Just finished one of the most sexually graphic unhygienic, yet addictive books I've ever read. It's called 'Wetlands', by Charlotte Roche. A girl recovering from a operation with too much time to think about her sexual antics and opinions on hygiene. Although I felt dirty reading it most of the time, her character was well developed and beautifully written. It's well worth the read if you have a strong stomach.
The end is totally unexpected. A firm thumbs up from me.
Whilst helping out at NDS I haven't had much time to develop my story., jobs exhaust you so much that when you get home from working solidly for nine hours you just want to read or watch TV. This is disappointing but I am writing dialogue in my spare time, which is easy and fun and obviously helpful for furthering the idea in my mind.
My dialogue is between Hildi again as her character is the one I am focusing on at the moment. She's a fascinating character in my mind and I'm only finding more stories from her, maybe a side short story?
I have to be careful though because if I start writing side projects then I won't ever finish 'Fixed'.
Tricky, tricky.
Elaine (5) complaining to Hildi because she doesn’t want to go to boarding school in a week. Hildi is teaching Elaine how to her tie shoelaces.
Elaine – I don’t want to go.
Hildi – You have to.
Elaine – But I want to stay here.
Hildi – No buts, you have to.
Elaine – But why?
Hildi – You want to be clever don’t you?
Elaine – No.
Hildi – You do.
Elaine – No, I want to be stupid.
Hildi – You already are stupid.
Hildi tickles Elaine, Elaine giggles.
Elaine – But I’ll be away from you.
Hildi – And your parents.
Elaine – I don’t love them.
Hildi – Don’t say that Elaine Elliott, that’s bad and you don’t mean it.
Elaine – Sorry.
Hildi – Properly kinder.
Pause
Elaine – I’m sorry.
Hildi – Good. Now concentrate. Put the loop through where?
Elaine – Here.
Hildi – Good, and then?
Elaine – Then the rabbit goes into the tree and out again.
Hildi – Now double knot or it’ll just come out when you’re rolling around.
Elaine – I don’t roll.
Hildi – Yes you do like a little pudding.
Elaine giggles again, Hildi smiles.
Elaine – What happens if I don’t make any friends?
Hildi – You will.
Elaine – How do you know?
Hildi - You are the chattiest girl I’ve ever met.
Elaine – Chat, chat, chat.
Hildi – See?
About Me
- Maisy-Mae
- I've graduated from Liverpool John Moores studying Imaginative writing. Been trying to figure out what's next. I was told by higher powers to make my own hole and not try to fit into anyone else's. That's what I plan to do.
Friday 27 August 2010
Monday 23 August 2010
Hildimar Wiese
The fecking spiders are out to get me today.
Not only have I heard branches twang into life behind me, but I also picked up a bucket with a wolf spider and ne'er crapped me self.
I don't think I'll be having very good dreams tonight...
Yesterday was spent entirely by myself (and the flies, but they don't count because I kept killing them) and developing Hildimar Wiese. The first nanny in 'Fixed'
CHARACTER PROFILE.
Born 2nd December 1945 - Germany.
Parents were both German, they were to afraid too leave the country through-out the war, but in their own way rebelled silently towards Hitler's rules. Both keeping books that should have been burnt. Her mother pretends she is infertile as she doesn't want to raise children in the Nazi rule.
Hildi grew up in Italy - moved to England to become an Au pair, ended up at Elliott's manor as she was a good wet nurse.
Looked after Elaine (first child born in the Elliott family) for year and a half before Janette (second nanny) arrived to look after second child, Georgia.
Janette is nosey and loud, Hildi doesn't like her, she turns introverted and grumpy.
Hildi loves Elaine though, just like she would her own child. She watches her grow, plays with her, cares for her wounds and teaches her how to read, watches her walk for the first time and listens to her first word.
In every respect Hildi is Elaine's mother.
At five Elaine goes to boarding school. Hildi leaves the Manor, broken hearted. She moves to Switzerland, becomes a teaching assistant and falls in love with a teacher who later dies in a train crash.
She has a baby with the teacher and is left as a single mother.
There is more story between Elaine and Hildi, but that's all I want to say. Suffice it to say it is a happy thread in 'Fixed'.
They can't all be depressing.
I feel a bit silly saying this, but all work and idea's written on this blog are mine, if anyone else steals them, I'll cut their balls off with a china cup. Copyrighted to Daisy-Mae Perkins.
