Getting Lost

Thought it was about time I updated my blog - didn't realise unitl I logged in that it had actually been so long since I last posted.

The past couple of months have been filled with the usual day job humdrum, a fun trip to London (where I got to meet a wax version of RPatz and failed to recognise Michael Stipe in the flesh at the Tate Gallery until I googled him when I got home and realised yes, he is quite small and old looking now with dark rimmed glasses...)and the biggest event was being bridesmaid at my brother's wedding in Arran and acquiring a sister in law!

More and more I find myself seeking new places, new experiences and new people as I find this then adds to my writing and sparks off half formed ideas...or just helps to take me out of that boring 9-5 frame of mind. Just stepping off the tube in London and going down the escalator to sounds of a really good busker (it's been a while since I've heard a really good busker in a city) wakened up my senses to something new, something different.

I also love being by the sea so staying in Arran for a long weekend of sunshine was so relaxing and it felt like I'd escaped to a little paradise island for a while.

The past week I've been off I've enjoyed getting lost in my own head, getting lost in my writing and music and films and books and I also did some sketching when I was in Perth (church windows are not the easiest of things to draw). I feel lucky to love all those things; to have the ability to evade reality for a while and daydream.

I finished my young adult novel during my week off and am now in the process of going back to the start and doing the edits. I felt a sense of accomplishment finishing it but am also a bit deflated and sad as I'm leaving behind characters who have been wandering around in my head for the last 10 months or so. Maybe by the time I've finished the edits I will be gladly showing them the door...

3 Letter Word Stories

I'd forgotten about this fun little writing task I set myself a couple of years ago. Amazing what stories you can create by just using 3 letter words. Off to try some 4 letter word, 5 letter word stories now...Please leave your efforts in the comments section for fun:)





THE FAT CAT

The cat ate the mat and the man got mad; all day his cat ate and ate; he'd fed him too but the cat was fat and the man did ask for the vet but the vet got mad and the man got sad and let the cat eat his new mat and the cat ate the kid who had bit his paw and the cat ate the kid who had hit the dog….the man got too sad; his cat was too bad and not fun and not rad. The bad cat who ate the mat.




SAM ZEN


Sam Zen was the man, the sex god. Sam was fly and the guy got the eye all day.


"Hey Sam!" Lou was the hot gal Sam had the eye for but Sam was too fly for the one gal. Ten, yes. Not one.


"Hey Man! Dig the car!" Joe let Sam buy his rad car. Why? Sam did not ask. But Joe too had the eye for Sam. Joe was gay. All day Joe saw Sam act the man, sip his gin...Hah! And Joe was gay?


Sam was all set for the day; had his pot, had his gin, his new car, his gun. The sun was hot. The day was top dog.


Sam got out his car. Got out his gun and hit the tin can off 'Hit Row.' Sam let rip. Bam. Bam. Bam! One tin can...two...Sam hit low. Sam hit his toe. Doh! Not fly. Dim guy!


"Wah!" Sam let out. "Ahh!"


His gal, Sal saw Sam sob. Man, Sam was wet.


"Shh! Sit!" Sal got the toe, got her pin out the kit and got the tin can lid..."Sip the gin, Sam."


Sam had his gin and had his pot. "AHH!"

Sal cut his toe. Sal was mad you see. Saw Sam and 'shy' Val...Sam and Eve...Sam and Jen...Jan....He'd lie. Sam was sly - say he'd one gal - her. Hah. Now who was the dim one!

"Sal! The toe!...the toe! You cut the toe off...you cow!"


Sal got one tin can for the toe. She saw Sam sob and cry.


"But why Sal? Why?"


"Bye Sam Zen," She set off.

His toe Sal cut off she now got out the tin can and had for her tea. Ham, pea and toe. Yum! The end for Sam Zen and his big toe.






FAT BOY AND OLD MAN BUD

Fat Boy met his pal Old Man Bud and sat all day and saw the sun set low. The sun was red. The sky was red. Fat Boy ate his pie and Old Man Bud lit his fag. The air was hot. The air was tar.

Old Man Bud let out the bee; he’d got the bee out the jar he’d got out his car. Fat Boy saw the bee fly and fly and Old Man Bud let out: Say, Fat Boy. Gee, see the bee fly…It’s got big too…how can the bee fly? And not dip and die? Fat Boy, how… why?

Fat Boy saw Old Man Bud get sad; saw him nod; saw him sob – now he’d cry.

Now you…Fat Boy met his eye. See the sun. You are old, yes, but you are the bee. You are the joy. You are the wit…not the old git not yet, not for now.

