Gavin Whyte's Blog, page 20

This Writer is Happy

In 2012 I wrote a small fable (less than 9000 words in length) called The Girl with the Green-Tinted Hair. I made it available as a paperback, audiobook, and as a free ebook on Amazon.

I’ve just checked Amazon to see what the reviews were like.

Wow!

You guys, my readers, I am so humbled and grateful to see such amazing reviews. I was smiling from ear to ear with disbelief.

As a writer, you spend so much time in your own world, creating other worlds that you alone can see. But you write to provide a window to those worlds – or even better, a door –  so others may enter. It’s such a magical thing to know that what you write, alone in your bedroom (or wherever), people from all over the world are being affected by it in ways you never dreamt of.

Without wanting to come across as conceited, I wanted to include several of the reviews here.

“The book has a wonderful story. It’s an easy read. I’ll use it in my class for a book project.” By RD

“This little book is amazing, taking us through spring, summer, autumn and winter, with so many lessons for the heart and soul to learn.” By bookworm4978

“I don’t know why I chose this book, I was simply looking for a good read, perhaps it was the intriguing title, perhaps it simply chose me. I’m just so pleased I did so, because today it was just what I was looking for and found, or did it find me?” By Sandra Spragg

“What a lovely story. A must read, once, twice, and more times over again. Good to touch the hearts of all ages.” By Nicole Mares

“This is a sweet short story. Strong sense of spirituality (oneness, nature, childlike innocence, unconditional love) without being remotely dogmatic. You’ll probably know where the story is going pretty quickly, but, it may still bring a few tears. It touches the heart.” By Melissa Chapman

“This book has fit into my dreams. It’s strange the older I get the more I reflect on my journey through life. This book is beautifully written and gave my dreams words.” By Elizabeth Sudela

“This book should have been written when I was going through puberty. I’m glad that it has been written for all young adults to discover. Trust yourself and read this wonderful folk tale.” By Lilli Jo

Again, thank you. This writer is happy

Huashan at Dusk (A Poem)

A Corgi with a tale,

Tipped white like a fox;

A Pug with a face,

Like a pair of old socks;

Pisces fish,

Drawn in detail on a wall;

A child dressed as a rabbit,

Its one eye sees all;

Babies in pushchairs,

The first star of the night;

All watched over,

By a half-moon so bright.

*

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Reservation (A Poem)

When times get tough,

It’s this I like to remind myself of.

When I feel low,

When that cloud hangs overhead,

Blocking out the light that always shines,

It’s this I like to remind myself of.

When I feel like quitting,

On a dream,

That never dreams of quitting on me,

It’s this I like to remind myself of.

When I want to be alone,

With nobody around to remind me,

That I’m not being the best version of myself,

It’s this I like to remind myself of.

When I know there’s love,

And it’s painful because I can’t feel it,

It’s this I like to remind myself of.

When it’s like I’m walking through treacle,

With every step a soul-destroying effort,

It’s this I like to remind myself of.

When the sun shines and the birds sing,

And I feel blind and deaf,

It’s this I like to remind myself of.

I like to remind myself,

That I,

And I only,

Choose to be here;

That I made the call,

To the family I was born into,

To learn from them,

Regardless of how tough the lesson.

It was I who made the Reservation

And nobody else.

That’s what I like to remind myself of.

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A Lifetime Concluded (100-Word Flash Non-Fiction)

You looked out of your bedroom window, and saw him on the pavement.

You couldn’t stop staring, a lifetime concluded. You knew instinctively he was dead.

Nobody collapses into a heap like that, with their neck against the wall at such a cruel angle, and their legs folded as if empty of muscle and bone; nobody goes that shade of grey if the heart is still employed; nobody falls like that unless the silver thread has been detached.

The puppet master, the artist, had collected her things and left.

You were told not to stare, but you couldn’t help it.

*

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Conversation (A Poem)

A Conversation that wants to go somewhere,

That has a personality,

And a sense of adventure.

A Conversation that has a purpose,

But it’s okay not knowing it,

Just as long as it’s moving on.