Not only have I heard branches twang into life behind me, but I also picked up a bucket with a wolf spider and ne'er crapped me self.
I don't think I'll be having very good dreams tonight...
Yesterday was spent entirely by myself (and the flies, but they don't count because I kept killing them) and developing Hildimar Wiese. The first nanny in 'Fixed'
CHARACTER PROFILE.
Born 2nd December 1945 - Germany.
Parents were both German, they were to afraid too leave the country through-out the war, but in their own way rebelled silently towards Hitler's rules. Both keeping books that should have been burnt. Her mother pretends she is infertile as she doesn't want to raise children in the Nazi rule.
Hildi grew up in Italy - moved to England to become an Au pair, ended up at Elliott's manor as she was a good wet nurse.
Looked after Elaine (first child born in the Elliott family) for year and a half before Janette (second nanny) arrived to look after second child, Georgia.
Janette is nosey and loud, Hildi doesn't like her, she turns introverted and grumpy.
Hildi loves Elaine though, just like she would her own child. She watches her grow, plays with her, cares for her wounds and teaches her how to read, watches her walk for the first time and listens to her first word.
In every respect Hildi is Elaine's mother.
At five Elaine goes to boarding school. Hildi leaves the Manor, broken hearted. She moves to Switzerland, becomes a teaching assistant and falls in love with a teacher who later dies in a train crash.
She has a baby with the teacher and is left as a single mother.
There is more story between Elaine and Hildi, but that's all I want to say. Suffice it to say it is a happy thread in 'Fixed'.
They can't all be depressing.
I feel a bit silly saying this, but all work and idea's written on this blog are mine, if anyone else steals them, I'll cut their balls off with a china cup. Copyrighted to Daisy-Mae Perkins.
Bigging up some other blogs.
I’m beginning to see how important blogs are. How fun they are. There are thousands - possibley even millions out there - when I'm going from blog to blog trying to find work I like, I feel a little like looking through the clothes racks of TK Max. It's alright, but every so often there is one delicious item.
Blogs seem to be a good way of cleansing ones emotions, getting worries or annoyances of your chest, of publising yourself and finding imspiration in others.
As I've not been able to blog (mum's laptop was gone for the weekend) I've instead researched about others blogs and here are some I really like, that people should check out.
Fep's Artists. There's only three posts but the range of artists is cracking. Lots of colour and a good chance to see some fresh work coming from all pockets of the world.
Booker Lover. Good list of reviews on prize winning recent novels.
Neil . I know, I know, everyone who loves reading and blogs is probably already following Neil Gaiman, but if you not then click here and see what you think.
Blogs seem to be a good way of cleansing ones emotions, getting worries or annoyances of your chest, of publising yourself and finding imspiration in others.
As I've not been able to blog (mum's laptop was gone for the weekend) I've instead researched about others blogs and here are some I really like, that people should check out.
Fep's Artists. There's only three posts but the range of artists is cracking. Lots of colour and a good chance to see some fresh work coming from all pockets of the world.
Booker Lover. Good list of reviews on prize winning recent novels.
Neil . I know, I know, everyone who loves reading and blogs is probably already following Neil Gaiman, but if you not then click here and see what you think.
Friday 20 August 2010
The real date.
I was thinking about writing a poem for them. An ode to the mouse-deer.
Sadly just as I've found a way to blog, I will get it snatched away from me. Mum and dad are leaving today for a vintage wedding, they will be taking all computers with them, I won't be able to blog, but I will write it on word and when they get back on sunday/monday? I'll upload the blogs.
17th August 2010
I’ve written this twice now. (I’m missing Greenwing in the other room to re write this! Baynton I hope you understand.). Stupid blogger didn’t publish it when I told it to. So to say what I said before in short.
If you are a fan of a mixture of music, then listen to ‘FJH’ on Soundcloud. He is a music cocktail master in dubstep/hiphop form. I’ve been listening to him all day and I’m happily hooked.
I’ve also got a solid form of my story ‘Fixed’.
Four nannies bring up four siblings in a manor house. It starts with the fathers death, Tabitha and Arthur my protagonist twins find themselves unaffected by this and seek out their nannies who parented them more than their own parents.
It has a tragic end and that’s all I’m saying now. If I want my story to be a good read I can’t just line everything out on the table.
I’ve written a short piece of dialogue between Hildi (the eldest daughters nanny, who was born the year the second world war finished to German parents) and Janette (the second eldest daughters nanny, who is nosey and irritable).
