#148: Nerf Duel
Ben suggested I conduct a nerf duel, using historical rules of combat. But historical rules are always either:
a) stuffy (like, I’d need to be a nobleman, which would require quite a bit of lifestyle change).
b) bloody (and it’s REAL hard to draw blood with a nerf gun).
Nevertheless, I got me some guns, some ammo, and the following fierce opponent (here photographed expertly loading his gun):
We lined ourselves up in the square, ready for battle.
And pow! Bang! Arg!
Until the inevitable end.
Not satisfied with having killed the narrator, the deadly gun-toting four year old turned on his Uncle CJ:
Naturally, since I’m now dead I don’t know the outcome of the second duel. I have just one comment – Do you feel lucky? Well, do ya punk?
Look at those deadly eyes!
Coming soon: The reverse burglary victim revealed!
Secret # 6 (hopefully)
Go mad in a lolly shop (Mmmmm)
Eat Yum Cha (Mmmmm)
Three days without any junk food whatsoever (arg, the pain!!)
And a surprise or two
Today’s reverse burglary clue: My burglary did NOT take place on the day I posted it. So if you’ve been thinking, “I was home that day – I know for certain it wasn’t me!” then – guess again.
I know at least three tortured souls have been scouring their homes for candy, so I plan to actually reveal the location of the lollies. . . tomorrow.
In other news, my fish appear absolutely fine thus far, except there is white fuzz growing on the heater (I’ve cleaned it once with a toothbrush and boiling water, and I’ll clean it again) probably as a result of the first plant dying. I plan to buy one of those “I clean your tank” fish, hopefully today.
A time to write
It’s time to make up consistent fake names for my publishers.
Publisher A: I have three direct contacts with them, and so far they’ve let me email them any full manuscript I want (after I email to ask). Since “Farting my ABCs” was rejected, I emailed them asking if they’d like to see it. That was last Thursday, and they haven’t replied yet. Last time I sent them a book (which I received back over a year ago) they hinted that they didn’t have time to continue reading my nearly-but-not-quite-good-enough books. At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what they were saying.
Publisher B: I have two direct contacts with them, and they currently have “Stormhunter” and “The Monster Apprentice” (ie the first books in my YA and childrens’ Rahana trilogies), the first of which they’ve had over a year. I emailed them this today: “I’m just dropping by for my three-monthly check that things are still progressing with “Stormhunter” and/or “The Monster Apprentice”. I hope you’re well and enjoying the great weather.” If they reject those two, they may not be willing to look at any others. If they accept them, they’ll probably accept the four other books in the two trilogies. Exciting stuff.
Publisher C: The one I originally sent “Farting My ABCs”. They generally take six months to reply, but they do generally request the full manuscript.
Publisher D: They generally request the full manuscript.
Publisher E: Has had the first three chapters of “Waking Dead Mountain” for five months – presumably a good sign for the book, and a bad sign for how long I’ll have to wait if they do request the full manuscript.
So, in conclusion: I’m waiting for Publisher A to let me know if they still like me, and for Publisher B to finally tell me if everything is about to change (or not). And waiting for Publisher E, but not holding my breath.
Happy Sunday
To all of you – men, women, mothers, fathers, people of indeterminate or unique gender, and children —
May your Sunday be like this:
S#65: Personal Manifesto
Steff Metal (of the infamously awesome list) wrote:
65. Write a Personal Manifesto
Who are you really? What are you about? What makes you tick? What morals and beliefs do you follow?
Write yourself a personal manifesto – who you are, who you want to be and how you’re gonna get there.
I’ve been looking forward to this entry. Then I saw a post by Donald Miller (http://donmilleris.com/) about seeing your life as a story (rather than a Dilbert-esque mission statement) and, as a storyteller, I LOVED it. So here’s the blurb on the back of the unfolding movie of my life (remember to get breathless as you reach the end):
A burnt-out missionary writes young adult books featuring true heroes – the kind that readers can look up to. She hangs on the edge of major publication for years as her mental illness worsens. Will she achieve her own dreams before her illness swallows her last heroic spark of hope?
(The answer, of course, is yes.)
And in the meantime, I live a heroic life every day, and inspire others through my blog of Daily Awesomeness. And of course I keep writing (I forgot to mention during “Try, try again” that my novels have been rejected sixty-eight times – about twelve of which were by a very narrow margin. A perverse part of me hopes to reach a hundred before I get accepted.)
Play along at home: Write your own storyline with a main character (that’s you), a crucial problem to overcome (what do you want most?), and what’s at stake for you. Think Hollywood, baby! It’s adjective time at last!
If you’re brave enough, post the results here.
