Friday, April 30, 2010

Midnight Workings Weather Down The Story Line

Firstly, thanks to whoever left me the formspring comment about some bad grammar in an excerpt of my first unpublished book. It was an honest mistake that I can only attribute to the dialect in the area that I live, because when it was pointed out I already knew it was wrong and I am subsequently kicking myself in the teeth about it. So whoever you are, many thanks. If anyone else sees any such error, please do tell me.

My intentions for today are to clean the kitchen up a bit, figure out what to cook for dinner and then make a start on uploading photos of my mother's jewellery to her site. If I have any time, I may attempt to write a piece of flash fiction. One of the lovely people that follow my facebook fan page has provided a statement for me to base it on. It's much nicer to get statements from other people because it feels so much more communal. I like getting people involved, too. There's also the fact that when other people provide me with statements, they're usually statements that provoke writing from me that I wouldn't normally consider scribing. This, in itself, is fantastic because it makes me broaden my writing horizons. I love new challenges where my writing is concerned. One of the most recent challenges I faced, whilst finishing off Secrets, was that I'd never written a proper battle scene before and the last few chapters required this. I don't mind telling you that it really worried me. They were critical scenes and I didn't want to get them wrong. Around the same time, however, I noticed a post show up on my blogroll at the side. The post was from the This Business Of Writing blog and it was a how to on writing battle scenes. I may not have used everything it said, but it did help me to make sense of how I was going to sort out the scene. I figured out a basic choreography for it - who was injured, what their injuries were and when they received the injuries during the battle.

What made my battle particularly difficult, however, was that it had been foreseen by another character. She'd witnessed deaths in her vision and so I had to get these events in exactly the right place, making sure that the right characters were in the right place too! You could say that this was a bit ambitious for my first real battle scene, but somehow it worked. Admittedly, the scene still needs a bit of editing to polish it up, but I'm incredibly happy with what I managed to achieve. I think it managed to flow well and it got all of the correct bits in.

It may be slightly obvious that I get carried away when discussing how writing a scene has gone, especially if it's gone particularly well. My favourite anecdote about my writing at the moment is that I managed to make Andrew queasy when he was reading a torture scene. If I can make it realistic for a reader, then I feel as if I've done well.

Speaking of realism, I had a very realistic dream in amongst other dreams. For a short while after I woke up, I was under the impression that the dream was real, which is dreadfully upsetting because I'd dreamt something that I wish with all of my heart and for a couple of moments I felt thoroughly happy. Don't you just hate it when those things happen? I really do.

(Lyrics in the title are from Wonder by Megan McCauley)

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

A Political Kerfuffle

Conservatives or Lib Dems? That seems to be pretty much the only two of the three large parties left. My friend, Natalie Powell, put it perhaps more aptly, "The only way Labour could win now is if Gordon was assassinated."

Basically, I got downstairs to find my dad laughing, today. He told me that Gordon Brown (that's our current Prime Minister and Labour leader) had shot himself in the foot. Now. my dad is a pretty big Labour supporter, so for him to say that is a huge thing. We argue about politics a lot. He's one of the reasons why I said I wasn't going to vote. I get bored of the arguments. To be perfectly honest, this has made me want to vote, though. And I'm pretty sure that vote will be for David Cameron (Conservative leader). Not only will this irritate my dad quite a lot, but I've been leaning that way a long time. I don't care what the Conservatives did in the past and quite frankly I don't think they did that badly anyway. It's what they'll do now that bothers me.

Anyway, to return to the story...

Gordon Brown was doing his campaign thing and got into a discussion with this old woman, Gillian Duffy (a 66 year old widow). If I'm completely honest, she seemed like one of those fairly bossy types that's used to telling people what to do and getting her own way. Either way, I wouldn't have described her as the Prime Minister did. He was perfectly kind to her on the street. He answered her questions and even managed to convince her to vote Labour again (she was a lifelong Labour supporter) and then he got into his car. This is where the trouble started for Mr Brown. As much as it also makes me laugh at the fact that it really is a huge fail totally worthy of the 'ph' spelling that you normally only give to noobs on forums, it is actually quite serious in the grand scheme of things for Mr Brown.

He forgot that he was wearing his microphone.

If you're in a political campaign and you forget you're wearing a microphone: it is not a good thing... especially when you make the remarks that Gordon has made. This a transcript: "That was a disaster - they should never have put me with that woman. Whose idea was that? It's just ridiculous..." He gets asked what she'd said. "Ugh everything! She's just a sort of bigoted woman that said she used to be Labour. I mean it's just ridiculous. I don't know why Sue brought her up towards me." You don't have to believe what I've written, though, because there's a youtube video below which shows the moment that it was played back to him on the BBC's radio show. You can even see him put his head in his hands and I bet you he wanted to groan something along the lines of, "Oh god..."

He called the woman to apologise (this was probably around the time that I was watching an interview with Nick Clegg, the Lib Dem leader, on his thoughts about the matter - he seemed pretty amused but as if he was trying to be serious). She'd said she wouldn't vote for anybody after hearing his remarks in the car about her. Of course, the apology over the phone didn't work so he turned up at her house and stayed inside for 45 minutes. My friend commented that the old woman had probably knifed him or similar. At one point I said that he was coming out, then tried to rectify that in case she thought I meant he was gay whilst she asked whether he was alive or in a body bag. As you may realise, this has caused us intense amusement.

Gordon Brown came out of the house smiling and said that he'd apologised, was 'penitent', she'd accepted and then he practically ran away. It was quite funny. I've personally never seen him move so fast. Shortly afterwards, one of the Labour press officers came outside and told the reporters that Mrs Duffy wanted them off her driveway and that she'd said she wasn't going to talk to them. The press asked him if she'd accepted Gordon Brown's apology and the guy said he didn't know.

Anyway, this is my amusement for the day. Feel free to tell me what your views are.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

We'll Collect The Moments One By One

Andrew has made me a new book cover to go with the recently finished Secrets. It looks wonderful in my opinion. In fact, I think it's my favourite of the covers that he's made so far. It's below if you want to see it. Feel free to comment on it here or go to my facebook page and give your say there.

