A Mother’s Tears

“Not now, Mum” James replied, all too abruptly.

He should know better. The pause signaled the coming deluge of uncontrollable sobs. Within milliseconds, they were charging tumultuously down the line like an unstoppable flood. He gave several short coughs to muffle the unwelcome sounds whilst clearing away the discomfort. It was a pointless effort, trying to escape the agony, but still he attempted to avoid it by turning on his heel towards Alina. She took hold of his hand and gently squeezed. Her beautiful smile radiated and loving touch helped to slowly disperse the pangs in his stomach. Her presence always helped. He breathed, slowly outwards with increased relief, then inhaling deeply, came the courage that allowed him to take hold of his thoughts.

“Mum… Mum… stop.” He spoke affectionately. He kept quiet, listening to her tears gradually receding, amongst the odd sniffle and cough. “Mum, it’s OK. I’ll be OK,” he said, once her emotions were under control.

But he knew it wouldn’t be, not for her, at least. She suspected something. He could tell. She knew him just as well as he knew her. There was nothing she missed, spoken or otherwise. For her, giving in and accepting his decision, whatever she thought it might be, was all she could do.

“I’ve gotta go. I need a good breakfast before they open the gate.” He laughed lightheartedly, trying to break the awkwardness. “We’re just in the queue, waiting to order something now.” He paused for a moment and listened attentively to his mother’s farewell. “OK… bye Mum. I love you too. Yes… I’ll give Alina a kiss from you. Yeah… yeah… OK, thanks. We’ll give you a call when we land… OK… bye.”

The line went dead. The tension eased. He pulled the mobile away from his ear and reluctantly watched as the cherished image of him and his Mum, faded from the screen. The hardest part was over. For the time being, at least, he knew he could relax.

Just a little something I’ve been working on – a work in progress

Ready to Write

It’s crazy how things all of a sudden start to fall into place, when you’re in the right mind set. It hasn’t been more evident than over the past few weeks, since I started a post graduate writing course. I’ve been forced to evaluate my writing, head on, and for once, I feel like I’m winning!

I’ve done several units on creative writing in the past, but I have no idea what planet my brain was on at the time. Much of what I’m doing at the moment is very familiar – characterisation, plot, structure, voice, tension, etc, etc, etc. I’ve heard it all before. So why, I asked myself, am I still stumbling at the first draft?

Well, it has finally dawned on me.  Actually, not dawned, more like rocketed in from oblivion and knocked me flying onto the right path!  So what has my problem been?  Editing!  Too much, too early.  I have a terrible habit of get stuck into editing, during and immediately after writing the initial draft.  Any seasoned writer out there will tell you this is a huge no no.  That’s not the right place nor time.  For me, I think editing borders on an obsession.  All my focus goes into diction, spelling, grammar and syntax.  I’ll edit over and over and over, so much so, my creativity is quickly spent and I simply give up.  The story hasn’t gone where I wanted it to go.  Of course not!  I was focusing at the wrong level.

So the moral of this story, for me anyway, is drafting!  Drafts, drafts and more drafts.  How did I miss that?!  So I have told myself, forget about the micro details at this stage.  Ask yourself the questions which force you to look at the whole piece, analytically.  What is the story about?  Is it well written?  Are the characters believable?  Does the storyline/plot keep the audience interested?  Would it be better told from a different perspective?  I could go on, but you get my meaning.  Drafting is about rearranging or rewriting the story to get it where you want it to go.  The editing comes last, when all the big pieces fit together and have completed the full picture.

But I think there is a moral in this for any would be writer – know when you’re really ready to learn to write.  Only when we’re ready to take on board what the experts say and practice everyday, will it make all the difference and help our writing develop.

Happy writing people!

The Abbey

Spring in the garden, adorned with colours so bright

Belie the Abbey’s walls, of stone dark and cold

Peace aglow with nature, vibrant in sunlight

Stood by commanding shadows, so powerful and bold

 

The serenity and joy softens, that what intimidates

Whose silence reaches out, to the powerless and free

Spirituality of faith, in the garden now dominates

Where the strong and sacred, wish that they could be

Snowdrops at the Abbey

Childhood – no competition

Have you ever stopped to wonder

Of the damage you have done?

When you push your children’s limits

For achievements you’ve not won?

 

Have you ever stopped to wonder

Of the hurt that you have caused?

To the parents of the others –

Your injurious applause?

 

Have you ever stopped to wonder

Of resentment that you stir?

As you cause the inner conflict

Of a child easily deterred?

 

Have you ever stopped to wonder

Of the friendships that you break?

Driving wedges between the young

Achieves nothing for their sake

 

Have you ever stopped to wonder

Of the damage you have done?

For no race in this world allows

True happiness to be won

A suitcase full of characters

So I’m finally back in Australia after my brief trip home to England.  And what an interesting trip it was.  I have literally come back with my mind spinning, from all the interesting people I have seen on my travels.  From the airport, tube, pub and abbey, and all the mundane bits in between, there is always someone who stands out from the crowd.