Their conversation takes place outside while they are hanging clothes out to dry, Janette sees a cat on the roof of the Manor.
Jan – Is that a cat?
Hildi – Where?
Jan – On the roof.
Hildi – Where?
Jan – The roof.
Hildi – Yes.
Jan – The Elliott’s don’t own a cat.
Hildi - It’s stray.
Jan – The dogs must have chased it up there.
Hildi nods
Jan – I hate cats, I’d chase it up there too.
Hildi nods
Jan – You a dog person?
Hildi – I’m not a dog.
Jan – No I mean dog person, you prefer dogs.
Hildi – I understand, I’m not a dog.
Jan – Suit yourself.
If you are a fan of a mixture of music, then listen to ‘FJH’ on Soundcloud. He is a music cocktail master in dubstep/hiphop form. I’ve been listening to him all day and I’m happily hooked.
I’ve also got a solid form of my story ‘Fixed’.
Four nannies bring up four siblings in a manor house. It starts with the fathers death, Tabitha and Arthur my protagonist twins find themselves unaffected by this and seek out their nannies who parented them more than their own parents.
It has a tragic end and that’s all I’m saying now. If I want my story to be a good read I can’t just line everything out on the table.
I’ve written a short piece of dialogue between Hildi (the eldest daughters nanny, who was born the year the second world war finished to German parents) and Janette (the second eldest daughters nanny, who is nosey and irritable).
Their conversation takes place outside while they are hanging clothes out to dry, Janette sees a cat on the roof of the Manor.
Jan – Is that a cat?
Hildi – Where?
Jan – On the roof.
Hildi – Where?
Jan – The roof.
Hildi – Yes.
Jan – The Elliott’s don’t own a cat.
Hildi - It’s stray.
Jan – The dogs must have chased it up there.
Hildi nods
Jan – I hate cats, I’d chase it up there too.
Hildi nods
Jan – You a dog person?
Hildi – I’m not a dog.
Jan – No I mean dog person, you prefer dogs.
Hildi – I understand, I’m not a dog.
Jan – Suit yourself.
16th August 2010
Home Again.
I’m sitting in the living room drinking Roko and smoking Drum Gold. The house is sparse of furniture and the dogs are as ever furring the place up. There are no more fish in the tank and I have a lilo to sleep on for the next month. Oblivion’s theme tune is playing in the background and I am witness to the new form of parents. The parents who are all about wool and who love and nurture not children but an ever growing international business which will one day take over the world… at least there is still a sofa in the living room.
I have found the power of a hand held fly swat. There is an electric fly racket on the window sill and a big fly zapping machine in the kitchen. This is a house of fly death. But still there are many around. Bastards.
Development on ‘Fixed’ is still slow, but I’ve only just got back so give me time. In a week I will have set out the whole story. And then the first chapter the next week. The next post will be a conversation – like earlier conversation between Tab and Art – this one will be between the nannies in Elliott Manor. Strictly only another dialogue/character development piece. But hopefully good to read.
I’m sitting in the living room drinking Roko and smoking Drum Gold. The house is sparse of furniture and the dogs are as ever furring the place up. There are no more fish in the tank and I have a lilo to sleep on for the next month. Oblivion’s theme tune is playing in the background and I am witness to the new form of parents. The parents who are all about wool and who love and nurture not children but an ever growing international business which will one day take over the world… at least there is still a sofa in the living room.
I have found the power of a hand held fly swat. There is an electric fly racket on the window sill and a big fly zapping machine in the kitchen. This is a house of fly death. But still there are many around. Bastards.
Development on ‘Fixed’ is still slow, but I’ve only just got back so give me time. In a week I will have set out the whole story. And then the first chapter the next week. The next post will be a conversation – like earlier conversation between Tab and Art – this one will be between the nannies in Elliott Manor. Strictly only another dialogue/character development piece. But hopefully good to read.
Thursday 19 August 2010
Lost with technology.
Not only have I not been able to find an Internet recently but the computers (apart from my mum's which is this one) do not let me publish my posts on blogger.
I have a long line of blogs, saved on word, just waiting desperately to get onto blogger. But mum is a busy lady and I have to wait till she is not on her computer, to upload all of the posts of late.
As I am at NDS winding silk right now I won't be able to do it, but hopefully later on today I'll be able to steal her computer again for ten seconds to get the blogs up.
