Right of Reply

It’s always great when you stir up a response to something you write. I expected more backlash from my gentle dig at belonging to a book club (Sep 7, 2010). Mrs. F naturally took the bait: “Cup of tea! We only drink wine at our book club!”

Below is an interesting response from Mrs. Jingle to my comments last night on When The War Began movie versus book:

“Re. the origin of the attackers. We know that Marsden never chose to reveal the race that attacked.  He has said he didn't want to, as it doesn't matter.

I have just read a passage where someone nasty is talking to Ellie and says, "How did you know General S- would be there?"   It then goes on to say: “I couldn't pick up on the name he said, it was not an easy one to pronounce.” Another clever way of Marsden making it clear that he will never reveal the true identity of the invaders.

I personally believe that when he wrote that ‘they’ spoke in a foreign 'unrecognisable' tongue, that this did not rule out an Asian country.  An Asian country was always my first belief (being so close to us and easy to invade). Having said this I still doubt China - it's their cities that are over populated I believe.  And, having travelled through Thailand, Malaysia, Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam and even include Nepal and Sri Lanka, if I heard someone speaking Korean or Taiwanese, I would call that an Asian 'unrecognisable' tongue - BUT - Marsden wanted to make a point that it doesn't matter which country invaded which is why I believe he said 'foreign'.

These thoughts have only just been more confirmed in my mind as where I am up to now [Book 3] the 'foreigners' are serving rice, steamed fish and curried meat' to prisoners.  That rules out European, Russian etc in my opinion, as they would be serving potatoes not rice most likely.  And if they were Chinese, they wouldn't be serving curried meat!  Chinese don't eat curry!   So, my thoughts still lend to Marsden picturing an Asian or Sub-Continental Asian country.  If you overheard Vietnamese, Korean or Sri Lankan or Nepali, most would say they did not recognise the language...”

The problem with Blogger is that it is very difficult for a reader to leave a message. I have seven followers who tackled the process of ‘following’ but then probably another half a dozen or so who text or email to my personal account. I really appreciate the support (and comments.) I don’t claim to be some literary talent. It’s jut nice to write and reach others or generate further discussion. Good or bad.

I am somewhat flat today because I got my first two assignments back from my course instructor in the junior novel writing course. She thinks I am trying too hard: “Some of your images and effects sound a bit strained.” (In reference to my piece about massaging my Grandpa’s feet.) It’s not the first time I have been told to K.I.S.S (keep it simple silly.) She thinks I use too many dashes and inverted commas but I guess I have a chatty style of writing and I prefer to describe things rather than leave a flat description. Simplicity is difficult for me.

Your friends never tell you if they don’t like your work. It’s a bit like never knocking your mum’s cooking or your dad’s handiwork. Sure it’s a blow to my ego, but I will definitely look at my descriptions and think about how clear they are to others, even if I know exactly how it is suppose to be. Any way every one has the right of reply. Right?

Read The Book Then Watch The Movie

When you go to watch a movie that precedes a book, you expect it to be different. It’s impossible to condense a book into a movie and some parts are inevitably left out. Films are often sensationalised; themes are added and spiced up with romance. Directors generally like the ending to tie into a unified, if not happy, ending. That’s what the audience expects.

I was pleasantly surprised when I saw Tomorrow – When the War Began. Known to cringe at the Aussie accent and our often weak and stereotypical characters, I went away from When the War Began, proud of eight young Australian under-30 actors. Impressed that the issues explored in the book were not overlooked or diluted.

The film tightly followed John Marsden’s story about World War III in Australia and the consequences for a group of teenagers who avoid capture. It cast characters well and tackled the way in which teenagers deal with disaster and war in a sensitive and sometimes oddly humorous way. The portrayal of Chris as a ‘pot head’ and his fascination with the dog: “woof, woof,” was a L.O.L moment. There are also jokes about Ellie’s (main character and narrator) driving. They make you smile because they have just smashed their way through soldiers’ buggies and line of fire in a humble garbage truck. You could question the realism of the situation, but war in your own backyard would be so unrealistic for any teenager that military-like behaviour and survival instincts kicking-in could be a realistic response.

In the book, the impact of war and desertion was carefully explained with empty houses, dead animals, rotting food, burnt out streets, deserted restaurants and the ominous roar of planes and helicopters. All this was amplified in the movie.

