Companion to Day Twenty-Six: The Trial
5:30am
‘Do we fight now?’ I asked.
Sol said, ‘Anyone got a sword? No? Never mind. Oldy – come.’
We waited in silence, and heard nothing at all.
9:00am
Sol said, ‘They’re all asleep.’
‘A healing sleep,’ Oldy said, ‘which I wish I had time to give you.’
We scoffed pie before we started work.
12:00 midday
We locked the pirates in their filthy cell. Then we stole their cannons, food, and water. And soap. And all their boats. And LOTS of rum.
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Pirates would quite often hole up on an island and chill for a while. Like anyone on holiday, they’d get bored. This is an account of a mock trial Captain Anstis’ crew put on while on land (it is quoted directly from the 1794 book I keep quoting from – “A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pirates” – which he probably had repeated to him from people who were there – assuming he wasn’t one of them himself). There are three characters – the judge, the accused, and the Attorney General (like a prosecutor).
Attorn Gen: [long speech] I hope your Lordship will order the fellow to be hanged.
Judge: Heark’ee me, sirrah, you lousy, pittiful, ill-look’d Dog; what have you to say why you should not be tuck’d up immediately, & set a Sundrying like a Scare-Crow? Are you guilty, or not guilty?
Prisoner: Not guilty, an’t please your Worship.
Judge: Not guilty! say so again, sirrah, and I’ll have you hang’d without any Tryal.
Prisoner: An’t please your Worship’s Honour, my Lord, I am as honest a poor Fellow as ever went between Stem and Stern of a ship, and can hand, reef, steer, and clap two Ends of a Rope together, as well as e’er a He that ever cross’d salt Water; but I was taken by one George Bradley [the name of the “judge”], a notorious Pyrate, a sad Rogue as ever was unhang’d, and he forc’d me, an’t please your Honour.
Judge: Answer me, Sirrah, how will you be Try’d?
Prisoner: By God and my Country.
Judge: [swearing] Why then, Gentlemen of the Jury, I think we have nothing to do but proceed to Judgement.
Attorn Gen: Right, my Lord; for if the Fellow should be suffer’d to speak, he may clear himself, and that’s an Affront to the Court.
Prisoner: Pray, my Lord, I hope your Lordship will consider–
Judge: Consider! How dare you talk of considering? Sirrah, Sirrah, I never consider’d in all my life. I’ll make it Treason to consider.
Prisoner: But, I hope, your Lordship will hear some Reason.
Judge: D’y hear how the Scoundrel prates? What have we to do with Reason? I’d have you know, Raskal, we don’t sit up here to hear Reason; we go according to Law. Is our Dinner ready?
Attn Gen: Yes, my Lord.
Judge: Then, heark-ee, you Raskal at the Bar; hear me, Sirrah, hear me. You must suffer, for three Reasons; first, because it is not fit I should sit here as Judge, and no Body be hang’d; secondly, you must be hang’d, because you have a [swearing] hanging Look: And thirdly, you must be hang’d because I am hungry; for know, Sirrah, that ’tis a Custom, that whenever the Judge’s Dinner is ready before the Tryal is over, the Prisoner is to be hang’d of Course.
There’s Law for you, ye Dog. So take him away Gaoler.
The $5 Shopping Spree
My husband has never been overseas. I spent twelve years preparing to be an overseas aid worker in Indonesia. Thus, one of the first things we planned for married life was a trip to Indonesia – so he can see first-hand what I first saw at the age of ten – that the world is wrong, and that we are obscenely rich.
My husband’s brother is currently in China, so we’ll be dropping by Beijing too.
Since I was getting a bundle of cash for nannying, this was the month to finally book our flights. We have a Sydney-Beijing section, a Beijing-Jakarta section, and a Denpasar-Canberra section. I’ll call them A, B, and C. C had to be paid on the day. B had to be paid within three days, and A had to be paid within the month – not within *a* month; within *the* month. Which made the crucial difference that we had two pay days instead of three to pay for all $3000.
It was looking very close, but plausible (thanks mainly to my $1500 worth of nannying). I’ve been using all my powers of stinginess to stretch our food out as long as possible.
On Sunday I discovered that the nannying people had decided to hold back on $200 of my pay because I hadn’t checked that the girl was taking her medication – and she had effectively gone cold turkey on anti-depressants (which is a VERY bad idea). It was very out of character for her to not take them, and I had seen them on the bench and felt certain all was well – but yes, it’s definitely my fault. I won’t be doing non-family babysitting for at least a year.
