a little east of reality

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

seven minutes in ...heaven?

I'm trying to write a seven minute screenplay, draft due on Friday. I've had a few ideas ~ even one I like ~ but it's a real challenge to distill it down to the crucial elements so that it fits the time frame. I've watched a few short films now and it IS possible to tell an intriguing story in a few scenes.

What it ISN'T is easy.

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Monday, March 15, 2010

because there aren't enough happy endings

When I first saw this picture I was obviously horrified. Then I read the story.

Here's Chuanliu: a guy with two kids. He's a rickshaw driver in Beijing. His wife is mentally disabled and spends her days picking up trash on the road. She is unable to care for the child. They have a two year old that has to be somewhere during the day while Chuanliu's at work. He's a migrant worker, so he can't get child care assistance from the Chinese government. Whatever arrangements he had made previously failed, because the month before this photo was taken, his four-year-old daughter was stolen. He said:
My wife can't take care of him and I have to work to support my family. So I chain him to a pole when I have a fare. I don't even have a picture of my daughter to use for a missing-person poster. I cannot lose my son as well.
So what should he have done? And this is one reason I blogged this story. It was something to realise that there really might have been no good solution. He apparently doesn't have other family to rely on. I suppose his thinking was that if the boy at least stayed where he parks his rickshaw, then he would be able to check on him between fares. Though Lao Lu was chained (which makes sense, because a kidnapper could undo others bindings) he had mobility and relative safety (compared to being left alone able to wander away).

Am I saying it's okay? No. Of course it's not okay for a two-year-old to be chained to a pole while his father works. But at least in this crap heap of a situation, his father loves him. He just can't provide for him, though he's trying. Apparently he's been offered large sums of money (probably by a family who have a daugher and can't try for a boy ~ highly valued in Chinese culture ~ because of the one child policy) to give his son up for adoption and refused. Good for him. He needs help, not to lose his last child.

I imagine it must have been with some desperation that he came to this solution and it must have been humiliating to have someone take a picture of his son and expose their plight to the world. But a child care centre owner in Beijing saw the story and now Lao Lu will be in free child care for the next three years. May that person get twice the karma points they deserve. I wonder how many other centre owners read the story and just sat back and judged him as a bad parent.

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Sunday, March 14, 2010

randall...are you afraid of commitment?

Mouseover text: Using a ring to bind someone you covet into your dark and twisted world? Wow, just got the subtext there. Also, the apparently eager Beyonce would've made one badass Nazgul.

The kind of mind that connects Beyonce with Tolkien...guys like this give me such a heart on. (Just to clarify, I mean xkcd's Randall, not Sauron. Evil overlords are so emotionally manipulative.)

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Saturday, February 06, 2010


I quite like Clint Eastwood as a director, and he did a good job on this movie. It did gloss over Mandela's personal life (past infidelities and the like), only hinting at his problems. In one way this was a shame, because the contrast of his private weaknesses against his public successes would have made for an interesting study.
But the story it did tell was quite inspiring. Mandela had a choice when he took office. After 30 years in prison, some would have only been interested in revenge, but he recognised that this wasn't a useful approach. He showed compassion and fairness to the white minority who really didn't deserve it given their history. One of the symbols of that group was the Springbok rugby team and he engaged with the team, found ways to allow South African blacks to engage with them, too, in positive ways. And all of this leading up to the Rugby World Cup, which South Africa was hosting.
The title of the movie (which means 'unconquered') actually reflects an interesting choice, from the director and the writer. In the movie, just before the Cup, Mandela gives the Springbok captain Francois Pienaar a copy of a poem he says gave him hope while he was in prison. It's not bad either, as inspiring words go.
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

There's just one thing ~ that isn't what Mandela actually gave Pienaar. In real life, Mandela gave him an extract from Theodore Roosevelt's "The Man in the Arena" speech from 1910. The thing is, the extract is wonderful, and it's much more apt for a captain taking his team into the competition of their lives, with the country hanging on their success. The pressure must have been enormous, and they were copping constant flack in the media in the year leading up to the Cup. This is the extract:
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
Damn straight, Teddy. Wise words. I really wish they'd used it in the movie. Given how precariously Mandela risked failure in order to bring his country together at a crucial moment, I think that extract was the better choice.
Not sure if there's anyone out there still reading this blog after such a long break, but if so, what piece of writing do you find inspiring/motivating?

