Aimee Said's Blog, page 2
October 28, 2013
Finding Freia visits the Bookish Manicurist
Of all the cool things people have done in response to reading Finding Freia Lockhart, this is probably as cool as it can possibly get:
Yes? Yes!
Visit the Bookish Manicurist for more literary nail inspiration.
Yes? Yes!Visit the Bookish Manicurist for more literary nail inspiration.
October 27, 2013
Back when music mattered
I woke up (well, logged on) to the news of Lou Reed's death, and, like many judging from the outpouring of grief and links to Youtube on Twitter, was reminded of listening to his music in my mid-teens. Just hearing the opening bars of 'Walk on the Wild Side' takes me instantly back to a summer holiday spent housesitting for a friend with extraordinarily trusting parents, do-da-do-do-da-da-doing along to 'Walk on the Wild Side' while dancing at a distance from the stereo lest the needle skipped.
Back then, music mattered to me even more than books did. Songs reached out as if they were written just for me. They could make me cry, cheer me up after another crappy shift at the supermarket, make me hopeful that tomorrow would be better. My folders and school diary were covered in scrawled lyrics that captured my mood from moment to moment. Morrissey featured heavily. He knew my pain.
These days I don't listen to that much music (well, not that much aimed at a post-preschool audience) and when I do I rarely feel an emotional reaction beyond 'that's quite nice' or 'that's just noise'. I guess I have a lot more going on in my life now than I did when I spent so many hours sitting alone in my bedroom with only my boombox for company, but it's more than that. I no longer turn to music to find comfort. I don't need to know that someone else out there feels exactly like I do, or need a catchy chorus to lift my mood, But for sad times I'll always have Morrissey.
Back then, music mattered to me even more than books did. Songs reached out as if they were written just for me. They could make me cry, cheer me up after another crappy shift at the supermarket, make me hopeful that tomorrow would be better. My folders and school diary were covered in scrawled lyrics that captured my mood from moment to moment. Morrissey featured heavily. He knew my pain.
These days I don't listen to that much music (well, not that much aimed at a post-preschool audience) and when I do I rarely feel an emotional reaction beyond 'that's quite nice' or 'that's just noise'. I guess I have a lot more going on in my life now than I did when I spent so many hours sitting alone in my bedroom with only my boombox for company, but it's more than that. I no longer turn to music to find comfort. I don't need to know that someone else out there feels exactly like I do, or need a catchy chorus to lift my mood, But for sad times I'll always have Morrissey.
October 24, 2013
In case of fire
I'm a sucker for those 'what the contents of your bag say about you' posts, but since my current 'handbag' is a nappy bag with my wallet and sunnies stowed in the back pocket I thought I'd move to the less mundane topic of what I'd save if my house was on fire.
Back when we had Big Orange Cat, Mr Fantapants and I had a recurring conversation about who I'd save first if there was a fire: BOC or Mr F? My answer never changed; I'd save BOC first because I could pick him up and run out of the house. That this was something that would be physically impossible for me to do with Mr F didn't stop him being slightly shirty about my choice. Flash forward to a catless house and the conversation is redundant - we'd both save Ms Marmalade first (that said, I can see Mr F attempting to hoik me over his shoulder in a fireman's carry at the same time; my physical limitations remain).
Assuming that my loved ones were safe, here's what else I'd grab, in order of preciousness:
us as cats - for my 24th birthday, Mr F drew a portrait of us as cats. He is a handsome ginger and I have a spectacular snow leopard-esque tail. I am still flattered that he gave me such a beautiful tail.
Barbara Hanrahan print - I've loved Barbara Hanrahan's art and her writing since high school, so this is one of those I-never-thought-I'd-actually-own-one items. It was purchased on a whim while I was working at an art on paper fair, but I'm so glad I spent a month's pay on it because it makes me happy every time I look at it.
charm bracelet - originally my mum's when she was a teenager, she passed this bracelet down to me when I was 16. Among the charms are a champagne bucket on ice, a handsome bear, a skull and a statue of Aphrodite, given to me by Mr F to mark our first trip to London. Destined to be a family heirloom. first edition Wombles - my love of the Wombles extended so far as to give myself Bungo as an unofficial middle name when I was 10. Another heirloom for Ms M.
Yep, that's all I need.
Back when we had Big Orange Cat, Mr Fantapants and I had a recurring conversation about who I'd save first if there was a fire: BOC or Mr F? My answer never changed; I'd save BOC first because I could pick him up and run out of the house. That this was something that would be physically impossible for me to do with Mr F didn't stop him being slightly shirty about my choice. Flash forward to a catless house and the conversation is redundant - we'd both save Ms Marmalade first (that said, I can see Mr F attempting to hoik me over his shoulder in a fireman's carry at the same time; my physical limitations remain).
