tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41405795688406862392024-03-06T04:54:02.658+00:00bumble fingersRabid rantings of a seriously unhinged woman who may or may not be suitably in charge of her young children; may or may not be attempting to be a serious writer; is definitely not in control of her tumbledown house or her expanding waistline. Sanity and set dinnertimes always in question.Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-43909135735898267832018-04-30T05:32:00.001+01:002018-04-30T05:32:50.585+01:00The Unshared Lemonade<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">There are a thousand small moments that collect, over time,
into the strange cobbled together patchwork that makes up our lives. Layers of
jewel toned memories are blended with dull grey regrets, blinding bright
flashes of regrettable anger, or the soft black sorrows of neglect. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I am fifty-four. I tell you this not to boast or complain
(although, truth be told, I want to kiss my mother almost daily for blessing me
with some hidden genetic code which, at twenty-five, had me lamenting the fact
that people thought I was still in high school, but now has them often pegging
me easily for ten years younger) The reason I tell you this to show how minor
incidents, recorded in some moth eaten corner of our minds, can stick with us
for years, and inform a major pillar of our personal mission statement as an
adult. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The incident I speak of is the dull grey regret of an eleven-year-old
girl who was too hesitant to act on the idea of a good deed that sprouted in
her mind, and who as a (shudder) middle aged woman, still to this day remembers
her inaction and regrets it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Forty-three years haven’t changed that feeling. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I grew up in
upstate NY, in a town of about 6,000 people. It was and still is, pretty, leafy
and oh, so pedestrian to the kids growing up there. Straddling the mid-point
between two much larger cities, it was a nebulous, middle of nowhere
nothingness. A place at even aged eleven, I despised and longed to be free of.
When I go back now on the odd occasion, the entire place always seems coated in
a faint film of grime and decay.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">In this town, we lived in an extraordinary, beautiful house.
It was easily 2500 square feet, built in the 1850’s and just stunning in it’s
beautiful, wood turned open plan doorways, ornate stair case and beautiful
hearth. But my favorite place in the entire house was the front porch. Wrapping
around the house in a deep L-shape, it faced Rt 14 on one side, and our local
doctor’s office on the other. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">As a kid, it never occurred to me to be grateful for the
beautiful Upstate NY summers. From early May they were sticky with humidity,
hot and sometimes so rainy that we were trapped indoors for days. After frying
you alive in August, they often dragged out until the end of September, and
there were a few occasions where it was still warm enough to trick or treat in
our t-shirt sleeves. I live in the Northwest of England now, and although the
seasons follow the same calendar as NY, there’s not nearly the extremes here.
Very little snow falls, and summers are disappointingly mild, more like a wet,
clinging NY springtime. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The combination of a brutal NY August, and my lovely front
porch are the launching point for this story. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The North-western English, I am sad to report, don’t drink
much lemonade as the Americans know it. Here, if you say the term lemonade,
they give you fizzy lemon soda similar to 7-Up. So, at the start of every
English summer, if we are lucky to have one, I treat my children to pitchers
and pitchers of American style lemonade and remember my eleven-year-old self. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The day in question was panning out to be one of those
scorchers that are so hot, that it actually hurts a little to breathe. The sun
had already fried any energy from me, and I’d retreated, as I often did, to the
shade of the porch with a good book and a pitcher of cool lemonade. Years
earlier, my mother had brought home an enormous glider seat. It weighed more
than me, the metal was pitted, the dark green paint faded, but the cushions
were deep, overstuffed and pillowy. My brother and I would often take turns
over school holidays to sleep on the swing, the lullaby of its creaking springs
mixing with the traffic out on the highway to send us off to sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Next door to us, two houses had been torn down and a
doctor’s office had been erected out of pre-fab units, its parking lot blending
behind the building to connect with an old hospital on the opposite side of the
block from us. As I said the town was small, and as far as I knew at aged
eleven, it was probably the only doctor’s office there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Out into this sweltry, sweaty afternoon came a short,
elderly negro woman, stooped, swollen feet and ankles shoved into cheap plastic
shoes. Loud blouse, baggy, billowy skirts. She stood on the small access porch
of the doctor’s office, with a narrow awning to protect her from the sun,
waiting for someone to pick her up. There were no chairs or benches. It was
easily in the 90’s outside. I was lay in the shade rocking back and forth on
the glider. Cold drink in abundance. Comfort on tap. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And I saw her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">She waited.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And waited.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I drank.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I read.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I saw her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">As the minutes dragged, so did she. Her stoop became a
little more pronounced. She shuffled back and to on her swollen feet, dancing
around her discomfort. And eleven-year-old me saw all this. Forty-three years
later, I still wish I had acted on that impulse that came into my mind-the one
that said-I bet she is really hot. I bet she would appreciate a cool drink
while she waits. I have lemonade. I could bring her a drink. I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">should</i> bring her a drink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I can’t claim that my inaction was down to any shyness, to be honest.
Everyone who knows me will tell you that there isn’t a shy bone in my body. I
was then, and still am, awkwardly loud. Inappropriate. A bit of an attention
seeker. I start out with the best of intentions and still default to hog the
limelight and conversation, act less than ladylike.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I don’t know why I didn’t step up when the thought came to
me. But I let her stand out there for nearly a half an hour, then when her ride
arrived, and she was in the cool comfort of an air-conditioned Cadillac, I sat
and berated myself for not doing it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Forty-three years, people.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Standing about fifty yards away, I don’t know if she even
noticed me on the porch. But that isn’t the point. I noticed her and did
nothing, when it would have been almost effortless for me to ease her
discomfort a little bit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">But, as much as I still think on that moment now, I am happy
to say that that small incident has helped me to make changes in my behaviour
as an adult. I don’t step back when I see a need, I don’t wait for someone else
to resolve an issue if I can be of help. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I have become a doer. An annoyance. A bee in your bonnet,
because if I can be a doer, then I usually expect that you too can be a doer,
and I usually call you out on it. I hang out with other doers, other bees in
your bonnet types. And I get great satisfaction when we can help others. I
don’t do as much as some people I know, but I do as much as I’m able to, I
don’t sit idly looking on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I share the lemonade.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Be a doer, people. Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the
knees that give way. Definitely do it when it is easy for you to do so. Force
yourself to do it when it’s not easy, the stretch will grow and progress you as
a decent human in this difficult world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Share your lemonade.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-7288702861738348642018-02-05T20:12:00.003+00:002018-02-05T21:43:34.402+00:00Here we go again.......Hello to the New Year, new goals and all that rubbish everyone blithely abandons in a week or two from now....<br />
<br />
I used to love blogging but then became weirdly anxious about it. I felt this odd pressure to 'perform'. To produce SOMETHING. ANYTHING. So I fell out of love with it, and instead became angry (which I have realized at my semi-advanced age, is my go to response to feeling anxious-I get angry & lash out when I'm not actually angry at all, just nervous & a bit overwhelmed.) All this was completely started, traversed and finished inside that small space between my ears. None of it caused by, or even witnessed by, anyone else. It became yet another stone added to the weight of shit hanging around my neck and adding to my stress. So I stepped away. A small cloud of blackness cleared and I felt lighter, in at least that small respect.<br />
<br />
So I have decided not to perform. I have decided to blog when I have something to say, or something to show you. I crochet a lot. I make handbags. I 'art' a bit. And when I can't stop thinking about an idea, I write. So- here is a little story I recently wrote, and one of my most recent crochet projects.<br />
Enjoy<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiec3PiZ3AtmC-On0hX7GwVNW95jGUJoh9m-2Uzj3MyWX5ovP7cURGf-bWNSR7z1dO287mlyhyz9arwBSHmO2_qv8RV7H37gw77Nf8CK1QWO-d3wAtzRwfT6K0mv-LG9xgMO1nLoCXGh_Q/s1600/snowflake+large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiec3PiZ3AtmC-On0hX7GwVNW95jGUJoh9m-2Uzj3MyWX5ovP7cURGf-bWNSR7z1dO287mlyhyz9arwBSHmO2_qv8RV7H37gw77Nf8CK1QWO-d3wAtzRwfT6K0mv-LG9xgMO1nLoCXGh_Q/s320/snowflake+large.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i> <u>The Weight</u></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><u><br /></u></i></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><i>O</i></b></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><i>nce</i></b> there was a girl with a hole in her chest where her heart used to live. She was rather fond of the hole, left it bare and bleeding for every one to see, decorated it, put scaffolding up.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It wasn't long before spiders and caterpillars and dust bunnies gathered round the scaffolding. Soon the floor became swampy and spongelike, collecting the glittering diamond tears that fell after her heart went the way of all things that were long abandoned, eventually dissolving into nothing. People simply ignored the hole, same as lovers had ignored the heart that left it. It grew stinging nettles, poison ivy, became so clogged with weeds there wasn't room for anyone or anything else and it hurt to breathe, pinched and scratched when she tried to fit things in. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So she ripped out the parts that made her feel, the parts that were painful, and filled it instead with concrete and barbed wire, flushed out the last remaining diamond tears, and made it an altar of stone where no one could brush up against raw nerves.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Time passed and she no longer even noticed the stoop of her shoulders, the cramp in her back from the weight of the concrete, until come the day it occurred to her that she wanted to fly. Try as she might, the pull of earth on the concrete was too strong and she stayed grounded, dragging useless and unfulfilled in the gutter, scraping her concrete heart against the curb. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She picked at the edges of the wound, it tasted of caramel sauce, blood and regret. Examining it stung, every touch made her wince with self reproach. But she picked and picked until the mortar loosened, and the altar crumbled, and she kicked the weight from her chest. Her chest uncurled and opened like flowers blooming towards the sun. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Then the girl and her hole flew away where warm sweet breezes hummed softly as they blew through the ever decreasing crawlspace, and the spiders and dust bunnies packed up the scaffolding and went off in a huff, unable to bear the song that her heart sang as it regrew until the hole was no more.</span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-28066905251352980382016-07-24T23:00:00.000+01:002016-07-25T18:19:42.478+01:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkaAzmRt6cZs-JR5RlP7AbuIe5iPjw_0bC95BWBijgnSV7snESM-U4ijE9aqhcu35VHXuGU-mNzYb1efdLA39BHtE_gQMJZxvvatL8CPUL1F7uEKiYrKvpYYkDpQd5_305hgzhpzjatL4/s1600/Abandoned+Library+with+Trees+Inside.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkaAzmRt6cZs-JR5RlP7AbuIe5iPjw_0bC95BWBijgnSV7snESM-U4ijE9aqhcu35VHXuGU-mNzYb1efdLA39BHtE_gQMJZxvvatL8CPUL1F7uEKiYrKvpYYkDpQd5_305hgzhpzjatL4/s320/Abandoned+Library+with+Trees+Inside.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
(get me a bed and WiFi, I'm moving in)</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">so...PitchWars.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">so...the dreaded Mentee Bio</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">#PimpMyBio</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Ugh pull my teeth without anesthetic, please. I hate writing about myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">In no particular order (Yes, I watch too much X-factor)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">I
write because there is a whole village full of people (yes some of them
are the village idiots) living in my head and they are all crying out
for a day pass.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">I w<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">rite Young <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Adult and New <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Adult fiction, probably because in my head I am still 19 or 20. (I still listen to the music I listened to in college qui<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">te a b<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">it. <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Shout out to all the Cure <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">fans!) </span></span></span></span></span></span></span>My favourite characters are broken, tangled and feisty, just like my favourite friends. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I like to disappear into the woods near my house wi<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">th a fishi<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ng sto<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ol and my lapto<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">p. <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The smell of the trees an<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">d sounds of nature soothes my soul and feeds my imagination. Now if only my battery would be more cooperative!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Sometimes
I write until my elbows and knees and finger joints are throbbing
because I'm FEELING IT and I don't want to stop. Or sleep. Or feed my
husband and kids. Or talk to any real humans.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">I
love editing. To me that's where the real beauty and shine comes out in
my writing. First draft is an avalanche of 'get the hell out of my head
already!' Second, third, fourth drafts? ...that's where the magic
happens (harhar. Apologies to the husband who thinks it happens
somewhere else)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">After my first outing at NaNoWrimo in 2011 I co-founded (and still chair) a fantastic writers group full of
funny, supportive, wickedly talented people who I adore and never get to
spend enough time with.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">In
an ideal world Cinnabon, fruit, peanut butter and anything caramel
flavoured would constitute a highly nutritional brain feeding (and non
butt increasing) diet.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Weirdness, nerdy curiosity, and toddler like awe and wonder are my default modes.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">In
an alternate universe, I am a world renowned architect who creates
elegantly strange and heart stopping buildings. In this universe I am so
bad at math that anything I build would likely fall down around your
ears. Flatpack furniture included.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Wear protective headgear.</span>Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-15361927913420364802015-08-16T18:44:00.000+01:002015-08-16T18:47:09.932+01:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkaAzmRt6cZs-JR5RlP7AbuIe5iPjw_0bC95BWBijgnSV7snESM-U4ijE9aqhcu35VHXuGU-mNzYb1efdLA39BHtE_gQMJZxvvatL8CPUL1F7uEKiYrKvpYYkDpQd5_305hgzhpzjatL4/s1600/Abandoned+Library+with+Trees+Inside.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkaAzmRt6cZs-JR5RlP7AbuIe5iPjw_0bC95BWBijgnSV7snESM-U4ijE9aqhcu35VHXuGU-mNzYb1efdLA39BHtE_gQMJZxvvatL8CPUL1F7uEKiYrKvpYYkDpQd5_305hgzhpzjatL4/s320/Abandoned+Library+with+Trees+Inside.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
(get me a bed and WiFi, I'm moving in)</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">so...PitchWars.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">so...the dreaded Mentee Bio</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">#PimpMyBio</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">http://linkis.com/christopherkeelty.com/iOIyW</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ugh pull my teeth without anaesthetic, please.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">In no particular order (Yes, I watch too much X-factor)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I write because there is a whole village full of people (yes some of them are the village idiots) living in my head and they are all crying out for a day pass.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">In an ideal world Cinnabon, fruit. peanut butter and anything caramel flavoured would constitute a highly nutritional brain feeding (and non butt increasing) diet.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">My favourite characters are broken, tangled and feisty, just like my favourite friends. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Sometimes I write until my elbows and knees and finger joints are throbbing because I'm FEELING IT and I don't want to stop. Or sleep. Or feed my husband and kids. Or talk to any real humans.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I love editing. To me that's where the real beauty and shine comes out in my writing. First draft is an avalanche of 'get the hell out of my head already!' Second, third, fourth drafts? ...that's where the magic happens (harhar. Apologies to the husband who thinks it happens somewhere else)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Weirdness, nerdy curiosity, and toddler like awe and wonder are my default modes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">In 2011 I co-founded (and still chair) a fantastic writers group full of funny, supportive, wickedly talented people who I adore and never get to spend enough time with,</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">In an alternate universe, I am a world renowned architect who creates elegantly strange and heart stopping buildings. In this universe I am so bad at math that anything I build would likely fall down around your ears. Flatpack furniture included.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Wear protective headgear.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-18941908041262995942013-11-14T21:17:00.003+00:002013-11-14T21:17:23.220+00:00Gladitude Week Two!!!<div class="MsoNormal">
Woooo hooooo It’s week Two!!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s odd how you find what you’re looking for.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you’re looking for reasons to be miserable or
disappointed, you’ll find them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you’re looking for reasons to be grateful and find joy,
you’ll find them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lots of them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>Day Eigh</u>t</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today I’m grateful for <b>TEDtalks</b>! (<cite><span style="background: white; color: #00802a; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: normal; line-height: 115%;">www.<b>ted</b>.com/<b>talks</b></span></cite><span style="background: white; color: #666666; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">)</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you haven’t been introduced to the awesome world of
TEDtalks, you’re in for a great treat. TED is a non profit organisation
originally began with the aim to join communities of Technology, Entertainment
& Design (see what they did there?). Since its inception, the scope has
broadened to include so much more.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since developing MS, I am regularly forced to sit down &
shut up, to rest, to take it easy. Sometimes it’s really hard to read, and I’m
not a fan of daytime TV. TEDtalks are fabulous, informative, entertaining, and
VARIED. The speakers are leaders and innovators in science, education, music,
art, architecture, personal communications, business…you name it, TED’s got it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They have a website. They’re on YouTube. On Netflix. Go find
them. Go fill your head with wonder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>Day Nine</u></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today I’m excited that I’m<b> not a Victorian Woman</b>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is a weird one, eh? I was thinking today about how they
had to dress. All those layers & layers of clothes. Corsets. Tightness.
