Returned from the Dead
Ok, so I’ve been missing for oh… about 2 months. Mmm, maybe more (who’s counting?). I have no excuses suffice to say that I’ve been lazy and undisciplined & that this is the one & only time I’ll leave this blog this long. Here’s to actually sticking out things I start… an entirely new concept for me 
This is to be my most honest, straightforward post. It’s something that I want to keep up, this total honesty, with you, & with myself. I haven’t been true to myself for a long time. Not to the writer in me, who yearns to have her words read & have them mean something to someone – even if it’s only one person on the whole planet.
I have this great idea for this novel. It’s just a seed at the moment, just a glimpse of what needs to grow into a full-fledged novel. The problem is two-fold. Firstly, I’m already writing a novel. I’m at the end – I probably have a few more pages to go & then the first draft will be done. And for the first time in about 10 years of failed attempts, I will have a complete manuscript in my hands. But I’m afraid it isn’t me, this novel. I’m afraid to put it out there, that it may not be quite what I envisioned for my first novel, my first step towards making myself known. The second problem is that although I have this great feeling for this new idea of mine for a second novel, I’m scared to pursue it. So far, every idea I have pursued into the beginnings of a novel has inevitably fizzled, until I have zero enthusiasm left for the subject & I simply let it die a silent death.
So I guess the subject here is courage. Courage to stop talking about living my dream to be a writer, & to actually write. Up until now, I’ve had so many excuses for not doing it – I’m blocked, I don’t have the right subject, I don’t have time, I’m too tired, uninspired… well you get the picture.
I think the time for excuses is over. I think my loved ones are so tired of hearing my squall about how I can’t write, about how I should really get round to it… blah blah etc. Truth be told, I’m tired of hearing myself say it.
So now I will go forth & be productive…
And I will revive this blog… even if it is only once a week.
1 comment September 15, 2009 Jen
One More Time
There are these great moments in movies. The ones where the characters have a defining moment – a capsule in time where everything has gone wrong and there seems to be no hope, but suddenly, they have an epiphany. They realise that they can fix their lives. That nothing is truly broken. That it’s never too late to start again. That bravery is simply the refusal to give up. And you see them picking up the pieces, one step at a time, not allowing doubt to creep in long enough for them to hesitate. In the end, they always triumph. Is life really that different?
People have been known to do extraordinary things. Often, these people are no more remarkable than those around them. The difference between them, and those of us who go about our lives as usual, is that they have never stayed beaten long. Failure is not in their vocabulary. It simply isn’t an option for them. Without any other options, they choose to get up and do it all over again, until it works. Are these people born this way? Or have they spent time and effort training themselves to push harder, move faster and rise above the mundane?
I think we can all live our lives the way we want to, if only we want it enough and are willing to move toward our goal, never taking our eyes off it, never allowing any obstacle to be too big. I think that those great moments in movies can be replicated in real life. I think that no matter how low we are, there is always the chance to rise again, to start from the beginning and try something different, having faith that even if we don’t end up where we originally planned, it’ll be a learning experience for the next time round.
1 comment July 19, 2009 Jen
Writing Tricks And Tips
So I was wondering if any of you budding writers, or those of you who already have published works, have any words of wisdom to share with the rest of us?
Finding time every day to write is sometimes a low priority for me. Sometimes nothing will come to mind, no matter how much I wrack my brain. Sometimes everything I write seems completely unreadable. I’ve tried to stick to a specific schedule – but you know how the saying goes – man makes plans & God sits back & laughs… I happen to agree with this. As big a planner as I am, sometimes you just can’t factor in everything.
Is it better to set a certain time frame aside? Or to decide to write a certain amount of words each day? I’ve found that sticking to a certain number of words a day does help to get the job done, but it doesn’t always guarantee the best writing.
Writing a novel takes more discipline than anything I’ve ever done. It’s also a total learning curve – you have to try things without knowing if they will work. I’ve tried writing a novel based only on a basic idea and vague characters – which didn’t work out well. For some people, this is the only way for them to write – to simply do it, without stopping to think too much. Definitely didn’t work for me. I’ve discovered that I need to plan absolutely everything, from finish to end, before I can write anything half-decent; but then I get impatient with the planning and usually dive head-first into writing – and then hit a brick wall because I haven’t planned beyond a certain point.
Any thoughts, anyone?