Incidentally, happy mothers day to all my lady readers. Goodness knows we all mother our menfolk every day. A special shout-out to my pregnant sister. If your partner hasn’t bought you chocolate (or perhaps pickles and ice cream), he is a cad. Go buy your own.
Oh! Sorry I forgot to give a reverse burglary clue yesterday. Here’s two:
1. My victim was not a student of mine.
2. When I “broke in” I walked through the front door.
#118: Collage of Awesomeness
This is an idea from lovechelsealauren.blogspot.com (thanks Chelsea!)
I’m rubbish at collages (virtual or otherwise) but I quite enjoyed suddenly having a visual representation of some of my best awesome moments from the last little while. So here it is!
The links to the relevant blog entries are:
Vote “yes” for Global Warming
I’m allergic to Winter. Specifically, I’m allergic to clothing. All of it. Wearing sunglasses makes me feel trapped. My very-comfy pajama top is giving me rashes simply by existing near my skin. Socks either fall off my feet or cut off my circulation. And then there’s my cold hands and feet due to poor circulation. And of course bills, which hurt a lot when I don’t even earn enough to cover rent.
So let’s band together and either make the Earth wamer or move Canberra to the tropics. Personally, I don’t mind which. I’m not fussy.
#123: Edit a steampunk novel
Editing a novel is a mammoth task, and as a result it’s very satisfying to get to the end. I was lucky enough to edit a young adult steampunk novel which was well written and entertaining, so it therefore qualifies as today’s Daily Awesomeness. Here’s a steampunkish picture to give you a little hint of the place I’ve visited for so many hours this week:
This picture was taken from http://ageofsteam.wordpress.com.
Oh! And speaking of steampunk, Richard Harland recently wrote a post on how it’s done. http://ripping-ozzie-reads.com/2010/04/30/tips-for-writing-steampunk/
Play along at home: If you’re a writerly type, you can both give and receive helpful editing at sites like this one: http://editorunleashed.com/forum/
Tomorrow: A collage of awesomeness. Secret # 6 is having further issues, so may take another week or two – sorry. It won’t happen overnight, but it will happen.
And now, as always on a Friday, here’s the current twittertale so far:
AND THEN I WOKE UP
5
I woke with my face in concrete. Wet concrete. Not concrete – meat. Meat and blood, and it was in my MOUTH! Yuck! I sat up, spitting.
Then I saw the bodies all around me. No-one else was waking up, like I had. But a few others, like me, had blood dripping down their chins.
Wasn’t I just in maths class? I shook my head, trying not to scream. Hysteria took over, and I said aloud, “Please, not the maths!”
6
I sheltered overnight in an abandoned apartment. The homiest part was the curtains (burnt) but I found an unopened tin of baked beans.
Evidently even apocalypse survivors don’t eat baked beans. Also there was no can opener. I began to understand my own cannibalism.
My body was different, too – not just thinner. With a mirror, I discovered I was now in my twenties. What!?! Did I go to the prom or not?
7
I watched through burnt curtains as a group of people walked slowly down the street. They walked upright, and they weren’t as thin as me.
My belly rumbled, so I broke a two by four off the bed for a weapon, and went downstairs to follow the tall ones.
#132: Try, try again
Awesomeness isn’t awesomeness without a risk. That means that sometimes I’m going to fail – and if I’m brave enough, I’ll fail badly.
Remember when I bought fish? https://shootingthrough.net/2010/04/01/s78-adopt-a-pet/
I mentioned several times after the above entry that I hadn’t killed the fish. It turned out I’d spoken too soon. All but one of those fish died within two weeks. Most of them passed away on one day, and it was torture to watch them all slowly die.
I still feel horrible that my ignorance caused all that, but I decided to overcome the trauma the best way I know how: by giving myself a more positive experience of the fish-keeping experience. CJ suggested that I should blog about it here – he said that overcoming failure was definitely awesome in itself.
The fish died over three weeks ago, and I’ve spent that time learning more about how to care for them better. I now have a heater, a filter, a light, a plant, and four different types of water-treating substance (plus the ph test kit I had last time). One of them, Gandalf the fighting fish, lived.
The plant died horribly, which wasn’t the most heartening event ever (oh, and I also broke the original tank while cleaning it – the second fish tank I’ve broken in this cursed voyage). I had samples of my fish water tested at the Belconnen Markets pet store (which I recommend, having been given consistent advice between Belconnen Markets staff). The water was fine, but they said it’s an oversensitive plant and recommended another type, which I bought. Neon tetras like places to hide, so I also bought a plastic hollow-log-with-holes-in-it in case this plant died too. Here’s the remains of the first plant getting stuck in the filter like green fur:
I decided not to get danios this time – they terrorise the other fish.
