"What's it going to be then, eh?" is how every part of Burgess' A Clockwork Orange starts. It's how every day of our own lives start too.
Is this the day we step up, take the risk, get our shit together? Is this the day we finally do everything we've been putting off? Is this the day we're going to do something different, something special? Or are we just going to muddle through it, work another shift at a job we're sick of and do the exact same thing as yesterday? I'm not trying to be inspirational here, I'm just stating facts. If we want to change our lives, we can. In P. K. Dick's A Scanner Darkly Rob Arctor had a wife, a family, a job. Then he hit his head unexpectedly on an open cupboard door and decided that it wasn't the life he wanted to live anymore.
I guess that's the closest analogy I have for how I became a writer. It happened almost by accident. And I'm still struggling to work it in around my full-time job, having a broken hand (which you might remember from my previous blog) and my family. Honestly though, I'm still figuring out what to do with what I've written. Before approaching agents with the first book in the series featuring Alex and the Madhouse Kids I'd like to self-publish a stand-alone novel online. I've got a half-finished NaNoWriMo project, but there's a long way to go with that one. So I guess if I want to go down that path I've got to write another book. I've also recently submitted two flash fiction pieces which may get published if I'm incredibly lucky. I also want to share some of my writing on my blog for you all too. Maybe if my flash fiction pieces don't get published I might publish them here. Another idea is I could share some horribly embarrassing songs I wrote when I was in university. Any suggestions you may have would be welcome. Let me know in the comments.
Back to "what's it going to be then, eh?" though, that's not a once-a-day type question. That's asked of us every time a colleague tells a racist joke, or when you see sexism or bullying on your way to work, for example. When you're in a position where you see any behaviour like that, you automatically ask yourself "shit, should I say something here?" or have a "what's it going to be then, eh?" moment. And stepping up in that moment, stopping the bully, telling them that sexism or racism is not acceptable, actually changes you too. You feel better about yourself, you feel like you're more capable, and you won't spend the rest of the day / week / year wishing you did something. This is actually the topic of one of flash fiction pieces I recently submitted. It is based on my own experiences, and when writing it I titled it Heroes but since there's a few references to the Bowie song of the same name, I changed the title at the last minute. To avoid any possible legal issues, basically. Anyway maybe in a couple of weeks I will publish it here.
I probably shouldn't be writing at all right now, because of my broken hand, so I'm going to sign off here.
Stay well, and if you feel like it, tell me about your "what's it going to be then, eh?" moments!
Sunday, 29 April 2018
Thursday, 12 April 2018
I'm slightly concerned about how many people read my last post.
Almost thirty of you read my last post, 'How important are titles, anyway?'
And I wasn't prepared for that.
I haven't covered my blog with warnings cautioning you not to follow my advice or my example yet. Come on, people.
- I still insist on writing with two spaces after a full stop. And I get annoyed by any books written which only have one space after a full stop. Which is pretty much every book published in the last twenty years.
- I am writing this while listening to my entire back catalogue of Hunters & Collectors albums. On CD. Currently I've got 'The Jaws of Life' from 1984 blasting away. You don't need to follow that example.
- Not only am I listening to music that the Australia Post delivery guy just cringed at, but I am doing all this with my right hand in a cast. That's right. I broke my hand. And I'm a writer, FFS! I need that hand, dammit!
- And I broke it in the stupidest way possible. *Awkwardly changes disc to 'The Way to go Out' (1985)* This dickhead here thought it was a good idea to punch a tram. I mean, in my defence the tram had it's doors open, and the driver clearly saw me running up to him, waving my arms. But he clearly thought it would be a great gag to close those doors in my face. And the next tram wasn't expected for another twenty minutes. Fair to say I was a bit pissed off.