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Tuesday, October 27, 2009

antipodal blogging

Okay, as long as no-one on my blogroll has recently moved to Iceland, Northeast Canada or East Africa, I think I'm good.

'The fool' over at My Pet Shadow has tagged me (but this is not a meme) to be the next participant in his random (non-meme) post idea. :)

Here's how it works:

First, look through your blogroll and find the blogger whose location is the furthest from you on the globe. If your blog doesn't have a blogroll, then pick a blog you read regularly and use that one. Figure out the distance between your location and theirs in miles. Google can give you a bunch of links to sites that have a distance calculator. You'll need that distance to add to the running total.

Second, post it on your blog. Be sure to include:
1. A link to their blog.
2. The distance from your location to theirs.
3. Add that distance to the running total stated in the blog post that tagged you and list the new total.9,725
4. A link to the post in which you were tagged.

Third, let the other blogger know, via e-mail, a comment, carrier pigeon, or however else you communicate with others, that you've listed them as your faraway friend and let them know it's their turn. Be sure and let them know how this is supposed to work.

If it happens (and it's likely) that the person who tagged you is also the farthest from your location, go with the second farthest. No point in having you both post back and forth ad infinitum. Even though that would give you both something to post on those blocked days when your brain's gone dry, it would be just plain stupid.

In theory, people should be able to follow the path back to the origin (which is here) and forward to the latest.

So without further ado:

The blogger on my blogroll who's furthest away from me is bonnie over at frogma!

Being in New York, she is 16,233 km or 10,087 miles away from me.
That makes the running total: 19812 miles or 31884 km. (We've only just begun...)

Your turn, river rat! :)

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Saturday, October 17, 2009

why i like twitter

Pink: I'm watching this incredible show called "dinner for five" with Jon Favreau and its f*cking amazing!
Pink: If I were invited 2 this dinner, my guests would be Robert Downey Jr., Drew Barrymore, and Bette Midler. With myself and Jon Favreau. Weird.
Pink: Or Tim Robbins and Susan Sarandon.if u could have dinner (filmed) with 4 people-who would it be?
Pink: Is it too late to add Juliette Lewis, Kurt Russell and Goldie Hawn?
Rove1974: @Pink I was pretty busy anyway... ;)
Pink: @Rove1974 haha u suck. Let's film the next dinner! Ill wear a tu-tu.And floaties. Whatre u gonna wear? Can we do that on your show next time?
Rove1974: @Pink Two words: assless chaps.
Pink: @Rove1974 oooooh its recorded buddy!!! U just put that in writing!!!

amandapalmer: i love the cure
wilw: @amandapalmer The Cure are the soundtrack to the very best part of my teen years. I love them, too.
amandapalmer: @wilw i feel guilty. i saw them at coachella, ecstatic, & wrote a 2-page open letter to robert smith that i've yet to send.
amandapalmer: (and @lanceperkins just joined us by sending me a text saying I LOVE THE CURE MORE). we can all share the cure, lance.
wilw: @amandapalmer I'd be afraid to send it, to be honest. I mean, what if I wrote that letter, and he wasn't awesome back? I'd be *devastated*.
amandapalmer: @wilw you know, i felt that way at coachella. i purposely didn't want to meet him because i was so terrified i'd be disappointed.
amandapalmer: all this nonsense is making me feel like i must retrieve my robert smith letter out the drafts folder & fucking finish it. to the wine!
wilw: @amandapalmer I'm so relieved that I'm not the only one. I hear he's a wonderful person, but I'd be terrified to take a chance.

Edit: Later that night...
wilw: @amandapalmer ALL HAIL CAPSLOCK AND #LOFNOTC! Tonight's soundtrack, unsurprisingly, includes The Cure...

(By the way, that's 'Losers on Friday night on the computer'.)

I'll look forward to seeing Rove in assless chaps next time Pink is in town. Who would you be scared to write to in case they weren't as awesome as you hoped? I love The Cure, but Robert Smith isn't my guy.

