1) Worked on a video over Christmas and completed ‘The Real World‘ which is a gift for my friend Nyki Blatcheley. It’s a visualisation of his poem of the same title. One of these days I must upload that to VIMEO.

2) My short story: Gheeyant The Giant Fairy is now published at Abandoned Towers. Didn’t make it to Print, but no matter, I’m glad my favourite character found a home.

3) My other short story: ‘Borrowed, Broken and Birds’ is still going ahead with Whispering Spirits Digital Magazine, although there’s a bit of a hiccup, I was told, so the next issue will not be out until later this year.

4) My poem: ‘A Space Inside My Mind’ has been accepted by The Shine Journal. It will appear there in April this year.

5) I saw this little guy near Shelly Beach. He’s a friendly Eastern Water Dragon and so adorable.

And lastly, I know it’s late, but I want to wish you all the best in 2010. Have a great day!

EDIT: Two more small successes. This is a good month!

6) My poem ‘In The Waiting Room’ has been accepted by Haruah: Breath of Heaven

7) My flash fiction ‘An Arachnologist’s Confession’ has been accepted by Everyday Weirdness

On a different matter, the downstairs area of the house is currently being tiled and it’s looking awesome! I can’t wait till we have a decent floor on which I can walk barefoot without fear of tearing flesh on chipped cement. Yippee!!

Life is good.

Now I wonder if I should buy some biscuit from Coles…

Glenn recently inspired me with his fantastic matte painting for his latest video clip project (I love the flying metal balloon thingy!!). So I decided to play around with my photos too. I know, I know, the lens flare doesn’t make sense but well, I just like the look of it, okay? Leave me alone *tongue*

The first is a mix of Koh Samui, Milson’s point and Sydney Harbour Bridge (I’ve destroyed the bridge a little, that was a lot of fun!). The second is New York and Bangkok with some spaceships (gotta have spaceships!!) Colouring/Styling was done using Sony Vegas, NewBlue film effect, and Adobe photoshop.

So, what do you think? Maybe I could do something like this for the cover of my NiP: does it look anything like Christon?

Maybe one day I’ll create a painting of Christon. (That’s the place where my beloved characters reside )

The festival will be held in TV Tower (which I think is like an Observatory deck. I haven’t been to Hungary so I don’t know), and will focus on sci-fi films by Eastern European filmmakers. They will then show short films from around the world, and that’s where “Blood Brothers” is going to be! It’ll be representing Australia!

I wish I’d made a sci-fi about Skippy the bush kangaroo…

Anyway, unfortunately I’ve made arrangements to go to Thailand for that time. But if by any chance, any of you happens to be in Hungary in May, keep the festival and me in mind, ok?

Right now, celebration is in order! Thanks again to my bro the composer, my friends the actors, my online friends the reviewers, and most of all, that silly man I’m married to for shooting the film

Wish me luck! *hugs*

I have been wasting spending time on two short stories that have now grown waaaaay out of control! They both started as 1K shorts prompted by FWO monthly challenges. I already missed the deadlines, and that should be telling enough for me to give up and move on to other more useful activities/projects. Furthermore, I also know they’re both self-indulgent types, meaning that they’re either too trashy or too preachy for me to share with anyone, let alone try to publish. I’m pretty sure I’m writing them purely for my own amusement, because I enjoy seaming my garrulous thread of thoughts  into a kind of talecloth, and making my characters dance on it, exploring my ideas (and ideals) with me in their chimerical journey.

But as much as I enjoy writing them, I am also having anxiety attacks trying to write it in a charming way, keep to the original plot and contain these ideas into coherent paths. In other words, I both adore and abhor this adventure.

So … why oh why the heck don’t I just stop?

I continue to experience remorse, thinking that my spare time should better be spent doing other things more worthy: like thinking up the next movie project, or getting my songs done, or writing up the rest of my NiP, or exercising, or cleaning up the house, or gardening (*gasp* okay, you’d need a whole lot of strength and extremely effective persuasionto get me near the greens *ugh*)… but what do I do? I get lost in these two projects I know for sure will never see the light of day.