Assuming that my loved ones were safe, here's what else I'd grab, in order of preciousness:
us as cats - for my 24th birthday, Mr F drew a portrait of us as cats. He is a handsome ginger and I have a spectacular snow leopard-esque tail. I am still flattered that he gave me such a beautiful tail.
Barbara Hanrahan print - I've loved Barbara Hanrahan's art and her writing since high school, so this is one of those I-never-thought-I'd-actually-own-one items. It was purchased on a whim while I was working at an art on paper fair, but I'm so glad I spent a month's pay on it because it makes me happy every time I look at it.
charm bracelet - originally my mum's when she was a teenager, she passed this bracelet down to me when I was 16. Among the charms are a champagne bucket on ice, a handsome bear, a skull and a statue of Aphrodite, given to me by Mr F to mark our first trip to London. Destined to be a family heirloom. first edition Wombles - my love of the Wombles extended so far as to give myself Bungo as an unofficial middle name when I was 10. Another heirloom for Ms M.
Yep, that's all I need.
October 23, 2013
Things that freak me out
[Hat tip to Fat Mum Slim for topic inspiration.]
Gastropods - snails, slugs and any other invertebrates that sploodge along on their slimy tums. (Sadly this extends to earthworms who I know are benign and really very useful but still make me reel in fright if I accidentally come across one while digging in the vegie patch.) My molluscophobia dates back to fifth grade, when I trod on a slug in the dark on my way to a midnight fridge raid at a friend's house. I can still feel it squooshing between my toes... Medical procedures on TV - I don't care whether it's real surgery or Grey's Anatomy, I do not want to see anyone's insides.People who can dislocate their joints at will - please don't.The sucky-thing they use at the dentist - I always feel as though it's going to attach itself to my tongue, like an out-of-control vacuum cleaner...or a Dr Who special effect.Going fast - I'm not a fan of autobahns, high-speed freeways, bungyjumps or rollercoasters. I know some people get a thrill from it. They are kerazy.Wobbly teeth - seeing young friends wobbling their loose teeth with their tongues or - horror of horrors, trying to extract them with their fingers, string or other home-dentistry instruments - makes my stomach churn.Driving - I don't drive so people are surprised when they learn that I got my license at 19, on my first attempt. Even as a learner I was a nervous driver; now, it gives me panic attacks.People who don't like animals - I understand being a dog person or a cat person or even a reptile person, but if you tell me you don't-like-animals-fullstop I will back away slowly and then run as fast as I can.
Gastropods - snails, slugs and any other invertebrates that sploodge along on their slimy tums. (Sadly this extends to earthworms who I know are benign and really very useful but still make me reel in fright if I accidentally come across one while digging in the vegie patch.) My molluscophobia dates back to fifth grade, when I trod on a slug in the dark on my way to a midnight fridge raid at a friend's house. I can still feel it squooshing between my toes... Medical procedures on TV - I don't care whether it's real surgery or Grey's Anatomy, I do not want to see anyone's insides.People who can dislocate their joints at will - please don't.The sucky-thing they use at the dentist - I always feel as though it's going to attach itself to my tongue, like an out-of-control vacuum cleaner...or a Dr Who special effect.Going fast - I'm not a fan of autobahns, high-speed freeways, bungyjumps or rollercoasters. I know some people get a thrill from it. They are kerazy.Wobbly teeth - seeing young friends wobbling their loose teeth with their tongues or - horror of horrors, trying to extract them with their fingers, string or other home-dentistry instruments - makes my stomach churn.Driving - I don't drive so people are surprised when they learn that I got my license at 19, on my first attempt. Even as a learner I was a nervous driver; now, it gives me panic attacks.People who don't like animals - I understand being a dog person or a cat person or even a reptile person, but if you tell me you don't-like-animals-fullstop I will back away slowly and then run as fast as I can.
October 22, 2013
What she read: Great Aussie YA
One of the (many) great things about Ms Marmalade starting to sleep through the night at 8 months is that I was finally awake enough to be able to read more than two pages of a book before falling asleep. Sometimes I even manage whole chapters!
Over the past few months I've been catching up on my to-read list, starting with some somewhat recent Aussie releases. As I've disclaimed many times before, book reviews are an artform at which I suck, but here are some books I really loved and an attempt to explain why. (Btw, books are listed in the order I read them, not by how much I liked them; links are to Goodreads.)