There is some dialogue and other such excitements to share, but I can't remember any of them. So maybe they're not that exciting... who knows this could be a cliff hanger.
Till later folks.
I have a long line of blogs, saved on word, just waiting desperately to get onto blogger. But mum is a busy lady and I have to wait till she is not on her computer, to upload all of the posts of late.
As I am at NDS winding silk right now I won't be able to do it, but hopefully later on today I'll be able to steal her computer again for ten seconds to get the blogs up.
There is some dialogue and other such excitements to share, but I can't remember any of them. So maybe they're not that exciting... who knows this could be a cliff hanger.
Till later folks.
Tuesday 10 August 2010
Attraction, revulsion.
Whilst I listen to Jess Green plodding down the stairs singing 'she says she needs me,' the smell of emulsion and gloss fill my nostrils. I can taste the stuff on my finger tips. When I was asked to paint a hallway and a bedroom I didn't quite realise how big the hallway was and although the bedroom took half a day, the hallway took two days. You see it is three floors of hallway.
But now with it all done and dusted (or painted) I can sit down and write a blog and phone up my sister. Two things I have been looking forward to.
I can't stop thinking about Sherlock Holmes out of the three part series that's just finished. I can't seem to sculpt a word exquisite enough for him. I find it rather unnerving being in a happy relationship, with no qualms or complaints but still finding another man (specially a made up character) so unnaturally incredible.
I know this is a highly normal thing. People all the time find themselves attracted to other people when they are contented with someone else.
Blessfully for me I am attracted to fictional characters instead of real people.
I dipped into 'The Living Planet' by living legend David Attenborough, the first few chapters are about the evolution of man kind, I never knew David was such a fan of Charles Darwin and the bits I have scanned over talk about animals mating and courting rituals.
Very few animals stick with one partner, I considered human beings to be one of those few but that's such bullocks. Some romantic souls will stick with one partner if that's what they choose, it's never easy though, there are times when they don't want to be with each other but stay together because of love.
It's more of a mental strength than a physical and natural requirement. If you boil it down animals do what they do to further their species. To survive themselves. Surely having as many partners and making as many babies is what is required of them.
But I am a romantic and know the world is overly populated, humans are breeding too much, so I'll stay with the same man and leave off the breeding for now.
Humans are perplexing. I hate humans most of the time, seeing what they have done to the world and nature, seeing how many animals and plants they have made extinct. It's survival of the fittest, but humans aren't fit, they are just cunning.
I think Tabitha and Arthur will adopt this attitude about the world. Only Tabitha's will be more extreme. I haven't been able to develop anymore of 'Fixed' as I've been painting, but I can pick that up again too.
I read in the Guardian that Steven Hawkins advises humans to live in space away from this planet. Apparently human beings will destroy themselves in the next two centuries and space may be the only place to continue life. Agreed, but lets try not to fuck the planet to begin with.
But now with it all done and dusted (or painted) I can sit down and write a blog and phone up my sister. Two things I have been looking forward to.
I can't stop thinking about Sherlock Holmes out of the three part series that's just finished. I can't seem to sculpt a word exquisite enough for him. I find it rather unnerving being in a happy relationship, with no qualms or complaints but still finding another man (specially a made up character) so unnaturally incredible.
I know this is a highly normal thing. People all the time find themselves attracted to other people when they are contented with someone else.
Blessfully for me I am attracted to fictional characters instead of real people.
I dipped into 'The Living Planet' by living legend David Attenborough, the first few chapters are about the evolution of man kind, I never knew David was such a fan of Charles Darwin and the bits I have scanned over talk about animals mating and courting rituals.
Very few animals stick with one partner, I considered human beings to be one of those few but that's such bullocks. Some romantic souls will stick with one partner if that's what they choose, it's never easy though, there are times when they don't want to be with each other but stay together because of love.
It's more of a mental strength than a physical and natural requirement. If you boil it down animals do what they do to further their species. To survive themselves. Surely having as many partners and making as many babies is what is required of them.
But I am a romantic and know the world is overly populated, humans are breeding too much, so I'll stay with the same man and leave off the breeding for now.
Humans are perplexing. I hate humans most of the time, seeing what they have done to the world and nature, seeing how many animals and plants they have made extinct. It's survival of the fittest, but humans aren't fit, they are just cunning.
I think Tabitha and Arthur will adopt this attitude about the world. Only Tabitha's will be more extreme. I haven't been able to develop anymore of 'Fixed' as I've been painting, but I can pick that up again too.
