Tuesday 7 December 2010

Jax lost in the Christmas rush


News Flash

@ the inception of chaos - Jax is missing in action somewhere in the Australian outback.

Authorities have planned search and rescue operations but they do not hold much hope of finding her before Christmas.

Family and Friends turn to trusted author TBell with hope.

TBell must break their hearts, she anticipates not having the time to find Jax until the new year.

Friends have no choice but to wait anxiously for the New Year.


Have a very Merry Christmas
 and a very Happy New Year everyone.

See you all again in January.

Sunday 14 November 2010

MondayMadLibs - Nov 15

Ahh it's Monday again and MadLib's is upon us.

Before we start, I thought we'd get to know each other a little better. There are many things about me 'to know but the first thing I will share is the things that are short in my life.My height for one is short, my patience for another. My will power is often short lived as is my attention span. My fingernails are short and the shortness of my skirts catch many an eye. I am short on time and more often than not short of coin. My grammar falls short of the mark as does my maths, the time spent on housework is kept short and I specialise is baking shortbread.Do you get the picture?

Good, now that is out of the way I wont feel so bad in saying, today will be a shorty, which suits me just fine.

Today's MadLib will blossom from Kate Grenville's 'The Writing Book' exercise 1.9 - Use the first sentence from a piece of writing you like for your opening line.

The writing I like this morning is Nicholas Sparks 'The Notebook'. The line is -

'Who am I? And how, I wonder, will this story end?'

I particularly feel this line, the opening line of the novel, suits Jax down to a tea.

***

'Who am I? And how, I wonder, will this story end?'
'I beg your pardon?'
_________ Jax looked up from her _______ in the ________. The sun blazed behind Frank's head, throwing his _____ up the embankment making him appear like a _______. Jax stifled her giggle, Franks face was a________but the tone of his voice _______. 'Sorry.' Jax mumbled.

'What do you you mean, who am I?' Frank hoisted her up under her arms and marched her across the sand. The mouth of the crude hut Triton had fashioned under the palm trees yawned at them. Crossing the threshold Frank sat her firmly on a mat of palm fronds and paced back a forward in the small space. The walls of the hut barely stood a metre tall and the highest point of the roof pitch was only inches above Jax's head so Frank had to __________. Jax stifled another laugh, he looked like a __________. The _______of Knotted Palms! Jax cheeks burst and her laughter spluttered out in hysterical fits. Frank froze on the spot. His face went the same shade of purple as the dead corpse that lay under the sand a few hundred feet into the rain forest. That thought pulled Jax up short. 'Sorry.' she mumbled again.

Frank took a calming breath and started pacing, a sure sign he wanted to tell her something of importance but couldn't figure out how. Jax waited. Frank paced. This went on for sometime. Jax soon got bored and
 started fidgeting. She picked at the quick on her nail. It tore away from her chewed fingernail with a hot painful sting. '____!' She sucked madly on her finger as Frank stopped short again.
'Don't use that language Jax. It's not ladylike.'
'Oh what, and strangling a double agent with my _________ is?'

Frank sighed. 'I know how you must be feeling. It's not nice the things we have to do...'
'That's an understatement!'
'Okay, you're angry. I get that. This is not what you signed up for. I get that too,' he squatted bedside her and took her face in his hands, 'I'm sorry it has come to this.'
'Hrumph' Jax turned her head away, shrugging him off. The funny  had left the dingy hut and depression waltzed back in. Jax tried to shut out the gloomy, sad cloud but it swallowed her whole.
'Now is not the time to give up.' He pulled her face back forcing her to meet his eye, 'the story is not nearly over.'
'You don't get it Frank.'Jax pushed him away and stood up, 'it's pointless. I will never find my father!'

'Your father?'
'Yes! That's why I joined your stupid little mission impossible. I don't care about politics, I'm 17 for Pete's sake! What do I care who runs the country, they're all ego maniac _________ anyway. I just wanted to find my dad. I have searched this country high and low, I have double checked your stupid list of Agents, I have rescued half of them, lost  some of them, seen two of them killed and now I have killed one! And not a damn one fits my mum's description!'

'Your mum told you what he looked like?' Frank paled at her attack and stepped back.
'What? No she didn't tell me what he looked like, if she had this would be a whole lot easier wouldn't it?'
The colour drained back into Franks' face, 'What did she tell you then?'
'Nothing! That's the problem. All I know is he was a Agent working for a top secret government agency in the early 90's. He met her in the city in 92, they fell in love, she fell pregnant and he ran like hell.'
'Oh right. And now you're looking for him?'
'Duh!'Jax rolled her eyes.
'Well then,' Frank cleared his throat and relaxed, 'I can assure you, none of the men on that list were in the city in 92.'
'Then who the fuck am I?'
***


Once again we will be exploring the character Jax from my WIP @jax #theinceptionofchaos


*first draft
**jax excerpts may or may not appear in chronological order and may or may not make the final cut.


copyright 2010, TBell

Friday 12 November 2010

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #181 for Nov 12th, 2010

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #181 for Nov 12th, 2010


Utilise the T.S.O.D (Traveling Shovel Of Death) – a NaNoWriMo tradition. The rules are simple. In your story, kill someone. With a shovel.

Once again we will be exploring the character Jax from current WIP @jax #theinceptionofchaos

*first draft
**jax excerpts may or may not appear in chronological order and may or may not make the final cut.

***
Simo stood up and brushed herself down, looking around suspiciously.
'What's up?'
Simo lifted her head and smiled, 'Nothing.’ she said over brightly.
Jax watched her fidget for a while, 'You never did tell me how you came to find me out here.'
Simo laughed and avoided looking at her, 'Are we back on that again?'

Just then Jax heard the rumble of a car. She let it drop. No cars had passed out here for days, the road in was too treacherous. The ride Jax was counting on was more of the propeller variety. She grabbed Simo's arm and pulled her under the tree but Simo pulled free and ran towards the noise, her arms waving frantically.
'Simo' Jax cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted but Simo didn't listen.
Shit, shit, shit. She searched the ground for a weapon, whoever it was way out here in the middle of the northern outback was not on a friendly sightseeing tour.

Trying not to stray too far from the tree's cover Jax scoured the ground, the only thing that could be of any use was an old shovel leaning stoutly against the trunk. Rusted and splintered Jax couldn't remember it being there earlier, or how it came to be leaning against a tree in the dessert anyway, but she didn't have time to ponder. A dusty Troop carrier came into sight and Jax realised Simo had climbed into the troop tray.
Shit, shit, shit. She looked at her transmitter and noticed a second red light blinking.

