The Mythical Moth

I woke to find a moth on my wall, it is beautiful and majestic. As it inspired Melissa H North, I too am inspired to create a story about the humble moth.

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MELISSA H. NORTH

While doing some research today for my book and its mythical world, I came across how amazing the humble moth is. When most of us think of a moth, we believe them to be drab brown insects that hide between the fabric of our clothing or flutter obsessively at a glowing light.  We think of moths as the boring cousin to the beautiful butterfly, however, on delving deeper, I found that moths are quite extraordinary creatures.

The Luna moth doesn’t have a mouth and can only live for one week. Its whole purpose of life is to mate.  The Polyphemus moth has eye apertures on its wings to confuse prey looking for a snack. The Hornet Moth looks like, well, a hornet! (But without the sting). And what about the mystical wood nymph; this moth has evolved to look like bird poop in a clever ploy to deter prey.  So the moth…

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Why Stranger than Fiction is a must watch for Writers.

Stranger than Fiction written by Zach Helm is one of my most favourite movies of all time, as I write this blog I am watching it as well. I have seen it at least ten times, and every time it inspires me to write and create.

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A little bit about the movie, it is about a man Harold Crick (Will Farell) who is a tax auditor who wakes up hearing a voice narrating his life. And in this movie, again not wanting to spoil it, he finds outs something, and this drives the plot along. To understand what is happening he goes to a Literature Professor (Dustin Hoffman) who helps him figure out what is going on. Unless you have seen this movie, I don’t want to go into the whole thing, but it is fantastic.

Why I think this is a must watch, is the blurring of the illusion between the author and your character. We talk about as writers that our characters can surprise us and cause us, the author, to go down a path that we did not plan for. Being a freeform writer over a planner, this is more natural to run on the whims of your characters.

This movie makes me think if my character was real; one he would hate me because I am a huge dick to what is constantly happening to him. But this allows my imagination to go on a tangent as if one of my characters changes their mind and change the direction of the story. Like when he is talking to the unconscious Stinky Pete in the first chapter to him just standing in line thinking of drinking a few ales. It always felt that he did this, I just merely tapped into this reality and words flow.

So Stranger than Fiction shows the complex relationships between the writer and their creations, and at that moment you realise you do not have full control over said characters. All you can do is just enjoy the journey.

Review of Chapter One of Caligation

This is strange to write a review on something like a prologue and first chapter, but it is happening! Brhi Stokes has her book, Caligation coming out in June and for a great bit of marketing she released the first two chapters of her book (well, the prologue and first chapter). I am so blown away by this work of hers, the imagination and vividness of the world Brhi paints with these eight thousand words is amazing.

The set up of this book is quite clear, lonely road and something big happens. This is usually not the formula for a hero’s tale, which again makes it unique. It is set in a supernatural world, and not much needs to be understood about this as the setting is clear and crisp.

In these brief insight into the book, money is dealt with, atmosphere and how is different from this world. I can go on and on about these two chapters, but I just want to read this whole book!

If you like to become wanting for time to speed up and June to come, then this book will ignite that desire.

Head to her website, BrhiStokes.com, her Facebook page, click here or her Twitter account @BrhiSAuthor

Online Dating: Knight in Shining Armour or Just plain stupid?

Hello, my dear followers, Facebook likes, and Twitter followers. I am an online dater, sad isn’t it? Well, it is sad because I am so bad at it. I don’t have pictures of cars or jet skis. I don’t send a picture of my penis to a complete stranger, hoping that will impress her. I don’t want to be as the young people talk ‘Down to fornicate’ or DTF. I am a gentleman, who like to open doors for people, and making people feel comfortable and content.

I am the worst at ONLINE DATING!

I have been doing this journey for ten years. I have dated women, but each one had something broken. Not saying that every woman who uses this type of dating is broken, but I go out of my way to only date broken women.

An example, a girl I dated for a while had a wild weekend with an ex and got knocked up, and this fabulous ‘man’ gave her 1500 dollars to have an abortion. Sweet guy. Now she told me 6 hours before my first mathematics exam at university, still I made an overall mark of 82% because I am a smart gentleman. Now you would think, that was it, no more cheating woman? No, you are so wrong! Not only did I emotionally support her, but I was also willing to put my name on the birth certificate, so her bastard child had a father.

