Magenta Monster

Plasticine [Published on Turquoise Monster and The Oxford International Women’s Festival Anthology]

In the beginning I was a new pack of plasticine
All rainbow colours in neat rows
But People took pieces of me
And began molding me as they thought I should be
My Parents
Teachers, doctors
Neighbours, the Church, friends,
Bullies and boyfriends
Each made an effigy
That was not me
Just a distorted fraction of self
And then each grew bored
Became annoyed at my ill fit
They grew angry
Mashing those fractions
That did not fit with their world view
Leaving me formless
Grey

Disappointed, they all finally went away
Leaving me a mess
No identity, no existence
Just a sense I had let them all down
But then you came along
And saw the faint rainbow swirls
Like oil on the surface
And you asked how I wanted to be molded
And said it did not matter that I couldn’t choose
I’m still malleable
But it’s put to a different use
You call it adaptable
And build me scaffolds
For the larger forms I wish to take

If you are stuck in a rut where writing is concerned going to a writing workshop or retreat (where you have nothing to do other than write) or even starting a creative writing course – can jolt you back into the flow of writing again. Rarely it can have the opposite affect especially if you are still at a delicate beginning stage or are an experimental writer. If you are into scifi and fantasy you may struggle to find people who take your genres seriously as well.

None the less they have helped me lots – but they are not essential. You can either find on line tutorials or writing exercises though the danger there is that can turn into a procrastination of it’s own!

A really good thing is to find other writers (this normally happens through local writing groups and /or nanowrimo) and once you are friends with them invite them to meet up in coffee shops and pubs for write-ins. You might even want to take it in turns to set challenges for each other.

I now have a close circle of friends who I sometimes invite around my house for Creativi-Teas where we have tea and cake and sandwiches and we draw, knit, write and sneak off to the workshop to do the odd bit of metal work.

National Novel Writing Month is almost upon me and as I have spent this month warming up with GothNoWriMo I feel elated going into it 🙂

The Cavern has gone through the scope of Novelette and out beyond Novella – it is novel material and will continue going out upon this blog as a serial. There is a lot still to do with it – gaps and what not that need fixing 🙂

So what to do for NaNo?

Well traditionally I have worked on my Punk universe the origins of which you can see over on Purple Monster. I have often written short stories and flash fictions within the same universe as world building hence the category on here!

Last year I worked on a Trilogy called the Godex which started as a GothNoWriMo project – it is about the Punks brother but that is as they say another story 😉

I have another story set based in the world called Promethius which I have been sorting out thorny timeline issues with and character building. I am thinking that this may well be the story I go with for NaNo – either that or I will be doing shorts or flash fictions but knowing me I think it will pretty much be the novels – the fact that I should edit the stories I’ve ready written is something I am ignoring (for now).

Pam looked out of the window as she did every morning, but instead of the lovely view of the hills with the summer grass sawing upon it she saw a horror of mind bending proportions. There were daffodils and green grass with the beginnings of little white clover flowers – this upset her greatly as they were spring time apparitions but that was not the least of it for behind them upon the hill itself was a blanket of white gleaming snow. Two seasons in one window view and neither of them the correct one for the month.

Pam closed her eyes turned her back on the window and carefully ignored the ludicrous sight beyond, clearly she had eaten a funny whelk or maybe it had been the cheese – no doubt she was in fact still fast asleep in her bed. So she did what she always did in a crisis whilst joking embarrassed about just how British she was for doing so, she put the kettle on.

She was humming some distracting tune when the phone began to buzz its way across the table, she hesitated before picking it up.

‘Hello?’ she said timidly.

‘Pamela?’ came her sisters voice.

‘What is it Mona I am having a bad day here and it’s not even breakfast time,’ she looked over at the sound of the cat flap and saw her black cat covered in a sugar coating of powdery snow, she shuddered obviously the hallucination was getting worse.

‘Don’t be so stupid! Have you looked out your window?’

Pam paused and turned to examine the scene from her window again pursed her lips and prepared for a fight, ‘now Mona don’t start that nonsense again, we are not witches, it took me three years of counselling to see that it was the dysfunctional family we grew up in and not a reality and you should do the same.’

A heavy sigh greated her from the other end of the phone, ‘ok Pam we can play it your way but me and Susie will be around within the hour just make sure you have the bits for the reverse bleed charm.’

‘Why would we need to do that?’ she asked forgetting that witch craft didn’t exist for a moment.

