Human again

It is so good to be feeling human again. The flu hung around for about ten days but it only took a meeting with my writers group to start feeling energised again and then two days later I was back at work.

Mind you, it was hard to get back into that mindshift of getting up in the morning and going to work, instead of sleeping half the day. That's the trouble with being an owl instead of a lark. Mornings are torture.

So now I've rejoined the human race, I have lots to do. Besides catching up with sleep while I was sick, I also watched a few movies: Music and Lyrics (never say no to a Hugh Grant movie), Stranger than Fiction (especially interesting from a writer's point of view). I haven't brought myself to watch Volver yet - the fact that I'd have to read the movie and that it's over 3 hours along is a bit offputting at this point. Maybe Sunday. Plus I read Undead and Unpopular, Oh my Goth, Seven Steps on the Writers Journey, Pen on Fire, and I'm now halfway through Blind Submission.

Last year when I created Chickollage as a term for my chick lit collage poetry, I also started the Chickollage blog, talked a bit about it here and there, opened the Cafepress shop, and then about a month later looked up chickollage.com to find that someone had bought the domain about a week after I started the blog. I guess they were waiting for me to make millions and then sell the domain back to me for squillions. Well, I haven't made millions and their registration has expired so I'm now the proud owner of the domain, trying to work out what I'm going to put on it. Yet another thing on the to do list, but I'm imagining it will soon feature my favourite collage poems, a daily poem (yes, got to get back into the daily habit), and links to the big wide collage poetry world.

And yes there is writing to do. I'm anxiously waiting for feedback from the Chick Lit writers competition for Diary of the Future, to see if I'm on the right track or not. And I need to rewrite the synopsis. I'm going to break it down to the three act structure then use the turning points to construct the skeleton of the synopsis as Jenny Cruisie suggested at the Romance Writers Conference. Then I want to rewrite the beginning two more times (with different starting points) and events to see which one works best. I need to get this one polished up and out the door by the end of October so I can dive into another round of Nanowrimo in Novmber.

It's all happening...

It's raining, it's pouring

It's a bit wet here at the moment.

So wet, we can't even drive out and get a loaf of bread.

This is the road to the local shop. There is a bridge under all that water.

And this is the road to the local supermarket. You can see a couple of broken down cars on the other side of the water. I guess they drove through it.

There are only two roads out and they are both underwater so I guess we just have to hibernate for a while. I'm glad our house is on higher ground although the backyard is very soggy.

Not our backyard!

Back from Sydney

I'm back from Sydney with a souvenir that I didn't want - the flu! But other than that piece of baggage the trip was great.

7 days seems like a lot of time in a city when you start planning a trip but then I took out 3 days over the weekend for the Romance Writers Conference, another day to travel across the city for a meeting with Aurora TV, a day to recover from the conference, a day to travel out to the burbs to meet the new nephews and a day to have another meeting, a visit to the doctor for my partner and the Chris Wilson gig at The Vanguard, and suddenly its time to come home again. Sorry for anyone that I did not manage to catch up with. Being busy on the weekend meant that I really couldn't catch up with friends who were working. Next time.

The conference was fantastic and it was lovely to meet so many enthusiastic writers. The Jennifer Cruisie workshop was awe inspiring and left me with a lot of food for thought. Other workshops were just as informative - in fact I wrote pages and pages in my notebook.

I forgot to take my recharger and rechargeable batteries so I ran out of battery power just before the masquerade so I didn't take any photos that night. It was extremely colourful, full of sequins and feathers and I had a hard time recognising faces the next day. In fact, I didn't end up taking many photos at the conference at all - just lots of notes.

It was really odd hanging around Annandale, our old stomping ground. It has changed so much since we lived there. Our old abode, which was above and beyond the butcher shop is now a restaurant and two units. There is now a gourmet pizza bar, the North Annandale hotel is totally spruced up (and how much is it to hang around pubs now without the haze of smoke!)

While it was nice to be away and hang out with writers and meet new members of the family, its also good to return home. Dorkus the cat certainly thinks so. He didn't treat the cattery as a detention centre this time, going on a hunger strike. This time he ate as he was supposed to. But he's happy to be home and following me around everywhere. That is when I'm vertical. Because this flu is not allowing many opportunities for that.

One sleep to Sydney

One more sleep and then we're off to Sydney. Very exciting although I'm sure Dorkus is already cursing me and feeling very sorry for himself because he's already delivered to the cattery. Last time he was there, he reckoned he was in a detention camp and went on a hunger strike -- he's there longer this time so he better eat something! Mind you, it wouldn't hurt him to lose some of that extra fat.

Sydney is shaping up to be really good. Not only do I have 3 days with writers in writing workshops at the Romance Writers of Australia conference, I will get to see my new nephew Damon, my relatively new nephew William and my niece Abby.

