Today's entry to the A-Z Blogging Challenge is, I'm afraid to say, a complete cop out. Today's G is for...
Fishing in a pool of creativity, that is. Ahem.
I was originally going to do today's post on Glasgow, since that's where I'm from, but my muse has struck me over the head with his mallet, and dragged me by the hair to his cave of ideas.
I have to do everything he says, or else.
Back with you all on Monday. Have a glorious weekend, everyone. x
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Fiona
gazed into the crystal ball, willing it to give her good news. She
watched the psychic's hand roam over the globe; the old lady had a
feather tattoo on her middle finger, which waved and fluttered with
every movement.
“You're
a pretty lady,” the psychic observed, “I sense heartache.”
“Yes.”
Fiona whispered, her heart racing. She'd just broken up with Frank
Fitzgerald that day, after he'd taken that job at McDonald's. She'd
been mortified when she heard. I can't go out with someone who works
there!
“You
will meet someone, very soon. His name starts with J,” she glared at
Fiona, cautious, “you may not have chemistry straight away, but
persevere. This man will make all your dreams come true.”
“My
God, is he rich?” she squeaked, all thoughts of Frank vanished.
The
psychic smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes. “Persevere.”
Fiona
thanked the woman and left, her heart bursting with optimism. As she
approached her beat-up, old car, she began rummaging through her bag
for the keys.
“Excuse
me, do you have change for the parking meter please?” A tall,
gangly man stood in front of her, waving a £5 note. He stank of B.O
and his face was scarred with acne.
Repulsed,
she replied, “I don't, sorry.”
“Thanks
anyway.” he said, folding the note back into his wallet. His drivers
licence poked out from one of the slots, and Fiona's eyes clamped on
it in shock.
“Your
name is... James?”
“Yes.
Do we know each other?” His glassy blue eyes slithered over her
face, looking for recognition. Her flesh crawled.
Persevere.
“Let
me check my car, I may have change in there,” she retrieved coins
from her glove compartment, “here,” she giggled, letting her hand linger in his.
“Thanks!” Blushing, he smiled, flashing his decayed, rotten teeth at her.
As
he turned to leave, she yelped, “Wait! So... what brings you to the
Psychic Centre anyway, are you having a reading?”
“Oh
no,” he laughed, “my Aunt is in there. I said I'd pick her up, but
I'm an hour early!”
“Perfect,”
she gasped. This is fate, “would you like to go for a coffee?”
And
so it began. Coffee turned into a whirlwind romance, and they were
married within three months. They lived in his mother's converted loft,
and he continued to repulse her daily, but she just kept telling
herself: Bide your time. It will pay off in the end.
She
continued this mantra for the next ten years, distracting herself with visions of a fancy house, a fleet of sports cars and all the jewellery she could ever want.
Three
kids and five stone later, she'd resigned herself to the fact the
psychic was wrong. Her husband still only worked part-time at the
local pharmacy, and she still had the same beat-up old car from when
they met.
One
day, James burst into the house, in tears, “My poor Auntie Florence
has died!”
Fiona
feigned sympathy, but she had a good feeling about this. Maybe she
was wealthy. “Florence? I don't recognise that name. Have I met this aunt?”
“She's
the reason we met,” he sniffed, “she was the Aunt I picked up at
the Psychic Centre. She couldn't make the wedding though, she was in Monaco at the time.”
Fiona's
heart raced. It was destiny.
It
was the first open-casket funeral she'd been too. Aunt Florence was
decked out in jewels that sparkled from the entrance to the parlour.
As she got closer, Fiona's excitement diminished. The jewellery was
fake. It was all plastic, costume jewellery.
Then
she noticed the feather.
It
lay still now; etched onto the cold, dead finger of the woman who
promised her a life of riches, ten years previously.
Back at home, Fiona was half-way through her daily bottle of vodka,
when James came off the phone with an announcement to make.
“I've
been offered the assistant team manager's job at McDonald's. Apparently
the last guy won the lottery yesterday. £83 million he won, the
lucky sod! He came from your old area, do you know him? Frank
Fitzgerald?”
