Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Friday, December 23, 2011
The End
Finally, I got around to writing something down on the paper, the words, The End. Having killed off most of the chracters in the book, I am wondering if it is such a good vibe for the reader?
But these characters seem to have a life of their own and I am glad they don't live next door to me - the blurb is basically about two women who end up connected to each other for life due to a series of accidental deaths. A case of history repeating itself - and can we break the link in that chain?
The other book is a much more light-hearted rom-com kinda thing with one guy in the middle of two women. All fated to be in the same place at the same time and how they drag each other out of their comfort zones and find what it is they are really loooking for.
If you need to have your brain really wracked over the wracking machine this Christmas, then check out Query Shark - a blog futher along this line somewhere.
The website for our Creative Write Space is under construction and will be available after Christmas so signing out now due to overindulgence of popcorn and Quality Street chocs and will see you all the other side of 2011. That is - the good side. x
But these characters seem to have a life of their own and I am glad they don't live next door to me - the blurb is basically about two women who end up connected to each other for life due to a series of accidental deaths. A case of history repeating itself - and can we break the link in that chain?
The other book is a much more light-hearted rom-com kinda thing with one guy in the middle of two women. All fated to be in the same place at the same time and how they drag each other out of their comfort zones and find what it is they are really loooking for.
If you need to have your brain really wracked over the wracking machine this Christmas, then check out Query Shark - a blog futher along this line somewhere.
The website for our Creative Write Space is under construction and will be available after Christmas so signing out now due to overindulgence of popcorn and Quality Street chocs and will see you all the other side of 2011. That is - the good side. x
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Long Live Scrooge!
Happy Christmas - what a joy....
Scrooge took his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern; and having read all the newspapers, and beguiled the rest of the evening with his banker’s book, went home to bed. He lived in chambers which had once belonged to his deceased partner. They were a gloomy suite of rooms, in a lowering pile of building up a yard, where it had so little business to be, that one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide-and-seek with other houses, and forgotten the way out again. It was old enough now, and dreary enough, for nobody lived in it but Scrooge, the other rooms being all let out as offices. They yard was so dark that even Scrooge, who knew its every stone, was fain to grope with his hands. The fog and frost so hung about the black old gateway of the house, that it seemed as if the Genius of the Weather sat in mournful meditation on the threshold.
Now it is a fact, that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door, except that it was very large. It is also a fact, that Scrooge had seen it night and morning, during his whole residency in that place; also that Scrooge had as little of what is called fancy about him as many a man in the City of London. Let it also be borne in the mind that Scrooge had not bestowed one thought on Marley, since his last mention of his seven-years’ dead partner that afternoon. And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change – not a knocker, but Marley’s face.
Marley’s face. It was not in impenetrable shadow as the other objects in the yard were, but had a dismal light about it, like a bad lobster in a dark cellar. It was not angry or ferocious, but looked at Scrooge as Marley used to look: with ghostly spectacles turned up on its ghostly forehead. The hair was curiously stirred, as if by breath or hot air; and though the eyes were wide open, they were perfectly motionless. That, and its livid colour, made it horrible; but its horror seemed to be in spite of the face and beyond its control, rather than a part of its own expression.
A Christmas Carol is an allegory built on an episodic narrative structure in which each of the main passages has a fixed, obvious symbolic meaning. The book is divided into five sections. Dickens labels them Staves in reference to the musical notation staff . A Christmas carol, after all, is a song! Each middle three Staves revolves around a visitation by one of the three famous spirits. The three spirit-guides, along with each of their tales, carry out a thematic function - the Ghost of Christmas Past, with his glowing head, represents memory; the Ghost of Christmas Present represents charity, empathy, and the Christmas spirit. The reaper-like Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come represents the fear of death. Scrooge symbolises the negative Christmas spirit - greed, selfishness, indifference, and a lack of consideration for one's fellow man. So the Three Act Structure really does work!
Scrooge took his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern; and having read all the newspapers, and beguiled the rest of the evening with his banker’s book, went home to bed. He lived in chambers which had once belonged to his deceased partner. They were a gloomy suite of rooms, in a lowering pile of building up a yard, where it had so little business to be, that one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide-and-seek with other houses, and forgotten the way out again. It was old enough now, and dreary enough, for nobody lived in it but Scrooge, the other rooms being all let out as offices. They yard was so dark that even Scrooge, who knew its every stone, was fain to grope with his hands. The fog and frost so hung about the black old gateway of the house, that it seemed as if the Genius of the Weather sat in mournful meditation on the threshold.
Now it is a fact, that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door, except that it was very large. It is also a fact, that Scrooge had seen it night and morning, during his whole residency in that place; also that Scrooge had as little of what is called fancy about him as many a man in the City of London. Let it also be borne in the mind that Scrooge had not bestowed one thought on Marley, since his last mention of his seven-years’ dead partner that afternoon. And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change – not a knocker, but Marley’s face.