Plus I've just had the pleasure of visiting Chris Wilson's website to check out his tour dates and he will be performing in Newtown on the 15th August. And I haven't seen him perform for approx 8 years. Plus it's a relaunch of that beautiful album Live at the Continental. This time - Live at the Vanguard. A very fitting night out for our anniversary. Certainly more appealing than driving back home for 7 hours in the car. That can wait until Thursday.

Major updates in the Chickollage shop - lots of new photo collage designs by Jennifer Gordon, with some Photoshop doctoring by myself. Check out the Cards for all Occasions section.

Will be back during the week with news and updates of the Sydney trip.

Byron Bay Writers Festival - I'm back

I took my mask out for a practice run on Thursday. It was the Coffs Cup and although I didn't go to the races, we were encouraged to dress up as if we were going to the races that morning at work. I had decided to wear my mask and put on some velveteen pants and a purple top. I was hunting around in my wardrobe for a jacket, when I swear a dress started to speak to me, insisting that I should wear it to work. It's a gorgeous long maroon/purple dress with a lace overlay and I haven't worn it for many years. I think the last time I wore it was to a winter wedding. So I took it out and put it on.

Dorkus discovers my mask has feathers.

Must've known something. I won a bottle of wine and a small box of choccies for being the Most Extravagantly Dressed. And the dress felt good. I may even wear it again to the Romance Writers' Conference Masquerade instead of the dress for which I'd orginally colour coordinated the mask.

Some of the Byron Bay pilgrimage.

I had a great weekend at the Byron Bay Writers Festival. Even eleven women with only two bathrooms didn't seem to matter. Actually, I didn't spend any down time in the cabin during the day. I was at the Festival from around 9.30 each morning until 5pm filling my head with writerly notions, literary aspirations and recharging my writing mojo. I ate at the site, I even braved the Kenny-style monster feet-pedal-flushing portaloos.


I resisted the urge of all those books in the Dymocks tent, although I mentally noted a number to track down at a later time. However I did buy The Shadow Thief by Alexandra Adornetto. What an amazing self-assured and gorgeous young lady she is! I got a shock several pages into the book to discover that the sister's name is Dorkus, the same as my cat. I sometimes see Dorcas but not spelled the exact same was as my boy!

Alexandra Adornetto on the Young and Female panel.

I was able to talk to Eva Sallis, who taught me Novel Writing many years ago in Adelaide, and thank her for setting me on the path. I really believe that people come into our lives at exactly the right time. And at that time I was ready to start on that path. In another session about publishing, they discussed the importance of having a writing community, and I know I have that with the wonderful Nambucca Valley Writers Group. So now I have my writing mojo back, and plan to have even more with the Romance Writers of Australia conference next weekend.

Blogoff post - VICTORY

It's not if you win, it's how you play the game.

So they say. But there is still a joyful sweetness in victory, in being the best, that isn't matched by the taste of being runner-up.

My short story Beyond Happily Ever After won second prize in the Mid North Coast Writers Association short story competition which was fantastic. And I still thought how nice would it have been to take out first prize.

Still, if it hadn't been for Carrolline's encouragement I would not even have played that game. I wouldn't even have entered the competition. I hadn't written a short story with any intent for nine years (not counting homework and exercises with the writers group) and was convinced that I couldn't even think of a story that could have a beginning, middle and end in less than 2000 words. Holding the 'I can't do this' thought firmly in my head led me to thinking about fairytales and their short, succinct nature and I started wondered about Cinderella and what happened after the happily ever after. Once I combined the fairy tale traditional nature of the story with the perils of being a modern princess dealing with the tabloids and the pressure to produce an heir, the story practically wrote itself. I've just sent the story off to an anthology...we'll see what happens.

There was a time when I hated losing because my livelihood was depending on it. It's never fun to find out that you came second out of 150 applicants for a job. Then it becomes a what's wrong with me? But there are times over my career where I have applied for jobs that have been totally out of my league, and been hired for a secondary position that wasn't even advertised. I suppose it shows, you've got to be in it to win it. Even if it's not clear what the actual prize is.

One of the ladies at my writers group mentioned last week that she's become a competition addict. She's had a few highly commended but hasn't actually won anything as yet. But I can tell that she's enjoying the journey and in that process, she has her own sweet taste of victory.

Because when we set ourselves a goal and achieve it, we are victors in our own life. Far ahead of the couch potatoes mindlessly flicking the channels. There may be no prizes attached, unless you've bribed yourself with a box of chocolates or a dinner out, but it is the self-fulfillment that is the prize, that gives the sweet taste of victory. Maislow had it right with his heirarchy of needs - self-actualisation is the best. And being victorious does not necessarily mean beating other people. There is enough sweetness of victory for all of us to share...if only we are willing.

