to glean wisdom from their tweets and websites, and I spend too much time trying to work out their age and incomes and free time relative to mine. I must confess I know full well no one else is swimming in money and free time and the only real difference between them and me is they are actually WRITING.


JulieJordanScott/Flickr
I could write if I had a river


However, I must confess I have AT LAST taken some small steps. I fired off a 25-word fiction story to a magazine (baby steps...) and have entered the Australian Writers' Centre Shortest Short Story Competition. You can too - it's here.

I also found inspiration from the Write On linky at BabyBaby, and have started two short stories based on her word prompts. Alas, they are not finished, so I haven't been able to link up anything. But one day...


So that's my confession. What about you? Go on - confess. 
The link is here:  I must confess...

I must confess

Jul 8, 2013

I must confess... I love your blog

Oooh, tricky. I've been looking for a linky I can get into for some time, since a couple of my favourite ones wound up, and have decided to try out this one.

The linky is "I Must Confess..." by Kirsty at My Home Truths, this week hosted by Rhianna at A Parenting Life.

But, I suppose fittingly enough for a confession theme, this week's topic is a bit difficult.

It's "blogs you love".

I like lots of blogs, but I can't list them all here. I also don't want to hurt anyone's feelings or have anyone whose blog I read think I don't like it.

(Fact: if I read or comment on your blog, I like it).


My blog reading and tracking is also a bit of a mess at the moment. Here are all the ways I am following blogs at the moment:

  • updates on my Blogger dashboard
  • blogs I've liked on Facebook
  • blogs I've subscribed to by email
  • blogs I catch up with via Twitter
  • blogs I've followed on Bloglovin
  • blogs I've linked to on Networked Blogs
  • clicking on blogs listed in my sidebar
  • clicking on blog shortcuts I've saved to my phone's home screen
  • clicking on links I've saved to my browser favourites

So I'm a bit all over the place, and not all the blogs I follow/like are even listed on my sidebar.

I'm also not going to list ALL my favourite ones here - it would take too long. So here are just a few, that I tend to read most often.  In no particular order:

Cranky Old Man - Joe worked in finance and is cranky, so I relate to a lot of his thoughts. He is also prolific, posting every day and always good, funny, thoughtful stuff.
 You Learn Something New Every Day - I really like this premise (as it's true) and the way Emily has structured her blog, each post reminding us of this simple, pleasing fact.
My Unwelcome Stranger - Denis blogs about life seen through the lens of living with serious illness. As he is also a historian his blog is beautiful with memories, culture and history, as well as general observations. 
A Patchwork Life - Tracey does beautiful crafts and takes equally beautiful photos, making me realise for the hundredth time how crap I am at photography. She is also often parenting alone - like me!
 Adventures of a Middle Aged Matron - Anna writes about life as a vicar's wife and parent to teenagers and her writing is absolutely top-notch. Lovely blog.
 AMFYOYO - Meggsie's blog is simple, very well written, and great. She doesn't write as often as others, but every post is a gem. She's also honest in a real way, with complaints about her husband and kids that make you gasp, laugh and nod all at once. Great reading.
Also:
The Plastic Mancunian - makes me snort out loud. Read his latest on email.
Blurb From the Burbs - come back, Kath!
Princess Pandora - life from a (usually) different perspective to mine
Decoding the New Economy - the kind of economic analysis I love
And:

Blue Milk, Science of Mom, Caro and Co, Life in a Pink Fibro.... but really, I must stop.



What are YOUR favourite blogs? 
(Apart from this one, of course..!)

Link up to A Parenting Life here

The usual location of I Must Confess:

http://myhometruths.com/i-must-confess/

Apr 8, 2013

The End of Cursive

Recently in a doctor's waiting room while flicking through a National Geographic I found a little article about the decline of cursive writing ('Disappearing Act', National Geographic, July 2012).

I learned cursive writing in school in the US where I went to primary school in 1979, 1980 and 1981 (Grades 4 and 5 and a bit of Grade 6).

Palmer script as I learned it in the US as a child.
I still remember it perfectly.


Before that I'd been learning the simpler 'Victorian Modern Cursive' that is taught in schools in Australia - my kids are using it now.

Victorian Modern Cursive, from the back
of my daughters' school writing books


On my first day of school in LA we were given a writing assignment, and I looked at the curly cursive letters on the board and freaked. I put my hand up and when my teacher came over I whispered, in shame and panic, that I couldn't do that kind of writing. She told me it was fine and to just use my normal writing. So naturally instead of doing that I invented some weird hybrid between the writing I knew and what I could see on the board, and I decided that I would be using the same writing as everyone else by the next day.

I don't write like this naturally anymore, but it easily comes back to me:




In 1982 I started school in New Zealand. I was in Form Two (grade six equivalent) and I think from memory they were doing some sort of cursive, but I was allowed to stick with my American writing which I did, though again I changed it a bit to fit in. I dropped the curly capitals for straight printed capitals, and I gradually dropped my cursive r's and s's for versions closer to print.

Once I was in high school, I don't think anyone cared how we wrote, as long as it was legible. At university, we took notes by hand in all lectures and tutorials, and all our essays were handwritten. I could write for hours before my hand cramped up, unlike now.


I now write in my own confused scrawl.





I write in Victorian Modern if I'm writing with my kids, but I still find it a funny, ugly-looking script. I always think it looks weird when I see adults writing it (people my age and younger). It looks like children's writing. And can I share how much I hate the lower-case p?




My kids are using the non-joined up version, and it's probably the only version they'll ever use.

These days, more schools are dropping cursive, as there is no longer any need for it. I'd be surprised if kids growing up now ever use handwriting in future for anything other than very short simple notes.


If you grew up learning cursive, your first reaction might be sadness or outrage at this calamity, but you would be wrong. You might be surprised to learn (as I was) that cursive only came about because it was the easiest way of writing with a quill and ink, to lift the pen off the page as little as possible. Ever since the printing press, cursive has been on a decline in favor of block printing (National Geographic, July 2012).

Even my American Palmer script is a simplified version which was no doubt reviled in its day. My mother writes her name in lovely old-fashioned cursive prettier than mine, and my grandmother used to have even lovelier handwriting.

Spencerian script - via Wikipedia Commons.
Beautiful but am I alone in associating this with
drafty old school rooms and slaps with a wooden ruler?

So farewell, beautiful cursive. I'll miss you sometimes. You've given me some good memories. But times change and so does writing. If it didn't then where would we be?

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