Storytime

2010 is nearly over. And what a year. I began 2010 reading I am Legend by Richard Matheson (which the movie is loosely based on, the book as usual, is so much better) and I'm ending the year by reading No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy (another novel which inspired a movie). In between I have read over 60 novels - some I can recommend such as The Seal Wife - Kathryn Harrison, The Road - Cormac McCarthy , The Notebook- Nicholas Sparks and some YA novels such as The Winds of Heaven - Judith Clarke , The Graveyard Book - Neil Gaiman and The Hunger Games - Suzanne Collins. Others - well some had the kernel of a great idea, some had great writing, some were inspired by a real event that did offer up opportunities- but I felt they didn't make a whole. Working in a library means I see what others are reading, I see what 'best sellers' are coming in - and I must admit a lot of times I am disappointed. But then again that's the fun of the library- you can ...

Christmas tree that is. I have always had a real tree and I must admit I can't think of not having one. And yes I know that I will be finding pine needles until late next August but there is something about coming home and having that pine scent - to me that is Christmas. Although we haven't always had a pine tree for Christmas. When I was a child trees 'magically appeared' after my father went for a drive (we lived in a small country town and at that stage there were no Christmas tree farms or boy scout groups selling them) - and I don't think all the trees were pine. And after I left home we have had a variety of trees - some were even potted trees that I eventually managed to kill- but not all pine. The one thing they have had in common was that they were alive - and by the end of the day covered in tinsel. As to the art of decorating the tree - it's usually been a family affair. My daughter and myself decorate, husband watches on with words of encouragem...

It's that time of the year - but not only have I been to a few Christmas events (I"m not really a party person - I tend to be the one in the corner watching everyone -and yes making notes) in the past few weeks we have had other celebrations. My youngest brother turned 40 - that's myself, my brother and my sister - he was a tad 'happy' at this stage :) We also celebrated my husband turning 50, good friends of ours turned 60 and 70 respectively.....and we also celebrated daughter's boyfriend's birthday. And a wedding. This was one of the loveliest weddings I've been to in a long time. It was colourful and fun (everyone wore clothes bought from the Op Shop- including the bridal party) - it was meaningful and joyous. It also involved one of the hardest pieces of writing I've ever done.  I was asked by the groom's mother to write a poem for the wedding. She had to read one and couldn't find anything she liked. Hmm....anyone that knows me ...

So it's now December and I did say I would write a poem a day for November. Wondering how I went? I did write a poem a day- 30 in all. Not all are workable- some were rants- a few were self indulgent tirades- but amongst them are quite a few ideas that I want to work with. I have done this before - given myself the challenge to write a poem a day for a designated time line. Sometimes a week or two, once or twice a month. Usually I have an idea of what I would like to write about, I allow myself the day to think and ponder, for ideas to simmer away. However this time I made myself write the poem first thing in the morning without pre-conceived ideas on what to write. It was very interesting the range of ideas that surfaced. Some were self explanatory. My daughter moved out of home - so a few poems were about that experience. My brother (youngest in the family) turned 40- a few poems about the expectations, the promises, trying to look in the mirror and mesh the image you see...

On Sunday I attended Tiggy Johnson's launch of her first poetry collection, fittingly titled First Taste.   It was great to see her book officially launched by poet  Marian Spires   ( Knowing Vincent- Picaro Press). Tiggy and Marian had a casual 'in conversation' which introduced various poems and the stories behind them - which is always interesting and offers some great insight into the process of the poet. Not only was this the official launch of Tiggy's book it was also her Bon Voyage - the chance to say goodbye before she and her family head to warmer climes. Yes, Tiggy has taken the plunge - sold her house - bought another - has a HUGE crate at her house, is packing everything that doesn't move and is heading off to....Brisbane. There were a few teary eyes on Sunday - some hugs that went on and on as what this meant sunk in. For me, it hasn't yet sunk in. Some of you will know that for the past few years Tiggy and myself have travelled into the...

I belong to a writing group, The Lazy River Writers (named after the restaurant/bar we first met not after our work habits!) and this year marks our tenth anniversary. Tenth I believe is tin- malleable yet with a strength that deceives. Fitting for the group. We began as a collection of strangers, brought together via a writing workshop run at Belgrave library. The tutor suggested that since we worked well as a group, we should keep meeting once a month. And so we have. Members have left, new ones arrived, some have left for a duration then returned. My husband often asks why a writing group? The answer is quite complex. Firstly it's for the support and understanding. All members of the LRW can relate to a month of rejections, even the nice ones. They understand the frustration when the words in our head don't magically appear on the page. They know there are the months when life intrudes and nothing gets written, those months when the best plans are tossed aside, or ...

Stories that is. Everywhere. Some come from snippets of overheard conversation * 'I don't date anyone over twenty two.' I HAD to turn around to see which guy was talking.- can I mention he was no longer in his 20's- perhaps not even his 30's. From observations * A couple are dancing on the footpath- not waltzing but he's holding her close and swinging her round and round - no music plays I wound down the window on the car to see if I could hear music - nothing- but the image made me smile- and wondering.... From personal anecdotes. *Celebrating a friend's 70th with coffee and cake and he says he would love to write down his story (he has had the most INTERESTING  life) but doesn't know where to start- how to put it down on paper - he left school at 13 so thinks that he can't. When he began the story 'Did I tell you we owned a boarding house in Wellington during the war?' you know you're onto something. I've offered to help ...