I’ve just spent the last 30 minutes or so, writing down the most memorable characters and moments before they disappear from my memory entirely.  It happens to us all and unfortunately there is no other way to effectively capture those moments.  Or maybe not?

Literally, something only just occurred to me.  Whilst browsing through the photos I had taken in London and ready to hit the delete button on those where people or other objects had got in the way of a good shot, I realised the camera also captures those moments that you have no clue about at the time.

Don’t waste the inspirational opportunity

Here’s a classic ‘in the way’ shot – a bus blocking a great view of St Paul’s Cathedral.  “Charming”, I thought when I took it, but thought nothing more of it after I finally got the picture I wanted.  Well, that was until I saw the faces of the daily commute in rush hour London, suspended in time, stirring the creative juices.

So, another lesson learnt in kicking that creative writers’ block – look beyond the intended shot.  It’s amazing what’s also there in your photographs.

And now, if only I could now kick the jet lag!  Anyway, since I’m back home, I’ll soon be putting my words into action.  Or should I say actions into words. 🙂

Writer’s Block: Don’t start at the beginning

I can’t think of any better place to kick start the imagination, than where I’ll find myself tomorrow – the airport. Yes, I love to travel, but not only that.  The airport is one of the best places to do another of my favourite things – people watching.  Catching a fleeting glimpse of somebody else’s life, in the midst of all the chaos and emotion.  To me, it’s where people’s characters come alive – the love, anguish, happiness, sorrow and perhaps sometimes, the truth.  The airport terminal is just teeming with stories (real or imaginary), everywhere you look.

I’ve heard published writers talk about the difficulties of writing a story from the start.  It’s hard.  I  somehow, years ago, managed to complete a novel (which is still in draft form).  I remember starting at what I thought was the beginning, then I ended up going backwards.  Eventually, after a lot of to-ing and fro-ing, it was complete with a beginning, middle and end.  Not the conventional way to write, or so I thought.

So, after putting down pen and picking up books about creative writing, what do the experts say?  Well, one of my favourite bits of advice is to start with a character, create a scenario and build from there.  You don’t have to know where the character came from, where the scene may end up, or even what the story is about, but at least it’s a starting point.  Who would have thought, that my unconventional writing approach wasn’t so wrong after all?

So, I’m going to put this to the test tomorrow.  Well, at least get some ideas and hopefully write something creative when I’m over the jet lag.  I’m hoping to use my people watching habit and transform what I see onto paper.  I’ll have the perfect scenario already made, being the hustle and bustle of people in transit.  What part of any story may eventuate, who knows, but at least writing something is a good place to start.

Now the question is, will I dare to share?

Not the way home

This was not the way it was supposed to be

The time when I would visit home

I hoped to feel the happiness

Instead I feel alone

~

Not because there is nobody there

They are – offering warmth and love

But for the unfortunate circumstance

That has called from the land above

A poem in progress…

Editing: Don’t boil it, stew it

It’s amazing what three years or so can do for your writing!  That’s how long it took me to dare go back and find the rubbish I wrote during my days at University.

And so I spent ten minutes of my time, squeeming at the creative pieces I’d begrudgingly submitted after hours and hours of agonising.  It was pretty obvious what I’d done.  I’d edited the hell out of every one.  But is that possible?  Well, from my experience it is.  It was like my stories had gone from a sumptuous aromatic mouthwatering stew (at least in my head) to plain old disgusting tripe.  My ideas and characters had survived and I still liked them, but everything else had just turned to mush.  It certainly wasn’t what I wanted it to be and I know editing is supposed to improve writing, not ruin it.

So I wondered.  How had I let it happened?  Well, remembering back to those days, it became clear.  My writing had boiled dry on high heat.  I hadn’t allowed it time to slowly cook and develop.  In hindsight, I should have given myself a few days off from editing and gone back with a fresh outlook.  If I did, I’m pretty sure I would have had a different result.  Beating anything with a stick, day in day out, sure isn’t the way to get what you want.

So lesson learnt.  Put the pen down.  Walk away.  Give it time and space.  Look on it with a clear mind.  It’s amazing what a little (or a lot of) time away can do.

Happy editing 🙂

Lost

I sit here lonely

Lost with no sense of time

My nerves are rattled

Thoughts trip hastily through my mind

~

Why don’t I know

Where this ending is?

My grip is loosening

I feel I’m falling into an abyss

~

If there is no voice

How do I find peace?

They’ll be no one to catch me

Until it’s too late to speak

~

What am I supposed to do

When that time has passed?

Be thankful for that void

Where ignorance placed me last?

A favourite place to think

I’ve been digging through some of the pieces I’ve written in past creative writing classes.  I found several poems which I wrote about the ocean.  I think this poem fits in so well with this particular beach, especially during summer.  It’s called Shark Beach (in Sydney) and we have a lot of baby Great Whites hanging around at the moment.

Anyway, back to the poem.  It’s one of a series of 8 poems I wrote.  So here it is, in it’s original form.

II

Blanket of deception, appearing so still.

Masking its danger from marveling eyes.

The irony of calmness, concealing the constant threat,

Of a battleground below, from which solace is found.