- But I also suck at getting medical attention. I hoped I'd just bruised my hand, you know. There was no numbness and I could wiggle all my fingers. Good signs, right? So I iced it and tried to sleep it off. It was still sore and swollen the next day so I called in sick and took myself to the GP. He referred me to a radiology clinic connected to a local hospital to get an x-ray. 20 minute journey, then after half-an-hour in the clinic I got x-rayed. The x-ray people saw I'd broken something, and told me to take those x-rays back to my doctor right away. Which I did. Another 20 minute journey and another wait in the doctor's waiting room. He saw the x-ray and said I had to go to the hospital's emergency room. Which is exactly what I wanted to avoid. I was considering breaking my other hand against the wall of his office I was that frustrated. I was just some loser with a sore hand, certainly nobody's definition of an emergency. So everyone else who would come through would be seen as requiring more urgent attention than myself. Eventually they did see me, but they couldn't use the x-rays I'd got only hours earlier, so I had to go through that whole process again.
- Repetition frustrates me. I hate repetitive music, the same lyrics over and over again, I hate it when people repeat what they told me only moments ago. And I hate having to repeat myself most of all. And everyone I spoke to, my GP, the x-ray technicians, the triage nurse, admin nurse and doctors at the hospital all asked the same questions. Not to mention the second lot of x-ray technicians and random nurses who attended me. And I didn't want to tell this super-embarrassing story once, let alone repeating it over and over again. *Changes disc to 1986's 'Human Frailty'* It's kinda funny though, about how I can't stand repetition but at the same time really love dogs. I mean, they only know one word.
Anyway, I was considering using my fight against a 20 ton unfeeling steel monstrosity to espouse the values of picking one's fights. But you know what? Sod it. Fighting isn't about winning. Obviously losing's no fun, but if you only get involved when you can win, you're never going to take action against the injustice and oppression that surrounds us, that we (perhaps unconsciously) support by our silence and our passivity.
And I wasn't prepared for that.
I haven't covered my blog with warnings cautioning you not to follow my advice or my example yet. Come on, people.
- I still insist on writing with two spaces after a full stop. And I get annoyed by any books written which only have one space after a full stop. Which is pretty much every book published in the last twenty years.
- I am writing this while listening to my entire back catalogue of Hunters & Collectors albums. On CD. Currently I've got 'The Jaws of Life' from 1984 blasting away. You don't need to follow that example.
- Not only am I listening to music that the Australia Post delivery guy just cringed at, but I am doing all this with my right hand in a cast. That's right. I broke my hand. And I'm a writer, FFS! I need that hand, dammit!
- And I broke it in the stupidest way possible. *Awkwardly changes disc to 'The Way to go Out' (1985)* This dickhead here thought it was a good idea to punch a tram. I mean, in my defence the tram had it's doors open, and the driver clearly saw me running up to him, waving my arms. But he clearly thought it would be a great gag to close those doors in my face. And the next tram wasn't expected for another twenty minutes. Fair to say I was a bit pissed off.
- But I also suck at getting medical attention. I hoped I'd just bruised my hand, you know. There was no numbness and I could wiggle all my fingers. Good signs, right? So I iced it and tried to sleep it off. It was still sore and swollen the next day so I called in sick and took myself to the GP. He referred me to a radiology clinic connected to a local hospital to get an x-ray. 20 minute journey, then after half-an-hour in the clinic I got x-rayed. The x-ray people saw I'd broken something, and told me to take those x-rays back to my doctor right away. Which I did. Another 20 minute journey and another wait in the doctor's waiting room. He saw the x-ray and said I had to go to the hospital's emergency room. Which is exactly what I wanted to avoid. I was considering breaking my other hand against the wall of his office I was that frustrated. I was just some loser with a sore hand, certainly nobody's definition of an emergency. So everyone else who would come through would be seen as requiring more urgent attention than myself. Eventually they did see me, but they couldn't use the x-rays I'd got only hours earlier, so I had to go through that whole process again.