Wildlife by Fiona Wood - great characters; duel narration; straight-talk about love, sex and the murkiness between them.
Girl Defective by Simmone Howell - gritty, funny and real; breathtaking turns of phrase; a love interest I could fall for.
New Guinea Moon by Kate Constable - transported me to PNG on the cusp of Independence; beautiful, thoughtful writing.
Only Ever Always by Penni Russon - parallel worlds; duel narration; still a bit spooked.
Over the past few months I've been catching up on my to-read list, starting with some somewhat recent Aussie releases. As I've disclaimed many times before, book reviews are an artform at which I suck, but here are some books I really loved and an attempt to explain why. (Btw, books are listed in the order I read them, not by how much I liked them; links are to Goodreads.)
Wildlife by Fiona Wood - great characters; duel narration; straight-talk about love, sex and the murkiness between them.
Girl Defective by Simmone Howell - gritty, funny and real; breathtaking turns of phrase; a love interest I could fall for.
New Guinea Moon by Kate Constable - transported me to PNG on the cusp of Independence; beautiful, thoughtful writing.
Only Ever Always by Penni Russon - parallel worlds; duel narration; still a bit spooked.
October 21, 2013
Surprise!
Until now, I've made a conscious effort not to blog about baby stuff because, frankly, there are a lot of talented people out there who are all over this parenting thing and I don't want to bore readers who can't relate to the baby maelstrom (i.e. most of the people who read my books). But if I'm going to write a post every day for the next few weeks I'll have to break that rule, especially today.
A year ago today, at 8.28pm, after a 36-hour labour, Ms Marmalade was born and our lives changed irrevocably. Some of the changes I expected - lack of sleep, overflowing laundry baskets, days when I didn't make it out of my PJs - but others were a complete surprise to me.
Surprise #1 - sometimes there is NOTHING you can do to soothe a crying baby
You can sing, shush, swaddle and sway all you like but there are days (and nights and mornings and afternoons) when she's just going to wail like a banshee till she's exhausted. On these days noise-cancelling headphones come in handy.
Surprise #2 - babies are not grateful
They don't care that you've only had 3 hours sleep, that this is the fourth poonami nappy you've changed this morning, that breastfeeding while you have mastitis is agony. They do not say thank you or blow you kisses or even smile (unless they happen to fart at the same time). In fact, for the first month they can't even make eye contact, so they appear to be looking straight through you. This can be disheartening.
Surprise #3 - it IS possible to need a nappy change Every. Single. Hour.
Poo, it happens. A lot. Which leads us to...
Surprise #4 - baby poo doesn't stink
Not until they start eating solids, anyway.
Surprise #5 - some babies don't like to sleep
'Wow, she really fights it, doesn't she?' The sleep school nurse sounded admiring of Ms M's ongoing refusal to close her eyes after an hour of rocking, patting and shushing. I felt a bit better that the experts were having no more success getting her to sleep than I was. Ms M is now a champion night sleeper but it took 8 months and two visits to sleep school to get her there.
Surprise #6 - you will never be on time again
No matter how carefully I plan our outings, we are late. Whether there's a nappy blowout just as we're leaving the house, or we get to the bus stop and realise we've forgotten Ms M's water bottle/blanky/emergency snacks, or she decides that today is the day she's going to have a two-hour nap when I've timed our departure around the assumption that she'll be up within an hour like she is every day when we have nothing planned, there is always something that will guarantee we don't make it anywhere on time.
Surprise #7 - getting there is half the fun
For Ms M, the journey is definitely as important as the destination. A walk to the bus stop involves multiple stops to greet dogs, watch big kids ride their bikes, examine any flowers at pram level, watch baby magpies being taught to dig for worms by their mums. Everything is new to her, and most of it is fascinating. Unfortunately this only adds to Surprise #6.
Surprise #7 - you will not only sing, you'll like it
I come from a tone deaf family. I mouthed the words when we had to sing in Music class. I was not a joiner-in in singalongs. So I really didn't expect that I would not only find myself singing The Wheels on the Bus at our local library's Rhyme Time, but that I'd enjoy belting it out and doing the actions, too. The best bit is that Ms M doesn't realise yet how out of tune I am - as long as I hokey pokey with enthusiasm she's happy.
Surprise #8 - it gets better all the time
I know I'm saying this on a sentimental day and that we haven't reached the terrible twos yet, but right now every day brings new skills, new words and new things to smile about.
From this
to this
to this, in just 12 months!