There were only a few occasions when I thought, “that didn’t happen in the book.” This creative licence was mainly used to build impact with soldiers nearly capturing or shooting them, when perhaps it didn’t apply to that particular scenario in the book, such as the petrol tanker acquisition.

Marsden also leaves it up to the reader to decide on the origin of the attackers. I assumed the aggressors were Eastern-European or from a country we never knew existed because Marsden mentioned their unrecognisable language. However, the film typecast them as Asians. I question whether Marsden implied this because he mentioned in the book that they spoke in a foreign ‘unrecognisable’ tongue. An Asian dialect would still sound familiar to Australians even if you didn’t understand what was being said.

Just like you can’t judge a book by its cover, don’t judge this movie because it poached its actors from Neighbours and Home & Away. I rate this movie as a 7.5 out of 10 for creating a similar impact that the book has on the reader and not steering too far from the original story. It definitely explores the ‘What If?’ and generates a lot of discussion as the credits roll. 

Literate Privilege

Over two billion of the world’s population cannot read. This is such misfortune, but so is the fact that I am sitting here in my warm slippers, with a steaming hot cup of tea and a full belly while millions scavenge for warmth and sustenance.

I make the most of this luxury of being literate and fortunate and read voraciously: Books, blogs, newsletters, magazines, letters, newspapers and journals. I draw information and enjoyment from all mediums.

There is something ‘spiritual’ about disappearing behind two-up saddle stitch*. Your mind buzzes with language, characters and storylines that pulse through the cover in your hands. You can interpret, imagine and release – not a word needs to be spoken - just a gentle chatter upstairs.

Why is our world so intent on eradicating the physical pleasure of reading a paper book? Do we really need to imbue every hobby with technology? Are e-books really the future?

Currently e-books only take up a one per cent share of total book sales in Australia. It’s expensive to purchase e-readers and even then only certain volumes are available through publishers. The independents publishers have limited access to e-books. REDGroup (owns Borders and Angus Robertson) and Amazon currently have the monopoly on e-reader files.

Some say it’s an environmental responsibility to cut the paper chase, others say it’s just another ‘geek-led phenomenon’ where you must have the latest and greatest gadgets. I believe that Kindle, Kobo, IPad and other e-readers are at present unpractical and limited, like the old cumbersome computers. That’s not to say that it won’t evolve into something mainstream over the next 25 years.

Most of the books on my bookshelf are ones I will read again or encourage my friends to read.  I have a history with the books like my Year 10 novel To Kill a Mockingbird or a favourite, Kane and Abel, one of the most tragic stories of mischance. I can’t imagine having the same attachment to an e-book file.

E-books are cheaper on release and much more portable. Rather than having to drag around the Twilight series you can neatly download all 4 books onto your e-reader. However, there is monotony in a coverless book scrolling Times Roman electronically before your eyes. Don’t we spend enough time at our computers already?

E-books are also prone to damage. A chocolate smear or a dog-eared page adds character to a paper book. I love how a book doubles in volume when the sea wind whips up its pages. An e-book is a much more fragile unit and the reading location would have to be appropriate. No beachside reads for sure.

In 2007, Kevin Rudd stated that Australian children in Years 9-12 would have a computer on their desk. He may have been hundreds of thousands short but he started to bring in a digital age in education that we thought at best was optimistic. Music has also morphed from CD’s into gigabytes on MP3’s. Even the humble book is under threat as we try to ‘techno-vive’ them too.

There is always a place in society for technology, but if we can condense a book into a computerised file, what else will be possible? Will we one day stop the ‘creative chatter’ in our reading minds with a ‘direct e-reader feed’ telling us exactly what the author intends for us to think and experience?

Nothing’s impossible. I just know that I will hold on to the joy of reading a paper book for as long as possible – a privilege for the literate.

*Two-up Saddle Stitch – A special layout for books in order for book pages to be printed in corresponding order on both sides of the paper. It is then stitched accordingly.

The Burgers Are Better

Either, I am a rubbish friend or my Champion the Chicken campaign didn’t have enough lead-time or pardon the pun – legs! I hope it’s the latter!

