Sunday Story - late edition

Sorry, Sunday is almost over. I've been thinking of a post but hadn't managed any action until now. And you'd think with all my contemplation that I'd have something fabulous, wouldn't you? But alas.

I've been reading a lot lately but nothing has grabbed me. I haven't read anything so fabulous I have to share. Nor have I read anything truly terrible. And I guess that's a good representation of most books. There are millions upon billions of books in the world, and only a percentage become best sellers or timeless classics. Most fall into the mid-range of ordinary book. Some people will love them, some won't, but they aren't terrible.

I think when I'm writing I forget that. I want fabulous, and writing is such a difficult process that I can't see fabulous even if I fell over it. All I see is awful. So I need to think less, and just write. I have myself caught up in craft, emotion, marketability...when I need to just love my story and write. Worry about all that stuff later.

It's so easy to doubt myself and question my ability. It's so easy to listen to the negativity inside me, and the perfectionist who wants only the best right now this minute. I have to drown them out and write freely. Love the writing process and forget about the things that happen afterwards.

That's not easy for me to do...but I'm going to try to block out all noise, and write!

Phallic Friday - idiots, wankers and more

Dickheads are everywhere.

Before I start on this post, let me tell you that I'm no femme fatale. I do not fall into the attractive category at all. But sometimes, dickheads, idiots and wankers don't seem to notice. And I am a magnet for all nutcases!

As I've aged, I don't seem to have as many run-ins with men as I used to, which is quite a relief! But I was reminded the other day that I've had some classic encounters.

This story is a classic wanker story. I was at a friend's party - a BBQ in her backyard. I lived out of town and so I was also staying at her house before and after the party. I'm a bit of a sports nut and a rugby union test game was on late on the party night, which was fine because as the party wound down, I could put the TV on and watch the game (I think it was in England). I figured there'd be other people keen to watch too.

What I didn't figure on was being hit on by one of the watchers. And no one else watched the game but me.

He came into the room (it was my friend's boyfriend's brother) and was fairly drunk, with slurred words and swaying body. He plonked on the couch behind me, I was in a beanbag on the floor. Winter, so I had a blanket over me. I wasn't plastered. He started making verbal passes at me, which I ignored. Heck, I was watching the game!

Then there were sounds from behind me. Sounds that weren't something I associated with watching football. The slick sound of skin on skin, rubbing, stroking. I was watching the footy, thinking, "You are so perverted. He's not doing that. No way is he wanking as he talks dirty to you and you ignore him. No way."

But it followed the louder, faster pattern. I couldn't believe it.

At an ad or half time (can't quite remember now) I snuck a peek by turning my head just a little. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a full on look. Oh, hell. Yep, he was wanking.

What to do? If I got up, would that encourage him more? By now most people are gone or passed out so no one is going to help me much. Or do I keep ignoring him and hope to heck he passes out, or something? I'd no idea what to do. Your Mum never teaches you what to do in these situations - well, mine didn't!!

Anyway, footy came back on and I decided it was more important than him, so I ignored him.

He didn't like that. He came around and stood between me and the TV and continued to wank. Bloody hell, he was ruining my footy! Yet, he seemed to think I should be impressed by his body/job/dick/whatever. I wasn't. It was a serious good game of union and I wanted to watch the game, not him.

He wouldn't give in. I pulled the blanket over my head, peeking through a rip in the fabric to watch just the edge of the TV screen, and ignored the wanker wanking. By about three-quarters of the way through, he gave up, or passed out or something. Thank God!

I got to watch the end of a very exciting game of union, with no cheering for fear of waking up someone for round 2!!

I've no idea why this guy thought he was irresistible. I've no idea why he thought me watching union was a sign I wanted his body, or to watch his body.

I just thank god, I got out of there without having to resort to violence, or worse.

And yeah, my friend and her boyfriend didn't stay together long after that. So I never had to see the wanker and his wiener again! :)

Wildlife Wednesday - bogeye

This is a Bogeye. He's not from the coast but from inland. I took this photo a few years ago when we lived in central western NSW.