She sent a silent prayer to her mother, or whoever might be listening, then picked up the shovel and stepped behind the tree. She didn't have time to wait for Triton's rescue. The Troop carrier skidded to a halt a few metres away and Simo jumped out. Her eyes were wide and terrified, which could have something to do with the crazy eyed Thug pressing a rifle into her back.
'Where is she?' he growled.
Another Thug jumped down out of the driver's seat, his rifle slung casually over his shoulder.

Jax pressed herself so close to the tree that a thick stump pressed hard against her pelvis. Rude and totally inappropriate jokes sprang to her mind. She rolled her eyes in disgust, not now!
Simo searched frantically but Jax disguised herself too well nowadays. The Thugs were pretty thick and stuck together. The driver even left the keys in the ignition with the engine running. Shifting a little to relieve the stump pressed into her groin she scraped her boot against the tree and the Thug swung around, his eyes falling on the shovel.

'There she is.' he called and the other guy and Simo swung around to look.
Jax shrugged and stepped out from behind the tree, 'Here I am. Now boys, what can I do for you?'
She lifted the shovel to shoulder height and gave it a practice swing, hoping like hell they didn't shoot.
When no shots were fired she lowered the shovel to the ground and leaned on it like a walking stick. Well she would have if she hadn't first lost her balance. With the shovel head no longer attached the handle skidded on the hard ground and splintered into two. Shocked she regained her composure only to realise Simo was screaming. She looked up and gagged. There was blood everywhere and the head of the shovel was lodged into the head of the first Thug. The second Thug was thrashing on the ground with a bullet hole in his neck. How did that happen?

Not giving it a second thought Jax realised this was there chance and dropped what was left of the handle, grabbed Simo and sprinted for the truck. Simo tried to get away from her and ran around madly like a chook with it's head cut off. Jax slapped her twice, shoved her in the truck and jumped in the driver's seat.
'You could have killed me!'Simo sobbed.
Jax shrugged, 'Yeah well, you almost had me killed by running off like that so we're even.'
Simo stared at her for a moment and then burst into fits of hysterical laughter, 'Oh my God. Oh my God,’ she panted through her tears, 'did you see the shovel?' She shuddered, 'It sliced his head almost right off!'

Jax pressed her foot to the accelerator and screeched around in a wild donut, 'Yeah, well we're not out of trouble yet!' She pointed behind them and Simo looked into the back of the truck. Somehow the Thug with the shovel implanted in his face dragged himself across the dirt and was now clinging on to the tailgate for dear life.Jax swerved madly across the hard baked earth trying to shake him but the madman would not be shook. His fingers clung to the tray and he slowly heaved himself, inch by bloody inch up onto the tray.

'You have to go back there.'
Simo looked at her like she was crazy, 'Are you crazy?'
'Uh uh' Jax shook her head.
'And do what?'
Jax shrugged, 'Dunno. Smack his fingers?'

***

for more Jax


Sunday 7 November 2010

Mayhem&Monday - November 8

Routine, Routine, Routine, the madness of the day begins - ten years ago I never would have imagined that so many things could be achieved before 8am. Not only is it possible to run 3 kms before breakfast; it seems it is also possible to make love to husband; submit a job application online; do 3 loads of laundry; unload and re stack both drawers of a dishwashers; empty every bin in the house; take out the recycling; feed the worms; feed Things 1 & 2; mend 3 story books and vacuum the floors. Phew!

And now to writing. On this fine Monday morn our MadLib will blossom from Kate Grenville's 'The Writing Book' exercise 1.6 - Describe a character. You will find MadLib at the end of this exercise.

Once again we will be exploring the character Jax from my WIP @jax #theinceptionofchaos
*first draft
**jax excerpts may or may not appear in chronological order and may or may not make the final cut.

The Grenville Exercise - Without trying to think of a story, describe a character. Sex, age, race, occupation, appearance, mood, city, country, inside, out, rich, poor, weather, alone or with others, surroundings, family, schooling etc


Luca- pronounced Lu-sah. Tall large man, muscular and lithe like a lion and capable of crushing small animals in his giant sized fists. In his early forties he is as camp as they come, his voice is high and light and he has a tendency to giggle like a school girl. He has never had a relationship with anyone other than his mother and he is flattered easily and has a weakness for feisty young women who need help. He is a hit man for hire and he owes a small debt to Agnes and is working it off at her hideout as a butler / thug. He dresses impeccably in dress shirts and linen pants with a frilly white apron over the top to protect his expensive attire. His demeanour is unusually friendly which works in his favour more often than not, people trust him. He grew up in a small country town, loved by everyone and hated by many more. His mother was a successful business woman, strong and feisty but screwed one too many people over and eventually succumbed to heart failure due to high stress levels. His debt to Agnes is not of the monetary variety, Luca has more than enough money to support himself. He doesn’t particularly care for Agnes's attitude particularly her attitude toward his lifestyle choices but prefers not to get into an argument with her- he knows what she is capable of as he has been known on occasion to be the deliverer of her bad news. Although people gravitate toward him he has a hard time keeping friends due to his occupation, he has three degrees including a masters. His father was never around and he hopes one day for the man to reappear but seeing as he has absolutely no idea who the man is that is highly unlikely. He has no other family and is lonely although he would not admit it. Oh and he is also in love with Gregor. Jax and he have sooooo much in common, and he love love loves her!!!!

Now describe the same things about a second character - no need for them to have anything in common with the first. Now connect these two characters.

Nix- Male, 50 something, Caucasian, short,  compact, muscular, fit,graying hair, soft baby face, kind blue eyes, nice full smile, gentle voice. He is a little bit devilish, fast witted, loyal and intelligent to boot.Nix is friendly to a fault but also little bit weary, he looks over his shoulder a lot more than he would like and living on the edge does not sit as comfortably with him as he would have others believe. He is a southern boy and likes the hustle and bustle of the big city, the quiet country air makes him nervous and jumpy and he hates the hot humid weather up north. His parents are still alive, although quite old and senile, and he has a vibrant family life back down south that he would prefer to be near but circumstances of his marriage to Agnes keep him away. On the outside he portrays a confident and happy demeanour, only those that pay close attention see that he is longing for something else. He is very good at his job and it is with his help that has allowed Agnes to be as successful as she is. As a spy he is reasonably well off, not rich, not poor. He has made sure his parents are comfortable in their retirement and his sisters need not worry about money. He prefers company to being alone and this has led him to be somewhat dependant on Agnes. For the most part he and Agnes have a good relationship, he is one of the only people she will listen too although recently she rarely pays attention.

