Travelling write along…

Short Story Day Africa website is up!

And here it is: Short Story Day Africa

Please have a look! Published authors are putting their stories up for you to read for free. Lauri Kubuitsile provided yesterday's lovely read: The Colours of Love. Today Jenna Mervis (who keeps chickens!) has provided a touching short story for KIDS: Kumbi And The Elephants.

The stories will keep coming, so please do keep checking in.

Many thanks for your support of the art of the short story.

Okay, yesterday’s post was a bit of a downer

I’m fine. Not perfect. But who is perfect? Exactly. I am fine. I have lots of great things in my life. Like chickens!

Hmm…not the most uplifting photo.

How about one of the dog?

Now look at that. Pure, pure, happiness on the beach. You can practically hear Born Free playing in the background of that one.

Anyway – Good news! Well, for me, anyway. I’m going to the Cape Town Book Fair to, er, gawk. These book events are kind of like my own private Hollywood. I sit there going ‘oooh, oooh that’s…’ and laugh like a loon (inside, if I did it out loud people would give me the sly eye) and become rather delighted with life.

So I am going. Very happy.

I am also looking forward to meeting Rachel Zadock in person. Yes, the woman who is charge of this Short Story Day Africa festival of madness. (Oh, it isn’t driving you mad? Fair enough.)

In the meantime, I am polishing up my plans for the writing workshop I’ll be doing on the 20^th of June. I am thrilled about this. But in the back of my mind there is always this worry the kids will turn on you.

Like zombie garden gnomes*. Did you hear about them? (Google at your peril!) And yes, these garden gnomes are another thing I’ve picked up from Rachel.

Internet friends: they can be a bad, bad influence.

*I do not seriously believe children are in any way like zombie garden gnomes. They are always perfect angels whom I love dearly. All of ‘em. Even that teething baby in the back sporting a double ear infection. And that toddler over there who has ingested every E chemical under the sun with a healthy dose of high-fructose corn syrup. Darlings. Love them!

Pity party for one, your table is ready

Bit blue last night. There I was, at the dojo, standing on the sidelines doing nothing. It was not a kicking day. ‘Maybe I should quit,’ I thought. Not for the first time. I mean, who needs to punch something?

I walk about three kilometres a day on a very pretty route. That’s nice. I do it with my dog. He occasionally pulls the lead. That’s bad. I do no less than 3K because it helps my core stability. (That’s a necessity!) But must be careful not to walk incorrectly or I could cause problems in my knees, pelivis, shoudlers and...

I swim four days a week, now. That’s good.

Don’t ask me how many laps I do, because swimming fast? That’s bad.

The one or two days a week I swim laps I have to do a modified crawl stroke while my legs alternate between kicking and “frog legs.” But I have to be careful because while some of this is good for stretching out the muscles (tight muscles – that’s bad) too much can lead to more damage on the ligaments. That’s bad.

The other days I swim are these very small exercises that probably burn three calories in the 20 to 40min I am in there. Moving an arm back and forth across my stomach while standing still. Must have resistance. But not add weight to the arm (that’s bad) or pull on my arm, as what happens with a resistance bad (that’s bad). But I must do them somehow some way to gain stability (That’s a necessity!)

Typing? (It’s, err, okay, sometimes, if I follow the list and…)

Mouse? / Editing? (That’s BAD!)

I do Tai Chi once a week. (That’s great ! Core stability!)But have to modify the moves that pull my arms out too far from my body or over my head. (Oh. That’s bad.)

I’m no longer supposed to:

Garden

Knit

Toss a ball to dog or child

Pick up my children

Surf

Swim freestyle

Row or paddle a boat

Sew

Tug on things

Play the piano

Yoga

Pilates (well, some of it)

Sit cross legged (pulls on lower back, hips, pelvis and knees)

Pushups

Does PBS still show Reading Rainbow?

All this Short Story Day Africa kiddie stuff has gone to my head. I found myself humming the old Reading Rainbow theme tune. My goodness, I haven't thought of that PBS program for years.

 

Short Story Day Africa

Winter is barking on South Africa's door, which means it is time for Short Story Day Africa.(Link is to the FB page. Website is still getting its ducks in a row, so to speak.)

But last year it was Short Story Day South, I hear you say.

It was.

But now more countries* have joined, so the name changed to encompass the greater participation.

This lovely news has caused a few changes in my life. Such as the following announcement:

Short Story Day Africa is pleased to announce that Tiah Beautement has joined the team as Kids' co-ordinator. Email kids@shortstorydayafrica.org should you want to follow her example and run similar events, or pick her clever brain for ideas.

This had led to the following:

1. I'm on Twitter.

Yes, I know I've said in the past I would not be a twit. But the future is now, and it demands I put my stubbornness aside and evolve. I have no clue how to link my twitter account to my blog (will look into it) so for now, if you like the world of tweet-tweet my name is ms_tiahmarie. (There were already tiah_marie and tiah and tiahmarie...geepers - who know there were so many of us out there? No tiah_beautement though. That may be because I'm the only one on planet earth, but just a guess.)

2. I am running two workshops for a local primary school.

I am nailing down a program this week. Ideas are flying. Keeping the youngest group pretty simple. We will be focusing on building chain stories. I have slightly more ambitious plans with the second lot. My theme is inanimate objects.

If you have any suggestions or ideas, feel free to toss them at me. If you want to do something similiar**, let me know. I love to brain storm with others.

On a side note, I am hoping this turns into something I do on a regular basis, not just once a year. I am also hoping to do this with other schools in the area, not just the one my children attend. But for now, baby steps. I get into too much trouble when I take giant leaps.