Restrictions. AGONY. As I write this I
am sat in a pair of sweat pants and one of my husband’s old fleece sweatshirts.
I could not possibly be in more comfy clothes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My wedding dress was made in 1901, at the very end of the
Victorian Era. I fell in love with it the first time I saw it & bought it
on layaway at a vintage clothing shop for $50 a month. It has a waist the size
of six year olds thigh. Yes, when I got married at 28, I was that small. I can
barely get my wrist in it now…All I can say is it was a beautiful blessing on
the day, and I’d never change my choice of dress, but how great is it that the
next day I was in a t-shirt and jeans…how great that I had a choice and didn’t
have to dress like that every day!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Day Ten</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today I am grateful for <b>dishwashers & washing machines
& tumble dryers. </b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Modern life is filled with many stressful things. I feel
really blessed for the appliances that take away most of the stress involved
with housework. Seriously. I know I moan a lot about it & in a perfect
world I wouldn’t have to do any at all, but it’s not as back breaking and time
consuming as it was in my grandmother’s youth. I have free time to write while
machines do the bulk of the work for me, and I feel so blessed for that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now….If I could find a machine that would pick up the dog
poop, my domestic blessings would be complete!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>Day 11</u></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wow. <b>Veterans’ Day.</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So many of my family and friends have served in the
military, a few are still serving in very dangerous places. I hate the fact
that we NEED the Armed Forces to protect us. Hate it that the world is the kind
of place where we only feel safe because we are bigger and badder than our
perceived enemies. BUT I respect and admire and appreciate so much the men and
women all over the world that are willing to undertake such a harrowing job,
willing to do a job that scares me silly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes, it is a job. Yes many of them choose that job. But it
doesn’t make them any less brave. Doesn’t negate the fact that they put
themselves in harm’s way so that WE don’t have to, and for the most part they
are paid crap to do it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Appreciate them, people. Support them. Show them your
gratitude.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>Day 12</u></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My boys. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When we got to the end of two years of marriage & still
had no kids, we went to the doctor. The news was bad. I took every test
offered, gave vials and vials of blood, took drugs, had operations. The doctors
weren’t hopeful, told me to concentrate on my career.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I used to come home from afternoons in town in hysterics
because I’d counted pregnant women, and undeserving women who were screaming
at their kids in the grocery store.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then a miracle happened. One of the operations worked. 5
years and 3 months after we got married our Jed was born. Three years later we
were shocked to find Morgan on his way with no medical intervention.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am not a natural mother. I am not nurturing and soft
hearted. I’m rough & tumble. Screechy. Defensive. Disorganised. Sometimes I
get put out about the work involved, I can be a bit selfish. There is
absolutely nothing like parenthood to show you just how immature, inept and
unprepared you are. It’s the best place to humble you, to knock the spikey
edges of pride off your ego. (Try being big headed and prideful when you’re
exhausted, five dress sizes bigger than you ever vowed to get, covered head to toe in vomit, and knee deep
in dirty laundry.)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These two boys have taught me more about tolerance,
patience, endurance, selflessness…and a million more things I very obviously
needed to learn. Things I am still learning on a daily basis. They are funny,
witty, creative, generous and amazing. It’s astounding that they’ve turned out
so well with me as their mother.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s kind of a miracle that they’ve made it so far in one
piece. Seriously. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And yep, when they were little, I was occasionally that
woman who shouted at my kids in the grocery store. We live and learn…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Day 13</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today I am thankful for <b>Autumn. </b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s been a long time coming to the UK this year. The leaves
are setting the roadside ablaze, today the weirdly warm temperatures nosedived.
Autumn is a mixed bag for me. I love the colours. Hate the death of summer. Hate
the slow inevitable slide into winter. Love Thanksgiving, love stodgy warm comfort
foods, nights curled up with a book. Hate waking up to the dark, having it dark
again before supper. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But we are all curled up watching a funny film together, we
have a warm home, food on the table. And though we are sliding on that soon to
be icy slope towards Winter, Winter always limps wetly into Spring and then
SUMMER. Life is good.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>Day 14</u></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>WRITERS GROUP!!!</b> Yess yessssss yes, I am so grateful for my
Writers Group.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Three years ago this month, I got brave and jumped on a
train on a nasty cold night after work and went into the heart of Manchester, by myself, to meet a bunch of complete strangers in a pub at Picadilly.
They were the riff raff that made up that years NaNoWriMo group from
Manchester. Everyone who knew me was shocked. The Husband called me about 20x
to make sure I hadn’t encountered any axe murderers along the way. I quickly
stopped shaking in my boots & had a grand time. AND best of all, I met a local
friend who agreed with me that we ought to start a local writers group after we
finished beating ourselves up over our NaNoNovels…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We did it. It was scary. We fell lucky on so many levels.
And I’ve made some uplifting, inspiring, lifelong friends along the way. We’ve
all written our fingers off, participated in local council arts programmes, run
workshops, laughed our heads off and had a blast.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I am so blessed to know each and every one of them.<o:p></o:p></div>
Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-73269783840317091022013-11-08T20:43:00.000+00:002013-11-08T20:43:56.362+00:00Do you have a BAD attitude or a GLAD attitude???<div class="MsoNormal">
You have two feet and one mouth. Dance more. Moan less.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Welcome to November. Welcome to falling leaves, wet sloppy
weather, plunging temperatures. Some people’s idea of sheer heaven.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Remember that when you’re freezing your outer & inner
& nether regions to bits….remember that to some people this is BLISS. Also
remember that as yucky as November is, it’s NOT February.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Even though I’m an ex-pat, even though I’ve lived in the
land of spotted dick and dodgy coalition governments for 22 years, I still
revere Thanksgiving as my favourite childhood holiday (after my own birthday of
course!). Starting today, in honour of all things turkey & family &
comforting, I am doing a daily gratitude blog to remind myself and anyone who
cares to join in, that there are MILLIONS of things to be grateful for.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u><b>DAY ONE:</b></u><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am grateful for <b>TECHNOLOGY! </b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I have Multiple Sclerosis & find it really
hard to hand write more than 30 or so words before it becomes painful and
illegible.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->My family & many friends live in the USA, I
live in the UK…skype, Facebook, e-mail….total Godsends. Total. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I am a writer (no duh!) and the process is so
much quicker/cheaper/easier now that submissions & researching & networking
are widely available online!!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Diagnosis and care of my MS has leapt into the
stratosphere with technological advances.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->5.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Downloading music online..***sigh*** …YouTube …yay!!
and and and…you get it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->6.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Kindle. I am a reading addict & have a
verrrrrrry small house. I still prefer hard copy, but what a blessing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->7.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Paperless society??? Well, not quite. Still, it’s
getting better all the time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Are
you grateful for technology? Why?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<b><u>DAY
TWO:</u></b> </div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
I
am grateful for <b>TEACHERS!</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I love to read. Love to read. LOVE to read. I learned HOW in school. I learned the WHY in school & at the feet of my dad.</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->History & other cultures are fascinating
& I learned to love them in AP European History in year 12. My teacher was
a dapper little man called Mr Gullo who used to be a Jesuit Priest & spoke
several languages. He would put his shiny little shoes on the desk and read
PRAVDA to us when we were 17 yrs old. He opened my eyes to a world outside of
my tiny, tiny rural upstate NY town.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Ted Spooner was my English Teacher when I was
14. One day he shut all the blinds, turned out all the lights, and crawled
under a thick blanket. Then he proceeded to read Ray Bradbury’s Kaleidoscope.
It made me shiver, made me feel claustrophobic, made me want to cry. But more
importantly, it made me WANT TO BE A WRITER.<i> That's</i> a great teacher.(does anyone have any idea where he is btw?)</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->My children go to a great high school. The
teachers are positive, fun, engaging. They make me wish I could do it all again
and go to THAT school.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->5.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I have a few family members and friends that are
teachers. Think about your kids on their WORST DAY. WORST, WORST, WORST day.
Multiply that by at least 20 kids. Every day. Interspersed by pockets of
willingness, engaged brains, delightful imagination. Just enough to make it
worthwhile. Now halve your pay. Halve your resources. Multiply your hours by
half or a third. Go.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
Be grateful for teachers!!! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<b><u>DAY
THREE:</u></b> </div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
I’m
grateful for<b> BOOKS!</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I literally could not tell you how much I love
to read. In an alternate universe I spend all day & night reading &
writing. Getting lost in the worlds
created by someone else’s imagination is such a great pleasure. Being
enlightened to new cultures and histories wakes up your brains, your heart,
your empathy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Reading teaches us to think, builds new neural
pathways in our brains, makes us wonder:
WHAT IF? HOW’S THAT EVEN POSSIBLE? WHAT WOULD I DO IF THAT WAS ME? HOW WOULD
I DO IT DIFFERENTLY? WHAT THE HELL WAS WRONG WITH THOSE PEOPLE? Or even better:
WOW! HOW BLOODY COOL WERE THOSE PEOPLE? All those thoughts are the beginnings
of something called CRITICAL THINKING. It’s needed in all areas of life, allows
us to evaluate and assess events and information and informs our ability to
make decisions. And you thought you were just reading about vampires…or spies….or real life famous shipwrecks (look up <a href="http://gillhoffs.wordpress.com/">http://gillhoffs.wordpress.com/</a><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">, her upcoming book about Victorian shipwrecks
off the Scottish coast will astound you. I have learned so much, honestly it opened
my eyes to matters of history covering class differences, sexism, health & safety…loads
of things!!)</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->This year I have discovered two authors
that have become fast favourites:
Patrick Ness and Erin Morgenstern. I read Ness’s The Knife of Never Letting Go
& its follow ups, The Ask and The Answer & Monsters of Men early this
year. I have badgered just about everyone I know to read them and the rest of his
catalog. The books are thoughtful, powerful, the best of YA writing. I
kind of love him quite a bit. Then, just
a few months ago my friend Zoe, who is the absolute best judge of books to
share, loaned me The Night Circus. I’ve read hundreds of books, people, several
of them debuts. Erin Morgenstern’s first book blew me away completely. Her command
of language is lyrical, to say the least. The book is magical, layered with lush
descriptions, mysterious characters, beautiful mystical settings. I could read
it over and over again. You should read it at least once. I almost cried when I
contacted her on Twitter and was informed that it would be ages before I could
expect anything more. But she has a pretty awesome blog as well…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
READ people. PLEASE read, it will
make so much of your life better. I promise.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<b><u>DAY
FOUR:</u></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Today
I’m grateful for <b>CREATIVITY!</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
I
feel really blessed by my own creativity, but even more by the creativity of
others. Art in almost any form. Beautiful architecture makes me weak at the knees.
Sculpture, paintings, music, landscape gardening, fashion designs, writing,
dance, engineering…it’s all art. It’s all creativity. It lifts me and it lifts
others. It inspires me, makes me wonder all sorts of things. How did they think
of that? Why did they use that particular form/material/word/colour? What were they thinking when they created it?
