I just finished writing the first sex scene in my book – that’s right, cold showers for everyone. Actually, there was no sex, just the messy beginnings. And it got me thinking, are the yoof of today having better sex than we did in the dark ages before Sex and the City?
Let me explain further. I’ve been watching a crappy new TV show, The Secret Circle, which is based on the books by LJ Smith, who also penned The Vampire Diaries. In one of the early episodes, two pairs of high school kids–probably around 17–were having sex, and the girls were
wearing lingerie.
LINGERIE!
And no,
I’m not talking about a pair of Cottontails or even pettipants, I’m talking satin and lace, matching tops and bottoms. Don’t get me wrong, I like a nice pair of knickers, but is this really what today’s kids are wearing under their skinny jeans?
Secret Circle - Is this what teens are wearing under their skinny jeans?
Or maybe these pettipants?
And if that wasn’t bad enough, these young couples were having perfectly polite sex in their own beds! With lovely white sheets and fluffy pillows.
Seriously, is that how the kids do it these days? Whatever happened to the back of a car, a football oval, the cheapest motel in the area or some random room at a party with no lock on the door and a constant stream of interruptions?*
Or maybe it’s just TV that’s painting these pictures?
Kids, seriously, the future of film, TV, books and teen pregnancy depend on you having awkward, messy sex in a broken down car on the side of a freeway while wearing light blue Cottontails.**
But whatever, I promise you this, the sex scenes in my books ain’t pretty. They’ree unlikely to happen in a bed, and let’s just say that nobody’s going to give a shit about what kind of knickers they’re wearing.
* & ** Disclaimer – These are just silly, silly things that have never ever happened to me or anyone close to me. Ever.
I’m currently at the country house writing and hanging out with the dogs while Jeff works 3 jobs in the city to keep us in grass-fed beef and fancy nuts. Love you and appreciate you!
I’m also working on our pet business (Lucky Pet) and was writing advertising copy over lunch at the local cafe when I heard one of my favourite sounds, the laugh of a Kookaburra, and it got me thinking of my favourite things, especially sounds. I’ve decided on my top sounds:
Well, well… Today marks 2 months that I have officially been a stay-at-home whatever.
People ask if I’m:
Bored - Nope
Lonely – Nope
Getting fatter – Nope
Getting out of Sunshine – Does going to West Footscray count?
Happy as a dog rolling in bird shit – YEP
Jeff agreed to a few conditions – things I wouldn’t do just because I’m home:
1. Iron – tick
2. Empty the dishwasher – well… I have a few times
3. Can’t remember the 3rd one
Here’s what I have been trying out:
Weight and Health I’ve been learning about the Paleo way of eating and living – this is a goodie. Of course, just like religion, I’m doing it my way. And, just like religion, it’s working out. I was really worried about putting on weight because of boredom, loneliness, and “I feel like chocolate-o’clock”, but Paleo is really helping. I don’t feel hungry, and because I’m eliminating as much sugar and carbs as I can, I’ve just decided what I’m not prepared to eat and I just don’t.
Some can be a little fanatic, like insisting on no fruit. What? A girl needs to poo.
Cheap skin care There are just some things a girl can’t do. Like buy crappy shoes or scrimp on skincare. The thing is, I have sun damage on my face and I’ve tried everything. That Cate freaking Blanchett nearly convinced me to try SKII. But, seriously, with two mortgages and one salary, I had to let my fingers do the walking and I discovered on a number of website last night that fresh lemon juice dabbed on the face and left to dry for 30 minutes is the key to “bleaching” dark spots. FREE skincare! I’m European, so of course I have a lemon tree… Stay tuned.
No TV until after Jeff gets home Easy. My first week, I decided to watch Dr Phil during lunch and it was depressing! People yelling and not listening. Instead I have Triple J on all day, which means I keep up with music and say things like, “I’m so down with the kids, y’all”, which makes me sound just like Phil on Modern Family.
No shopping Man this is a hard one. I get these delightful daily reminders from MyHabit, Spreets, Brandexclusive, Dorothy Perkins, Urban Outfitters, Gala Darling etc etc. I mean, I don’t want to turn into one of those stay at homes who lets themselves go. Instead, I’m going through my wardrobe and wearing it…
Dress nicely and wear make up every day Tick, tick. This one was really important to me. If I look nice, I feel nice.
Walk every day Remarkably easier than expected. I used to find excuses, now I think of the puppies and it’s easy. I haven’t taken the car into Sunshine once…
Learning to like Facebook Yep, I’m a little behind the 8-ball, but it’s served me well. That said, I like having a virtual community of people. PLUS, how awesome is it to wake up to a tonne of people “liking” you!