Old Man Bud saw the sky ask him: Why cry? Yes, you die. But not now. For now you fly. For now, you are the bee.

Old Man Bud saw the joy... He’d not rot yet. Fat Boy saw him run; saw him jig; saw him rap, saw him tap. His pal – Old Man Bud.



Pat Woo and The Sun



One day Pat Woo saw the sun dip and tip out the sky.
”Wow! See the sun!”

Pat Woo saw the sun run and Pat ran too. The sun set off for the day. One sun ray hit the ill cow. Pat saw the cow fly – set out for the sky.

“Moo! Pat Woo! The cow can fly!”

Pat Woo saw the sun run and dip. Its ray hit the old rat. The old rat was lit. The rat got fit – saw the sky; his old eye now new. The rat saw the sun; saw Pat Woo.

“Pat Woo! The rat can see!”

One ray hit the cod. Pat Woo saw its fin dip; saw the cod nod and the cod got out the sea net.

“Pat Woo! The cod will not die!”
”Hot sun you are ace.” Pat Woo had joy for the sun.

The sun had fun. Pat Woo did too – the day Pat Woo saw the sun dip and tip out the sky.

Dangerous Deceit

It's not every day I get to write about the release of my own mother's Debut Novel!!
Above is a picture of said novel; 'Dangerous Deceit' by Romy Gemmell, which is a Regency Romance set in England. It's available now on e-book through the publshers Champagne Books: http://champagnebooks.com

and on Amazon Kindle. The print version should be out in a couple of months.

This is a blurb about the book:
Lydia Hetherington is uninterested in society balls or marriage, until her brother's friend, Lord Marcus Sheldon, rides into her life to unseat her from her horse and unsettle her heart. An undercover spy for the government, Sheldon is equally unsettled by Lydia.
Complicated by a French spy, her best friend's unrequited love for Lydia's brother, James, and a traitorous villain, Lydia gradually finds her emotions stirred by Lord Sheldon. But what is his relationship with the beautiful Lady Smythe and his part in an old scandal? Lydia faces danger before all deception is uncovered and love claims its reward.

I'm very excited and proud to be able to talk of my Mum's success as it is much deserved! Getting caught up in all of the excitement of the release of a debut novel is making me realise how satisfying (but exhausting) the whole experience can be. 'Romy' has put in a lot of hard work and perserverance in order for the book to be completed and accepted for publication and the hard work continues with the promotion! I think my Mum would agree though that it's all worth it?!
She's an inspiration to all writers who are sitting with half written (or completed books) which are festering away on a computer/in a drawer (ahem). Nothing will ever come of it if you don't get on and get the stuff out there! (I'm lecturing myself here).

Today is the cyber launch of Dangerous Deceit so get on over to Romy's Regency Romance blog to join in all the fun!!
www.romygemmell.blogspot.com


Raising a glass of champagne to my Mum!!

The Thing Called Love

I joined up to Lovefilm the other week in the hope that I can catch up on all of the films I keep missing at the cinema (and ones that I never got round to watching throughout the years). One film that has been on my list of ‘must sees’ for about 17 years now (hasn’t taken me long then to get around to actually watching it) is ‘The Thing Called Love’ and seeing as I use this blog to talk a lot about Pop Culture I’m going to indulge my inner teenager and revisit a little River Phoenix fascination, who was one of the most captivating pop culture icons of my generation (in my opinion).

Any River Phoenix fan will know that ‘The Thing Called Love’ was his last completed film before he died (in 1993 for anyone not in the know) and it was with interest that I watched it now, all these years later. I have to admit in all of his later films I tend to look out for signs that he was doing drugs, which probably sounds morbid. I’m no drugs expert – I’ve never touched any, and have never had any desire to, but I’ve been around people who have taken them so I’m talking from experience of being a bystander. I remember working with a guy who was very ‘cute’ and fresh faced. I knew he dabbled in ‘soft drugs’ but after about a year of knowing him I realised from overhead conversations on nights out that he’d started dabbling in cocaine and for me it was soon written all over his face. It was a very subtle transformation but his features ‘hardened’ and his expression had a subtle shadow of darkness that aged his youthful glow. Cocaine users might tell me that I’m talking rubbish but it’s an image that stayed with me.

I remember seeing stills of Phoenix in the press from the set of ‘The Thing Called Love’ and I found them unsettling as he had a really dark look about him (and it wasn’t just because he had dyed his hair darker for the role) This was maybe why I avoided watching it at the time (I was about 13/14 when the film came out). Watching it now I definitely think he looks older than his 23 years, which is weird for such a previous ‘fresh faced’ actor who usually passed for a lot younger than his actual age.