The End.
I hope you enjoyed that! :)
Today's F music video is dedicated to Fats Domino. I think this is what Frank would sing to Fiona, don't you?
In September last year, I listed my expectations for my first novel; one that I was yet to begin writing:
My extensive research suggests the average book is between 90,000 and 120,000 words, so here is my own little plan:
Aim for 70,000 words for my first draft
Take a few weeks off, and prepare for Xmas break.
2 tear-inducingly blissful weeks off work, to be spent working on 2nd draft.
I hope to bulk up to 90k + words during this time. Once I've got that out of the way, I'll look into critiquing and getting a few objective readers arranged, but first things first... the planning stage!
I know what you're thinking... it's time for another Face Palm.
I'm going to dismiss my naivety as over-eagerness to thrust myself into Authordom. I'm not knocking it, but this is what happens when you are seduced by NaNoWriMo: you're surrounded by hundreds of thousands of writers who don't bat an eyelid at pouring out a 50k novel in 30 days.
What with my obsession for goal-setting, my attempt to run before I could walk was inevitable.
Thus, today's post is dedicated to E for Expectations, and what my new expectations are.
I did get to the 50k mark by the end of November, but I'll tell you something: about 5% has made it into my current WIP.
Currently, I only have one expectation:
Put the hours into my novel, and don't even look at that word count. It'll be done when it's done, 'orite?
Please don't mistake this new attitude for apathy. I'm very optimistic about this outlook! Coupled with my enforced-discipline-writing-schedule, I'm positive I'll get to where I want to be, in a time-frame I'm happy with.
And I'll be sure to keep you updated along the way of course!
Please share your expectations with me: how long do you normally take to write your novels? Have you set yourself goals for the week/month/year?
Today's E music video is Enter Shikari's "Arguing With Thermometers". Ugh... TUNE! Enjoy :)
Affirmation without discipline is the beginning of delusion Jim Rohn
The quote above really resonates with me: Until I basque in the glow of WIP completion (and publication), I shall remain paranoid that my dreams, nay, my life's ambition, is all just a fancy notion in my head.
Thus, today I shall write aboutDiscipline as part of today's A-Z Blog Challenge.
Recently, I've been making an effort to implement proper discipline into my writing. I don't profess to be an expert in the art of discipline, but I thought I'd share a new method I'm trying out with you, in the form of a spreadsheet. Observe:
As you can see, I've included a wee paraphrase from Jim Rohn again: Suffer the pain of discipline, or suffer the pain of regret!
I've grouped my spreadsheet into 14 days, with the intention of clocking up 30 hours dedicated to writing. I chose a 14-day window, personally, as 7 days didn't show enough progress, but 1 month would've been too overwhelming.
The time slots are dictated by various factors: Working hours (you'll see the weekends have more hours allocated), family commitments, dentist/doc appointments, etc. Anything that prevents me from sitting at my writing desk is taken into consideration.
I can see the flaws in the spreadsheet already, but this is good. This gives me scope to improve on it. I like flaws: the recognition of them, to me, indicates growth.
The biggest issue I have is definition: What do I consider "Writing"? A lot of those hours have consisted of WIP research and writing for this blog (and my food blog). Whilst they're all loosely connected, I would prefer those 30 hours to be more concentrated on the actual writing of fiction.
So, by the time the next 14-day block comes along, I'd like to have more specific instructions for my "work on" section. Does anyone have any tips? They'd be much appreciated!
Today's music video is dedicated to a genre of music I've really gotten into over the last year or so. It is D for Dubstep.
If you're planning on doing some housework, or excersize, crank this up to full volume and enjoy.
I'm rather obsessed with the idea of perfecting my writing craft. If I'm not listening to podcasts on writing, I'm researching writing excersizes and printing off the ones I like most.
I thought I'd share some of my favourite ones with you today.
First up is a podcast from the Warwick University Writing Programme. I love how David Morley (the director and speaker) talks in depth about each of the areas of creative writing, before setting out the challenges, which include: Conflict and Crisis, Points of View and Murdering your darlings. Have a gander by clicking here.