Secrets is the third (as of yet unpublished) installation in my Jocasta Lizzbeth Moonshadow series. Andrew's read it so I'll let you read what he said about it:
"Secrets, the third instalment of the currently-unpublished (somehow) Jocasta Lizzbeth Moonshadow series, continues the storyline of Jocasta, a third-year at a magical high-school, her fellow pupils, her teachers and her enemies, as they set to wage war on each other. The book contains elements of romance, fantasy, horror, drama, and a fantastically written action scene towards the end which brings about the culmination of the aspects of the plot developed specially for this instalment (while furthering aspects such as relationships and other events seen throughout the series as a whole). It was by quite a way the most enjoyable instalment of the series yet, truly saying something considering how well I thought of its predecessors, and was a brilliant showcasing of its writer’s, Rebecca Clare Smith’s, talents."
- Andrew S.R. McCluskey [Musings]

In other news, I heard my mother downstairs when I got up today. My mum is usually at work at that time. I've grown to recognise that whenever she comes home early from work it means that there is something very wrong. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that it frightens me a little bit. She suffers from depression which is brought on by stress at work... It worries me a lot. I don't like the idea that my mum gets increasingly upset and stressed and can't talk to me about it; though, I realise that's unfair as I don't talk to her about my problems. I have no need to; I know how she'd react to most of them. I just worry about her a lot. I don't want her to fall apart again.

This is where my younger brother steps in to be his duly unhelpful and nasty self. We wanted to print some business cards off for her jewellery venture (I think this was more her trying to distract herself from how she was feeling) but, of course, the printer needs to be set up to the new network that we're on. We are not the most electronically able pair. Ergo, we asked my brother to help. What did this produce? Nothing but abusive language, door slamming and my mother getting upset. One day, he and my eldest brother will both get a slap in the face and wake up from their selfish ways. 

(Lyrics in the title are from Mushaboom by Feist)

Waking Up Without You Is Like Drinking From An Empty Cup

Social media turns people into neurotic stalking messes - most especially if you're in a relationship with someone or wanting to be with someone or just checking someone out that you met at some point in time. Everything connects to everything. Twitter, facebook, myspace, msn and bebo have all joined hands in a circle around you, whispering everything that everyone else is doing. Most of the time, you really couldn't care but now and again you start sneaking glimpses of a particular person's life because you're interested in someone. Social media, in general, just makes you neurotic and paranoid. At this minute, I am, indeed, feeling neurotic and paranoid and am desperately trying not to be. The thing is that I can't really tell anyone that I am this neurotic mess because they can't do anything for me except pat me and tell me it'll be fine or tell me I'm wasting my time. Tonight isn't over yet, but I don't think this guy is bothered at all about seeing me. He's been on msn for ages, said nothing and disappeared. Admittedly, I didn't open a conversation, but I knew he was there. Somewhere in my neurotic mind, a little voice piped up and said, "You don't want to seem like you're stalking him or trying to push him! Maybe he's changed his mind!" This is probably likely judging by recent behaviour, but hey. I guess I'd rather know for certain than just keep these thoughts running around in my head.

So what if I didn't want a date with him at first? He's the first guy I've kissed since my ex. I think I was allowed to be a bit confused and muddled. Incidentally, I dreamt about the ex a couple of night's ago. In the dream, I saw his dad go into The Buck (a pub in my town) and then he left to go down the street. So I followed him. I don't even know why I was following him in the dream except that it felt as if I was supposed to be doing it and as if my ex knew I was there and was purposefully leading me somewhere. He took out his keys to open the door of this house and made a movement for me to follow, but I woke up. I don't know what that has to do with anything that's going on at the minute. Maybe it just means that I should stop thinking about him. It's not as if I even stalk him or look him up on facebook or anything. I don't. Sometimes I think about him, though. I can't help it. I have a memory like a video recorder; everything is in perfect detail. I even know the smells, textures and tastes of things. And, trust me, good memory like that is an absolute curse some days. I mean, as much as I loved the look he gave me, I don't want to remember it in perfect detail and I certainly don't want to be reminded how much it made me hold my breath and wish that it could be forever.

I don't even remember holding my breath.

But enough of that. We shan't go back there.

Anyhow, I am indeed annoyed with this guy. I'd like to know what's going on. That's all. I think I deserve that much. Still, I'll give him until the end of tomorrow (which is now today I suppose) to speak to me. Then we'll see. I'll try not to hold my breath and just hope that the impression I got was wrong.

(Lyrics in the title are from The Animal Were Gone by Damien Rice)

Monday, April 26, 2010

It's Easier To Tease

I haven't written in here for a few days. To be honest, that's because nothing really exciting has happened to me. I had an interview for a job last Saturday, though. If I get the job then they're calling me today. If not then I won't get a call. I really hope I do. I'd quite like to learn how to make pastry - the job is at Woodhead's which is a bakery and a cafĂ© all in one. They want someone who can make pastry or is willing to learn. I'm definitely willing to learn. I think it would be quite nice to learn how to make pastry. Hopefully they'll choose me, but if not I'll just keep applying to places.

Other than that, I've pretty much been doing nothing. I keep meaning to write but I've really not been in the mood and when I'm not in the mood I find that I distract myself an awful lot. I've also been rather confused over this guy, as well. He came on msn and spoke to me to apologise for not going out... but it still says I'm not on his contact list, which is bizarre because I have to be or he can't start a conversation with me. Right? Anyway, he text me at 4am yesterday when he was drunk, which partially gave me a heart attack because my new phone is so loud. We still haven't set an actual time to meet up, so I'll half retract the previous post about it.

Another thing that happened is that my eldest brother made a post on one of my facebook statuses. This doesn't initially sound like anything out of the ordinary, but, if I'm perfectly honest, I think he was high or on drugs when he posted it. There's nothing I can do about this. He's in his thirties and he lives with his girlfriend in a city a bit further away. He blames everything in his life on our mum. If it really was her fault then how is it that my other two brothers and I are perfectly fine? He needs to grow up and take responsibility for his own mistakes. He may be my brother but I'm not listening to him any more. The amount of crap he gives me and puts on me by telling me stuff is too much pressure that I don't need. All he does is cause stress. Sometimes, it really upsets me that I used to look up to him most out of all of my brothers and yet he doesn't care about anyone but himself. He and my younger brother are two of the most selfish people I have met in my whole life. And whenever something goes wrong, it's never their fault. It's always somebody else that gets blamed.