‘We have a seasonal prolapse or are you that much in denial that you can’t see the spring flowers and snow covered hills?’

‘I am not in denial!’ she hissed and hung up the phone, she stared at the hand set for a moment and felt the queasy feeling in her stomach, perhaps she could just not tell the councillor about this that way the woman wouldn’t give her the disappointed look. That decided she got the cauldron out from under the stairs and began gathering herbs and beads and what nots from various nooks.

It was very hard to not be a witch when the world kept needing you like this, Pam made herself another cuppa and awaited her sisters. The cat told her not worry and the bats from the attic bought her some chocolate to calm her down.

In October 2009 I made a little book of poems from ideas Jeany gave me and made a little hand drawn booklet – after much pleading of people I produced an electronic copy last year with some added poems. Now there is a physical booklet/book and to celebrate there is going to be a real life PARTY! (sadly this invite is only extended to people I actually know).

A Halloween themed party 🙂 There will be cake and sandwitches and the like, there will be the books which I know no-one will actually bother too buy!

There will be stickers and postcards and bookmarks in goody bags – so if you don’t tell me you are coming there may not be a bag for you!

And a free book to who ever brings the best carved pumpkin.

It starts at 5 with party games such as apple bobbing and doughnuts on a string. Buffet unveiled at 6 and a rendition of the book at 7. There will then be a small fireworks display (don’t expect bangs and screeching! Due to the animals).

There may even be some spoogy story telling and a yeti to hunt.

After that it is adult only fright night! With horror films and the like – feel free to bring your own choices. (Any children staying the night can be bedded down in the girls room for a spoogy sleep over).

People are welcome to stay for the whole weekend, there will be Autumn Creativi Tea on the Sunday. Friends and kids and what not are as always welcome 🙂

It is October and that means two things for me this year 🙂 One is that I will be launching The Little Book of Spoogy Poetry later this month (you will hear much more on this 🙂 ) and the other is that it is writing time!

GothNoWriMo is a writing challenge I have been doing for the past few years over on Black Monster – it is a sort of spin off of NaNoWriMo which is National Novel Writing Month (which I do as well).

Obviously it has the Goth part in it’s title which is for Gothic – now I tend to go loosely for horror, disturbing, young adult suspense or kids halloween/ghost story type stuff or gothic poetry rather than strictly gothic writing as such.

This year I think I should use it as a sort of finishing projects off – I have The Cavern story which has been going out slowly on here as a serial – for something that started as a sort story (from a nightmare I had) it has grown drastically and I think it will either be a novella or a full blown novel. So basically my first port of call is finishing that off.

Then there is the Hetty Peglar stories I have written for my little ones – there are quiet a few of them. They are stories about a witch based on a local earthworks and I really want to type them up and maybe start illustrating them. Normally I run a kidlit challenge along next to my general writing challenges but I am back at college part time and so shall start with the idea of basically doing an hour a day and then see what I can fit in 🙂

Wish me luck!

Pink Flapping Monster (First published on Turquoise Monster)

Upon a Welsh Mountain Side
Above a disused slate quarry
Below a turgid sky
In a fine hazy drizzle

A monstrous pink flapping monster
Perched on the edge
About to take flight

Fear sticks in the throat
Fear jellifies the knees
Fear pancake flips the stomach
Fear trembles the lips

But dad is there
Smiling
Saying ‘don’t be afraid
Pink pterodactyls are extinct’
And pink bats don’t exist

We draw close
We draw near

The pink flapping monster
Charges us
A shreak of fear
Big strong arms
A bear face grinning
Brow prickling beard
And blue crinkled eyes
A greeting hug

‘I forgot me coat
Had to wrap meself in an old sheet
And with a smile
We went to see today’s
Paleontological find

Oggy, Babbit and Bubba were Mary’s special friends, they went everywhere with her. In the morning Mary would wake up hugging Oggy, Babbit or bubba and would then tell them about her dreams.

When daddy came into the room she would stretch up her arms and called ‘Daddy! Out! Out!’ and once in his arms having a nice morning cuddle she would call, ‘Babbit! Oggy! Bubba!’ and Daddy would scoop them out of the cot and Mary would cuddle them all the way down the stairs.

As Daddy cleaned Mary’s bottom making it shiny and new, Mummy would make biks! for breakfast which were Mary’s favourite but Mary was always cross about this and would shout for ‘Oggy, Babbit and Bubba’ until Daddy picked her up and popped her into the high chair.