In the short term, it also meant a financial crisis. I hastily cobbled together some back-up plans (none of which were likely to get money, but worth a try), gathered up all the spare change I could find (literally) and worked out we’d have a maximum of $25 to live on until Tuesday next week. That’s BEFORE any living expenses (and I think we have a direct debit bill thingy happening tomorrow). Today one of my back-up plans actually came through, and we’ll have about $100 spare. THAT – assuming nothing else goes wrong – is fine.
I just looked in my diary and worked out that we’d have run out of chocolate (yesterday), internet (a crisis on so many levels), petrol (tomorrow), and food (on Saturday). My breakfast and pancake supplies are already gone, so I had two-minute noodles for breakfast today.
So I confess I was a little tense. But I celebrated today’s good news by going on a wild shopping spree – with $5. I bought:
flour (for pancakes)
a mini caramello
a pack of gobstoppers.
All seven food groups are covered – pancakes, chocolate, caramel, colourings, sugar, round-shaped things, and preservatives.
All is well.
(Harper Collins hasn’t replied yet – it’s now over a month since they said they’d take two weeks to reply.)
Smart Arse
I sent the fart book away on Sunday, after getting a final check by my partner (who chuckled several times, and laughed outright at least twice).
The good thing about writing a 7000-word book is that you just send the whole thing (rather than the first three chapters). So that cuts the response time in half. I’ll probably hear back in about March next year.
Yesterday’s school was great. It was the last school I had lined up (it’s possible others are just slow on the uptake, but it’s probably my last school), and definitely the best for me. I think about 15 people have already joined me on twitter since then, and I bet there’ll be more later. I’m perilously close to having 200 followers.
The fart book send-off absolutely lifted my mood, as did that final school (it is absolutely devastating to work hard for no result whatsoever).
And I’m delighted to have ideas percolating for the next twittertale. When I mentioned the basic plot in a class yesterday, they practically cheered. I hesitate to write something that isn’t 100% original in concept, but I think it’ll be hugely entertaining.
Companion to Day Twenty-Five: Writing Tips
7:30pm
I woke slumped against Oldy’s fuzzy beard. Sol was gone. Only our bodies held us up.
Then Sol appeared with her arms full. ‘Anyone thirsty?’
9:50pm
Sol brought us food and life all night. Our guard almost saw her, but she passed magically through the outer wall of the ship until he left.
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I’ve already talked in a bunch of schools about having an interesting (well-developed and contradictory – like a real person) character with a serious problem, and about using as many of the senses as possible to make readers feel involved. Today’s main lesson is the infamous “Show don’t tell”.
Let’s imagine a character is kind, and you want readers to like them for their kindness.
Method 1: Telling – this method is BAD because readers have no reason to believe you.
Bob was very kind.
Method 2: Telling through dialogue – slightly better, but still awful. Readers still feel they’re getting told what to think.
“Hello Bob,” said Bobette. “I wanted to thank you for all your kindness yesterday.”
“Oh, it was nothing,” said Bob.
Method 3: Showing – this inevitably takes more space, but is the only good way for important information (including personal qualities, relationships between characters, and events that are central to your story).
Bob rushed out of his house, running late for work. He saw his neighbour, Bobette, standing on her front lawn looking up at her Chinese Elm. At once he turned from his car and asked her what was wrong.
“It’s my darling kitten,” said Bobette. “She’s stuck.”
Bob carefully reversed his car over to the tree and stood on the roof. “Here, kitty,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.”
The kitten hissed and climbed higher in a panic.
Bob took off his business jacket and hooked one leg over a low branch. Slowly he found more footholds and at last he held the terrified kitten against his chest. It immediately scratched him, tearing his shirt. “Don’t worry, little one,” said Bob. “I know you’re scared.”
He climbed down with one hand, and gave the kitten to Bobette.
“Oh, Bob!” she said. “Thank you! What can I do to repay you!”
“Think nothing of it,” he said, using his shredded shirt to mop up the blood on his aching chest. “She’s such a nice kitten, isn’t she?”
*It’s also worth noting that this scene has the same structure as any story – there’s a problem (kitten in a tree), the character’s efforts should help, but instead make it worse (Bob tries to reach it, but the kitten climbs higher), and the character makes another attempt (climbing himself) which resolves the original problem (now the kitten is safe).
*In a short story, I recommend:
-Have only a few characters, and a reasonably short period of time (this helps stop the story running away into complexity-land). Make sure each character’s name starts with a different letter so it’s easy for your reader to keep track.
-Write about something you know and/or care about. High schoolers know about high school. I often write stories with magic, because I read a lot of fantasy books and I’m interested in the way magic people deal with their powers.
-When you write your first draft – don’t think too hard. Just write! No human being writes a good first draft. The important thing is to write SOMETHING.