Is writing supposed to be both enchanting and injurious like this? Does this count as procrastination? If I trade my hours on internet with indulging/torturing myself on these two stories – is that a better way to waste time? If I claim that this is my way to relax (visiting otherwordly places and pretend I am useful there), is that the same as … say… doing yoga? I mean it’s not like I’m not doing anything. I’m doing something, it’s just that perhaps this something is as useful as a cigarette butt down the drain.

Reading back, it sounds like I’m both sadistic and making excuses. I’m not. I’m just pleading for you to agree with me that it is okay for me to keep wasting my time and torturing myself on these stories :p

Actually, I just need to get it off my chest and about time I update my blog so…  Thanks for listening to my rambling!! Have a good day!

Silence
In a busy street
I hear me
Will I shut up?

Empty
In a jam-packed bus
I’m inside out
Can I flip back?

Darkness
In broad daylight
I’m reflected
Where is the sun?

Lost
In a structured world
I am trapped
Will I break free?

Maybe some day
They will come back
I will shut up
I can flip back
The sun will shine
I will be free

But that day
isn’t today

Lydia needs = a screaming night (wow, just one? )
Lydia looks like = an aggressive angel of the suburbs (haha! cool!)
Lydia hates = gardening (ah, how’d they know?)
Lydia goes = looking for bags (hmm, this reminds me of Dexter :s)
Lydia loves = fire trucks (ha ha! especially those with cute firemen in them :p)
Lydia eats = normal food (as opposed to abnormal food? :s)
Lydia has = a broken heart (awww! somebody give me tissue and a hug please )
Lydia works = with determination and skill (wow! I like this one )
Lydia lives = in Winnipeg, Manitoba (what?)
Lydia died = on 19 Feb 2008 (oh dear!)
Lydia will = never be easy till she has exposed herself in some public place (Okay it picked up a quote from Jane Austen’s ‘Pride & Prejudice’ but still suggests that I have no shame :p)

Haha! how funny is that? why don’t you share yours?

The Rescue

I need to get out of here. I’ve been here for far too long, waiting for my prince to come and rescue me. I think he must have fallen asleep in the gutter, perhaps with a beer in his hands. Or has he perhaps forgotten the way to the Tower?

Idiot.

And where is that stupid dragon? He is supposed to be here an hour ago. I am hungry. I need to eat so I can concentrate on my escape.

I hear horse’s hooves tapping in he distance and run to the window. Then I see a him, my prince, the knight in shining armour, his stallion galloping towards the bridge that connects the Tower to the mainland. Well, we need the bridge because we are surrounded by bubbling lava that looks like a sea of boiling orange syrup. Very impressive … and so will I be when I smack the prince on the back of his head with my crown. Considering his lateness, that’s a highly merciful punishment.

“Oi!” I shout at him.

His horse screeches to a stop, almost hitting the wall of the Tower, and my prince looks up.

“Princess! Oh dear, are you alright?”

“Am I alright? AM I ALRIGHT?” I cry. “Where the heck have you been, you moron?”

“I had to… err… stop at the blacksmith’s shop.” It is obvious he is trying to find excuses, and he seems oblivious to the fact that he’s picked the lamest one. He takes his helmet off because it is not polite to speak to the princess with your face covered. I don’t know who made the rules as I much prefer his helmet on.

“Stopped at the blacksmith’s shop and stayed there for four months?” I wave my fist at him.

“I need a weapon to kill the dragon,” he explains. “Where is it anyway?”

I groan. “I had to despatch him to get me some food,” I answer, “and you are way overdue for the rescue, prince. I am going to make my own escape!”

“No!” he cries. “You can’t do that, princess. My reputation…”

“Your reputation?” I snort at him. “Your reputation is as good as dregs. Shame on you for abandoning me!”

“I didn’t abandon you, pr…”

I pick the nearest book and throw it out the window. It hits his head and bounces off to the pebbly ground. “Why don’t you just come back in fifty years so you can blame it on your senility? And yes I hope that book helps you reach that state sooner.”

“Let me explain, princess, I got distracted…”

“Distracted?” I roar in anger. “By whom?”

“Not whom, what.”

“What?”

“I got distracted.”

“You said that already.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

“Well,” he tries again. “There is a war out there, you know.” He pauses, his hand rubbing the top of his head where my book has landed. “We were forced to prioritise.”

