Ok ladies, here he is.
Actually, he’s a girl puppy, and that’s an ugg boot, and my very beautiful daughter would be horrified to see this pic on here, sans makeup, and seriously needing to stand a lot closer to a hairbrush.
And her name is Scruffy. Not my daughter, the dog. Thank goodness for punctuation. ( Not my daughter the dog? )
Actually my daughter calls her Sooky, but I call her Scruffy, and so do the ladies in every opshop between Tuncurry and Urunga, but that’s another story. Anyway, give me your favourite punctuation mistake.
Maybe I should have said “your most colourful punctuation mistake”, then all you Americans would have thought I’d made TWO spelling mistakes, but that’s another story too. So many stories… someone should write some of them…
Chook struts to waterbowl, pauses, looks at water… head turns half away… Moves off… pecks at nothing, feigns another peck, pecks again…
Man watches all through shadecloth screened dunny door, sees iron lacework, recently invented shadecloth, lazy stillness of spring… he shits…. Feels time stretched all ways… life moves… somewhere…
Is the story on the water, under it, in it ?
Is the story the water itself, or how it got there ?
Is the story the reflections on the surface, the ripples sent out by the crazy old man, the good times shared by three generations of family as we drank coffee we made with the water ? What’s the story ?
I was planning to write about how food is food, and packaged shit is packaged shit, and writing is writing, and most of what seems to pass for writing is now actually packaged shit too, but then I realised that there now seems to be more writing about how to write than there is actual good writing, and actually this is just more regurgitated packaged shit, so Shut The Fuck Up Me.
Nice food though. Not for thought. Just for eating. Nom Nom Nom Fucking Nom. Whatever.
Ok, so, let’s say you’re writing a story whose protagonist is kinda nuts… is it helpful to take on an appearance that may suit such a character ? Or to act the way he or she does, sometimes, but in your own life… And how far should you take it ? Like a method actor, but for writers instead.
Unless you’re writing about serial killers… but then again, maybe the appearance at least ?
Or is there just no excuse to wander around looking like the, umm, Thing in the photo ?
Yes, that’s a little knife he’s holding. Yes, that’s pieces of kangaroo he’s been cutting up with it.
Yes, that’s his axe you see behind him, and yes, in his late 70s he’s still cutting all his own firewood plus enough for a neighbouring family.
(No, my American friends, the u in neighbouring is not a spelling mistake, and neither are most of what you might think of as my spelling mistakes, it’s the correct spelling in English, as used in pretty much every English speaking country in the world except yours, but that’s a subject for another day)
The life of the old guy in the photo is the basis for much of the best and truest and most meaningful fiction I will write. But I really want to do justice to it, so I decided to write two other novels first, hoping to learn how it’s done.
But… I’d really like the old guy in the photo to read some of that future work, and given the nature of ageing, and also the mad bugger’s propensity for high risk behaviours, I sometimes wonder if I should maybe write some of the stuff based on him first. Waddayareckon ?
Page somethingorother, Touched with Fire by Kay Redfield Jamison.
So last night I wrote a suicide note. which is a bastard of a thing to tell people, although, fairly obvously, if you are now reading about it….. etc etc.
I’ve been Not Very Well in the Head lately, always happens for me this time of year, quite normal and nothing I can’t handle.
So I’ve been trying to get some writing done, and had this great idea to take advantage of it and write a suicide note one character may or may not end up writing in my FWIP. It turned out pretty well I think. Well it upset me a lot anyway. Anyway, there is a point to this stupid post.
Just having a problem spelling it out somehow.
Is it worth it, writing crazy shit when you’re not right, and it might make you worse ? Or should someone like me not write about anyone like me ?
Or, whatever, make up a better question and give me an answer, I’m a fucking moron to be writing this, I’ll probably be in the shit with everybody who knows me for doing it anyway, or maybe not, I don’t know, I’m pretty big and old and ugly now, maybe people realise I can look after myself and I might just be trying to find an answer to something. I suppose if it bothers anyone I could do a post about fluffy bunnies next.
Of course, those bastards, or mechanical versions of them anyway, have been known to inflict certain injuries of their own. 33 years ago today in fact. Fuck them.
Can anyone believe how much I rant, considering I don’t even drink ? Almost seems like I should start, just to have an excuse.
Anyway, if anyone has any sort of answer to any of those questions half way down this rambling pile of shit, I’d love to hear it.
This is my dad. He turned 78 the other day. He wasn’t quite sure how old he was, so I told him. 78 like an old record. If I tell you about all his injuries you’ll think this is a story with one of those unreliable narrators. So I’ll only tell you a few.
He’s had 7 broken legs, a fractured skull, broken bones in his back and neck, and lost an eye. Last year he built a house for someone cos they needed some help.
He lives alone on 1,000 acres of land with no electricity, and drinks the water he collects out of the same dam his horses drink from.
Recently a bloke who owed him money “paid” him with a chainsaw instead of cash because the bloke had no money. The chainsaw turned out to be useless, a cracked block in the engine. Worthless.
So on my dad’s 78th birthday, he went into the town for some groceries, and the bloke was there. So my old man walks over and tells this bloke he’s not happy, and he’ll be expecting the money, and he can have his worthless chainsaw back. Now, this bloke’s about 50. And he calls my old man a prick, which is not very nice for one thing, and not very fair for another. Are you worried yet ?
My dear old dad had a triple bypass about 12 years ago, and his good eye’s not what it was, and he gets upset when people do the wrong thing. So at this point my old man…
Hey, I know. This is where I write tune in next week, for the next exciting instalment of….
Oh, alright then, my poor defenseless 78 year old dad punches the bloke out. One punch. Goodnight. Cranky old bugger. But that bloke should have had more sense. I can look after myself a bit, but I wouldn’t be silly enough to piss him off.
So now he’s been charged with creating a public nuisance or some such shit, which they used to call affray, and basically means fighting in the street.
Well, you know what… he was already my hero, but now I know what I wanna do before I grow up. On my 78th birthday, I’m gonna go looking for some idiot who should know better than to pick on old men, and I’m gonna keep up a fine family tradition, and get myself arrested. What do you wanna do to celebrate your 78th birthday ?
I guess not everyone can have a Big Life, be a main character. I guess some people just don’t want to live that much trouble.
Is a main character’s pain worth it ? Which character have you been up to now ? Which character are you going to be ? And why do I always leave a space before a question mark ?