All posts tagged: creativity

Calden Cove

Last year I began writing a gay romance novel, purely for my own entertainment. When I lost my job, my belief in myself and my confidence in everything hit the floor. As unemployment stretched from days to months, my confidence gradually dropped even lower. I stopped doing anything. I stopped writing. I believe that writing was a waste of time, a silly fantasy I had no time for. Since obtaining a new job, I’ve been focused on that to the exclusion of all else. Recently I came across the gay romance novel. I read it and then had a look at a forum I’m a member of, and saw the comments I’d received from other posters who had read a portion of it. I started writing again last Saturday and I’m just writing for me. That said, I’d love to see what others have to say about it, so without any further ado, please find behind the cut the first chapter of my gay romance novel “Calden Cove.” It’s pretty rough, but I sort of …

Doing it for yourself

Today I read a book. With pages. Not a computer file on my Kindle. It’s been a long time since I read a book. With pages. And the smell of pages, and dust on the pages. It was wonderful. The book was also highly enjoyable but I think I enjoyed reading the words and turning the pages more than “How to Write Movies for Profit” angle of the book.

On Inspiration and Other Things… I find inspiration in art. The art of those who have already successfully achieved their goals and found their creative outlets. This morning on Facebook I saw a link to a collection of photographs by Dutch photographer Niki Feijen (the link is above, located under the photograph). In the photographs, Niki captures a sense of overwhelming loss and sadness, as the images show abandoned rooms, most with their owners possessions still intact.

And the rains came tumbling down…

  Since starting my new job, I’ve done pretty much nothing, but work and sleep. A few hours of commuting a day also comes into play. To get the new job update out of the way, I’m loving it. It’s a lot of work, but it’s fun, it’s fresh and it’s keeping me on my toes. All the things I was looking for really. I got very lucky when I found that role.

Happy Darkness

Recently, as part of a writers workshop group I’m a member of, we had an exercise about writing emotion. Frankly, I find that rather difficult. How much is too much? How little is too little? Does the reader really get what I’m laying down with this emotional moment or is it really a piece of creative flatware, going nowhere. The piece I wrote was entitled Happy Darkness, and it tells two distinct scenes, both dealing with the characters happiness. The first scene is a conversation over the telephone between two sisters, the second scene is a conversation by a stalker standing alone in the rain.

Write the Fire

  Yesterday, while undertaking serious research for a writing idea – okay, I was procrastinating on Facebook – I saw the most stunning picture of an abandoned theatre in America somewhere. It was beautiful, haunting, and sad. The photograph was a piece of art that gave rise to a spurt of creativity and inspiration. It made me wonder where others got their inspiration from and what random triggers could do.

Iconically Australian

  When you hear the word Australia there are so many iconic images that instantly come to mind. The Sydney Harbour Bridge, The Opera House, Uluru, Kangaroos lying on red dirt, koala’s sleeping off a feed of eucalyptus leaves in the crook of a branch. Heat, and beaches, Christmas’ on the beach and Paul Hogan’s 80’s Australia promotion involving shrimps and barbies. Given Australian’s don’t call them shrimps though I guess that’s not really as iconically Australian as it appears.


Last night on Facebook I came across a post by one of the people I follow. In it he asked the question “What was the first movie you went to see?” For me, I knew instantly what that movie was. I was instantly transported, back to the mid 1970’s and the salty smelling Cinema 2 at The Village Twin Cinema in Gosford. I could feel the carpeted red seats, and the thrill and excitement as the room went dark, and the screen lit up. I was instantly that four year old boy again who couldn’t understand why Mary Poppins was leaving and in the scene when she is floating away, I was that four year old little boy who stood up in the cinema and shouted out “bye bye Mary Poppins, come back soon.”