I read in the Guardian that Steven Hawkins advises humans to live in space away from this planet. Apparently human beings will destroy themselves in the next two centuries and space may be the only place to continue life. Agreed, but lets try not to fuck the planet to begin with.
Friday 6 August 2010
Pretending to be a student.
Although my student days have been up for two months now I can still enter the student library, which is nice because I can still pretend I am a student. I know this delusion will pass when they stop letting me in but until then I'll carry one doing what I can to keep reality at bay.
I just read an amazing poem by Vicky Pinner called 'Visting Dad' it is very fluid and incredibly dark. If anyone wants to read it you'll find I follow Vicky, so just click on her site, then her headline poetry. It's at the bottom of the page, but don't be shy to read the other poems as they are great too.
This coming week I'll be painting a house. Something to do, feel a little less pointless, helping out a friend. This will be lovely but I won't know how many blogs I'll be able to put up.
Yesterday I drew up a time line for 'Fixed'. I know this may sound fantastically dull to a lot of people but I find it addictive. My numeracy skills are laughable and it stresses me out to the point of anger trying to work out sums, but I can't stop it once started.
I blame my sudoku obsession on this numeracy addition as well. Anyone else addicted to sudoku? In fact what is every one's addictions? Everyone has at least one, how ever hard they try not to they do. I know I am addicted to cigarettes, red wine, music and Celtic knot work. I know that some of my friends are addicted to sugar and cleaning, cups of tea and vinegary substances, my family are addicted to Pilate's, computers, colour and cooking.
Whatever people comment their addictions as I'll put them together in some automatic writing and see what I come up with. That sounds fun :)
I just read an amazing poem by Vicky Pinner called 'Visting Dad' it is very fluid and incredibly dark. If anyone wants to read it you'll find I follow Vicky, so just click on her site, then her headline poetry. It's at the bottom of the page, but don't be shy to read the other poems as they are great too.
This coming week I'll be painting a house. Something to do, feel a little less pointless, helping out a friend. This will be lovely but I won't know how many blogs I'll be able to put up.
Yesterday I drew up a time line for 'Fixed'. I know this may sound fantastically dull to a lot of people but I find it addictive. My numeracy skills are laughable and it stresses me out to the point of anger trying to work out sums, but I can't stop it once started.
I blame my sudoku obsession on this numeracy addition as well. Anyone else addicted to sudoku? In fact what is every one's addictions? Everyone has at least one, how ever hard they try not to they do. I know I am addicted to cigarettes, red wine, music and Celtic knot work. I know that some of my friends are addicted to sugar and cleaning, cups of tea and vinegary substances, my family are addicted to Pilate's, computers, colour and cooking.
Whatever people comment their addictions as I'll put them together in some automatic writing and see what I come up with. That sounds fun :)
Wednesday 4 August 2010
Sorting.
It appears that I will be going back home alone.
Maybe this is a sign for developing the idea for 'Fixed'?
Who knows. I don't necessarily believe in fate. I do believe in pork pies though and I had my first one in weeks yesterday, it was glorious... a sign?
I've been trying to tart up my blog, but I am a plebeian when it comes to computers and design. Who knows why I am going for administrative work when I've no clue about excel. I suppose there's always been a shine to my organisation and sorting though - (father's trait) -
Going to see Inception tonight. Very exciting indeed.
Maybe this is a sign for developing the idea for 'Fixed'?
Who knows. I don't necessarily believe in fate. I do believe in pork pies though and I had my first one in weeks yesterday, it was glorious... a sign?
I've been trying to tart up my blog, but I am a plebeian when it comes to computers and design. Who knows why I am going for administrative work when I've no clue about excel. I suppose there's always been a shine to my organisation and sorting though - (father's trait) -
Going to see Inception tonight. Very exciting indeed.
Tuesday 3 August 2010
A novel emerges.
Written ten pages of diabolic back story for my now possible novella? Who knows. I thought my first serious outside university piece of writing would be a collection of short stories but it seems that the idea for 'Fixed' is turning into a mammoth concept.
Since last night I've been thinking about novels. I tucked into 'Skullduggery Pleasant', a young teenagers book about a skeleton detective. The first three chapters were enthralling and I couldn't put the beast down, until this morning when I started to get to know the main little girl protagonist and she fucked me off.