This is the final blog-off post in this round of the blogoff. Funny we talk about victory in this post, because yes someone will win and take home the pot of money, perhaps! Or maybe as in the last blogoff, the winner will donate the winnings back to Courtney's fundraiser. The victor is in the list on my sidebar under Blogoff Participants. Who do you think this round's victor will be?

Oh, and my post a little early this week as I'm off to Byron Bay Writers Festival tomorrow morning. Whoopee!

Holidays, Writing Festivals and Conferences

Yeehah! I'm on holidays for a week!

I've been working really hard so these holidays seem more of a luxury than before, and well-deserved.

On Thursday, I go to the Byron Bay Writers Festival for my yearly pilgrimage of stocking up on writing mojo. Four days listening to writers, talking about writing, eating out every night, and sharing writing camaraderie. Twelve of us are going, sharing two cabins and there's a mixture of the usual faces who have trekked to Byron every year and then number of Writers Festival versions. Should be a great time.

But in the meantime, I have four days off and much to do. I'm reading my friend Roby's fantasy trilogy to be published with Pan McMillan next year and the writing is beautifully evocative. I don't usually read fantasy as a rule because of all the description necessary in world-building but this could just about turn me on to the genre. I finished book one last night, and will start book 2 today.

I also have the final three episodes of series 2 of Hex to watch. A very likeable British series - not many out there that can boast having lesbian ghosts.

After Byron Bay, I go back to work for a week of working hard, with a couple of twelve hours days packed in there....and then I go to Sydney to meet new nephews, to catch up with family, and to attend the Romance Writers of Australia conference. I joined Romance Writers after the Cinderella story won 2nd prize in the Mid North Coast Writers Association short story competition. I will be attending a full day workshop with Jennifer Cruisie and four other workshops over the weekend. Really looking forward to immersing myself in learning about the craft of writing.

On the Friday evening, is a masquerade cocktail party, so I got all inspired and decided to create a collage mask. Here are the raw ingredients.

I will bewearing a black dress with embroidered roses, so I decided the colours needed to be black and red to complement the dress, and have rose details, and fit in with the theme of romance.

Because I do collage poetry, I thought that incorporating collaged words would make the mask uniquely 'me'.

I love the result: there's a few more bead strands to add, and I will probably lacquer it to give it a shine, but the process has already sparked a few more 3-D ideas to play around with Chickollage Decoupage.

Speaking of Chickollage, Cafepress is currently having a special promotion: buy 3 t-shirts and get one free. So head on over to the Chickollage shop and while you're there take the time to browse our new section devoted entirely to greeting cards - you now have the option of buying one card, a pack of 10 or a pack of 20, as well as notecards and my Chickollage partner Jennifer Gordaon has come up with some stunning new photo collage designs.

Blogoff Post - Breasts

When I was a teenager I really didn't have any.

Poached eggs maybe.

Bumps that completely disappeared when I lied down on my back.

Even the saying 'More than a mouthful is a waste' couldn't make up for the little I had.

But I ate as much as I wanted and couldn't put on weight. And without any extra body fat my tiny little breasts just weren't going to grow, no matter how many arm exercises I did, chanting 'I must, I must improve my bust.'

And when I got out of hospital four weeks after a car accident, having dropped another dress size, I thought there was no chance.


However, the next three months sitting around watching videos, unable to participate in my usual daily activities (e.g running up three flights of steps with two large pizzas and four bottles of coke) and my less frequent activities (sex!) saw my metabolism began to slow down.

The metabolic effect combined with the side effects of contraception and eating more because I was bored had a noticeable effect. I started to grow breasts, much to my delight. Suddenly there was something to push up with a push-up bra. I developed cleavage. I became voluptuous. Not quite Rubenesque but much more cuddly than skin and bones.

But my new voluptous curves were not just confined to my breasts. I had become curvier all over, curvier stomach, bigger thighs. I had meat on my bones. And I felt healthier. Much more healthier than when I was 48 kilos.

Of course the medical profession doesn't agree. I was mortified when I was told by a doctor doing a health check for my work place that I was obese. I don't feel obese. Sure, it might not always be fun shopping for clothes because designers still design for women with the shape of a fifteen year old boy, but I feel confident in my own skin.

But I get the lectures about the health factors, the need for exercise, the risk of diabetes, stroke, heart attack. And I wonder how unfair is the actual process of losing weight. Can someone explain why the first place that a woman tends to lose weight is her breasts? After all this work! And no matter what I do, I can't seem to shift that spare tyre!


Check out the 20 other bloggers competing in Courtney's blogoff in my sidebar. I'm sure they all have a thing or two to say about this week's topic, Breasts. If you'd like to make a donation to Courtney's three day walk for breast cancer, click on the link.