This is a hard question for me, because I lost my awe back when I was 13. It was my first concert and the band was KISS. Literally larger than life in their platform boots and huge costumes and there was I, right up the front and completely starstruck. And then the wind kept blowing towards the stage. No matter how hard Ace and Paul tried to throw guitar picks into the crowd, they would keep blowing back onto the stage. At some point, Ace leaned over and made some comment about it that made Paul laugh and I suddenly thought, 'they're just people'. Oh.

I've admired people since then, I've crushed on people, but I don't think I ever again believed that someone was superhuman. Maybe David Bowie for a while, but that's different because clearly he was. :) But I'd hate to write to Edward Norton and find he wasn't as amazing as he seems. I'm definitely terrified to ever meet John Cusack in person, because then I'd have to face the fact that he probably wouldn't think I was awesome and need to hang out with me, which is a fantasy I'd like to keep hold of a while longer. :) I don't have to worry about Neil Gaiman, because I've met him eight or nine times now and he is very human and resoundingly awesome and that won't change. I've never met Viggo Mortensen, but I have this inexplicable certainty that he wouldn't disappoint me. I'd still expect too much of David Bowie, but I'm sure he's used to that. Even awesome people think he's awesome.

Norton it is then. I wonder if he Twitters...

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Wednesday, September 30, 2009


I've been reading on Craig's blog about an attempt to have September 30 declared International Blasphemy Day. While I don't have any particular drive to blaspheme :) what I do find important about the idea of the day is that blasphemy is a matter of offence, and the truth is that it is not at all difficult to offend other people. Pretty much any religious idea or statement about religious doctrine or practice, for or against, can be deemed blasphemous by someone else. It is the nature of such things that where beliefs differ, offence will occur. People, generally, are easily offended.

On 9 July 2009, a law was passed in Ireland making blasphemous libel a crime for material "that is grossly abusive or insulting in relation to matters held sacred by any religion, thereby causing outrage among a substantial number of the adherents of that religion; and he or she intends, by the publication of the matter concerned, to cause such outrage". Matters held sacred by any religion: can you see how easily (and inappropriately) that law could be deemed to have been broken?

Some time before the law was passed, a debate was held at the Guardian Hay Festival between Stephen Fry and Christopher Hitchens. It was a wonderful rambling conversation that examined many different issues relating to religion and blasphemy. The whole debate is 78min and can be downloaded here, but this nine or so minutes below is a good representation of the kind of points they make. It is not important whether you are religious or not, atheist (as they both are) or not, offended by what they say or not. I think this debate would be thought-provoking for anyone on the subject of blasphemy.

From blasphemyday.com:
The primary focus of the Blasphemy Day movement and indeed this website is not to debate the existence of any gods or deities...

The objective of International Blasphemy Day is to open up all religious beliefs to the same level of free inquiry, discussion and criticism to which all other areas of academic interest are subjected.
Without honest, open discussion religion can become a fence within which freedom of mind and will is contained and captured. Questioning, criticism, accountability, doubt ~ all are necessary and should remain legal. This is not to say that inciting any kind of action or violence against believers or non-believers is okay. Other laws govern that kind of action in many countries. But the right to think and express those thoughts, whether warped or wonderful, should be protected by society and its laws.

What do you think? Let me know what you think about the debate, too, if you end up listening to it. And in the spirit of the day, I have a recommendation for anyone who knows the Old Testament in the Bible. You don't have to love it or read it every day; you just need to be familiar with it. I'd like to recommend The FOB Bible. From the linked page:
The Old Testament re-imagined through poetry, verse, closet drama, e-mail, and short story. At once irreverent, whimsical, sexy, feminist, and poignant, this ain't your mama's Bible, and you sure didn't learn this in Sunday school.
I find this description apt. I like the way the pieces explore and question various ideas in the Bible, and without the need to come to any particular conclusion. Not only that, but it's really well-written. Here's one reading ~ it's a fun one and pretty much the only of the Youtube readings that isn't mumbled or otherwise inaudible (favourite line is when New Testament god 'whistled in disbelief and the air around him filled with tinkling bells and minty freshness'). I really wish the one about Abraham was there. I love that one. I also have no doubt that it, and several of the other pieces, would be labelled blasphemous by someone, because the authors dare to think and feel and bring new perspective to old words set in stone. Enjoy.

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Tuesday, September 22, 2009

so many draft posts, so little time

In the absence of a real post, here's a fun article for you. It's an exclusive interview with members of the 'real' global vampire community. I actually thought it was a parody at first, but apparently not. This first exchange I found interesting:
Q: What do you think is the largest major concern facing the modern vampire subculture?