At the time I thought I could do this, I could write a young teenager short novel (had to get the short in there, at least I don't feel like I'm betraying the short story fully). Kids want to read about how someone who had a dull and ordinary life tripped and fell down a rabbit hole of excitement. I know I did and at the time I wrote a story about my desires.
At fourteen (thirteen?) I wrote a story called 'Lludd's Universe', it was about a young girl coming home to her murdered family, then some how finding out she had an attachment with a group of female goddesses who embody the different elements of the world.
Rifen - Air
Bodely - Water
Ghelp - desert
Leag - Fire
(I can't remember the earth, but my sister did very good drawings of them.)
I know what everyone maybe thinking at this point - Percy Jackson's lightning extravaganza, or HP and the mixture of magical things - but this isn't anything like that... if I can remember it properly (all the original drafts are in an attic in Hollesley).
This thinking must have led me to expand 'Fixed'. I thinking there may be a massive link to the nannies. In Elliott Manor there were four babies born. Because the mother and father were schmucks they had a different nanny for each baby, thus giving each child a different upbringing. Each child has taken small traits from each nanny and the story is going from there really.
I've done a background on Tabitha and Arthur's nanny. Elaine who is the oldest girl has a good wet nurse but she is very quiet and moody. Georgia, who is now living in Switzerland having a lesbian affair behind her husbands back had a gossipy loud nanny, who stuck her noise to where it didn't belong. Tab's nanny is Greek and warm and very kind, Arthur's nanny was a man who was pulled between being a gentleman servant or being a stand in father.
This probably sounds all very confusing but I'm really enjoying it and when the story has found a beginning I'll let everyone know.
Since last night I've been thinking about novels. I tucked into 'Skullduggery Pleasant', a young teenagers book about a skeleton detective. The first three chapters were enthralling and I couldn't put the beast down, until this morning when I started to get to know the main little girl protagonist and she fucked me off.
At the time I thought I could do this, I could write a young teenager short novel (had to get the short in there, at least I don't feel like I'm betraying the short story fully). Kids want to read about how someone who had a dull and ordinary life tripped and fell down a rabbit hole of excitement. I know I did and at the time I wrote a story about my desires.
At fourteen (thirteen?) I wrote a story called 'Lludd's Universe', it was about a young girl coming home to her murdered family, then some how finding out she had an attachment with a group of female goddesses who embody the different elements of the world.
Rifen - Air
Bodely - Water
Ghelp - desert
Leag - Fire
(I can't remember the earth, but my sister did very good drawings of them.)
I know what everyone maybe thinking at this point - Percy Jackson's lightning extravaganza, or HP and the mixture of magical things - but this isn't anything like that... if I can remember it properly (all the original drafts are in an attic in Hollesley).
This thinking must have led me to expand 'Fixed'. I thinking there may be a massive link to the nannies. In Elliott Manor there were four babies born. Because the mother and father were schmucks they had a different nanny for each baby, thus giving each child a different upbringing. Each child has taken small traits from each nanny and the story is going from there really.
I've done a background on Tabitha and Arthur's nanny. Elaine who is the oldest girl has a good wet nurse but she is very quiet and moody. Georgia, who is now living in Switzerland having a lesbian affair behind her husbands back had a gossipy loud nanny, who stuck her noise to where it didn't belong. Tab's nanny is Greek and warm and very kind, Arthur's nanny was a man who was pulled between being a gentleman servant or being a stand in father.
This probably sounds all very confusing but I'm really enjoying it and when the story has found a beginning I'll let everyone know.
Monday 2 August 2010
Tabitha and Arthur's conversation.
This is the dialiouge I wrote. It is NOT a script, I am aware that I have broken many script rules here.
Setting: Tabitha and Arthur are looking out of a window together at the rain. They are stoned. It is mid evening and they are sat on camping fold out chairs in Arthur's shack house.
Tab: Rain's great.
Arth: Yeah.
Tab: The flowers look so bright.
Arth: It's the rain.
Tab: And the water.
(Tab passes Arth the joint)
Tab: How do flowers decide what colour they'll be?
Arth: The seeds.
Tab: No but how does a flower know what colour it should be from the seed?
Arth: What does that mean?
(Pause)
Tab: I don't know.
Arth: No, you were onto something there.
Tab: The flowers?
Arth: And if they choose themselves.
Tab: You're not making any sense.
Arth: I'm taking the piss out of you.
Tab: I couldn't tell.
Arth: That's cos you're dense.