I'm going to try and do some writing and whatnot now and ignore the fact that the snooker is playing on the television.

(Lyrics in the title are from Elephant by Damien Rice)

Friday, April 23, 2010

Hide & Seek, Trains & Sewing Machines

So, I'm kind of annoyed right now. I may have this all wrong and write something retracting it later, but I need to get it out before it ends up turning into an angry cyclone in my head. The reason I am annoyed is the guy who I kissed on Saturday. That, by the way, is not his crime. He texted me asking to go out as I may have explained in a previous post. I was kind of reluctant at first and completely confused. Over the course of the week, I've kind of started looking forward to it. And there was a cinema trip arranged between us for tomorrow. I spoke to him on msn on Tuesday night until late. Yesterday I sent him a text wishing him well with a game of rugby and didn't get anything back so I assumed he was busy. He seems to be a busy guy.

Anyway, point is, I said hello to him on msn tonight. He answered. We did the usual how are you routine, then I asked if he still wanted to meet tomorrow or not. I got no reply for about half an hour and then he disappeared offline. Now this is fine. It could have been something wrong with his internet or, you know, whatever. If it was his internet, I would have thought to get a text, but no... So it could have been something else, which is still fine. And then I had a thought. To be honest, I'd been getting a bad feeling since before he went offline. So I checked in my security settings where you can see who has you added to their contact list. Suffice to say, he no longer has me added.

Now, this could be a mistake. I might just have missed his email address on the list who have me added... though I did check it twice in case.

So, yes. I am kind of annoyed. I wouldn't have minded him saying no and giving me a reason. Seriously, that would have been fine. At least I would have known. But this? I don't think this is fair. I don't think this is fair at all. I mean fine, delete me, do whatever the hell you like - but I'd like a reason. Don't ask me out and be persistent about it if you don't actually want to see me. It's a really jerky thing to do, even for a guy. It's not fair.

I'm not a toy and I certainly do not appreciate being played with.

(Lyrics in the title are from Hide And Seek by Imogen Heap & Frou Frou)

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Flash Fiction No.6

The arrow slew through the air and stabbed into the tender flesh of the young yew tree, less than an inch from his head. He turned quickly, but there was nobody to be seen. His keen eyes studied the leafy forest. There was no movement save for the rustle of greenery in the wind. He lifted a hand to stroke his coarse bristles.

The second arrow cut through the air, striking the ground at his feet. He stuck a step back. No marksman would be so shoddy as to fire at him twice and narrowly miss on both occasions. This was a warning, but why and who from?

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

The Stars Are All Broken & So Are The Ties

I'm watching the end of Elektra and texting that guy back. I've never arranged to meet anyone that I've met on a night out before so this is quite new to me. Elektra just finished, as well, which is kind of annoying because it's one of those odd films that I like watching even though the quality isn't fantastic. It has some good songs on, though. An example of this would be Wonder by Megan McCauley. I get into quite a lot of artists because I hear their tracks on films, to be honest.

Films and books are like glucose and sugar. This may be one of my long and weird analogies. I apologise if it bores you but please feel free to bear with me. Films are like glucose because it's an already broken down version of sugar that just sinks straight through into your blood stream whereas books are sugar. When you read a book there can be layer upon layer of subtext and sub plots and stuff that happens or is said that you need to remember later on to piece it all together. That's why it's sugar. There are grains of it scattered throughout the book that you need to put together to make the final sugar cube. And it takes longer to digest than glucose does. Basically, films are story telling in a hurry. Books are story telling that takes its time to let you digest everything. When I write down stories, I spend my time visualising them as a film. I'm pretty good at it. The problem is that I sometimes have trouble with the film stills. What I mean by that is that describing the rooms and places where events take place is sometimes quite hard. I don't do it in as much detail as I should, which means that I have to slow it down and freeze the frame to describe everything in crystalline detail.

Anyway, I went to the doctors today (incidentally, here's a Doctor Who chat up line for you: Trust me... It's bigger than it looks) but my appointment had been made with a nurse. And apparently this nurse couldn't answer the questions I had about being tested for bi-polar disorder or discalculia. It's really annoying, especially as I was made to wait a lot longer than I was supposed to be there. The worst bit was that I got there early to ensure I made it for the appointment. So that wasted my time.

(Lyrics in the title are from Wonder by Megan McCauley)

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Right At The Borderline

As you may have guessed from the previous entry, I got drunk last night. Dreadful of me, I know. I woke up still pretty damn confused about the guy last night and my feelings and just generally befuddled. Anyway, I seem to have damaged/destroyed some friendships too. All in all, today has not really been a good day for that.

The guy from last night, however, has been texting me. I feel kind of odd. I'm not sure exactly how this works having never actually pulled anyone before (my ex doesn't really count since I already knew him). I'm really not sure where my head is at right now. I ended up crying because I didn't quite know what to do. I'm still not sure what to do.

I don't really have much else to say, other than that. I'm going to go and feed my cats in a minute.

(Lyrics in the title are from Meet Me Halfway by Black-Eyed Peas)

An Uncreative Title

Currently fairly inebriated. I apologise for any misspelt words and such. My head feels like it's pounding with all the caffeine in the alcohol. It also feels like I've just yelled at it as I rightly have.

I managed to pull tonight. A really gorgeous guy. I mean, seriously gorgeous guy. But it seems that the only guys who are ever into me are called James or Stephen - yes, I just gave away the names of my exes. Ugh. Which leads me to why I feel like crap even though this guy really was gorgeous and really was after me (shock horror - I pulled a good looking guy/I pulled!)... He kissed me. He pulled me close and he kissed me but all my sodding brain bleated was stupid Stephen's name. I hate him. Stephen - not the guy who kissed me, though, the guy who kissed me was called James.


Except, I only hate him because I think about him. And then I hate him more.

I don't even know what else to write. I just need to get my thoughts down. I gave the guy my phone number because he pretty much insisted. Considering my thoughts, though, it probably wouldn't be wise to continue anything. I'm not going to hurt anyone more than I have to.

