Storytime

Another year, another writing retreat. It was all it was meant to be. I'm not saying I began a novel, wrote twenty seven poems or even two short stories... But...I did edit seven poems, read one poem out for workshopping and edited my junior novel. Work was done. As usual we walked... When we walk, we talk. Sometimes about our families and our home life, but mostly it's about our writing, our process, our dreams, aspirations and goals. It is often interesting how a different location, getting out of our comfort zones, can make us realise many truths. Do we really want what we say we want? Cryptic but so apt....does that person REALLY want to write short stories or are they now more poetry focused. We do tend to end up down Philip Island way---usually very close to the beach. This time we landed a bit more rurally bucolic. More rolling green hills than surf--but lots of nice cows to look out and admire. Even when we were locked in while a farmer went to get hi...

I have more first drafts than finished pieces. A lot more. In fact if I really thought about how much more I think I'd panic. Because in truth I'm pretty good at first drafts. First drafts- or better yet- call it an idea. A glimmer. A speck that gets put down. Yep, I'm real good at that. A few lines here, a thought there, paragraph there....few hundred words over there, few thousand way out there. And usually that's where they'll stay. This is the latest 'first draft'. My junior novel, nearly 12, 000 words. And it is soooooo first draft...in actual fact it's more like a series of scenes with no connection or flow. But it is printed out, ready for me to go over and edit this weekend... and take copious notes. Lots and lots of notes. My big question is -  will I do any more to it? I don't have a great track record. Oh there are short stories and poems and even novels, yes novels, that I've worked on and edited and re-edited and po...

BECAUSE... it's a Monday, or Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. It's a Saturday or a Sunday. Any day will do. Don't have to differentiate- to pick and choose- simply do it because you can.  You are wearing jeans, pants, trackies, shorts, nothing, t-shirt, gown, overalls, dress, skirt, sneakers, boots, thongs, sandals, slippers, black socks, pink socks, stripey socks. It's wintry cold, bleak and dark....summer heat, bright and sizzling.....cool autumn with her mantle of leaves and decay.....promise of spring growth and rebirth. There's a house to clean, washing to do, groceries to buy, cooking to do, lawns to mow, beds to make, work to be done. Unfortunately it will still be there tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. The dog needs to be walked, the cat to be fed, horse to be ridden, fish to be groomed, hamster to run, snake to be coiled, llama to be trimmed. There is always something to be done. Words bubble and broil on the edge of...

School holidays and the library is packed. We have children everywhere. Playing on the games, on the computers, watching the puppet theatre, coming to the special Storytimes. Last week I had a Teddy Bear's Picnic and encouraged everyone to bring their bear along for the day. Fifty three children came, almost everyone had a bear. I met Twinkle Bear, Princess Bear, Blue Bear, Bert, Isabella, Minnie Mouse who thinks she is a bear, Blanket Bear....I met a lot of bears. Each had their own personality, their own voice and their own definite character. Of course I had to pack a picnic basket and my bears. I set out a picnic blanket, set out plates and cups for my two bears. In fact one little girl set her bear down next to one of mine and they 'talked' throughout all the stories. Another little girl took a fancy to one bear and he kept 'vanishing'. (It happens a lot, always have to double check where my bear/ puppet / book has gone and hope it comes back...with...

Winter has well and truly settled in. It's cold.....not even brisk but cold. Can't feel your fingers and dragon's breath cold. It has been very wet with days of rain and you can't help but want to hibernate when the days seem so short and dark. People are dropping with colds and flus and tonsillitis and throats on fire. There are some that love winter....they venture to the snowfields....spend weeks and weekends walking up mountains only to slide down them again. I'm not one of them. I find the grey and drab oppressive. I want nothing more than to snuggle down with a good book, or two or even five...and wait till the sun decides to shine once more. However I can't. So I muddle along. And this year has not been helped by our Italian escapade----going from 36 degrees of sunshine in Rome to a brisk top of eleven here has taken a bit of getting used to. Once down in the wintry woes...I can't help but think that it is half way through the year and w...