Suzanne Bowditch's Blog, page 43

Writing seminar

Today I attended my first writing workshop. We learnt how to set up a blog, and how to avoid the pitfalls of blogging. Then we had a very enjoyable creative writing class, in which we were given different pictures, and objects to write a story around. My picture was of a young girl working on a farm. It looked around the 1950’s and she had a very sad expression on her face as she carried a bucket of what looked like manure. There was a stern looking woman stood behind her, with her hands on her hips (which I said was her mother!)The creative writing teacher was an absolute scream. She giggled and joked throughout the session (and was mostly funny!).

After a break for lunch (sandwiches and cakes, provided for by the library) we had a serious discussion on plot structure, characterization and dialogue. The teacher, a well versed writer herself, shared her secrets on publishing, self publishing and e kindles – and all the pitfalls that it can bring. She said (and I quote):

“There has never been a better time to become an author!”

I feel inspired to start my third book in my trilogy, set around the same family as each generation deals with their own diversities and conflicts.

Happy writing!!

The weekend movie

My daughter and I chose to go to the cinema this weekend. A new film that had so so reviews was showing, so along we trotted, popcorn and a soft drink in hand, to sit at the very back of the show, just like naughty school kids.

Kate Winslet exudes class. This new movie of hers, called  The Dressmaker, is no exception. I have been a fan of hers since she fell in love with Leonardo di Caprio, in Titanic, and she just gets better and better.

The Dressmaker is an Australian story, set in rural Victoria in the 1950’s She was banished from this very small (and dreary) town as a young child, after being accused of murder. After discovering that her mother is now ill, she returns,and has revenge on her mind.

I read the book version of this film some months back, and found the film to be not as good as the printed version. Still, Ms Winslet rocked a very good and original Australian accent, so that anyone watching would think that she was a true blue Aussie!

It was also my sons birthday on the Thursday, but his schedule is so intense (last count, he’s in three bands!) that it is difficult to pin him down. He had a gig on his birthday, so we had the honor of his presence for Saturday luncheon.We took him to a local burger joint that had a licence, and watched as he downed a couple of Canadian clubs. My husband also joined him “He cannot drink alone!’ was his excuse, and a pleasant afternoon was had.

Now, its back to my writing. I have just finished my second book, and am researching thew third. It is a trilogy about the same family, set in Australia with roots back in Wales. I love writing and am totally annoyed with myself that I haven’t taken the plunge and written before! Still, its never too late, so they say….!

Short story: Maggies

The alarm on her mobile made its usual high pitched wail, and Naomie reached out to switch it off. It was a real cheap phone that she had bought in her local bargain basement store; none of those expensive iPhone sixes for her, that was just for her teenage children. She pulled back the covers on her bed, and stretched. Her little dog Buster, stretched next to her and yawned.

‘What are you doing here, aye? Dad must have left the door open, you naughty thing!’

Buster looked up at her pleadingly, knowing that he was not allowed in the bedroom, let alone on the bed. His tail was down, and he whined quietly.

‘Well just this once, I suppose.’ She made her way to the bathroom, and looked at herself in the mirror. ‘Wow, my hair is a mess, and I definitely need to lose a few pounds.’ she thought to herself.

As she stepped into the hallway, she sensed the quietness around her. Her two teenage children had not risen yet, and would stay there if she didn’t knock their doors. Her son in particular liked to sleep at all hours of the day; he was a regular night owl! He was in a band, so when he wasn’t playing in the local pubs, then he was playing his guitar from the spare room.

‘Come on, Molls! Haven’t you got a dance rehearsal this morning?’ she knocked on her daughter’s bedroom door, and then put the kettle on for some tea.

Then she spotted them; lined up on the fence just outside her patio area. Jim must have opened the blinds, as the sunlight scattered itself across her rug, warming the room. As she opened the patio door a fraction, they swooped down onto the chairs, warbling away as if wishing her a ‘Good morning.’ She made her way outside and sat down with her tea, and a crust from the end of her loaf.