Do they know each other, if not do they meet, how? If they do how, related, love, hate, accident, proximity.

Luca and Nix are familiar with one another. Nix likes to keep himself separate from the people Agnes employs to do her dirty work but he does do a thorough background check on everyone. Nix knows about Luca’s past, his mother’s death and the fact that the man blames the government for not protecting her from bad investments and dodgy underworld figures. Luca thinks nothing much of Nix, he sees him as Agnes’s beck and call boy and thinks he has no spine. When Agnes orders Luca to get rid of Nix Luca thinks it will be a breeze.

Is there something that is important to them both, an object, desire? Do one of the five senses predominate? What is the mood?

Surviving Agnes is important to them both- Nix because he loves her, Luca because he owes her his life. Agnes rescued him from a spiralling life of crime that would have seen him dead before his 40th birthday. Both men are big aftershave users and neither likes the others scent. They dance around each other, sniffing the air in disgust and largely ignore each other.

Write a page in which these two characters interact.

And now to regale ye with the a MadLib
***
'Close the door behind you,' Agnes snapped.
Luca gritted his teeth on the way out, if she wasn't ____ he would tear her ____ off and serve it on a platter.
In the hallway he ____ by the open ____ to take a few ______. The sun set glowed pinks and oranges against a stormy backdrop. Way out to sea Luca cold make out a tinge of green in the heavy clouds and the wind whipped the _____on the shore into a frenzy. He smiled, a tropical storm would be the perfect setting.

If Agnes's calculations were right, and ________for her victims they usually were, Luca's target should be in the _____ enjoying a _______.
Luca made his way quickly towards the intricately carved wooden doors at the end of the breezeway. The victim had no need to ______of a butler so Luca threw the doors open and strolled ______into the _____.

Nix looked up ______, his face flushed with _____. Luca stopped short as the _____picked herself up off the ___ where Nix had ____her and scurried out of the room.
Luca raised his eyebrow, 'Seems Agnes has a right to be ______ after all.'
Nix ____ got to his ____ and sniffed the air, 'Is that a new cologne Luc? What is it, Eau de ____?'

Across the room Luca spied the abandoned drinks tray. He helped himself to a ______before replying, 'Don't call me Luc Nix, you know I don't like it.'
'What do you want Luca? Don't you have something better to do, like ____Aggie's next victim?'
Luca turned and smiled, 'Funny you should say that.' He sat his glass down and opened the doors to the balcony. This side of the house sat higher than the front. Two stories below the ______ glistened under the garden lights.

Nix eyed him suspiciously and inched toward the doors. In two quick strides Luca barred his way, 'Not so fast Nix. Let's have a little chat eh? What were you doing in here with the sweet Miss Lily? Not ______ the poor girl surely, I mean, you know it would be a death warrant if Aggie found out don't you. I don't mind getting my hands dirty but I would hate to make a ____ of that pretty little face.'
'You really should get laid Luca, it might help you lift your mind out of the gutter. As for Miss Lily,it's not what you think. I have been helping her with ______.' Defiant Nix side stepped Luca and crossed to the other side of the room. He poured himself a drink but his hands were shaking and the vodka slopped onto his shirt.

'Here, let me help you.' Luca whipped off his frilly white apron and mopped up the vodka, dropped a _____ into the glass and poured Nix another drink. 'There you go...'
The glass smashed against the wall as Nix reared up to his full height, which barely reached Luca's armpit, and lunged for Luca's _____. A flash of silver passed Luca's line of sight and he let out a _____scream as pain seared across his cheek.

Three doors down Jax mumbled something nonsensical into her pillow and rolled over. The guard watching her kept his eyes trained on the bed and his ears trained on the commotion in the library. Another head on a platter he thought. The commotion died down soon enough and he turned his attention back to his book, if he was lucky he would finish _________ by morning.

***
 

Friday 5 November 2010

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #180

*Your Main Character picks a sliver of glass from their sleeve and gravely inspects it…
(now keep writing)

@jax #theinceptionofchaos continues from challenge 179
*first draft
**jax excerpts may or may not appear in chronological order and may or may not make the final cut.

***
Jax picked a sliver of glass from her sleeve and gravely inspected it. The waiter tut tutted as he swept up the broken medicine vials, 'Now that attitude will never do!'

Blood appeared at the tip of her finger. She put it in her mouth to stop the flow and studied her waiter. He wore a frilly white apron over a severely pressed dress shirt and tailored slacks. His hair flopped annoyingly over one eye and he kept blowing puffs of air from the corner of his mouth in an attempt to shift it.
The silver platter, sans head, crashed against the far wall. Jax dared a peek over the edge of the bed to see where Nix's head rolled to. Under the dust ruffle she caught a glimpse of his soft sandy hair and her stomach did a little flip. This situation could get a little sticky.

The man busily cleaned the tray in a fussy, bordering on obsessive compulsive, kind of way. She considered trying out the self defense Nix taught her back at HQ but then it occurred to her that it hadn't done much good for the master and she never was a very good student.

Finished with the tray he turned to Jax and offered her his hand, 'I like your style. I'm Luca, maybe we could be friends?'
His voice was softer than his build belied and the request sounded more like a little boy's plea to be loved than a fierce captors brainwashing attempt.
'Jax' she croaked. His hand felt like an over sized baseball mitt in her grasp.
'So, what do you say?' he smiled hopefully.
'About what?'
'Friends?'
'Uh-sure?'
'Great!'He clapped his hands like a over excited school girl getting ready to meet her favourite vampire/secret love interest and then daintily perched himself on the edge of her bed. 'I've been waiting for you to wake up for weeks. It's so quiet around here when nothings happening- you're the most exciting thing that has happened all month.'

Confused and still a little groggy from whatever drugs she had been forced fed Jax didn't know what to say so she said nothing. Luca didn't notice, he kept babbling on about how boring his job was and how crazy Aggie (Agnes? she asked and he nodded) could be. Ever since she cut off her arm...
'Wait!' Jax sat up, 'She cut off her arm?'
'Yes!' Luca squealed in delight. Out in the corridor a noise like a chair scraping across tiles cut him off. Luca clamped his hand over his mouth and his eyes darted to the door. Jax held her breath but after a moment, when no-one appeared, Luca relaxed, 'It was drama, drama, drama around here for days after that! You should have seen her, she looked a fright. And poor Gregor, oh the poor baby was in such distress!'
'Gregor was here? After the arm, thing...'
'Ooh, does someone have a bit of a crush?' Luca teased.
'What? No!' Jax looked away, 'No way. I am just interested is all. The last time I saw Gregor he was on my side and he was heading into a building to save our friends. Next thing I know he ambushes me on the job, Agnes is his mother and she knocks me out and I wake up here. God knows how long I've been here and you come in with a head on a plate and want to be my friend!'

