Storytime

 I do love the way children have such an imagination. To them, anything and everything is possible. They have no editors or critics. Their stories feature themselves as hero, naturally, sometimes mum or dad will make an appearance, sometimes a bestest ever friend...sometimes their pet. They live in the now, and the now is really quite amazing. One of my regular Storytimers loves superheroes. Batman, Superman, Spiderman, Hulk, Green Lantern. His favourite though is Spiderman. And he can tell me every episode he has watched...in minute detail. And this is what he did last week. His story went a bit like this....... so Spiderman came out of the house, but this wasn't the real Spiderman, this was the bad one, the black one, do you know the bad one? he's the one that isn't really Spiderman but looks just like him, except he's not, and he's bad..and he's black...which isn't what the real Spiderman looks like ...not the good one...and then when he ca...

I'm always in awe of those poets that get up on stage and just go for it. No piece of paper in their hand, no mobile phone or Ipad clutched tight. They simple burst with poetry. They have memorised their work and are now performing it. Not reading, not simply uttering words ...it is a performance. And it's always something amazing to see. Every now and then I like to give myself that challenge...to memorise a piece of poetry and recite it. I have asked various poets over the years how they do it...how they manage to remember their work...and it's by repetition.  No simple and quick format...it's by going over and over the poem. So that's what I do. I pick a poem, and this is very important, pick the right poem. Not every poem is a spoken word poem. And not every poem will be easily memorised. I find that it has to have a flow. If it starts here and abruptly goes there, then back tracks way over to the pre beginning....it's very hard to get it down. ...

It's that time of the year, as the months zoom past faster than they have any right to, that most of us begin to wonder what on earth have we done with said year. Recently among various writing buddies I've had some interesting conversations regarding success. According to the Oxford Dictionary...success is the accomplishment of an aim or purpose.  According to some training I did a month ago...success is a high self image and happiness. For me, it's a mix of the two.  That small glow when the lawns are mowed...success. Managing thirty sit ups...success. Finally seeing the swathe of flowers you planted over a year ago in flower...success. When I began writing, the idea of success was easy. So very easy. It was seeing something of mine in print. The first story I had published was in the, now long gone, Aussie Post. Someone I knew had written a 'yarn' and had it published. And paid for. I wondered how hard could it be....wrote a story, sent it in. And...

Just had a relaxing weekend with a lovely friend Kim, and her son Max. We talked, ate (Indian feast at night, out for breakfast the next morning, then Italian Pizza extravaganza for lunch)...we went for a very muddy, chilly but sunny walk with Tilly (aka the Wonder Horse). It was great to catch up....we so don't do this often enough. I'm always left inspired after a Kim catch up. She's a personal trainer, so is very good at motivation and just getting it done. And this rubs off on me in so many ways. Probably more than she ever thinks. During one of our talks she spoke how she had given homework to her 'trainee's. They had to think about what 'fills their jug.' What replenishes and restores them. It is a cliche (but dare I say a truth) that women give so much. To their work, to family and friends, to the eternal housework, to all that means keeping hearth and home together. But you can't run on empty...mentally or physically. She wa...