It had started when she had thrown bits of crumbs from Molly’s toast; now they knew where to come for their breakfast. The magpies had gradually become bolder and bolder each day, until they now felt like a part of her family. They sat on the chairs while she drank her morning cuppa, and looked at her with their fierce expressions. Their beaks were long and looked as if they could give someone a nasty peck. The one that she recognized immediately she had named ‘Bright eyes.’ This bird was a young juvenile and seemed more alert and less bashful than the others. Bright eyes would take the bits of toast from her hand and would perch onto the next chair, as if she had been invited.

A movement in the kitchen area indicated to Naomie that her daughter was up.

‘Put some toast on, Molls, or we will be late!’

A face poked his head through the blinds; it was her son Evan

‘Still feeding these scrawny creatures, mum?’ he inquired. The birds looked over to him, and warbled uncertainly, then took flight. They sat on the nearest fence, looking at them by turning their heads from side to side.

‘You’ve frightened them now!’ she scolded her son.

‘Not to worry, they’ll be back, as sure as eggs are eggs. They must be the fattest birds around! There’s a wonder they can sit on that fence without it falling down!’ Naomie gave her son a friendly swipe across his head, and laughed.

‘It’s my contribution to my wildlife friends, cheeky!’ she cried.

As she buttered her toast, she looked up; the birds were back on the chairs like little sentries.

Her day had started.

Short Story: Sally

Sally pulled open the veranda doors and stepped out onto the balcony. She was standing at the back of the house, looking up at the magnificent snow clad fir trees that made up the border to her garden. She stood with her hands clasping the rails, as pure frozen air emitted  from her breath. She rubbed her hands against the iciness of the day. A gentle wind made itself present as the chimes at the end of the balcony tinkled under its tutelage.

She looked down onto the garden, to see the deer tracks in the snow, which looked so fresh. There was a rustling further along the corner of the house, where the trees met the now snow covered lawn. The swings and slide that were normally the play areas of the garden, were now a ghostly white.  A movement beyond the small snow covered lump that was normally the barbeque area caught her eye; and then she saw it. A huge deer was standing a little way back. She tried to focus her eyes, squinting in the pale sunlight that had decided to peer through the trees. Yes, there was a small deer stood beside the adult; a mother and doe together at the end of her garden!

They had been living in Canada for nearly six months. Sally, Jake and the boys had flown over for a holiday initially, to take in some skiing and snowboarding that they all loved. They had fallen in love with the people and culture of Canada, and had applied for residency almost immediately. And now they were here, in the heart of the ski resorts and loving every minute of it.

Lately, there had been a subtle change in her relationship with her husband. Jake had embraced his new home and all that it had offered, but these past few weeks had seen a difference in her husband. He was not so light of step, or enthusiastic about his surroundings as he had been just a few months back. His relationship with the boys had changed too; where once he would take them snowboarding on the weekends, now he fobbed them off, claiming to be tired. There always seem to be some project at work to complete instead. This had led to a distance between Sally and him too, a barrier that no amount of subtle comments, pleading looks or downright discussion had assuaged.

So, the inevitable had happened, and they’d had a blazing row. They had sent the boys to bed on a pretext that  there was a TV show on that was not suitable for them to watch, and then id started. Looking back, Sally blamed the red wine that she was knocking back as if there were no tomorrow; and perhaps she felt that there was no future for them anymore. She had become more and more tense, the more that he’d pushed her away, and she’d exploded last night.

Now, with a red wine hangover, she was feeling remorseful. Jake had left early and taken the boys up to the resort for some skiing, leaving her alone to her thoughts. They had barely spoken to each other, and she knew that is was the start of something momentous in their lives.

Where would they go from here?

Today, more than any other day, she felt that Canada was not home. She missed the atmosphere of home; the bright lights and the shopping. She felt a pang for her favourite restaurants, and for her family. They had all melded into one in her mind, and now they rose like spectres, roaring into her mind and spoiling the quiet calm of this snow clad scene in front of her.