'Phew' he fanned his face with his over sized baseball mitt hands and winked, 'don't get your knickers in a knot.' He shuffles about on the bed so he is laying down with his head over the edge. A bit more shuffling occurs and he sits up, Nix's head in his hands. He tosses it between his palms like a basketball.

The vacant eyes roll around in their sockets and Jax gags.
'Stop it!'
Surprised Luca looks at his hands, 'Hmm, sorry.' He puts the head on the platter and covers it over with a starched linen napkin. 'So you have questions?' He asks.
Jax rolls her eyes.
'Ok, shoot. Ask me anything!'
***

or

***

Jax picked a sliver of glass from her sleeve and gravely inspected it. High on adrenalin she giggled at the sight of blood. A warm trickle oozed down her left leg and her head felt hot. The remains of broken window crunched under her feet as she hid behind a swath of bamboo. On top of the giggles her head wouldn't stop spinning and shakes surged through her weak body. All she could do to stay still was think about the boat out at sea waiting to pick her up like a forgotten crab pot.

 The curtain twitched and a red hibiscus dropped to the ground. Luca's signal. She wanted to reach up drag him from behind the broken window  for one last hug but decides that would not be the wisest of moves when making the great escape.

It's now or never. Ducking her head and scurrying like a frightened crab across the sand she plowed into the clear warm water, sending up a flurry of white foam and promptly  froze.

The wild surf scared her, swimming in the ocean was something she would never get used to, too many creatures lurking in the depths waiting to take her as bait. The speck on the horizon, that she could only hope was the boat Triton promised would be waiting for her, seemed impossibly far out to sea. How he  expected her to swim that far out without the aid of a flotation device was beyond her. Clearly he had not heard about the time she sank to the bottom of the pool during the school carnival 50 metre dash.

A shrill whistles cut through her thoughts causing her to throw an anxious glance over her shoulder. The scrubby tropical bush revealed nothing but that was definitely the alarm signal they agreed upon. Jax giggled again imagining the camp Luca putting his fingers to his mouth and producing such a masculine sound.
With a deep breathe and a new found confidence born out of fear of being the head served on a platter to Agnes's next victim, Jax plunged into the surf.

The waves crashed at her feet and sucked the sand out from beneath them. Stumbling to gain her footing she pinched her nose and pitched in head first. The white water rushed around her and dragged her back out to see. She flailed her arms and legs in a pathetic attempt to swim through it and felt relieved as she made some progress. Another wave swallowed her whole, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut. As she did over her head she glimpsed what looked like a box shaped balloon with long dangling tentacles. Her brain seized - the Irukandji!
***
copyright T.Bell 2010

Wednesday 3 November 2010

Meet Jax - the fictional heroine driving this blog

See, I told you, average.



If someone asked you to describe Jax, the first thing you would say is ‘Oh you know, she’s average looking’ and she wouldn’t mind because it’s true.

She’s average height, if a little on the short side, 162cm, not tiny but not tall. Slim but not skinny nor chunky, light brown hair bleached by the sun. Her mum used to say it was honey blond but that was before she was hit by a bus and killed instantly in front of Jax and the entire school. When Jax is feeling down she talks to her mum and remembers the nice things she used to say. Jax would murder me for telling you that!


Anyway her eyes are sometimes green, sometimes grey and sometimes blue, depending on her mood and the time of day. She has straight-ish teeth, a few freckles, a normal sized nose, average smile, and an average figure.

The second thing you would say is ‘Be careful’.

Your listener would probably cock their head to the side and inquire why? You would lean in real close, so your lips are almost brushing their ear. With a quick look over your shoulder to make sure Jax was not around you would say in a hushed whisper, ‘She hears and see’s everything!’

Now, don’t get me wrong, Jax is not nosy, you would reassure your listener, no not at all, in fact she tries her hardest not to pay attention— she just can’t help it.

You see she has 20-20 vision and 100% hearing accuracy, acute attention to detail and a memory to boot. Her mother would tell her she inherited it from her father; he was a mysterious spy working for a top secret government agency. Not that Jax would know him if they bumped into each other on the street. He shot through on a mission long before Jax arrived and he hasn’t been heard from since. Jax’s mother died before Jax had a chance to wrangle any further information out of her.

In a strange twist, Jax actually enjoys her talents but hates the attention people pay to them. Determined to find her father – dead or alive as it may be – Jax really wishes everyone would leave her alone and let her get on with it – people rarely do.

Jax is not the kind of girl that blends into a crowd. If the things I’ve already told you don’t make our average girl stand out, then her smart mouth, clumsy demeanour and quick wit certainly make you sit up and take notice. Kids in school flock to her, parents love her, teachers have tried (and failed) to tame her, and most interesting - the government has their sights set on her.

***

@jax #theinceptionofchaos is the author's current WIP. 

if you are intrigued, join us here for Mayhem&Madness, WordsOnThePage and FictionFriday and witness Jax's character as it unfolds in a series of writing exercises.

Words On The Page

get the voices out of your head
and the
 words on the page.

a weekly exercise in just writing.

we all know how it goes-
you have planned a few quite hours to sit behind the computer
 or with pen in hand and paper balanced precariously on knee
(or laid flat on smooth table surface if you are more sensible than me)
and you have a purpose

 you wish to start that dastardly novel that keeps you awake a night
or a short story to entertain the masses,
a poem perhaps?

but nothing comes...

arrggg!
where did all those great ideas go?
where have all your wicked cool characters disappeared too?


they've all gone to a posh fancy hotel for a quick bet on the races and an expensive lunch, that's where!


aims to help you collar those wayward characters,
pilfer their winnings and
drag them back home again
to be immortalized as
words on the page.

Once a week (probably Thursday) i will post
a writing exercise
procured from a writing book

between 1pm and 3pm (AEST)
 i will sit down for two hours
and

JustWrite

at 3pm I will post my success
i invite you to join me...

post the link to your
words on the page
in the comments section
and i will be sure to comment

how many
 
 
did you reach?

Monday 1 November 2010

Progress of a novice novelist

The journey of first time novelist is indeed an interesting one. Several months ago, Cat and I found ourselves discussing the mountain of projects I had accumulated over the last 12 months. His concern was that I, a woman who has not exercised with any great regularity since she was 15 years old, would not be able to scale the mountain without causing a landslide of epic proportions. I assured him that it wasn't as high as it appeared and I was already at the top.
Cat put his hands on his hips, cocked his head and quite firmly (in a sexy Tony Danza from 'Who's the boss' kind of way) asked me to come down right now!