Marley’s face. It was not in impenetrable shadow as the other objects in the yard were, but had a dismal light about it, like a bad lobster in a dark cellar. It was not angry or ferocious, but looked at Scrooge as Marley used to look: with ghostly spectacles turned up on its ghostly forehead. The hair was curiously stirred, as if by breath or hot air; and though the eyes were wide open, they were perfectly motionless. That, and its livid colour, made it horrible; but its horror seemed to be in spite of the face and beyond its control, rather than a part of its own expression.
A Christmas Carol is an allegory built on an episodic narrative structure in which each of the main passages has a fixed, obvious symbolic meaning. The book is divided into five sections. Dickens labels them Staves in reference to the musical notation staff . A Christmas carol, after all, is a song! Each middle three Staves revolves around a visitation by one of the three famous spirits. The three spirit-guides, along with each of their tales, carry out a thematic function - the Ghost of Christmas Past, with his glowing head, represents memory; the Ghost of Christmas Present represents charity, empathy, and the Christmas spirit. The reaper-like Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come represents the fear of death. Scrooge symbolises the negative Christmas spirit - greed, selfishness, indifference, and a lack of consideration for one's fellow man. So the Three Act Structure really does work!
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Look for the signs...
How To Know You Are Approaching The Big 40.
1. You write lists about everything.
2. You put lists on fridge with specific magnets.
3. You think the girl in the coffee shop is secretly overcharging you on cups of tea.
4. You know you have karisma but don't know what it is for or who wants to see it.
5. You talk about the weather to strangers in the shop/post office/bank queue.
6. You warble on about the 'good old days' of 1985.
7. You say, "God be with the days."
8. You want to cook like Nigella Lawson, but instead look like N.L. in THAT all-in-one swim suit.
9. You think you could sow a patch-work quilt, but can't thread a needle.
10. You plan to get "your inner self" out.
11. This seems to involve a lot of wine tasting.
12. Someone on the bus calls you "that lady".
13. When people mispronounce your name - you fail to correct them.
14. You want to meet ---- because you know when you do, you will have loads in common.
15. You want to go on a world hike, on your own.
16. Sometimes when you think about 50 you begin doing your neck exercises.
17. You think younger men are hilarious.
18. You know you can dance, but not professionally (or for inspiration).
19. You think you have the gift of second sight, but don't know how to use it.
20. You've given up wanting it all - the Top Notch Job/Soul Man/Children and will settle instead for a Cadbury's Walnut Whip.
You Know You Are Approaching The Big 50
I will have to get back to you on that. At the moment the conversation is revovling around a film on TV and the thoughts that I still have a good way to go until then.
PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT - seems I have viewers in Russia and the Netherlands. Would love to know what you think. Das Vadanja Tavarich!
1. You write lists about everything.
2. You put lists on fridge with specific magnets.
3. You think the girl in the coffee shop is secretly overcharging you on cups of tea.
4. You know you have karisma but don't know what it is for or who wants to see it.
5. You talk about the weather to strangers in the shop/post office/bank queue.
6. You warble on about the 'good old days' of 1985.
7. You say, "God be with the days."
8. You want to cook like Nigella Lawson, but instead look like N.L. in THAT all-in-one swim suit.
9. You think you could sow a patch-work quilt, but can't thread a needle.
10. You plan to get "your inner self" out.
11. This seems to involve a lot of wine tasting.
12. Someone on the bus calls you "that lady".
13. When people mispronounce your name - you fail to correct them.
14. You want to meet ---- because you know when you do, you will have loads in common.
15. You want to go on a world hike, on your own.
16. Sometimes when you think about 50 you begin doing your neck exercises.
17. You think younger men are hilarious.
18. You know you can dance, but not professionally (or for inspiration).
19. You think you have the gift of second sight, but don't know how to use it.
20. You've given up wanting it all - the Top Notch Job/Soul Man/Children and will settle instead for a Cadbury's Walnut Whip.
You Know You Are Approaching The Big 50
I will have to get back to you on that. At the moment the conversation is revovling around a film on TV and the thoughts that I still have a good way to go until then.
PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT - seems I have viewers in Russia and the Netherlands. Would love to know what you think. Das Vadanja Tavarich!
Friday, December 16, 2011
For the right way...
If you want to get some idea of what is the best way to address your book to agents then look at this.
http://queryshark.blogspot.com/.
http://queryshark.blogspot.com/.
Lucky Dog Makes Garda's Day
My faith in human goodness is restored. A big thank you to Mam, Auntie Eileen, Tommy and the Garda in the station with the flu. Lucky, our dog escaped out the back of the (stationary) car after our walk this morning down the Navvy Bank. I searched everywhere and had to get home to give Eddie the car because he was going to a meeting. I naturally was in bits. Sobbing in the hall like a demented person. Eddie saying: "he's only a dog". I was thinking of the kids' faces when I'd have to tell them their dog was missing. It would be better if he were killed by a car, and dead, than missing. Missing was full of hope.
I called the Gardai. A Garda sympathised with me and was very nice. "The kids will be..." he said. "In fuckin bits!" I yelled, not like me to say 'fuckin' to a garda or anyone. Told me to call him back if Lucky came home. "I could do with a happy story today", he said. I also called the Dundalk Dog Pound and left a message with the details.
