Well, it's a busy week - politically speaking - here in Oz.
Last week, the deputy grand poobah of NSW, John Watkins, resigned. Then grand poobah of NSW, Morris Iemma, resigned yesterday and there's a cabinet shake-up which will be announced on Sunday; West Australians go to the polls to elected their grand poobah with the current Labor Government there in trouble and there are two separate elections for former ministerial seats in NSW and South Australia. Next weekend is the local council elections - and I'll be voting for someone other than the current manipulative, arrogant Mayor (much as I'd like to vent my spleen with harsh language, this is a public forum).
In a week, the whole face of local and State politics will undergo a radical shift. It will also indicate how the people of those States involved view the Federal Government - and current polls suggest not very kindly. Two State governments, the Northern Territory and West Australia have gone to the polls early, something Australians see as cynical and opportunistic. NT Labor came exceptionally close to losing; WA may well be lost for Labor.
With one political disaster after another, Iemma and his treasurer Michael Costa, are gone now, but the problems remain. Worse, these are the same problems that Iemma took over from previous NSW Premier Bob Carr, who jumped ship early amid congratulations and severe back patting. Iemma was left holding a poison chalice.
But... he did little or nothing to fix the rail system, hospital waiting lists, education, roads, traffic, presided over cross-city tunnel that is sucking taxpayers dry because too few people use it and many other failed-to-solve issues. The now former treasure said this morning that NSW is basically 'insolvent' with revenues collapsing, budget blowouts and money squandered as if the people of NSW have bottomless pockets.
In two years, New South Wales Labor will go to the next election with two newbies: Nathan Rees and his deputy, Carmel Tebbutt. The tough decisions he's going to make will not enarmour him to the people. Times are tough already.
Mr Rees has already sacked Iemma's 'strategic' team and has said he won't be influenced by factions. So not true. Any Labor leader in this country is leader only at the behest of the factions who support them. Withdraw that support and you're gone, as Morris found out yesterday.
It gets worse. Mr Rees was was chief of staff to the convicted paedophile and drug offender, former Member of Parliament, Milton Orkopoulos. What does Rees know about that and what else is he hiding?
The only bright spot in this whole political mess is that Quentin Bryce, former Queensland governor, lawyer, academic, sex discrimination commissioner and child-care campaigner, became Australia's first female and 25th Governor General - the direct representative of the Queen in Australia.
Let's hear it for Grrl Power!
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Friday, September 05, 2008
The Queen
I'm reading J.D. Robb. Yes, all of them and in order.
There's something compelling about them. I don't know what; maybe it's the intricacies of crime-solving told smoothly, sometimes with humour.
It's all the more amazing when you consider that J.D.'s alter ego, Nora Roberts - the undisputed Queen of romance - doesn't use an outline or character profiles. She also writes in sets of three. Three J.D. Robb; three original Nora's. And is a year ahead of the publishing schedule.
In a reply to a question (19/9/2007), Nora said:"I don't do outlines, but I figure if a character doesn't surprise me or go in a direction I might not have planned, they're not real enough--for me or for the reader."
I am in awe of such a talent, but I think I have a clue has to how she does it - over and beyond the sheer concentration it must take to hold all that information in mind. Am I going to share? Well, not yet. I'm nowhere near the master she is. Hell, I'm barely a neophyte at this writing gig. But if my theory plays out, I'll tell.
What I can say is a number of writers 'how to's' are finally beginning to gel. If I can wrap my head around it all, then maybe I'll have the answer to why my stuff isn't as good as I want it to be. And that will be so-o cool!
Maybe it is as easy as A.B.C...
There's something compelling about them. I don't know what; maybe it's the intricacies of crime-solving told smoothly, sometimes with humour.
It's all the more amazing when you consider that J.D.'s alter ego, Nora Roberts - the undisputed Queen of romance - doesn't use an outline or character profiles. She also writes in sets of three. Three J.D. Robb; three original Nora's. And is a year ahead of the publishing schedule.
In a reply to a question (19/9/2007), Nora said:"I don't do outlines, but I figure if a character doesn't surprise me or go in a direction I might not have planned, they're not real enough--for me or for the reader."
I am in awe of such a talent, but I think I have a clue has to how she does it - over and beyond the sheer concentration it must take to hold all that information in mind. Am I going to share? Well, not yet. I'm nowhere near the master she is. Hell, I'm barely a neophyte at this writing gig. But if my theory plays out, I'll tell.
What I can say is a number of writers 'how to's' are finally beginning to gel. If I can wrap my head around it all, then maybe I'll have the answer to why my stuff isn't as good as I want it to be. And that will be so-o cool!
Maybe it is as easy as A.B.C...
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
On the other channel
I want to comment on Sarah Palin and the on-going 'controversy' so much it hurts. But... I won't. Nut'in to do with me or anybody else.