Start Rollerderby Oh no she di’nt. OH YES I DID! I learned about the Westside Derby Dollz recently and I’m now training with them. I say “training” rather loosely. I’m learning to fall without killing myself or anyone else. It’s the best fun and serious bi’nness!
Hanging out with fellow homebodies Epic Fail! Who’da thought I’d be so freakin busy? Between the pet biz and writing, it all amounts to fullness. No complaints here, though. But I know I’ll make more time over summer.
Oh yeah, and the big reason I wanted to stop working for the man in the first place (other than my brain conniptions)…
Write a book Yes indeed. I have been planning my third book since around May. I know it’s a long gestation, but that’s just how I roll. This week I’ve had some serious misgivings about the plot. So I did as Jeff suggested and printed out all my notes and started reading all 100+ pages to see whether there’s a plot in there somewhere. And, you know, there is. Just not the plot I had originally planned. I’m planning on starting the main writing before Christmas. YE-HAW…
As I sit here on the wrong side of midnight contemplating both the SexPo ads during Roseanne and my dog’s hiccups, I’m trying to answer the question posed today by Dr Ray over at www.cutthefatpodcast.com:
What is your Kelly Harrington?
EH?
Well, for Dr Ray, Kelly Harrington was the catalyst that got him to move his ass and do something about his weight when he was 12 when she said “You’re fat, give me back my shoe” (Go and listen to his ultra motivating Episode 33 for some context)
Kelly became his motivation, his obsession that got him up and running.
So what’s your Kelly Harrington? What shakes your world up and motivates you?
Here’s the formula we need, according to Dr Ray:
BW x DAD = AR
When the WHY is big enough, the HOW will present itself. One of the biggest things I got out of this podcast is that once you’ve found the BW, don’t go looking for information, just go ahead and DAD to get AR.
Big Why x Do Anything Differently = Amazing Results
Indeed. My Big Why is that I love to tell stories.
But is that a big enough BW? How about, I’ve tried to quit but keep coming back to it? Why not…
My “Do Anything Differently” was to quit work. Work has been my excuse for not writing enough. It’s the biggest thing I could have done differently to get the results.
Has it worked? Somewhat. I’m still looking for information — and this is interesting because last week, my friend Rachael told me to “just get started”, stop researching and GO, which I did, but I’m still holding on to old ways a bit.
BUT… I’m determined to start on the actual manuscript before Christmas. I’m giving myself a few more weeks of research. I can’t cut the cord that quickly, can I?
So I don’t like the query process… The thought of trying to distill eighty thousand words into less than one page makes me sick–perhaps that’s why I had gastro last week.
Then there’s the synopsis. All that marketing speak–it’s completely unnatural for a writer to write like that. If I knew how to market, I would work in marketing–there’s a lot more mony in it, guaranteed.
To all of that, I say: Meh
So call me lazy. Actually, please don’t. I’ve just written eighty thousand words, and rewritten them, and edited them, only to find a hundred holes so I patched them up, which caused a rewrite. I’m on draft 4, officially, which doesn’t take into account all of the unofficial drafts and the sleepless nights.
So, just try calling me a lazy writer…
I just wish somebody else would do the boring bits for me. Any takers?
I am literally writing everyday at the moment, and I’ve never written such a diverse array of material. Whether it’s this blog, or this website, or even…
Photo by Striatic via Flickr CC
Not entirely unfamiliar with non-fiction writing thanks to the years as a journalist. Plus, I ask a lot of questions. Still, I’m using someone else’s words and can’t embellish–that’s been very hard. It’s meant a lot of focus, and really getting into Simonne’s mind and voice, which seems to come naturally. I feel like I’m possessed.
1. The autobiography I’m ghostwriting/co-writing
While draft three is with four readers and I’m writing my agent queries, I’ve been redrafting…
Photo by gogoloopie via Flickr CC
2. A short story I grabbed a chapter from an old manuscript that centred on a telephone call. It explores my usual obsession with death, but also looks at a woman who is schizophrenic and plays with suicide.
Looking at this story, and previous one, The Seventh Day, the main protagonists are barely present in their own lives. They skirt around the edges, and we see them through others. It’s like drawing with charcoal. You shade around the picture you want to see, leaving light on the page. That’s what these characters are. Other people surround them and form them, even when they don’t say or do anything.
And while this story stews, I’ve been outlining and researching…
3. The Immortals trilog What? This one came totally out of left-field and has me wondering–what the hell is it? Is it sci-fi? Fantasy? Paranormal? Well, according to the lads over at Writing Excuses, it’s Urban Fantasy. Me, urban fantasy? It’s nuts, but after weeks of researching and outlining, I’m completely embracing what is a very new genre for me.