Now don't get the wrong impression here, Cat is the most understanding and supportive husband a girl with plans could hope for, very rarely does he say no and more often than not he is the one to encourage my harebrained schemes- even the idea I had that involved packing Thing 1 & 2, ourselves and my mother into a camper van and touring New Zealand for two weeks in the middle of the coldest winter ever.As it turned out it was a great holiday and fun was had by all, nevertheless even I have to admit, this year I may have taken on one too many a project.

It started out innocently enough, really. After 17 years I was only 8 units away from completing my degree and I thought to myself  Eight units is only one full-time year of study. I could be finished uni by the time Thing 1 starts school! Over Christmas further rationalising occurred and a serious conversation with mother secured a 2 months visit in the new year. My little mind started ticking over, I could finish the 3rd draft of 'Elysium' while mother spent quality time with the Chillin's all through February/March. Come first term I would be free of my WIP that had dominated most of my head space for the past two years (slowing the progress of the degree somewhat dramatically) and ready to sink my teeth in to full-time study.
Further more, Thing 1 was starting two days in kindy, which I decided would give me some extra time to study.

So far so good, come 30th March, the 3rd & 4th drafts of Elysium were complete and I was able to put it aside for a planned 6 months to mature before tackling the final rewrite. In the mean time I had committed to hosting a Steiner based playgroup in our home one morning a week. I also had agreed to be part of a New School Initiative to start a Steiner School in our region and further I started another book and a second blog. But it was all fine, really I was on top of it.

So although suddenly my days were not as free as I had imagined I happily ticked the months of the calender and managed to keep my head above water. Come the middle of the year I was starting to get antsy and a little bored with how well I was managing it all so I decided to add another few feet to the already extremely high mountain, I committed myself to a Collaborative Writing Project and agreed to pen another book.

Then quite suddenly a friend came to me and very gently asked if I was doing OK? At first I looked at her strangely, smiled through my shock and said 'Yes of course' and promptly started putting the clean laundry in the refrigerator.

I closed the fridge door and paused. My stomach flipped and I found it hard to breath. I rolled my neck to release some tension. It was really sore and tight. I should see a physio I thought. I turned back to my friend and smiled, 'Do you know a good physio?' I asked. She said yes, found me the number and we resumed drinking our wine. Later that night I considered what she had said and dismissed it. The next day after I snapped at Thing 1 unreasonably I dismissed that too. A week later when I sat on the closed toilet seat and wept because I was too tired to have a shower I thought about the comment again. Still I dismissed it.

It was only after Cat  found me perched atop my mountain hissing like a wild animal and firmly asked me to climb down that I actually gave weight to the situation. Okay, I admit it, I think I am super woman.

Yep, that's right, I was raised in an era where I was told I could do it all and I believed it. Delusional for sure but even now, after spending months going to bed at 8pm and being unable to drag myself out of bed in the mornings in any kind of good humor, I still struggle to admit that maybe I don't have to do it all. The trouble is, there is so much that I want to do, so much that I have convinced myself I must do, I find it hard to separate the want from the must.

fast forward a month or two and here we are. I have agreed with Cat that I will focus solely on completing the degree and polishing ' Elysium' to the stage where I can happily start sending it out to agents. This is a good strong sensible plan and it is plans like these that make Cat and I perfect for one another. He allows me to go off on a wild ride of fun and crazy scheming and I allow him to reign me in when I get out of control.

Thus far I haven't found it hard to let go of the obsessive cleaning, that was an easy one. After having a meeting with local councillors regarding the Steiner School I even happily relented on the hardcore campaigning and I have agreed to relinquish our beloved playgroup after this last term of schooling. But...

I have to admit, the extra curricular writing is continuing to grow, much like mushrooms in a dark damp corner. Now the fungus has taken hold, it is proving hard to eradicate and truth be told, I am not trying very hard. There has been no industrial strength fertiliser, no shovels and compost heaps, and certainly no hand weeding will be taking place any time soon. The writing has a mind of it's own and it has planted it's roots firmly in my life and I am happy and comfortable with this development. Thus I have taken the writing underground. It is all very hush hush at the moment and Cat is confident that I am once again safe at the bottom of my perilous mountain. And I am positive Cat will be more than understanding of this little underground activity when I secure my first deal and all is revealed.

So that is where I find myself. I have 2 more units of uni to complete over the Christmas semester, I have no less than four new WIP and I am standing at the bottom of my mountain where it seems I did manage to climb down one step at a time without causing a major landslide. However I must give credit where credit is due, the sides were safely secured with a strong sturdy wire frame provided by my own personal super supportive construction company.

Tell me, do you ever feel like the need to write is almost organic?

Thursday 28 October 2010

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #179 for Oct 29nd, 2010

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #179 for Oct 29nd, 2010
In most parts of the world, Halloween is celebrated – in some form or another – this weekend. Your challenge this week is to write a horror scene (or something horrific) using a wet noodle, a styrofoam cup and a feather.

jax@theinceptionofchaos- Continued from challenge #178, Jax finds herself in a bit of a pickle...
*first draft
*jax excerpts may or may not appear in chronological order and may or may not make the final cut.


***
Wow, it worked fast. Jax woke up under what smelled like a damp pile of feathers, her vision blurred and her head throbbing where the handle of the gun connected with her temple. The last thing she could remember was the look on Agnes’s face when Jax bit her hand in a futile attempt to break free.

A sane human would have reacted in pain— Jax had even hoped for Agnes to loosen her grip providing her with the chance to inflict more damage—no such luck. Agnes, it seemed, was beyond normal human reactions. With a sinister laugh Agnes eyes glinted with evil and without flinching she plunged the needle deep into Jax’s neck. Jax crumpled like a wet noodle.

Once her eyes adjusted to the light in the room her surroundings surprised her. The pile of damp feathers were actually sumptuous soft linen’s, the dampness caused by her own body heat rather than something grungier. A soft lamp glowed in the corner and a fan lazily circled over head. The humidity in the air hung like a wet blanket and through the wooden blinds she could see palm trees dropping their fronds onto a sandy beach.

Jax shook her head sure she must be caught up in a dream, or an illusion of denial in the least. Agnes did not seem in the mood to treat Jax to a little holiday up north. No, Jax was sure what Agnes had in mind was permanent residence somewhere much further south. As in six foot under.