Besides, we don't want my wrists to totally stop speaking to me.

*Once again, just a friendly reminder, Africa is a continent, not a country. Nor is Southern Africa a country. It is like Western Europe - Spain, France and Portugal etc still draw their boarders deep. South Africa (Republic of South Africa to be precise) is a country. I live in it.

** You do not have to be a children's writer to do this. I'm not. You must simply have the desire to pass on your love for the written word to the adults of tomorrow. (And keep your program age appropriate, of course.)

Despite the acting classes, I never did master the art of faking it

I am writing everything wrong. There is no marketable idea. I am not tapping into a trend. The length of the work will probably end up in that awful middle ground between too long and too short.

I know this.

I can't stop writing it.

There is always, of course, the risk that the actual work isn't written very well. But the reality is, even if I became a master of spelling, grammar and syntax, this story will probably end up joining the infamous drawer.

In the end, there is always the option of a good bottle (or two) of wine and playing Mika on repeat, dancing till I drop.

Could be rather fun, actually. Something to look forward to, then.

 

 

 

 

It would have been better if I'd been kicked in the shin and punched in the face

Ah life, you are hilarious. I was having a wonderful Monday: wrote a blog post, did some ground work for Short Story Day South '12 and even chipped away at my ms. No, my arms (yes, we're having trouble with both now, although left still much better than right) have not made a miraculous recovery - but for me!, this was a good day. 

Then I went to school to fetch my children.

We all make mistakes.

Children were happy to see me, one grabbed my left index finger just so, squeezed and yanked in a manner probably impossible to replicate and - ouch.

I was sore. As mentioned above, left wrist has had some problems, so I assumed it was simply touchy about being yanked on.

I wished fellow parents good day. I had a brief chat with a child's teacher. I calmly got children into car. I drove off to swim lessons and...

My fingers began to tingle. It traveled up the entire arm into shoulder. I started to feel nauseated. By the time I reach swim lessons (6min drive?) I was ready to throw up, my arm was both in pain, yet I couldn't really feel it - and whoa. Began to panic that I'd really damaged something.

Where I shoved my children at the swim teacher and began phoning various people for help. Then I ended up spending the rest of the afternoon in the physio's office.

Apparently (and I am no doctor) it is just a freak thing, managed to upset a nerve, which alerted some defense response and my body basically freaked out over something that was incredibly minor. Unfortunately, the nerves freaking out upset the muscle system, which decided we needed to fight - so they started tensing up ready to battle. This helped those headaches right along, and gave me a very sore arm. One that even when all was said and done, still didn't want to type. It was too tired. It had a day.

Ridiculous.

But true.

So I felt like utter crap - ill, sore, missing sensation in my entire arm - yet actually fine. There is no damage. One simply needs to relax. Oh yes, this is common enough there is reading material on the subject. It suggests things like candle lit dinners, reading poetry, baths...

Yes, because when I'm dizzy and want to hurl I'm all over that poetry.

?

But physio kept poking me, then having me rest, then poked again and rest (while focusing on important breathing technique) and so on until I could sit up without risking losing my lunch and actually feel my fingers.

Thus, since Monday evening, I've been spending my fine time trying to chill while sort of keeping up with the rest of my life. The loser in all of this is my poor dog, Orwell. Because while I am supposed to keep walking (a relaxing activity) there are no arms left willing to hold a lead.

Dog is not amused. Pulling sad faces at every opportunity.

Fellow walkers yesterday were also not amused, worried that 'The dog lady' (yes, I was called that) had something bad happen to her dog.

Dog is fine. Just pathetic.

Dog will be walking tomorrow should recovery continue to progress as nicely as it has.

 

Kermit the Frog was a major influence in my childhood

'What do you write?'

I've struggled with the question for years. It was asked again this weekend.

'The little things,' I said.

I have been described as a 'broad strokes' writer. The story, not the word for word prose, is what appeals. I do not disagree. It is also true that a fair chunk of the stories tackle bigger issues, but they always do so in the details of the every day. The pesky human interaction of messy life.

Which reflects how I have lived. A person who has moved between various countries, camps with bears and gives birth to children in a comedy of errors that Hollywood would never try to script. But my day to day life is rather dull. I enjoy my quiet. I make the kids spend quality time playing without a parent directly hovering overhead. But when asked if we can go chase a rainbow, as we did on Friday, I am right there with the car keys. It was stunning.

 

Now I can't stop thinking about the children's book 'Harold's Purple Crayon'

The physio has decided that I need to have braces made up specifically to use while I work. Even the touchpad isn't enough to keep me from hurting myself while I skim around on the computer.

When I meet this brace-making person, would it be wrong to ask if I could have them in purple?

A nice random colour that doesn't try to pretend it could blend into my flesh, and black is so done, white gets dirty easily, red could be angry and yellow looks ill.

So purple?

I'll probably lose my nerve.

On a totally different note, I looked up the Youtube video To R.E.M's Losing My Religion, since I referenced it earlier in the week for my BookLive post.

Enjoy!

 

Writing like a martial art

Two and half months into my latest ms and I am 1,500 words shy of 20,000 words. In February 2011, I wrote 50,000 in two weeks. Perhaps I am invoking* the spirit of Andie Miller's Slow Motion.

Or tackling Rachelle Gardner's No 1 of 7 Bad Habits of Successful Authors** - Impatience.

My writing Bff and I have christened this draft The Tai Chi MS.

*I'm pretty sure it isn't evoke - as I'm not trying to write like Andie Miller. Although she does write very well. But feel free to correct me.

**Link courtesy of writing Bff