She turned her head and walked into the living area. There was a noise outside, and she could see their family car pulling up onto the drive, and Jake and the boys spilling out. She sighed with dread. What would Jake’s mood be like after last night?

Jake and the boys walked into the room. The boys, sensing that there was some tension in the air, made themselves scarce.

‘We have to talk.’ he said. He sighed, and led her into the bedroom. She sat on the bed, and suddenly felt an impending dread.  What was he going to say?

Jake held an envelope in his hands. It looked pretty official, and one that she’d not seen before. She’d not checked their PO box at Whistler this week, so she’d not picked up the mail.

‘I know that its been a little strained for a while, but I’ve had a lot on my mind.’ he started to say. That’s an understatement, she thought, somewhat peevishly.

Jake looked at her face, and continued on quickly, sensing another row.

‘Its just that…well…they are really pleased at my work here lately. They regard me as a valuable member of the team.’ Jake paused, and swallowed a few times, nervously.

What was he going to spring on her?

‘Righto, I’ll just come out with it. They have offered me a promotion. The thing is the firm is expanding and have opened up some new offices. They want me to run them. I know how fond you are of Canada, and the boys love the skiing, and all the snow, but ….’ he paused, looking at her.

‘How do you fancy living in California?’

Sally looked up at her husband. A few seconds ago, it seemed that her world had ended. This was so unexpected, that she threw her arms around him in excitement. Jake looked perplexed.

‘I thought you loved it here, Sal. Lately though, I thought you might have been hankering for home.Could we move again, in such a small period of time?

Sally looked at her husband of fourteen years. So many things had run through her mind this morning, none of them good thoughts. Life is so fragile, it can turn on the toss of a coin. Her doubts and insecurities vanished.

‘Lets go tell the boys’ she said.

 

Short Story: Lucy’s garden

Lucy sat on the pine wood bench at the bottom of her small terraced garden. From this viewpoint she could just make out the edge of the woods yonder, and the M4 motorway, that wound itself across the southern part of England, finishing up in London. She smiled to herself as she remembered the last time she’d visited that capital city – it was for a theatre weekend with some of the girls from the factory. They’d had a whale of a time, trawling around the markets looking at trinkets, and visiting the historic sites such as Buckingham Palace and the Houses of Parliament. She enjoyed walking along the banks of the river Thames the best though, as they’d crossed at Chelsea Bridge, and watched the small boats chug up the river.

She sighed as she remembered lots of good weekends like that. It was when she was working that she was able to get about and social a lot more. She also had her own wages that gave her an independence. Now, she relied on a widow’s pension and a disability allowance from the government for her legs. She looked around at her newly laid patio and her pot plants placed around the edges in what she hoped was a symmetrical and pleasing pattern. She watched enough gardening shows on the telly that she felt like an expert. Her marigolds had started to wilt, and the climbing rose that trailed across her whitewashed wall had seen better days. She looked at her patio chairs. Her outdoor furniture had once been Jack’s pride and joy; now it looked faded and tattered. There was a bowl of wild flowers left on the small side table, in badly need of water ‘or to be thrown in the rubbish tip’ she thought to herself, and made a mental note to clear them in the morning..

She suddenly felt depressed and lonely. A sharp wind had unexpectedly blown up the alley and left her with goose bumps. She pulled her cardigan over her shoulders, and tucked a rug over her knees. The thought of going back indoors just yet left her feeling anxious – there was no one at home since her Jack had passed away some years back, and the children had long grown up and gone.