A: I would say that currently, the largest concern and struggle for the modern vampire subculture is trying to solidify identity and structure for the various facets in the subculture.
Seriously? That's their greatest concern right now. As opposed to say, the fact that they are delusional? I guess that can be hard to spot from the inside.

On a more serious note, though, I wonder what it is in a person that causes them to 'awake' to the idea that they need to drink other people's energy or blood. I don't think it's an issue if their prey are willing (and there are people out there who willingly let others drink from them), but what intrigues me is the need to do it. Other rituals, like piercing and tattoos, other rites of belonging or passage, I can kind of grasp the reasons for them, but this one still floors me. And when someone simply believes they are a vampire, well yes, that speaks delusion to me. But delusions have a purpose and damned if I can even guess at this one...

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Sunday, September 13, 2009

officially mormon no more

I didn't make an appointment to see the bishop when I went to hand in my resignation letter. I'd had it sitting in my bag some time, not because I was hesitant, but because my writing group, which used to meet every second Sunday right across the street from the chapel, is now meeting elsewhere and I'm never in the area. Somehow today it felt necessary to have this decision, made a long time ago, finally actioned.

But he was in a meeting, and so I waited. Two wards meet in that chapel. I chatted with friends before they left for home and then sat alone for a while before new people started filtering in to attend the afternoon session. Just before the meeting started, one of my ex-seminary students came through with his family. Six** is a funny and deep-thinking kid (technically now a man, but young enough to be my kid, so whatever). I always wish I knew him better ~ he's just good value. He was probably surprised to see me there, given that he knew I had stopped attending back in January. He has his own issues and doesn't necessarily attend by choice. It's something we talked about a long time ago, when my mind was thick with doubt, but I wasn't yet talking to anyone else about it. I always felt bad for not telling him exactly how I felt at the time because I thought maybe he needed to hear that not being part of the church was a valid option, a choice he had a right to if he wanted it, and I don't know if I said it out loud to him like I should have. I think he knew I supported him no matter what, but I don't like not being open, especially when I trust the person I'm talking to.

I wanted the chance to talk to him and explain why I was there today, but the meeting was starting and he had to go inside. The ward was having their Primary presentation, an annual event where the Sacrament meeting ~ the music and talks, etc ~ are provided by the children in the ward under twelve. It was a little surreal. There I was, waiting just outside the chapel area where the meeting was happening, knowing that I was there to end my membership, all the while listening the children sing about eternal families and sharing the Gospel, etc. One talk featured a story about (ironically my favourite of the presidents of the church) Spencer Kimball telling a man whose many children were all active in the church and had all married in the temple (a special thing in the LDS church, with eternal blessings attached to it) that his was the greatest success story he had ever heard. Part of me felt sad because I taught in Primary for so many years and I still miss the kids I taught last year. But another part of me was responding to the memorised quotes and talks and songs by reflecting on how young the kids start learning that these things are truths and wondering what Six was thinking as he listened. Maybe he still had his headphones on and missed it all.

Finally the bishop was free. I explained why I was there, gave him my letter, and apologised for what I felt was probably an awkward meeting for him. I could tell he was holding in his emotions when he asked if this was a step I really wanted to take. I explained that I had made the decision over a long period of time and was sure it was what I wanted. I didn't explain much more, because I knew that everything I felt I needed to say was in the letter. Talking to him about it then would have put him on the spot; probably make him feel like he had to find the magic words that would fix my broken belief. He's a good guy; I didn't need to put him through that. He started to explain 'the process from here', but I stopped him to explain that actually the only part of the process that involved me was that they would send a letter later to confirm I was no longer considered a member and I was cool with that. Then I wished him and his family well and that was that.

It was so strange, driving away. In some ways this was such a small thing ~ a piece of paperwork to tie off a loose end that's been dangling for months. But in some ways it's huge. The LDS church is part of the culture I grew up in, has always been a massive part of my social network, and was a major influence in the forming of my core values. It took me a long time to stop attending, even after I felt I should (it's uncomfortable to be a non-believer in amongst all that certainty ~ I didn't realise how often it's stated/reinforced/implied/sung until I no longer felt the same) because I needed the time to say goodbye to it. I did do that, which is why I'm calm today. Way back when I first realised that I no longer believed Joseph Smith (founder) to be who he claimed to be, and knew immediately (because my mind always plays things out to their logical conclusion) that this would end with me leaving, I think I cried for about two weeks straight.