There she would see her biks and demand ilk and Mummy would pour on Mary’s special milk and crush the biks up. Mary wanted Oggy, Babbit and Bubba but was too hungry to argue and would concentrate on eating up all her biks so she could ask for more.

After biks, Mary would help Jean get ready for school by showing her big sister how to brush teeth – this mainly involved eating the tooth paste off of the brush and hiding it behind the loo when no one was looking and screaming when the flannel and soap came anywhere near her.

Then it was getting dressed time, Jeany would put on her soaks and Mary would pull on hers, then Jeany would pull on her trousers and Mary would do the same, then the shirt and cardigan. Mary would bring Jeany her shoes crying ‘shuoosh shush’ and put her sparkly pink ones on her own feet even though Mummy said they were only for parties.

Then Mary would hug Babbit whilst queuing to have her hair brushed, the brushing of Mary’s hair was really important, not because she had much hair as she didn’t but because her big sister had her hair brushed.

Then Jeany and Daddy would put their coats on and Mummy would tell Mary ‘NO!’ to putting hers on and Mary would cry but then Mummy would cuddle her and they would wave bye bye to Daddy and Jeany.

‘Daddy?’

‘Daddy’s gone to work,’

‘Jeany?’

‘Jeany’s gone to school’

‘Mary?’

‘Mary play with Doggy why mummy does some work then we go to the park?’

Mary would nod and set up Oggy and Babbit and sometimes Bubba for their special breakfast of play dough. She wasn’t allowed play dough in the living room as there was carpet, nor in the library where mummy was working but she was allowed it in the kitchen but there was no Mummy in the kitchen. After about half an hour Mummy would shout at Mary for treading play dough into the carpet and Mary would cry and Mummy would hug her and they would have no nappy time when Mary would have to remember to use bear chair the potty and Bubba would help by sitting on her own little potty.

Mummy would then redress Mary with clean cloths that were in the right way and not back to front. And Mary would get the pushchair and climb into it. Babbit would be held tight as they went for a walk to the park. At the park Babbit tended to stay in the push chair though did get a bit muddy when Mary decided he had to go down the slide with her.

Mary had a great time on the slide and the swings and the snail bouncer and the green bonging thing. Then it was time to go home and Babbit was put in the washing machine whilst Mary and Oggy sat in the garden with Mummy for a picnic. Mary waved bye-bye to Babbit and explained, ‘clean!’ to him as mummy shut the washing machine door.

Mary cried and cried as mummy carried her up the stairs, it was nap time but there was such a lot of exciting things to do and see and learn. But then her eye lids were so heavy and mummy gave her milky and tucked her in under ducky blanky and she had Oggy and Bubba and Mummy explained Babbit would be drying when she woke up and then Mummy sang a lullaby and Mary sighed gently into sleep (after a lot of wailing and shouts of NO! NO! NO!).

When Jeany came home from school she zoomed straight up the stairs to wake Mary up, Mary cried, ‘Cuggle!’ and Jeany cuddled her out of the cott and they played in the bedroom dressing up as solders and pirates and princesses and space men and lizards and cats. Then Mummy called them and they played out side in the paddling pool, Mummy changed Mary into her mermaid swimming costume and Babbit was pegged to the washing line by his ears, Mary reached up her little hands to try and reach him but was far too small.

‘No lovely he’s not dry yet,’ Mummy said and then Jeany helped the sad Mary into the pool where they played with dollies and boats and splashed each other until they giggled and giggled and it was time for an ice lolly. Mary got very sticky and juicy from the lolly but Mummy didn’t mind as she went back to play in the pool.

After a while she came and sang inkle inkle ittle star to Mummy and Mummy and Jean and Oggy sang lots of songs together, incy wincy spider, baa baa black sheep, Mary had a little Babbit and the Little Chicken Song.

When Daddy came home he removed Babbit from the line and gave it too Mary who put Oggy, Babbit and Bubba in the bucket seat of her chu chu train and scooted around the garden. Daddy made them Mary’s favourite dinner of pasta and peas for dinner with a special treat of Jelly for desert.

Then it was bath time and tooth brushing and snuggling on the settee for film time. Mary was sat on Daddy’s lap with Babbit and Oggy and stared wide eyed at the adventures on the screen. And then it was sleepy tired time and Daddy carried Mary up the stairs and Mummy made up a story about Babbit and Oggy and Mary and Bubba.

