Storytime

When you write, there are really three basic components. 1. Write.  Sometimes this requires planning, sometimes not---you begin with an idea and you go for it. Let the words and characters and places fill you with wonder and interest as you madly scramble to get it all down. 2. Redraft. Hard work. Bit like a good casserole, you let it stew. Allow the natural juices work for you. Then you taste, season it, add some of this or that. So you leave your work, you re-read it. Often shocked at how appalling / amazing it is. You take out the first chapter, remove 3/4s of the story line, insert a new character, decide to tell it from third person and write it yet again. 3. Editing. All that nit picking. Is this the right word? That comma should not be there...fragment sentence....wrong spelling.  Have I spelt the main character's name the same way all the way through? In reality each of these three are divided into many many sub sections. At the moment I'm stuck on 1.4 ...

It's interesting...Mother's Day comes along (as it does each year) and we are bombed with advertisements. Realistically though how many boxes of chocolates, diamonds (to make Mum's day) or electrical appliances does a woman need....or even want? (Let's not even think about the poor mothers who receive a vacuum cleaner for their day!) And I won't mention all those retailers that insist Mum needs a pair of slippers and a new set of pyjamas.... When the children are young it's nice - and I use that word very carefully- to receive something that they have bought in a mad panic at the school stall. Usually a bar of soap with a fake flower or perhaps a very ill plant in a tin can painted bright pink.  These gifts are usually accompanied by a hand made card, usually strewn with glitter, bright colours and misspelt greetings--- but that makes them all that more beautiful. Sometimes there is breakfast in bed- I have always HATED breakfast in bed. Crumbs and sp...

Recently my daughter and three of her friends completed the Oxfam Trailwalker. A journey of 100 kilometres in 48 hours. It was intense. It was amazing. It was completely insane. As all good challenges go, there were preparations. The team trained and trained..they planned food drops by support crew....they planned appropriate clothing and medical needs. They began chipper and excited...although a tad nervous of what could / would occur. And so they set off.... They walked.....support crews met them, fed them, offered words of comfort and wisdom (well perhaps not exactly wisdom...more like encouragement)....and they walked some more... The trek took them from Wheelers Hill, to Lysterfield Lake, onto Ferntree Gully and then up, up and up to Olinda, over to Mt Evelyn, along the Warburton trail and the mind bending repetitive flats....to Woori Yallock and onto Warburton then the last sprint - up and over Mt Little Joe to Wesburn Park. After much walking, much cold and r...

Last week I went to the Poetry at Christmas Hills...a really enjoyable way to spend an evening after work. Great venue, really good vibe, and always some interesting poetry. And such variety. Because this was just after Easter and the day before Anzac Day...the poetry included works with religious tones but also quite a few war poems. I have never written about war. I know no one that has gone to war (that I'm aware of). I remember when my son was at school they had to interview a grandparent and ask about the war....he talked to Dad. Don't recall a lot of what was said but do know that Dad was about 10 when it began and he remembers catching and eating a lot of rabbits. A child's perspective. A friend of mine, J, was a very small child in London during the war. She remembers huge craters where buildings stood only the week before and her mother telling her not to stare at the man with the disfigured face because he 'just came back'. But then I realis...

Well we've just survived Easter. There was too much food, too much chocolate but never too much family (which is what it is all about). We had my son, his partner and three young ones up for the day.  There was old fashioned fun...hide and seek...penguin bowling (with interference)...and of course the obligatory Easter Egg hunt. There is nothing like watching small children - with the helpful hints of bigger children - scramble around searching for those gaudy decorated eggs. I mean they do stand out...how hard is it to find some of the above nestled amongst books or sitting in a pot plant? Then I remembered a book I read recently. It was a Young Adult, it was set in a futuristic society...there were vampirish like creatures..the world was a dark and bleak place. Or was it? Half way through I had a niggle that something wasn't working for me. Three quarters of the way through and I discovered there was no colour. Don't get me wrong- I didn't expect fl...

      Definition of  pretend  in English: pretend Line breaks: pre|tend Pronunciation:   /prɪˈtɛnd     VERB ·        1 [WITH CLAUSE OR INFINITIVE]  Behave so as to make it appear that something is the case when in fact it is not: Remember as a child when you had watched a movie, or read a book...and then you were that character? Perhaps you were Peter Pan ready to battle Hook....or maybe the cowboy riding in to save the day....Indiana Jones escaping the storm of arrows.... the princess waiting in her castle...a young wizard wielding a wand.... As a child you had the ability to pretend, to lose yourself and become someone else.  The above 'I'm a Frog' is one in the Elephant and Piggie series by Mo Willems (love Mo's work). And in this book Gerald is totally upset because Piggie is no longer herself, she ribbits, she hops,...

At a recent poetry event, nostalgia seemed the theme for the day. A lot of poems focused on remembering people, whether grandparents or parents...best friends from childhood days. But it seemed that even more poems were about childhood. Not necessarily major childhood events, but everyday happenings that to the majority of the audience, took us back to our own childhood. For some of us, childhood was quite a few years ago...but in reality how much has changed? Unfortunately a lot.  Today's child appears to be twinned with technology. How far can a tween go without their phone/ playstation/ Ipad? How many toddlers know exactly how to work an Iphone? They can't speak in coherent sentences, but can show you the photo of the puppy they played with on holiday. And of course there is that whole revolution about getting children moving, getting them into that forgotten sphere of play...outside. How many children of today have discovered a ring of fairy toadstools? Sat down...