- Repetition frustrates me. I hate repetitive music, the same lyrics over and over again, I hate it when people repeat what they told me only moments ago. And I hate having to repeat myself most of all. And everyone I spoke to, my GP, the x-ray technicians, the triage nurse, admin nurse and doctors at the hospital all asked the same questions. Not to mention the second lot of x-ray technicians and random nurses who attended me. And I didn't want to tell this super-embarrassing story once, let alone repeating it over and over again. *Changes disc to 1986's 'Human Frailty'* It's kinda funny though, about how I can't stand repetition but at the same time really love dogs. I mean, they only know one word.
Anyway, I was considering using my fight against a 20 ton unfeeling steel monstrosity to espouse the values of picking one's fights. But you know what? Sod it. Fighting isn't about winning. Obviously losing's no fun, but if you only get involved when you can win, you're never going to take action against the injustice and oppression that surrounds us, that we (perhaps unconsciously) support by our silence and our passivity.
Sunday, 1 April 2018
How important are titles, anyway?
The novel I have been working of for some time now is currently titled 'Emma and the Madhouse Kids' and sure, it sounds good.
It means there's going to be:
*an Emma.
*Kids, possibly from some "madhouse" - whatever that means.
And those things are true. But, believe it or not, there's actually a lot more to it than that. Firstly, while there is an Emma, she actually isn't the main character. She thinks she is, and in a way it is all about her, but the main character is actually Alex. So should I call it 'Alex and the Madhouse Kids' instead?
What about those Madhouse Kids? Well yes. I mean, no. There is a bunch of kids at a medical facility where experiments are done on their brain, but never once is it referred to as a 'Madhouse'. Maybe I need to work on that. Maybe I should just call it 'Emma'.
But maybe I can keep it as is. I mean, think of all the books with misleading titles. Wait. Don't even think. Here is a list.
The Six Most Misleading Book Titles.
1. 'To Kill A Mockingbird' - Not a story about killing birds.
2. 'The Neverending Story' - Well the main gripe I have with this title is that it ended.
3. 'Trainspotting' - Unless that actually is a term for Heroin that I've never heard of.
4. 'Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus' - Just nope.
5. 'The Man in the High Castle' - Amazing book, but no. The title is all wrong.
6. 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' - No. No-one had breakfast there in the entire book. I don't even know if you can have breakfast there. I thought it was a Jewellery store.
But you know what? Despite having titles that just make no sense, most books on that list are amazing. So I will stick with that title for now. And you know what? When I write the sequels, their titles won't make sense either. 'Kiara under the Reichstag' and 'Devendra versus the Tokyo Traitor' - well until I think of something better anyway.
Which I am certainly going to do at some point after they've been published.
It means there's going to be:
*an Emma.
*Kids, possibly from some "madhouse" - whatever that means.
And those things are true. But, believe it or not, there's actually a lot more to it than that. Firstly, while there is an Emma, she actually isn't the main character. She thinks she is, and in a way it is all about her, but the main character is actually Alex. So should I call it 'Alex and the Madhouse Kids' instead?
What about those Madhouse Kids? Well yes. I mean, no. There is a bunch of kids at a medical facility where experiments are done on their brain, but never once is it referred to as a 'Madhouse'. Maybe I need to work on that. Maybe I should just call it 'Emma'.
But maybe I can keep it as is. I mean, think of all the books with misleading titles. Wait. Don't even think. Here is a list.
The Six Most Misleading Book Titles.
1. 'To Kill A Mockingbird' - Not a story about killing birds.
2. 'The Neverending Story' - Well the main gripe I have with this title is that it ended.
3. 'Trainspotting' - Unless that actually is a term for Heroin that I've never heard of.
4. 'Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus' - Just nope.
5. 'The Man in the High Castle' - Amazing book, but no. The title is all wrong.
6. 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' - No. No-one had breakfast there in the entire book. I don't even know if you can have breakfast there. I thought it was a Jewellery store.
But you know what? Despite having titles that just make no sense, most books on that list are amazing. So I will stick with that title for now. And you know what? When I write the sequels, their titles won't make sense either. 'Kiara under the Reichstag' and 'Devendra versus the Tokyo Traitor' - well until I think of something better anyway.