What did they think that I would think?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
But
most of all I love it when I see, hear, touch or read something and I think…OMG
I really want to meet this person. I want to learn at their feet. I want to
hang out with them. I want to bake banana bread for them. I want to be their
friend. You know why? Because they made
me FEEL something. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
That’s
what creativity is all about.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<b><u>DAY
FIVE:</u></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Ooooh
what are we grateful for today?<b> LANGUAGE</b>!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
I
am a word weirdo….I love the way they sound, the way they feel in my mouth when
I say them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Squish,
squelch, pummel.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Amanuensis
(no I’m not telling you, look it up)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Hiss<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Engorge<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Linger<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Prang<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Kibosh<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Ruminate<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
And
on and on and on…..<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Try
it. Open up a dictionary. Find words you don’t know. Roll them around in your
mouth, shout them around the house a few times.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Play
with them. Words are soooooo fun. I promise. They are. Go on, try it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
You’ll
be glad you did. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<b><u>DAY
SIX:</u></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<b>Plants</b>,
baby. Today I am grooving on the wonder and variety, beauty and usefulness of
plants. Plants feed us, they are a feast for our eyes, noses and fingers (have
you ever felt a Lamb’s Ear Plant? It’s a weenie little comfort blanket in pale
green. When I was a kid I sat on our front lawn gently rubbing it’s leaves
between my fingers in unashamed joy). They heal us through our eating of
them as well as their medicinal benefits (seriously, eat better and you’ll be shocked
what it does for your body.) Plants were here long before pharmaceuticals and
they were the way your grannie’s grannie treated her sick animals and her sick
children. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
This
TEDtalk discusses the surprising health benefits of introducing plants into a
work environment. In what was deemed a ‘sick building’ due to overall employee
health and days off work sick, scientists introduced 3 readily available house
plants throughout the space and reaped astonishing results. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmn7tjSNyAA">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmn7tjSNyAA</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
If
it can do that to an office building, just think about your home, your family’s
brains, their health.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Scientific
studies will tell you that a daily half an hour walking outside in nature will
go a long way to curing depression, in addition to the fact that added oxygen
levels improve thought processes, and the exercise will improve your health. The
beauty of a stand of woods, spring flowers, your neighbours vegetable garden…all
of it is a treat for the eyes and the soul.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Go
feed your soul. Breathe some healthy air. Appreciate the free beauty all around
you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<b><u>DAY
SEVEN:</u></b></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Today
I’m appreciating <b>Architecture!!!!</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
It
all started with Mrs Nixon’s house when I was growing up. She lived five houses
away from us in what I always thought of as the ‘mini-White House’. Her name wasn’t really Mrs Nixon, but I remember
when we used to go trick or treat to her house, on a stand in her hallway there
was a picture of her deceased husband shaking hands with Richard Nixon, so that’s
how I remember her. Her house had a sweeping porch, white pillars, was set way
off the road with Chesnut trees in the yard. Every year my mom had to crawl
under our front porch and dig baby chesnut trees out of the ground as we
gathered up garbage bags full of conkers in the Fall and threw them under the stairs. I
adored her house, at ten years old I coveted it in a major way. I used to dream
about the bedrooms, the sweeping stairways, wonder what her back yard looked
like.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
The
house I grew up in had 2 living rooms, a small library, a huge dining room, and
beautiful, fluted dark wood pillars separating the wide, open plan doorways. A carved, fruit and bird laden fireplace surround, bay windows, white
hydrangeas all down the side of the porch, lilac bushes lining the drive. It was
a gem. I still dream about it even though it was torn down years ago to make
way for a parking lot at the doctor’s office.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
In
Rochester, our nearest city, I nearly bust a vessel seeing the huge beautiful
homes on and near East Avenue, The George Eastman House, houses near Harley
Allendale school. The Mushroom House at Powder Mill park….I was an addict & spent hours driving around getting lost on purpose just to find another gem.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
In
college, I wanted to be an architect but had a fatal relationship with math, so
I studied Interior Design instead. I went to Chicago and toured every single
Frank Lloyd Wright building possible. I drooled. I coveted. Now I look online at
his Pennsylvania house, Falling Water repeatedly. In an alternate reality I am
an architect, and I’ve built a whole universe full of fantastic houses. Ask me,
I’ll let you stay in one if you like. (take off your shoes first)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Nearly
40 years later, I still feel my pulse race when I see a beautiful building, old
architecture or new, I appreciate it all. I fantasize about building my own
home someday. The play of light spilling down a stairwell, piercing a canopy of
trees just outside the living room window. A little nook where a clever book
case is built. An enormous expanse of windows that look out over a storm swept
lake. I watch Grand Designs. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
I
dream.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
I’m
glad I’m not a cave woman.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto;">
Thus endeth week one! Join me next Friday for week two!!!</div>
Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-37246371237725984262013-09-30T08:52:00.001+01:002013-09-30T08:52:07.659+01:00Bring on the Slings and Arrows<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not one for shouting about my political leanings. I’m an
American living in a European country. I can’t vote here because I haven’t
given up my US citizenship. I don’t vote in my home country as I have lived
here for 22 years and I don’t know enough about what’s going on over there to
make an informed decision. Both situations leave me frustrated. BUT I’m a bit
annoyed at the minute, a few raw nerves are starting to niggle at me and I need
to say something.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I LOVE the <b>N</b>ational <b>H</b>ealth <b>S</b>ervice. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love it AS IT IS, warts and all. And the thought of it
being mangled and destroyed, at the hands of politicians who are wealthy enough
to pay for private health care and don’t care about those who are not, angers
me. The fact that they freeze pay in the LOWER ranks of the NHS whilst higher
pay grades AND government officials continue to get pay rises, nearly turns me
into the Hulk, I get so angry. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s by no means perfect, but nothing in life is. I have
seen both sides of things, I grew up in a country where public health care was
sketchy and largely unavailable. I am the only one of my close friends or
childhood family to have moved here. I have a brother living in Pennsylvania who has epilepsy which developed
in his adulthood, and who spent years dangerously unwell as he kept running out
of money for doctors. Diagnosis was impossibly slow because he got shoved from
pillar to post and he kept having to start over again from scratch with new people
when his funds ran out. I know people who have cancer and have had to sell their
homes to pay for health care.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have no idea how Obamacare will work, if it will work. But
I think that the <i>idea</i> behind it is
sound, and necessary. It is closer to our British system of health care than
previous models used there. From many <i>outside
</i>observers point of view, just across the border, Canada has a successful
NHS. I’m sure in Canada, as in the UK, it has its own detractors, but public
health care CAN work. It has worked for many years.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am not a politician or an economist.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am a person who thinks that we as a people, be we British,
American or Swahili, have a God mandated duty of care for other people. We can
and should look after the weakest and poorest amongst us, which means equal
opportunity for legitimate, timely, affordable healthcare. If that means some
of the richest amongst us have to put our hands in our pockets to care for our
brothers and sisters, so be it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We are all so busy looking in mirrors that we can’t see the bigger
picture, or the person in the gutter three feet from us. The <b>Me First</b> attitude, the <b>Me</b>, <b>ME, ME</b>! mentality so pervasive in the world as a whole is a cancer
of it’s own, eating away at our ability to see the bigger picture, to
understand needs outside our own. It’s selfish and ugly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I read the first draft of this piece to my ENGLISH husband,
he reminded me of the quote inscribed on the bottom of the Statue of Liberty<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 13.5pt; margin-bottom: 11.25pt; mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="color: #181818; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt;">“Give me your
tired, your poor,<br />
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,<br />
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.<br />
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:<br />
I lift my lamp beside the golden door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 13.5pt; margin-bottom: 11.25pt; mso-outline-level: 1;">
Whatever happened to that attitude?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I repeat, I am not a politician or an economist.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What I am is a person who has seen both sides of the
situation; a person who suffers from a currently incurable illness which
regularly knocks me on my ass. A person who has been loved and cared for by our
FREE health care system. By nurses who are stretched to their limits by budget
cuts and staff cuts. I have received care & medication that in REAL TERMS I
could never afford on my budget because after years of working full time, my illness now prevents me from working. I
am that SPONGER that YOU are paying for. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How’s that sit with you?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know many people complain that FREE health care means that
people who are LAZY and unwilling to work get a free ride. That may be so. But the
physical numbers of people that fall into that category are far less than the
numbers of people who are legitimately
ill and unable to work, unemployed due to the recession, or on low wages. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
From my outside observance, one of the biggest complaints I see
about Obamacare is that people don’t want to spend their hard earned money
caring for those who can’t afford healthcare.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Grow up people. Any country and people who refuse to band together in support
of the weakest, the less fortunate among them is NOT a country based on love
and human kindness.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is a country that is headed for trouble. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love the NHS. And I think Obamacare, once the bugs are
worked out, will be a GOOD thing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Love each other. Put all the energy you direct at
complaining to good use. Make things better for EVERYONE not just yourself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s my political rant over.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bring on the slings and arrows.</div>
Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-68407173399853615842013-08-28T23:56:00.001+01:002013-08-28T23:56:18.243+01:00It Takes a Village Full of Kevlar....<div class="MsoNormal">
It takes an entire village to raise a child, so the saying
goes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’d amend that to say it takes a village full of Kevlar to
raise a teenage boy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I came to this conclusion last week whilst foraging for
blackberries by the river with my mate Gill Hoffs & her gorgeous little boy.
(<a href="http://gillhoffs.wordpress.com/">http://gillhoffs.wordpress.com/</a>).
Our day out came 2 days after I had gone through the most nerve wracking
morning of my life, and I was feeling quite reflective. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Last year, during my first year gathering blackberries, I did
a few things right, a few things wrong. I
wore long sleeves. GOOD. I didn't wear gloves. BAD. This year, I swapped that
around. I wore gloves and saved my manicure (a rare accomplishment for me, nice
nails). I forgot long sleeves. My arms looked like cat scratching poles. All
weekend, through jam making, smoothie making, freezing punnets for winter treats,
my skin stung, puckered, itched and bubbled from contact with nettles and berry
thorns. But….that jam is so divine it
was worth every ounce of pain and hassle. I might even go back in a few days
and get more berries, heaven knows there’s gallons more there. This time I'll wear long sleeves.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And so to Kevlar. I’m short. My 16yo son calls me a hobbit.
The whole time I was in those berry bushes, I just wanted to push in deeper,
climb up a bit higher, get every juicy berry I could see. I wanted Kevlar and a
stepladder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I was wishing for more protection on my arms, I was
thinking back to a few days previous. To Thursday. To the day when Mike and I,
along with other UK parents of 16 year olds, waited with a clenched fist of
dread in our stomachs, for the results of GCSE tests. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s been no secret to any one in my real life circle of
family and friends that raising our 16yo son has been a battle since day one. From
a very small age he has been an uncontrollable ball of energy, a screamer of
questions, a speeding rocket of dangerous inclinations. When he was 7 we were told
he had ADHD. Not great news since I have Multiple Sclerosis, and find many
things in life a challenge.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
School was a huge trauma. Not that he wasn't good, he was. He
saved all his acts of defiance and vandalism for home. At school he was sweet,
kind, goofy, charming. But he couldn't sit still, couldn't do quiet work. Couldn't
do homework. Couldn't stop distracting everyone else.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In primary school it wasn't too much of a problem as they
had a strict rota standardized across all years for English & Maths
homework. I always knew what was due and when. High school was a NIGHTMARE. We spent
years fighting with him and teachers trying to keep on top of assignments,
projects, trips, money due, evening programs. Simple things like remembering
his PE kit or food for cookery class were just beyond him. Each time he missed a homework assignment he
got a detention. Each time he got a detention, he was grounded. It got
to the point that family teased him and pointed to the grass & sky asking
him how long it had been since he’d seen them. Girlfriends threatened to dump
him because they never spent time together. We despaired because he wasn't
stupid. Far from it. He was blindingly intelligent. Just unfocused, dithery,
flighty. His grades never reflected how sharp he was. We were frustrated, and so
was he.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then this year, in his last year of school before he heads
off to college, he suddenly GOT IT. He
went crazy, astonished us all. When he walked out of the school hall waving his
results, when we saw THAT LOOK- that look of personal pride on his face, it was
worth all the battle scars. Worth all the tears (his & ours), worth all the
screaming and grounding and arguing. All the money spent on tutors. He got brilliant grades that finally were a true reflection of all the cleverness
hiding behind his disjointed struggling.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But looking back on it, I still wish I’d been better
prepared. I wish I’d had some sort of Kevlar, something to protect me a little from
the pain and stress of all the years that had gone before. Something to help me
deal with it better. I often worried that in my efforts to help his future, I was
permanently damaging our relationship. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Good Jam. Good kids. It takes some effort. But it’s worth
every bit of it. Especially when they have that look on their faces. That look
that says WOW, finally. <i>I feel like a
worthwhile person</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">That look that says that they found in themselves what you
knew was there all along.</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85YmWZqZVgje6Rxa1SPVYaGHUoIKulMwVq95-YmvdlgYdArO9OJ7Jgq6oDcOBo99v7VEwqBk2uCGS4qWSBniVnMNffzG276chsRCjiiULY73AOvwDHgzRrp9TeRh4_L8Me33_rb7SO_M/s1600/blackberries.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85YmWZqZVgje6Rxa1SPVYaGHUoIKulMwVq95-YmvdlgYdArO9OJ7Jgq6oDcOBo99v7VEwqBk2uCGS4qWSBniVnMNffzG276chsRCjiiULY73AOvwDHgzRrp9TeRh4_L8Me33_rb7SO_M/s320/blackberries.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Yummmm. Want some jam? Too bad, we're not sharing!<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_8Y3IxrW-TiWmKQnf8nOOHRja5T4iQBR5B6EAbgTkc0YxcyIRJdhDB7fMIVz0n6La3AarsoCgMJ9PeCZcOPUWpGUgBM4ZdEAfyxs2AfPmyLGkGusewN-bZQWRzDJ_Mj83ZkUCrG0Glbg/s1600/378c86afb2a0648da027f023ae814d32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_8Y3IxrW-TiWmKQnf8nOOHRja5T4iQBR5B6EAbgTkc0YxcyIRJdhDB7fMIVz0n6La3AarsoCgMJ9PeCZcOPUWpGUgBM4ZdEAfyxs2AfPmyLGkGusewN-bZQWRzDJ_Mj83ZkUCrG0Glbg/s1600/378c86afb2a0648da027f023ae814d32.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The boy with his guitar. He got a Distinction* in Performing Arts, an A in Music.</div>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rXyaOB95nN1m9O7lGz2cBDveCOX4UFNRSXwCcVA4iaOMPnuIyzJ-IC-_GELmuwhuRTbnqmQa-07LvN-HKFVD6_S_-gCnLiA5KKGrQvvS2Yznpg_Pz0VDUQTh2dDkN2Z-xG3Syl-_X3M/s1600/karl+pilko+shirt.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rXyaOB95nN1m9O7lGz2cBDveCOX4UFNRSXwCcVA4iaOMPnuIyzJ-IC-_GELmuwhuRTbnqmQa-07LvN-HKFVD6_S_-gCnLiA5KKGrQvvS2Yznpg_Pz0VDUQTh2dDkN2Z-xG3Syl-_X3M/s320/karl+pilko+shirt.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The reward for pulling his grade up in math from a fail to a
pass? A designer Karl Pilkington t-shirt.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Do I know how to score mum points or what?) (go on. ask me where you can get one, I know you want to! Tom Davies on twitter @1TD)<o:p></o:p></div>
Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-35744839213185150272013-08-01T15:48:00.002+01:002013-08-01T15:48:35.022+01:00COMMITTING WORDICIDE!<div class="MsoNormal">
So as you will note,
I haven’t blogged for nearly 3 months, although my lovely mate Kevin Bufton
stepped in for me in June.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Life got in the way & I had this tick list on my desk…and
well… THIS GIRL GOT BUSY!!!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-The back garden is completed. Stoned,
benched, planted, beautiful.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-There is now a pole and
blinds on my kitchen sliding glass door….we've only lived here 7 years!!!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-I joined the PTA at my kid’s high
school, I have the scary job of Secretary.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-I organised and attended a fabulous
writers day conference!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-I lost 7lbs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-I grew my hair out long, went
blonder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-Had clear outs and sent a million
and one bags to the charity shop.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-My oldest son finished high
school, receiving awards for Drama & Music. (very proud mum!) We are
waiting with baited breath to see his final grades.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-I developed the habit of walking every single
day even if it’s only around the block to flop exhausted on the couch. Sometimes
it’s MUCH further. It does wonders to clear the mind.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-I learned a little origami, read
a few books….and I managed to NOT write for a grand total of 6 weeks.</div>
<br /><div class="MsoNormal">
And…..drumrolllllllll…… <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I learned to LOVE editing!