A year ago today, at 8.28pm, after a 36-hour labour, Ms Marmalade was born and our lives changed irrevocably. Some of the changes I expected - lack of sleep, overflowing laundry baskets, days when I didn't make it out of my PJs - but others were a complete surprise to me.
Surprise #1 - sometimes there is NOTHING you can do to soothe a crying baby
You can sing, shush, swaddle and sway all you like but there are days (and nights and mornings and afternoons) when she's just going to wail like a banshee till she's exhausted. On these days noise-cancelling headphones come in handy.
Surprise #2 - babies are not grateful
They don't care that you've only had 3 hours sleep, that this is the fourth poonami nappy you've changed this morning, that breastfeeding while you have mastitis is agony. They do not say thank you or blow you kisses or even smile (unless they happen to fart at the same time). In fact, for the first month they can't even make eye contact, so they appear to be looking straight through you. This can be disheartening.
Surprise #3 - it IS possible to need a nappy change Every. Single. Hour.
Poo, it happens. A lot. Which leads us to...
Surprise #4 - baby poo doesn't stink
Not until they start eating solids, anyway.
Surprise #5 - some babies don't like to sleep
'Wow, she really fights it, doesn't she?' The sleep school nurse sounded admiring of Ms M's ongoing refusal to close her eyes after an hour of rocking, patting and shushing. I felt a bit better that the experts were having no more success getting her to sleep than I was. Ms M is now a champion night sleeper but it took 8 months and two visits to sleep school to get her there.
Surprise #6 - you will never be on time again
No matter how carefully I plan our outings, we are late. Whether there's a nappy blowout just as we're leaving the house, or we get to the bus stop and realise we've forgotten Ms M's water bottle/blanky/emergency snacks, or she decides that today is the day she's going to have a two-hour nap when I've timed our departure around the assumption that she'll be up within an hour like she is every day when we have nothing planned, there is always something that will guarantee we don't make it anywhere on time.
Surprise #7 - getting there is half the fun
For Ms M, the journey is definitely as important as the destination. A walk to the bus stop involves multiple stops to greet dogs, watch big kids ride their bikes, examine any flowers at pram level, watch baby magpies being taught to dig for worms by their mums. Everything is new to her, and most of it is fascinating. Unfortunately this only adds to Surprise #6.
Surprise #7 - you will not only sing, you'll like it
I come from a tone deaf family. I mouthed the words when we had to sing in Music class. I was not a joiner-in in singalongs. So I really didn't expect that I would not only find myself singing The Wheels on the Bus at our local library's Rhyme Time, but that I'd enjoy belting it out and doing the actions, too. The best bit is that Ms M doesn't realise yet how out of tune I am - as long as I hokey pokey with enthusiasm she's happy.
Surprise #8 - it gets better all the time
I know I'm saying this on a sentimental day and that we haven't reached the terrible twos yet, but right now every day brings new skills, new words and new things to smile about.
From this
to this
to this, in just 12 months!
October 20, 2013
Spare time, what's that?
I had a little operation last month. It went well and I feel fine now, thankyouforasking, but the one thing the surgeons told me I Absolutely Really Truly Cannot Do while I'm recuperating is lift anything heavier than 4 kilos. Not-so-little-anymore Ms Marmalade weighs 10 kilos (closer to 11 after a big meal), which has put the kibosh on me getting her in and out of her cot, into her highchair or onto the change table, so for the next month or so we have a nanny coming every day to look after Ms M. Mr Fantapants and Supernanny tag team in the morning and afternoon so that all of Ms M's lifting needs are met. Supernanny spends the day singing and dancing and lifting Ms M and I do my work-work and other baby-related chores like cooking and laundry.
Aside from the fact that I am very sad not to be able to take care of Ms M myself, it really is a very good arrangement. Except that it's left me with something I haven't had for the past year: spare time. And since I've spent the last year longing for a little window in each day that was not spent being a big Mack truck or a little teapot or doing the hokey pokey or trying to make pureed vegetables 'fun', I really feel that I must make the most of it.
I considered doing my own little Nanowrimo but I fear that would be setting myself up for failure, so instead I'm going to commit to writing a post on this blog every day until Supernanny unfurls her parrot-head umbrella and flies into the distance. Or every weekday, at least. Yes.
Aside from the fact that I am very sad not to be able to take care of Ms M myself, it really is a very good arrangement. Except that it's left me with something I haven't had for the past year: spare time. And since I've spent the last year longing for a little window in each day that was not spent being a big Mack truck or a little teapot or doing the hokey pokey or trying to make pureed vegetables 'fun', I really feel that I must make the most of it.