Ugh. What is wrong with me? The guy was bloody gorgeous. Seriously gorgeous. Tall, dark and handsome... and I'm thinking of bloody Stephen! I dopn't want to think of bloody Stephen! I want to hate him with all of my heart! I want him to go the hell away. He doesn't want me. He doesn't love me. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

This is a sad pathetic moment. I will let you in on a little secret. I want to cry right now. I want to cry and I want to scream and I want to throw things at him. Why am I getting my self upset? This is stupid. I don't care. I don't care about him. I will never care about him again. Ever.

Yeahj right. I bet you're saying, "So why are you getting so worked up about it?"

The answer to that is I'm contrary and stubborn and as proud as hell. I don't want him to know how vulnerable I feel. I don't want him to know that I love him and that I let him closer than anyone else ever had been before. I don't want him to have the staisfaction of knowing that I have this irrevocable feeling for him. I don't want him to know that the reason I snapped at him etc was because that was the only form of defence I hasd left. What else can you do after you've let somebody right in? What else can you do when you're trying to hide the fact that you're hurt/?

Really. What can you do?

I shoud sober up. I ned to sober up and get a grip. It's almost half four in the morning. Ugh.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

The Empire Wishes It Could Strike Back

I may gripe about my brother a lot, but I really do have good reason to. I honestly hope he gets kicked out soon. He makes the lives of everybody in this house hell. It's absolutely horrible. This is my younger brother, by the way. I have two older brothers who no longer live at home.

My younger brother is dreadful, however. Financially we're not so fantastically well off, just like everybody else, but he's constantly eating all of the food in the house. We can't afford to keep buying so much food. On top of that, he has his friends around all the time and let's them eat chunks of our food too. This happens nearly every night. We really can't afford it. He also takes all of the cutlery and plates and cups into his room... so we never have anything to eat off. If you ask him to bring them down to be washed, he'll have a go at you. In fact, he's pretty much verbally abusive about it. Even when you ask him to clean up etc. There is a fine example in the fact that he's just watched me clean the kitchen - again. He then went through the cupboards to find things to eat and made himself a coffee. Ben doesn't make coffee like a normal person. In fact, he pretty much douses the worktop in it. So I know that I'll be facing coffee stain city when I return to the room. I told him that I hoped the kitchen was still clean. His response was, "F*ck you."

He also, then, proceeded to tell me that I should get an effen job and that I didn't matter because I'd dropped out of uni. He only figured this out last night. I didn't want him to know because he constantly has a go at me about it and brings me down about my state of things at the minute. The truth is, I wasn't enjoying the course as much as I should have been (and if it's for the rest of my life then I should bloody well enjoy it, don't you think?) and I wasn't doing so well on the maths side of things. To be honest, I want to be a writer. I always have wanted to be a writer and I always will. Eventually I will be. I'm deadly determined to make it in some way. Even if I really do die trying. At least I'd be being true to myself then. So I'm searching for a job whilst I write & get better at writing & learn everything I need to learn to get into the industry. My brother won't see this. My brother will just use it as another way to take pot shots at me. He always does and has already started.

The funny thing is, he doesn't have a job. He gets all of his money from our parents who are scrimping and saving etc. He gets £20 a month from my mum and on top of that they pay for his contact lenses. I don't get either. I have to sort things out for myself. I'm the responsible one and I'm also the one who gets all the sh*t for everything my brother does or does not do. I get all the flack for the house being untidy ALL THE TIME, even though I try my damned hardest to keep it clean.

The truth is, my brother wears me down that much that he pretty much makes me depressed sometimes. It's that kind of depression whereby you agree with the people who put you down and believe you're worthless. To be perfectly honest, I'm thinking of talking to my doctor about seeing if they can test me for bi-polar disorder. I don't think I have it full blown, if I do have it... but there are a lot of members of my family who have suffered from depression. The thing is, I don't get depression. I get random highs sometimes. I also have patches where I can't sleep very well but I still manage to be quite energetic etc and my thoughts are running so fast that I can barely keep up with them. It leaves me feeling exhausted and wishing I could turn it off, but that never seems to happen. Then I have days where I'm really down. Generally it's for no apparent reason. In fact, it's like somebody has just flipped something inside my head and pretty much nothing I do will make me feel any better. There's only been a couple of incidents where I've considered harming myself (I wouldn't do so please don't worry. I just think about it and then I think about how it would hurt and then I'd wimp out because if I was going to kill myself the whole point would be that I didn't have to feel anything any more. A huge explosion of pain before the end, therefore, would not really be ideal).

I actually have no idea why I'm typing this out. It's quite morbid reading. I'll find a cheery picture and end with that, just to lighten the mood a bit. Ha ha.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Last Night's Dream AKA WTH Was That About?

I had a really bizarre dream. At first, it was something about the world ending, then, as with all dreams, it morphed into something else entirely. It was one of those dreams where I woke up thinking: I don't even like him!

This doesn't happen often.

My dream went as follows:

It was late night in Scarborough and I was walking down the road near B&Q but on the Edgehill side (very dangerous if you don't know what you're letting yourself in for by the way). My direction was headed towards Eastfield and Crossgates, except in this dream that was where parts of the castle were located and where the place I was staying was. As I'm walking, a guy rides up onto the path near me, stares at me for a few minutes and then rides off down the path on his motorbike. And I'm left thinking that he looked like Robert Pattinson but was probably just another nob on a bike trying to scare me (this would happen in the area I've described). So I continued walking, knowing I have a long way to go. The time of day turns to morning.

Finally, I've reached the bit at the roundabout where the garage is... except in my dream it's part of the castle and I've entered from the upper reaches. So I go down into the main bit and notice that there is a burly guy there and the Rob Pattinson look-alike... who actually looks even more like him now that I'm in the room. So I pretend to ignore them as I usually do and go over to the table where all the leaflets are and some gobby woman tries to tell me all about the castle. I nod politely and she stuffs leaflets in my hands. Then she gives me something else and says it's from the gentleman standing in the corner. I look over and it's the Rob Pattinson look-alike. He switches off his mobile phone, puts it in his pocket, says something to the big burly guy, then leaves.

I try to leave by way of the stairs but something happens and we (me and the burly guy) end up having to help Matt Smith/David Tennant who are having trouble filming a scene in the castle for the new Doctor Who episodes. During this, I hug David Tennant and tell him I liked him best. They disappear off to finish their filming and I'm left with the big burly guy who detains me longer by talking to me whilst he devours a salad sandwich. He's telling me all about Rob Pattinson and how he doesn't like the guy's girlfriend - I couldn't care less as I'm not a Twilight fan,  but I do mention how I cried when he died in HP. The guard doesn't understand the term 'HP' so I have to inform him that it's Harry Potter... I'm irritated by that and because I have to go somewhere, but I stand quietly and finish the conversation before finally making an excuse to leave.

