My Words, My World

First drafts – A few pages in the large wilderness of the world of writing

Archive for the month “December, 2012”

Old Birdman

Old Birdman sits and stares

Squinting in the sun

The sparrows eagerly await the moment

when he

Opens the white paper bag

placed upon his lap

They know him now

and his eating habits.

 

The bag rustles

He looks inside

No smile lights his face

as he takes out

the sandwich

Which he will share

 

They gather around his feet

never coming too close

awaiting the moment

he eats and drops the crumbs

He watches the pigeons on the grass

fed fat from passers-by

He hopes they stay where they are

and not chase his sparrows away.

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Today

It’s the twenty second, yesterday gone
No super volcano or atomic bomb
Someones’ calculation went astray
The world should have ended yesterday
Down in Yucatan in ages past
Predictions made a little too fast
A man, a chief with feathered hat band
Arms to the sky, numbers in sand
2-1 1-2 2-0-1-2
I’m still here, what about you?

Us

The clock is ticking
Running down the time
As we run down our lives

The clock will stop one day
And so will we, we may
Look back on what we’ve done

We’ll look back and see
Just you and me, and we
Shall cherish all we done

A Time for Tea

“Does one ever learn to trust again after that trust has been abused and rejected?”  She was in one of her post-relationship moods.

“The matter of trust hangs on a knife-edge”, he said, sat squarely on the fence.

“I know that”, she replied, “I have been stabbed, deeply.”

“We live in fields of blades”, he sighed.

“Now you are being pessimist,” she retorted. “I think in the end our choices lead us to these fields you refer to as being filled with blades, or could they be filled roses?”

“Both may cut and scratch you.  Many times we sow the seeds of our own crop of blades”, he said.  “Others, unfortunately, wander too into these fields, time and again”.

“So we have experiences to avoid revisiting?”

“Sometimes it’s impossible to avoid wandering in,” he said, offering some comfort.  “From a distance these fields look beautiful, only once your inside do you realize the swaying, green stalks are really chrome blades, chopping.”

“Then the experience one had is defective as he still needs to learn further lessons.  He shall wander into these fields until he learns,” she sighed, despair creeping in.

“It’s not defective; unless you call hope a defect.  It’s hope that brings one again to the field.”

With relief that was tangible.  “Therefore I am doomed to wander the rough-made footpath and stray back into hurt, cuts and pain.  However seeing you start this conversation with pessimism and ending with a flirtation with optimism gives me strength to walk once more.”  She was warming to the idea.

“I never started a pessimist, as I have never looked upon this subject with pessimism.  Even blades have their uses, but only while they remain sharp.”  He responded, as pragmatic as ever.

“The only useful blunt utensil is a spoon,” she replied.

They exchanged glances.  He got up and put the kettle on.

 

Winter

Old, tall silver-sided Sycamore tree

Silhouette against the grey winter sky

Leaves fallen, now gone

No sign your summer ever existed

In this cold December air

No sign my summer ever existed

Gone.  Another year passing.

The longing for spring is already upon me

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Thank you NaNoWriMo

Well, the 30th November has come and gone.  How did I do?  Was it a success?

Let’s be frank.  I didn’t get 50’000 words down during the month; far from it, in fact I finished with under 20’000.  This was due, in part, to two factors.  One of which no-one could have foreseen and necessitated 3 weekends out of 4 away from home.  The other simply being that work commitments HAVE to come before my writing for pleasure as I’ve never earned a buck from my writing and I’m not in the position to do so now.  Bills must be paid and there were times during the month when I came home late and the last thing I wanted to do was sit in front of another computer.  I did force myself a few times, and it shows in what I wrote (I’m sure I’ll be murdering a fair few of THOSE darlings…).  Instead, the times when I felt at ease the words flowed, humour was easier to come by and the characters gelled and developed.

I returned from visiting my folks in England at the end of October and sat down (as I’ve previously mentioned on here) on 1st November with little idea what to do or where to go with it once I had it. I always thought it an exageration when I read that writers, or rather successful ones, don’t know what their characters are going to get up to when they sit at the keyboard.  “What a load of old tosh!” I said to myself.  However, now I’m a changed man.  It’s not tosh at all.  I started the beginning of the exercise with no plot whatsoever – none!  It developed and it is still developing and I love it.  It’s the first time this has happened to me and it’s a fantastic feeling.

So; what about my novel?  It’s there, it’s at early stages.  My characters are still sussing each other out.  I’m discovering traits in a couple of them that weren’t there at the start.  A couple of big-hitters are still yet to show their faces but they will, in time. I’ve been learning how to tell their story, I hope by the end I make at least a reasonable job of doing so.  I hope so.

Finally, I want to say a BIG THANK YOU to the NaNoWriMo team for uniting writers from all over the world for one cause; to write.  No more, no less.  In my 19’000 words you helped me become more of a writer than I was at the end of October.  There’s the possibility I may never earn a buck from my writing, but I do know I’ll enjoy it all the more for the experience during the last month. You see NaNoWriMo has given me the discipline to write, when I can.  One evening I turned out 2’000 words in one sitting.  I’ve never done that before and boy, what a feeling.

So, was it a success?  Personally, yes.

Thank you.

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