Tuesday, 28 February 2012

The power of the pinky!

My pinky finger hurts. Or aches is probably a more accurate word choice, its not actually sore it just kind of 'protests' when my brain asks it to do things, which in my opinion is happening way too frequently for my liking...

I mean its a weird thing really isn't it? Look at it. Right now. Go on.

Ok? All know what your pinky looks like? Now tell me what you use it for...

Honestly it serves NO purpose. For years it just hung onto the end of my hand threatening to get caught in doors and stuck in holes too small for other fingers...and then came the piano...and now that I've started using it it thinks it runs the show!

I dont know how many times ive had to hit "backspace" today because my over enthusiastic pinky has opted to hit a key (not the piano type for those struggling to keep up!). I actually managed to spell 'Fluke' (one of the main characters) with two P's and an I.

Apart from the protesting pinky finger today has actually been pretty productive all be it ten hours were spent in work. (On a side note, do you know that if the average person works five days a week for fifty years with an average of thirty days holiday a year, a staggering 2/3rds of your life will be spent in the work place? Thats not time spent working, thats ACTUALLY in the building! Really hits home the point...'Find a job you love or learn to love your job...')

EDIT: (Yes the maths does seem a bit strange, but im not basing it on hours you are alive, its based on days of your life. You will have to go to work 2/3rds of every day in that fifty year period. Make more sense? Ok. Moving on swiftly on...)

Made a pretty strong start on the next chapter and a few good ideas crept up on me. The characters are really beginning to take shape now. From a dark and brooding mystery to a sarcastically brilliant genius each character has developed their own personality and it is actually a lot of fun to write. I can feel myself getting inside their head.

Ive always had this OCD like hatred for authors who use dialogue to tell a story:

"Thats a nice blue jumper your wearing. Oh look John, that man is putting a body shaped bag into his 1957 Chevrolet convertible."

"Oh my gosh Gill so he is! Im going to walk briskly towards that phonebooth and dial the police, I hope he doesnt see me..."

Pish. Honestly how it sells baffles me.

Its the same in life, dont tell me how it works, show me! I dont want to get told a story, I want to get involved. I want to love the good guys and loathe the bad guys and I really feel *pats himself on the back* that my characters do this well.

Dialogue is used not to develop a story, but to develop a character. It is an oppurtunity to get a glimpse in to the inner workings of the characters mind and really bring them out into their own.

Ontop of the positive start on the next chapter, im up to four thousand words in the Aeon submission so at the half way mark for that. AND I even started on a synopsis for Empire which will also be my next submission to the GWG. Very productive day.

Re-read the Adrian Mole series by Sue Townsend over the last few days and found lots of it very disturbing...because it is surprisngly accurate.

I have often heard it said that a man has no chance of understanding what is going on in a females mind...but Sue Townsend knows exactly whats going on in a guys. Is it wrong that I could relate to Adrian Mole as a character? I mean I actually caught myself laughing and thinking, 'been there...".

I definitely went through the 'protentious' and aloof stage in high school. "It wasn't there fault they misunderstood me, they were normal...I was an intellectual because I read the Herald...sometimes, maybe once or twice a year" yup that was once me. Or when he grows up and gets his first flat and has the drawer with unopened credit card bills...yup been there too! Lol!

It kind of got me thinking about some embarassing moments/situations ive found myself in. I've now labelled them my 'Cringe' moments because I genuinely look back on them and physically cringe. "Was I ever that immature? Naive? ...stupid?" 


.......you thought I was actually going to disclose one of them?

.........well, *sigh* I suppose you did read this far...

Picture the scene, it's my 3rd year of high school and I have only recently come to the realisation that members of the opposite sex are not 'stupid and boring' and are infact, quite nice to look at and fun to be around. Infact some of them were so nice to look at I couldnt stop looking at them! I found I could not take my eyes off of one In particulair. She didn't try to be beautiful like alot of the girls, she just was. She was funny and smart and caring and interesting and blah blah blah, you get the picture, I liked her. ALOT!

But 'boys being boys' my advances were about as clever as a fish in the sand. They consisted of the usual. Hair pulling, teasing and general name calling involved in teenage courting rituals (at least my understanding of them at the time). But I reallllllllly liked her. To the point where I would fall over the desks and chairs (yes this happened once) to talk to her in the ten seconds between the bell going and the books getting packed away!

And then I hit the jackpot. Modern Studies, Mr Beattie and a seat right next to the girl I was in love with! What could possibly go wrong? *cringe*

The first few days were tense as I gathered my nerve and tried to work out the perfect opening line and finally I decided I would ask to borrow a pencil. (Real smooth Phoenix...)

Then Mr Beattie beat me to it! He asked her a question that she couldnt answer, I stepped in to save the day and then...

Mr Beattie: I didn't ask you Phoenix, I asked her...you know...(he leans back in his seat arms crossed)...you know...I can see a future between you two...(a big stupid grin on his face as he looks first to me then to her).

The class is silent. My heart is thumping. I need to say something, something funny. Quick, quick, use that intellectual wit, QUICK!!!

Phoenix: Ha...I've got standards!

The class takes a breath as one, the girls face actually falls, just about as fast as my thumping heart falls through the floor. *CRINGE*

To make matters worse, I tried to apologise for this on several occasions:

1) The first time I tripped as I approached her table, succesfully falling into my coca cola in the middle of the dinner hall.

2) The second time we were talking away in the dinner queue and a random jet of water/saliva sprung forth from my mouth (the tiniest amount and I swear this has never happened since) but it landed on her cheek... and I laughed (c'mon it was an awkward moment, how do you recover from that?!?!)

3) And the third happened many years later when I was eighteen and well on my way to being a mature adult. I was rather worse for wear on the Cheers dance floor, throwing shapes like no ones business and mixing champagne and tequila like it was water and ice...and there she was...still as gorgeous as ever...so I..*CRINGE*...CHASED! (Yes C.H.A.S.E.D) her around the dancefloor, as in she was runniny away. I fell. Twice.


Ever just think it wasnt meant to be LOL? At least I can laugh at it, and do laugh at it...after I cringe of course.

That is just one of many folks, im sure you have them too.

But if you can top that one however id be impressed!#

Anyways, my pinky is starting to hit the enter key a little too often for my liking so I will say goodnight!

Thanks for






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