So today I finally bought five more neon tetras. I know that they often go into shock and die within a week of purchase, so I have their bag sitting inside the tank (with Gandalf, the fighting fish, nosing at the plastic). Each hour I add one dessert spoon of the tank water to their bag, so they can adjust gradually to their new environment.
I’ll report back and let you know how they go.
Oh! And I almost forgot. Last year I wrote and edited a book called “Farting my ABCs”, with a specific publisher in mind. That publisher just replied with their response to the book (that I sent them more than eight months ago – and it’s only 7000 words long) with a no. That’s unfortunate. But I have a contact at another publisher, so I’ll edit “Farting My ABCs” and send it to them the instant I’m happy with it (which can’t possibly be long, since it’s such a stellar example of my literary prowess).
PS: Today’s clue on who is the victim of reverse burglary – it wasn’t Steff Metal either (she lives in New Zealand). Or, as pointed out in yesterday’s comments, my brother-in-law Nick, who is in Beijing. Although it’s possible that it was my sister, since her husband would make a worthy accomplice.
Strange
Today turned out weird. I’m not sure what to make of it.
“Farting my ABCs” was rejected (darn), but although it was clearly still a form letter, it was a friendlier form letter than the other one (so perhaps that publisher has a range of form letters – that’s a positive sign, while not actually being at all useful). Obviously this is bad news, but I actually find rejections always perk me up. I can edit (fun, especially after an eight-month break) and send it to someone new.
In the same lot of mail I received a kind of prize for “winning” the national Novel Writing Month (ie, I did successfully wrote 50,000 words in a month). Every winner who wanted to could get one properly-printed copy of their book from Create Space. So, although the editing is far from over, I have a shiny physical object with my name and photo on the cover, and my words filling the inside.
I also impulse-bought a fish toy – one of those logs with holes for the fish to swim through – and the fish to go with it. The previous plant died (apparently it’s the nature of that type of plant) so I bought another (allegedly hardier). The log is so my tetras have somewhere to hide if this plant dies, too. Right now they’re acclimatising to my tank – VERY slowly, so they don’t die of shock (I believe that’s what killed Sam and Frodo).
I’m delighted to have more than one fish once more, but also nervous. Since some difficult-to-grab remnants of the previous plant are still drifting about, and Gandalf (the fighting fish) still has odd colouring, I wonder if I’ve doomed five more lives. But all I can do is be super careful of the tetras and hope for the best (Gandalf is definitely stable, and moves around quite happily).
I’m also slightly faint with hunger. When I get tired enough, my vision tends to waver and/or cause brief hallucinations (mistaking a tree for an elephant, etc). Today I saw a sign that said, “We sell boxes” and read it as, “We sell blokes.” Hmm.
I also had a rather weird errand to run – but that’s all part of Secret # 6 and I can’t talk about it for at least twenty-four more hours.
Oh! And the http://twittertales.wordpress.com blog hit a new high in sheer numbers yesterday, and I think it’ll go even higher today.
#142: Reverse Burglary
Today’s awesomeness was sneaky. I broke into the home of a friend and, instead of stealing from them, I added two items to their home.
1) A large stick of hard candy that says, “Your souvenir of Blackpool”.
2) A jar of lollies with my victim’s name as the brand name.
But I hid them.
What is more, I fixed up the house before I left (not that I broke it, exactly), so there’s absolutely no sign of my passing (unless he/she looks in just the right place).
He/she is a person who reads my blog, so who is it?
My mum and dad?
My mum-in-law?
My partner (which would make breaking in somewhat easier)?
W?
Ben, the Master of Sarcasm (who suggested this)?
Ann?
My cousin Jolyon?
My artist friend whose name starts with E?
One of my students (four of them visit this blog, and their initials are LD, SK, CT and PJ)?
Steff Metal?
Each day I’ll give a clue, until YOU OUT THERE find the evidence of my crime and write a comment to say so. (Be advised that it’s possible I had an accomplice.)
Alternatively, you can all scour your entire house from top to bottom, find absolutely nothing, and write a comment to complain that I’ve made you paranoid. It’s all fun from where I’m standing. (Yes, I’m a terrible friend/tutor. I know.)
First clue: It’s not my cousin – he lives in America and I don’t know anyone who lives near him.
Play along at home: Sneak lollies into a friend’s home (if you’re like me, you have enough of a criminal mind to know where they keep their spare key/which window they leave open/their landlord’s trusting nature/which door doesn’t lock properly, etc – otherwise, pay them a visit and commit the crime when they’re out of the room).
Coming soon: Secret # 6 is progressing semi-smoothly. I plan to post the results on either Thursday (yes, tomorrow) or Sunday.
I’ll also (in the next little while) Make a collage, Edit a friend’s novel, and Try, try again.
Felicity Banks 