Companion to Day Thirty-Three: Storms part 1
3:30pm
Rain poured until my clothes were rough as rocks. We sailed, but we couldn’t see. Sol made us stay on watch – staring into the stormy dark.
—————————————————
Keeping watch at night is boring, but at least there are stars.
Unless it’s cloudy.
Then you see sky (grey), water (darker grey), lack of land (grey) and lack of other ships (also grey).
This is why pirates become good storytellers.
What Will Change
. . . when I’m published. (Nope, haven’t heard from Harper Collins yet.)
Novel publication definitely counts as a major life change.
If you imagine working full-time for a charity that has absolutely no-one willing to accept their soup/clothes/etc, then that gives you some idea of what it’s like to be a beginning writer. (Particularly if you were hired with the clause that you would PROBABLY, EVENTUALLY be paid half minimum wage on a semi-regular basis.)
Like all life changes, there will be new stresses – what if no-one buys the book? What if everyone who does hates it? What if THIS book is great but all the others are rubbish? How can I concentrate now everything’s changed?
I LOVE new stresses. The joy of moving furniture. . . into a NEW HOUSE. The insomnia of learning to sleep. . . WITH SOMEONE BESIDE ME. The pressure of writing. . . WITH AN AUDIENCE.
But you can certainly expect some whining. It’ll just be HAPPY whining.
Over a period of several months, I will grow to accept a new meaning, purpose, and sense of self-esteem in life. I’m aware dignity and self-esteem are meant to be intrinsic, but the fact is that when our work is valued, our psyche responds (and vice versa). So I predict a general improvement in emotional well-being, and probably an increase in self-control (eg eating habits) as a result.
My marriage has been a process of shifting my focus from some hazy (but bright) future into a clear (and shining) present. I suspect publication will be like that too.
Best of all, since I’ll actually be paid for my work (a little), I will personally downgrade my mental illness to “eccentricity”. Because everyone’s a LITTLE mental, and it’s just a matter of how bad it is. Once you get paid for your weirdness (or, in my case, the inability to do work other than writing), the bug becomes a feature.
So I’ll be differently nervous, generally happier, and sane.
I guess that IS a bit different.
Companion to Day Thirty-Two: Sea Princess
Sol and I practised swordfighting, and I noticed her hands were soft.
‘A princess ain’t much,’ she growled at me, ‘just a slave in a dress.’
———————————
Personally, I’d rather be myself than a princess. Would you?
Companion to Day Thirty-One: World Part 1
12:30pm
‘Why are all the islands here so black?’ Sol grumbled.
Oldy said, ‘When we take over an island, what will we do with it?’
‘Anything I want.’
————————————————–
When I was eighteen, I lived in Indonesia for six months. I spent most of my time in a concreted house where the weather was almost constant. After two months, I knew that if I felt hot it was 31 degrees, and if I felt cold (which only ever happened at night) it was 26 degrees.
If I ever went outdoors, I drank two glasses of water before I left and two glasses of water when I came back – or I’d get a headache. I’d also stumble and feel faint when I was outdoors, because the sun really is like a constant dragging weight.
I LOVED it.
Here in Canberra it is the last day of Winter. In MY fantasy world, Rahana, there is no Winter – the whole world is tropical. Which means it’s either hot and sunny, or hot and rainy.
Rahana is based on Indonesia, so the people (including Sol, despite my twitter picture of her) are dark-skinned with black hair. There are thousands of islands, many of them unpopulated.
The island with the skeleton was an island that had one bad crop and starved to death due to lack of trade with other islands.
Random fact: Singapore is an island nation that, although incredibly wealthy, doesn’t have enough water to survive. This makes Singapore very tightly bound to Malaysia, where most of their water comes from.
My pet artist
My friend Mel is an excellent artist, so in a moment of brilliance I asked her to draw me pictures to go with “Worse Things Happen at Sea”. She didn’t just say yes, she got all excited – and she did beautiful work. I have eight pictures, some of which haven’t happened yet in the story – but you can see the first five pictures with the relevent bits of story at: http://twittertales.wordpress.com
I now have 250 twitter followers (a solid start, especially considering it’s only been a month), and have another two interviews coming up soon. And one more school to visit.
Here’s the teaser for the next twittertale (3 October-31 December):
“DAYLIGHT”
A horrifying tale of the EMO pandemic sweeping Australia’s capital, and the brave few who fight to find a cure (or, failing that, an efficient program of extermination).
Companion to Day Thirty: Pictures!!
6:00am
I could still see the smoke as we sailed away. At least we hadn’t killed any kids.
Sol was content, even when Mal burnt our dinner to ashes.