I’ve only ever written standard literary fiction but I guess I’ve dabbled with it as a reader–I studied Philip K Dick, have been obsessed with the Vampire Diaries and Twilight (yes, I admit it, whatever), Lord of the Rings–and I watch a bit of it–True Blood, Heroes, Buffy–so I guess it isn’t a huge stretch.
But a trilogy? Yep, I’ve already got the premise of each book plotted out.
I hardly know who I am anymore, and I’m loving it!
So I am nearly at the end of this draft – the third. THANK CRIPES.
Don’t get me wrong, I am thoroughly enjoying writing, but the next book is starting to knock on my door with a lot of force that I want to get stuck into it. Sure, I could multi-task, write them both, but I ain’t made that way. My entire body has been overtaken by the current book. I have to wait until I’m finished and then I need a serious exorcism. If only Jason Miller were still around *sigh*.
Draft three has been all about entering corrections, restructuring and fact checking. It’s been a long process.
And, what am I writing?
I’m ghostwriting an autobiography; I say “ghostwriting”, but I’m actually co writing, really. Simonne Jameson is a Holocaust survivor who spent three years, from the age of twelve, locked up in the cellar of the Paris National library by her local police. She was raped daily, sometimes she had more than one visitor a day, and sometimes they were brutal. They brought basic food, comics, sometimes lollies. She was surrounded by books and rats, no natural light, no clean clothes other than what she had on. By the time of the Liberation of Paris and her release, she had tuberculosis and weighed 37 kilograms. She had never entered a Nazi camp; her tormentors were her own people, the French men who lived in her quarter.
Despite this crazy start to life, Simonne, who was born Simonne Levi, has marvelled at life, taking it into her own hands and living it in a way most of us can only dream of. Simonne has been married four times, has five children (one of whom she adopted when she was 50), has been in the theatre, travelled the world, studied psychotherapy under Carl Jung, has known Picasso, Dali and Chagall, has been an art curator (and still is), and a child counsellor. Did I forget anything? Probably.
So, while I’m looking forward to having this manuscript finished, I can’t imagine a day when it’s no longer echoing in my head.
It’s for writers, about writers, by writers. Go on, check it out. There’s a fine interview with Alain de Botton and the fabulous Samone Bos of Lifeinacircus
I sometimes read interviews with writers but nothing comes even remotely close to the sorts of pieces from The Paris Review. I went through a magazine collecting phase a few years back and, along with some primo editions of Rolling Stone and Face, I nabbed some old editions of the Review. Beautiful, vintage pieces that delved into the real whys and hows of writing. The Hemingway piece is still a favourite. Check out their online archives. I see that the current edition has Jonathan Franzen talking about the art of fiction.
Nothing gets me more than when a writer, when asked why they write, responds with “I just need to.” What the hell does that mean?
Writing is one of the most solitary conditions. Not as solitary as, say, being trapped in a mine or deep sea diving, but it’s definitely a solo act where you get trapped inside your own head.
I write because I like to tell stories, because I want to see and readwhat’s in my head. And I like seeing my name on things.
Here are a few more things I ask myself.
1. Is the simple act of writing enough or do I need to get published? 2. When should I write? Morning? Night? Do I need silence? Quite frankly, I can write anywhere because I, quite literally, escape into my head. 3. Do I care about what people want to read? Am I abreast of the latest trends in fiction? I hear that historical romance is dead but paranormal romance is HOT. 4. Should I write to a schedule? 1000 words a day? Two hours a day? Every day? Weekends. Or will I just write whenever I can? 5. What do I like to read? Whose voices speak to me the most? Do I read for story or style? 6. What about me? Is story key? Or is literary style most important? 7. Am I able to write what I don’t know or will I limit myself to my experiences? 8. If I don’t get a novel published, what other publishing paths am I prepared to take? Self publishing? POD? 9. How about writing groups? 10. How do I stay motivated when the ideas simply aren’t flowing or like’s kicking me in the guts and writing’s the last thing on my mind? 11. What am I prepared to do to make this happen? 12. Writing contests? Huge potential or letdown? 13. Will people think I’m writing my own life?
Writing is a long process that involves listening, often to things you don’t want to hear. I tell the stories that I know; not verbatim but, rather, a retelling of the ideas. Often these are tales that my parents have imparted and tales that they have invented purely for my amusement.
My father is fond of the wandering fable and that is how I like to tell my stories. It is a voice that always exasperated me for it meandered ever so slowly—“get to the point,” I would often say but, for him, there was no other way to tell a story. And as my mother says, “a story can be told in many ways, and sometimes, the telling is just as important as the story itself.” Hopefully you will agree.