As I'm walking back to where I'm staying (which seems to be the middle of town but is actually where Crossgates should be), I realise that the piece of paper I've been given is Rob Pattinson's number. This is really confusing because I honestly don't like him. I think he's a pretty boy and that he has far too many squealing fans, especially as his acting in that dire film was just dreadful - he did a much better job in Harry Potter. So I cross the street to this dingy hotel thing where I'm staying... only he's actually there waiting for me (slightly creepy, but it was a dream so I went with it). He takes me into a side room with a table and I'm wearing that half-smile that says I'm actually attracted to him now - mostly because of his bizarre determination and because I feel flattered. I ask him why he gave me his number because I know he has a girlfriend (who wouldn't know when squealing fan girls and - more disturbingly - squealing fan mums hate his girlfriend for existing?). He says something about how thinks are rocky between them and he's leaving her or something. Then he says he was thinking of taking me out to dinner - this is obviously very shocking as, before ten minutes ago, I couldn't give a fig about him and he only met me when he stalked me on his motorbike.

And he produces several pieces of paper and says he's no longer convinced he should (with one of those amused grins on his face that says he thinks I've been silly and cute - note to everybody: I AM NOT CUTE!). When I take the pieces of paper, I realise that they're things I've signed which are petitions against Twilight and say how crap an actor he is in those abhorrent films (and I honestly do think those films are absolutely dire, which may be either the writer's fault, director's fault or none of them can act - though I've seen them act well in other films). So I'm really embarrassed and try to stumble over an apology, but the guy leans in to kiss me-

And then my phone started ringing.

This is even less fun because I'm awake -and- when I talk in the morning I have a voice that sounds like I've... well yeah... It sounds very thick and low in a morning is all I will say. This causes me to apologise to the guy on the phone who I've never met before (but he does have a very nice voice and was very funny - probably gay, though. The nice and funny ones always are, especially if they have nice voices). He apologises back for waking me up, asks about the 'weird dream' to which I exclaim, "It was about Robert Pattinson and I don't even like him!" The guy on the phone laughs whilst I sit and wonder why I would say such a dorky thing.

[insert *headdesk* here]

Anyway, in short, I had a weird dream about Rob Pattinson, then the guy from Orange (Craig as he hastily told me before I said goodbye - as well as saying I was to contact him specifically if I had any problems) and now I'm just wondering who else is going to unexpectedly hit on me today. Last time I had one of these random days, it was the guy in the takeaway hitting on me. Sadly, I'm not very good at handling being hit on. I get uncomfortable almost immediately and totally freeze up. The only ones who don't notice and persist are usually the ones who I wouldn't even touch wit a barge pole.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

L-O-V-E's Just Another Word I Never Learned To Pronounce

First thing is first, I wrote a piece for Leslee Horner's (@lesleehorner) click stories (her blog is linked to on the right hand side of this page) and today it has been posted. So if you want to read it, then please feel free to check it out here:

To those of you who may know me, please don't get the wrong end of the stick and think it was about my last ex. It wasn't. It was about the one before him. I shan't say their names here because I don't want them to turn up and hassle me about anything I've said. They may say things didn't happen the way I've said them... but I've said them that way because it is my point of view and this is the place for my thoughts. I can't help that and I shouldn't have to. This is my place to store my thoughts.

Currently, I'm wondering if my contact lenses are in right or if this bad focus is something to do with the headache I'm harbouring. I'm making dinner later on, so I hope it dies down a bit before then. My original plan for the day was to take more photographs of jewellery today. My mum makes it, you see, as a sort of hobby. Since she can't possibly keep it all, we decided that we would make a site to sell it on. Hopefully, this will all go well. Pretty much all of the pieces are unique. No two are alike. That was the plan, anyway. I'm thinking that I will attempt to find some paracetamol instead first.

I've somehow managed to get seventy-one fans n my facebook page, as well. I'm not quite sure how I've managed that, but it's really nice to know that so many of you appreciate the things I come out with. You'd probably appreciate it more if I got some headache tablets as I fear that I may make a few typos in this and not notice. I apologise sincerely if I do. On another note, my myspace page has gained a lot of friends, too. I realise that most of these are bands trying to get noticed, but oh well. Isn't everybody? I don't know if it was just for me, though, that it went a bit odd recently. When I signed in, it said I was signed in but refused to take me to the page where I could see my activity stream etc. Instead it was just showing me the page I'd signed in on. I think there's an internet conspiracy out to get me. That's right. The whole internet is against me. If that were true, I fear it would be a bit too Matrix-style for my liking.

Anyway, I shall disappear for another day and let you get on with whatever you were doing before I interrupted you with my journal entry.

(Lyrics in the title are from Starstrukk by 3OH!3)

Monday, April 12, 2010

Just Take Your Time Wherever You Go

Don't you hate it when you have to do something important and the thing vital to this important action has vanished?

The only laptop that connects to our printer has vanished and I need to print off a form. It's a very important form. And this form needs to be sent off immediately. I can't even install the printer on my laptop because the disc to do that has vanished. It vanished several years ago. The only laptop that now connects to this mess has also vanished. Funnily enough, it does this every time my younger brother gets his hands on it. Just wait until I get my hands on my younger brother one of these days. I've sent a friend a message, but, frustratingly, that's all that I can currently do about the situation. I'd love to scour my brother's room for the damn laptop, but I might as well walk into a lions' den covered in fresh blood for all the good it would do me. It's scuppered my plans for today.

Sadly, it's too early in the day for me to rant about anything else. I haven't eaten or even had a cup of tea yet. As usual, though, the kitchen and house are already a mess. I don't get to see a clean house when I wake up. It's always absolutely filthy. Then, once I've cleaned it, the hurricanes called father and brother come and mess it all up again within a minute. I get fed up with it, but the bit that annoys me most is when both of them complain at me and say that I never do anything. It only looks like I don't do anything because you've just come in and destroyed it, you pillocks! These are reasons why I will, sometime in the future, be living alone with only cats for company. Cats don't make mess and they're fairly appreciative of you. I say fairly because I know it's only a ploy to monopolise our affections in order for them to take over the world.