I considered doing my own little Nanowrimo but I fear that would be setting myself up for failure, so instead I'm going to commit to writing a post on this blog every day until Supernanny unfurls her parrot-head umbrella and flies into the distance. Or every weekday, at least. Yes.
July 18, 2013
Baby steps
I knew it had been a long time between posts but I didn't realise it was almost half a year! Half a year since I wrote ANYTHING non-work related. (I returned to my job-job in March, working pretty much whenever I can grab a few minutes.)
I'd feel guilty about it but the truth is that I haven't had the time or energy to write since Little Ms Marmalade joined us. But I think that might be changing. And I think it's definitely related to the fact that LMM started sleeping for more than three hours at a stretch through the night. (Seriously, the effect of getting at least 6 hours' sleep every night cannot be underestimated.)
But now that the urge to write is returning I'm faced with a different dilemma: what to write. I began a new novel over a year ago, while I was in Adelaide on my May Gibbs Children's Literature Foundation fellowship, so of course the part of my brain that is terrified of starting things from scratch is saying, 'Go on, get back to that.' But the part of my brain that knows I'll have about 30 minutes a day to write (if LMM has two decent-length naps and I get my job-job work done first) is shaking its head and telling me I'm setting myself up for failure.
Of course, I know I could find more time in my day if I really wanted to. I hear about it from other authors regularly: those who get up at 5am so they can get a couple of hours' writing in before the kids wake up and/or they go to their full-time job/uni; those who eschew slumping in front of the telly with a glass of wine in the evening for time at their laptops; those who are disciplined enough to take that half hour and make every second count. But that's not me. Not at the moment, anyway. So I'm starting small, with this post.
I'd feel guilty about it but the truth is that I haven't had the time or energy to write since Little Ms Marmalade joined us. But I think that might be changing. And I think it's definitely related to the fact that LMM started sleeping for more than three hours at a stretch through the night. (Seriously, the effect of getting at least 6 hours' sleep every night cannot be underestimated.)
But now that the urge to write is returning I'm faced with a different dilemma: what to write. I began a new novel over a year ago, while I was in Adelaide on my May Gibbs Children's Literature Foundation fellowship, so of course the part of my brain that is terrified of starting things from scratch is saying, 'Go on, get back to that.' But the part of my brain that knows I'll have about 30 minutes a day to write (if LMM has two decent-length naps and I get my job-job work done first) is shaking its head and telling me I'm setting myself up for failure.
Of course, I know I could find more time in my day if I really wanted to. I hear about it from other authors regularly: those who get up at 5am so they can get a couple of hours' writing in before the kids wake up and/or they go to their full-time job/uni; those who eschew slumping in front of the telly with a glass of wine in the evening for time at their laptops; those who are disciplined enough to take that half hour and make every second count. But that's not me. Not at the moment, anyway. So I'm starting small, with this post.
January 31, 2013
Freia Lockhart's Summer of Awful - launch and giveaway
Freia Lockhart's Summer of Awful hits bookstores today! For me, it's been a looong time coming - I started writing the book way back in 2011 and finished the final draft in late April last year, followed by months of editing and proofreading (and a baby in the middle of all that), but finally it's out in the big wide world, itching to be read.
To celebrate, I'm doing a giveaway on Goodreads: three copies to Australian and NZ readers, drawn at random by Goodreads at the end of the month.
There's also a launch in Melbourne hosted by my favourite independent bookstore, The Younger Sun, at 2pm on Sunday 17 February. Come by and raise a glass and a peanut-buttery brownie to FLSoA!
To celebrate, I'm doing a giveaway on Goodreads: three copies to Australian and NZ readers, drawn at random by Goodreads at the end of the month.
There's also a launch in Melbourne hosted by my favourite independent bookstore, The Younger Sun, at 2pm on Sunday 17 February. Come by and raise a glass and a peanut-buttery brownie to FLSoA!
November 26, 2012
Freia Lockhart's Summer of Awful
At last, I have book news to share! Freia Lockhart's Summer of Awful picks up four months after Finding Freia Lockhart left off...
Freia Lockhart has the essentials for an awesome summer:
great new friendsa supremely kissable boyfriendplans for New Year’s Eve (which don’t include her parents)no school.When her mum reveals some devastating news, Freia’s plans for the summer of her dreams are crushed in an instant. Now she’s trying to keep things together at home and salvage her holidays, but it’s not easy when you’ve got secrets to keep, a little brother who’s going off the rails and a gran who won’t keep her nose out of your business.
Freia Lockhart's Summer of Awful will be in stores in February 2013.