(major hurdle leaped, believe me! Next one is synopsis writing!)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I never made it to my original goal of 4 months of not
writing. I realised only a few weeks into it that I couldn't bear it and it
took much less time for me to find my writing MOJO again. I ditched the project
that was making me so insanely unhappy, worked on editing something that’s been sat
completed on my hard drive but ignored for 3 yrs. Then, after I realised I
didn't really care too much for that one, I felt ready to tackle the one thing
that really needed priority. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The MS that I've had on sub for over a year</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This project, which has been a labour of love (in fits &
starts) for about 4 years, recently got 2 rejections. Happily for me they were
not form rejections, and both came after full requests. The people I subbed to
were very generous and gave extremely helpful comments that have guided my
edits.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<i><span style="background: white; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">*I can't tell you how long I spent considering this
manuscript. <span style="color: #c00000;">(a YEAR all together, actually) </span>I
do think you're almost there. I mostly found it a little difficult and jarring
with the multiple POV changes throughout the piece. I think you need to work to
make these feel a little bit more smooth.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<span style="background: white; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">*I think you've got a really lovely idea/world going on here.
Surprisingly, the only character I connected with was XXXX and I think the
reason comes down to story-craft: The other point of view characters tell us
most of the interesting stuff they have to say by way of remembering it, not
living it. XXXX's sections, on the other hand, are very much in the present,
seeing and interpreting the world around her rather than focusing on delivering
backstory. I wonder if it should start with the invasion, or if the timeline
doesn't need to change just that the characters should be more in the present,
allowing the details of the backstory to filter in much more gradually over the
course of the story. I don't have a good answer, but I know that while I liked
certain moments, it's not what I'm looking for as a whole.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">So, using those comments, I have gone crazy editing and have condensed my POV
characters down to the views of only 2 separate families, 5 people in total.
That’s down from regular contributions of those five plus frequent cameo
appearances of an additional 4 characters. By eliminating those four I have
lost some commentary I really loved, but kept closer to the story line, weeded
out extraneous scenes and a lot of self-indulgence. A work that I thought was
so READY has changed and developed. (And hopefully improved!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">In doing all this I discovered something about the
book as well. My target audience was wrong. I'd originally restrained
myself from including things I felt were important to the story in order to keep it YA
friendly. Some of that came back. <span style="color: #444444;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the edits, it also became clear that in losing all that
other stuff-Urgh... I had to ADD back 700 words – a whole scene- that I’d cut
in order to remain …a bit more delicate.
There goes all my hard work editing OUT things.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Honestly this word count is starting to fluctuate more
than my waistline.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Editing showed me that the book isn’t YA. It’s more brutal.
A bit sexier. A bit more grown up and
emotionally difficult. It fits much
better in a fresh classification that’s being bandied around and heralded as
the next great thing - NEW ADULT. It’s aimed at the after high school, maybe
college attending, pre mortgage age
group and it’s all about firsts in life: First job, first real love, first time
moving away from home & being responsible for yourself, first sex (if you
want to include that, but you don’t have to). So, NEW ADULT, Sci-fi Dystopian
is the jacket this baby will be wearing when I start to show it off to dinner guests
(after a few beta readers trash it first).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
During this process I have discovered a serious love of
EDITING. It scared me at first, but then it soon became a blood bath. It was as
if I had a dumpster parked outside my laptop and I was practicing bank shots, chucking
words at it left, right and center. I even coined a phrase for the brutality I
was treating my MS with:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #444444; font-family: Chiller; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">WORDICIDE</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #444444; font-family: Chiller; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am the destroyer of adjectives. The eliminator of
repetition. The hacker of overblown prose.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Adding those 700 words back has seriously impacted all that
effort, but…it was needed. The shaving and scooping isn't done yet. I'm just hoping it isn't too long before I
get to a static place, a rather <i>smaller,
more perfect version </i>of what I started out with. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
A bit like the same wish I have for my poor waistline.<span style="background: white; color: #444444; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-37604735271889440332013-06-21T09:00:00.001+01:002013-06-21T09:00:58.348+01:00Happiness & CAKE & Horror, OH MY! <div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif;">Today I'm
pleased to let my writing friend KEVIN BUFTON take the reins on the SPARKLY HAPPINESS
PROJECT. Kevin's horror novella CAKE (yep, I said HORROR) was released earlier
this week and he's kindly agreed to blogpost for me.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif;">It wasn't easy. He
writes scary, </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif;">squishy stuff, and well, you know what we're all about
on my blog. Happiness. Positivity. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif;">So I gave him a bit of a challenge, you could say!</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif;">Links to the book are below, get one and have a read. You'll
be glad you did. Or scared.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif;">Which is just as good.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><u>HAPPINESS<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
Hello, and
welcome to the fourth stop on my <b><i>Piece of Cake Blog Tour</i></b>. I’d like to
thank Joanna, for allowing me space on her blog to promote my debut novella, <i>Cake</i>, which was released on Monday.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
At each stop
along this tour, I have asked my respective hosts to provide me with a theme,
on which to pen a few words, my reasoning being that coming up with half a
dozen disparate topics, whilst also attempting to whore my book for all it’s
worth, was too much like hard work. So, host’s prerogative, I thought.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
Which is why I
am sat here, in front of my laptop, writing about happiness. That’s right. I’m
a horror fan, and horror writer, weaned on Hammer and Universal films since I
was four years old, lover of all things macabre and gothic, blood-soaked and terror-filled,
and yet I find myself having to give serious consideration to that emotion that
is the very antithesis of all that dark goodness…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
…or is it?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
You see, when
I stop to consider what makes me happy – by which I mean that which <i>truly</i> make me happy, not something that staves
off the boredom for an hour or so – it becomes increasingly easy to understand
why I have made a home for myself in the horror genre.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
My wife and
our kids are my main source of happiness, and I don’t care if that sounds like
a stock response. Individually and as a team they have driven me up the wall,
but I love them so much, and the very thought of them makes me smile. As I
write these words, they follow a beautiful day spent walking along the Wirral seafront
for two and a half hours, just the four of us. My wife, our son and I pointing
out the shapes we could see in the clouds overhead, my little daughter dozing
contentedly in her pram – what more could a man ask for? Indeed, it occurred to
me that if neither of us needed to work for a living, there could be few
existences more sublime than being able to do this every day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
That was when
it struck me. Once you make your way past the shuffling undead, the eldritch
abominations, the flesh-tearing cryptids and the unspeakable sociopaths that
fill a great many of my stories, I'm really writing about families. Whether it
is the need to protect them, the agony of losing them, or the fear of never
seeing them again, family plays a huge part in my writing. They are my greatest
joy, and the thought that they might come to harm is the fuel that powers all
those dark thoughts that I put down on paper.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
On a practical
level, they are also what inspire me to write in the first place. The
possibility that one day, in the not too distant future, I might be able to
support my wife and kids solely through the nightmares I produce for other
people is a wonderful incentive, and by far the greatest remedy for writer’s
block that I have ever come across.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
My other
source of happiness is the act of writing itself – creating a world from
scratch, where forgotten evils lurk in dark corners, where unspeakable fiends
rend flesh and crush bone, and where the dead walk. It is an incomparable
feeling. I've never taken hard drugs, but I can’t imagine anything matching the
buzz that comes when, halfway through a piece, something just clicks and you
realise that – YES – this story is actually going to work!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
At the moment,
I am writing around my family and my day job; tapping away at my trusty laptop
into the wee hours most nights, but it’s not a chore. I don’t find myself
dreading the blank page, or fretting over finding the right word for the scene
I am attempting to convey. On the contrary, I normally only stop writing
because I'm conscious that I have to go to work in the morning. I'm wide awake,
and a bundle of creativity, until I close the lid on my computer, and only then
will my mind and body take the hint that maybe a few hours’ sleep are in order.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
Horror makes
me happy. That might seem an odd thing to say, but it’s true. Whether I'm writing it, reading it or watching it, a good horror tale will make me smile,
even as it makes me shudder. Horror is a powerful emotion, and, though it’s
easy to get it wrong, when you get it right, it can affect you in ways that no other
emotion can. Fear is what makes us keep the light on, because we don’t know
what’s waiting for us in the dark; terror is what makes us look over our
shoulder if we’re walking home alone and notice a sound on the very edge of
hearing. It may seem, to some, to be a rather base emotion, and an unsavoury
thing from which to derive pleasure, but it is universal to us all.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
So, I am happy
with my family, I’m happy when I write, and I am happy whilst being horrified.
To tie all of this together, I'm happy when something I have written gets read
by someone else. It is what makes writers become writers in the first place –
telling a story, and having somebody take something from it, is one of the
greatest pleasures known to man. Seeing someone reading a copy of your book;
reading a review by someone who has enjoyed it (or not – bad reviews are fine
too, so long as you learn something from them); having someone e-mail you, or
Tweet you to let you know they appreciate what you've done – these are truly
life-affirming experiences. After all, a story that sits there with nobody to
read it, might as well be used as kindling. Stories are vibrant things that
yearn to be read, to be told, and to be passed on to the next willing
recipient.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
So go ahead –
pick up a copy of <i>Cake</i>. Read it,
enjoy it, and tell me what you think of it – good or bad. If you like it, let
somebody else know either by word of mouth, or by leaving a review on Amazon or
Goodreads.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
These are the
things that make me happy, and it is my honest wish that my writing will become
one of yours.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
CAKE is available here:</div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 11.333333015441895px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 11.333333015441895px;">Paperback (UK):</span><a class="_553k" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1484887018" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 11.333333015441895px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1484887018</a><br />
<br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 11.333333015441895px;">Paperback (US):</span><a class="_553k" href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.amazon.com%2Fdp%2F1484887018&h=RAQHuyYbr" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 11.333333015441895px;" target="_blank">http://www.amazon.com/dp/1484887018</a><br />
<br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 11.333333015441895px;">Kindle (UK):</span><a class="_553k" href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00DI72JBU" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 11.333333015441895px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00DI72JBU</a><br />
<br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 11.333333015441895px;">Kindle (US): </span><a class="_553k" href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DI72JBU" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.333333015441895px; line-height: 11.333333015441895px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DI72JBU</a>Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-69493507654028161592013-05-05T19:48:00.000+01:002013-05-05T19:48:18.740+01:00SPARKLY HAPPINESS PROJECT DAY 5!!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So…It’s the fifth day of <span style="font-family: Jokerman; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The Sparkly Happiness Project.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Jokerman; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How’s your week been?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For me, it’s been a week of opposites.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Great days full of huge strides. Jobs done galore. Attitude
happy. No sweary words out of my less than ladylike lips. Husband choosing to
exercise (we’ve been after him for health reasons for quite a while) <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Grumpy days. (for instance this afternoon I went off on a
verbal bender and lost it big time with my family. Not so successful a day.