A Bogeye is also called a Shingleback (pretty easy to see why!), and can also be called a stumpy-tail lizard, Boggi, sleepy lizard, bobtail lizard, two headed lizard, pine cone lizard (Australia's pretty obvious when it comes to lizard names, isn't it?).

Bogeye's are the bulkiest of the Blue Tongue Lizards (you can see the coastal one here). They always remain west of the Great Dividing Range (which is why they aren't on the coast).

They're not fast moving lizards. My dog, Ellie, had a thing for them. She could hunt them out anywhere (they must have a distinct scent). She would delicately pick them up around their middle and bring them in to me (like a cat gifting you a mouse). I've no idea why she did it, but they were mighty cranky by the time they arrived at my feet. Ellie would look at me like she was the best dog in the world, and the Bogeye would be hissing and spitting, mouth wide open, trying to scare me. They have a really pink mouth whith a huge ribbony blue tongue, which they point and poke at you. As you try to pick them up, they try to spin and whirl and they can give a nasty bite. Lucky for me, they're slow moving!

The Australian Museum site has some info, including this:

Shingleback Lizards live alone for most of the year, but between September and November reunite as monogmous pairs. Shinglebacks in western New South Wales are often seen crossing roads in pairs, the male following the female. The same pairs may re-form in the mating season over several years.

Female Shinglebacks give birth three to five months after mating, between December and April.
The embryos develop in the female's oviduct with the help of a placenta, which is as well-developed as that of many mammals. At birth, the young eat the placental membranes, and within a few days shed their skin for the first time. The young are ready to look after themselves straight after birth, and disperse within a few days.

The Shingleback has usually only two or three young that measure up to 220 mm in total length and weigh as much as 200 g.

Sunday Story - brave new world

I wrote this on Monday:
So, I'm setting off on a new adventure - a non-romantic adventure. I'm going to try my hand at erotica, in the novel form. I've had this idea kicking around in my head for 5 years but I haven't been able to resolve it. This week, things aligned inside my brain. I'm being brave and making the move to erotica. It may not be permanent, but for this story, Past Lives, it will be.

Past Lives is a story that I've written and rewritten, taken to workshops and revamped, cursed and sworn over. I have about 100 files in this folder with various starts, restarts, scenes, plans, ideas and bits and pieces. I haven't been able to make it work because in my mind, it doesn't have a happy ending. I'm not 100% sure what the ending is (because I don't write if I know the end) all I know is that it will end 'up in the air' in some way - because that's how I see life.

I kept wanting this to be a romance, because it's about love in its deepest, purest form, but I couldn't make it work.

A whole heap of things have been happening in my brain, but on the weekend I read the news article about Rebekah Brooks and the News of the World scandal thing. I was a bit horrified that her marriage and sex life got called into the case, and wondered if that would happen if she was male... but when those thoughts disappeared, I realised, it's another woman, married, but with an affair on the side.

The other week I posted (here) about wanting to write about a woman having a clandestine affair, and what I chicken I was about it.

Well, chicken no more.

Maybe the world is ready for my story. Maybe I can be brave and tell it.

I'm going to write my Past Lives story. I'm going to write it how I envisage it. I'm not going to worry about romance, or happy endings. I'm going to write the book I see in my mind - affairs, sexless marriages, women being bad, men being awful, lots of sex, lots of confusion, actually, who knows what it is because all I've got are a 100 random snippets to pull together or discard!

So, I'm off on the next journey in this writing world. Wish me luck - I think I'm going to need it!

(And just so you know, I'm writing this to be accountable. I've fart-arsed around for a couple of weeks now trying to work out which story to work on next! At least now I have a plan, and it's in writing)

And today it's Saturday, and I'm struggling. I can;t work out how old my heroine is, if she is married or not. Nothing's working!!!!! I have another 3K of probably wasted scene.

But I'll keep trying to make this work...

might just duck off to another half-done manuscript while my brain works on this one.

Bloody hell. Some days this is hard!