godlike powers
I woke up happy this morning.
Yesterday’s writing gave me such a high. No other job has ever had that effect – and I’ve always enjoyed my paid work. So, in a shocking twist, I won’t be giving up writing anytime soon.
And here’s a picture of my cat Ana. (Why not?)
S#10: The Royal Bedchamber
I enlisted the help of J. K. Rowling, Robin Hobb, Terry Pratchett and Eoin Coifer (and also a pair of stilts, some pegs, and a tablecloth) in making a canopy for the bed CJ and I share. My plan was to lie down and read until it fell over, but Ana had other ideas.
First, she explored.
Then she destroyed it (which took under 2 seconds – gotta love my craftsmanship), washed herself thoroughly (mocking my craftsmanship as I took a dozen blurry pictures), and settled down.
She was casting thoughtful glances upwards, so I decided to avoid seeing what happened when all seven Harry Potters arrived on her head – and I pulled the tablecloth down. She played dead at first. . .
. . . gave me her patented aggrieved look. . .
. . . and fell asleep.
Not piratical enough for you? How’s this cat (from coolestfamilyever.com)?
In unrelated news, I showered yesterday and shaved one leg. The surprising part is not that I forgot what I was doing until I was out and dry and featuring one alluringly hairy leg – the surprising part is that I haven’t done it before.
If you’re in Canberra, don’t forget to put your corpsepaint on and join the zombie walk this Saturday! I’ll be blogging about it this Sunday.
#Win a prize
One of the writerly blogs I follow is http://ripping-ozzie-reads.com/ Every so often they have a book giveaway, and I generally enter. I won “Diamond Eyes” by A. A. Bell, which arrived this morning signed from one writer to another by Anita (which already makes me like her).
Later this week/year (depending on how my own writing is going – I’ve decided to beat last year’s NaNo novel into shape for a massive UK competition worth $20,000) I’ll write a review and post it up here.
Yay! New book!
I’ve only just read the first few pages, and was hooked by the page one question, “Why bother blindfolding a blind woman?”
It’s incredibly creepy already, and I can tell it’s just going to get worse.
In general life news, I now weigh 80.2 kilos – which means this diet is going better than any diet I’ve done before (other than the shooting abdominal pains, but oh well) – and have one week left until I’m allowed chocolate. The hardest part will be eating moderate amounts of chocolate, so I can continue to lose weight in December, and achieve the 76.5 kilos I need to be in the healthy weight range.
Remember my fabulous treasure trove of gold and diamonds and so on? Here’s how it’s going:
Cost of valuing/ebay so far: $400
Total value of items sold: $80
*sigh* Who knew being rich would be so expensive? I do have an actual plan underway, and should be able to sell at least a couple of items by the end of the year.
I bet Blackbeard didn’t have so much trouble converting his booty to rum.
This picture was taken from iwatchstuff.com. The smoking beard was something Blackbeard actually did in order to terrify his victims. That, plus his general psychosis, rumours of evil supernatural power, and real guns, and– well, let’s just say it all worked.
Things
Hello hello.
This morning I weighed in at 80.2 kilos, so with one week left of my six weeks without chocolate, things are looking good (I’ve lost 6.4 kilos). I’m desperately hungry, lethargic, and faint – but there’s a very good chance I’ll be back in the healthy weight range by the end of the year (yes, despite Christmas).
In the last couple of weeks I’ve received two rejections with comments from two different small publishers. It’s very rare to get comments (from Publisher F especially, who was the first) so that’s both useful and encouraging (without actually being technically useful at all).
Tomorrow marks two months exactly since Publisher B (the one who’s had one of my books for a year, and another for a year and a half) said they’d sent my books to an independent reader. Who knows? They might reply.
Without chocolate, my day-to-day goal has been to simply survive – do my work, pass the hours until another day has gone, and try real hard not to have a psychotic attack (I lost my head twice, and on one of those occasions broke our car door).
I’ve done very little writing, and barely missed it. So I wander down a familiar philosophical path, trying to figure out a way to quit writing once and for all. I think it’s theoretically possible, except what do I have left to get up for? TV can’t keep me awake forever, and I’m not able to do more than three hours of real work in a day.