Luckily it’s still EARLY days.)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
BUT: One of my overriding feelings this week has been one of
gratitude.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you are miserable, stop looking inward, start looking
outward. <i><span style="font-family: "Inkpen2 Script"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">EVERYTHING,
</span></i>and I literally mean <b>everything</b>, is relative.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yep. There are people
whose homes feature on Cribs. They have six cars, holiday abroad constantly, their clothes closets are bigger than my whole
house. People who have more money than sense or taste and couldn’t you just put
that to better use than they do?….blah BLAH <span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">blah.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are also
children who dig pieces of plastic out of shit infested dumps in India for 12
hours a day, barefoot with no gloves on, just to make enough money to live in a
one room shack with a dirt floor and their 17 brothers and sisters sharing the
same bed in shifts.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My health isn’t
great and it limits me in unpredictable ways. That probably fits some of you as
well. But I know several people (more than I care to admit) who have cancer. They
are DYING, some of them quite young. What right do I have to complain when I am
so blessed?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If most of our
waking thoughts are WHY ME? POOR ME? THE WORLD OWES ME XYZ (fill in as you
like)…I will guarantee that only one thing will come out of it:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Bodoni MT Black","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">YOU WILL NEVER BE
HAPPY. NOT EVER.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Bodoni MT Black","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most of you reading
this will be nowhere close to either end of the spectrum. You will be blessed
with enough to meet your needs, even if you only manage monthly with one thin
dime left over and not much fun between pay days. Some of you will have much
more.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But think about
it. In all honesty, most of us spend money we don’t have to buy things we don’t
need, to impress people we don’t really care about. Many of our stressors are
of our own making.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of the
biggest challenges of our generation is to learn how to become<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">HAPPY
WITH WHAT WE HAVE</span></b>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Life could be
much simpler, our problems halved, if we worried more about what we DO to
IMPROVE the lives of others (and NOT necessarily in material matters), and LESS
about what we HAVE.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not
suggesting in any way that it’s wrong to strive to improve yourself or your
lot, in educational & financial terms, because this whole project is about
becoming more fulfilled on a personal level. But it’s <span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">how we define personal fulfilment</span> and what we do to achieve that that
matters most. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni;">Right
now is the OLDEST you have ever been, and the YOUNGEST you will ever be.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What are you
spending your time and energy and life on? Getting or giving?<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">William James said:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">The greatest discovery of my generation is
that a human being can alter his life by altering his attitudes.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: "Bodoni MT Black","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">HE WAS TALKING
ABOUT YOU. (</span></b><span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: "Bodoni MT Black","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">and me)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: "Bodoni MT Black","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Stop
looking in the mirror and under the microscope, examining every little minute
reason you have to be unhappy. Start looking out at the world and thinking
about all the positive ripples you could make in the lives of others around you.
Start with the people under your roof, in your neighbourhood, start anywhere.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">JUST START.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">It is my goal to perform one <b>OUT OF MY COMFORT ZONE </b>act
of service for another person each week. I want this to cover my 4 month
project, but I can guarantee something.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">It’s just as easy to develop GOOD HABITS as it is bad
ones. All it takes is dedication. If you put the same amount of time into it,
it’s yours. I expect that at the end of the 4 months I might be addicted to the warm fuzzy feeling that performing service for others can bring.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">What are you dedicating your energy to?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Who’s with me? If you need some inspiration, watch the
film PAY IT FORWARD. Bring tissues.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">So, go forth, multiply.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>good works!!!!!</i></b></span>…I meant MULTIPLY GOOD WORKS!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>now get outta here. go make someone smile.</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>you'll be glad you did.</b></span></div>
Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-55598239771573344712013-05-01T17:01:00.000+01:002013-05-01T17:01:07.397+01:00SPARKLY HAPPINESS PROJECT DAY ONE!!!!<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
<o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
So…here we are. DAY ONE of <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: Jokerman;">THE
SPARKLY <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>HAPPINESS PROJECT</span>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
(are any of you joining me??? C’mon you know you want to!)<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
In preparation for today I have done a little soul
scratching and self-analysis. I have shortened the lists of things that are
driving me crazy about life, myself & the universe, and the list of things
that make me happy. And I have a game plan for the next four months.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
We’ll have to have a <span style="font-family: "Inkpen2 Script"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">suck it and see</span> approach,
I guess. None of this is guaranteed to soak up this festering pit of gloom in
my stomach, but as stated in last blog…I AM A PROACTIVE person, so here’s to a
gallon of proactive with my slice of cake.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<u>Things that bring the SMILE factor back:<o:p></o:p></u></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Being organised. This is a sore point for me as
I’m into the red zone when it comes to Adult ADHD, and am about as organised as
a troupe of drunken monkeys on a day trip to a disco. Hence constant
frustration with myself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Having fun time with my kids & husband &
friends.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Attending church & serving other people.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Being a creative person.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Eating healthy & sleeping enough. Exercising
when possible (grr…MS!)<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
I know that seems a short list, but that is what all the
nonsense, noise and bother boils down to in its simplest forms. Everything
great usually falls into one or more categories of the above points.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<o:p> </o:p><u>Things that cause gathering storm clouds: </u><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 37.8pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Disorganisation, clutter, procrastination.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 37.8pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Kids & adults constantly picking at each
other, grumbling over nothing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 37.8pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Overtiredness and or poor health.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 37.8pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Aggravation with other people’s poor (IMO)
choices.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 37.8pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Wasting time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
Again, it all boils down to those things in simplest form.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
Some of those things I realise I have no control over…which
is an issue that I will be working on.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
A few things I have done or am started just in the last week:</div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Put a sock bag on the door knob in the upstairs
hall. We never have enough clean MATED socks. It’s that bad that I have an odd
sock basket which I’ve nicknamed the Pit of Eternal Despair. It’s full to the
top and seething with snakeloads of unmatched socks. Now all dirty socks (&
undies) go straight into this new bag and I don’t have to chase them as much. It’s
only been about a week, but so far, successful. Small thing, I know, but small
things often fix big stressors.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Made a list of all unfinished jobs in the house
that are making me crazy, and figured out which ones I can do without help from
taller or stronger people. I will systematically whittle at this list over the summer.
Starting with stripping the turf on the only remaining<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>patch of grass in the back yard, so that my
son can wheel barrow bucket loads of decorative Yorkshire stones to cover it
and we can put pots and a bench on it! No more mowing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Organised some service opportunities to get me
out of the ME ME ME rut I’ve been in.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Booked the dog groomer for our furball of a
Border Collie. (less hair =less housework!)<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt;">
So, there we have it. Day One. Only 122
days to go!!<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 36pt;">
Can I go back to bed yet?<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></o:p> </span>Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-66531228789765633742013-04-25T10:42:00.000+01:002013-04-25T10:45:43.596+01:00Sparkly Happiness Project!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif; font-size: x-large; line-height: 115%;">I got punched in the face this past week with a rather unpleasant
truth: I AM A BITCH.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Let’s clarify: I am a Bitch on STEDS, riding
a flaming motorbike from the gates of hell, flinging dollops of steaming poo
and bad attitude in my wake.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">My mate Keith, father of 7 and a social
worker, calls it Releasing the Beast. And boy have I been letting her out of the
cage a lot. Giving in to frustration & anger & venting to such an
unproductive level that I can’t reign in back in and I just rile up everyone
around me. Kind of like Sully seeing himself scaring Boo on Monsters Inc. Only </span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">I've</span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"> had it on a repeating loop for ages. Not a pretty site.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">But I can also be sweetness and light &
am considered an optimistic person. I have Wikipedia sized volumes detailing
the trials and ordeals </span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">I've</span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"> got thru with a smile on my face and an annoyingly cheerful
song in my heart. Somewhere, in the last year or so, that got lost, under an
avalanche of crap.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Turning 49 a few weeks ago shook me up a bit.
(yes my profile picture is OLD- 3yrs to be precise.) I had one of those
boringly typical middle aged OMG moments thinking- do I want to wake up and be
THIS person on my 50<sup>th</sup> birthday? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The answer was a resounding NO.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">So the question became WHY? What the hell has
been going on with me? Inner conflict and
a general festering frustration & unhappiness, that’s what. For a long time
now </span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">I've</span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"> had on this shiny pink mask of optimism that’s hidden a toxic pond of
procrastination, pointless anger and foot stamping.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">NO MORE. I am also usually </span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">PROACTIVE. That’s
where the feelings of conflict have come in. </span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">I've</span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"> been stuck in avoidance,
denial and procrastination. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">That = BITCHINESS!!!!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">So starting May 1</span><sup style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">st</sup><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">I'm</span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"> on a
mission, embarking on a </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Jokerman;">SPARKLY HAPPINESS PROJECT!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Jokerman;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Not sparkly like team Edward at the beach. Or
a disco ball, or Lelly Kelly shoes. More like the sparkle of dew on the grass
on a peaceful cool spring morning. Birds chirping. Breeze ruffling the new
birth of leaves. Serene. Uplifting.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">To do this </span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">I've</span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"> made a list of 20 things: ten
that make me happy, ten that make me rage. I’m changing the focus of my time and
attention, pulling things back to a more balanced core. And I'm taking a sabbatical
from writing until September. I have one commissioned project to do, then it’s
quits. In all this hassle and aggro I’ve put myself in a place where I HATE
writing…the thing that I love best, one of the things that defines me. You know
you’re out of kilter when you hate the thing you love so much. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">So 4 months to do what, then? Stop
procrastinating a million things that have festered and niggled at the back of
my brain. Address some things that need changing in myself. Spend time with
hubs & kids. </span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">It'll</span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"> take some work & I'm gonna blog my progress, be accountable
to you all. Come along for the ride OR- even better yet, join me in a</span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Jokerman; mso-bidi-font-family: JasmineUPC;">SPARKLY HAPPINESS
PROJECT </span><span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;">of
your own.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We can be each other’s cheerleaders. I
promise not to fling poo.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: JasmineUPC, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Look for me here again on MAY 1<sup>st</sup>,
DAY ONE! </span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-60047155767358569802013-03-29T13:00:00.000+00:002013-03-29T13:00:09.852+00:00Pearls Before SwineIn honour of this Easter weekend, I thought I post my favourite short piece from my back catalogue. I was asked in 2011 to write a piece for the lovely Matt Potter at Pure Slush. If you don't know about this goldmine of gorgeousness, they are an Australian based online flash fiction site that also publishes hard copy theme based anthologies. Go have a sneaky peek at them here:<br />
<br />
http://pureslush.webs.com/<br />
<br />
Matt asked me to contribute a piece on the theme of Religion, up to 1000 words...I struggled. As many of you know, I'm a Christian, a member of the Mormon church. I didn't want my piece to be preachy. I just wanted it to be good writing. To this day I couldn't tell you where it came from, and it's still my favourite piece.<br />
<br />
Happy Easter.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><u><b>Pearls Before Swine</b></u> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> The
day had just begun when we found her. It
was barely light; Donnie was herding Baby and me to school. We were dragging
our feet, shoulders and ears hunched against the sharp crystal air. The ground was cold and hard from a late
spring thaw; deeper patches of snow still clung despite the warming days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> “What is it?” Baby whispered,
standing well away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> “It’s an angel,” I whispered
back, my fingers poking small wet flakes from her dark hair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> “That ain’t no angel,” Donnie
hissed. “Don’t touch her; you know what Dad says about strangers.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> “Strangers carry diseases.
Strangers can kill us.” Baby recited, sucking her thumb.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> Donnie dropped his school bag in
the snow. “Cassie, I’m going to get the horse. We’ll take her up to Old Winston.
She might be worth something to him. Maybe he’ll cut us a break.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> It didn’t take a genius to know
we’d had a bad season last year. Money
was tight, the rent was months overdue. Mother and Dad thought we couldn’t hear
when they sat over the kitchen table at night, counting out the pennies and
fretting, but we knew.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> Old Winston was our landlord. He
had the big farm house and hundreds of lush acres. We paid him four hundred a
month for a leaking, wind-rattled shack and twenty acres of the hardest soil in
the county. Father ploughed Winston’s land to earn steady money but it wasn’t a
lot, so we farmed our bit to make up the difference. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I didn’t like Old Winston. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">“Get lost, you skinny little bastards,” he’d grumble,
snatching the brown rent envelope from Baby’s hands, swinging at her ankles
with his walking stick. He wasn’t very quick and Baby was always off the porch
fast, laughing as the wind blew his curses across the fields after us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">On top of that, he never fixed anything on the house, even
when the roof fell in over the kitchen. He smelled of sweat and old pipe smoke
and dirty socks. And when Father was away at market he’d come round and touch
Mother’s hair and find excuses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> I stamped my cold feet, and blew
on my cramping fingers, staring at her as she lay on the hard ground in nothing
but a thin dress. “You
can’t do that,” I choked. “He’ll hurt
her, and you know it.”<span style="color: green;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> Donnie grabbed my wrist hard and
twisted. “What I know is mother’s got cancer, we got bills, and she’s going to Old
Winston.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> As soon as Donnie disappeared
down the hill, her eyes opened. They were the colour of dewdrops glinting on ferns
in the early light.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> “Hello, Angel,” Baby cooed,
handing her a boiled sweet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> “Thank you Baby. I love Lemon Drops.”