There's a new story over on The Takeaway though; if you're interested, that is.
Now, back to the plot...
There's a new story over on The Takeaway though; if you're interested, that is.
Now, back to the plot...
Monday, September 01, 2008
Relaxing
Today is a mild, almost warm day. An excellent start to Spring.
I spent the weekend away from the computer - didn't turn it on at all. Instead, I scooted off to the southern highlands for some window shopping and lunch with a sister. Very relaxing.
Yesterday, another sister visited and I just had to make chocolate cake. She has a new toy, a laptop, so we played.
Overall, it was just what I needed. No worries about lack of progress in plotting, no guilt at not putting fingers to keyboard.
And now, finally, the cobwebs are cleared away and I'll be posting a new story on the Takeaway, which has suffered from lack of attention. That's for Wednesday. For now, I have a story to edit.
I spent the weekend away from the computer - didn't turn it on at all. Instead, I scooted off to the southern highlands for some window shopping and lunch with a sister. Very relaxing.
Yesterday, another sister visited and I just had to make chocolate cake. She has a new toy, a laptop, so we played.
Overall, it was just what I needed. No worries about lack of progress in plotting, no guilt at not putting fingers to keyboard.
And now, finally, the cobwebs are cleared away and I'll be posting a new story on the Takeaway, which has suffered from lack of attention. That's for Wednesday. For now, I have a story to edit.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
No good deed...
The more I think about this next project, the more frustrating it is.
I've been kicking around a few ideas with the thought 'no good deed goes unpunished' in the back of my mind.
I've been looking over a character sheet, trying to list a few things without much success. No name, no physical description, no birth date or astrological sign; no partners or parents or history. I have an occupation, a talent and an opening scene with dialogue that keeps changing. That's it. But I've started with less.
Okay, I've got a villain, of sorts; an amorphous, strident, spoiled, briefly glimpsed, villain.
It's as if this story is holding back until October 31; that it doesn't want to be told until someone presses the start button on Nano. For once, I want to be further along than just a thought when I start.
And before anyone suggests it, yes, I've tried the interview technique as was met with resolute silence - from every single character I could come up with.
Sounds like writer's block, but it's not. It's all there, the flashes of insight, the brief sounds, half heard questions of dialogue, the colours of magic...
I'm slowly - oh, so slowly - building the picture, but it's two dimensional yet. It needs to be three dimensions, with depth, vision, and full blooded characters I can torture for four hundred pages or so.
The difficulty, I think, is reconciling a protagonist who has the ability to both harm and heal with the same hand and at the same time. Cryptic, vague. No good deed goes unpunished. Magic has consequences. Modern, ancient or fantasy world? A mixture?
I'm gonna have to give it some more thought, coz, damn, it's a good idea!
I've been kicking around a few ideas with the thought 'no good deed goes unpunished' in the back of my mind.
I've been looking over a character sheet, trying to list a few things without much success. No name, no physical description, no birth date or astrological sign; no partners or parents or history. I have an occupation, a talent and an opening scene with dialogue that keeps changing. That's it. But I've started with less.
Okay, I've got a villain, of sorts; an amorphous, strident, spoiled, briefly glimpsed, villain.
It's as if this story is holding back until October 31; that it doesn't want to be told until someone presses the start button on Nano. For once, I want to be further along than just a thought when I start.
And before anyone suggests it, yes, I've tried the interview technique as was met with resolute silence - from every single character I could come up with.
Sounds like writer's block, but it's not. It's all there, the flashes of insight, the brief sounds, half heard questions of dialogue, the colours of magic...
I'm slowly - oh, so slowly - building the picture, but it's two dimensional yet. It needs to be three dimensions, with depth, vision, and full blooded characters I can torture for four hundred pages or so.
The difficulty, I think, is reconciling a protagonist who has the ability to both harm and heal with the same hand and at the same time. Cryptic, vague. No good deed goes unpunished. Magic has consequences. Modern, ancient or fantasy world? A mixture?
I'm gonna have to give it some more thought, coz, damn, it's a good idea!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Agents and... stuff
Writer's Digest has an interesting article on 10 Tips for Querying an Agent.
I figure the tips also work for international peeps. It's all just good manners, co-operation and common sense - which sometimes, doesn't seem so common.
There there's the article on 28 Agents Who Want Your Work. Kudos for them putting themselves at risk of being dumped on from a great height with thousands of queries.
Maybe the tide is turning and the publishing industry has finally wised up that if they don't make time for new authors, they'll end up not having any at all.
* * *
I mentioned in a reply to a comment that I didn't have an idea for Nano. The Muse - in her infinite wisdom (ha! Suck up that I am!) - then proceeded to deliver an interesting image; one where good equals bad and vice versa.