My father is asleep on the sofa. This makes me want to poke him with a sharp object, just to give him a shock. I don't understand how it's right for them to have a go at me when all he does is sleep and moan about stuff. Thinking about it is winding me up even more - especially because he didn't even damn well offer to help me find the stupid laptop I need! No. Instead he laid there reading his bloody newspaper and then went to sleep!

They say that you fall in love with guys like your father. So help me, god, if I fall in love with a guy like my dad I'll be up on a murder charge of some sort. I can stress myself out; I don't need anyone else to help me. When I die of extremely high blood pressure everybody will finally understand this.

Anyway, before I kill someone, I'm going to try to find a clean cup or mug to make myself some tea and possibly even breakfast (though I know for a fact that my brother has eaten pretty much everything in the cupboards and I'm really not going to have a mini chocolate roll or a wagon wheel for bloody breakfast!)

(Lyrics in the title are from Bubbly by Colbie Caillat)

Friday, April 09, 2010

Flash Fiction No.5

Bullets ricocheted off the walls. There were screams as bystanders dived out of the way. Plumes of smoke filled the room, scattering the light streaming in from the dark. Alice checked the gun was loaded, listening as it clicked back into place amidst the hazy noise. Tables fell over. Glasses smashed on the floor. Commands were issued loudly above the din while smoky voices replied.

Alice peered out from behind the counter. There were too many of them for her to get out the front way. She needed a back route. Her eyes snagged on the many civilians on the floor in the room.

Thursday, April 08, 2010

'Round My Home Town Memories Are Fresh

There are some songs that just fit your mood. This is one of them.

I'm wearing a red shirt. It has quite a few different words and slogans thrown across them; all of these slogans and quotes follow the same subject. One of them reads: Only for the lost hearts... I've been getting quite a few shirts with things written on them. I guess I kind of like the idea of being a canvas for thoughts and  emotions. Right now, I feel like a canvas of shifting thoughts and emotions. I feel like there is a river running right through me, carrying everything that lies heavy on my heart. Sometimes, I sit back to feel the quiet that trickles through everything. When I do, I can feel the pulse of my heart vibrating through my whole body and I imagine that it makes a slow sound. That slow sound is not unlike jazz. I guess that that's why this song seems similar to how I feel right now.

I once wrote a long journal entry piece about an ex a few years ago. It consisted of a description of being stuck on a train between stations and about how I was very confused about the situation, but when I called my ex he couldn't hear me properly or couldn't reach me. This journal entry was a very long time ago. I may fish it up one day and add it on here somewhere, but not right now. Right now I feel like I'm being haunted by deja vu or something similar. It's like there are random things jumping out at me and reminding me of things that have gone before. These are things that I shouldn't hope to happen again because there is no point in hoping. I don't want these things to jump out at me.

Sometimes I still hope I'll come home and find somebody waiting for me.

This is a silly hope. I need to put it behind me. I know, though, that if I found them waiting for me, I'd freeze up instead of going to them like I'd want to. I'd be snappy and cruel and put up a wall to pretend I didn't care, when all I'd be wanting is to see an ounce that they cared... and still I would force myself to be wary of them for a while.

This will never happen.

I shouldn't be so stupid as to hope it would. I shouldn't have let my guard down in the first place. It's been nearly a year... A year should change how you feel about somebody. Clearly it doesn't. Still, I'd think myself fickle if it did. After all, I still miss somebody else, but I recognise that I'm not quite as naive as I was then and that I'd rather talk to him just as a friend. He was a good conversationalist, especially regarding music. We could talk for hours about song lyrics and what we thought of them. I miss that about him. I miss losing the close friend in him that I had, but he would never turn up at my door. If I wanted, I could contact him, but we're not the same people any more and his bitterness would just drag me back down. I don't need dragging down.

Only for the lost hearts...

(Lyrics in the title are from Hometown Glory by Adele)

"I Love You... Most Ardently..." - Mr Darcy

I confess that the line in the title is, indeed, from the film version of Pride and Prejudice with the lovely Matthew MacFadyen and Kiera Knightley. I also confess that it is a slight precursor to some of the contents of this journal entry.

I had an eventful day. I went to Beverley with my friend so that she could get her braces taken off. We wandered around town for a while and I had a look for the book that I really wanted... which was unfortunately not there. We sat and chatted for a while, which is nice, because we haven't in quite a long time. We seem to have made up properly now. So that was really nice to do. At the same time, I was job hunting so I have two application forms to fill out. A pub has my number in case they have any future vacancies and a chip shop has my number too. Hopefully someone will call back and give me a job. I'm also going to start selling some of my mother's pieces of jewellery on a little online site. The jewellery is hand made and real silver, so when the site is sorted out, it will be available to buy in the UK.

Then I got a call from friends, too, who wanted to go for a drive. That meant that three of us went for a drive and chatted for a long time whilst we walked along Bridlington Promenade, which, as usual, was absolutely freezing cold, dark and empty. On our way back, we accidentally made a wrong turn and came to a dead end where my friend had to do a turn in the road (three point turn). When we were looking out of the back window we noticed a sign painted in red that said, "DO NOT ENTER! WARNING!' This scared one of our friends slightly and we got out of there pretty fast. It was dark and we suddenly realised everything might turn into a weird teen horror movie (though I'm sure they usually have more than one guy involved in those movies - in our case it was three girls and a guy). All of the way home, however, one of our friends was scaring herself by thinking of murderers and things because of the sign whilst my other two comrades started talking about ghost stories. Suffice to say, none of us has died yet but we may all suffer nightmares.

So, to go back to seeing my first friend of the day... I'm wishing she hadn't told me who she'd stalked on facebook the other night. I was pretending one of the people she stalked was far away and that there was no possible notion of me seeing them so I didn't even need to think about it... And of course this started me thinking about it, which is really pathetic and wounds my pride terribly. Sadly, I am quite a proud person, but not noticeably so... At least, I don't think so. Anyway, I just wish she hadn't made it so real that this particular individual was about when I was doing my best to pretend he wasn't. It's been working out better for me to pretend I don't care any more, because, for a few sad seconds, I can convince myself that I really don't.