The Angel’s voice sounded like old church bells ringing on a faraway hill.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> “What’s your name? Are you really
an Angel?” I whispered, voice catching in my throat. She was glorious: her
eyes, her hair, her skin. They all had a glow that was nothing to do with the
frosty air. Every inch was beautiful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> “I’m <i>whatever</i> you need, Cassie. My name is Pearl. ”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> “Like from the ocean?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> “Maybe, Cassie. Maybe.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> She put her arms around the
horse’s neck and climbed on, Donnie still too skittish to touch her. I reached
up and held her hand as we walked, down the hill, across two fields. Just to
make a point.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> Old Winston grinned ear to ear,
the first smile I’d ever seen on him. He wrote Donnie a note, signed and dated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> </span><i><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">All debts forgiven.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"> Abram Winston.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> Pearl put her slender white hand
on his arm and smiled up at him. Underneath he added:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> </span><i><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">Plus two months’ rent free.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> Pearl touched his cheek. He
crumpled up the note and started over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> </span><i><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">All debts forgiven + three months’ rent free<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"> Abram Winston.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> Pearl
never uttered a single word, but her eyes said goodbye in a way that scared me. My heart shrank watching her beautiful pale
hand on his leathery wrist. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">“You can go now children,” Old Winston grunted, shutting the
door firm behind us. It was the first time he’d ever addressed us without
swearing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> “But he’ll…” I stood rooted to the porch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> “Forget about it, Cassie. Pearl
said she’s <i>whatever we need</i>. You told
me that yourself.” He shoved the note
under my nose. “What we need is THIS. She can take care of herself.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> Donnie pulled me off the wooden
porch and threw me up onto the horse behind Baby. I cried all the way home. I
cried all through dinner, never answering Mother’s questions. I cried at
bedtime prayers. Each tear sliced through me. <i>We left her there. We left her with him.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> Sometime that night, a fire
started in Old Winston’s house. His bedroom and the side porch blazed,
scorching the ground, turning the remaining snow into steaming puddles that
iced over into a smooth glassy sheet by morning. But for the smell of smoke,
the rest of the house stood firm, as if it never happened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> The bank manager came a month
later. Old Winston had no kin. The whole place, main house and shack, was ours
if we’d take over the mortgage payments. Old Winston was paying the bank a
hundred less a month than he’d been charging us just for the shack.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> That summer we started
rebuilding. With soot smear<a href="" name="_GoBack"></a>ed fingers, Baby and Donnie
unearthed hundreds of tiny glowing pearls from the rubble. I washed them
carefully, then put them in a jam jar on the kitchen table, kissing each one
before it landed, <i>plink plink plonk</i>,
in the bottom of the jar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-81154581159207738872013-03-16T15:04:00.001+00:002013-03-16T15:04:03.596+00:00Doing Stupid things for the fun of it.So, I entered an online pitch contest.<br />
<br />
Find it here: http://brenleedrake.blogspot.com/<br />
<br />
There are some great agents involved, and a boatload of hard work going into the process behind the scenes.<br />
<br />
Right here, in front of the scenes, on centre stage:<br />
<br />
Commence: -nail biting.<br />
-excessive refreshing of twitter feed.<br />
- repeated trawling of other entrants blogs<br />
to read their pitches & make myself feel inadequate<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
My book is already under consideration with a publishing house. I know it's a long involved process. I know it takes a village to raise a child, blah blah blah.... but apparently it takes a whole CONTINENT to say yes before you get a book deal.<br />
<br />
I have ADHD. So I am impatient. IMPATIENT, I tell you!!!!<br />
<br />
Recently I bit the proverbial bullet and shopped it to a few other people, which I should have done months ago, if I was smarter. All these things are solitary worries, things hidden with the dust bunnies and old birthday cards under my bed while I get on with life.<br />
<br />
Doing this pitch contest is a whole different animal. Suddenly I have been sucked into this warm huggy embracing writerly pit of angst.... we're ALLLLL stressing.<br />
<br />
Communally. So it ramps the anxiety up by INFINITY.<br />
<br />
Anyways. Here's the pitch. It's probably not half as interesting as this blogpost. Which is a pretty dire attitude to have, I know.<br />
<br />
Anyway. have at it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
TITLE: Blessing Hill<br />
GENRE: YA Sci-fi, spec-fic<br />
WORD COUNT: 100k (I know, shut up already)<br />
<br />
LOGLINE:<br />
<br />
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>After militant climate refugees invade their remote
island home, Azura and her friends must rise against their religiously
fanatical captors before their entire way of life is destroyed.</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">EXCERPT:</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">“Scripture! Repentance! Scripture!
Repentance!” A grating voice screeches
over the loudspeaker for the third time today. I barely flick an eyelid. Wiping
the sweat from my forehead onto my sleeve, I slowly turn the heat off under the
sauce. We never know how long a session will last and I’d rather not add burnt
sauce to my list of things to repent for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Lisa kneels beside me, smiling softly, pleased
for the break. I don’t know what she’s accused of, but this morning there was a
note on the board saying she was on solitary potato duty for the entire campus.
All day. All <i>twelve</i> hours of it.
We’ve only been here two hours and her hands are cramping, swollen and red raw.
Peeling potatoes for the entire campus is normally a three person, six hour
job. When I stand near her it’s hard not to wrinkle my nose, she’s already
starting to smell of them; mildew, stale, damp. To help her along, every time
our attendant Victory turns her back, one of us produces a peeler from our
pockets, skinning a few to add to the pile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Casting a disapproving eye around the room Victory
passes scripture to all the girls kneeling restlessly with us. Every time she
reaches towards one of us, her bobbed, dark hair sweeps across her cheek into
her eyes. She tucks it behind her ear repeatedly as she bends and straightens,
pulling books from the box.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My fingers stray to my own hair, pinned back tightly
to my head, as required.</span><br />
<br />Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-88835693490816008232013-03-01T12:05:00.001+00:002013-03-01T12:05:23.544+00:00Things What Stop Me Writing 1-2-3...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>THINGS WHAT STOP ME WRITING 1-2-3….</b></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
OMG screeching in frustration…see the date on this post?
Yeah, you guessed it. I totally fell down on the 2x a month blog posting goal fairly early on, now didn’t I??? Not a
peep in February.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And it’s not just my blog…it’s writing in general. What the heck
is wrecking the process???<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>What I want to accomplish VS What actually happens:<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->MILLIONNNNNNNNS of stories in my head bursting
to get out, like NOW, immediately, yesterday would have been great, thanks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
TRUTH: MILLIONNNNNNNNS of ideas duking it out for attention. Also dishes, laundry, children, piles of Border Collie hair. Until am actually getting paid for this ‘writing lark’ I must justify my existence by being a reasonably interested wife & mother & house slave. (read that as <b>I AM SO NOT INTERESTED</b>) (CORRECTION: not interested in house slave bit)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->TWO FREE HOURS TO WRITE, YIPPEE, LETS SMASH THAT WORD COUNT, BABY!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
TRUTH:
I so have ADHD (really I do, actually). OOOH I never really wrote that
yesterday, that’s crap! EDIT EDIT EDIT. The dog barks…..the wind blows….OHHH
look! Shiny Twitter..shiny, so shiny…..ARGH! Get to work, Girl!!! I type like an arthritic rhino with rubber mallets for fingers..smash smash, correct correct correct. Ohhhh, wonder who’s on FB?? Ohhh need to start a load of wash…What was that idea I had for another story yesterday? Hey! Where’d the time go? TWO HOURS???<b> I only wrote </b><b> 300 words??? ARGGGGGHHHHH.</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->YAY, IT’S TIME TO DO A BLOG POST!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
TRUTH: (wind whistles, tumbleweeds amble past)</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
What the hell happened to those millions of ideas duking it out in my head? They must have taken the fight outdoors, seen the sunshine and buggered off to the park to sunbathe…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->TWO FREE HOURS TO WRITE, YIPPEE, LETS SMASH THAT WORD COUNT, BABY! (Round 2)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
TRUTH:
the dog barks. the dog barks. THE BLOODY DOG BARKS. AT ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. when he stops, my body suddenly says…oh, hey. Remember that you have Multiple Sclerosis? Remember that you took some medicine before the dog started barking? Maybe it’s time I made you go to sleep! Right now. and…of course….the dog starts barking again. grrrrrr.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
But all these distractions and excuses don’t really matter. I
read a quote on Twitter a few days ago that said it all:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="background: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="background-color: whitesmoke; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 115%;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>“A non-writing writer is a monster
courting insanity.” <o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b> ~ Franz
Kafka.</b></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: whitesmoke; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 115%;">And
so I carry on writing coz as many of you
know, I am already crazier than most people can cope with. And there’s still MILLIONNNNNNNNS of ideas trapped in my head…bwhahaha.....</span> oooh look! Twitter, shiny, shiny Twitter...... </span> <o:p></o:p></div>
Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-22454031840422373772013-01-27T19:58:00.000+00:002013-01-28T11:50:56.137+00:00<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>JUGGLING? WHILE RUNNING BACKWARDS???</b></span><br />
<br />
<br />
Today, in my continuing quest to post properly during 2013,
I am privileged to share an interview with my fellow writer, Nate Tower.
Because I'm lazy & he’s better at it than I am, here’s how he describes
himself on his website (http://nathanieltower.wordpress.com/about/) :<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #464545; font-family: Papyrus;"> </span><span style="color: #464545;"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Nathaniel
Tower is a writer, teacher, runner, coach and juggler. He is the founding
editor of the literary magazine </span></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://www.bartlebysnopes.com/" target="_blank" title="Bartleby Snopes"><span style="color: #535353;">Bartleby Snopes</span></a><span style="color: #464545;">. His short fiction has been published in over 200
online and print journals and has been
nominated for numerous awards. In 2011, <a href="http://museituppublishing.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #535353;">Muse ItUp
Publishing</span></a> released his first novel, </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/A-Reason-to-Kill-ebook/dp/B005C20JO8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1356007324&sr=8-1&keywords=a+reason+to+kill+tower" target="_blank"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: #535353; padding: 0cm;">A Reason to</span></i><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: #535353; padding: 0cm; text-decoration: initial;"> </span></i><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: #535353; padding: 0cm;">Kill</span></i></a><span style="color: #464545;">.
Several months later, his first novella, </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Hallways-and-Handguns-ebook/dp/B008DM1N4O/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1356007346&sr=8-1&keywords=hallways+and+handguns" target="_blank"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: #535353; padding: 0cm;">Hallways and Handguns,</span></i></a><span style="color: #464545;"> followed.
A collection of short fiction tentatively
titled <i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; padding: 0cm;">Nagging Wives and Foolish Husbands</span></i> is set to be
released through </span><a href="http://martianlit.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #535353;">Martian
Lit</span></a><span style="color: #464545;"> during 2013.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 11.25pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #464545;"> In
November 2012, Nathaniel set a world record by running a mile backwards while
juggling in 8 minutes and 22
seconds. The </span><a href="http://recordsetter.com/world-record/run-mile-backwards-while-juggling-three-balls/20000#contentsection" target="_blank"><span style="color: #535353;">record</span></a><span style="color: #464545;"> has been
confirmed by </span><a href="http://www.alternativerecords.co.uk/recorddetails.asp?recid=584" target="_blank"><span style="color: #535353;">The Book of Alternative Records</span></a><span style="color: #464545;">.</span><span style="color: #464545; line-height: 19.5pt;"> Nath</span><span style="color: #464545; line-height: 19.5pt;">aniel
currently resides in the Midwest with his wife and daughter.</span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red;">Ok, just for the record, Mr. ‘Man of
a Thousand Hats’, it is so hard to know where to start with you, there’s so many things I want to ask. You seem
to do just about EVERYTHING!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red;">First, completely unrelated to your
writing, tell me about juggling. I spent a summer trying to learn how to but the end result was …I’m
hopeless. Really, really, window breakingly hopeless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Joanna, thank you
for having me on your blog. I just started my own not too long ago, and I
already know the difficulty of trying to come up with new ideas. Everything's
already been done, right? Anyway, to your questions:<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I picked up juggling
when I was about thirteen. My brother showed me how after he learned how to do
it in a high school theatre class. So I did it for a while, learning a few
tricks. Then, like all good things, I went quite a few years without
practicing. I'd show off every once in a while, but if you can't do many tricks,
no one cares after about thirty seconds. It's just the same thing over and
over. I've only been really serious about juggling for the last few years. I
guess it's one of those things you never forget how to do. Honestly, it's not
that hard to learn. It just takes patience and the right method. There are
quite a few different ways to learn. Youtube has a ton of great tutorials. Of
course Youtube has them. Youtube has everything. I've picked up a lot of tricks
from watching those videos. The box pattern, the shower, the penguin, Mills
mess, etc. You definitely get better with practice. I just bought five new
juggling balls. I just have to learn how to get the fifth one in there.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red;">And that leads me to the next
fascinating thing: Juggling while running. BACKWARDS.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, I'm a
runner. I'm a juggler. Might as well do them at the same time. I'm sure the
first person to put peanut butter and jelly together was considered a
revolutionary. Maybe even a heretic. And if you can run forward while juggling,
might as well try it backwards. Right? Plus, the backwards records are easier
than the forward records. At least for me they are. Some people just can't run
backwards. They're afraid something is going to jump out and get them. The
first time I ran a mile backwards while juggling, I fell several times. I
tripped over a goal post that had fallen onto the track. But I got up and
finished that mile! Joggling is actually something that's been going on for
quite some time. Did you know they have an official Joggling Olympics every
year? I hope to attend one of these days. </span><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red;">I guess I need to get on to the main
purpose behind this interview, your writing. One thing I admire about you is
the fact that you work well in so many different formats: flash fiction, short
stories, novellas, novels and even a serialised novel that’s still in progress.