Officially I’m not getting my $20,000 kitchen for winning the best-voted chicken recipe in the Better Homes & Garden Lenards competition.

Just like a little girl who really believes she will be a fairy one day, I could almost feel the gentle slide of self-closing kitchen drawers and see the glimmer of an organised new kitchen. The burgers are better else where I guess!

Thank you to my friends and family (even the kinder teacher and good old Mrs. Cameron) who managed to negotiate the site and vote in favour of my Red Curry Chicken & Pumpkin Burgers. Perhaps you’ll win an IPad for your efforts?

The cynics are waiting for their daily Lenards chicken promotional material bombardment. Some just wanted the recipe and it is a very tasty. Others couldn’t care if it was worthy for the dog – they voted with loyalty.

I had several ‘unco anonymous’ emails that said it didn’t load (it was just the pictures downloading guys) and it didn’t work (sorry voting ended Monday) and some even said that they got carried away reading other recipes and forgot to vote – at least they’re honest!

It was a social experiment to see if I could drum up support in a few short days, but with a site that wasn’t very user-friendly, the fact that most of my friends don’t Tweet or use Facebook every day – I was losing my social networking edge fast.

In short I should have just sent a text:

“Vote for my Chicken or you’ll be Mince Meat… lenards.com.au

PS. Too late to vote now – I may throw a chicken wing your way if I win a consolation chicken pack!

It's Not What You Know!

That old adage ‘It’s not what you know – it’s who you know, always gets me. Damn! No contacts with any A-List Footballers so I missed the ‘blue carpet’ and there goes my Grand Final box seats tomorrow. I don’t have any friends who can give me ‘mates rates’ at Cadburys. No doctors in the family – plenty of nurses but they can’t write the script. I don’t even have any neighbours with chooks to supply our weekly bacon and eggs breaky. I could have been a famous writer…if I had more than seven followers on my Blog. Not to mention a great publicist for a self published author (hint, hint). Alas, I have a ‘saving ‘Saint’ up my sleeve. She’s no Reiwoldt but she is our Moonie.

It’s fete time and Moonie is at the helm of ‘Trash & Treasure’ (T & T.)* Officially, it’s in two weeks time, but if you have a V.I.P pass like me, little bits and bobs come your way for the month prior when Moonie opens up her account and starts sifting through discarded hobbies and memories.

Someone’s knitting bag, another’s exercise bike, an old suitcase from that special holiday or priceless homemade Christmas gumnut decoration that ‘they could never throw out!’

My hub has a conniption when he sees another package on the end of Moonie’s kitchen table bound for our ‘spare room.’

“Seriously Moonie, don’t show her anything – she’s a serial hoarder.” Lucky he wasn’t around when I was 10 and proudly chose a manual carpet sweeper and Ab-cruncher. I needed a six-pack back then?

Dad described his first lunch lovingly made by Dot** when he was courting Moonie. It was a delicate arrangement of lettuce leaves, wrapped layer upon layer like a Babushka doll and as he peeled the final leaf back, an innocent cold spud awaited. That’s just like my bundle of ‘T & T’ surprises.

Tonight’s cache: A proper corduroy lined Smoker’s Jacket for my costume cupboard (You never know when you have to dress as Hugh Heffner or Henry Higgins;) Some gardening gloves still in their packaging (clearly not a Green Thumb;) A collection of 1950’s Women’s Weekly’s (EBay challenge to make $1300 so I can get my way with charcoal carpet); An old chair to paint and reupholster for my daughter and an old fashion cake tin just because I love all things 'old'.

For the footy final, I may be with the rest of the plebs at ‘whoever has the biggest TV’s house, but my costume cupboard now rivals Lombards. My thorniest roses will be conquered and an old chair will be sat in again - a cake may even be baked. And because of my ‘T & T’ contacts I may yet see our lounge carpeted in charcoal carpet!

If you want to use this opportunity to help me promote your book – it’s not what you know it’s who you know. Just you wait “'Enry Higgins – just you wait!”

*Trash & Treasure is a second hand ‘White Elephant' sale consisting of all pre-loved household goods

** Dot was my dear Grandmother – I miss her Bitter lemon cordial (but of course still have the colourful aluminium cups she served it in. You never know when they may come in handy…)

Battle in the Tresses

We’ve just been battling the trenches – or should I say tresses! It’s irrelevant that my daughter is relaxed and has happily splashed in the bath for ten minutes. She seems to have forgotten the promise of her favourite picture book. The red flag is raised when anyone brandishes a hairbrush – or God forbid a comb – the war begins.