Add comment July 15, 2009 Jen
Move To The Music
I just had to put up this quick post. Had a great day of writing the other day so decided to celebrate with a few tunes. Which made me think – what would humanity be without music? What would move us, make us want to dance around the lounge (rhetorical question, of course), make us want to conquer the world? In my humble opinion nothing moves people like music – so go ahead: draw those blinds or curtains and take a jiving tour of your kitchen/lounge/bedroom. May the tunes be with you!
2 comments July 3, 2009 Jen
Judgement
The Bible was the first to say that we have no right to judge others. That to see clearly, we first have to remove the log from our own eye – only then can we see the speck in someone else’s. In theory, I agree with this. But what about accouting for human nature?
Judgement is part of our human makeup. Looking at someone from the outside leaves us with little to go on as far as the person inside is concerned. So we judge based on the outside package. I think that this is fairly understandable. But what happens when we judge people we know, the people we care about?
Obviously we’re not always going to agree with every choice a friend, sibling, partner or parent makes. The same thing can be looked at by dozens of different people which will inevitably result in dozens of different interpretations. We are entitled to our beliefs and our opinions – but at what point should we draw the line between supporting a loved one in their decisions and sticking to our moral code? At what point are we standing by what we believe in, or simply judging the actions of those whose shoes we can’t place ourselves in?
None of us want to be judged. We want to be supported, even celebrated, in the choices we make. But sometimes it’s really difficult to see a situation objectively when you’re right in the middle of it. Sometimes it’s an outsider who has no emotions invested in the situation that has to point out the cracks and problems. In my experience, seldom do these people get thanked for their honesty. It’s really tough to point out something to a loved one that they clearly don’t want to see or even acknowledge. Often, we just end up alienating those we love by pointing out the obvious.
I feel that it’s my duty to be honest with the people I love. If I see a friend stumbling into a situation that can only end badly, I can’t just stand back and watch him or her fall into the pit. It will weigh heavily on my conscience if I just leave them to their own devices. At the same time, they are adults and perfectly capable of making their own choices, whether they are good or bad. Who am I to tell them that they’re doing it wrong?
All I know is that I need people to be honest with me. I may not take it well right from the beginning, but you can be sure that I’ll think about it afterwards, and consider if they were right.
1 comment July 1, 2009 Jen
The Science of Diet
Ok, so my mission an hour ago was to find some advice on healthy eating. So I Googled it. Found lots of helpful advice. Then I Googled ‘how to maintain weight’ and got a lot fewer hits. Then I tried ‘how to gain weight’. Hmm. Absolutely no helpful hints except those aimed at people who have already lost weight and now want to maintain the weight they currently have. So basically, skinny people are screwed. It’s almost as if we don’t really exist as far as the rest of the world is concerned, and if we do, we are labelled as those people… you know, the ones who eat but never actually keep anything down, or those that just never eat at all.
As a skinny girl, I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with other women. I’ve had to put up with the assumption that I have some eating disorder (I mean, how is it possible to be my size and actually eat?), or I have those women who gush about how great it must be to be my size. It is here that I want to correct this assumption.
First of all, I’m really short. Petite, some would say, but I think they’re just being polite about the obvious: I’m short and really skinny. I know what you’re thinking – that it must be such a pleasure for me to go clothes shopping… trust me, it’s anything but. Because I’m short, all my pants are too long, so I have the choice of doing one of three things: rolling them up (which makes me look like a 5-year-old), wearing ridiculously high heels (which leave me cripple after an hour or two), or having them shortened (which is a mission, not to mention an expense when you have to do it with every single pair of pants). Skirts which cut average height women at the knee, cut a couple of inches below my knee, which achieves the look of a school girl in a skirt her mom is hoping she will grow into. Tops are about the only thing I can shop for with any kind of satisfaction, and then only if the stores happen to stock a xs size.
I also can’t carry off a lot of the fashion trends. Pashminas almost fall off me. Those long tops that you can basically wear as a very short dress make me look like I’m playing dressup. Long dresses only make me look shorter. High-waisted skirts make my already non-existent hips disappear completely.
My point is simply this: even us skinny gals have something to complain about. So the next time you see a teeny girl, try not to judge her. She may be like me – praying for a sudden growth spurt, and for her hips to magically appear.
1 comment June 29, 2009 Jen
Taking Charge
Luck – is there really such a concept? Are some people really more lucky than others? Or, (and this is the way I tend to think) do we make our own luck?
I’m the first person to acknowledge that there are things out there that can’t be explained by way of science, logic or books. Even though I’m not the most religious person around, I do believe in a higher power, in something that sometimes taps into the world, and changes things.
