Mum's Make-up Draw - Every little girl's dream

We were about to go out for a family outing one day and I had been exploring Mum and Dad’s bathroom, particularly Mum’s draw, the one with all the make-up in it to be exact. We use to be part of a dance group where we would compete and thus that only being the time someone had put make-up on around me because Mum never did. The most I ever saw Mum put on (and still to this day) would be a quick bit of lipstick and a dash of the mascara brush as we all impatiently waited in the car before going into the restaurant for dinner (or breakfast, or lunch…we liked to eat out). So I had found the treasure trove that was Mum’s make-up draw. Brilliant. So as I was having a glorious time trying out all these new things that I had never seen mum use, Dad called

“Alright! Who’s ready to go?”

I jumped. Whoops. I was completely in my own little world of painting my face I had completely forgotten that we were going out. I ran to my room to grab my jacket and met everyone at the front door. Then, Dad came walking down the hallway, he must have gone to use the bathroom whilst I was grabbing my jacket.

“Hold on everyone,” Dad said as he sat on the pew (yes, we had an old church pew in our house) near the front door and gathered us together. “Have any of you been playing with Mum’s make-up?” he asked.

Oh dear. 

“No.” Said Rachel, my oldest sister.

I tried to gauge how angry Dad was.

“No.” Said Anna, the second oldest

Was this a get in trouble thing? 

“Not me,” said Emily, the third oldest. I was next.

Uh-oh. I couldn’t tell if this was a bad thing or not. I went with the safe option. Plead innocent until proven guilty.

“Wasn’t me,” I said with as much confidence as I could muster. 

Dad stared at me. Could he really see through my very awesome lie? Didn’t I look innocent?

“Are you sure it wasn’t you, Brooke?” Dad said again.

I wavered. Maybe he knew. Was I that obvious? I didn’t know what to do. 

“Well, I just tried some stuff on…” I admitted. 

“You left everything out on the counter,”

Yes?

“Oh,” I said. Because I really didn’t know what else to say.

“Could you go and put it away before we leave?”

Phew. It wasn’t a bad thing. Although man did I feel such dread. I felt so bad. 

I cleaned up the mess and we went off to wherever it was we were going. The memory stops there. And I look back now and realise that Dad, and everyone else, would have know exactly who it was because my face would have been covered in make-up. Whoops. I think I learnt to be more sneaky after that. At least, I certainly hope so.

Memories of Childhood

So now starts a new journey of writing down my childhood memories. I have been convicted. I have been hit by the realisation that I was writing to be published, not writing to enjoy and grow in the art of writing. How silly of me. Sometimes it takes time for these things to sink it. This one in particular took a good 2 years I think. Well, sooner rather than later, hey? Here is the first piece I have written:

The Supermarket:

   Outings to the supermarket were definitely a good time. There was always a chance you could go on the merry go ‘round for 20c (which has now been replaced by some thomas the tank engine one that cost s whole $2! Talk about a ripoff) or the back of the shopping trolly, or the side, or the other side and sometimes on the very, very rare occasion which I almost don’t mention seeing as they were so rare but they were some of the most joyous times that I cannot help it - the times when we could ride in the trolly itself. Oh yes. This was when you knew you had made it. You had truly worked the manipulation magic and you could glory all the food items on your own moving throne. All the other kids would look on jealously (not really) and parents would look at you quite impressed by you skills (that’s what I like to think) and you would grin at your sisters and brother because they had lost and you had brilliantly just won. However this was only one of the perks of going to the supermarket with Mum, (Dad I don’t think would have the patience to take all of us to the store) the other was the game of seeing what you could sneak through the check out. Not as in stealing, I do not think my innocent mind ever thought of stuffing my pockets purposefully. So in would go the chocolate bars, marshmallows, cereal (they were such big boxes that is was always rare to get one of these through), pens and pencils, lifesavers and fruit tingles, tiny teddies and the glorious tim tams. You had to learn how to carefully cover them whilst in the trolly with the ham, bread and juice, so that Mum wouldn’t see them whilst casually throwing in another roll of toilet paper. Then came the very hard part, getting those little gold nuggets through the checkout. You would offer to help stack the things onto the conveyer belt, hiding them appropriately, waiting with abated breath while the check-out lady or gentleman would pick it up to scan, hoping that mum was looking the other way whilst he or she did so. And even then celebration had to be held off as your treat landed its way into the plastic bags because you still hadn’t been quite successful as there was always the chance that you forgot what bag it was in and when you were home and unpacking the groceries someone would find it and point it out to mum and you were done for. Either mum would hold your treat that you had worked so hard for hostage until you cleaned your room or something equally as mean and laborsome or she would be so exhausted from taking 4 or 5 kids to the store that you got it. So really, it was completely and utterly worth it because you always got your treat (or treats) in the end. 

   I asked mum as I was writing this if she noticed us putting things in the shopping cart pretty much every time and to my shock she said no. 

   “I would notice it every now and then and sometimes I even let it pass but most of the time I wouldn’t notice at all.”

   Man, we were so good. We had skills I tell you. I wonder if that’s something I should mention in a job interview. I know I’d be impressed because it’d be not only finding a kindred spirit but someone who also has some great skills in sneakiness and manipulation. Okay…maybe not the best thing to mention in job interviews.  