Suddenly, she heard a car pull up to the side of the house. She heard doors opening and then slamming, and the sounds of a mum soothing her child. There was the sound of footsteps coming from the alleyway at the bottom of her garden, and the gate that sat next to the shed started to rattle. The persistent caller  managed to undo the clasp and a small body flew into the garden. He had a blue anorak on, and a yellow jumper poking out from under it. His Postman Pat wellies squeaked as he ran up the path and shouted, ‘Gran, here we are, we’ve come to visit you! ‘

Lucy’s depression lifted immediately, and she grinned, opening her arms out for a bear hug. :)

Coffee and cake

I have spent the whole weekend at the shops. My daughter Jessica is now 13 years old, and is into shoes, jewellery (especially piercings) and shoes in a BIG way. We went to an open air market place which has designer clothes reduced, on Friday, where I bought myself a pair of leather boots. Saturday, was  spent wearing said boots to ‘break them in’ for Melbourne in a few weeks time. Well, results came back – and the boots did not hurt, not one little bit. Jessica is trying to persuade me to buy her heeled boots now, but so far I am not capitulating, no siree! She had to content herself with a new top.

Sunday, same time same place, we went back to the lovely humungous shops down the road – Robina, yay! This time, it was a jewellery day. Jess had some ‘ear cuffs’ which sound painful, but were surprisingly sophisticated on her ears. I had a pair, so we are now looking more like twins everyday ( I wish ).

We spent hours at a new warehouse type of store, that sells everything for the home. This is my other love – home furnishings. I bought beautiful large purple flowers and a clear cut vase to go with it, and they are resplendent on my side board.

The second week Jess’s holidays start tomorrow. We went to the cinema last night to see a sweet film entitled ‘Inside Out.’ Last week it was ‘Jurassic World’ and I could not BELIEVE how good the effects were (have I mentioned this before? They were awesome!).

Bubbles the budgie goes back home tomorrow. He has been a joy to have and chirps away cheerfully all day. Billy my jealous terrier, looks up at him and growls incessantly, but Bubbles does not seem to notice…he’s so sweet.

BTW We had a lovely vanilla slice to go with our coffees… there was enough cake for us to share, and it had superb icing on top…scrumptious.

More news next week….over and out. :) :)

Short story: Josie’s day

Josie pulled back the flower patterned curtains and looked around her bedroom. She was in her childhood home,and her mother had not got around to decorating the room. The familiar pink and grey striped wallpaper still adorned one wall, alongside the plain pink painted walls that were covered with her favourite posters. Robbie Williams in his ‘Let me entertain you’ pose, strutted his stuff alongside a poster of the hip and seriously pouty faces of the members of Oasis. Wow, she remembered the excitement she’d felt when she had concert tickets through the post for the Oasis gig. She remembered shivering with excitement on the day of the concert, and what she’d worn. Julie had picked her up so early, in her new skinny tight jeans and her Doc Martins. Julie’s mother had allowed her to wear lipstick for just that day, and she had brought some over for Josie to use. They’d caught a train up to London; two sixteen year olds with the world at their feet.

‘Come on, lovey! We’re going to be late otherwise, get a move on.’ Josie’s dad called up the stairs. Jack was now in his early seventies, but was still able to run around the block every morning, and had kept himself slim and fit. Josie could hear a movement next store, and the handsome face of her son James, peeped around the door.

‘Hi mum! Did you hear Grandpa calling us?’ her son inquired.

‘I think the undead must have heard him!’ James giggled at her attempt at a joke. She needed to lighten her mood to prepare for the days’ events. Her heart sank as she thought about why they were even there, back in the town of her childhood. She rarely visited anymore, and had only started to make more regular appearances to help out her dad. He was an independent old soul, though, who’d insisted on caring for himself as much as possible, especially since mum’s illness. He had insisted that she spend this milestone day at her home.

Josie sighed, and looked at herself in the mirror, before adjusting her fascinator. She looked across the room, to her old childhood dressing table, still full of her pictures, jewellery and nick knacks that she’d treasured once, but now seemed so obsolete to her. A picture of her mum took pride of place on the dresser. It was a photo taken on a sunny day when Josie was still James’ age. Her and her mum were squinting at the sun, sitting in a filed of cornflowers, enjoying a picnic. Josie remembered her dad taking the pic, all those years ago.