I got lucky on the way home. There was Six walking along and I offered him a ride. He didn't seem particularly surprised by my news, but then his mind was full of more pressing things. Actually I was glad to just leave it behind and focus on my conversation with him as we drove. He leads a busy life and I'm not sure how long it'll be before I catch up with him again.

To those who read this blog who are members, let me state for the record that I adore you and will still be happy to read about your church adventures and milestones and will never think you are silly to be LDS. This decision is not about me rejecting everything I ever learned at church. Maybe I would feel differently if my church experience had been more negative (and I acknowledge that for some there is a lot to be bitter about) but I was actually pretty lucky in the people I knew and worked with at church. I had amazing teachers who loved me unconditionally back when I was (I'm fairly sure) a complete snot. I still have wonderful church friends, some of whom I've known since my early teens.

I was actually warned that my family and friends might disown me if I left the church (by someone it happened to). My mother (the only active member in my family) and every friend I've told so far all reacted the same way ~ they were surprised/shocked, they told me that they would respect the decision (even if they felt it was a sad thing) and then we moved on. I'm sure at some point someone will react poorly and tell me it's a huge mistake or that I'm going to hell or something, but as long as my close friends and family are cool about it, I don't really care what anyone else says. I even had a few friends respond by telling me that they were also not attending church, or were experiencing serious doubts or, in one case, were also planning to leave. That was a surprise, but interesting.

And life travels on.

**(0:48-0:53 a reference Six will understand if I end up sending him a link to this post. :))

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Wednesday, September 09, 2009

number nine...number nine

Turn me on dead man. (That's what it says when you play it backwards.)

Okay so, in no particular order, nine things I'm grateful for at 9:09 on 09/09/09:

- the upcoming work conference that will allow me to visit my lovely friends in Brisbane for free
- friends who turn me onto excellent songs/bands
- the Guild. Geeky goodness for gamers. Actually gamewise I prefer Duke Nukem to World of Warcraft, but luckily a guy at work has overwhelmed me into a glazed stupor helpfully supplied me with WoW game information I have no use for but which now means I understand pretty much every game reference in the show.
- writing group, writing prompts, words in general
- current homestay student. Blueberry Boy is nice, independent, has a good sense of humour, can feed himself if left alone, occasionally cooks Japanese food for me too. Like tonight. Just a pleasure to live with and staying eight months...bonus!
- Youtube.
- People who take the time to provide English subtitles for the Japanese, German and Catalan stuff I like watching. (Anyone ever notice that gay couples in soap operas are not constantly cheating on each other like most soapie couples seem compelled to do? I think it's because the characters are less common and there's pressure from the fans to portray them well and in functional relationships. Anyway, makes for excellent, not-tearing-one's-hair-out viewing. Brooke Logan-Forrester-Marone is so ridiculous I want to break things when she's on the screen and it's been at least ten years since I watched an episode of that soap.)
- So You Think You Can Dance? US, Canada and Australia. That show has attracted some fantastic, creative choreographers.
- my new Doc Marten shoes

I wonder what this list will look like by 10/10/10...


Wednesday, August 26, 2009

and canberra gets even more boring...

Canberrans will no longer be able to enjoy fireworks over the Queen's Birthday long weekend. Industrial Relations Minister John Hargreaves today announced the permanent ban on the importation, sale and use of fireworks in the ACT.
We got two evenings, from 5-9pm over one long weekend, in the middle of Canberra's soul-sucking winter, to buy and use fireworks. It was something actually cool about Canberra, because fireworks are illegal everywhere else in Oz. Now I'll have to wait for my next trip to Japan to play with fireworks. :(
"The Government understands that many Canberrans will still have fireworks that were bought legally on previous Queen's Birthday long weekend. We will be encouraging people to do the right thing and hand in any stored fireworks for safe disposal without any questions asked."
Yeah. That's going to happen.

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Tuesday, August 25, 2009

blonde jokes are usually kinda silly

But this one made me laugh. :)


On their honeymoon, the blonde bride slipped into a sexy nightie and, with great anticipation, crawled into bed, only to find her new Catholic husband had settled down on the couch.