It has just dampened my mood, though. I'll probably pick up again when I wake up. Or if I eat. I'd like to eat right now. Chocolate or something... which is bad because I promised myself I'd try to get my stomach muscles a bit tamer. Oh well... I can do that after I eat, right?

Tuesday, April 06, 2010


I read this recently 'playing a major roll in the plot'. I shan't say where it came from or who wrote it except that it was a published author and that it really did annoy me. I realise that published authors are allowed to make mistakes etc too, but I do get annoyed when I see bad spelling and grammar when I know, from researching literary agents, that quite a few of them will pretty much throw away your query if you so much as miss an apostrophe (I did this recently in my haste and I was kicking myself in the teeth when I realised because I knew what kind of impact it would have). So yes, I do get severely wound up when I see published agents who don't vet their things as thoroughly as the rest of us are supposed to in order to get just a crack at the industry.

And, if you're asking your self what's wrong with the little quote I put in, then I am utterly disappointed in you. Roll is right, of course, but not in this context. In this context, the writer meant 'role'. Surely you should be writing about the roles of your characters enough to get it mixed up, but not that way around! Recently I've had cause to write 'write' quite a lot and on occasion I've had to backspace where I've written it in place of 'right'. The point is, I backspaced. I make sure that what I've written is correct. It would be wrong of me not to check what I'm doing when I criticise others for bad spelling and grammar!

Another pet hate is when I see those irritating people who call themselves Grammar Nazis but go ahead and completely misspell grammar. I know that you can blame misspellings on accent, these days, but I have a pretty thick North Yorkshire accent and I don't misspell it (yes, that's right. I'm one of those terrible British people - I like queuing and have a penchant for tea... though we just call it a brew in these here parts). I don't say grammar as it's spelt. To me, it's 'grahmuh'. I bet you're saying that to yourself now and wondering how anyone understands me. I could go on for ages about my accent. I sometimes have fun sounding it out and writing it down like I would as proper dialogue. In fact, I shall write you a short passage in my accent and if you really want, you can see if you can decipher it and/or say it.

Ah dunno wha' t' talk t' yuh abou' nouwh. Really ahd lika brhoo bu' me dad's inh t' kitchin faffin' abouwh whi' all th' pots eh'setra. Cuhkin' annoys 'im ratha a lorh'. Ennywayh, I 'ope y'enjoyed yurh lessun in speakhin' whi' a Yhawshur acsin'.

Other things that annoy me are the your and you're problem people on the 'net seem to be having.

Your = belonging to you
You're = you are

For example: Your going to the shops.


Why is it wrong? Because unless you own 'going' then the sentence MAKES NO SENSE! And we all know that sentences are supposed to make sense.

What it should be: You're going to the shops.

And why should it be this? Because you are going to the shops. Suddenly the sentence somehow makes sense, right?

One more example, Those are you're shoes.

Unless you are a pair of shoes, this sentence IS INCREDIBLY WRONG! If you read it, replacing the apostrophe with the letter you've taken out, it says: Those are you are shoes. Now how on Earth does that make any sense?

What it should be: Those are your shoes.


I hate how people get than and then mixed up, too, which seems to be happening an awful lot lately. Than = a comparison word. So when you say something is greater or less than something else. Then = what happens next. Then I did this or that. They're both different.

Also were, where and we're. I can maybe understand why were and we're get mixed up because they're pretty similar looking, bar the apostrophe, but where? How can you get where mixed up in this? Were = the past tense of are. If you are going to do something and you change your mind then you were going to do it. We're = we are or we were. So if we're going to the park it means that we are or we were going to the park. All this is simply enough. Then we get to where. Where = a place that you have put something. So the dentist is where a crazy guy with a drill looks in your mouth.

I hope that makes everything clear. I'm getting enraged with people who get these simple things wrong. If you can't form a correctly spelled, punctuated and grammatically right sentence... then please either don't speak to me or go back to school. You'll drive me mad, otherwise. 

& How Can I Stand Here With You & Not Be Moved By You?

I'm slightly more sane tonight. If you can call this sane, that is. I don't think anyone I know refers to me as sane. I'm pretty sure they all think I'm off my rocker. This was probably proved today when discussing a trip out with my friend. I said that if WHSmith ran out of The Reckoning by Kelley Arsmtrong by the time we got there then I would start crying, cling to the desk and wail until they got security to remove me. She told me that if that happened then we would never have met before and she wouldn't know me. I fear she may not truly understand the crazy that goes on in my head. Or she does and that's exactly why she would leave me. Hopefully, this little scenario won't take place. I don't think it will... but we may never know.

It's also rather nice to see that I've gained quite a few fans on my facebook page. You can become a fan, if you like. It means that you can get regular status updates when I make another entry on here. I get it fed through, you see. It's kind of like having a newsletter, but I don't have one of those yet. I may do when my site gets finished. Still, if you click the box below, you can find my facebook page.

Once again, you may note, I am writing this entry rather late. This is because I've had a rather full day of making decisions and other such things. I intend to try sleeping soon. If I can't sleep then I am going to stay awake and clean my room. Then I'd stay awake for the entirety of the day, too. It might right my sleeping pattern. To be perfectly honest, I am absolutely knackered, but for some reason, my mind refuses to rest properly so my body can't follow it. It's most depressing. Luckily, I usually have one of my five furry little monsters (cats) to keep me company, though.

Incidentally, one of them is sitting by my side and purring whilst flicking me with his tail.

I should have a sleep tag, to be honest. I talk such a lot about my sleeping patterns in these posts. You must be really sick and tired of my doing so. I suspect you are all probably wishing that I would stop typing and just go ahead and damn well sleep! It may thus please you to know that I will do shortly. First of all, though, I intend to finish tickling my cats tummy and typing this up.


Did that get your attention? I hope so. It woke me up a bit. I want to write some more flash fiction in here. Anybody who reads this and wants to provide some random sentences for me to base my pieces of flash fiction on should comment below. I would be extremely appreciative of this as I like the challenge of creating something from a piece that I had no involvement in beforehand. It also gives me new ideas for other stories, sometimes. If you want to read pieces of flash fiction, then please scroll down to the labels box in the column on the right and select the 'flash fiction' tag, whereupon, my pieces of flash fiction will load.