In the film his face has a sort of hollow look about it but then the character he plays is dark and broody and Phoenix was well known for immersing himself completely in his roles so maybe he just successfully ‘transformed’ into the character. His haunting vulnerability still shines through the arrogance of the character, particularly in the scene where he confesses to Miranda (Samantha Mathis’ character) that he wanted to call her but was too scared.

The thing that also struck me about him in this film is how completely at home he looks when he’s singing and playing the guitar and it’s interesting when reading about his life that many people talk about how music was his true passion (he played in a band called Aleka’s Attic and had started touring with them seriously in his early 20s). Watching him sing country songs also draws inevitable comparisons to his brother, Joaquin’s, role as Johnny Cash in 'Walk the Line'. It makes me wonder if Joaquin accepted the role of Cash as an ode to River’s part in this film--River plays a fictional country singer, not Johnny Cash--- (I have to say that Joaquin pulls off the whole moody and broody thing with much more intensity).

River has mesmerising contradictions about him in this film as there is something
very feminine about some of his characteristics and features one minute, then in the next scene he will be completely masculine and arrogant. There have been many speculations about Phoenix’s sexuality (particularly as he apparently did some method acting in order to get into his role of a gay hustler in My Own Private Idaho) and it wouldn’t surprise me if he broke many a male and female’s heart. There appears to be so many aspects of each gender in his energy that I wouldn’t be surprised if he was bi (and possibly made any guy who met him suspect the same about themselves!).

I recently watched some interviews with him on Youtube in the run up to the 1989 Oscars when he was nominated for a supporting actor Oscar for his role as Danny in ‘Running on Empty’ (great film that no one else I know seems to have watched – go and watch it!). There is some great YouTube footage where he is at a press conference standing in a wooly jumper (the kind your gran would knit you) and just looks like a fish out of water; totally unassuming, awkward and...normal. A million miles away from the slick robotic Zac Effrons of today.

Even on the red carpet on the walk into the Oscars he has jaw length bleached blonde hair which just looks so 90s grunge and cool. And Martha Plimpton, his girlfriend of the time, is larking around behind him sporting what looks like a semi skin-head hairdo and some white ensemble that could easily pass for a nightdress. This made me nostalgic for times when actors like that were our role models (ok, so Phoenix overdosing on drugs was not a good role model example) but here were 2 young people turning up at a massive Oscars ceremony in LA looking like...2 young people having a good time and not giving a sh** about what the establishment thought. Another clip I watched of him walking up the red carpet to a film premiere, dressed in a green t-shirt and again sporting long bleached blonde hair, made him look more of a grunge musician than an actor.

He genuinely came across as not caring about any of the fame that came with his acting – maybe because moving into acting was never his conscious choice? Everything written about him suggests that it was his parents, particularly his mother, who pushed him down the road of acting and once ‘there’ he felt pressurised to keep going in order to support the family with his wages.

There’s a lot of speculation about his death, suspicions, accusations and conspiracy theories. I stumbled across some really mind bending conspiracy theories where some people reckon River was subjected to mind control experimentation during his time in the Children of God Cult when he was a kid and that he had started to remember things people didn’t want to get talked about in the press so someone spiked him with a toxic cocktail of drugs.

Weirdly enough there are even wackier conspiracy theories about Kurt Cobain being subjected to mind control experiments also when he spent time in his mum’s mental institution when he was a kid. And the article then draws further connections to Gus Van Sant being part of some underground establishment mind control experimentation (it talks about his film My Own Private Idaho being based on Cobain’s life -before his fame-as Cobain was apparently a gay hustler and had narcolepsy. And Narcolepsy apparently is a symptom of being subjected to mind control experiments in infancy and so on).....I find the theories fascinating, though I don’t buy into them, but in my earlier blog entry titled ‘Cult’ I had jokingly wondered if the connections between said people (and I threw Michael Stipe into the mix) does have some sinister undertone... Matt Damon is mentioned in one of the conspiracers article so if he dies any time soon under suspicious circumstances maybe we should start taking note...

I really don’t think there is any mystery about River’s death that night. He was heavily into the music scene where he was probably living a bit of a rock and roll lifestyle and at the same time struggling with the perfect poster boy image the media was projecting into the public realm. It’s possible to be passionate about the environment, be a vegan and care about important issues, and be a sweet person, as well as being into hard drugs. There’s quotes where he himself talked about how anyone can be an addict (not just your stereotypical bum on the street) and how he wished he wasn’t ‘so conscious’.

It’s reported on the night he died that he voluntarily took a ‘speed ball’ containing fatal levels of a bad mix of drugs. Other reports say there was a spate of people getting ‘spiked’ in the club that night with bad drugs. I don’t believe that night was the first time he dabbled. I reckon he was just unlucky and to me it’s just an example of the Russian roulette you play if you’re going to take heavy drugs.