Maybe our destination is already chosen for us, and the choice we have is how we get there. Maybe certain people really are meant to be doctors, saints, presidents. Maybe a select few of us were born to change the world through who we become, to leave a lasting imprint of ourselves on the world before we pass on.
This concept of a pre-destined fate versus a self-made path has always fascinated me. It challenges the concept of choice, and freewill. Is it a comfort to know that, ultimately, your choices all come down to one certain thing, or does that take all the fun out of not knowing what’s just around the corner? Is it scarier to consider that we’re born simply because our parents decided (or perhaps had a slip up)? That we’re here simply because of procreation, and what we do with the fact of our existence is completely up to us?
The saying that everything happens for a reason has always been very two-fold for me. It can be extremely comforting when something inexplicable happens, but it’s only comforting when the storm has passed and you can trace the line of the disaster to your present day, saying that if that hadn’t happened to you, you wouldn’t be where you are now. I’ve used that way of thinking many times myself, on many different occasions. But how does this saying fit in when something truly terrible happens? Like a child dying? Or war? Do these things really happen for a reason? What reason could there possibly be for parents to lose a child? Or for millions to die because people in power decide they cannot settle their differences any other way besides with warfare?
I do believe that every choice I make sets me on a certain path. It’s nice to think that maybe, behind my own choices, is a guiding hand in certain things. Like the way I met my husband – I went to a bar I very rarely go to because I was invited by friends, and he was there with said friends. Maybe a little divine intervention happened to ensure we were there at the same time, when we were both in a position to pursue a relationship.
I think we can choose who we are, too. We all have intrinsic cores to who we are, but we can choose to be better, to improve on our flaws, to try and see the world through new eyes, every day. Perhaps there really is something real to that whole concept that the book & DVD, The Secret, subscribes to. The idea that we are what we think, that what happens in our lives is a direct result of our thoughts. So if you send good thoughts out there, if you think positively and really believe you’ll get the things you want, then you will.
I think as humans we tend to complicate things. We can’t believe fully in the simple concept of creating our own realities, because can something so simple really be the key? Only one way to tell.
Add comment June 23, 2009 Jen
The Difference Between You and Me
I’ve been thinking a lot about the different people in my life. Each one of them have something about them, a quality or a characteristic, that I admire, and wish for. I’m not sure if this is how a choose my friends, but I think not, since I’ve known one of them since I was 6 years old, and much as I’d like to think I was that astute as a child, I very much doubt it.
Is it a good thing to desire qualities within the people around us? Or is it a method of self-torture when we realise that perhaps we will never encompass certain qualities, and so, in a certain sense, never measure up? I once read somewhere that comparing yourself with other people is the surest way to unhappiness. There will always be someone who is smarter, funnier, more talented, more beautiful than you. It’s simply a fact of life. No one is equal in what life hands them.
Some people seem to have it all – beauty, talent, love, friendship, money. However, I tend to believe that even though it may seem like certain people have everything, life has a funny way of tipping the scales and making things even again. Consider certain celebrities who have more money than three generations can spend, who have enjoyed success, fame, recognition, and love. They inspire worldwide envy for all the outward things they have. But I will always maintain that things are never as they seem, and no one can ever tell what another’s life is about. Deep down, beneath all the glitzy layers, there always lurks more than the eye can see.
I have some friends who shine without even trying. People are drawn to them, want to be near them, want to get to know them. I don’t think this is something you can cultivate, but perhaps something you are simply born with, like blue eyes. This quality is my biggest envy. I think I would cut off my right arm for that quality. But maybe the particular path that quality would take me down is not to be mine.
Can we truly change who we are? Are we born into a certain mould which is flexible, but not breakable? Is it a mould that fits its wearer that to break it would tear the very fabric of who we are? I like to think that we are able, if we are willing, to tweak certain things about ourselves. I doubt I’ll ever be the loudmouth at social occasions that everyone stares at. But, with a little effort, I’m sure I could be that much more socially minded, and a little less formidable. Maybe self awareness, and being open to something different to what we know, is the key.
Add comment June 15, 2009 Jen
Novel – Chapter One, Part One
Chapter One
It was one of those mornings. Katherine had stumbled out of bed after a restless night, having already slept through her blaring alarm. She was running late, and worst of all, it had to be today that the twins were starting their first day of primary school.
She moved quickly down the passage to the boys’ bedrooms – at six, they still shared the same room, although their beds had been moved to opposite ends of the room. She was worried about their first day. She knew that it was difficult for most kids to part from their parents and sum up the courage to join the throng of others that were also experiencing the trauma of being coaxed (or pried, in some cases) from the safety of their parent’s arms.