Knight in shining armour! I am an idiot.
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Another story, I dated a girl for a while, and we went well. But, I was supporting my sister and niece because the dad was a drop kick. She broke up with me because I care for my family. Now a year later, she started to date someone, like 5 seconds after the breakup and she invited me to a party, and after everyone had gone to bed, we went for a walk. During this stroll, she said she loved me! She was still with this guy, and he was at her home asleep. That is all kinds of fucked up! Story not over yet. She asked me if they broke up, would I give her another chance? Being the genius dumbarse, I said yes. To cut a long story short, they ended 4 years later, and I asked her out because I promised I would. And she freaked and started dating this guy’s best friend. Would you think she was happy, hell no! She told me again she made a mistake and she loves me.

Moral of the story, don’t be dumb

 Time and time again, I fall for a girl and for some reason they freak out when we start to become serious. So I gave up. Haven’t dated for nearly a year, had more important things to do with me. Being a carer for my Mum and writing my first book. As you could tell I am a sucker for punishment, so I re-activated my dating account. I have no bites. Still, I know I pick up another broken woman, be that guy she needs and once she picks herself up, bye bye Sam.

When the chips are down, rant!

This isn’t a rant, I am amusing myself. I have had a really F’up love life. I mean really. Won’t go into my last one, because I think it was the worst and I had a girl cheat on me, and I was going to be the Daddy for her child. Wow.

So I thought of a new way to amuse myself ask a  series of ridiculous questions on my profile. These are my top ten ‘never to get laid’ questions.

IF you want to talk to me, answer one of these questions.

1. x²+4x+4=0, solve x.
2. Next Prime Number after 19?
3. where does this quote come from “Isn’t it easier to forgive than to hate?”
4. Name of Raymond E Feist 15th book in chronological Reading order?
5. What is your favourite comic book movie?
6. What is the difference between Fae and a Fairy?
7. Why is Anne Rice’s Vampyrs better than Stephenie Meyer’s Vampires?
8. What is the atomic weight of Au?
9. If a train is moving at the speed of light and you throw a ball, is the ball moving faster than the speed of light?
10. Do you think these questions are a waste of your time?

Talk to me if you answered no to number 10.

I like to see if I can pick women up with these? If I do, I am going to laugh my arse off!

 

Netflix’s 13 Reasons Why and my thoughts.

Warning, this is some deep shit!

You have been warned!

I have just stayed up all night binging a series on Netflix, called 13 Reasons Why. Before I go off on my tangent, watch this series. Just loved it, but it also opened my eye.

It inspired me and clicked on a switch that hasn’t thought about for a long time. This blog is about to put away my book and talk about bullying, and its effects on people; that person is me.

I don’t tell people this often, but I have a fantastic memory, well it can be subjective sometimes, but I can close my eyes and remember past events from bygone years. I remember watching the Incredible Hulk, the 1980’s television show with my brother Steven while I was two or three, the time I swallowed a marble and then rushed to the hospital and the time I was my brother’s lookout while he let off fireworks. Well, the lookout is too strong a word, being three at the time I thought I just watch for people not warning my brother about our mother busting him. Fun times.

I can recall the abuse I suffered at the hands of my step-mother. The beatings, the starvation, the humiliation, and of course suffocation.  I also can remember the police putting us (my sister and me) first into a hospital and then on to a foster home, where a fellow foster child sexually assaulted me.

Now, this is depressing; I should know I suffer from depression but stay with me I have a point.

Now primary school, from age seven to ten, were the best years of my life! (that was until I wrote Lake Merrin) Was back home with my mother and now new step-father (I have a few thing to say about him later). Friends were good, the teacher was understanding, and it was a real life. So much support. That was until we moved to Kingston in Tasmania.

That was my first time I have experienced bullying since all those years ago. It was like five years, but at that point, it was half of my life. The first day, while I had a tour of the school, every kid and I mean everyone insulted me. It was the same insult, fat-ollie. Now I am fat, I know I am fat, I see myself daily naked, I know what fat is. Being told you are fat is a whole different kettle of fish. I wish they were more original, I mean fat-ollie. After that I used to challenge people to think of a better insult, it gets old fast. Sometimes you just must stand up and own your shit!

It got worse when I went to high school. And I don’t want to explain what happened but it wasn’t just the school it was home as well. At the age of 13, my step-father told me and over the next few year told me, again and again, I was useless and not his son. Fuck you, Bernie! Nearly killed myself several times over my teenage years when it just was too much. Why did I stop? Because I have an imagination, can picture the aftermath of said act. I couldn’t do that to people, and I didn’t want to be weak. So I endured and endured. Survived shutting off my emotions, took me years to turn them back on. I wish I can’t remember these things, but I do and will for the rest of my life.