When she asked him why he was apparently not going to make love to her, he replied, 'It's Lent'.

In tears, she sobbed, 'That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! Who did you lend it to, and for how long?'


Saturday, August 08, 2009

ink notes #2: the tipping point

Here's my entry for ink notes #2.

This was the music prompt. Go here if you want all the info on how the challege works. If you like writing - poetry, short fiction, whatever - come on in, the water's fine. :) I'm actually a bit late with this one, so here's the link to the current challenge. My entry for that will be along shortly.

The Tipping Point

Gio crept into the house, cursing silently at the huge click as he shut the door. What was the opposite of ‘ninja’? This was the craziest damn plan now that he was putting it into action, but when she had given him that soft, hopeful look in the car it had felt like the only possible course. Just thinking about her now he could feel his heartbeat slowing. She calmed him, that sweet brown-haired girl.

He moved easily down the empty, carpeted hallway. No toys left out from play, no small, haphazard shoes sprawled across Janine’s perfect space. She had no tolerance for such things. God she could be cold. It firmed his resolve, pushed him past her sleeping form in their bed and on to the waiting chest of drawers.

It didn’t take him long to fill the overnight bag. He couldn’t tell in the dark what matched and didn’t, but Bron didn’t care what he wore anyway. He risked another minute of potential discovery sneaking into the en suite for a few toiletries; even managed one of the pillows from his side of the bed. Janine muttered a little in her sleep, but didn’t wake. He left as stealthily as he’d come, but the air tasted like freedom when the door clicked again with him outside and walking away.

Thirty minutes later they were on the Kings Highway heading East with a full tank and way too many snacks. They’d gotten Bron’s gear earlier before the stealth mission to his place. She was singing along with the radio, mostly getting the words wrong but her voice was pretty. Goofy girl. She’d changed everything – everything – and she didn’t even know it. He could see her eyes were heavy with not enough sleep and he reached into the back seat for the pillow.

‘Tuck it between you and the window. I know it’s awkward with your seatbelt on, but if you put the seat back a little you might get comfy enough to sleep.’

As she shifted around, still singing softly, he tried to focus on the road. In the back of his mind the realisation of what had really just happened was building with each extra kilometre he put between himself and Janine. By the time he hit Braidwood he knew for sure that the next time he went back to the house it would be to collect the rest of his things. He’d left his wife tonight. He couldn’t quite take it in, but looking over at his daughter sleeping in the seat next to him, he couldn’t regret it either.

When Bronwyn’s mother had found him, let him know that he had a six year old, Janine had accepted it…but not gracefully. She didn’t want her in their house. He could be a father if he wanted to, as long as it didn’t impact on her orderly life.

Bron stirred, stared out into the darkness still half asleep. ‘Daddy, are there really going to be kangaroos right on the beach?’

He grinned. This was the tale of wonder that had them both begging her mother to let them take off on this crazy midnight run to the coast; the roos that came in droves down to Pebbly Beach in the early morning.

‘There really are. I called ahead and they’re all quite eager to meet you.’

She giggled sleepily. ‘Kangaroos don’t have phones.’

No, he thought, but I have you. The fallout I’ll deal with later.

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Friday, July 31, 2009

surrender, to the meme

This fun little meme comes via Amanda.

Introducing my new book cover! (Fake, of course...) Make your own, using the following directions:

1 – Go to “Fake Name Generator” or click http://www.fakenamegenerator.com/
The name that appears is your author name.

2 – Go to “Random Word Generator” or click http://www.websitestyle.com/parser/randomword.shtml
The word listed under “Random Verb” is your title.

3 – Go to “FlickrCC” or click http://flickrcc.bluemountains.net/index.php
Type your title into the search box. The first photo that contains a person is your cover.

4 – Use Photoshop, Picnik, or similar to put it all together. Be sure to crop and/or zoom in.

5 – Post it to your site along with this text.

I like this picture and I liked finding out about Picnik, which I'll be using again. The word 'surrender' was already on the picture. I just cropped, recoloured slightly, and added the name. I'm glad that was the first pic with a person in it, as the second was soldiers. I'm not sure it came out as cool as my fake album cover, but interesting nonetheless.