Dear God

If today I lose hope God, please remind me that your plans are better than my dreams.
Thanks.

Allegiant by Veronica Roth

**I wrote this in a way to avoid spoilers so if it's confusing...I'm sorry.

When someone decides to write a series there is something they want to leave you with. They are sending out an invite to all those around them who wish to enter into the world they've carried around in their head for goodness knows how long. You open the book and as you read you immerse yourself in it, in the world, in the characters, in the fantasy that maybe you could one day live a story as exciting as this.

Allegiant was the final instalment to the series Divergent starting in April of 2011. It follows Tris and Four (Tobias) finding out what's outside the walls of the city they've know and grown up it. Is it any better outside their city or are all the problems they face exactly the same just with different names?
Set in Chicago in the future where some people are "Pure" and others "Damaged" but a sickness that can only be fixed over generations.

Veronica Roth shows brilliant character development and rhythm to her writing. I applaud her innovation in story telling and her courage to finish the book the way she did. I however, did not enjoy the last book. Had this been the first in the series I wouldn't have finished it for lack of questions propelling myself forward. The first few chapters answered all my questions and the only reason I kept going was to see what the other 400 pages were written about for I couldn't quite comprehend what on earth she was going to create.

What makes a good book or a good movie is when the creator leaves you asking questions, wanting desperately to be a part of the world they are seeing. They want you to walk away with the characters, the questions burning in your head to the point it's a number one conversation topic. One of the best examples I can think of is the movie "Inception". When you left that theatre there was not a person who wasn't talking about or thinking about whether or not it was a dream. It made people go back and watch again to see the hints the producer left behind to make you even more crazy about the answer.
I finished Allegiant with no more thoughts and no more questions. I left the Divergent series, sadly, not needing to read them again because partly I wondered if I cared. Woah. Bit statement. I cannot believe I'm saying this but it's the truth. How can you put so much effort and heart into a story then only to get it ripped away from you. I read books now to see how authors conclude, how the develop and how I can learn from their mistakes and where they succeeded. And while you, as the author, may feel the need to set the end of the book in a shocking way that most authors wont do, you're also disappointing the reader who wanted so badly to be a part of the world, to be like that character, to hope for something better than the life they are living. I felt hopelessness at the end of a book and I wish it didn't have to be.

All in all, I was disappointed. I understand why Veronica did what she did and with the views she has on Harry Potter also why she did it. Was it the best idea? No. I think it could have been spectacular instead it finished sadly, just like the ending of The Hunger Games.  

Storytelling for beginners.

A great short video for people who are writing.

Having fun?

Why is it that when I organise to write, 70% of the time I wonder why I am doing it? Either my mind decides to shut down, go on strike and refuses to give up the information or.... well, I enjoy it and write for a bit, 30% of the time.
So tonight, as I was chatting to God, figuring out whether or not I was exercising for myself or for others, I remembered the promise God gave me (and the day I told God) that it was going to be an adventure with Him. That fun was what we were going to have. So I realised that something must be wrong if I'm not enjoying writing.
So I asked myself, why am I writing?
To inspire and influence children.
Awesome answer right?
Wrong.
Well...sort of wrong, I mean it's a pretty good answer.
Back to the point though...
I should be writing for myself. I should be writing to get to know God better. This is what it is all about. It's actually meant to be fun, to be an adventure, so when it isn't there is something wrong. I was trying to hard to write to please everyone I forgot about writing to please myself. I should want to know what's happening, want to know how it ends, but instead I'm wondering if I'm getting the message across. Whoops. How do I want to story to end? Exactly how I want the story to end.

Don't loose weight for anyone other than yourself. Don't write for someone other than yourself, it wont be fun and pretty soon it'll turn into a job you hate.

Writing Backstory and Writing Information

When you read a book it's completely different from watching a movie. The common line in we writers are taught (and authors preach) is to "Show it, don't tell it" which, if you think about it, is completely and utterly ridiculous simply because it doesn't actually make much sense.

Okay, okay, I get it, it does. And this blog post isn't actually trying to poke holes in the theory but rather to embrace it. Chat about it.

Veronica Roth, author of the Divergent series, said that if you're interested in knowing how to write a good back story, get your hands on a copy of The Maze Runner by James Dashner. Since the main character has no memory of his past you find out his past at the same time he does which means you don't feel like you're being thrown all of this information that you (the avid reader) think is useless. (Yep, authors, we think sometimes all of that super important information you wrote is useless...)
So, my thoughts today have been on the idea of how does one write back story and information without it being boring or seem like you had to squish it in somewhere? 
My conclusion? Well, I didn't really come to one but pondered on a few books I had close to mind (one being Harry Potter of course, I mean when isn't Harry Potter one of the first books that come to mind?).
I decided that a lot of books seem to have an old person or an all knowing person who has all the information and waits patiently for the protagonist to ask the right questions or be the right age to reveal something. Or the meet a family member who has the answers. All in all, there is someone who knows and we ask them questions. Sounds simple enough and it seems to work because before you know it you just read 2 pages of description that you found interesting because you connected with the main character so therefore you too want answers.

So, with this revelation, I realised I need an old person who knows all to show themselves. Great. Glad I realised this now not halfway through writing.

...I knew there was a reason I hadn't written much (errr, anything) yet.