Why I owe Johnny Depp a favour
This is an email I sent to my sister very very late at night on the third Saturday in September, 2007 (cut for length/sense/name-changing, but otherwise untouched):
What red-blooded man could resist?
Gettin Religious on ya
Becoming mentally ill is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me – single-handedly killing my independence, many relationships, and sucking away my ability to feel happiness even when things are going well – but it’s also the best. Being mentally ill stopped me moving permanently to Indonesia as a volunteer aid worker. I think that’s wonderful.
But.
I hold to the theory that God often uses sickness to either slow down his humans or communicate something we’re particularly thick at grasping. This is definitely one of those times – becoming mentally ill was, I think, the equivalent of six-foot neon lights in the heavens spelling out, “YOU ARE NOT CALLED TO INDONESIA. DO NOT GO.”
Which is great, since I think I mostly wanted to go to prove myself “worthwhile” (who me? Issues?) But it’s also kind of. . . rude. I was willing to lay down my life – literally if necessary – and God said NO?!? Doesn’t he want my help?
Yep, contrariness. I know. But it hurts all the same. It also hurts that I’ve GOT the no-go message by now but I’m still suffering. I feel like God’s useless cousin – he doesn’t hate me, but I don’t help him in any way, so he just leaves me miserably sitting in the corner.
A few days ago my husband and I were reading the Bible (but no! but yes!) and he blithely read (from John chapter nine, NIV):
As [Jesus] went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”
“Neither the man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.”
———-
This exploded inside my head.
Blindness then was similar to mental illness now – it’s socially disastrous, and leaves you completely dependent on others. This guy was blind from birth – that’s a long time and a lot of suffering. But Jesus clearly states here that it’s no-one’s fault, and that there IS a purpose after all.
In this context, the guy is healed and there’s a furore (the blind guy is deeply sarcastic and the chapter is very funny) and a great Bible story as a result. I suspect I’ll never truly recover from my illness (we’ll see!) but the idea of illness/suffering serving a purpose for God is enough for me to feel less ashamed.
Dunno what the purpose of my ongoing illness IS, and I certainly wouldn’t have chosen this life for myself, but I was willing to risk getting martyred for God, so this is nothin’.
Helping package food for refugees after an earthquake
Free Short Stories
I already have a group of people who receive free short stories between 50 and 1000 words on the first day of the month. If you’d like to be part of the list (called “Felicitations” after my adult-writing name, Felicity Bloomfield), then email fellissimo[at]hotmail.com with “Felicitations Please” in the subject line.
NOTE: the list is NOT child-safe. If you want only G/PG stories, make sure you say so in the initial email.
Here’s a free sample (G-rated):
NAKED MAN IN THE BUSHES [a true story that happened to my friend]
There’s not much to do in Canberra.
I walked home from Belconnen Interchange on a Wednesday night. It was ten o’clock, so there were no more buses. Drunk men were everywhere, and they all seemed to be stalking their ex-wives. They talked to contacts on mobiles. ‘Yes, she’s going toward Ginninderra Drive now. See if you can head her off.’
My concern rose significantly when I noticed an adult male crouching in bushes by the roadside. He was nude.
I kept my eyes forward and debated whether or not I should call someone. Unable to remember the number for the naked stalker hotline, I walked by on the other side of the road. A second naked man burst from a tree immediately in front of me and sprinted to the traffic island splitting Belconnen Way.
‘Marco!’ he yelled.
‘Polo!’ came the reply.
[This story was published in the “Short and Twisted” anthology 2007 by Celapene Press]
Slice and Dice
Cut myself for the second time on the evil coathanger of death (the ‘slice’ of the title).
The ‘dice’ roll of my media progress seems to be going well. It’s all about reaching a tipping point of momentum where people tell their friends, who tell their friends. Definitely not there yet – but the story hasn’t started.
The primary mania period for my twitter tale obsession is long gone – I cried crazily at a family get-together on Friday, and slept about twenty hours on Saturday. Generally I’m doing really well.
I try not to think about how slender my chances at success are – I am literally attempting to make myself famous. It’s not a dignified process
Pirate How-To Guide
Can you believe the pirate flashmob is happening THIS Saturday? (FYI: At Lyneham shops outside Tillies and the second-hand bookshop, 2:00-2:30pm. Free family event.)