His mother reckons he made a deal with God to stay on the earth for only 23 years. It’s reported that she said she was in labour with him for over 3 days and she had the feeling that he really didn’t want to be born and she imagined he was bargaining with God saying ok, I’ll come down for a little while, 5 years....etc. until they reached a number they agreed on. She saw him as being some ‘missionary’ to deliver some important message to the world. What an expectation to live up to.

I reckon whatever message he might have wanted to deliver came out a little distorted... as anyone’s would when the media is taking control of your words. But ultimately for me he brought a refreshing naive honesty into ‘Hollywood’ films and a uniqueness that has yet to be matched on screen. I was at a party on Saturday night and got talking to a female around my age and she told me she remembered the week he died because one of her friends was found curled up on the floor outside their class unable to speak. She said such was her grief that they thought a family member had died. An extreme example of the spell he cast upon his fans...

But go and watch his films and I defy you to remain untouched.

Writing

Last weekend I attended the annual Scottish Association of Writers conference. I'm a postal member of Erskine Writers so it's always nice to meet up in person with the group at the conference. Our group did very well - getting about 12 mentions in competitions and I'm pleased to group myself in amongst those mentions as I won the T.C Farries Trophy for the first part of my new young adult novel. This win means so much to me because I've been excited about this book right from the minute the idea started to unfold in my mind and it's so great to know that someone else sees some potential in it. I am now frantically trying to get it finished so that I can start sending it out. The photo above shows all of the first prize winners of the weekend (I'm the second person in the front row). I felt like I was at a press conference when this photo was getting taken as I kid you not there must have been about 20 cameras flashing in our faces!

The weekend came at just the right time for me as I was badly needing an escape into a world away from my day job and some time out just to completely switch off that part of my life and focus on writing, writing, writing. I was very touched by the encouragement and support from not only my own writing group (especially my Mum who I am lucky enough to have as a writing buddy in the same group) but other groups and I know that I will have a lot of people on my case if I don't get this novel finished!

Jane Wenham-Jones was one of the key speakers at the weekend. She was hilarious and also spoke a lot of important key truths. I attended her workshop and she made us shout out things which we feel stop us writing. A lot of valid reasons popped up - work commitments (that was mine), family commitments and so on. She gave validation to these points but basically told us that what really stops us writing is fear and lack of confidence. And I have to agree. I am nearly 20,000 words into my novel and am having flashes of doubt at every new chapter. Is it interesting enough? Are my characters engaging enough? Where the hell am I going with this...and so on...but I've not lost that excitement I had with the first page and that is keeping my faith alive in what I am writing.

It was lovely to win the T.C Farries; it's fantastic when someone tells you that you write well, that they love your idea, but what we all really need as writers is total belief in ourselves and our writing - this is what is going to get you through those last 60,000 words (or 100,000, depending what type of novel you're writing) And I am already thinking ahead here...that faith is what is going to allow you stand up in front of people and sell your stuff!!

Stylish Blogger Award

Thanks to Rosemary over at http://www.ros-readingandwriting.blogspot.com/
for awarding me the Stylish Blogger Award. Through accepting this award I now have to tell you 7 things about myself and pass the award on to other blogs I like. So, here firstly are my 7 things:

1. I was the Dux of my Primary School and was also in line to be Dux of my High School but due to my point blank refusal to do Higher Maths was taken out of the running. This makes me sound like some sort of super intelligent swot but in fact I was in a very small Primary School at the time which focused heavily on English and Art (subjects I loved).

2. I worked for 3 and a half years in Cafe Cosmo at the Glasgow Film Theatre during my student days. I really wish I’d kept a proper journal of my experiences here as I met so many interesting characters-both staff and customers. Some of us were convinced that the cinema was haunted. Some Ushers in cinema 1 said that when they sat down at the end of an empty row they could feel the row move as if someone sat beside them and felt weird sensations of coldness. In the bar a lot of us had experiences where we heard our name being called (this happened to me on several occasions and I also sometimes felt a sensation of someone brushing past me). A male customer approached me one evening and asked me if the bar was haunted and then proceeded to tell me that he was ‘sensitive’ to these things and that I wasn’t to think he was crazy but he had heard a female calling his name and thought it was me at first but then realised I didn’t know his name. He told me that he thought the ‘ghost’ was called Amy and had died very young. Spoooooky! During my time here I also met some famous people (some of whom I didn’t recognise until someone pointed out who they were. I served Peter Mullan beer for about a month before I realised who he was – I thought he was a tramp). I served Gary Lightbody from Snow Patrol before they hit the big time (I was a fan from the very beginning so knew who he was as soon as he walked in the door) ...I was too shy to let on I knew who he was. He complained about the price of our Hagaan Daz ice cream.