Which I am certainly going to do at some point after they've been published.
Thursday, 8 March 2018
Why the Name?
Why the name?
Oh, you mean 'The Perils of German Cusine'?
Yeah.
Mostly I thought it sounded good. Mostly.
My mum and her family escaped from the Soviet East Germany and, as refugees, found their way to Australia. So exploring my German roots and connecting with German culture is something that's important to me, and what better way to explore culture than food?
The one drawback is that my mum can't cook. So I've had to teach myself how to cook, mostly through Jamie Oliver's 'Ministry of Food' and trial and error. And through travelling the length and breadth of Germany, from Dusseldorf to Dresden, Hamburg to Oberstdorf, I really enjoyed the German food in all it's wonderful varieties, and, of course, the beer. So I hope to learn one or two German dishes throughout the course of this adventure.
That's not very perilous though.
Well you haven't seen me cook. And, of course, life is perilous. And, if I survive long enough (and if this blog survives, let's be honest) I will regale you with stories of my brushes with death. So we've got that to look forward to.
If you read my first post, you might remember that I achieved more last year than I could possibly have envisioned. So far this year - up to the first week of March - my greatest achievement is removing the 'We've Made Mental Health a Priority' signs from the office. I have honestly been struggling at work recently, as have a lot of the others, as a result of industry-wide changes that began in December. Couple that with decisions by management which show a complete disregard for the mental health of the staff, it was something I just had to do. A little victory, if you will.
I will sign off now, and I wish you all the best, may you achieve the little victories you need, even if it is just getting through the day.
Oh, you mean 'The Perils of German Cusine'?
Yeah.
Mostly I thought it sounded good. Mostly.
My mum and her family escaped from the Soviet East Germany and, as refugees, found their way to Australia. So exploring my German roots and connecting with German culture is something that's important to me, and what better way to explore culture than food?
The one drawback is that my mum can't cook. So I've had to teach myself how to cook, mostly through Jamie Oliver's 'Ministry of Food' and trial and error. And through travelling the length and breadth of Germany, from Dusseldorf to Dresden, Hamburg to Oberstdorf, I really enjoyed the German food in all it's wonderful varieties, and, of course, the beer. So I hope to learn one or two German dishes throughout the course of this adventure.
That's not very perilous though.
Well you haven't seen me cook. And, of course, life is perilous. And, if I survive long enough (and if this blog survives, let's be honest) I will regale you with stories of my brushes with death. So we've got that to look forward to.
If you read my first post, you might remember that I achieved more last year than I could possibly have envisioned. So far this year - up to the first week of March - my greatest achievement is removing the 'We've Made Mental Health a Priority' signs from the office. I have honestly been struggling at work recently, as have a lot of the others, as a result of industry-wide changes that began in December. Couple that with decisions by management which show a complete disregard for the mental health of the staff, it was something I just had to do. A little victory, if you will.
I will sign off now, and I wish you all the best, may you achieve the little victories you need, even if it is just getting through the day.
Sunday, 25 February 2018
Evidently, I'm Going to Regret This.
As you can tell, I've started writing a blog.
Why? Well, can I start by saying that I don't like that question? Well, not specifically 'why' - I have plenty of time for 'why is this so?' or 'why does this happen?' but it's 'why did you do that?' which I don't like. When someone asks me 'why did you do that?' I immediately go on the defensive, I feel they have made a judgement that my decision was not the one that they would have made, that it was the wrong decision, and that I'm obligated to explain the reasoning behind my decision-making process, which isn't something I ever really want to do.