4:00pm
‘If you’re following me, does that mean you’ll help me – if things get bad?’ ‘Yes,’ said Oldy. After that talk, I was able to get to sleep.
—————————————————
The excellent Mel has illustrated some parts of “Worse Things Happen at Sea”. Here’s the pictures designed for the story so far, with the relevent tweets (to view them in context, go to Day Twenty-Seven: Story so Far).
Mel’s deviant art page:
http://veleven.deviantart.com/
Sun. Pain. I cracked open my eyes and saw land. "We're saved! Right? SOL!?". . . I passed out.
A beggar took pity on me and gave us his crusts to gnaw. ‘I’m called Oldy,’ he said.
‘It’s a ship,’ I said at first light, ‘so do we meet them - or do we run?’
I saw Oldy steal the boat.
'Anyone thirsty?' Sol brought us food and life all night.
Good news. . . there are at least three more pretty pictures to come.
Companion to Day Twenty-Nine: Sol’s Secrets
7:00am
No crew returned. Sol said, ‘We’re it? A princess, a beggar and a slave?’
I said, ‘Princess? Who’s a –you?!’
‘NO!’ she said. ‘I– shut up.’
Midday
One man turned up. ‘Hello Mal,’ said Sol. ‘Where’s everyone?’
He shrugged.
‘Fine,’ she said, ‘let’s burn this place and find a better one.’
7:00pm
Sol saw kids in a corner and had me take them outside. Once they were safe, we burned their home too.
The night sky turned grey with smoke.
——————————————————–
Yep, our mad teenage captain grew up as a princess. No wonder she ran away from home.
If you go here http://drolleriepress.com/needles-bones/ you can download the FREE prequel, “Tar”, which tells you a lot more about Sol and Ulandin, before they decided to become pirates. BUT there is MATURE UNPLEASANT CONTENT so please don’t read it if you’re sensitive to that kind of thing. (Oh, and Sol called herself “Salty” back then.)
Also, the anthology “Needles and Bones” has the story “At Sea”, which is set about sixteen years after “Worse Things Happen at Sea” (and also calls Sol “Salty”). It’s certainly not the LAST story with Sol in, but if you’re hungry for more it’s a good place to start. It also has MATURE UNPLEASANT CONTENT (which is why both stories are released under my “Felicity Bloomfield” persona – Louise Curtis is strictly G or PG-rated). It’s 15% off at the moment, so now’s a good time to buy it.
Sol's ship (kindly modelled by the Young Endeavour - which I have sailed on)
Companion to Day Twenty-Nine: Landsickness
7:00am
I saw girls playing on a beach as we drew close. ‘Let’s attack some other island,’ I said hastily. ‘People with kids never have much loot.’
8:00am
Sol politely traded a silver necklace for anchorage. She ordered our remaining crew to be good – no stealing, no killing – not yet.
3:00pm
I bought new clothes! Ones with no holes! And I bought myself a bright yellow hat, so I look nautical.
If only the ground would stop moving.
—————————————————-
When I travelled on the Young Endeavour tall ship, we dropped by Napier as representatives of the Australian Navy (which is hilarious to anyone who’s met me).
One of the weirdest experiences was walking on land again. It was incredibly disorienting after having adjusted to the constant movement of the ship. I swear the grass was bulging in and out under my feet.
Ellen Degeneres made me cry
Okay, first of all, a confession: I sometimes watch the Ellen show.
So I was watching Ellen today, and she showed a clip of something associated with awards for “Milk”.
The person accepting the award said, “to all those gay and lesbian people who’ve been told by their church, their family, their state that they’re wrong, I want you to know, God DOES love you. . .”
So I cried – so delighted that it had been said, and so sad that it still needs to be said.
Fifty Grams: Report
Today is day 50 of my fifty-day candy-moderation plan. The rule was that I could eat only fifty grams of chocolate a day (or 100grams of other lollies). I have just one mentos left and I’ll have eaten my full quota for today (give it 30 seconds). More importantly, I have a significant pile of lollies and chocolate in my drawer ready for tomorrow (I’ll have about ten days off to go nuts, then I’ll embark on a slightly stricter fifty days).
Overall I’d call it a success – despite a rather stressful couple of months, I’ve lost a kilo and a half. (Instead of, say, gaining five kilos.) I have a higher enjoyment level with a smaller amount of candy, and I’m out of the habit of the major daily binge (200-300grams).
I still binged – I just binged on pancakes and Weight Watchers chocolate milk instead of real chocolate and lollies (which is why I didn’t lost 5 kilos, as I originally hoped). So I’ll restrict those things next fifty days, and try and binge on fruit and nuts instead.
The theory is that slow change can be maintained. That theory has been supported by the evidence.