A noise outside the room made her jump. The door opened and a man Jax had never seen before walked in. Jax pulled the covers up to her shoulders and tried to appear nonchalant. Never show fear, the first lesson her mother had taught her when being confronted with a dangerous situation. Sure her mother had been talking about large stray dogs but the same rule surely applied to large strange men?

‘Good-morning. Did you sleep well?’ He pulled a service trolley into the room behind him and began setting up what looked like a breakfast tray.

Feigning aloofness Jax did not reply, but her stomach rumbled, giving away her weakness. She could smell freshly brewed coffee and could detect a hint of some type of cooked meat. Her mouth watered involuntarily and her stomach growled again. The man smiled good naturedly, ‘Good, glad to see you have your appetite back. You are wasting away under those bed clothes.’

Jax did a double take. ‘What do you mean you’re glad I have my appetite back? There’s nothing wrong with my appetite!’

He pushed the cart ahead of him and came to the side of the bed, ‘Well that’s not the impression I got yesterday.’


‘Yesterday?’ Jax panicked, ‘How long have I been here?’

‘Oh miss, I couldn’t tell you exactly, but I have been here two weeks and you have not eaten a morsel in all that time.’ The man smiled again but Jax picked up a sinister edge to his comment.

Two weeks! The bed head pressed hard into her back and Jax realised she had pressed herself as far away from the stranger as she physically could. Her head felt cloudy and the room swam in her vision as she tried to focus.

The smell of coffee became overpowering, and a metallic taste filled her mouth. The silver platter on the service cart was one of those fancy ones you see in posh restaurants, with a domed silver cover. What she thought was breakfast turned out to be a long row of medicinal vials and a very large syringe. There were no mugs or coffee percolators in sight. Jax tried to form words, to ask what was under the silver lid but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

He offered her a styrofoam cup of liquid, ‘Here, the humidity in these rooms can be terrible. You must be thirsty.’

Jax sniffed at the contents of the cup. Relieved to smell only water she emptied the cup in a desperate gulp.

‘Now, if you stay still miss, this won’t hurt a bit.’ Her waiter slash captor lifted the silver lid revealing her “breakfast”. Jax took one look at the severed head on the plate and fainted.

***


How To Play:


1. Check this page for the weekly challenge.

2. Write for a minimum of 5 minutes… AND THEN KEEP GOING!

3. NO editing.

4. On Friday, post it to your blog.

5. Come back to Write Anything and leave the link to your post using the Link generator.

6. Visit other’s posts and leave constructive comments.

7. Use Twitter (with our hashtag of #fictionfriday) or Facebook etc to tell your network about the stories posted up.

8. Come back again next week!

Thursday 21 October 2010

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #178 for Oct 22nd, 2010

Include this theme in your story… After a long night, a hunter sees something he/she cannot believe



[Fiction] Friday Challenge #178 for Oct 22nd, 2010

another addition for 'Jax@theInceptionofchaos'
*first draft
**jax excerpts may or may not appear in chronological order and may or may not make the final cut.

***

'And now the gun.' Gregor held out his hand expectantly.
Jax stared at him aghast, 'I'm not giving you my gun. You gave it to me, it was a gift. You can't take back, that's Indian giving!'
'Seriously?'Gregor was suitably disbelieving.
Jax enjoyed his puzzled expression, it made him look like a defenceless meer cat. If he would twitch his nose and scurry away Jax could get on with the job.
'Jax, hand it over. I'm not kidding.'
He tried to be threatening but it was hard to take him seriously now she had compared him to a meer cat.
'Jax!'
'No Gregor.' It was time to get serious, 'You are not getting my gun and you are not going to sabotage this mission. I don't care what you think; Frank believes this guy is the leader of the Opposition and I'm going to do my job.'

The neighbourhood waited in silence, she could hear every peep and squeak in the surrounding area as she walked away from his frustrated twitching face and tried not to laugh out loud. A meer cat, why did she not see it before?
As she expected he quietly came after her, although not as quiet as she might have hoped. 'Shh!'she held her fingers to her lips and gave him a fierce look. He shrugged. Clearly he decided to make the mission as hard as possible without completely giving them away-- and possibly getting them killed in the process. Why he didn't just wrestle the gun off her, tie her up and throw her over his shoulder and be done with it.

That might be a nice way to go actually, she paused to enjoy the thought as Gregor rounded the corner. Completely blind in the dark he crashed straight into her, killing the fantasy.They tumbled to the ground, landing in an awkward although equally pleasing fantasy kind of position.  Jax landed flat on her back and Gregor fell in a heap on top of her. She shivered at the thrill of his groin pressing into her as he quickly scrambled off. She really should remember that not everyone could see as well in the dark as she. Much to her delight Gregor was blushing furiously and abruptly turned his back-- not before she caught sight of a pleasantly large bulge in the front of his trousers.

'Why don't you wait here and give your self a minute?'she whispered cheekily before taking the chance to escape. Gregor spun around to grab her but she managed to slip through his clasp and melt away in the dark before he could try again.
'Jax,' he hissed, 'Jax!'

The sound of him crashing about made her giggled. By the sounds of it she would have no trouble on her approach, Gregor was the perfect decoy. He would come in handy lost out there, if the motion detectors were set off the dogs would go for him first and leave her free to finish the job.

A line of trees and a low wall blocked her path. Without hesitation she slipped through and over. She underestimated the wall and dropped into the senator's garden, twisting her ankle on the landing. Fuck, fuck fuckity fuck. Pain shot up her leg but she didn't have time to waste on being soft, her watch read 3am, perfect timing. Anyone inside the house would be at their weakest, drowsiest point and reflexes would be delayed. It was now or get into one hell of a messy tangle with a pissed off crooked politician. Looking around she noted the familiar landscape, Triton had done a brilliant job in his description, everything was exactly as he said. After a few seconds of careful observation she located all of the security devices.

The senator was in the house alone, his family conveniently away on vacation. She focused hard on the surrounding noises and tuned into the house, the only sounds coming from within were the whir of electrical appliances on standby and a gentle snoring coming from the second floor. Jax made her move.

'Jax!' Gregor appeared at her side and roughly took her arm.
'Shit!' Where did he come from? She had had about enough of these games, 'I have a job to do, once upon a time, so did you!'
Gregor took a deep breathe and exhaled long and hard. Jax had learnt that this was a sign he was at the end of his patience. A small thrill caused her to shiver, he was too damn sexy for her to be mad for long.