We fight this battle every night, after swimming and before parties. Her hair seems to invite tangles and knots. Despite my hub and I following the basic hair care routine; kelp matted with sand is a good analogy. It’s not surprising the way she pulls hair accessories out at whim, sucks on the ends and lets her hair ‘blow in the breeze’ unrestrained all day.

The only way to ‘tame her mane’ is to spray, hold and yank that brush through. Needless to say the roar gets louder and the stomp more adamant.

The irony is that Ella Kazoo Will Not Brush Her Hair, by Lee Fox & Kathy Wilcox, is one of my daughter’s favourite stories. You guessed it – a picture book that illustrates my daily battle of wills.

Ella Kazoo goes to all lengths to hide herself, or any hair brushing instruments.  Her Mum is clearly frustrated and “sinks to the couch with a mighty big flop.” It gets to a point where Ella’s hair is out of control and she concedes to a haircut. The result is very ‘Ella Kazoo’.

It’s a picture book that makes you laugh and helps your child see the necessity and funny side of hair care. There a subtle lesson in negotiation and the rhyming words aid your child's language development. The colourful illustrations bring this mundane every day chore to life. Ella’s tresses: “slip into some of her dresses…They creep round a chair and they slink round the table…”

I don’t have any answers for the art of ‘de-knotting hair’. I’ve tried different brushes, detangler sprays, lotions and potions: “It still hurts Mum!”

At least I have this book to prove I’m not the only one at war and that she is not the only child in the world who has to have her hair brushed!

Peas & Quiet With Jacko

For my novel writing course, I had to write about an experience with someone from my past that has made a real impression on me. This occasion was the one that came to mind today...

The sun’s eagerness to throw a warm blanket over the kitchen table always gave Jacko* a contented smile. We sat down to lunch with the best mix-match of whalebone cutlery and jumble sale crockery he could find. This morning’s Crab Apple jam had been smeared affectionately on the re-used serviettes. His hand gently patted and enclosed my milky fist, like an old twisted elm tree, criss-crossed with veins, spots and creases.

“You were a little bugger throwing peas over your high-chair,” Jacko proudly explained. “Poor old Dotty on her hands and knees.”

I’d heard this story many times, watched his blue eyes smudged with cataracts relive the ‘good ole’ days. Jacko’s face, 97 years young – like a sheet left in the dryer too long. Lips sucked back into their sebaceous home, still able to pucker into a grin – a few wiry bristles escaping from his chin.

“There’re Magpies, Miners and Sparrows in the mix today,” Jacko chirped about the wildlife in his birdbath. Jacko’s garden was a haven for birds. If I were a bird I’d have visited every day too!

On this particular day, we could have just sat in perfect cadence watching birds, basking in the kitchen, but I decided to take him on a little journey – one literally for the soul.

We shuffled into the spare room. His bed was littered with the daily news. Spread-sheets strewn on every angle. I propped Jacko on the pillows and lay some well-loved towels under his spent legs – broken branches on a compost of scattered autumn loveliness.

Decades of tread had ‘knobbled’ his toes, his nails were yellow, calcified and from “another-life”. Blue badges of time dotted his salami complexion. Ironically his soles were smooth as I glided my fingers along with the peppermint lotion. I massaged giving energy, calm and a moment of grandfather-granddaughter unity.

His feet were like an ancient book; sacred with an encrypted message, as fresh as the day it was penned. His eyelids shut voluntarily, consumed by the moment and overwhelmed by the human touch.

This unusual experience transcended any ‘feel-good moment’ for me at that point – I never take my peas for granted either.

* Jacko was my dear grandfather who lived until aged 100 years (2005). He was born Austin John but was always known to us as Jack or Jacko

A Bird's Eye View - Seagull's Perspective

Footy Fever is taking hold of Melbourne. Chris Judd snared the Brownlow Medal and I like him even more after hearing his comments about the pressures on WAGs* to dress-up and face such scrutiny. He mentioned work and children as great reasons to not “give a continental” about how you looked. That said - Rebecca Twigley scrubbed up all right Juddy. Yes, we all scrutinised her concave tummy in its corset and her twig-like arms – well she can’t be excused with kids yet. God help her if she has to hide her ‘T-bags’ one day!