Is there one you prefer? Is your writing process different as you approach each
one? Do you have a specific ‘process’ as
such?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>The
process changes daily. I write whenever I can. Sometimes I write on scraps of
paper while driving. It's quite dangerous actually. I shouldn't do it. But when
I get the idea, I want to get it down even though I know I'll still have the
idea later. When you think of writing a story about a boy whose hands are made
of oats, the idea doesn't just disappear. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't think I have a
particular process for any particular format. I just write, write, write. I
like to write in big chunks, to get down as much as possible at a time. I
rarely outline. Sometimes I'll put down a "here's what happens next"
note at the end of a chapter. For short stories, I prefer to write the whole
thing in one sitting, then give it a rest for a day or two, then come back and
take it apart. The serialized novel might be my favourite to write (hey, why
did my Microsoft Word just autocorrect to that crazy British spelling of
favorite? It didn't have a problem with my "serialized"). It's such a
blast to come up with these crazy cliff-hangers at the end of pretty much every
chapter. Gotta keep the readers coming back, right? It's hard to come up with
so many twists though. I like writing weird stuff. Things that I'm pretty sure
no one else could come up with. That's my favorite thing to write. </span><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red;">You’re much younger than me (we
won’t discuss by how much!) and you seem to have produced a vast amount of work
in that time. I can pinpoint the exact moment when I knew I wanted to become a
writer, did you have a ‘moment’ like that? When did you start writing? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've
always been interested in writing. When I was six or seven or eight or
something like that I had a crappy poem published in one of those stupid
anthologies that accepts every poem sent in as long as you promise to buy the
book. Of course, being six or seven or eight, I didn't know that. I just
thought I was some literary god. So I went on to write a bunch of terrible
stories about warlocks and junk like that. And, just like the juggling, I
stopped writing for a while, for no reason really. Then I just started doing it
again. I guess the moment you're talking about was a discussion with a
co-worker about the greatest first lines in literature. I knew they were really
only great because of the work that followed (no one would care about
"Call me Ishmael" if it was a teen vampire romance novel). But I was
motivated to write the best first line ever. Hasn't happened yet. But I haven't
stopped trying. Actually, I do have the best opening line ever written, but
there's nothing after it right now, so it isn't an opening line. Maybe someday.</span>
<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="color: red;">Was it a long journey to publication
for you? Tell us how that worked:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Like all newbies, I had no idea what I was
doing at first. I bought one of those big heavy books and started sending out
manuscripts (in manila envelopes!) to all these big time publishers. I was
pretty naive back then. Of course, none of them took any of my stuff, and
eventually I discovered that there were thousands of internet publications that
didn't charge fees or require manila envelopes and SASEs. So I started sending
out things through email. I was tired of spending all the money on postal costs
anyway. My first ever acceptance was a story called "Hindsight of a
Friend." It was picked up by a little blog pub called </i>Darkest Before Dawn,
which is still going actually<i>. He, here's
a link if you want to read what my writing was like five years ago: </i><a href="http://darknessbefore.blogspot.com/2008/07/hindsight-of-friend-nathaniel-tower.html"><i>http://darknessbefore.blogspot.com/2008/07/hindsight-of-friend-nathaniel-tower.html</i></a></span><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. I was so proud. My wife and I went out to
a fancy dinner. I was a published author! We actually had the dinner plans
already. But now there was reason to celebrate and order that extra glass of
wine! Magically, another 200 or so acceptances followed. Very few of those were
celebrated with fancy dinners. It's a good thing. We'd be broke now. I still
get rejected a lot now, of course. Doesn't everyone? But I don't cry for hours
like I used to.</span><o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: red;">What other writers do you admire
craftwise? Who do you like to read?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I don't want to waste
time reciting the typical canon of famous authors (except Donald Barthelme—I
must mention Barthelme!). I'd rather focus on great writers I enjoy who deserve
more exposure. Andrew Stancek is great. Susan Tepper. Chris DeWildt. I wish I
could name a thousand authors. I hope none of my favourites are offended when I
leave them off. Oh, Stephen V Ramey for sure. Everything of his I've read is
dynamite. He just came out with a new collection called </i>Glass Animals <i>that I'm looking forward to reading. I love
reading short stories. I don't discriminate based on name or reputation. Just
give me a good short story.</i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red;">Let’s talk about Bartelby Snopes,
the online Lit magazine you started in 2008. What led you to start it? What do
you look for when you choose the pieces you print?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Frustration is
what led to the birth of </i>BS<i>. Too many
days waiting for form rejections. I wanted personal feedback. I wanted it in
three days. That's the mission of </i>Bartleby Snopes</span><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. As far as what we want in our stories, we have a big list of turnoffs
on our site. Besides not doing those things, we want to see stories that make
us say, "Damn. I wish I had written that."</span><o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red;">What has surprised you most about
your life so far as a writer?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Two things come to
mind. The first is how much I've changed in such a short time. When I look back
at stories I wrote five years ago, very few of them seem like things I could
write today. Not saying they're bad stories. Just saying I don't think I would
have written them. Mostly it's a stylistic thing I guess. But it's not like
five years is a long time. It's not like my life is that dramatically different
now. I do have a kid now, but I feel like my perspective on the world and
whatnot is pretty much the same. So why is my writing so different? Can I blame
it on climate change?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The other thing that
surprises me is how awesome everyone (almost everyone) in the writing community
is. For the most part, there's just so much love and support. With so much
competition going on at each individual journal, you'd think writers would be
cutthroat, would hide their writing secrets. Nah. Everyone wants to help
everyone else. Someone should make a reality television show where a bunch of
writers are living together. I think it would be a riot. Or boring as hell.</span><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red;">I read in an authorised bio of
Robbie Williams that he's been known to occasionally shut off all the lights in
the recording studio and get naked in the sound booth while singing. He says it
helps him when he really wants to nail a song. How do you shake things up if
you feel stuck or that the writing has become stale?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Besides being
naked when I write? I mean, how could anyone write with clothes on? Well, I
like to make masks of what I think my characters look like. When the writing
gets stale or stuck, I put the mask on and try to act like that character.
Surprisingly, I find that most of my characters look exactly like me. </span><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red;">One last question for you. If you
could hang out with two famous authors, one alive, one dead, who would you
choose and why?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Easy. Dante. He'd take me around hell with
him and we'd drink port or something like that. Maybe smoke cigars. I'd teach
him how to juggle while we watched the tortured souls. Huggling. It sounds like
it's juggling while hugging, but it's actually juggling while you're in hell.
Then we'd try to visit with a few famous writers. See which ones are there.
Then I'd abandon him and write my own </i>Inferno<i>. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And alive, alive-o? </span><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Definitely
James Franco. We would read poetry together at a coffee house and he would be
flocked by female admirers who would walk away in disgust and disappointment
after hearing his poetry. No one would ask for his autograph. On our way out of
the coffee shop, a group of people would recognize me as the world record
holder for the backwards joggling mile. After they left, I'd tell James that
it's okay. "At least you've got that acting career," I'd say while
patting him on the back. </span><o:p></o:p></i></div>
Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-90682702751645758732013-01-14T13:31:00.001+00:002013-01-14T13:31:54.526+00:00<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Showcard Gothic"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Showcard Gothic"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I could kiss frank zappa<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Frittering away
some time on FB a few days ago... (What? On FB??) when I remembered that I
promised last month (#queue suitably ominous music) on the eve of the END OF THE WORLD…that I’d
write a blog post 2x a month if we all woke up in the morning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">(Silly me. I had
every faith that we would, indeed still be here, and was only using it as a
stick to poke myself to action.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">So here is
number one post of January. OMG I have 23 more to go 'til this time next
year…(slitting my wrists now)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Showcard Gothic"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I could kiss frank zappa…..</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">honestly, I could.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">I love Meg Tuite
(</span><a href="http://www.megtuite.com/"><span style="background: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">www.megtuite.com/</span></a><span style="background: white; color: #009933; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> </span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">) </span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">In the last 2 years since committing myself to serious efforts with
regards to my writing, I have been so blessed to</span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> </span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">encounter </span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"> amazing, talented, kind people from all over
the world. In some instances to even be published alongside them. Meg is one of
them. She posted this quote on FB<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">‘Without
deviation from the norm, progress is not possible.’ Frank Zappa<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">POW! I read it and had one of THOSE moments. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">If like me, you
are fond of beautiful words that feel luscious in your mouth when you say them,
you might say it was an EPIPHANY. (Say it! Really, it feels great in your
mouth. But I also love the feel of: </span><span style="font-family: Jokerman;">Squish</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">. And </span><b><i><span style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amanuensis</span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">,</span></b><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"> which I think is a most beautiful word)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Say it again:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"> ‘Without deviation from the norm, progress is
not possible.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Short.
Sweet. True. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">I loved Frank
Zappa as a kid. My dad used to play him a lot. He made me feel a bit naughty.
He wasn’t buttoned up. He wasn’t regular. He was weird. Different. Interesting.
Loud.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">He shook people
up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">All the things I
aspire to be and do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">(okay, yes, I realize I am already weird & loud...)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">This year I haven’t set any resolutions (NOT a word I am in love with BTW) for the new year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Basically my
mantra is MORE & LESS.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">MORE of the
good.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">LESS of the
destructive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Easy peasy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">So, figure out
what your norm is. Kick it in the ass. Turn it on its head. Give it a good
talking to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Just don’t buddy
up to it and spend your evenings curled up together eating popcorn and watching
Netflix.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">SHAKE THINGS UP.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">And for the
record…if I actually was allowed the blessed privilege of kissing a Zappa, you
could wrap <b>DWEEZIL</b> up and have him ready for me this weekend. (***sigh***)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">.... and tell
him to bring those eyebrows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-1178742995997116532012-11-19T22:39:00.001+00:002012-11-19T22:39:24.028+00:00Winners NEVER Quit? Meh.<br />
<b><u>Winners NEVER Quit???</u></b><br />
<br />
Whatever. Meh.<br />
<br />
writer exits stage left, sticking two fingers up in the air, breathes heavy sigh of relief.<br />
<br />
sometimes I ought to listen to myself.<br />
really, I should.<br />
<br />
What, you too?<br />
<br />
Yeah seriously, try it. It's actually quite liberating to realize that despite many many many occasions supporting the opposite hypothesis. I can actually be wise. I can actually issue myself some valid advice.<br />
<br />
(Ok, shut up, Anne Turner who came in on me breast feeding child number two. He who absolutely refused to latch on, no matter how hungry he was. I<i> know</i> I was cursing under my breath every. single. time. he. reattached. I know he was hungry. I know I was in agony. I know I was so pale I looked liked a Team Edward extra.<br />
BUT DAMMIT, number one was a write off on breastfeeding for completely separate reasons, so I was determined this time. Thank you for going to the chemist and returning with a tin of formula and forcing me to do it. Everyone was immediately happier and he is now, at age 11 a delightful child, and no worse for my bad bad bad mothering)<br />
<br />
(Ok, and you shut up as well Tammy Johnston...I know you can point out waaaay to many occasions to list here....no, <i>really</i> shut up)<br />
<br />
I can be wise, and I can follow my own counsel ....and believe it or not, I'm going to do it for once.<br />
Last year in December I wrote a blog on how I felt after my first proper attempt at National Novel Writing Month. And I said in a round about way that I didn't think I'd do it again. Unless...<br />
Unless I plotted it out very well. Which this year I did, thank you.<br />
Unless I learned to be a better typist as I was so slow that keeping to the word count really infringed on family life, my normally fairly happy mood and a million other things...<br />
Which I did not.<br />
No, really I did not, despite buying a copy of Mavis Beacon (barely looked at it)<br />
<br />
And I also remember saying how I couldn't wait till I got the chance to start writing again slowly, painstakingly, choosing each word for the sheer beauty of it.<br />
<br />
I ignored that feeling, and jumped straight in again this year.<br />
I had 30k of a novel already started, it took me 3 months to get that far, taking my time, not stressing, and agonizing over the exact wording on many sentences. I loved that beginning phase of this book, love the premise of the novel, love the characters. Couldn't wait every day to spend time with them.<br />
<br />
Then Nano happened. I decided to try to get to the end of the first draft for this book with the 50k I'd write in November.With all it's scrabbling and stressing and me trying desperately to juggle family & housework & writing & friends & sleep & & & & ......<br />
<br />
I realized today that I HATE 90% of what I've written in the last 2 weeks. Not the plot, not the structure, not the actual scenes. Just the rushed nature of it. the not as carefully executed nature of it. the throw away sentences and not quite exact wording. And the desperation to just keep on top of the word count.<br />
AND I'm really stressed out, with the rest of this month's horizon looking so cluttered and manic that there is literally no breathing space. So the stress is gonna get much worse.<br />
<br />
I am taking my own advice. I'm bowing out after two weeks.<br />
And to be fair, me backing down and letting go of my stubbornness within a two week window is a MAJOR step forward in my personal maturity. (and we all know how mature I am ....NOT)<br />
<br />
So see ya later my lovely fellow Nano nutters. I will follow you on line, I will chat on FB and stay part of the group....I'll just go at my own pace and not worry about the word count. I'll worry about how lyrical it is, whether it's pulling me by the heartstrings down unexpected paths. I'll worry about being madly in love with all my characters, making them well rounded, interesting and complicated.<br />
<br />
Starting tomorrow I'll concentrate on <i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">w.r.i.t.i.n.g</span></i>....not...... (add go faster stripes)<br />
==>>> <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>writing!!!!====>>>></i></span><br />
<br />
<br />
(yay!)<br />
<br />
Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-84336336521456490332012-10-10T21:41:00.000+01:002012-10-11T15:19:24.572+01:00TAG! I'm it!<br />
<br />
My fab friend Gill Hoffs invited me to participate in this fun blogging round robin game of tag!<br />
It's great because it gets me blogging again sooner than I planned and it gets me thinking about my current project in the same way a reader might....well....what exactly makes my current project interesting? lets see!<br />
<br />
Gill can be found here. GO! Read!!! She is FAB (honestly):<br />
<a href="http://gillhoffs.wordpress.com/">http://gillhoffs.wordpress.com/</a><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Ten Interview
Questions for The Next Big Thing</span>
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
<strong>What is the working title of your book?</strong> </span></span><span style="background: white; color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><em>Harbinger </em>or
<em>Death’s Door</em>, can’t decide at this point.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
<strong>Where did the idea come from for the book?</strong></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sitting on the
Museum Street library floor in Warrington Cheshire. I was reading Patrick Ness for the first time and totally immersed in this world he creates, when bam! a load of WHAT IF questions popped up! Then the character of Rosa just jumped into my head, fully formed with all her gifts and faults, and the fact that she was displaced to this desperate situation.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
<strong>What genre does your book fall under?</strong> YA sci-fi/dystopian fantasy</span></span></div>
<span style="background: white; color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br />
<strong>Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?</strong>
<br />
Ohhhh, great question!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Definitely<em><strong> NOT</strong></em>
Kirsten heavy-breather Stewart. Maybe Emmy Rossum (a few years ago) as Rosie, but just bare faced
with freckles and her hair plaited all messy.