(Lyrics in the title are from Everything by Lifehouse)

Monday, April 05, 2010

Just A Little Crazed...

If you read the time stamp of this entry (if you're in the UK), you'll probably realise that I'm writing this at past 3am in the morning. Judging by the amount of typos I'm making, it may well end up past 4am. No. I'm not drunk. I am slightly crazed through lack of sleep and effort to research/find an agent. I will secure one, eventually. It may take me some time, but I am determined. Someone, somewhere, will see through this hazy lair of craziness and realise that I actually can write quite well. That's not me saying I'm amazing. I'm not amazing. I wish I was, but then, that's why I don't like editing so much. I get mad with myself for not having written it perfectly in the first place. What can I say? I'm a fruit cake and a perfectionist.

I'd also rather like a toasted, buttered teacake now... preferably with a mug of tea.

I also have a crazy online family. We seem to have settled into a pattern whereby two of us who frequent my chatroom (me and Andrew, funnily enough) have become parental figures. The other lads who go there look up to us a bit. It's bizarre and seems to have happened over the years that we've spoken to most of them. It amuses me in a way because I really do feel like I could take them home and pretend they were my kids and I was their mother (this is nothing weird, just so you know. They're all about 14 or above and I wouldn't want to do anything weird with them anyway. I regard them all like I would teenage sons. I'll stop digging my hole deeper). Some of them come to us when they have problems or need to discuss things or want help with homework and others make me feel proud of them with what they've achieved. The funny thing is that Andrew and I sometimes sit and discuss them as if they really were our kids and we were making sure that they were doing well at school or something. Some of the people who go in our chatroom do not fall under this category. They do fall under the category of family friend, but if they ever upset one of the lads we regard as our kids, they would be have a severe ticking off. The chatroom, by the way, is here if you ever want to visit:

That's something else I should mention; my parents have put a huge hole through one of the inner walls. That's right. The wall that goes between their bedroom and the stairway has a huge hole in it. They say they're putting a cupboard in it... I'm not sure why this required them to put a hole through the wall, though. It leaves me and my younger brother with very little hope. If they have such inadequate amounts of common sense, then what common sense must we be left with?

Saturday, April 03, 2010

The Blush In The Sky Begins To Fade

Hope everyone enjoyed the flash fiction. It's nice to hear feedback on it, especially as it was a piece I wrote for my friend and I had no real direction except that it was to be about water.

Happy holidays to everyone, by the way.

I'm not Christian, but I will enjoy any chocolate sent my way. I really shouldn't because it's giving me an awful complexion right now. Luckily, no one seems in a hurry to give me any more, though, so maybe my complexion will be saved. Do I care? No. I'd just like to stuff my face and get fat. My cats would take advantage if I was fat, though. They'd use me like a big beanbag to sit on. They sit on my shoulders and back already when I'm stood up.

Anyway, I just did this quiz on Facebook and I found it interesting so I'll share the answers with whoever reads this:

You are: The Idealist (INFP) 
In general, INFPs focus deeply on their values, and they devote their lives to pursuing the ideal. They often draw people together around a common purpose and work to find a place for each person within the group. They are creative, and they seek new ideas and possibilities. They quietly push for what is important to them, and they rarely give up. While they have a gentleness about them, and a delightful sense of humor, they may be somewhat difficult to get to know and may be overlooked by others. They are at their best making their world more in line with their internal vision of perfection.

You are clearly an Introvert
You scored 54% in the direction of Introversion, which means you are clearly an Introvert. People who are clearly Introverts are reserved, quiet, and contemplative. They dislike the social pressures of large groups and being the center of attention, but are not necessarily shy. They frequently spend time alone in order to reflect and "recharge".

You are an iNtuitive
You scored 11% in the direction of iNtuition, which means you are an iNtuitive. iNtuitives like to discuss ideas and tend to approach new information intuitively, focusing on the "big picture" rather than specific details. They find the future more interesting than the past, because they can shape it. While they recognize the value of down-to-earth practicality and concrete experience, they tend to emphasize the importance of imagination and inspiration.

You are a Feeler
You scored 16% in the direction of Feeling, which means you are a Feeler. Feelers are caring, supportive, and appreciative. They naturally reach out to other people, preferring to cooperate and agree rather than argue over who is right. They are comfortable with emotions, both their own and those of others.

You are clearly a Perceiver
You scored 77% in the direction of Perceiving, which means you are clearly a Perceiver. People who are clearly Perceivers lead a flexible, spontaneous lifestyle and avoid making definite plans whenever possible. They get excited by starting something new but find it difficult to finish. They see all sides of every situation, so much so that it is often unclear to them what's "right". When faced with a decision, they will put it off for as long as possible in order to consider all their options. Even once the decision is made, they often second guess themselves. 

Which reminds me that I need to have a conversation with my mother. It's not so much that it reminded me, but I do need to have the conversation with her. It's going to be awkward, but I don't know what else to do. I also desperately need to get a job. There's a lot of stress on my mind at the moment, suffice to say, and I'm not sure how everything is going to work.

In other news, I finished editing Dark Side of the Moon. I've asked a friend to proof read it just in case there are any mistakes that either I or Andrew have missed out. I've been looking up literary agents in my copy of '2010 Writer's Market: UK & Ireland' (which has a web address of if you want to go look it up). The book also has plenty of helpful tips about submitting synopses and queries, so it's well worth buying. 

(Lyrics in the title are from Magnolia by The Hush Sound)

Thursday, April 01, 2010

Flash Fiction No.4 ...Sort Of.

This piece of flash fiction is actually a short story a friend (Louise Murray) asked me to write for her Beltane festival piece. It's just over the 1000 word margin hence the flash fiction 1000 tag, but I hope you enjoy it.

Ephemeral Elemental Echoes 

Rain shimmered in the air, weeping down over the grey bay. The tide rolled and burst over the melancholy sands, whipped into a furore by the angry wind. Rocks cowed beneath the pressure of the rabid spray, flayed to sand by the water’s temper. All about the bay howled with the wind’s derision as it crashed against the thunderous power of the sea. Rain skittered over rocks and paths, frantic grasses and crumbling headlands. Gulls screeched, clamouring for warmth and safety from the battle.

The sound of war had rattled on for three days, now.

Then, with a final sweep of defiance, the wind dropped.