She quietly entered the room and gazed down at Nathan’s sleeping profile. He was curled in a tight ball, his right hand lightly fisted and tucked beneath his chin. His dark hair was tousled from sleep and his cheeks a rosy red from the warmth of his bed. She glanced across the room at Jake, whose form was sprawled across his bed, his right arm flung over his eyes as if blocking out a bright light and his blankets in a tangled heap at the foot of his bed. Even now, it was sometimes hard for her to believe that these bright, energetic boys had once shared her body with her and each other, that she had once carried them with her every day.
Suddenly remembering the time, she laid a gentle hand on Nathan’s shoulder, waking him immediately. His large storm-grey eyes focused on her and a moment later, he started to grin.
‘It’s our first day of school, isn’t it?’ he asked, already knowing the answer.
Katherine smiled and nodded. ‘That’s right, big boy, today is a big day for you and Jake. So get up, and I’m going to go downstairs and start fixing breakfast. Do you need help picking out some clothes?’
He shook his head. ‘I can do it.’
Katherine rose from the edge of Nathan’s bed to wake Jake, but was surprised to see he was already awake. Jake slept deeply and intensely, as he did most things. Usually, she needed to shake him awake.
‘Hey buddy. Time to get up, it’s your first day of school.’
Jake merely grunted and slid out of bed slowly, rubbing his eyes with his fists, a gesture that had stayed with him ever since he was a baby. He fixed his eyes on Nathan and gave him a half-hearted smile. Nathan returned the smile and Katherine immediately sensed that the boys were talking to each other in the silence. She never understood why, but when they communicated this way it always left her with an uneasy feeling. Catching the reprimand that she could feel rising to her lips, she smiled at both of them and turned towards the door.
‘Breakfast in ten minutes boys. Get dressed and wash your faces.’
She turned and went out the door, closing it behind her. She made her way down the hall to the stairs, then stopped and listened carefully. The unmistakeable sound of cutlery clashing together and plates being taken out of the cupboard rose from the kitchen. She ran lightly down the stairs and found Kevin standing at the stove, an egg lifter in one hand and a mug in the other. He was dressed in perfectly ironed chinos and a deep blue shirt that brought out his dark colouring. At 33, he was as gorgeous as ever, just as good looking as he was when they met.
He turned at the sound of her footsteps and smiled. ‘Morning.’ He slipped an arm around her waist and drew her to him for a kiss. ‘Thought I’d help you out this morning, what with the boys starting school today.’
She glanced at the pan in front of him and frowned slightly at its contents. ‘Honey, you know that this isn’t the most nutritious breakfast, right?’
He grinned at her. ‘I know, but hopefully it will help ease the pain for them, and for you.’ He picked up the pan and expertly tossed the offending pancake in the air, catching it perfectly. He gave her a look of pained contrition, the look he always gave her when she pretended to be annoyed at him. It made him look as young as their sons and her heart gave a stutter in her chest. She smiled and swatted him playfully, shaking her head. ‘That look is going to be the end of me one day.’
He grabbed her and pulled her firmly to his chest. ‘That’s what I’m hoping for.’
She laughed. Just then, the twins appeared in the doorway, both dressed and freshly scrubbed, their eyes bright with excitement.
‘Just in time,’ she said cheerfully, pulling out a chair for each of them.
‘Pancakes!’ they both crowed, peering gleefully at their places at the table as Kevin placed two golden brown pancakes on their plates. He grinned at Katherine and she rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what he was thinking.
‘Well, my work is done here, I’ve gotta go.’ He reached for his briefcase and his keys, then moved towards the boys and placed a gentle kiss on each of their cheeks. He reached for Katherine and gave her a lingering kiss on her soft mouth, making both boys wrinkle their noses and simultaneously yell out. ‘Gross, Dad!’
Kevin laughed and walked out the door, winking at the boys as he did. ‘See you kids later, have a good first day!’
Half an hour later Katherine had managed to get the boys into the car. She carefully backed out of the driveway and turned east, slipping her sunglasses on to shade her eyes from the brightness of the sun. Fortunately the school was around the corner; one of the many perks of living in a small town. The boys had insisted that they could walk home alone after school and Katherine had successfully squashed the urge to be overprotective and insist on picking them up. It was a safe town, it always had been. She and Kevin had moved to Willow Acres when they decided it was time to start a family. After doing extensive research on the Internet about all the surrounding towns of their current home, the found that Willow Acres came up with the cleanest record – very few murders had been committed and records of rape or any other violent crimes were also very low. It was a close knit community, one that still believed in the idea of knowing their neighbours.
