Category: My Books & Stories

Earth Fall, 21

Connecting A to B

Connecting Earth Fall to Meld is not happening. The amount of time between them is out of wack. I think now that the events in Earth Fall took place before anything in Mongrel happened.

Lol, does it seem like I’m talking as though these events are coming into being without a writer’s input? Put like that? Yes, it does. A broad band of muscular storying is growing between Earth Fall and events in Mongrel and it’s not like I planned anything much.

Mongrel was to be part one of a trilogy that in my mind I’ve already scaled back to a twosome. Time will tell. Mongrel resides in the long long tail of indie published novels marketed by Draft to Digital.com.

I had a quick read of Mongrel’s Chapter 26 the other day and thought I wouldn’t mind running my eagle editing eye over it once more. And maybe turn it into an audio file by reading it chapter by chapter into some software and publishing that chapter by chapter.

Which will necessitate taking it off Amazon if I don’t want to get a shirty email, saying I’ve been cancelled, as the biggie doesn’t allow any part of a production it’s selling to exist outside the virtual covers of the item being sold.

Making some friends over on Substack, I got a bunch of links on how to find my voice. Thank you, Aurelian Ashmore. So yeah, I’m looking into it.

Cat Diary, 40

I’ve learned Come and Sit, both of them easy, but does the old woman think I am a dog?

She keeps saying “Look.”

I look everywhere she might send a kibble.

Have I told you I’ve graduated onto grain-free kibbles? That’s mornings, anyhow. She persists feeding me the lesser kibbles from lunch time onward.

Everytime I think I’ve trained the old woman to send a kibble into the direction where I’m looking she screws the lid back onto the jar and that’s that.

Here’s me looking everywhere …

We’ve been working on it for a couple of weeks, I might’ve cracked it 20% of the time and she keeps wanting me to look at her while she throws the kibble.

That’s so labour intensive. I want to be looking into the field when the kibble sails overhead and I can see where it lands.

She started to teach me Look because she kept finding kibbles where I hadn’t found them. What does she expect? That I should sniff them out??

I want to skip Look and go to Lie Down, should be easy to pick up a bunch of food mid morning.

Weird Angles

Sometimes an unusual angle of a familiar place throws out your or in this case my familiarity with a place.

This must be a view of the place where I live, in one of the three buildings in the background of this view. There are a lot of bits on it that I just don’t recognise.

The buildings in front are the back of the Harvey and Norman Plaza, I know that for sure.

Behind them as the crow flies … well I see them but I don’t recognise them. Not that I particularly love their architectural style—it’s a case of what can be done to box up 3 x 95 home units economically—I am interested in how the built environment can be situated in the landscape.

In this part of Brisbane, residential multi-storeys are being shoe-horned among areas of older style single family residences on a block of land, the many parks and, it seems to me, the many commercial and retail plazas.

The way inner Brisbane is transforming is totally different from the way the outer Sydney suburbs transformed during the time I lived in Berowra, in what were then the northern outskirts of Sydney.

I’m going to have to try to circle the so called village and photograph it from all angles.

For the photo above I stood in Carindale Park on the cricket ground somwhere. I can see I’ll even need to record where I stand.

Earth Fall, 19

The action from here to the end of Earth Fall is from Ushen’s point of view. Her very early memories and experiences are glossed over somewhat, since realistic communications would’ve ranged from inchoate to difficult as she is only two years old at the beginning of the chapter.

Rather than posting up the whole lot at once, I decided on short chapters relating to the distinct phases of Ushen’s life. Plus, my thinking was that starting with very short chapters would allow me to expand where needed while editing, and that has been the case so far. Section 1 started with a bunch of notes of about 500 words, that became approx 1800.

As seems to be becoming usual these days, I’m behind on sourcing/painting imagery. The image pertaining to this installment may be added later.

19. UshenDownload

Not a Cat Wrangler Now

From a long time cat wrangler, I’ve gone to being a … well, words fail me. I don’t know what I now am to a cat.

Make that, not this cat.

She decides my program and when I don’t keep to it, she’ll let me know.

Like today. She acts like she’s out of patience with me and just now batted my wrist with her claw.

I’m lucky I’m wearing sleeves or there would’ve been another scar beside the one wher she got me last time.

At first I don’t even want to work out the why’s and wherefore’s. I’m furious and get the spray bottle ready should she have another go.

As the pain fades—yes, she hit a nerve—I think again. Do I really want to go back the square one with her? Not really.

I start the analysis. How have I not come up to her expectations?

Today I had a visitor for half an hour and then I went out for two hours. Both normally not what happens on Wednesday’s.

There was an extremely long and large boom lift working outside, fixing the outside of the highest balconies. When you’re on level 2 this thing is menacingly visible in all the places a cat likes to sit.

I’m not looking at you

What else? Did I miss giving her any meals? Nope. She got her titbits at lunch and dinner, her breakfast hunt and her training session at 10.30 a/m.

The last feed of the day isn’t until 9 p/m. Do I spoil her? Yes. Is she spoiled? Yes, I’m inclined to think. She was a stray before she spent a hundred days at the cattery recovering.

Right now she’s pretending nothing untoward is going on, but lying nearby as though she’s waiting waiting for me to suddenly discover I haven’t done xyz for her yet.

But it’s only 8 p/m. I don’t even have the TV on for her to get narky about. Umm, what was I doing when she lashed out? Reading a book.

What? I’m not allowed to read anymore?

So, Readers, with me so far?

What does she need more of?

As I’m typing it, I’m thinking it. More attention! She needs more interaction. Or she needs more … or she needs more … or or or!

I don’t know. Biggest ongoing mystery in my life.

I’m stumped.