Evan…hmmm maybe Adam Brody, and Finn is definitely Zach Roerig. (Problem is, the fellas I find sexy are too old to be my characters ....Hugh Jackman or Robert Downy Jnr as late teens/ early twenty somethings???)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br />
<strong>What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?</strong></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
Orphaned teenagers stranded on
a dying planet find a device with the power to renew the
earth-but is it from God or science? Add how will they protect themselves from the enemy
that stranded them there once they discover the truth? (sorry 2 sentences, go on, rap my knuckles)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<strong>Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?</strong> <br />
Well, I have a book under consideration with a publisher at the minute so hoping they will want both of them! (are you listening universe?)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br />
<strong>How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?</strong><br />
The first
draft is currently 36k but it should be completed at the end of Nanovember! (National Novel Wtiing Month-<span style="color: #009933;">www.nanowrimo.org/ )</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br />
<strong>What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?</strong> <br />
Arrrgggh no
idea. It’s dystopian ,and fantasy so maybe lovers of Divergent or the Hunger Games might like, (or heaven forbid it would ever be that good, Patrick Ness) it but it is very different, and there are
definitely no vampires.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br />
<strong>Who or What inspired you to write this book?</strong> <br />
Reading Patrick Ness- The Knife of
Never Letting Go. I just fell in love with that book & the ones that followed, although mine is very different. It's more about the 'feel' and the idea of being young but still having power when a situation seems desperate or out of your control.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<br />
<strong>What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?</strong><br />
It has<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> a </span>teeny tiny teenage girl who can summon
volcanoes, grow roses with her tears and who can either make it snow or start fires depending on who’s
kissing her.<br />
<br />
Oh! And read Patrick Ness- he's amazing. <span style="color: #009933;">www.goodreads.com/author/show/370361.<b>Patrick</b>_<b>Ness</b></span></div>
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So now it's the turn of my friends to answer these questions! Look out for them some time next week!</div>
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Zoe Sharp, fabulous crime writer of the Charlie Fox series, at Hardboiled Collective <span style="color: blue;">http://hardboiledcollective.blogspot.co.uk/</span></div>
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Chris Boyle: <a href="http://www.sbphoenix.blogspot.com/">www.sbphoenix.blogspot.com</a></div>
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Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-66299910302317832712012-10-05T23:52:00.002+01:002012-10-05T23:52:52.578+01:00
<br />
Have you ever heard that saying 'Be careful what you wish for?'<br />
<br />
<br />
yeah, well...DON'T listen to it. Wish for things. Big things. Things you
really want.<br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
Then work your ass off to get them.<br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
And <em>when</em>, IF and when, things start to look promising, relish every single
minute of it, every little baby step towards the realisation of it, every
little pat on the back that happens along the journey. Goals aren't just the END
result, they are also the accumulation of knowledge, skills and experience that
happens along way whilst you are busy chasing that 'thing' you want so much. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
I've been fishing and had a nibble. Dropped a little dangling 15k worth of
worms someone's way and they have decided to taste test the rest of the bait.
It's ever so exciting because at the tender age of over 40 and under 50, it
feels utterly delightful to have the small bit of validation that comes with
this. Maybe all my scribbling time has not been a total waste, you know??<br />
<br />
Well, not a waste at all really, as it's prevented me on many occasions from having to clean house, organise the dead batteries in the kitchen drawer according to size and colour, checking to see which pairs of trousers are too impossibly short for my boys to get away with any more...<br />
<br />
so nibble away Mr. Fish. I think my worms are rather tasty little tid-bits, and I hope you do too.<br />
<br />
<br />
---- ----- ---- ---- !!!!!!! ---- ---- ---- ---- <br />
<br />
<br />
well...here we are again, quickly ticking off days on our calendars until.....NOOOOOO!!!! Not another year of NaNoWriMo!!!!!!<br />
<br />
<br />
I have a game plan this year. I can type slightly faster now....35 or 40 wpm as opposed to last years pathetic offering of only 27 words a minute.<br />
<br />
And....hold onto your suspenders ladies, I actually have a PLOT, the production of which required one of those 'no children were harmed during...' disclaimers. (my poor neglected kids and it's only going to get worse)<br />
<br />
I am a notorious pantser, and I suffered greatly for it last year. so, this year is going to be vastly different.<br />
<br />
I have a detailed plot, which, as we speak, I am trying to tailor into a calendared (okay I made that word up but it works) format that tells me day by day which chapter I will write and how it will fit into an already existing 36k worth of MS that is more shapeless and unorganised than the near to bursting contents of my girdle ('magic knickers' for you younger readers).<br />
<br />
I also am researching in preparation.....I need to understand: pioneer preparation, SAS training, creation theories, pandora mythology, a bit of interstellar warcraft and some spaceship capability shite. Oh. and what it might sound like if you were to stick your head in the ocean and hear/understand the sounds of all the living things in it. And that's just for starters.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I'm thinking that December will be yet another writing free zone this year. we'll all need it!</span>Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-85922427697832781992011-12-28T14:38:00.000+00:002011-12-28T14:38:41.401+00:00The December DesertSo....am quickly approaching the end of December. All I can say is hallelujah! This year, as a result of torturing my family with my first (and possibly last) successful <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>NaNovember, I agreed to NOT TO WRITE at all during December. And I have stuck to that promise.<br />
<br />
Mad you say?<br />
Yep!<br />
<br />
But....come November 30th, my nerves were frazzled, my house was a bombsite, and my husband and children were feeling woefully neglected. This all because I decided, with a part time job and an appalling typing speed of only 27 words a minute, to try my hand at 50k words in one month.<br />
<br />
I can happily report that I did it.<br />
I can also report that the resulting manuscript is the most appalling piece of dreck anyone on planet earth ever produced.<br />
<br />
Things I learned doing Nano:<br />
1) a Typing speed of only 27 words a minute is a serious hindrance to someone who wishes to write professionally. Even if I never do Nano again, am gifting myself with a typing course in the New Year to address the weakness.<br />
2) when short on word count and ideas, a gratuitous (and quite possibly thrown out in the edit) sex scene between 2 completely unlikely characters supplies a great giggle, refreshes the writing juices and can account for A LOT of words!<br />
3) online support groups are invaluable but also verrrrry distracting. Especially as I am 100% certain that they all type faster than I do and can afford to blather on FB chat.<br />
4) my family are like delicate orchids and really suffer when they don't receive the requisite amount of TLC. Faster typing and better time management will help this in future.<br />
5) a dirty house is a good excuse and a great distraction...in an ideal world, dishes and laundry would type for me as I cleaned, or possibly clean up themselves. Any inventors out there?<br />
6) Writing that much fries your synapses. <br />
<br />
I have graduated from the Crash Test Dummy School of Writing.<br />
<br />
I am emerging from the dry boring December desert of no writing, hopefully refreshed and ready to write again. This time, more slowly, choosing every single word for the beauty of it instead of the word count. <br />
<br />
I can’t wait.Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-86280940133426613282011-09-18T00:24:00.000+01:002011-09-18T00:24:05.868+01:00Get lost<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Not far from where I live in northwest England is a small village. Outsiders pay little if any attention to it. Very probably, if you looked close, it wouldn’t seem to offer anything different from other villages nearby. But I love it. I find everything about it charming, fascinating. I spend as much time there as my complicated life will allow. Going there fills a gaping, hungry hole in me. The hole comes back often, so I know it’s roads well.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve learned that it’s nothing like every other village you might drive past. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Twitch the curtains a bit, peel back the wallpaper, dig in the flower beds, and you find Secrets. Stories. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dramas. If you pay attention, listen to the quiet whispers, ripples and gaps in the conversations, you find that its inhabitants lives are full of riddles and complexities. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There’s the young estate agent so utterly bewitched by a house she’s supposed to sell that she gets rid of potential buyers any way she can. A teenager that can wipe away a person’s memory just by touching their hand. The reclusive 80’s rock star hiding in her barn at a local farm, hoping no one recognises her from her past. The woman trying to escape from her philandering, murderous husband, the local investment banker. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A travelling circus full of arsonists, thieves, conmen and killers. Not a single person in the village is dull. Like you, like me, they all have a story to tell.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At times, if I’m distracted or too busy, I find it hard to go there. I can tell if it’s been too long between visits. I feel antsy, unfulfilled. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The odd thing is, when I do finally get there, it could be anytime, day or night. I might be physically pushing a trolley down the aisle at ASDA, watching a film with my husband, walking to school to collect the kids. But I’m not, really. I’m in my little village, visiting the rock star as she struggles with the opportunity to revive her career. A career that several years before ended in tragedy, bad press and dead bodies. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m walking through the gardens with the estate agent, smelling the roses, spying the koi in the pond, watching the play of sunlight and shadows in the pines.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Wherever I am physically, you can be sure of one thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eighty per cent of the time, mentally I’m there. Wandering the streets, having a chat. Sharing a few tears. Cheering triumphs, large or small. Starting fights, stirring up trouble.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve christened my little village Get Lost, I’m Writing. No one else goes there without an invite. And I really need to get back to it, coz the inhabitants are getting restless. They have things to say, places to go, scores to settle. And they can’t do it unless I get moving. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, Get Lost, I’m Writing.</span></div>Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4140579568840686239.post-70698694168139254402011-05-05T14:39:00.001+01:002011-09-11T21:08:36.144+01:00piffle and rambleWell... I am doing exactly that THING.which.I.would.NEVER. do (as I feel it marks me with a certain taint of 'up my own proverbial'-ness)<br />
<br />
but nonetheless, here it is. A BLOG. Apparently, as I am under the probably mistaken impression that I may want to be a published writer someday (and a princess, an astronaut, the next Madonna, nobel prize winner in physics...scratch the last entry)...it is <span style="font-style: italic;">de rigueur, </span>as I must have mega saturated web presence and be contactable in multiple formats....pfffft. uber pffft. (the luddite in me scoffs, and has had to write this 2x as came off screen and neglected to save my work...)<br />
<br />
I add keeping a blog to a universe sized list of THINGS I AM ALREADY NOT GETTING DONE due to the fact that I am mind numbingly busy with the following noble pursuits:<br />
<br />
1. attempting to build loving relationship skills with husband and children that do not include Banshee level screaming or murder.<br />
2. trying to keep house manageable, if not spotless whilst doing things that really matter to me (see #1 and pile on: writing, running lovely writers group, reading, attending church, writing, seeing mates, working, breathing, parents association, sleeping, eating copious amounts of hummus and chocolate but not together.)<br />
2. practicing to be a little bit better as a person everyday (epic FAIL, as my 13 yr old would say)<br />
<br />
As a result, BLOG keeping falls into the catagory of Things That Keep Me From Writing a Bestseller, along with scrabble on Facebook, ebay, unsolicited marketing phonecalls & a manic, attention seeking Border Collie that is only still alive as we are not in Thailand and I cannot feed him to kids when low on groceries.<br />
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Add to that, dear cyber stalkers, the fact that all of the above things are <span style="font-style: italic;">mostly</span> boring to me and will therefore be <span style="font-style: italic;">completely</span> boring to spectators. Which, need I point out the obvious, will make for one mega yawn inducing blog.<br />
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<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">So Todays Point of Interest</span>: READ NEIL GAIMAN. (am sending mind control vibes to all and sundry.) DO IT NOW!<br />
<br />
After having loved his kids books (yes, I buy irreverent and subversive books for my kids at every opportunity), I have discovered his adult novels (stop thinking naughty thoughts) and have been devouring them at an unhealthy rate. I have to restrain myself from licking the pages as I am desperate to involve yet another sense in the experience. Have realised that at my current rate of consumption I will have exhausted his entire back catalog by end of summer and will have to resort to drastic measures.<br />
In last 2 months I have read Neverwhere, The Graveyard Book, and Anansi Boys. Nearly cried upon reaching the end of Graveyard & Neverwhere because I couldn't stand it that the story was actually over.<br />
<br />
Maybe I even will go so far as to go all Kathy Bates ALA Misery and kidnap him so he will write more for me. <br />
<br />
Add his lovely turn of phrase and quirky story lines to the fact that he has gorgeous curly hair, and it's a done deal.<br />
Anyways, my weakness for curly hair aside, READ his stuff, it is FAB.<br />
<br />
Thus endeth my first Blog entry. It involved no injury or loss of blood, and I'm not asleep yet. hmmm. mission accomplished.Josiejo (Joanna Delooze)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08563750772570823683noreply@blogger.com1