Well, in this case I can provide an answer or three to the question 'why are you writing a blog?' Which, incidentally, is going to be asked by everyone who knows how boring and mundane I am, and will of course be shortly followed up by 'why the hell would anyone read that?' Here are my answers:
a) Because everyone needs to read about my most embarrassing stories and my unpopular opinions.
b) Between working full-time, reading, writing, spending time with my wife and beautiful greyhounds and my mobile phone addiction, I basically have zero time.
c) I have survived several encounters which could well have killed me. Was my life spared so I could go on and achieve great things? Or have I been cursed to live forever? Or is that just part of growing up in Australia? Find out here.
d) And well, everyone likes to watch a car crash, right? Whatever hopes and dreams I have are bound to be lost, my life will be turned upside down and it will all end in tears, right in front of your eyes.
I guess the real reasons behind a lot of our actions stay hidden in our subconscious and are dominated by our needs for survival, of peer/social acceptance. In 2017 I challenged myself to read 52 books, which is something I never genuinely believed I could do. And yet, I did. I read one book for each of the 52 categories of the 2017 Popsugar Reading Challenge, and also wrote the first draft of my 90,000 word novel (currently titled 'Emma and the Madhouse Kids') and I also competed in NaNoWriMo for the first time, writing over 50,000 words for a Sci-Fi novel (currently titled 'The Rings of the Earth'). And I'd not written anything aside from essays since high school. So, in short, I achieved way more last year than I ever thought possible. I surprised myself. And, as Kevin Spacey's character from American Beauty said, "it's a great thing when you realise you still have the ability to surprise yourself." Incidentally, I used to love that movie, now I don't know how I feel about it any more. I'm someone who pretty much never sees anything through, or finish projects that I start, but after last year, I'm thinking maybe I can do this, so I am challenging myself to try harder, push myself further, and who knows what might happen.
Well, answer d from above, most likely.
Why? Well, can I start by saying that I don't like that question? Well, not specifically 'why' - I have plenty of time for 'why is this so?' or 'why does this happen?' but it's 'why did you do that?' which I don't like. When someone asks me 'why did you do that?' I immediately go on the defensive, I feel they have made a judgement that my decision was not the one that they would have made, that it was the wrong decision, and that I'm obligated to explain the reasoning behind my decision-making process, which isn't something I ever really want to do.
Well, in this case I can provide an answer or three to the question 'why are you writing a blog?' Which, incidentally, is going to be asked by everyone who knows how boring and mundane I am, and will of course be shortly followed up by 'why the hell would anyone read that?' Here are my answers:
a) Because everyone needs to read about my most embarrassing stories and my unpopular opinions.
b) Between working full-time, reading, writing, spending time with my wife and beautiful greyhounds and my mobile phone addiction, I basically have zero time.
c) I have survived several encounters which could well have killed me. Was my life spared so I could go on and achieve great things? Or have I been cursed to live forever? Or is that just part of growing up in Australia? Find out here.
d) And well, everyone likes to watch a car crash, right? Whatever hopes and dreams I have are bound to be lost, my life will be turned upside down and it will all end in tears, right in front of your eyes.
I guess the real reasons behind a lot of our actions stay hidden in our subconscious and are dominated by our needs for survival, of peer/social acceptance. In 2017 I challenged myself to read 52 books, which is something I never genuinely believed I could do. And yet, I did. I read one book for each of the 52 categories of the 2017 Popsugar Reading Challenge, and also wrote the first draft of my 90,000 word novel (currently titled 'Emma and the Madhouse Kids') and I also competed in NaNoWriMo for the first time, writing over 50,000 words for a Sci-Fi novel (currently titled 'The Rings of the Earth'). And I'd not written anything aside from essays since high school. So, in short, I achieved way more last year than I ever thought possible. I surprised myself. And, as Kevin Spacey's character from American Beauty said, "it's a great thing when you realise you still have the ability to surprise yourself." Incidentally, I used to love that movie, now I don't know how I feel about it any more. I'm someone who pretty much never sees anything through, or finish projects that I start, but after last year, I'm thinking maybe I can do this, so I am challenging myself to try harder, push myself further, and who knows what might happen.
Well, answer d from above, most likely.
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