Other bloggers have talked in previous posts about serendipity. I received the word prompt on Tuesday. On Wednesday I got a call at work from a University. I was curious because I've had nothing to do with this university at all. Apparently they've been trying to locate me for a while for a breast cancer study because of the family history. Not quite serendipity, but certainly interesting timing!

Disappointed there's no photos? You want to see them. Tough titties!

Blogoff ver 2 - post 2 - HOPE

I've never really subscribed to the concept of HOPE. When I was young, perhaps! But I think it was something I grew out of reasonably quickly. Neither do I subscribe to the concept of hopelessness. In every situation, we have a choice of how we react. We are never hopeless.

I did some personal development courses in my early twenties. Somebody in one of those courses defined hope as a 'turd with a cherry on top.' That image, funny enough, has stuck in the back of my mind ever since.

Hope is just a vague fancy if there is no action behind it.

When I was in my twenties, I wanted to be a writer. Yet I only wrote occasionally. I did not write with any discipline and I did not write with any intent. I was busy living a life and dreaming of one day being a writer.

About ten years ago, I re-visited my dreams of being a writer with serious intent. I committed to my dream. And I took concrete action to achieve those dreams. I started to write. I took writing lessons and workshops. I joined a writers' group.

I no longer thing about being a writer or even hope to be writer. I AM A WRITER BECAUSE I WRITE.

I can chant my writer's mantra: 'I will be a published author...I will be a published author.' But I'm not just sitting back and hoping for it. I am writing. I am editing. I am doing the hard yards. And at the same time, I'm remembering that it's not just about the destination...it's all about the journey

One day I will hold my published book in my hand. But it's not something I'm hoping for. I've done the creative visualisation. I've done the actualisation by having a Lulu.com copy of one of my manuscripts printed for myself. No, it's not something I'm hoping for. It's something I'm striving for.

One last thing about HOPE - we can all hope that one day they will find a cure for breast cancer. But we can also do something about it.

I am.

I'm blogging in this blogoff along with 20 other great bloggers listed in my blogroll. We're blogging to help Courtney raise money and to raise awareness. If you would like to do something to help the cause, then follow the links. This is the second post in Blogoff version 2. To support Courtney in her fundraising for the Three Day Walk for Breast Cancer, visit her website at Five Second Dance Party or click on this link:

When Inspiration wakes you....

It's 1 pm on Sunday afternoon and I'm still in my pyjamas. Pretty slack, hey?

But let me explain. I've been working hard. My creative juices were fired up, so I jumped on the laptop to seize the thought while it was still in my brain.

I've been staying up late reading my friend's soon-to-be-published fantasy novel trilogy. I'm up to chapter five of tiny tiny print, single spaced double sided but I'm involved in the story and I want to read all (gulp) 450,000 words.

Anyway, her success has got me inspired once again and although I slept late this morning (blame the couple of 12 hour days I worked this week), my subconscious was mulling over my young adult manuscript Diary of the Future and I woke up with a fully-composed query letter in my mind. It's now on the hard drive. It's a bit left of field but I think that's okay.

Now all I have to do is compress my five page double-spaced synosis into one single-spaced page and give those first three chapters another polishing. And I'm ready! Finally, eight years of constant writing, and I'm finally getting brave enough to submit....

Blogoff post: Survivor

Welcome to blogoff number 2 - this time there are no eliminations, no voting off the island, everyone will survive. Just like the song!

I'm pleased about that. I hated the eliminations, seeing a friendly voice disappear each week. This blogoff is much more inclusive but with 21 people playing the game, we will have a lot of words to read each week. And its great to welcome new people amongst the now familiar bloggers. All the bloggers are listed in the menu under 'Blogoff Participants.' Please pay them a visit.

I was surprised that I was a survivor for so long during the last competition. I'm not known for my survival skills. Leave me on an island, and I'd probably starve, go bonkers or both. I'd be totally consumed by chocolate cravings, and would probably start hallucinating, imagining that everything around me is turning to chocolate... just like the Cadbury commercial. Maybe I'd come to my senses just as I start gnawing on the palm tree. But maybe not.

While I don't think I'd cope very well if I was alone on an island or in the jungle, its not the being alone bit that I would mind. I often crave solitude. Especially after a day at work where I've been surrounded by noise all day, the constant chatter, the voices raising, the endless voices on the end of the telephone. Sometimes I just want silence when I get home. A chance for my mind to rest, for my ears to relax, and for my tongue to be still. Perhaps that's why the internet is so alluring - I can converse with fingers on the keyboard, and there is no accompanying white noise.

All I need to cope with the solitude is pen and paper. Or a laptop. Although I guess a laptop wouldn't last long on an island - unless it came with a solar charged battery.