My father-in-law was just panicking over lunch about what he was going to wear (not a conversation we have every day).
I will be bringing a stack of home-made eyepatches, so if you’re desperate – don’t worry. Just show up and find me (175cm with long brown hair and an ankle-length red or green skirt with black-and-white striped socks, plus a black corset with bare shoulders and a lacy green wrap). I will be there from around 1:00pm with a handful of my most faithful minions.
Otherwise, my personal recommendations include:
-bandanna (made out of almost any square of material).
-hat (can be made from any soft black rimmed hat by pinning the rim to the crown in three places – it makes a 3-cornered hat).
-Almost any very very old clothes
-fake scars/beard (mascara makes the best beard – trust me I know).
-anything with a pirate logo on.
-plastic cutlasses and other piratical supplies can be found at almost any toy or costume shop (eg “The Funny Shop”).
I’ll add (and accept) more suggestions as we go!
___________________________________________________
Speaking of which, here be some more blogs for ye:
NOTE: as far as I know, these are G-rated blogs. But I don’t know much, so enter at your own risk. This lot is mostly agents and publishers.
http://michellegeorge.wordpress.com/
This is someone I know in the real world. She’s just as interesting here as there.
http://blog.nathanbransford.com/
an agent, bravely using his real (presumably) name online. VERY good articles for writers.
http://writerjenn.livejournal.com/
http://internspills.blogspot.com/2009/07/notes-on-spiritual-memoirs.html#comment-form
VERY funny
http://editorialanonymous.blogspot.com/
http://bookendslitagency.blogspot.com/
http://jetreidliterary.blogspot.com/
Mawwiage
Today is exactly six months into my marriage. Time for a post I’ve been preparing a long time (and, before you all panic, there will be no sex data here).
I predicted:
Me getting annoyed at my partner’s casual messiness (we housesat together for two weeks about a year into our relationship, which turned out to be one of the best things we ever did – it was a hideous experience!)
Me getting slightly saner (thanks to stability of home, finances, and housemate), beginning at about six months (because getting married is stressful).
Fights and tears.
What actually happened:
Early on: I slept about eleven hours a night for two months. Marriage is a big life thingy, so it wasn’t all that surprising. What did surprise me was the sudden drop in my IQ. I’m just thinking about him all the time. That’s just how it works. (I hope I get my IQ back one day, but I doubt it’ll happen.)
I also freaked out (screaming, jumping, horror) a lot when I was naked and A MAN walked in. (I only jump a little nowadays. There’s a process. . .)
I’m still not used to sharing a bed, but I’m more used to sharing a bed with him than have a bed to myself (having a bed to myself just feels wrong).
It’s a lot harder to lose weight. I think that’s because I’m now living in (and enjoying) the present, rather than only preparing for some vague future time when I’ll start living.
Future plans: Two kids and a house – not for about three-five years respectively. We’re on a pretty similar wavelength (or so it seems at the moment).
Fights: We haven’t fought since we married. He annoys me plenty, but it’s obvious even to my addled mind that he’s doing a lot of great things for me, many of which don’t come naturally to him (like tidying his stuff up as he goes along, and making his lunch instead of buying it). Also I think I’ve become adept at not pushing him too far all at once. (I like fast thrilling change. He likes nothing to ever change.)
Money: Fundamentally, he earns the money and I manage it. He loves insurance and guarantees; I like savings. Neither of us has expensive habits. We’ve eaten out just twice since we married (excluding times we were invited to social occasions). I hate the fact that he is literally my carer – financially and psychologically – but he’s clearly not suffering, and I’m clearly improving, so I can more or less live with it (since I have no choice anyway).
Expectations: I tell him what I need – and he does it. I also tell him what I want (making the difference clear) and he does almost all of that too.
He asks almost nothing – but he doesn’t need to, because I figure it out – and I do it. I’ve seen a lot of relationships in this pattern, and the girl always feels bad for asking so much – but it’s evident by the way the guy is floating along that she’s giving as much as she gets (and often more). I have to keep reminding myself of that. Luckily for me, his happiness is clear.