My team is out of the race and I really should be getting out of the state with all the ‘Wood Peckers’ in force. Tonight, I decided to take a neutral approach with my imaginary piece - A Bird’s Eye View

Collingwood or the Saints? May the best team win!

They’re out there…a whole sea of them Dad, just like us they’re haggling for the first glimpse of the ball. Flapping, calling and punching the air. Squawking colourful team chants - a surge of pride raising their call and lifting their spirits.

That smell of churned turf makes them hungry for the action. Eyes circle the ground, hovering from all angles as bodies clash, legs buckle and teeth gnash.

That mysterious red leather-laced centrepiece shatters the flock as it spirals, twisting and turning through the sky. Every eye is fixed on its descent. Down it falls into bold hands. Saints pounce and feathers fly. Halos are crushed under razor talons.

Up they rise in unison. Out there, singing their song, marking their territory, ready to swoop. They are rivals – yet they are brothers. Giving their passion - giving their souls.

Is it the scent of victory or the thrill of the chase? Could it be the breathless anticipation as the ball negotiates the centre posts? A thunderous roar erupts as flags fly.

Perhaps I’ll stay perched on this roof Dad. Leave the ‘spectating’ up to them – let them do the leaping and screeching. Are these things called ‘fans’ really human Dad?  Dad…?

*WAG – Wife & Girlfriends – usually in reference to celebs

History Never Repeats – But It Could!

In 1969, in an average sized school in Palo Alto, California, Ron Jones thought that he was teaching his class a lesson in history and humanity. It was a social experiment that caused a wave of ‘almost anarchy’.

Morton Rhue dramatises this experiment in The Wave and cleverly builds the tension and breakdown of principles and values.

The teacher (renamed Ben Ross,) had a simple idea to teach his students practically how Germany got swept up in the NAZI regime. His focus was on strength through discipline, strength through community and strength through action. He had many novel ways of demonstrating these points. He called it ‘The Wave.’

Initially there was a buzz of excitement and change and the discipline infiltrated positively into other classes, the football team became more cohesive and even 'loners' became accepted.

This stability soon erupted as chants and salutes were expected and posters were plastered around the school. Many staff were also swept up in the craze and student bullying became rife. There was fear of retribution for those who chose not to follow.

At one point, Ross felt empowered as their leader - one student even offering to be his body guard: “It’s amazing how much more they like you when you make decisions for them.”

When a young boy is beaten, the school is in crisis and Ross needs to end his experiment or ‘The Wave” will crush everyone.

The students need to see their NAZI-like their behaviour for what it is. The bottom-line is that everyone is responsible for their actions: “never allow a group’s will to usurp your individual rights.”

Along the lines of Lord of the Flies, The Tomorrow Series and the Hunger Games, human behaviour can thrive on power and survival and basic values of respect and compassion can erode. Rhue illustrates this through his 107-page book - a social experiment that proves history can repeat itself!

Sam's Rating:  7-10

R.D.O.B.B.I.A.S.

Homemade party fun is best! Who was I kidding? Home + gluten-free cooking + dishes + ‘wired’ little boys on sugar = never again!

We have just been run ragged at my son’s ‘casual’ birthday gathering. It was worse than having to supervise an 18^th party with gatecrashes because these boys just threw themselves at each other from every angle for three hours solid. There were defiant leaps and tackles, like lions taking down gazelles  - and of course the follow-up tears and cries of “he hurt me.”

So today is R.D.O.B.B.I.A.S. – Rostered Day Off Blogging Because I Am Stuffed!

Happy birthday to my beautiful boy in 10 precious minutes, who came ‘bottom first’ into this world 7 years ago!

And I thought I’d need a shower cap to keep my hair dry and looking good for the Mum and newborn baby photo – ignorance is bliss!

I love you son, but Action Sports is definitely booked for next year!

The 'G' Word

“For my birthday I’d like a real horse, some puppies and pink fairy cakes with sparkles”

We laugh – then think don’t be ridiculous – and say, “we’ll see,” and probably end up giving in to that gorgeous and irresistible ‘milk teeth’ grin.