'Look...' she started to speak as a hand clamped over her mouth and she felt a gun in the small of her back. Gregor's eyes popped out of his head in shock, 'Mum wait.'
Mum?Jax  thought as she spun around to face her assailant. It was Jax's turn to stare in shock, Agnes looked completely different to last time they meet. Gone was the perfectly presented elegant blonde sleuth. In her place was a crazed eyed, wild haired one armed demon holding a gun that aimed directly at her temple. Jax swallowed hard, OK maybe Gregor did have her best interests at heart.

'We can't wait any longer for you to get over your schoolboy crush Greg.' Agnes said gruffly.'Now Jax, why don't we go for a little drive?'

'Mum?' Jax looked to Gregor for an explaination.

He shrugged meekly and followed behind without the hint of protest. Caught on this detail Jax barely registered the fact that she was being kidnapped and dragged away by a mad woman who had chopped her own arm off. Mum?

***
How To Play:
1. Check this page for the weekly challenge.

2. Write for a minimum of 5 minutes… AND THEN KEEP GOING!

3. NO editing.

4. On Friday, post it to your blog.

5. Come back to Write Anything and leave the link to your post using the Link generator.

6. Visit other’s posts and leave constructive comments.

7. Use Twitter (with our hashtag of #fictionfriday) or Facebook etc to tell your network about the stories posted up.

8. Come back again next week!

Monday 11 October 2010

Kate Grenville - The Writing Book -exercise 1.2 Self Portrait

The act of putting words on the page is by no means a controlled activity. From idea to text, these words have a mind of their own.

This is a fact I am well aware of, most of my writing surprises the hell out of me. This is one of the reason's I am so enamoured with writing, when I sit down at the computer I often experience the same thrill as sitting down with a new novel by a much loved author (yes, I do love my work, I do think I am brilliant, and I do get excited about what I will write next and no, I will not apologise!).

Generally I have some idea of where I am going with a particular piece of writing but more often than not the story takes twists and turns that I do not expect.


This very thing happened when I sat down to tackle  Kate Grenville's The Writing Book exercise 1.2 - Self Portrait.

I fully intended to write a self portrait of my self, that is what the exercise instructed and really, if not a portrait

 of my self, then it would not be a self portrait no would it?

Other than the name--which was added after the exercise took on a life of it's own--what follows does indeed start of as reflective of what my mirror tells me most mornings...

@jax #theinceptionofchaos
*first draft
**jax excerpts may or may not appear in chronological order and may or may not make the final cut.



 
Self-Portrait



If someone asked you to describe Jax, the first thing you would say is ‘Oh you know, she’s average looking.’ And she wouldn’t mind because it’s true. Jax is of average height, if a little on the short side, 162cm, not tiny but not tall. Slim but not skinny nor chunky, light brown hair bleached by the sun. Her mum calls it honey blond when she’s trying to lift her spirits, Jax appreciates the effort. Her eyes are sometimes green, sometimes grey and sometimes blue, depending on her mood and the time of day. She has straight-ish teeth, a few freckles, a normal sized nose, average smile, and an average figure. The second thing you would say is ‘Be careful what you say around her, she hears and see’s everything.’ She’s not nosy, you would reassure your listener, no not at all, in fact she tries her hardest not to pay attention— she just can’t help it. You see she has 20-20 vision and 100% hearing accuracy, acute attention to detail and a memory to boot. And if those things don’t make her stand out in the crowd, then her smart mouth and quick wit certainly make you take notice. In a strange twist, she actually enjoys her talents but hates the attention people pay to them. For the most part she wishes everyone would leave her alone – people rarely do. Kids in school flocked to her, parents love her, teachers tried to tame her, and the government has their sights set on her.
copyright 2010, Tanya Bell

Happy writing!

Kate Grenville - The Writing Book - exercise 1.4 Take a single word...

The thing I love about writing prompts is how they magically turn into stories in their own right.

Over the last few months, as I have slowly made my way through 'The Writing Book' I have been thrilled to find a new character developing. 'Jax' made her debut in exercise 1.13 and slowly but surely she has left her mark upon my imagination.

I have decided to stick with Jax and apply her to all of Grenville's exercises in future. I have plotted a path for her in a tricky new world and I find myself once again at the beginning of a love affair.

 @jax #theinceptionofchaos

*first draft
**jax excerpts may or may not appear in chronological order and may or may not make the final cut.

Jax is my new heroine.

I will not give away the plot as I hope to turn these exercises in to a action/adventure YA sometime in the not so distant future but I will share the first draft of each exercise from now on in.

Buckle your seat belts, you are in for a wild political ass kicking ride.

Grenville (p.14)  - Exercise 1.4 - Write a single word at top of page and write for 60 seconds

iPad

Jax raced through the school halls as the bell shrilled for the second time. If she was late again Mr Whatsit would have a pink fit. The door was inching closed as she rushed through and the Whatsit’s face turned purple. Simo moved a book bag from the seat next to her and Jax crashed into it, ‘Cutting it close aren’t you?’


She grinned, ‘Got lost in space’.

Simo rolled her eyes and pulled the iPad from Jax’s bag, ‘What kept you this time?’ She hit the on button and scanned the recent history. As she suspected every page was a news link of some kind, all political party updates. The latest headline appeared to jump from the screen—‘Nation Divided, the three-way split of the new government.’

‘What’s this?’ Simo hissed as Whatsit turned to the interactive white board.

‘Shh!’ Jax nodded to the front of the room, pretending to be enthralled in the lesson. The picture on the whiteboard flickered and a large round head appeared.

Whatsit adjusted the sound and turned to hush the classroom, ‘Now class, this is the last day of career week and for those of you who have yet to settle on a learning pathway,’ he raised his eyes and gave a weary look to Jax. She grinned back. The teacher sighed and turned to the rest of the class, ‘as I was saying, we have a special visitor today, some might say we saved the most interesting career for last, and I would appreciate if you would all listen attentively and save your questions until Minister Rogue has finished speaking.’

‘Good morning class.’ The Senator’s voice crackled over the line. His eyes scanned the room and settled on Jax. ‘Nice to see you made it to class on time Jacqueline’.

Copyright 2010, Tanya Bell

Monday 27 September 2010

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #176 for Oct 8th, 2010

Prompt -The Main Character is a time traveler. He/She arrives at a destination but not all is as expected….

* I have written an open ending for the CYOA Time Warden series,  see my contribution below...