Tab: Shut up piss face.
Arth: What's your favourite flower?
Tab: Don't know any flower names.
Arth: Yeah you do.
Tab: No.
Arth: Yeah.
Tab: I know my capabilities.
Arth: (hysterical laughter) capabilities.
Tab: What?
Arth: It just sounds funny.
Tab: Tulip.
(Arth's laughs tickle the whole way through the rest of the conversation)
Tab: Rose, Daffodil, crysthathiam, lily.
Arth: You can do better than that.
Tab: Douche.
Arth: What about Daisies or Dandilions? What about the weeds?
Tab: (silent laughter) weed.
Arth: Rodhrohren.
Tab: That's not how you say it.
Arth: Rodhrohdren.
Tab: Shut up you're not gonna get it, besides it's not a weed.
Arth: It's a fucking flower.
Tab: You were talking about weeds.
Arth: They all grow.
Tab: Do you think we're still growing?
Arth: No. We're dying.
Tab: Not true.
Arth: When your body reaches a particular age you start-
Tab: Shut up. Marigold. Primrose, Buttercup, Violet-
Arth: Bluebell.
Tab: Snowdrop. They're lovely.
Arth: Stop with the flowers now.
Tab: They are lovely though.
(Pause)
Arth: Rain sounds good on glass.
Tab: Rain sounds good on everything, it's far superior to the sun.
Arth: Sun's better.
Tab: Whatever.
Setting: Tabitha and Arthur are looking out of a window together at the rain. They are stoned. It is mid evening and they are sat on camping fold out chairs in Arthur's shack house.
Tab: Rain's great.
Arth: Yeah.
Tab: The flowers look so bright.
Arth: It's the rain.
Tab: And the water.
(Tab passes Arth the joint)
Tab: How do flowers decide what colour they'll be?
Arth: The seeds.
Tab: No but how does a flower know what colour it should be from the seed?
Arth: What does that mean?
(Pause)
Tab: I don't know.
Arth: No, you were onto something there.
Tab: The flowers?
Arth: And if they choose themselves.
Tab: You're not making any sense.
Arth: I'm taking the piss out of you.
Tab: I couldn't tell.
Arth: That's cos you're dense.
Tab: Shut up piss face.
Arth: What's your favourite flower?
Tab: Don't know any flower names.
Arth: Yeah you do.
Tab: No.
Arth: Yeah.
Tab: I know my capabilities.
Arth: (hysterical laughter) capabilities.
Tab: What?
Arth: It just sounds funny.
Tab: Tulip.
(Arth's laughs tickle the whole way through the rest of the conversation)
Tab: Rose, Daffodil, crysthathiam, lily.
Arth: You can do better than that.
Tab: Douche.
Arth: What about Daisies or Dandilions? What about the weeds?
Tab: (silent laughter) weed.
Arth: Rodhrohren.
Tab: That's not how you say it.
Arth: Rodhrohdren.
Tab: Shut up you're not gonna get it, besides it's not a weed.
Arth: It's a fucking flower.
Tab: You were talking about weeds.
Arth: They all grow.
Tab: Do you think we're still growing?
Arth: No. We're dying.
Tab: Not true.
Arth: When your body reaches a particular age you start-
Tab: Shut up. Marigold. Primrose, Buttercup, Violet-
Arth: Bluebell.
Tab: Snowdrop. They're lovely.
Arth: Stop with the flowers now.
Tab: They are lovely though.
(Pause)
Arth: Rain sounds good on glass.
Tab: Rain sounds good on everything, it's far superior to the sun.
Arth: Sun's better.
Tab: Whatever.
Light conversation and face paint.
Today began in a positive light. I've been looking after Livvy, (my partners niece). We've been painting faces and boxes and tables. Who knows what her parents will say. Now my partner (Mark) is in the garden with her playing sword fights. I decided to come in before there was a severed digit, or near eye loss.
Yesterday wrote some dialouge between my two protagonists. It's not going to go into the story itself, I'm just exercising their characters a bit, trying to get to know them better.
The story is called 'Fixed', it began with the male protagonist (Archibold - Arthur for short) being murdered by a mystery character. The story followed his day before he died. He fixes computers cheaply, is a bit of a womaniser, but a decent bloke and has a twin sister who is mainly stoned. He was loosly based on my brother, who may not be a womaniser but is a computer genius like Arthur.