I’m your old fashioned ‘party in the backyard’ Mum and of the 10 parties we’ve put on for our children (combined) none have been done by halves. I like to think they have the intimacy of being ‘home-made’ and unique.

I work with our kids chosen theme (can be difficult when it changes five times in a year) and then collect things intermittently in the 6-month lead up, from costumes and horseshoes, to Barbie pictures and footy paraphernalia.

My son is almost seven (two more sleeps) and all he wanted was a simple party with four friends. He requested McDonalds and a movie. I rubbed my hands with glee at the thought of not cooking or having to make crazy decorations – not to mention tearing around the house with a ‘bog brush’ two minutes before 20 psyched kids make an assault on your house! That was until the 'G' word threatened to bring our plans into disrepute.

‘G’ – being gluten, is in reference to a gluten-free diet - or as my son calls those affected, ‘gluten ferrets’ (said very endearingly and innocently of course.)

Gone are the days of a packet of party pies, bowl of Cheezels and fairy bread triangles. These days you worry someone will have an anaphylactic fit if they eat nuts, get hyperactive from food colours, rashes from eggs or of course a reaction to the big ‘G’. No wonder no one wants to cook!

Out of the five children at the party (the numbers crept up with twins,) three are ‘gluten ferrets,’ therefore a Big Mac is off the cards and there goes my cooking-free party.

Beauty & the Beast and some moon stealing Scrooge movie were the best an offer for seven-year-old boys, so the movie option also got the axe.

Suddenly my ‘oh so simple’ party of five has become a footy clinic (my hub whipped up a 2 metre wide by 1.2 metre high hand-ball board last night,) and BBQ with Angus Beef gluten-free sausages, salad without dressing, meringues and popcorn cakes. I’ve even been coerced into hosting a sleep over because the movie choice was so poor. All thanks to a couple of ‘gluten ferrets!'

Seriously, it can be very dangerous for Coeliacs to consume gluten in any form. I appreciate the need to prepare and serve food in a gluten free zone and some of my dear friends or their children endure this condition - but surely 3 in 5 at a party isn’t normal odds?

God help me when I get to the (now) ‘puppy party’ and I can’t make those sparkly puppy fairy cakes – I better get myself some good gluten-free party cook books!

** Thanks to my dear friend Ms Angel who helped me with my popcorn cakes that are going to form the number ‘7’ (see pic above).

I Feel Pretty…

Original Broadway 1957

“I feel pretty…and witty and gay. And I pity –" anyone staying at home tonight while I go to watch the West Side Story spectacular.

This musical Romeo & Juliet story was penned in 1955 and traces the street gang feuds of the 1930’s in L.A. The story is set in New York and is based on the volatile relationship between the Jets (whites) and the Sharks(Puerto Rican).

Love has no boundaries when a Jet (Tony) falls for the sister of a Shark (Maria). At the height of this street battle, lies lead to death, ultimately bringing down the division between the two rival gangs, as they carry the slain together.

There are parallels between the torrid relationship of Shakespeare’s Montagues and Capulets and the Jets and Sharks. Jerome Robbins bases the story on this conception. Lenard Burnstein writes the music and the book is written by Arthur Laurents.

You only need to refresh the delightful Shakespearean language from Romeo and Juliet to see how Robbins drew the parallels:

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet"
 William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, 2.2


"A greater power than we can contradict Hath thwarted our intents."


William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, 5.3


"For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo."
 William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, 5.3

"See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! 
O that I were a glove upon that hand, 
that I might touch that cheek!"
 William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, 2.2

I adore musicals and have proudly seen at least these following 23:

1. Les Miserables (x 3 times)
2. The Sound of Music
3. Rent
4. Phantom of the Opera
5. Little Night Music
6. Oliver
7. Jesus Christ Super Star
8. Billy Elliot
9. Miss Saigon
10. Jersey Boys
11. Boy from Oz (Hugh Jackman version)
12. The Wizard of Oz
13. Huckleberry Finn
14. Mama Mia
15. Crazy for you (25 times when I worked as an usher at the State Theatre)
16. Hair
17. Peter & the Wolf
18. The Lion King
19. Guys & Dolls
20. Shane Warne the Musical
21. Beauty & The Beast
22. Into the Woods
23. The Full Monty

 Add to that, Westside Story tonight and Mary Poppins booked for November and you could say I was a musical junkie!

