Storytime

I'm a character person. Don't get me wrong, hopefully something happens as well in one of my stories but to me, it's the character that drives a piece of writing. I'm not talking 'she was 175 cm tall, weighed 70 kg, had long blonde hair, blue eyes' To me that's boring. For me it's the small details that add interest, that help to build a multi-layered character. Let's create a character. How about a woman, a stay at home mum. And that is boring. It's a simple sketch- we have no idea about this woman at all. Let's add some details. She is shy and finds social occasions something she has to do, rather than want to do. Parties tend to send her into a panic. She's still boring, and now sounds like a wall flower as well. How about if we add this information - She had an idyllic beachside childhood, with assorted siblings, loving mother and father. Although she is terrified of deep water and never learnt to swim, she loves boa...

Last weekend we had the 'official' opening of our new library - 3 weeks after actually opening. There were entertainers and balloons, family storytimes and Spot the Dog. It was a lot of fun- so I'm told, and I was there. But like everyone else that works in the branch, I have not yet had the time to sit back, relax and actually enjoy the new surroundings. We are too busy planning new activities and programs for the year ahead...and just working. Sound familiar? After I receive notice that a story or poem is to be published, say YEAH out loud (perhaps a smallish jig if this is a magazine that I've been trying to get into for quite a while) I get back into. Work on the next piece to send out. Not that you have to have fireworks every time you receive an acceptance... However I don't think we celebrate all those small steps. Yes it's great to be published, more so if payment is part of the proposition. But do we celebrate when that poem finally wor...

It's that time of the year - for me at least. I've spent the past few months sending works out...and now the waiting game begins. Waiting for weeks, sometimes months, sometimes even more months. Hoping for that 'yes' but more often than not receiving... It's a part of life when you write. You sit in your lonely garret, pen to the paper (or in my case, sit in my bedroom, fingers at the keyboard) and you create. You attempt to put down what moves you, those wondrous sentences that dance before your eyes. For me, that's the fun part. The creation. Then you edit. And edit. And edit some more. Finally, with a deep breath and some belief in what you have created you send it out into the ether, hoping that an editor/ publisher/ editorial committee or judge will see the beauty in what you have created. There is no denying that a rejection hurts. Although it is no longer as painful as when I started out- at that early stage I had not built up those layers of self...

Facts are some of the most interesting (and useless) pieces of information. A CAT HAS 32 MUSCLES IN EACH EAR As I said, interesting but what good does it do us?...and of course we all know someone that will dredge up facts at a quiet dinner amongst friends or at a party. Throw them at us and then sulk when we don't give thunderous applause for now knowing the scintillating fact that- A JELLYFISH IS 95 PERCENT WATER . But sometimes when faced with a blank page, when a case of the dreaded writers block strikes, facts can be a starting point for a piece of writing. Could be a short story, a poem, even the basis of a novel. All you need is a fact that intrigues you, that sets you thinking 'what if'. EVERY PERSON HAS A UNIQUE TONGUE PRINT Hmm, the mind begins to swirl....a detective story where the tongue print is the key to finding the killer? Could they cut off a tongue in the same way they burn the fingers of victims - making it harder to identify a body? Do i...

I've been told that I write the same story- dark, sad, full of despair and betrayal- over and over again. Have even been challenged 'can you write a happy-ever-after story?' The answer is yes. My story in 100stories for Queensland is a love story. I wrote a poem for the mother of the groom to read at her son's wedding. I HAVE written stories and poetry with a sense of humour, that engage a smile or even a laugh or chuckle from the audience. But I do admit most of my stories (and poems) have a darker side. This is partly personality (mine) and the fact I am more of an observer than a participant. I find people intriguing, their interactions and the reasons behind why they do things fascinate me. And lets face it, the story of girl meeting boy and living happily ever after is boring. Throw in a few dragons, an evil guy wanting the girl for his own and a step-mother or two (wicked of course)- and we get a bit of interest. And I may write the same 'style'...

How many people does it take to move a library? Lots. Well it's done. We have moved from our temporary site .... To our new home. There was a lot of boxes involved - packing books into them- dismantling shelves- then at the other end, mantling shelves (?) and of course unpacking.... Moving house is easier. I know it's hard work but honestly - you move- and if all you do is set up a bed to sleep in, put all the boxes marked kitchen in that area - you can muddle for a few weeks (or months) before you discover where everything is. Moving a library is more difficult. Items have to be placed correctly, in the correct area, correct shelf and even in correct order. (picture teams of shelvers perfect ordering, bless their cotton socks) But we are home... (well it actually has walls now) - and home we will stay. None of us want to move again. We are settled, secure and looking forward to all that a new surrounding has to offer. This is looking into the children's...

I'm always impressed when writers can put together a poem, short story, or even a novel set in the place they live. I read poems set in inner suburbs, tramping grounds of the poet who lives just around the corner. Short stories set in streets that are seeped in reality, down to the pigeons on the statue of some long forgotten founder that stares morosely to the west. I've written about where I grew up as a child, but where I live now? Perhaps I need to live in the gritty inner suburbs? The rambling countryside where the view is of cows and haystacks? Or in a small coastal town where life revolves around the weather? Perhaps I don't feel at 'home' where I live? I have attempted poems set in my suburb. But I find it so hard to get the right emotional contact. I don't want it to sound cool or mawkish, remote or seeped in purple prose. And don't get me wrong, I love where I live. It's a suburb with one general store cum post office, tennis court...