Mostly I like to tell stories that I think I remember. To me, my childhood is always sunny, filled with the hopeful sounds of cicadas and bees, trails of ants making their way to their underground lairs, split figs and shiny loquat seeds discarded in the yard, boys riding rusty BMX bikes out the front of the school during recess and the thin black strap behind a nun’s oak desk. That’s what I remember.
I don’t know about you, but sometimes I’ll be watching a film and I’ll be, like, “Man, I wish I had written that screenplay.”
Like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Or I’ll be listening to a song and think: “Man, I wish I’d come up with that lyric.”
Like:
“…Meat-eating orchids forgive no one just yet
Cut myself on Angel Hair and babys breath
Broken hymen of your highness I’m left black
Throw down your umbilical noose so I can climb right back” (Nirvana – Heart Shaped Box)
Or I’ll be watching a TV show or film and think: “Man, I wish I’d written thay line.”
Like this classic from Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead:
and: “God! What is your childhood trauma?!” (Cordelia to Buffy in Buffy the Vampire Slayer)
Or I’ll be reading a book and think, “Man, I wish I’d written that book.”
Seriously, Hollywood Ending is like nothing I’ve read of late. It’s set in one of my favourite places in the world, LA, and even though I’m only halfway in, it captures the voices of local and bored kids who have that nuanced way of looking at the world and avoiding themselves thanks to all of the shit they surround themselves with. I love a tale told with sad irony. I love the jaded descriptions of faded Hollywood. Of old folks with long memories and young folks with nothing to do. Of D-listers hanging out in West Hollywood in the hope of being discovered by the paparazzi. It’s spunky writing by Kathy Charles. I wish I’d written it.
But anyway, here’s something I DO wish I’d written, and, um, I actually did.
Well I’ve set myself quite a task. Remember how JJ and I tried to crack an egg or two (make lebabies) and how it didn’t work, well since then I’ve embarked on a hella adventure to find THE THING that I’m here to do instead. And despite discovering the Meaning of Life, which helped me to see that maybe none of that shislik is important, I get this godawful, uneasy feeling that I’m supposed to be doing something. Last week, JJ and I thought that it was possibly because I’m going through the change – albeit VERY EARLY (and it would explain everything), but aside from this symptom, I haven’t feel the need to buy a sports car or get a divorce. So anyway, I’m NOT going through the change although I did allow myself a few blissful weeks feeling as though I was.
So I’ve been looking, looking, looking. I even studied and became a life coach (as seen on the Gilmore Girls – not me, Paris’s Life Coach after the meltdown). But helping others to find their bliss still left me feeling short changed. What about me? It’s like a Pyramid Scheme – you help others to help other to help others but nobody actually finds their bliss….
Whatever, so I discovered that I’m a writer and that’s the reason I’m here. OH RIGHT, that old chestnut. Because I sorta realised that when I was a young teenaged lass and wrote a novel. Oh, and that other novel I wrote and have been rewriting. Oh and the short stories and such. So there I’ve been, scampering around looking for something OTHER THAN the thing that’s under my nose.
Good, huh.
And then I was reading this book, Living Oprah (which is actually not so great because it really could have been so much more, so I won’t link to it). But it did get me thinking of doing something similar – a la Julie and Julia or Supersize Me. You know, where you take a concept and live by it for a period of time.
But what?
Because I like to follow arrows as I have mentioned before, it had to be something that has a step by step plan, something that I can follow absolutely. So JJ and I brainstormed (may have been altered for dramatic emphasis):
Me: JJ, I still haven’t worked out my Life Purpose. Do you have any suggestions?
JJ: How about following Anthony Robbins? He has a purpose.
Me: Well sure, but I don’t want a jet plane.
JJ: How about a million bucks then?
Me: I’d go for that. But I can’t be bothered following Robbins. He kinda freaks me out. I don’t think he sleeps.
JJ: Martha Stewart?
Me: Well you know how I love Martha, and she’s the source of much revelry. But she doesn’t sleep either.
JJ: That’s how she comes up with all that creativity.
Me: Hm. Yes. That and prison.
JJ: Well how about writing a novel?
Me: Oh, that old chestnut.
Pause for 2 days.
Me [today via Skype]: JJ I’ve got it. I’m going to kill two birds with one stone – I’m going to do The Artist’s Way and blog it. How do you like them apples?
JJ: Delicious! I’ll do it with you!
So that’s it. New project to come. Now if only I could find my freaking copy of the book.
So I am nearly at the end of this draft – the third. THANK CRIPES.
Photo by leah jones