Bullying and abuse, such lovely words. What do people want? Hearing this anti-bullying system, how that will stop all this. Sorry to say, no it does not. Looking down at others is what people do. I am guilty of this when I was younger, but the older I got, the more I realised that as the old saying goes ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’. Poetic. This show made sad that this happened, happens and will be happening after I post this blog. What can we do? First off, stop the bullshit! Second, learn from different people, cultures, religions and view them in a different light. Thirdly be kind, be accepting, be welcoming, be human. We are not monsters; we are better than that.

 

What defines a writer?

As I approach the release of Lake Merrin, I have to ask ‘Am I going about the right way to becoming a professional writer?’ This question is stupid and pointless as everyone’s path is different and there is no rule (to my knowledge) that this how things are done.

Exposing myself to the community of writers has been one of the most incredible experiences I have ever had, but this can be a double edge sword as I see them doing things that frankly seems to be a       It’s not a waste of time, just not my path. Again I have to ask, what defines a writer?

Is it being published, writing blogs or entering writing competitions? Being active online on social media, telling everyone how fantastic you are? Or being part of a writers group that meets monthly? Could it be quietly by yourself creating and imagining new worlds and stories?

I think all of these define a writer, a creative. There are no labels but why do I feel that somehow I am cheating the system. I have never entered a competition or done articles. I haven’t tried to go down the traditional path of an author, finding an agent, submitting to a publisher. Does this make me less than other who have?

I believe in helping people have the guts to take that first step into a scary but fulfilling life of writing. Seeing people become as passionate in the creative medium and just trying. I don’t want a million dollars, I don’t want a fancy house or car. The only thing that I really want is that my book to be read, by one or many.

As I sit here and try and think of how to finish this blog, this reminds me how much I love writing. In the end, we define who we are, not society, not our peers, not friends or family. If you write, then you are a writer. Simple as that.

An Account from Carey Park’s Disgraceful Scene.

Last Sunday was my writing and sharing meeting at the Southport Library. It was incredible! We went through a character workshop. Going over how to create a fully fleshed out person in your novel, and how to make them memorable. We introduce each other, and I was amazed by the different creative individuals in this group.

An author talking about a memoir of her weight loss, a writer who is writing a crime book on a famous first female detective in Australia, fellow fantasy storyteller who is creating a fantastic world, a published author and finally another writer who is also writing a memoir.

It is this last writer who rocked our collective worlds. Told us a story about something that she witnessed on Monday night at Carey Park, Southport (only minutes away from my unit, walking). Here is the article from the Gold Coast Bulletin.

A HOMELESS man was allegedly viciously bashed by a group of eight people in Southport yesterday evening.

Witnesses phoned police about 5.30pm to alert them to the incident at Carey Park on Marine Pde, Southport.

Officers arrived to find the man, who has been living on the streets since August, with severe facial injuries and in the care of three witnesses.

Paramedics also attended the incident and treated the man for multiple injuries before taking him to Gold Coast University Hospital.

A middle-aged man who witnessed the alleged bashing described it as “disgraceful” and “horrific” and said his wife was left in tears after witnessing the incident.

Police were last night searching for suspects in the case after viewing footage taken by a witness.”

by Kristy Muir.

I heard this account from the witness, and there are a few facts left out. One is police response, from the initial call to them arriving was 42 minutes. I cannot understand why it took them so long as it would only take a 5-10 minute walk from the Southport Police Station. Because of this, the brave middle-aged couple went down to protect this man from his attackers. Joining them was an intrepid young reporter from the Gold Coast Bulletin, Kristy Muir. Armed with only her camera and gumption, she confronted these men and women who were taking turns, kicking and beating this man and his dog directed by a ring leader. This man’s dog was running back and forth to protect his master but received a severe kicking for its trouble.

When these young hoodlums surrounded all three. Kristy called the police and said she was a reporter and surrounded by these men who attacked the homeless man. Cop cars, police dogs, seven uniformed, two detectives and Paramedics arrived on the scene 5 minutes later.

So the man was saved. Did his attackers, who were still on the scene, were arrested? No. They got away with it, and are now being sort after by police. The witness has not been asked for a statement.

When I heard this account, all I could think, where were the police? Was this not important enough for them? If eight men were bashing me and someone called the police, hopefully, they would help me a little quicker. If it weren’t for these three brave people, this man would be dead. Would people miss him as he was homeless? Should he not get the same treatment as an employed person? Things to think about. If I saw this, I would protect him because that is the right thing to do!

If this did happen to me, I would be overjoyed that this couple care enough to save me.