Then Mary tucked Bubba in and sung her a lullaby and Jeany tucked Mary in and Daddy tucked Jeany in and read them a Mary book and then a chapter of a Jean book and then said nun night and left.

Jeany read to Mary from her book and climbed out of bed to make sure Mary had Babbit and Oggy and re-tucked her in and then Mary was snuggled down and cuddling her friends. Eventually after a few ‘oh Mary’s’ and ‘Dean! Dean!’ Mary and Jean and Babbit and Oggy and Bubba and Bed Bear and Panda (who was Jean’s) were all snoring softly and Daddy quietly turned the light off and removed any books in danger of being drooled on. And with that the moon light and stairs twinkling in from the window and Mary dreamed of Babbit and Oggy and Bubba.

Now fan fiction is a thorny issue – it can upset authors as it does impinge on there rights some what. However many authors allow it as long as you are not selling the books or making money from it and many series would not have been able to continue if a fan fiction writer had not stepped up and taken on writing it officially. The writing of fanfic is also extremely good at honing your writing skills and I believe there are extensive communities for Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings and things were you can even write in groups.

I myself have never really written any fanfic as I have too many worlds in my own brain to want to write in someone else’s – the exceptions to these are computer games – I would love to write Half Life (including Portal) and Minecraft novels. And… * coughs * I may actually have some Minecraft story stuff underway – me and my family are obsessed with the game (no seriously I have a blog about it)!

So if there is a fanchise that you are fond of it might be away of getting the writing juices flowing again and remember it could just be for you which gives you an great sense of freedom when you are first starting out with writing.

Little side note – Fifty Shades of Grey started out as Twilight Fanfic.

Light through the Window (first published on Blue Monster)

The room was light in a sort of half gloom that struck Eric as odd; the furniture seemed to melt in upon itself. The light was a pathetic dim grey that seemed to diffuse reluctantly into the room rather than spill or pour as he felt it should. It was as if it itself was some entity, a naughty dog trying to look small to appease a master.

There was a dank chill to the air that seemed to draw the warmth from his limbs leaving aching bones. Where had the summer gone? Had it ever arrived? It was September and the sky was still the milky grey it had been since the late spring. Crops had failed and there was a food shortage but still everyone pretended everything was OK; after all, who needed to stay on such a miserable little island when they could easily get a ferry to France and enjoy the continent?

But not everybody could afford that, in fact most people couldn’t and depression was gripping the nation rendering the work forces insolent and demoralised. Hunger for the first time since the Second World War now burned inside the general population and having your own allotment was not much consolation as the intrepid watched their crops fail with blight or fail to ripen due to the lack of sun.

Eric had warned of this; had told of the albedo effect, had pointed out that the UK should be colder than it was, that it relied on the deep ocean currents to be a pleasant place to live, and that for the retched little island with big ideas, global warming would in the first instance probably mean cooling. But no one had listened and no one, not even the other scientists, had seemed to comprehend that there were such things as positive and negative feedback loops, and that these loops themselves where part of systems that interacted and fed each other. It worked like cell metabolisation, or nucleosynthes inside the hot bellies of stars, but no one would listen.

And so the world had heated due to the emissions from cars and factories and the like, burning of forests and woodlands had not helped, nor the denuding of land for beef cattle who themselves, due to bodily functions, produced another greenhouse gas, as it was termed.

There where many many effects and the change in heating on a global scale lead to upsets. The gulf stream that brought warm air to the Uk would soon seize as the ocean currents stopped and killed the bottom dwelling life by stagnation; a reversal of currents was just as devastating with thick rich nutrient brought up from the bottom leading to algal bloom and suffocation in the very oceans.

The warmth caused by the gases had a knock on effect – the clouds that boiled overhead. Increase the temperature and more water from the oceans, seas, rivers, lakes, ponds and reservoirs would steal up into the air to become clouds. These clouds would act as a blanket keeping the heat in and acting as a mirror to reflect the heat back to the Earth’s surface again and again.

But the clouds also acted as a mirror on the outside, too, and reflected the Sun’s light out into space rendering the Earth cool, cooler and cold. A self-regulating system, most of the time. Sometimes it could get out of control and send the earth into frozen aeons.

Which effect would win, Eric did not know; he also knew that for humans it did not really matter, as either was pretty devastating. But no one had listened. He oiled his gun and checked his tinned food supplies again, and waited for the chaos to begin.