Of Residual Randomness March 26, 2009
Posted by Jen in : A363 Open University, Journal , 20 commentsAh, yes, don’t you just love the way tumbleweeds blow across a neglected blog? Hello. I’ve been a bit quiet, haven’t I? I was going to post up a ‘normal service will resume shortly’ type thing but didn’t think anyone would believe me. Normal? What is this normal of which you speak? See? I knew what you were thinking. Or would have been thinking if I’d done it. Which I didn’t, obviously. Good, glad we cleared that up then.
So what have I been up to? Erm… writing, actually. Thinking Things. Learning Things too. Learning that I cannot think about more than one thing at a time, mainly. Having used up a large quota of my Brian’s writing department thinking about Novel 2, I found that its gear-change doodah was stuck and could not get into the right mode for a short story. Now that the story has been sent off to meet its fate, I am unable to get back into novel-writing mode. Instead, Fred Fowle the Funeral Director and his murderous urges are teasing me, unable to release me from his gruesome grip. I fear for my sanity. I used to write nice stories, cheery stuff, you know? But somehow Fred Fowle grabbed me, lured me in with his rheumy eyes, daring me to abandon him as he puffed away on ciggies soaked in embalming fluid and coveted a leading role in a Gilbert & Sullivan AmDram romp. Oh dear. I swear I am not connected to the contents of my Brian at all.
In more cheery news, when I went to the other extreme and cried over a crazy story loosely based on a memory of Rentaghost, I thought I had lost the plot, as it were. But now it is to be published in First Edition Magazine. With my name on, just like a proper person. And you will be able to read it, with your eyes. So that’s good then. Unfortunately, I also had to submit a mini-biography. At least in only 50 words, I wouldn’t make myself sound mental. Well not much. I didn’t mention red wine or rainbows. Not in 50 words. Well I might have. Oh. Bugger.
So. In a bid to make the most of this week which I’ve taken off unpaid to write, I am now going to learn to play the guitar so that I can strum in a house which I do not own but comes with its own sunset which I would, of course, catch in a butterfly net and share with you all.
But first, I’m going to have a little lie-down. Ok?
Of Happy Hippiness March 11, 2009
Posted by Jen in : Writing Bits , 27 commentsI was tagged a while ago to do a meme; to tell you a list of secrets about myself. The thing is, I haven’t really got any secrets – not because I’m particularly virtuous but simply because I can never never remember what any of them are. So there’s sort of no point, is there? Let’s see, shall we?
‘She cast her eyes down, a slight smile teasing her lips as a blush crept across her cheek. It was clear to anyone that she was a girl with a secret, or would be if only she had the presence of mind to actually hold onto a thought for more than 17 seconds…’
No, it’s a bit lacking, isn’t it? But one thing I generally don’t tell people is that I’m something of a closet hippy. No, I don’t mean that all the clothes in my closet (Good Lord, I’m turning into an American!) are made from hemp and dyed with the leaves of organic nettles. But, well, I do have some funny beliefs.
Some time ago, before I counted cows and typed things about bits of grass for a living, I worked as a Reiki healer. I’d spend ages sniffing oils and choosing just the right whale music and lighting candles and smiling serenely. As a job, though, it was hopeless as I couldn’t bear to actually charge anyone. I was also rubbish at sending them home after their appointment and would end up listening for hours to their emotional outpourings and cooking them lunch.
As the torments of real life took over, I got a proper job: the levitating, meditating and tofu sarnies had to stop. But I still have some funny beliefs. One of these is that I really, truly, deeply believe that if I see a deer, something really brilliant will happen. A portent, you know? Yesterday, in the woods, there was much rustling. ‘A deer!’ I squeaked, in a silent, only-in-my-head-in-case-anyone-hears-me sort of way. And I decided I would tell you about my weird hippy belief. And I wondered what yesterday’s deer meant, what it signaled. But I did not see the deer. And I decided that a rustling of leaves could not be considered a portent of amazingness and I wouldn’t tell you about it after all. But it was a deer and d’you know how I know? Because I saw it today. It stood on the path and looked right at me. But I can’t tell you what the amazing thing that will happen is… Not because it’s a secret, but because I don’t know yet.
Is it just me? Or do other people hold these beliefs? Do you have a ‘sign’, a ‘special something’ that signals good or bad? You can tell me… I’m great at keeping secrets…
Edited to add: Two ducks just shouted at me! QUAAAAAACK! Just like that, as they flew over my head. ‘What is it’?’ I asked (but only in my head just in case etc) ‘What is the Special Something?’ And you know what? They didn’t tell me…