What’s On Your Mind? Cunning Chicken

Call me a cynic, but when someone announces they’re about to have a glass of wine; the kids are "feral;" or they are about to take a Zumba class – does the whole electronic world have to know?

I resented the invention of the mobile phone and telecommunications’ ability to stalk you wherever you went. Call-waiting infuriated me – wait your turn please! Facebook was a novelty for a year until 1000 applications, games ‘What’s on your mind?’ and pokes too many tipped me over the cyber edge. Don’t start me on Twitter, or should I say: “Suck on that fag***s” (courtesy of our not-so eloquent Olympic Swimmer, Stephanie Rice*.

I said it early on in my 30-day blogging career that social media is the foundation of P.R. My true purpose of this blog is not to promote my writing, or me, but to promote the concept of publicising a self-published author. There are ways and means, but I have to set the scene – show a prospective author that I understand writing, live and breathe books and have a creative edge that stands out from ‘the suits’ in their swish P.R agencies on three zero figures (sounding cynical again?)

Recently, I have used my ‘social media’ networks to champion my Red Curry Chicken and Pumpkin Burgers recipe at http://lenards.com.au/. There is a competition where the best chicken recipe with the most votes wins a $20,000 kitchen. Now if you’ve seen my current ‘cooking hole’ you’d appreciate my determination. I’d also be happy with an iPad for my efforts  - or even a Lenards Chicken Pack!

I hit lots of the social networking sites. I put a link on Facebook**, invited people to my Champion the Chicken cause event. I Tweeted fluff about my Red Curry Chicken and Pumpkin Burgers. I even targeted individual Facebook Walls. If my brother can get 120 mates, then I can surely squeeze a few votes out of them? I haven’t tried Linked-In yet but there’s still time. Last, but not least, is my dear blog! Yes, I’m a cynic of social media – but cunning!

 Don’t forget to vote:  http://lenards.com.au/ -  Red Curry Chicken and Pumpkin Burgers under Win iPad then Other (last self-plug today, I promise)

*Twittered by Rice in relation to the Wallabies beating the Springboks in the Tri-Nations.

Allegiance to All Books – Sawn Off Tales Book Review

I used to be loyal to one author at a time. In my childhood it was Dr Seuss and Mr. Men books. As a junior, Roald Dahl hooked me with his incredible imagination and hilarious character descriptions. The BFG is one of my all-time favourite books (perhaps that’s why I am such a good belcher?)

As a teenager, I remember going through a Judy Bloom stage. I was terrified Mum would find my borrowed copy of Forever (the infamous sex scene) and coping with the embarrassment of her knowing I had ‘one of those’ type of books. In hindsight, Mum wouldn’t have cared less.

As a young adult, Lurlene McDaniel was an author I was fascinated with. She confronted and explored illness, death and relationships. In my 20’s, I enjoyed reading Bryce Courtney’s novels in sequence. The 30’s have unleashed me and I read adult, junior, fiction, non-fiction - anything and everything!

Sawn-off Tales is a brilliant collection of left-of-centre stories that show you how incredibly creative the human mind can be – especially David Gaffney’s!

To give you a taste I have pulled out some striking sentences:

“I could see through him like a cheap nightie”

“Metallic snare ripped the air…bleeping gnashing metal beast”

“Words ‘nudging up against each other”

“Her house had huge bay windows like a comforting bosom into which I sank’

‘A thousand parallel existences, each nourishing the other’

There are stories about young employees ‘cracking onto’ each other by joining ‘Weetos’ cereal together to form names and squeezing cheesy sauce messages on the splash glass. Another talks about a hairdresser knowing you’ve had a “tight arse” haircut since he last cut your hair. There’s a completely bizarre one about sharing a toilet seat with a stranger who complains about society being ‘stand-offish’. A man who finds solace sleeping inside his large empty wardrobe and another who tries to follow a dating guide and ends up wearing at-shirt that says ‘dirty bastard’ in Swahili. There’s even some computer server operator who gets a thrill from shutting down servers each night.