Chores: Since Chris earns most of the money, I do about two-thirds of the housework, including rubbish, washing, shopping, and periodic jobs like dusting. He fixes stuff. One of us cooks (we’re similarly skilled) and one washes up each night, and on weekends I hoover and he does the bathroom. I also have a “microcosm” system so that he still has the habits of independent looking after his own household (which he’s never done) – there are certain food items that only he eats, so he has to notice when they’re running out and write them on the shopping list (or he goes without for a bit). Also the study is all his – I don’t vacuum there, take out the rubbish from there, take out plates from there, or do any kind of cleaning whatsoever. So my partner has to notice all by himself if the rubbish is overflowing or something’s growing in an old coffee mug. If I drop dead, he’ll already have the habits of looking after himself without being told. If he drops dead, I get life insurance 🙂 So we’re all set. (This is one of those things we’ve talked about.)
Best part: -Cuddling up at night. Cuddling in front of TV pretty much every day (my perfect date).
-Pride in our savings – I’ve never had savings before.
-Herbs. I’d never bought herbs (or spices) before – food was for survival, not experimentation. Now we have cinnamon, nutmeg, coriander, cumin, tumeric, fennel, basil, thyme, mint and chives. Rosemary and sage are on the shopping list. I am enjoying my attempts to figure out what flavours go best with what foods (so far I like baked real-potato chips with thyme – I’ve also never had a functioning oven of my own – and lamb chops are great fried with garlic, ginger and fennel)
Worst part: -The SO has a lot of around-the-house habits I find startling (and annoying).
-Finances are really stressful – I still can’t believe how much insurance (house, cars, health, etc) costs. The SO and I have very different money experiences and habits.
On Wednesday both he and I went to the dentist with toothache. It had occurred to me that it was terrifically bad luck for both of us to need a dentist trip at the same time. As it turned out, both of us were only suffering from referred flu pain. And I ended up with another excellent example of how different we are.
My dental trip cost $95
His dental trip cost $240
My philosophy is, “Great, now they’ve checked the painful area I know I’m fine – I can skip my five-yearly checkup.” His is, “Better get another x-ray, a full checkup and a clean – since I’m here.” (And then he feels vaguely guilty for not doing the same thing every six months.)
Since I’d expected nasty bills, this was okay – just. And I’m sure my partner consciously chose not to bug me about how I should have gotten a proper checkup.
Changes: The SO is tidier, better at remembering what he’s going to do, and doesn’t make impulse purchases any more – unless it’s books, which are always worth buying.
I am calmer. One day I endeavour to become messier as my OCD fades 🙂
I have started singing again around the house – I hadn’t realised I’d stopped, but I noticed when I started again. And I knew it was because of him.
Us - six months ago.
Interview with the main character
The narrator of the twitter tale is Ulandin (chosen as narrator mainly because his name is the longest). He will be telling the story in first person (“I. . . “)
Keep in mind that both Ulandin and “Louise Curtis” are technically fictional – Louise is MOSTLY me, but nicer. And a bit dumber (arguably).
Louise is a writer, so she has a cat. This cat has clearly heard one too many discussions of grammar.
This interview takes place in real time, just before “Tar” happens. “Tar” isn’t required reading. Nor is this – it’s not a story, just a bit of story flotsam.
Interview with Ulandin, by the author (sort of):
It was a hot day, and everyone seemed to have passed out under the scattered trees. The heat was so thick I swam dreamily along the road, unable to walk quickly.
I found Ulandin under a tree (naturally), fixing a broken oar. He was only sixteen or so, but carried himself as if he was much older. I got the feeling that if he’d seen me coming he’d have hidden – he had the look of someone trying to be invisible. That impression vanished the instant he raised his eyes – striking golden eyes in a brown face.
Louise: Good afternoon.
Ulandin: Ma’am.
Louise: How long have you been working for Master Hinfar?
Ulandin: Since Mum died.
Louise: How old were you then?
Ulandin: Dunno. Don’t remember it.
Louise: So you’re a slave?
Ulandin: Figured that out yourself, did you?
Louise: Are you okay? Are you fed well?
Ulandin: Enough to work.
Louise: How would you describe your life?
Ulandin: Rather not.
Louise: Can I. . . er. . . bribe you or something?
Ulandin: Do you have a boat?
Louise: Um. . . no. I was thinking of food, or money. That kind of thing.
Ulandin: You know what a slave with money is?