I've been trying to nut out the specifics. The image won't leave, I suspect, until I have worked it out. But brick walls are so uncomfortable to bash your head against.
The details are slowly seeping into my thick skull, though. Maybe there is something to this careful plotting thing... I'm waiting for the elegant twist at the end, though.
I figure the tips also work for international peeps. It's all just good manners, co-operation and common sense - which sometimes, doesn't seem so common.
There there's the article on 28 Agents Who Want Your Work. Kudos for them putting themselves at risk of being dumped on from a great height with thousands of queries.
Maybe the tide is turning and the publishing industry has finally wised up that if they don't make time for new authors, they'll end up not having any at all.
* * *
I mentioned in a reply to a comment that I didn't have an idea for Nano. The Muse - in her infinite wisdom (ha! Suck up that I am!) - then proceeded to deliver an interesting image; one where good equals bad and vice versa.
I've been trying to nut out the specifics. The image won't leave, I suspect, until I have worked it out. But brick walls are so uncomfortable to bash your head against.
The details are slowly seeping into my thick skull, though. Maybe there is something to this careful plotting thing... I'm waiting for the elegant twist at the end, though.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
A dark and stormy...
Ah... Spring!
The Wattle's in bloom, the scent of Freisias drifting on a mild breeze and the McCartney Rose has more buds than a beer factory; you know, that beer, which smells of yeast and beer and hops, only it's a flower...
Last week, the Bulwer-Lytton winner was announced. It's a competition of "wretched writing", sourced in the paragraph by Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, in his book, Paul Clifford (1830).
The infamous paragraph?
"It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents--except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness."
This year's winner is Garrison Spik who wrote: Theirs was a New York love, a checkered taxi ride burning rubber, and like the city their passion was open 24/7, steam rising from their bodies like slick streets exhaling warm, moist, white breath through manhole covers stamped "Forged by DeLaney Bros., Piscataway, N.J."
Dunno... There are some absolute howlers this year. Like the winner of the Detective section:
Mike Hummer had been a private detective so long he could remember Preparation A, his hair reminded everyone of a rat who'd bitten into an electrical cord, but he could still run faster than greased owl snot when he was on a bad guy's trail, and they said his friskings were a lot like getting a vasectomy at Sears.
Or this one, from the Adventure category:
Leopold looked up at the arrow piercing the skin of the dirigible with a sort of wondrous dismay -- the wheezy shriek was just the sort of sound he always imagined a baby moose being beaten with a pair of accordions might make.
My favourite? Runner-up in the Spy category:
The KGB agent known only as the Spider, milk solids oozing from his mouth and nose, surveyed the spreading wound in his abdomen caused by the crushing blow of the low but deadly hassock and begged of his attacker to explain why she gone to the trouble of feeding him tainted milk products before effecting his assassination with such an inferior object as this ottoman, only to hear in his dying moments an escaping Miss Muffet of the MI-5 whisper, "it is my whey."
Go on, go and have a laugh!
The Wattle's in bloom, the scent of Freisias drifting on a mild breeze and the McCartney Rose has more buds than a beer factory; you know, that beer, which smells of yeast and beer and hops, only it's a flower...
Last week, the Bulwer-Lytton winner was announced. It's a competition of "wretched writing", sourced in the paragraph by Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, in his book, Paul Clifford (1830).
The infamous paragraph?
"It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents--except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness."
This year's winner is Garrison Spik who wrote: Theirs was a New York love, a checkered taxi ride burning rubber, and like the city their passion was open 24/7, steam rising from their bodies like slick streets exhaling warm, moist, white breath through manhole covers stamped "Forged by DeLaney Bros., Piscataway, N.J."
Dunno... There are some absolute howlers this year. Like the winner of the Detective section:
Mike Hummer had been a private detective so long he could remember Preparation A, his hair reminded everyone of a rat who'd bitten into an electrical cord, but he could still run faster than greased owl snot when he was on a bad guy's trail, and they said his friskings were a lot like getting a vasectomy at Sears.
Or this one, from the Adventure category:
Leopold looked up at the arrow piercing the skin of the dirigible with a sort of wondrous dismay -- the wheezy shriek was just the sort of sound he always imagined a baby moose being beaten with a pair of accordions might make.
My favourite? Runner-up in the Spy category:
The KGB agent known only as the Spider, milk solids oozing from his mouth and nose, surveyed the spreading wound in his abdomen caused by the crushing blow of the low but deadly hassock and begged of his attacker to explain why she gone to the trouble of feeding him tainted milk products before effecting his assassination with such an inferior object as this ottoman, only to hear in his dying moments an escaping Miss Muffet of the MI-5 whisper, "it is my whey."
Go on, go and have a laugh!
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