‘Mommy, there it is!’ Katherine’s thoughts broke at the sound of Nathan’s voice and she realised that she had very nearly driven right past the school. She smiled at his enthusiasm and turned to look at the two of them in the backseat. Jake was also looking excited, although a lot less so than Nathan.
Maybe this won’t be so hard, she thought. She unsnapped her seatbelt and climbed from the car. The children scrambled out, their wide eyes fixed on the chaotic scene that was taking place just outside the school building. There were children everywhere, all of whom were in various states of hysterics. Katherine knelt so that she was eye to eye with her sons. She passed a hand over each of their heads, relishing the softness of their dark hair that was so much like their father’s.
‘Right, are you guys all set?’ She adjusted the straps of their backpacks, fiddling nervously in an attempt to keep them with her a little while longer. Jake fidgeted and sighed impatiently. ‘Let’s go Nate,’ he said, pulling on Nathan’s hand. Nathan hung back, resisting Jake for a moment. He put his small hand against Katherine’s cheek, mimicking the gesture she used on him whenever he was upset or anxious.
‘Bye Mom,’ he said quietly. He then turned and without looking back, followed his brother into the brick building.
Nathan looked down at his hands, fascinated by the gooey gunk between his fingers. The play dough was a deep blue colour, a colour that reminded him of the sky on a hot summer day. He had been trying to make a snowman out of the clay, but the head kept falling off the body and finally, with a snort of frustration, he had taken to simply smooshing the clay until his hands were covered with it. Bored, he glances up and instinctively looks for his brother. Jake is right next to him, drawing a picture with a black crayon. Nathan squints, trying to make out what Jake is attempting to draw. Unconsciously he slides a little nearer to get a better look and Jake snaps his head up, almost knocking heads with Nathan from the suddenness of the movement. Nathan rears back to avoid the collision and looks his brother straight in the eyes. What he sees there is scary, like looking into the angry eyes of a rapid dog that has come too close, close enough to bite. Jake’s eyes narrow, as if he is able to read this thought of Nathan’s as clearly as if Nathan had actually said it. Jake raises his hand and forcefully pushes Nathan out of his chair, so that he lands hard on his rear. Several children around them have witnessed this scene and a soft titter breaks out. Nathan stares at Jake from his position on the floor, barely able to believe that Jake had pushed him that way. Jake looks unconcerned and continues drawing as if nothing had happened.
Add comment June 15, 2009 Jen
Prologue – Extract One of Novel
She felt like she had been on the hospital bed for hours, with the bright lights of the room searing her eyes and making her feel exposed and vulnerable, the shouts of the nurses and doctors ringing in her ears.
She had known she was carrying twins, which involved certain implications like a longer and more painful birth, but had not been prepared for the excruciating white-hot pain that would accompany her sons’ entry into the world. Sweat trickled down her neck and covered her body in a fine sheen; she could barely feel the pressure of Kevin’s fingers wrapped around her own through the heady haze of pain that wracked every nerve. As another contraction came and rolled over her swiftly she knew that she would have to start pushing. As soon as the realization hit that she would soon be holding her two sons in each arm, that after several difficult months she would finally see her children, a vague but strong sense of dread filled her, momentarily sweeping all other thoughts and her pain aside. The feeling rushed over her and fled, like a locomotive train out of control. She felt dazed and confused as a nameless fear began to bubble up in her, leaving her breathless with its force. Katherine had never considered herself what was often called a ‘natural’ mother – she had pushed down the fear whenever she thought of motherhood – yet when she had found out she was pregnant she had felt an explosive joy fit to burst her skin.
What is going on here? Why do I feel this way?
Even as the thought came she realized that the feeling of dread was limited to only her one son. She struggled to sit up, to alert Kevin that she had an undeniably strong feeling that there was something wrong with one of their sons. Different hands gently pushed her back down, and only at that moment did she snap out of her daze and become aware of the activity around her, of the pain that wracked her body. She gasped and suddenly tuned in to the sound of the doctor’s yelling instructions at her.
She tried to speak over the chaos, desperately trying to reach out to Kevin and get his attention long enough to try and tell him about her feeling, but he was too intent on the activities in the room to see her desperation.
“Katherine, push!” the doctor shouted and Kevin shouted in unison.
She knew it was no use. She started to push.
Some time later, both boys had entered the world, a mere two minutes apart. Her feeling was forgotten and as she held both her sons, she had no memory whatsoever of the terrible emotion that had gripped her so entirely.
1 comment June 10, 2009 Jen
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