Have you ever felt that your life is just about survival? Each day blends into another, and you constantly get a feeling of deja vu, because you've done exactly the same thing the day before. My life is flashing before my eyes, and I have nothing to mark one day off from the next. I'm spending a lot of extra time at work, and the collage poetry is not happening, the writing isn't happening, I've barely got it together to even write this post. But I keep telling myself I will survive. It's a temporary phase that I'm going through. And in three weeks time, I'll be on holidays, and travelling to Byron Bay Writers Festival. Until then, I have to survive. I've already paid for the ticket.

This is the second blogoff organised by Courtney at Five Second Dance Party. Raising money towards breast cancer research, for four weeks we blog on a one word topic. If you would like to make a donation to the cause, click on the banner at the top of the post which will take you to Courtney's fundraising page.

Why writing is better than booze

Yesterday, it started to feel as if I was at an AA meeting. We had several new people show up at our monthly writers' group meeting and we were going around the circle introducing ourselves.

So when Ion before me, commented on the similarity to an AA meeting, I seized the moment to have a bit of fun with my introduction...

'My name is Diane and I'm a writerholic. Luckily, this group does not expect me to give up my addiction and there is no 12-step program to cure me.'

I've been thinking about the whole writing addiction a bit more and have some thoughts about why writing is better than booze (or nicotine or dope for that matter).

Writing is cheap. At the bare minimum, all you need is a pen and paper. Although a computer can be pretty good, but after the initial outlay of costs, the process costs nothing but time and imagination. The same cannot be said for alcohol or cigarettes. (Or photography, painting, sailing, flying or any other number of expensive hobbies.)

Writing is cathartic. You can write out your problems, remove the screaming banshees from your head and sort them out on paper. Sometimes it can even provide a solution, not a hangover.

Writing can be escapist. If reality is getting you down, you can slip into another world of your own creation. Hang out with characters who may be more fun than the real world, even control what happens. And if you don't like the direction the characters take the story, you can rewrite. Better than escaping through alcohol or drugs. Writing can be its own altered state of consciousness.

Writing exercises the grey matter. That's right! You're not killing brain cells, you're feeding them, stimulating them, exercising them, making them jump with joy. If you stimulate them enough, they will even work when you're asleep, discussing the ideas between them in a minature unconscious brainstorming which can unleash a torrent of words when you next boot up the computer or pick up a pen.

Writing can produce a natural high. When you're truly in the zone, and the story is zipping along almost by itself, it can feel fantastic. When you hear an audience laughing at your dialogue in a play that you have penned, it is euphoric. When you capture the perfect phrase or turn of words, you are exhilirated. When you read back your writing months later, you can wonder how you wrote it and where the inspiration came from. And there is no after-effect, no hangover -- unless you've sacrificed sleep and stayed up all night to write.

Writing is expressive. You can say things that you might not say in real life. Role play through characters who are stronger than yourself, or more assertive. You can play with all the 'what-if's?' and create many 'sliding door' moments. And you won't be phoned the day after a drunken binge to have your indiscretions relate back to you.

There are a few drawbacks. BICHOK'ing (Bum in chair, hands on keyboard) for days on end can cause the backside to widen, the hands to cramp and the eyes to lose focus. You must remember to leave the computer every hour, to stretch the legs, to flex the hands, and to gaze off into the distance and re-focus to save your eyesight. Still, it's a small price to pay because your imagination is grateful for the playtime.

So if I had a choice of a night on the booze or the dope, or a night on the computer exercising my imagination, I know which one I would choose!

Issues of formatting

So I finished my entry for the competition and submitted. Diary of the Future now opens with Nicky's little brother dropping fartbombs. I realised recently that I hadn't made use of Tommy's character quite enough. Knowing how annoying little brothers can be. (And yes Chris you were very annoying as a kid, a teenager! Who knew from that you'd turn out to be such a great father.) So now Tommy will make extra very annoying and smelly appearances because his weapon of choice is flatulence.

Last time I entered this particular competition, I received some very odd remarks from one judge who could not cope with the fact that I'd used single quotation marks instead of double quotation marks. Single quotation marks are the standard submission requirement in Australia (and I think the UK) but obviously not the standard in the US. This time, I didn't want a judge to trip over the formatting and be blinded to the story, so I formatted it US style. I changed realise to realize. I changed mobile phone to cell phone (actually did that in the synopsis but didn't do it in the sample chapters.) And I changed the quotation marks. Don't you love find and replace? It's a marvellous thing. Until you realise that all your apostrophes are now double quotation marks. And there as a lot of them! You see, I'm quite fond of contractions. Especially in dialogue. It took quite a while to go through all those pages and change those apostrophes back. Too long!

So I guess the best thing I can do is retrain my typing to use double quotation marks for dialogue. Then when I want to submit to an Aussie publisher I can do a simple 'find and replace' which won't interfere with my apostrophes. But that could be easier said than done. I still haven't retrained myself to type one space after a full-stop instead of two. So the dilemma still stands....