Then Eileen called me, told me Lucky was over the road at the bank infront of their house. She sent her husband Tommy over to see if he could get him. He did, and took Lucky back to their house. All good. I was on my way - walking. Eileen phoned again to tell me Lucky escaped and vanished. Then Tommy saw him on the bank way way in the distance. I tell them I am on my way, walking. As I run up the road, never before knew I could do this, I phone Mam on my mobile and get her answering in hushed tones, at Mass around the corner. She gets into her car in the carpark and drives us to the Navvy Bank. I see Lucky on the road at the junction and race out the car like a f.....ing lula. I offer Lucky a Titan Chocolate Bar, and he comes over and then I yank him into the back of Mam's car. We go to Eileen's to give thanks, and Tommy is fixing wires from their outdoor Christmas lights, and is relieved we got Lucky. "Did Lucky do that damage?" I ask. "It's ok". Oh God, I look at the outside door with the handle Lucky opened with his front paws, and look past that at Lucky sitting in the back seat of the car looking over at us. Feel like plugging myself into a socket wall along with Lucky. We get home, and the nice Garda phones back to see if I got the dog. People are good, decent. Maybe this is my Christmas message? Will be plugging myself into a large Bailey's Coffee tonight. Lucky will not be allow back into a house where he can open doors. Definatley not getting any eye contact from me ever again. (This is in past and present tense because I am still shaking.........)
I called the Gardai. A Garda sympathised with me and was very nice. "The kids will be..." he said. "In fuckin bits!" I yelled, not like me to say 'fuckin' to a garda or anyone. Told me to call him back if Lucky came home. "I could do with a happy story today", he said. I also called the Dundalk Dog Pound and left a message with the details.
Then Eileen called me, told me Lucky was over the road at the bank infront of their house. She sent her husband Tommy over to see if he could get him. He did, and took Lucky back to their house. All good. I was on my way - walking. Eileen phoned again to tell me Lucky escaped and vanished. Then Tommy saw him on the bank way way in the distance. I tell them I am on my way, walking. As I run up the road, never before knew I could do this, I phone Mam on my mobile and get her answering in hushed tones, at Mass around the corner. She gets into her car in the carpark and drives us to the Navvy Bank. I see Lucky on the road at the junction and race out the car like a f.....ing lula. I offer Lucky a Titan Chocolate Bar, and he comes over and then I yank him into the back of Mam's car. We go to Eileen's to give thanks, and Tommy is fixing wires from their outdoor Christmas lights, and is relieved we got Lucky. "Did Lucky do that damage?" I ask. "It's ok". Oh God, I look at the outside door with the handle Lucky opened with his front paws, and look past that at Lucky sitting in the back seat of the car looking over at us. Feel like plugging myself into a socket wall along with Lucky. We get home, and the nice Garda phones back to see if I got the dog. People are good, decent. Maybe this is my Christmas message? Will be plugging myself into a large Bailey's Coffee tonight. Lucky will not be allow back into a house where he can open doors. Definatley not getting any eye contact from me ever again. (This is in past and present tense because I am still shaking.........)
Saturday, December 10, 2011
In the lane...
Snow is glistening, along with many of us, in our own lane keeping to our own mantras. Working on our 40s as a time of "me" time. But if you need some signposts along the way then check out some of these -
I like "drop the donut." Like, but don't love.
http://www.lifehack.org/articles/lifestyle/10-awesome-inspirational-manifestos.html
I like "drop the donut." Like, but don't love.
http://www.lifehack.org/articles/lifestyle/10-awesome-inspirational-manifestos.html
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Brain storms all around...
Just talking to another few writers today and the subject of creativity came up. What is it? Who has it? Why? What is it for? Right brained people are more creative it seems.Take a little look at one guy "Mike" who wasn't given a second date, despite his comments to his ex potential life partner - that he used not only the left side of his brain, but also his right. Together at the same time. This piece of writing just shows you what can be achieved when both work together in harmony.
www.dailymail.co.uk
www.dailymail.co.uk
Brain storms all around...
Just talking to another few writers today and the subject of creativity came up. What is it? Who has it? Why? What is it for? Right brained people are brainer it seems.Take a little look at one guy "Mike" who wasn't given a second date, despite his comments to his ex potential life partner - that he used not only the left side of his brain, but also his right. Together at the same time. This piece of writing just shows you what can be achieved when both work together in harmony.
www.dailymail.co.uk
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Going Boldly
Wow, lots of nice fonts and colours and point size. Welcome to all The Write Space members who need to have a home of some sort and I suppose this is going to be it.
This blog will comprise of ramblings and lots of waffle inbetween some general observations on daily life that is as I like to live, outside the comfort zone. Which is like the new Goldilocks planet, neither, to hot nor too cold.
Going boldly...
This blog will comprise of ramblings and lots of waffle inbetween some general observations on daily life that is as I like to live, outside the comfort zone. Which is like the new Goldilocks planet, neither, to hot nor too cold.
Going boldly...
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