Companion to Day Twenty-Four: SMS/Email
10:00am
The sun glinted on something so we sailed for it: a pirate ship.
“Huzzah,” said Sol, “they’ll have food AND treasure.”
They chased us.
[more to come today]
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Hello to Caleb, Brook, Simone and all the other weird and fascinating creatures I met today. If I can squeeze in a broadside, I’ll do it this very day.
Today’s offer: If you’d like to receive the story by email or by text, just ask me at fellissimo[at]hotmail.com (put an @ in where it belongs). It shall be done – but be advised that some posts happen at strange hours of the night.
Companion to Day Twenty-Three: Daylight
1:00pm
We reached land, searched empty houses, and found a child’s skeleton clutching at dirt.
‘Anyone want to leave?’ Sol said.
No-one spoke.
___________________________________
It’s official: the next twittertale will be entitled “Daylight”, set in Canberra – a tale of a pandemic known as EMO, transmitted among young people. Symptoms include pale skin, dark clothes, and the irresistable urge to bite one’s friends and associates in order to suck their blood. Victims also hate daylight, due to the unfortunate fact that it makes them. . . sparkle.
“Daylight” will begin October 3rd (probably), and end on 31 December this year.
Companion to Day Twenty-Two: Soap
8:00am
I showed Sol our hold.
She said, ‘We still have food for – what – two days?’
‘About that,’ I said, ‘and we’re out of soap.’
‘I’d noticed.’
___________________
Pirates often stole soap. Turns out even the biggest ships lack a general store.
A Time to Fart
I know, I know – I promised I wouldn’t touch my fart book for two months.
It’s been one month today, and I plan to attack it wildly this weekend, then get my partner to critique it (I saved him for last – he’s never read it), and probably send it off on Monday.
My excuses are:
1) Half my publishable books are under construction at the moment, and “Farting my ABCs” only needs a quick polish and it can be out in the slushpile where they all belong.
2) A month is SORT OF like two months. . . right?
3) With all the promotional stuff I’m doing, the goal is to get publishers to approach me, saying, “I’ve seen you in the papers and heard about you on the radio. Somebody said you had written a book?” Since Penguin is Australia’s slowest reader, it seems a head start would be handy, so instead of responding, “Yes. Here you go.” I can respond, “Yes. It’s been on your slush pile for six months now, so has probably already passed a few links up the chain. Enjoy!”
Tenuous, I know. Yesterday’s school visit was the most likely to yield twitter-shaped fruit. It didn’t. I still have other avenues and other schools, and the magic of time (I’m running a competition for that school, which will probably get me a few followers eventually), but it was a day of hard work for absolutely no pay of any kind.
Another one.
So today, I’m going to channel my false hopes in a newer, shinier direction.
My nephew
. . . is four.
He and two of his three parents were over here for dinner tonight, and he took out the bag of toys that I keep for him and enjoyed himself.
He found a piece of plastic, about 10cm long, with a 1cm circle at each end, and smuggled it to the dinner table.
There he sat, with one end pressed to his ear. We told him to eat his dinner, and he said (with umbrage): I’m LISTENING to my MUSIC!!!
Companion to Day Twenty-One: Blackbeard’s Beard
5:00am
Oldy sauntered in and helped himself to salty breakfast stew.
‘Didn’t you go with Li?’ I asked.
He shrugged, ‘I came back.’
3:00pm
‘Who stole my boat?’ Sol screamed.
Oldy raised his hand. ‘You’re a fine captain. We won’t need it.’
Sol said, ‘You’ll live – for now.’
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I may have mentioned that Blackbeard really was evil. As usual, I’m taking my best information from the 1724 book “A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pirates”. (I do own other pirate books, they’re just not as cool.)
Blackbeard’s name originated “from that large quantity of hair which, like a frightful meteor, covered his whole face and frightened America more than any comet that has appeared there a long time.
“The beard was black, which he suffered to grow of an extravagant length; as to breadth it came up to his eyes. He was accustomed to twist it with ribbons, in small tails, after the manner of our ramilies [sic] wigs, and turn them about his ears. In time of action, he wore a sling over his shoulders with three brace of pistols hanging in holsters like bandaliers, and stuck lighted matches under his hat, which, appearing on either side of his face, his eyes naturally appearing fierce and wild, made him altogether such a figure, that imagination cannot form an idea of a fury, from hell, to look more frightful. . . his humours and passions were suitable to it.”
So he looked like pure evil, and acted like it, too.
Observant “Pirates of the Carribean” watchers will note than one pirate has a particularly impressive beard, which is smoking throughout the entire movie. It’s clear the costumers read the same book (which is also well known as Robert Louis Stevenson’s inspiration.)