***


image sourced from ancientdigger.com

Selene landed awkwardly on top of Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s sarcophagus. She was not surprised that Bridie and May failed to appear. She could have guessed this would happen. She landed herself in a set up. Quickly she got to her feet and scouted the deserted tomb. Everything was just as she’d left it. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead as she reached into the Emperor’s robes to secure the Luna doll. The doll came out easily and Selene jumped over the river of mercury to the floor. Perspiration poured off her and pooled at her feet. She reached for the door but it burned red at her touch. She looked around; condensation dripped from the ceiling and streamed down the walls. In her haste she hadn’t noticed the normally darkened chamber glowed red with heat. She concentrated and tried slipping into a time crack. The vision blurred and she swayed on her feet: the heat made it impossible to focus. Time was running out and she panicked. Without warning the floor abruptly dropped out from beneath her and the world fragmented into a thousand different realities. Selene struggled to get a grip. The time continuum whirl pooled at an astronomical rate. A steep furious funnel swirled and sucked the Emperor’s tomb into non-existence. She tried to wrap her mind firmly around any one solid reality, but they slipped by too fast and she lost her touch. The funnel opening raced toward her and she could hear Cate’s laughter cut through the chaos as the vortex swallowed her. Imploding in an instant the lights timed out. Game over.

Selene kicked the machine hard, twice for effect.

Cate giggled, 'It's only a game.'

Selene turned to Cate. ‘Yeah just a game. You didn't say that when you lost!'

Cate pouted and Selene laughed, 'Come on, it’s time to go anyway.’

Cate clapped her hands, ‘Yay let’s get some ice-cream!’

‘Mum will be here soon.’

Cate's face fell, ‘But you promised...’

‘Ok, ok.’ Selene poked her kid sister in the ribs, ‘let’s get some ice-cream.’

***

How To Play:

1. Check this page for the weekly challenge.

2. Write for a minimum of 5 minutes… AND THEN KEEP GOING!

3. NO editing.

4. On Friday, post it to your blog.

5. Go back to Write Anything and leave the link to your post using the Link generator.

6. Visit other’s posts and leave constructive comments.

7. Use Twitter (with our hashtag of #fictionfriday) or Facebook etc to tell your network about the stories posted up.

8. Go back for more again next week

Monday 20 September 2010

Australiana - poetry and prose


nicolas chevalier - the buffalo ranges

In the Australian forests no leaves fall.
The savage winds shout among the rock clefts.
The very animal life of these frowning hills is either grotesque or ghostly.

Great grey kangaroos hop noiselessly over the coarse grass.
Flight of white cockatoo’s stream out, shrieking like evil souls.

The sun suddenly sinks,
and the mopokes burst out into horrible peals of semi-huma laughter.
                          
...when night comes,

out of the bottomless depth of some lagoon the Bunyip rises,
and in a form like a monstrous sea-calf,
drags his loathsome length from out the ooze.

Marcus Clarke 1876, from Preface to Gordon's 'Poems'

Wednesday 8 September 2010

Nana's Apple Crumble - The story about a woman who knew how to love...

Thump!


My eyes flew open and Hubby jumped beside me. The bedroom was dark and we both froze, waiting for another noise or an intruder to crash into our peaceful world. It was 5.35am and there should have been no-one else in the house.

Normally I would be frightened and Hubby would diligently search the house from top to bottom to reassure me. Things that go bump in the night have always made me nervous. This night however, a soothing calm washed over me and after some minutes had passed in silence, we both rolled over an instantly fell asleep.

The phone woke us an hour later. I climbed out of bed and noticed my handbag strewn across the bedroom floor. It had been sitting on the chest at the end of our bed the night before and as I answered the phone I vaguely remembered the "Thump" in the night.

My mother was on the other end of the line, and she was sobbing. Nana had died an hour before, at 5.35am.

Nana was buried on the 17th of December 2003, it was a scorching hot day. Before the graveside ceremony we visited the funeral home to say our last goodbyes. Being the first person close to me to die, this was my first experience with a viewing. No-one had thought to tell me not to touch her and in my grief I didn't think. I bent down and kissed her forehead, the icy coolness of her skin scarred me. Twelve months later when my Poppy died, I didn't go to the viewing.

Later at the lawn cemetery, I walked across the dry dusty car park blinded by my tears and stumbled, dropping my bag. Then a warm breeze lifted my damp hair off my shoulders and whispered in my ear. A soothing calm washed over me and I had the sudden thought that Nana was not gone at all. It was then that I remembered the "Thump" in the night. I turned to hubby, 'Do you think it was Nana who knocked my bag on the floor?'

Hubby lowered his head to mine, 'That's exactly what I've been thinking!'

Under the white marquee erected graveside, we found a seat amongst my many aunts and uncles and cousins and that was the moment when I decided to start trying for a baby.

Nana had twelve children and I grew up with over 30 immediate cousins. We lived in a small town and spent all of our spare time out on 'The Hill', my Nana and Poppy's sprawling fruit farm. Our life was a constant family get together, celebrating one special occasion after the other--I never had a moment to myself. After I left home I enjoyed the peace and quiet of my own company and had always thought I wouldn't have children.

Little did I know, all that was about to change. As I looked out over the sea of familiar faces-- each and everyone connected to my wonderful grandmother, not only by blood but with love-- for the first time in my life, I fully appreciated the wonderful upbringing I had been afforded.

Nana did not prescribe to any great philosophy or parenting technique, she simply loved each and every one of us like we were her favourite. She taught us how to cook, sew, knit, prune fruit trees, pick strawberries, plant flowers and play games. She was a great cook and remembered which sweet treat was our personal favourite and always made sure she had it fresh from the oven whenever we visited.

My favourite was always her apple crumble slice and sumptuously moist banana cake. Even after I left home and moved to the city for university, whenever I returned Nana would have both waiting for me.

A few weeks after the funeral my mother was visiting me and told me she had something for me. She handed me a tattered old notebook with half it's pages falling out and scrap bits of paper stuffed inside until it was fit for bursting. Nana's cookbook.

At the time I was touched and thought to myself that one day I would put the recipes in order, try them all out for myself and maybe write a cookbook about my wonderful Nana.

I fell pregnant with my son 18 months after Nana died and 18 months after that I gave birth to my daughter. To say the least, life got busy and five years have flown by. Hubby and I aim to raise our children simply and lovingly, embracing values that have withstood the test of time. Since the children were born I have tried and tried to imitate Nana's recipes and time and time again I have failed. I'm sure she's up there have a right old chuckle at my ineptitude.

But this story is not about me.I have been so fortunate to have strong capable women set fine examples of motherhood in my life and over the coming months I would love to share Nana's story via this blog, later to be compiled into a cookbook and life story for my extended family.

I do hope you have someone in your life that inspires you the way my Nana inspired me. Please click on the link so you too can enjoy Nana's Apple Crumble recipe.