“I should be your priority, you imbecile! Do you know what it’s been like up here? It’s like summer twenty four hours a day and I don’t look good when I sweat!” I point at the lava behind him. “Plus, the dragon stinks like abandoned wee basin and he snores fire when he sleeps. See this tan? I haven’t been out sunbaking to get this! I like to buy me an air-conditioner but I don’t think it’s invented yet! It’s Hell in here, and all because of your whacked-head priorities!”

A roar breaks in the distance and the clouds part to reveal a silver dragon, wings open wide, flying towards us. I see the prince tenses up momentarily before he puffs out his chest and unsheathes his sword. He steadies his horse and fixes his eyes at the beast. He is ready.

The dragon does an impressive swooping motion towards the prince, hits his head with the talon and then darts across to the entrance of the Tower. It stretches its neck and attempts to breathe fire but ends up choking. It groans and tries again, but still chokes. Just before it tries for the third time, I shout at him. “Bruce, quit it!”

The dragon turns its head to me and then floats upwards, hovering in midair near the window. It waits obediently for my next instructions, at the same time giving me one of those puppy looks. You see, I understand the dragon because I have lived here for four bloody months.

“You named the dragon?” the prince asks in disbelief…. or something like it, I don’t know. I don’t understand the prince because I haven’t seen him for four bloody months.

The dragon flaps its wings and then lifts its talon to produce a candy which it places on my palm.

“You’re gone for hours only to get me a candy?” I complain. I see Bruce trying to come up with an explanation, but that, I haven’t managed to decipher yet in four months. But then the dragon flaps its wings some more and offers me a bow and a bag of arrows. I frown at him. “What are these for?”

The dragon grunts and nudges its head to the prince.

“I’m not going to shoot the prince, he has come to rescue me!”

The dragon gives me one of his puppy looks again so I roll my eyes. “I won’t kill him, but you can. That’s your job,” I tell him.

So Bruce roars again and breathes a sea of fire, burning the bridge, which is the only connection we have to the rest of the world. The prince gasps as he pulls the rein and gets the horse to gallop away from the fire. “Princess!” he cries.

“What? I’m not going to help you! The least you can do after what you’ve done is provide me with entertainment.”

He looks at me in horror.

Bruces soars into the sky, swirling around the Tower in yet another impressive swooping motion, before landing on the roof. The prince starts shooting arrows at Bruce, but they only bounce off the silvery scales. Bruce wriggles and spits fire at the prince, but the prince is quick, or at least his horse, galloping away to the northside of the ruins. The prince turns around and throws his sword at Bruce. The blade punctures the right wing. Bruce whimpers.

I place my chin on my palm and watch in amusement as the two play ‘who gets to keep the princess’. The battle goes on for a while, a lovely match of testosterone, building from mild burning and scratching, to dangerous bodily mutilation and limb amputation. But they don’t give up.

I decide to come between them before the prince loses his head (as it does come loose easily). “Okay, you can stop now!” I cry.

But they don’t stop. So I sigh, grab the book of magic from under the bed and chant a spell written on page twelve.

Time freezes.

“Sarah!!!!” I hear my mother’s voice from downstairs. “You can come down now. Dinner’s ready!”

I smile and look at the clock on the wall. Seven thirty. I place my lego knight and my stuffed dragon back on the bed and run out of the bedroom.

The battle can wait. Nothing comes between me and dinner.

Having said that, it was still a wonderful experience for me, to have made it and completed it. I just feel utterly bad for all the people involved who did such a great job on it, particularly my husband, my bro and the actors. I feel like I have disappointed them. Here comes the hard part of letting the world know that I have failed waaaa….

But I refuse to be discouraged (although it will take time, and I must admit, it was a huge blow to my heart). I will see if I can submit it elsewhere, perhaps there are other festivals that will have it. In the meantime, I am working on getting it uploaded to Vimeo so my wonderful friends can all watch it. I still think it’s beautifully done, although perhaps the subject matter doesn’t fit the Tropfest type, which is more commercial and happy sort.

Glenn’s friend’s movie made it to the Top 16 though – so congrats to him I am happy for him because he has worked so hard on it and he really deserves it. I am hoping he will get to win one of the winner spots!

I wish I could get over this and not become such a sore loser… perhaps things will get better after the festival.

Thanks for listening to my e-whinging

I have now uploaded the movie to Vimeo: http://vimeo.com/2978357