I’m not the type of person who bases their entire life around a spouse – so that’s not an option either. And I know chocolate doesn’t really satisfy, no matter how much I eat.
So I’ll keep writing. May as well.
I’m about to enter a free competition with a $20,000 prize. It seems pathetic to even bother entering, but maybe I can meditate on the role luck plays in publishing until I think I actually have a shot.
Go team?
#228: Message in a Bottle
Today’s awesomeness was a rollicking adventure featuring real booze and real water.*
I finished off the ginger wine in our cupboard – leaving a few potent-smelling drops for authenticity’s sake. I tested whether it was watertight by sending it to feed the fishes (who enjoyed it very much, thank you).
Then I wrote a note, burned the edges** and soaked it in tea.
The note reads:
I have been marooned by my dastardly companions on this cursed isle, with nothing but sand to eat and nothing but sea to drink. But I have the last laugh!
Gold! It’s mine, all mine! All buried under this very spot.
Should I live, it is by this note, my plea for help cast upon these vile waters. Should I die, it warms my cold pirate heart to know I’ll die rich.
I put the note inside the bottle, and set off.
After accidentally ending up at Lake Ginninderra (having decided to go to Lake Burley Griffin, but cunningly taking a wrong turn), I hurled the bottle into the water and watched it float away.
A person in a nearby building came out and stared at me. I smiled politely and left in as suave a manner as I could, all but whistling to indicate
(a) Me? Littering? Certainly not!
(b) Me? Crazy? Hah! As if! Purple sprocket!
*probably. Scientists haven’t definitively stated what it is that fills Lake Ginninderra.
**and my fingers. And some of the words, if I’m perfectly honest. For extra authenticity, of course.
#227: The Lying Down Game
Ben suggested this (can’t you tell?)
http://www.lyingdowngame.net/
http://knowyourmeme.com/memes/lying-down-game
And here’s a picture from way back in August last year, when the first twittertale came out, and was illustrated by Mel Pearce. Captain Sol plays the lying down game too.
http://shootingthrough.net/2009/09/29/worse-things-happen-at-sea-whole-story/
I have another Benism planned for tomorrow, which I’ve begun preparing. My fingers are burnt in several places, so you know it’ll be good.
“The Captain’s Daughter” so far
1
I curled my toes around the narrow foot-rope, and dug my nails into the knot tying up the sail. No good; I bite my nails too much. On the up side, my teeth are good. I leaned into the wind and pulled at the knot with my teeth. Spitting fibers, I pulled the rope free.
Da’s first mate, Hank, met me on deck. He said, “You’re disgusting, Gail. Biting at ropes like a dog.”
“At least I don’t look like one.”
2
Da called me to his cabin. “Sir?” I said.
He said, “In here, call me Da.”
“Yes Da.”
“You’re old enough now to think of your future.”
“Oh.” My heart sank. I bit my nails, wondering if he’d marry me off.
He cleared his throat: “I want you to be captain after me.”
“What?”
He said, “The men know you – and I won’t live forever.”
I said, “You WILL live forever, Da – I order it.”
He grinned: “Whatever you say.”
3
We neared a familiar port. I held the lead line – mainly so I could sit apart from the rest and wonder if they’d really obey me one day. The cord ran through my hands and stopped. I stared for a second before realising the harbour floor had shifted. “Avast! Turn about!”
My friend Jim was on the wheel, and he pulled hard. The ship wailed as it turned too hard, but we made it safely. Jim, at least, obeyed me.
4
I still wanted to think, so I stayed on board while the rest went to spend their gold or line their pockets with other people’s purses. Da came back with a red-faced and slouching boy who wouldn’t meet my eye. He introduced my brother, Al.
Al said, “I’m gonna be captain.”
“No you ain’t!” I said.
He threw a punch and I threw it back, giving him a nice bloody nose with his own fist. Da sent me to the hold.
5
Da came to me: “I didn’t know about Al until now – and Hank said the men’d be ashamed to let a woman lead them. He knows the crew, Gail.”
I shook my head at him, too furious to speak.
