Tag Archives: human

Writers and non-writers

A lot of non-writing people think that when you say you are a writer you have had books published and you are successful and have a lot of money or you are a social recluse.

They imagine that I sit for three hours a day or more just tapping away from beginning to end the same novel day in and day out until it is finished and then post it to the nearest publisher and within a week or two I get a phone call about how great the novel is and how I should expect to join some top celebrity at some award ceremony somewhere and become a millionaire within a year. 

But this couldn’t be further from the truth unfortunately.

For me, writing is mostly planning, writing short snippets that doesn’t go anywhere and redoing work I have already done.  I don’t follow a set pattern to my work as my brain (as well as most other writers I know) doesn’t have an organised brain like that.  Also quite a lot of my time as a writer is spent imagining things freely without writing, because the thoughts sometimes come too fast that I simply cannot type or write fast enough!

I will think about my vampires one minute and do a paragraph there, then I am onto the mermaid story and do a few lines there, then my brain will give me an altogether different idea and I have to write three or four pages of the proposed plot down immediately before I forget it, then I have to edit the three chapters I finished last week as I felt in the mood for it.  That is the life of a writer – me!

A majority of my work will never see the light of day because I worry about its content.  Is it too violent?  Are the sexual scenes too graphic?  Is this touching a socially taboo area?  But I don’t stop writing them because it is a part of who I am, but it does mean that the public will never get the full and raw me and I don’t think that society ever does get that from any author anyway.

People who don’t write don’t understand that there is much more to writing than that and for a lot of people who do write, it is never about the money and it is never about the fame.  Take me for example; what spurs me on to write?  Originally what spurred me onto writing was the fact I enjoyed it too much not to do it – the second reason was that I hoped my stories would become movies.  I really do still hope for the latter.  But it is not a realistic dream yet.

I don’t intend to be a scriptwriter, which makes it all the more difficult.  I don’t like the idea of my privacy being invaded when I am out shopping as I can often suffer from anxieties in new places and having a famous face someday will just add to the stress for me.  But despite this, I love people and making them happy.  I wouldn’t be human if I said, I don’t want the money – but being rich from writing is also not realistic.

Which begs a question as to why I do it then?

I do it for the love of writing and the love of play.  I am a very playful and imaginative person who constantly lives in hope that there is always something better than this.  I believe if you don’t like to play and you find writing hard work and you want the money and the fame and you don’t believe there is something better than this then you are wasting your time.

I love entertaining people, I love being a hostess, I love sharing ideas with people, I am very much a people person by my very nature.  I have often thought about becoming a life coach or a creativity coach as a lot of people who know me describe me as a very motivating bubbly and uplifting person.  I don’t see why though.  Because to me I am a very pragmatic and often sharp person with people, particularly those I find who are ignorant and arrogant or both. 

Despite dreading fame for the having my face noticed in public and despite the fact that becoming famous through writing is probably a pipe dream, I do still fantasize about how happy I would be seeing how happy and excited strangers will be whenever they see me around.  But it scares me witless too, what lengths would some people go to in order to be near me?  It terrifies me.  But I am more than happy to be polite and friendly to any who come near and by me, entertain them as much as I can but I would just want to get on with my life, do the shopping, and spend time with my family out and about without such concerns.  I suppose I get the fear of the behaviour of fans from my mother, because my mother is the sort of fan who screams and charges at celebrities whenever she sees them – I couldn’t cope with that as I am a naturally jumpy person.

So instead of worrying about the good and the bad, I have decided to just let life happen to me.  If the universe thinks I should have that kind of life, let it happen and hope it’s all good.  Maybe I will somehow be protected from all that fuss – who knows?  All I want to do is write, entertain and have my brain poured out onto the TV screen eventually as good movies.  That’s all I really want.  If I was rich enough I would probably produce movies instead of books, not that it would be any faster quite the contrary, but the notion of working with a large team of people playing with the same dream would be absolutely fantastic.

Besides, with the people I am related to, doing this is in my blood by all accounts and I should fine fitting in with playful, imaginative people in that setting like a glove.  Let’s hope gran was right. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Inktober Day 12 – The Kappa

The Kappa – Yokai of Japan

Today’s Inktober is based on a Japanese demon known as The Kappa part of the Yokai demons, he lives in embodiments of water, rivers, lakes and ponds.

Kappas are renowned for their obsession and passion for cucumbers and therefore locals often give offerings of cucumbers at festivals to the kappa’s to keep them from becoming harmful to the villagers.

