After all the lovely comments on my previous piece, Knit one Purl One, I thought I’d put up the second part of the writing exercise from the other day. It’s called The Golden Moose Café and picks up the story later in the afternoon of the day the first story is set in. Hope you enjoy! Mike
It’s been many a long day since I last posted in here, I had no idea. Quick update: Still sober, still cigarette free, still working from home so not much has changed in the last 2 years. I have been working on my novel, and I’m currently undertaking the Art of Storytelling Masterclass led by Neil Gaiman on Masterclass.com. This little story was one of the writing exercises. With it, you had to take a favourite fairy/folk tale and re-write it from the perspective of a different character as a newspaper article. The story I chose was The Princess and the Pea and the article is written, from the perspective of the mattress salesman who gets an order for 20 luxury feather mattresses to be delivered to the palace. Hope you enjoy, Mike The short story, Local Mattress Salesman Hits the Big Time, is after the cut.
I’m a bit of a Johnny-Come-Lately to the world of Doctor Who. I remember as a kid watching it with Grandfather but I never bothered with the reboot until I got Netflix last year. The Australian selection of TV options was limited, to put it politely, so Doctor Who it was. I rather liked it. I must have I’ve watched all the available seasons twice.
Yesterday I wrote about my “practice novel”, the next piece of writing I’m going to undertake to give myself something to practice on. To learn new techniques, to write only for the joy of telling the story and not worrying about publishing deals or publishing at all. To just write and learn and have some fun.
When you make the decision to write, whether it’s a: story, novel, novella, or short fiction piece, staying with the idea long enough to actually accomplish something can be easier said than done.
I’ve been busy since we last spoke. Not in a “get in there, get things done and have a wonderful holiday by the beach,” kind of way, but in a “it seems like nothing is happening, but I know it is, so suck it,” kind of way.
Writing for me has always been a source of therapy. The good gets recorded, the bad and the moments of “oh dear Lord what have I done now.” All of it is a fodder for the worlds I create and the characters who dwell in them. Last year I started real therapy, and was surprised the Hollywood image of the therapist’s couch didn’t exist. The room was small, square, with a comfy lemon leather chair. I felt a bit ripped off really.
I often ponder the dilemma, plotter or pantser. It’s a conundrum for writers. Do we plot out meticulously the comings and goings, doings and don’ts of our characters, or do we take the bull by the stirrups and give our imagination dwelling squatters free reign to tell their stories on their own.
The other day on twitter I received a tweet from a follower asking why I’d stopped blogging. I thought about it and realised the main reason I’d stopped was that I simply forgot to sit down and do it. I’ve blogged before about being a gold medal winning procrastinator, but it wasn’t procrastination that stopped me. It was simply a case of I didn’t feel like I had anything to say, at least nothing to say worth the time it would take for anyone to read.
Blame it on the flu, blame it on being home for days on end, hell, blame it on the boogie if you like, but the last couple of days I’ve watched a couple of movies that really made my heart sing, and made me realise how far we’ve come since I was younger.