Next is a website called Story Is Promise. The author, Bill Johnson, says "many writers who struggle and get rejected--myself included--fail because they
violate the same foundation issues of storytelling" and he provides an Index of Essays dedicated to exploring these issues. It's really interesting; click here to have a peek.
PoeWar has a list of excellent writing excersizes. Their outlook: "Writing exercises are a great way to both increase your skill as a writer and to generate new ideas for future work. They can also give you a new perspective on your current project." If you're feeling uninspired, look at these Fifteen Writing Excersizes. If you're looking to give your main character a bit of misery, read How to create fictional characters using adversity.
Last (but not least) is one of my favourite writing podcasts: Bailey's Writing Tips. Morgen Bailey is fiercely passionate about the writing craft, which you can tell by her schedule: This lady breathes writing. I especially love listening to the author interviews, where the craft of writing is often discussed at length. Find out more about the podcasts here.
Have you any websites/podcasts you'd like to add to the table? Come on... feed my obsession!
Today's C Music Video is dedicated to Carmen, the opera. I remember being taken to see Carmen in primary school, and absolutely loved it. Enjoy!
In fiction, there's nothing more satisfying than reading the part where the baddie gets some serious payback for the suffering they've caused. It leaves the reader going a bit like this...
...closely followed by a mental victory lap.
In order to get that feeling of justice, you first need to have a serious cretin in your midst. This is why today's A to Z Blogging Challenge is dedicated to Baddies.
We need them in our lives. Just don't tell the brutes; it simply wont do to make an unsavoury character feel appreciated.
Who's your favourite fiction baddie? I have to say, mines is Olivia Foxworth from Virginia Andrews's Flowers In The Attic. She was a rancid maggot, wasn't she? Not only did she lock her grandchildren (whom she lovingly referred to as "The Devil's Spawn") in the attic for several years, she poured hot tar over poor Cathy's hair and conspired with their own mother to kill them!
Oh, she's a sinister swine! Can you think of a worse one? Do share :)
I'd also like dedicate the word B, today, for Bagpipes. Perhaps it's all this tartan blood running through my veins, but I just absolutely adore the sound of them, especially accompanied by a snare drum.
Here's a video-clip of The Yeah Yeah Yeahs performing with a bagpipe band, at a music festival I attended three years ago. It gave me goosebumps at the time and has the same effect today. Stunning. Enjoy!
For many years, I spent my life accepting everything at face value. I celebrated things like Valentines Day, Pancake Day, Halloween, even Christmas, without questioning how they all came about. Those days are gone, my friend! Now I question everything to death. I even questioned why I started questioning everything to death (I know... there is no hope). I figure it could be because:
I'm a writer now; this is what I do.
I studied philosophy last year, which introduced me to the world of Critical Thinking.
I've simply become a cynical, bitter old swine, who trusts no-one.
I'm suffering from some kind of disease that's mentally reverting me back to my toddler years.
Fitting, really, that I start my A-Z Blogging Challenge, then, with a little piece on the origin of April Fools Day. This is another thing that escaped questioning. I merely laughed at all the funny pranks and winced at all the (completely unfunny) "I'm pregnant" announcements. According to Wikipedia: In the Middle Ages, New Year's Day was celebrated on March 25 in most European towns. In some areas of France, New Year's was a week-long holiday ending on April 1. Many writers suggest that April Fools originated because those who celebrated on January 1 made fun of those who celebrated on other dates. The use of January 1 as New Year's Day was common in France by the mid-16th century, and this date was adopted officially in 1564.
New Years Day used to be March 25? I was not aware of that. To be fair, this could be common knowledge: I'm not really up to speed with general knowledge either...
What's the funniest April Fools Hoax you've ever played/had played on you? Go on... fill my page with hilarity! For all you music lovers out there, here's a song from Arctic Monkeys: Settle for a draw. This was a B side track to "When The Sun Goes Down" in 2006 and should have been brought out as a single in it's own right. Sigh.
Probably a good time to tell you, I used to be obsessed with this band. Enjoy!
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