Kappas have a naturally forming dip at the top of their heads which constantly hold water, if the water was to be accidentally spilled out, the kappa can become extremely weak or die.  It is said, if you are by an embodiment of water and you see a large aquatic humanoid which represents a human, frog and tortoise mixed together, sometimes they may seem like half duck and turtle that is a kappa and that if you do not have a cucumber to hand, this creature will either rape you anally and steal a part of your soul or tear your limbs apart as their second favourite form of food; So what do you do to ensure you are safe from this creature if you can’t give it an offering – you bow, these creatures are awfully polite and will bow back at you, spilling the water from their heads and rendering them helpless until they can top the water back up in its head giving you enough time to scarper!  Despite how evil all of this sounds, it is also thought that Kappas aren’t always malevolent, in fact often times they can be benevolent and help people who go fishing, particularly if they have been appeased with a cucumber or two.

In old Tokyo many people believed that if you ate cucumbers before going fishing you could prevent an attack, but then this act was banned by law because it was seen to be provoking the kappas to attack all the more!

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Cultural Stuff, My art, Myths & Legends

Snippet 2016 = 1

Relaxed, lounging on the cream velvet chaise lounge dressed in a gold silk dress she smoked from her cigarette extension listening to adagio for strings on full volume, watching the city below her closing down for the night.

Her man, not far from her was helping himself to another glass of whiskey quietly and thoughtfully.

Years has past she thought to herself, years they have seen mortals below them come and go in their petty little lives, lives that they needed and not any of them ever questioned how long they’ve stayed in the area and how they’ve never changed, not even a spot.

Funny creatures she thought to herself.

Such potential though, their talents are wasted on their greed and their dramas, if only they knew.

Finally she broke the silence.

“Are you hunting tonight darling”? She said to the man behind her.

“I hadn’t thought of it, why are you hungry then my dear”?  He enquired.

Now I understand that this snippet is full of adverbs and mistakes, but this is what I do when I am between writing actual stories.  I just sit and I write random stuff and the most frustrating thing is that on Facebook I have many friends who are writers and I ask them questions like “do you do this too”?  They never answer me.  So am I alone in how I write?  Or do all writers sit down with a plan?

Also understand that this is a first draft and is not part of a planned story, it was just something I wanted to get out of my head and I couldn’t go any further with.

 

 

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dragon starseed

I come from dragon stock, though we’re misunderstood

I came to earth for protection in my childhood

Someday I know I’ll leave this place

But I’d rather it be now

For humans are not friendly to those with claws and tails

I come from dragon stock, we are very friendly

But humans they won’t believe it, they shout and attack us in frenzy

I don’t know why they do it

I do not understand

But there is something quite wrong, with the ways and thoughts of man

I hope the Sirians are successful in teaching them a new way

But right now I’m stuck here and I am counting off the days

I come from dragon stock, but don’t believe the lies

I am not here to control you in a devilish guise

I am here for sanctuary, I am here in peace

I want to try and fit in, may your discrimination cease

I am from dragon stock; I’ll be here for a while

For I cannot go back home for there’s a war that’s quite vile

I am just a hatchling, I am just a babe

I am here for protection, not for humans to enslave

I am from dragon stock and here now ends my tale

I am waiting for acceptance, but so far you’ve all failed

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Poems D - F

human mask

They are whispering cryptic messages in my ear

They tell me of promises

I treasure their words and I hold them dear

But are they real?  I am insane, I fear

 

I’m growing into something different

Something not of this world

I’ve never been human they say

Slowly their secrets unfurl

 

The unfurling isn’t quick enough

I feel I’m quite unique

But unless I’ve found the proof about it

My futures looking bleak

 

What am I?  I whisper back to them

But they do not yet reply

They just tell me of the things I’m to do right here

Their evasiveness makes me cry

 

I’m living in two different worlds

Yet I am trapped in one

Confused of what’s real or not

This isn’t at all fun

 

How I wonder if I’ll die in this shell or not?

How often I sit back and think if all this knowledge is rot

Do I have a magic self, that’s hiding in mortal light?

Or am I suffering from madness, a devil’s toy and delight?

 

Maybe I won’t ever know

Maybe I’ll be forgotten

But if all these things are not really real

Then that is flaming rotten

 

I don’t feel at home here on earth, not at all

I need to go home to the place I belong

And then I will feel tall

 

I need this magic to stay alive, I need that very life

For I cannot cope living within in a mask, my fake human life causes me strife

And the reality of madness cuts into me like several knives

I need my magic life

 

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Filed under Poems G - I

Legend of the gargoyle

There was once an ancient legend in our land, that deemed that no heart should be broken by man, for if he did a spell be cast, that this wretched human to stone be cast, to exist as a gargoyle upon the walls of Snell, our beloved fortress we love so well.

It is said in the dead of night a fair young maiden received this plight, a young stranger came to our land and made a promise to this maiden’s hand, a ring he bestowed upon her finger but the little louse he did not linger.

But before the gates had time to open the spell was cast and his image broken, with a contorted grin and piercing eyes, claw like nails he’ll be despised.  A memory of a loveless night, revenge is sweet and it served him right.

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Filed under Poems J - L, Short Stories