Just then, James made another appearance, and held out the crook of his arm to her.

‘You look lovely, mum. Dad will be blown away. Come on, let’s go we can’t keep him waiting or he may change his mind! Blown out on your wedding day. imagine that!’

Josie gave her son a nudge. ‘Cheeky thing!’ she answered, looking at her 15 year old, who stood nearly as tall as her, in her high heels. ‘I’m ready to go! You and grandpa are ganging up on me!’ she gave him a push out of her bedroom door.

Her mother’s face smiled over to her as if encouraging her to go and embrace the day.’ I so wish you could have been here mum,’ she murmured to herself. Suddenly her mood lifted and she smiled, anticipating her day.

As she closed the bedroom door, the light from the sun outside shone down on the picture, as if in approval.

Bubbles

My dear friend Karen has gone on a mini cruise off the coast of Brisbane. It is just for a week, with her hubby and kids, and she has left me in charge of her house, dogs, spa, veggie garden and of a little budgie name Bubbles, that now resides in my home.

My ever so lively terrier Billy (who’s still in the dog house after bitegate last week. has not noticed the extra addition to the family…yet. He has sniffed at the budgie’s food, and then growled at it, which has made me ever so glad that I have put Bubbles onto my side board and not on the floor as my friend suggested.

It has been an animal inspired weekend so far, as we discussed MY Family and Other Animals by Gerald Durrell in my book club, and now Bubbles arrival. We also went to see Jurassic World (the dinosaurs were out of this world, and are animals, if not technically alive at this moment in time!) We were blown away by the effects which were a lot better than the original film. I overheard a little girl behind us ask for a pet dinosaur, so that’s how good they were! Unbelievable. Which got me thinking about what us humans would treat dinosaurs if they existed today. I suppose they could be caught and caged just like every single animal on this planet of ours, which is due to our need for survival. It is an immense thought though, if a theme park such as the one in the film, existed today…I would be wary of going to it, and even more wary of our capacity to control such huge creatures for the long term. Phew.

So, as the middle of the weekend is upon me, I am going to finish my gorgeous book, entitled ‘People of the Book,’ and chill.

PS I have just discovered Geraldine Brooks (the author of my book) but am now a fan…it’s wonderful :)

My weekend

It has been a strange weekend. On Friday I went to my local library to find some books to research my next book. I am in the ‘ideas’ stage at the moment, as I have the setting and time frame in places, but have still to work on my characters. I have a lot to do and read as it is to be set in the midst of WW1.

After my library visit, I came home to a light lunch of sushi, laden with books, to find that my hubby had been over to the local bottle shop, and there was a special on white wine. Mmmmm….one glass led to another, and bang! I had a huge hangover the next morning.

So, instead of hitting my bed for the afternoon, I hit the shops. There’s a new home wares shop just opened at my lovely, and huge shopping mall, and I was first in there, buying goodies. I am a flower type of gal, in that I would happily fill my house with all kinds of artificial flowers in all shapes and sizes, and in any vase that they suit. So, its a blissful afternoon, for me, hangover headache or not.

Sunday dawned bright and sunny…beautiful Queensland winter weather. We planned to go to the markets in the afternoon, but there was a domestic drama at home first, in the form of my little fox terrier, Billy. Billy decided that with all the excitement of getting ready by us humans, that he would join in and take some underwear from my daughter’s bedroom. This led to much running around the house by him, with us chasing him. Having caught him, my hubby tried to prise the underwear from his mouth, with the help of moi. Did it work? No, and I got bit on the hand by my doggy baby!! Not good at all.

Now, I have taken Billy in hand, and I am in charge of his behaviour, not anyone else in my household.

Billy is well and truly in the dog house :( :(

Short Story: Elizabeth’s House

July 1980

Elizabeth pulled back the net curtains and looked out of the window; it was raining again. She tutted to herself, and moved to the back door of her small terraced house to get the sheets off the line. ‘Bloody weather,’ she muttered to herself, as she made her way to her washing, grabbing the washing basket in her arms. The news had promised a fine day in south Wales, and they had lied again. She looked across to her next door neighbour’s house as she worked, and noticed that Mrs Davis had her smalls out too.