Tagged!

I've been tagged by Simmone Howell, author of Notes from the Teenage Underground. If you haven't read this book, get hold of it - it's a great young adult story with an interesting mixture of pop art and film-making.

So here's the meme:

simmone said...
found ya! and now I'm gonna tag ya:Turn to page 123 in your work-in-progress. (If you haven’t gotten to page 123 yet, then turn to page 23. If you haven’t gotten there yet, then get busy and write page 23.) Count down four sentences and then give us the next paragraph.


Craig draws me closer to him, and smiles. ‘And how did that make you feel?’

Okay so I'm in the middle of a dialogue scene so the paragraph isn't very long. And Craig's name is now Zach, so I better do a quick find and replace. And out of context I'll leave you wondering exactly what 'that' refers to... And it ain't sex!

If I turn to page 123 in the lulu.com printed version, I get:

'Well, thanks for your support, Nicky. It's appreciated.'

More dialogue. What can I say?

So if you are a writer reading this and have a long work in progress: consider yourself tagged. Leave a note in the comments linking to your meme, and I'll drop by.

While you're blogging about works in progress, mangle some prose in the Bonsai Story Generator. It'll give your writing a whole new perspective.

The following is not a blogoff post

No blogoff post from me this week. I've been eliminated from the competition, leaving three wonderful writers still in the race. Check them out and drop them a line: Chris and Evey, Just Another Week, Write2B.

Courtney will be running another blogging competition in July, this time with no elimination but a cumulative total. Drop over to Five Second Dance Party and leave her a comment if you want to play the game.

I was actually surprised that I made it this far in the blog-off. Ironically, I was eliminated just as my chosen word 'dreams' was the topic of the week. I wonder if this has happened with any other blogoff participants. But I'm relieved in a way. This was a hectic week with a work trip to Brisbane and I probably wouldn't have had time to blog. The trip to Brisvegas and the workshop was so full-on, I even succumbed to drinking a coke that first afternoon (I so needed caffeine), and then two glasses of wine later that night. But I haven't relapsed - it was a one-off.

And seriously, we are going to end the blogoff next week (I presume) with the topic SHAMPOO. So glad that I'm not tackling that one.

I feel like I've already won no matter how far I got through the rounds of the blog-off. A new word topic every week challenged every writing muscle I possessed, and probably a few I didn't realise I had. I've discovered I can write on just about any topic presented to me. (still not sure about that 'shampoo' and glad I'm not going to find out.)

One of my big dreams since I first started conjuring up stories was to be a writer. And I have achieved that dream over the years by the mere act of writing, being an active member in my writers' group and participating in writing challenges such as this one. My dream now is to be a published writer (not just published in group anthologies or self-published) and to take a step to achieve that dream, I am now going to log off, turn off the internet, take the laptop out to my front verandah, and work on my Diary of the Future competition entry.

Blogoff Post: Camping

I really don't like camping. I'm just not into the whole pitch-a-tent-thing, sleep on a bit of foam or inflated mattress and commune with the mosquitos. I'm even less enamoured of the communal toilet/shower block or (shudder) the toilet tent or find a tree to hide behind.

I'm a comfort kind of girl. I don't have to have five star luxury, but just the basic necessities to make me feel comfortable - a hot shower, a warm bed, and a toilet that flushes properly.

So it was probably a shock to everyone when I opted to do a three week 'rough tour' of Egypt. I didn't want to see the country from a gilded hotel room and sail down the Nile on a cruiser. No, I wanted to experience the real Egypt so I booked the tour that included camel safaris, camping in the desert, and climbing Mt Sinai. Yes, it was rough and it was dirty, but it would be a big adventure.

We climbed Mount Sinai at sunset, armed with some duty free liquor with the intention of sleeping the night on the mount. Only twenty minutes into the trek I realised that my fitness regime (or lack of) had not prepared me for the climb, so I bought a camel to carry me most of the way. However, my friendly camel had a distubing habit of walking very close to the edge of the trail and it was a long way down - it really didn't do too much for my fear of heights.

Finally we reached the end of the track and the beginning of the steep steps to the summit. Already wobbly from the inner thigh workout that the camel had provided me, I huffed and puffed up the steps thinking I was on a giant stepper machine. What an aerobics workout! I was glad that I had elected to sleep on the mountain for the night because there was no way I could've stumbled back down in the dark.

The night on Mount Sinai was amazing. Bloody freezing, but amazing. Once the sun went down and the sky turned black, we were surrounded by the light of a million stars. So far out of reach of any city lights, the sight was majestic. A little shop sits at the top of the mountain and the enterprising Bedouin stay up there a month at a time, selling tea and hiring out mattresses. (sidenote: the price of bottled water increases as you get further up at the mountain at the little kiosks on the side of the trail - wonder if that is called inflation or ascendation?) Oh, I waited. I asked. But there were no more commandments that night.