3. I started writing when I was about 7. I used to staple bits of paper together to make ‘books’ which I illustrated. In primary 7 I had an unhealthy addiction to Sweet Valley High Books and wrote my own series of Sweet Dreams books in lined jotters, which again were illustrated and probably shockingly Americanised. I typed up my first proper ‘novel’ when I was about 12 called ‘Rhea the Rollerskater’ and sent it off to some poor unsuspecting publisher who responded with a very kind rejection. The rejections unfortunately are still rolling in 18 years later but I like to think my writing has improved slightly!

4. I had a fear of dolls when I was a child (and a very overactive imagination which resulted in my Mum having to remove several dolls and weird looking pictures from my bedroom when I was a wee girl!).

5. I have a Degree in Communications and Mass Media (I used to want to be a film director) and a Postgraduate Diploma in Careers Guidance (I now work full time as a careers adviser). For my 4th year dissertation for my Media Degree I wrote about the films of John Hughes, relating it to Youth Culture. It was shocking. There is nothing intelligent that you can say about Pretty In Pink, Sixteen Candles or Ferris Bueller.

6. I got my tonsils removed when I was 22. A truly happy graduation present as they caused me so much grief during my last year of Uni. They told me I would only get home the next day if I ate my lunch successfully. The nurse forgot to give me my painkillers but I still shovelled down all the cauliflower cheese so determined was I to get out of there!

7. When I was younger I had a bit of a spooky resemblance to the child in Thomas Cooper Gotch’s Painting ‘The Child Enthroned’.

And here are the blogs I'd like to give Stylish Awards to:

http://romygemmell.blogspot.com

http://workinprogressjnb.blogspot.com/
* Apologies for rubbish links - I'll need to see why it doesn't hyperlink properly when I try to insert them in my blog!

Embrace your dark side...

I went to see Black Swan the other week, an exquisite performance from Natalie Portman and lots of psychological weirdness from director Darren Aronofsky (no surprise there if you have ever seen his films The Foutain, Pi, Requiem for a Dream... ). Portman’s character, Nina, is desperate to be chosen for the lead role(s) in Swan Lake, a desperation which practically oozes through her every pore. You can understand the sleazy art director’s reluctance to grant her the lead – how will this innocent and meek 'White Swan' make the transition into the wicked Black Swan? And so begins the intense and increasingly unhinged emergence of the White Swan’s dark ‘alternative’. From the beginning Nina is being chased by her ‘dark side’ and it eventually takes over her body and her mind, pulling her into a downward spiral of obsession for perfection.

The film brought home how all-consuming ballet could potentially become to young woman. They must at some point experience that desperate need to be the best, knowing they have a window of opportunity in their youth, and some of them must be tempted to hurl themselves through it head first into a crazy world of torturous contortions and pirouettes....and crazy body shapes. Natalie Portman had the body of a 12 year old in the film.

I found it interesting that Nina was technically brilliant, a perfectionist but so rigid with it; calculating every move that inhibited the real ‘wow’ factor that finally emerged when she let herself go (she let herself go a tad too much, her character didn’t do things by half).

I think it’s the same for any art form... if an artist is too conscious of where their brush stroke should lie, if they practiced every shape and line until it appeared absolutely perfect to look at I think it would convey flatness, like the deepest thing they poured into it was a vibrant hue.

As a writer it’s easy to sometimes get too bogged down in constructing a perfect sentence – as soon as you think about constructing that perfect sentence then you just know that it isn’t going to be natural or free. There is a big element of having to let yourself go in writing, to tap into some unconscious part of your brain that doesn’t censor. You’re told to think of your audience if trying to write a story or novel for a certain market. But if you start to think too much about your audience then you start to think about all the people in your life who might read this and what they will make of it...

Some of the pieces of writing that I’ve been happiest with are ones where I let go, tap into a different (darker?) side of my personality. Although of course it shouldn't be 'me' at all as I’m getting into the minds of my characters and it’s weird how they can begin to take over...like I have many ‘alternatives’ just waiting to come alive on paper. And if that makes me sound a little nuts then I’m sure I’m in good company!

I wonder if Natalie Portman is going to wake up one day in a years time, look at her baby and partner and think to herself...who the hell are they and how did I get here? (you do have to wonder what that gruelling dance/diet/filming schedule, awards buzz and pregnancy hormones must have done/be doing to her mindset just now...)