A Conversation that’s in it for the ride,

That doesn’t sell its soul,

By rushing to the finish line.

A Conversation whose soul intention,

Is the expression of something soulful,

And so doesn’t believe in smalltalk.

A Conversation that can be picked up,

After a year or more of silence,

Has unabashed depth.

A Conversation that gets to the heart,

Of a pressing matter,

So close that it dances to its rhythm.

A Conversation that recovers itself,

With ease, and isn’t concerned,

With its demise.

A Conversation that aims for truth,

Even if it concludes,

That truth is beyond itself.

A Conversation that is an art form,

That must be cherished,

To be saved.

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Alien (A Poem)

You’re an alien,

But you don’t feel like one,

Nor are you lonely.

On the contrary,

You feel safe in your alienation;

Safe to be yourself,

Safe to smile at faces unknown,

Safe on the streets where you roam,

Whether deserted or busy.

The parks, too,

Whether under the sun or moon,

You can whistle to a tune,

Without anxious looks,

Over your shoulder.

Yes, they stare,

But there’s kindness there,

Or glares of curiosity.

Unlike home,

Where smiling is rare,

And you simply wouldn’t offer a stranger your care,

For fear of being alienated,

Among aliens.

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If Only (A Poem)

If only,

It could have been,

Just you and I,

And Dickens.

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If Only…

If only,

It could have been,

Just you and I,

And Dickens.

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Paws for Thought (400-Word Flash Fiction… for those animals of ours)

I shook off the coating of snow from my shoulders, and blew into my red hands.

The hotel lobby was pleasantly warm and dimly lit. I couldn’t ignore the smell of dogs. It wasn’t pungent, just strangely out of place.

“Room for one, sir?”

I looked down to see a Border Collie.

“Excuse me?”

“Room for one?”

“Erm… yes.”

“Follow me. Cold out, isn’t it.”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

I followed the Collie to the front desk, where a Pug was sitting. It was chewing on a snack like bubble gum.

“This gentleman would like a single room.”

“How many nights?” said the Pug, not looking at all pleased.

“Just the one,” I said.

“Not out for the New Year?” said the Pug.

“Not this year. Excuse me, I don’t mean to be rude, but how come this place is run by, well – dogs?”

“Because it’s New Year’s Eve,” said the Pug, bluntly.

“Yes,” said the Collie, “every year we run this place. We don’t get many of your kind, so don’t be alarmed if folk show their teeth.”

“Before you sign,” said the Pug, “are you bothered about having a view?”

“I guess it’d be nice to see the fireworks,” I said.

The slimy chew fell from its mouth, onto the desk.

“Then I’m afraid you’re not welcome here.”

“What she’s trying to say,” added the Collie, “is that all the windows are blacked out.”

“Blacked out?”

“Yes, and soundproofed.”

“Why do you think we’re here?” said the Pug, scooping up the snack with her tongue. “Fireworks, can’t stand’em. Do you want to stay or not?”

“I guess so. Do the rooms have TVs?”

“Yes,” said the Pug. “They’re set to reruns of The Dog Whisperer. Now, sign here. You’re on the fourth floor.”

I signed.

The Collie showed me to the elevator. When the doors pinged open, a Golden Retriever was waiting, tail wagging.

“Floor, sir?”

“Four,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Enjoy your stay,” said the Collie, as the elevator doors shut, “and a happy new year.”

“I don’t suppose I could order some food, later, could I?” I asked the Golden Retriever.

“Of course you can. Just ring 1-2-3 when you’re ready.”

Later, in my room, I did just that. On the receiving end I heard nothing but chewing.

“Pug, is that you?”

“Nope. Not me.”

The line went dead.

It was going to be a long night.

Happy new year, everyone! Remember to think of your pets as we’re celebrating another loop around the sun. 

Please feel free to share this story with any of your dog/animal-loving friends, and by all means leave a comment.

All the best for 2018. May you smile more than you frown

Paw Prints (photo share)

We visited a market yesterday, in New Taipei City, and saw these wonderful prints in the pavement