‘Hey, Renee!’ she called out over the fence that separated the two properties. ‘The weatherman’s told us a load of bull, as per usual. It’s going to lash down any moment!’

Renee Davies came scuttling out, an appreciative look on her face. ‘Thanks, Elizabeth, I was watching Countdown and dozing off in my chair. I didn’t notice the weather! How’s that little granddaughter of yours? Is she pleased with having a new brother? They can get proper jealous at that age you know!’

Elizabeth nodded in agreement. ‘They can do, but not my Rhian. She has been good as gold, helping her mother change the nappies, and fetching and carrying for her. Fran says that she’s a god send; what with Jim having to go back to work so soon after the baby’s born. I’d like to help more, but you know what my arthritis is like; I would be too afraid to pick him up! They’ll be over later this afternoon, come in for a cup of tea and a cuddle.’

Elizabeth went back into her kitchen and put the kettle on. She went into her living/dining room, and looked out of the window which gave a view of the road outside her street. Just then, a pale green Morris Minor car pulled up into the driveway. It was her daughter Fran and the children. As she opened the front door, she was nearly knocked over by her eldest granddaughter, Rhian, who was excitedly clinging onto Elizabeth’s apron. She was clutching her Tiny Tears doll and giggling.

‘Hey, young lady, you nearly winded me good and proper then! Sit yourself down on my settee. I have those nice biscuits in tin, but only if your good mind!’

Rhian rushed into the living area, and Elizabeth pulled open the door for her daughter and her new baby, Michael who was fast asleep in her arms. Her daughter looked pale and tired, but it was to be expected, with a new baby and an exuberant youngster at home. Rhian was a handful at the best of times, but since the baby had come along, she had becoming more and more demanding.

‘Hello mum,’ said Fran, kissing her mother on the cheek. ‘Sorry we’re late, but this little monkey would not settle. How are you, and how’s the arthritis? Are you able to get to the chemist for pain relief?’

‘Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. You have enough to do looking after yourself and the kids. Come, let’s sit down and have a cuppa.’

They had just sipped their tea, when the back door knocked and opened to Elizabeth’s neighbour, Renee standing there holding a sponge cake.

‘Freshly made, now tuck in you lot.’ Renee sat the cake down onto the kitchen table. ‘Where is he then? Let’s grab a cuddle while I can.’

*

Elizabeth had lived in the village of Llanberis all of her life. Her father had worked in the coal pit at Newport, and so had her dear late husband Will. She had brought her family up in the small rural existence that she loved, and both of her children lived nearby. Her daughter Fran was a five minute drive away by car, and her son John lived in Newport itself with his wife and two young daughters. John didn’t go into the pit like his dad, but had got himself a couple of ‘O’ levels and had worked in the Post Office as a sorting officer for the last twenty years, while his wife Marge worked part time in a dress shop. They lad a comfortable life with their girls and managed a package holiday to Spain most years, unless John wanted to update his car to a newer model. The family came over most weekends, and stayed for lunch. If it was a fine day, John was happy to cook some bbq food outside, and this suited Elizabeth as she could just rest and watch him cook.

Fran spent most days at her mother’s house. She enjoyed chatting to the neighbours when she was over, as she had grown up with them all. Everyone had made a fuss when Michael was born. There was a gap of ten years between the baby and Rhian, and unspoken whispers of ‘Are you going to have another baby? A brother or sister will keep Rhian company.’ Until now though, there had been no sign of a baby. Elizabeth watched her daughter tenderly feed her new son his bottle; he was a much wanted later addition to their family, and she sensed how pleased her daughter was.

There was a knock at the door; her son in law Joseph appeared in the doorway.

‘I did knock, and let myself in. How’s things Elizabeth?’

*