Louise: What?
Ulandin: A thief. Then dead.
Louise: Oh. Never mind. But then why did you want a boat?
Ulandin: To be free.
Louise: Oh. I’m so sorry. Is there anyone who can help you – buy your freedom, or something?
Ulandin: Not on this island. Master Hinfar owns everyone, one way or another. Except. . . no. No-one.
Louise: Except who?
Ulandin: The girl who landed on the beach yesterday. She’s not from here. No-one knows where she’s from. Pretty, though – all big eyes and ringlets. But maybe the big eyes were because she was starving – another hour and she’d have died.
Louise: Where is she?
Ulandin: Master Hinfar took her away.
Louise: Will he make her a slave?
Ulandin: I don’t think he can. I don’t think anyone can.
Miss Piggy you fiend!
Pretty sure my husband and I both have swine flu. It’s pretty bad, but kinda fun being part of a pandemic. I’m almost completely over it – just a faint lingering headache, and a feeling like a bruise right on my left cheekbone. Plus I feel like I have toothache – so much so that I had a dentist check it out. The husband is just getting started, so we’re actually giving him medication (just to be different).
Warning: if you get swine flu, don’t bother going to the dentist.
For those still panicking – don’t. It’s just another flu – if you’re 100 years old with emphysema, or you’re pregnant, you should be concerned. Otherwise, don’t be.
Today I received my fifth manuscript recommendation from a professional assessor (for the fart book). That’s five different assessors and five different books. Yay me.
Now all I need is a market. Which is where twitter comes in. I’ve just discovered that if people go to
http://twitter.com/Louise_Curtis_ (include the underline at the end – I can’t seem to work the cut and paste properly) and press the big green ‘join’ button, I automatically get followed. Excellent!
Join me, my pretties. . . It’s crucial I get lots of followers.
Lots of followers
= media event
=marketability
=publication (Harper Collins is replying to my book early next month! Will they say yes? Will twitter make all the difference? Follow me on twitter and find out!)
Felicity/Louise Curtis
Parental Advisory
This entry is all about child safety.
The first thing to remember is that my “Louise Curtis” pen-name will never write above a PG rating (generally for piratical violence, or it’d be a G rating throughout).
It should also be noted that I am a Christian and one of my characters is faintly based on Jesus (is there any more interesting person in history?) My first priority is to write an excellent story, but if you’re sensitive to religious themes it’s best you know one of the characters may be offensive to you – on a more subtle level than Aslan in the Narnia books.
“Felicity Bloomfield” writes for adults, and doesn’t hold back on topics. For an example, download “Tar”, a short story available at:
http://drolleriepress.com/needles-bones/
This is NOT NOT suitable for children.
I recommend the twittertale for age 10 and up.
Flashmob safety:
The flashmob is an open-invite event, so don’t assume everyone in a pirate person is well-meaning. There will be free (non-nut) lollies, but the peope I know and trust will be carrying my signature. If you email me in advance, I will send you a picture of it (and answer any other questions you have). My email address is fellissimo @ hotmail. com (no spaces).
If you are looking for me at the flashmob (eg for a copy of my signature so you know who to take lollies from), this is what I’ll be wearing:
Long black gloves, black corset, green lacy wrap (bare shoulders), full-length skirt in either dark green or dark red.
I’m also 175cm with long brown hair, so I’m pretty easy to spot (although when I show up I’ll have a baggy jumper over all but the skirt).
And while we’re here, here’s some more blogs I’ve been linking to:
WARNING: Blogs are the property of their writers and might not be G-rated. Most of them look okay to me (with the exception noted), and are rather good because they’re all written by writers.
http://thewriterssideofthelookingglass.blogspot.com/
Charleevale.blogspot.com
http://paigeofabook.blogspot.com/
warning: the above is a crime blog, and is often upsetting.
http://jannettejohnson.blogspot.com
http://straightfromhel.blogspot.com
(‘Hel’ is an abbreviation for ‘Helen’)
http://www.jmstrother.com/tiki-view_blog_post.php?blogId=1&postId=237
GREAT for brand-new twitter users.
http://editorunleashed.com/2009/01/15/twitter-tips-for-writers-25-good-follows/
GREAT for people (especially writers) who need help sorting out who to follow on twitter.