There was no chance of sleeping in on Mt Sinai. The next horde of tourists started arriving, chattering, alive at an ungodly hour of four o'clock the next morning. Soon we were surrounded by numerous languages and nationalities. But with a glorious sunrise illuminating the world.

Our next camping adventure was the Camel Safari into the desert with the Bedouin, my second camel ride in two days. We met the group of Bedouin men in a makeshift camel 'carpark' and I can't remember whether we selected our camels or if the camels selected us. I don't think I'd ever get used to a camel getting up off the ground with me on its back. Our mattresses were slung over the camels' backs and we journeyed deep into the rocky desert.

When we arrived, we slung out our mattresses on the ground and the Bedouin entertained us with camel races. That evening, they cooked us food, danced with us, and sang 'That's the Way, aha, aha, I like it, aha, aha.' yes it was KC and the Bedouin band.

I started to think of my Egypt experience as the Sunrise -Sunset tour as I was awake for every sunrise (very unusual for me) and every sunset.

Then we went on our 3 day felucca cruise on the Nile. The boat's captain was also our chef. And our mattresses on the deck were also our day beds, and our dining room. But I tell you, despite the search for somewhere appropriate to ablute when we stopped at shore, I have never been more relaxed in my life. Bliss!

Of course, I didn't mind sleeping out in the open but when I had a choice of pitching a tent or upgrading to a hotel room for 10 egyptian pounds, I always opted for the four walls and the bed.

So, if you ask me if I want to go camping in the Aussie bush, you're very likely to get a resounding 'No thanks' - but if you were to say, let's go and camp out in Egypt, I'd be there again any day. I'll even put up with the 'long drops' just to experience that amazing country again.

This blogoff post is brought to you by the word 'camping'. We are blogging to raise funds for Courtney's 3 Day Walk for Breast Cancer. To make a donation to a great cause, please click on the banner.

Writing, shopping and addictions

Wow, I've survived another week of the Blogoff. There are only four bloggers left. This week we sadly bid farewell to Carly of With a Twist and a Turn. Our next topic is CAMPING and I will be bringing you more tales (and photos) of Egypt on Wednesday. I find each week harder and harder. Not the writing part. That's reasonably easy, especially when my writing muscles are exercised. It's the voting part - that is getting really hard, especially as we have to rank each other's posts. I don't like playing judge and jury.

I've been a bit slack in the blogging department, only blogging for the blogoff topics. I hope you'll excuse me. With workshops, AGM's and a heap of overtime over the past couple of weeks, I haven't been writing much. Now it's time to get serious. I have a competition to enter so need to polish 35 pages of Diary of the Future and write a synopsis. (yes - that bit I have been putting off.) And I'm doing a lot more than polishing the prose. I have rewritten the first scene completely to give much more power to Nicky - now she finds the diary herself, instead of her mother giving it to her. A few weeks to that deadline. I've been motivated by the writing workshop I did a few weeks ago - the tutor gave us one to one session on the Sunday, and was very encouraging about the project. So at the same time, I will be polishing the first three chapters to send to a publisher. Just have to get that synopsis done!!!

My Chickollage 365 Day Collage Poetry Challenge has stalled. It's been a few weeks since I've composed a poem. But I will get organised and I will get creative and I WILL get back to it. Just not today.

About six weeks ago, I realised I needed new jeans. My old faves are coming apart at the seams. So I went to the shops and tried many on. And got very depressed. And didn't buy a thing. At that point, I realised I was in the grip of that evil black liquid again and the sugar was not doing me or my thighs any favours. So April 24th I stopped drinking Coca-Cola again. And I havent' had one since. It's been water, water, water - with the occasional ginger beer thrown in for flavour.

On Friday, I realised I've replaced the coke addiction with a new addiction. I'm addicted to sushi. Not the raw fish type of sushi. But the chicken teriyaki, the sweet chilli prawn with Japanese mayo. Yum! I've been eating almost every work day, and the loyalty card stamps fill up very quickly. The great thing about this new addiction is that I have to walk to satisfy my craving. So I'm getting healthy food and exercise. And it's paying off. On Thursday night, after another bout of overtime, I went jeans shopping again, taking advantage of a buy one pair and the second pair is 50% off sale. I'm happy to report I took three pairs of jeans into the fitting room, and didn't need to try any more. A pain free shopping experience. At last. The jeans went on lay-by and I'll pick them up on payday.

I've become a member of Romance Writers of Australia. After winning second prize in the Mid North Coast Writers Association short story competition with my Cinderella story Beyond Happy Ever After, I decided to invest my winnings into my writing 'career'. I will be attending their conference in August in Darling Harbour. Two weeks after the Byron Bay Writers Festival. August is going to be one hell of a month for writing mojo!!