Da said, “It’ll be better this way – you’ll see. We’ll find a place for you.”
Da left, and I fumed. The ship was mine, and no long-lost landlubber kid was going to take it from me. I was NOT going to be married off!
6
A dash of bilgewater poured into my face, waking me. I couldn’t help noticing the ship was heeling badly. Above me, thunder rolled. I watched as rats leapt and scuttled up the walls, leaving the bilgewater and I alone. Hm.
I climbed on top of some crates and held on.
7
The hatch opened and Al peered in, munching on a fresh red apple. My stomach growled.
“Our Da sent me to let you out,” he said. “There’s a big storm happening. I wouldn’t want my baby sister to get hurt.” He closed the hatch, and I heard the lock turn.
“Baby?” I muttered, and followed the rats upward. Da had long since taught me to undo any lock. If he said I was allowed out, I was free.
8
I was tugging on a line with Al when we were all tumbled by a rogue wave. Most of us were smart enough to hold on. Al wasn’t. I let go and dived for my landlubber half-brother, and caught hold of his curly red hair just before he was swept overboard.
When the wave was gone, I let go of Al’s hair and went to tie up the sails. He got up – slowly. We both knew I’d saved his life.
9
Al and I worked and I saw Da nod an apology to me. He’d taught me long ago that sometimes, a captain needs to turn a blind eye. I got that.
We made port at Tin Island – the place Da found me when I was just a kid. The orphanage stood majestically shining on a high hill.
10
Da summoned all hands. “As you are aware, I now know I have two able-bodied children. I intend to leave this ship to one of them. Here is the challenge: Whichever one gains the most gold in the next two weeks will be my heir. Are we agreed?” The crew cheered.
I gave Da a nod of thanks, and he grinned back. All I had to do was get more gold, and the crew’s hearts and minds were mine forever.
11
Da found me in the market and asked me to come with him. We walked all the way up the winding orphanage path, past children working. “Why bring me back to this hole?” I asked.
Da said, “Sometimes, our future is found in the past.”
He left me at the same place Ma dumped me.
My old mistress tried to sell me a “good, hard-working set of twins” and I said I’d think about it. I slipped the kids a few coins and fled.
12
I suddenly realised why Da had reminded me of my past. Rope in hand, I went back up the hill to the orphanage and climbed the back wall. The strongboxes were where I remembered them. Mistress had punished me once by making me count out all the gold coins in one trunk. Mistress’ Dobermans ran to attack, but the mum remembered me. I’d always treated her well.
I took as much gold as I could carry.
13
I presented my haul publicly, and promised the same again. Da hid his smile. I saw cogs turning in the heads of the crew, and knew I’d won.
Al took me aside: “This is a fool’s contest. What say we get rid of the greedy old man and take this ship as ours.”
“No!”
He drew his sword. I grabbed his blade with my hand and kneed him in the groin. He pulled back, splitting my palm, and bashed my head with the hilt. I fell.
14
When I awoke, Hank was there. I blinked: “Why are we in the hold?”
“Because your brother bribed me to kill you while your Da was with him.”
I said, “You like bribes, then?”
Hank smiled and drew his sword.
I said, “Let me go, and I’ll tell you where I got all that gold.”
I went up on deck smiling.
Hank was honorable enough to leave my death for later. I hoped he enjoyed meeting my old mistress’ Doberman.
15
I hadn’t seen Al, and hoped he’d fled to make a different life for himself. But I had a bad feeling, and went to check on Da. I unpicked the lock and flung open the door to my exhausted Da and brother, each bleeding in a dozen places. I yelled my rage and attacked.
Al fled.
Da collapsed, and I ran to him instead of giving chase. “Gail, I’m so sorry – for everything.”
“Shut up,” I said, and bandaged him.
16
There was no sign of Al when we set sail. I privately hoped my old mistress found him.
“Where’s Hank?” Da asked.
I said, “Dog food.”
17
Da surprised me by officially passing across captaincy of his ship to me. The crew cheered – evidently, I was the last to know. I straightened up, accepting my new life. Jim winked, and I wondered if he was being disrespectful. He confused me. That could be an issue.