His twin sister (Tabitha) is in and out of a relationship with Arthur's best friend, Harvey. She is still yet to be developed further. And there is a desperate love interest of Arthur's called Kelly. She becomes obsessed with him and finds she can't play her instruments anymore which makes her a little mad.
After my first workshop of this story - (with a small group of talented but very critical writing friends) - I had to delete most of my characters, ones which I haven't explained in this blog and found I actually had no point to my story, just some a very well developed protagonist.
The little dialouge I wrote is to start trying to map out my character better and find a story for them. I quote my old prose lecturer (for she was a true inspiration) that if you have a good character then you can find a story for them. Character first, they will make the story for you if you know them well enough.
Yesterday wrote some dialouge between my two protagonists. It's not going to go into the story itself, I'm just exercising their characters a bit, trying to get to know them better.
The story is called 'Fixed', it began with the male protagonist (Archibold - Arthur for short) being murdered by a mystery character. The story followed his day before he died. He fixes computers cheaply, is a bit of a womaniser, but a decent bloke and has a twin sister who is mainly stoned. He was loosly based on my brother, who may not be a womaniser but is a computer genius like Arthur.
His twin sister (Tabitha) is in and out of a relationship with Arthur's best friend, Harvey. She is still yet to be developed further. And there is a desperate love interest of Arthur's called Kelly. She becomes obsessed with him and finds she can't play her instruments anymore which makes her a little mad.
After my first workshop of this story - (with a small group of talented but very critical writing friends) - I had to delete most of my characters, ones which I haven't explained in this blog and found I actually had no point to my story, just some a very well developed protagonist.
The little dialouge I wrote is to start trying to map out my character better and find a story for them. I quote my old prose lecturer (for she was a true inspiration) that if you have a good character then you can find a story for them. Character first, they will make the story for you if you know them well enough.
Sunday 1 August 2010
To begin with.
I'm currantly living in a house in Prescot. One which is inhabited by the insane and broke. The gas, electricity and interent run out quite quickly and the food is mostly processed. It is a low point in my life where I can't afford to eat, wash, travel. But can afford to type and sleep.
The house mainly smells of vinegar, lady of the house has an absession with it. I saw her drink it with diet pepsi this morning and the bathroom stinks of it.
There are layers of papers (bills, menus, orders, tasks) lining the surfaces and a sunday sport newspaper on the table. I felt sick when flicking through it. It was the abundance of tits, it was the human shame on every page.
It is good to take the piss out of your fellow man, but to roll and reveal in the disturbed characters on our earth is a little too much for me. I'll stay with the light mocking.
This house, for all the people living it in, is not noisey. I rarely hear music played unless I'm playing it. This is another problem with the house. I breathe music. I'm not used to depressed silence and car engines.
This is not my home. I aven't had one for two months now.
My old prose lecturer would say that it is impossible to get silence. There is always something moving, breathing. In that case this house isn't silent as much as flat. Flat hope. Flat dreams. Flat problems which the head lady takes out on me in a subtle and brutal fashion.
To releave myself of some of this flat pressure I've started a blog, to exercise the writing, get it out on the wide web for people to read and maybe discuss. Who knows. Most of the blogs I imagine will be writing ideas or debating some small life crisis. But it'll be to the best of my abilities and hopefully not too self absessed.
The house mainly smells of vinegar, lady of the house has an absession with it. I saw her drink it with diet pepsi this morning and the bathroom stinks of it.
There are layers of papers (bills, menus, orders, tasks) lining the surfaces and a sunday sport newspaper on the table. I felt sick when flicking through it. It was the abundance of tits, it was the human shame on every page.
It is good to take the piss out of your fellow man, but to roll and reveal in the disturbed characters on our earth is a little too much for me. I'll stay with the light mocking.
This house, for all the people living it in, is not noisey. I rarely hear music played unless I'm playing it. This is another problem with the house. I breathe music. I'm not used to depressed silence and car engines.
This is not my home. I aven't had one for two months now.
My old prose lecturer would say that it is impossible to get silence. There is always something moving, breathing. In that case this house isn't silent as much as flat. Flat hope. Flat dreams. Flat problems which the head lady takes out on me in a subtle and brutal fashion.
To releave myself of some of this flat pressure I've started a blog, to exercise the writing, get it out on the wide web for people to read and maybe discuss. Who knows. Most of the blogs I imagine will be writing ideas or debating some small life crisis. But it'll be to the best of my abilities and hopefully not too self absessed.
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