Blogoff Post: Regrets

Regrets...I've had a few....

but then again...

C'mon. Face it. Life is too short for regrets!

I'm not going to get all maudlin on you.

Sure, there's things that I could've done differently, experiences that I might choose to leave in the past, but I can't change anything now. So there's no point angsting about it. Just get over it, move on, move forward into the future.

I don't regret spending money on a trip to Egypt rather than putting a deposit on a block of land.

If I die not owning a piece of this earth, but with the sweet memories of standing in four thousand year old tombs and pyramids, and sailing down the Nile on a felucca, I die happy.

Too many people live in the past...regretting the dreams that they didn't live, the words they didn't speak, the people they didn't love. But they are so stuck in the past, they are not even present in the moment....and life is once again passing them by.

We all have a 'sliding doors' moment. A time where we wonder WHAT IF...I'd made the alternative decision. But we'll never really know the what if.... We can wonder, we can dream, but we still chose the path that we're now on, and turning back is not an option. And every decision you have ever made has led you to THIS place RIGHT NOW.

It's something I love about writing. I can explore the 'what's ifs'. I can 'choose-their-own-adventure' and if I don't like the outcome, I can rewrite it. Funny thing is, I rarely change the ending once it's in place. It's as if my sub-conscious knows the natural outcome of the story and once it is on paper, it only needs enhancing. Speaking of which, I need to go and do some enhancing of my current work in progress.

This was another entry in the Blogoff for Breast Cancer fundraiser. There's only a few of us left still blogging, and Courtney of Five Second Dance Party is the instigator of the fundraiser. Courtney wants to hold another blogoff in July, so if you're interested step on over to her blog, and let her know.

Blogoff Post # 9 - KISS

This is Blogoff Post #9. Each week, raising funds for Breast Cancer research, we blog on a one-word topic. We then vote on each other's posts and the person with the least votes is eliminated from the blogoff.

KISS

I was 16. He was 21.

I was the props girl on the pantomime. He had one of the leading roles.

He would give me a lift home after rehearsals, which was dangerous, because I was developing a huge crush. And who could blame me? He was absolutely gorgeous. Picture Harrison Ford of the Han Solo era, but with blonder hair.

Our theatre group was staging three performances in one day at the local RSL club, the weekend before Christmas. I had no sleep the night before. I had baby-sat for my next door neighbour and she'd arrived home at 7.30 in the morning. Being a dutiful and responsible babysitter, I had stayed up all night. I went home, had a shower, got dressed and caught a train out to the venue.

It must have been my lack of sleep that made me so brazen. Between matinees, I gave the object of my desire a Christmas card. I signed it 'XXX. These kisses can be collected at any time in person.'

After the last performance, he collected.

Blame my lack of sleep. I seized the moment. I didn't let this gorgeous man get away with a peck on the lips. No way. I went for a full-on pash. Never let an opportunity pass you by!

He pulled back in surprise and said, 'Hang on! I'm sweet and innocent you know!' And I smiled. Yeah, right! Then he said, 'That was nice, let's do that again.'

Yummy. It wasn't my first kiss, but it was one of the most memorable. Probably because it fuelled my fantasies even further. He was so handsome, and a nice guy. But in the end, he was also the perfect gentleman. I would've been willing to go anywhere, do anything with him but he never once took advantage of me. So now he's just a very fond memory.

In anticipation....

Well, it seems I've survived another round of the blog-off. This week's topic is KISS, so I will leave you to wonder if I will KISS & TELL - come back on Wednesday to find out.

In other news, after a fabulous writing workshop last weekend, I am now rewriting the first couple of chapters of Diary of the Future, and polishing it for a contest. I have decided that the previous opening of a diary entry that revealed that Nicky had been given the diary by her mother was too passive. In the new opening, Nicky finds the diary herself when she's undertaking 'slave labour' in her mother's second hand bookshop. But the boyfriend Craig needs a new name. Craig just doesn't invoke images of a 16 year old hottie. Suggestions, anyone?

I'm starting to count down the days (well the months at least) to the Byron Bay Writers Festival. There are 14 of us going this year. At least we have two 2-storey cabins between us. But still we are definitely going to need rosters for the bathrooms. And I can't imagine that we'll be able to rock up to many restaurants and find a table for 14 without booking first. Even though the program hasn't been launched, I'm already excited by the name's of the confirmed authors. And one in particular. You see, 9 years ago this author taught a novel writing subject that I did as part of a writing diploma. I never did finish the course, but she set me on the writing path. It will be great to say hello again after all this time.

Now I'm going to bed to dream about the kisses I may be writing about on Wednesday...