18
I made Da keep his cabin, but we were both on night watch so it didn’t matter. Not until we finished, and found a corpse locked in there.
Kip was just another member of the crew until I found him stabbed in the captain’s cabin. Who would do something like that?
Our cook ran out of the galley. “Who took my apples? They were for a pie for all of us. Where are they?”
Suddenly I knew: Al was a stowaway.
19
We searched the ship room by room and found another dead body – stabbed in the back. Al was a coward as well as a killer. But it got worse. The crew took Da and I and locked us inside Da’s cabin. “If you can’t protect us, we’ll take Al over you,” they said.
Jim didn’t look at me.
Da and I stood with clenched fists, waiting for Al’s visit. We heard him pass, but he didn’t visit – not even to gloat.
20
Al came to see us: “Will you obey my command?”
“Not a chance,” I said.
Da tried to stand in front of me, so he’d be killed first.
Al left us to stew all day. Someone snuck a dagger under the door, and I hid it under my shirt and hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“Gail?” said Da.
I said, “Mm?”
“Did I mention I was sorry about your brother? From about a day after we met?”
“I had gotten that feeling.”
#71: Learn to spell “unneccessary”
unnecessary
Phew! That was tough, man.
You can tell I had quite a brainstorming session when I began the Daily Awesomeness scheme. This has always bothered me. And now I know the truth: Two ‘n’s, one ‘c’, two ‘s’s.
A reader just submitted a giant and inventive list of awesomenesses. Here’s a few samples of what I’ll be getting into:
Write an unusual Wikipedia article (not trolling, rather a very
legitimate article on some highly obscure specialty of yours)
Take out a Job Ad in Saturday’s paper advertising for something
unusual (Have you seen that one ‘Wanted: someone to travel back in
time and help me hunt dinosaurs. I cannot guarantee your safety, I
have only done this once before’…? something like that.)
Then publish this along with the more unusual/sarcastic responses.
(Possible Ad: ‘Local Start-up seeks Vampire Hunter. Will train, some
decapitation experience preferred but not required’)
Put a note in a Bottle and drop it into Lake Ginninderra
Create a Time Capsule to enlighten future archeologists on the topics
that historians are unlikely to mention in depth (e.g. Reality tv,
Bieber fever, public toilet ettiquette)
Recreate famous Hoax Photos (i.e. ‘the Surgeon’s photograph’ of the
Loch Ness Monster, the Bigfoot photo, that ‘I want to believe’ UFO
photograph) in sarcastic ways (i.e. put googley eyes on the Burley
Griffin Monster, have the local Yowie be wearing a visible Ipod, have
the UFO be a Cookie, etc.)
Make a piece of modern art.
—
And here’s some pictures of the Young Endeavour – my #1 favourite place to research piracy (and yes, I did).
#226: The perfect avocado (and, hooning)
Avocados are a temperamental and capricious fruit.*
Today I opened one, and it was perfect. That happens rarely, my friends, if ever.
In other news, moments ago I found myself pulling up at traffic lights with music on (always) and all my windows down (it was hot). Next to me I heard the unmistakable guffawing of a Group Of Youths – specifically, Young Men. Their car was brimful of testosterone and a bass beat some would describe as “pumpin”. I turned my own music off (theirs was better) and carefully pretended that I hadn’t noticed them. When the lights went green, I raced away with a squeal of brakes and quickly outpaced them!** It was terribly exciting. Thanks to a pair of overlarge sunglasses, to the car door hiding my iconic ankle-length skirt, and to a recent change of hairstyle, there’s no possible way for outsiders to recognise my deviant self.***
The fuzz will never find me, and the Youths will never catch me.
And. . . here’s more Johnny Depp.****
*or are they a vegetable?
**having failed to notice they, unlike me, were turning right.
***except by looking at my car.
****who is not quite as manly as I am right now.
S#15: Fly a Kite
So easy! So magic! Up, up and away!
Also, there were mushrooms. That’s always good.
And ninjas.
Okay, I admit I didn’t see any ninjas, but
(a) That doesn’t mean they weren’t there.
(b) It seems only fair to represent ninjas after all the pirates lately.
Felicity Banks 