Some stories seem like they could be linked and there is an underlying theme of affairs and being caught in the act, or being ignorant of such a misdemeanor.

There are stories of forgetful birthday card givers, phone sex callers, sick-leave addicts and marginalized people who should be in the zoo (implying that’s how we treat them). Gaffney takes simple concepts and twists them into crazy tales of deceit, destruction, obsession and wit.

Some stories made me think Gaffney is disturbed, others only human, a few crazy, and mostly - he’s just bloody hilarious!

It even makes you think up quirky stories of your own like painting your house fluorescent pink to piss of the neighbours. Counting how many red cars drive up and down your street. Getting high on some foul smell (like wet dog) or stealing good junk mail  (like the KFC and DVD vouchers) from other people’s letterboxes. See how mutant the brain can become! No, I haven’t tried any of the above!

Sawn-off Tales is not a book I would normally choose off the shelf, but I enjoyed the simple (each tale approximately 2 pages) complexity of this collection.

Luckily my English-born hub helped me to pick up little English words, places and abbreviations.

I give it an 8 for readability and 10 for originality!

What twisted thoughts can you create into a story?

PS It may take two hours to read but it takes another two hours to scrawl notes and stop thinking about each story (give yourself a couple of nights at least).

Ubiquitous Me

UBIQUITOUSUBIQUITOUSUBIQUITOUS

UBIQUITOUSUBIQUITOUSUBIQUITOUS

UBIQUITOUSUBIQUITOUSUBIQUITOUS

“I have a great book, it’s just a short one and brilliantly written…you’ll read it in a couple of hours,” said Mrs. Jingle. I replied: “Yeah, sure. No worries!” That was Tuesday…

Meanwhile, my daughter asked me to draw her a chipmunk, my son needed help with his readers, the dog hinted at her dinner, while mine was churning through the pasta machine. God only knows why I had to be so organic on a frantic night like that. Birthday cakes were baking, books for the business were overdue (sorry Mrs Mac & Mrs B you won’t be impressed,) and my blog entry beckoned.

I find my two-hour window (if the sleep fairies aren’t stomping on my eyelids) is well into the night when bedtime ritual, dinner and dishes are done. I’m often snuggled up in bed opening my book at midnight!

This latest ‘easy read’ is called Sawn Off Tales – a series of short stories by David Gaffney. He must be English because there are lots of English references and colloquialisms like B & Q and Asda and footy is soccer of course.

I read half of it in the car on the way to Healesville for breakfast with a good friend. Meanwhile my companion was swooning with carsickness. I probably made her feel giddier by reading.

Each tale is two pages long and very quirky indeed. Some of the scenarios are so bizarre, like stealing someone’s full shopping trolley (containing items on your list) to avoid having to shop. Lots of “caught in the acts” and just plain weird, ‘what was that about?’ stories.

I have 12 pages to go (or six stories) and this basic over-view will have to do for tonight. I’ve taken notes so I don’t forget the other 20 or so stories I have already read.

I need to be ubiquitous (great word that – look it up) again and get myself dressed for a night at Kofi Bean (great Moroccan restaurant), heat the risotto for the ‘stay at homes’, get the clothes off the clothes horse that are well toasted in their heated alcove, check emails, ask my hub about his day and get the pajamas ready on beds – all in 15 minutes. Here we go again…

Stand by for more Sawn Off ‘22’ Tales on Monday.

UBIQUITOUSUBIQUITOUSUBIQUITOUS

UBIQUITOUSUBIQUITOUSUBIQUITOUS

UBIQUITOUSUBIQUITOUSUBIQUITOUS

Magic of Puff

Puff the Magic Dragon resonates in my childhood and has recently been read, sung (albeit a little off key,) and celebrated at my daughter’s kinder. I am thrilled to review a book that brought back such fond memories.

There have been lots of misinterpretations of Puff the Magic Dragon (the song). Some say that it is full of references to marijuana: “Jackie Paper,” “autumn mist”, obviously “Puff”, “green scales,” and Honalee (Hanalei) is apparently renowned for its marijuana plantations*.

The ‘potheads’ have every right to claim the song, even if the “scales” reference is a little far fetched. As for me, I just see the intended meaning of a young boy, growing up and losing his innocence. A child on the other hand sees themes of adventure, friendship, and love. That’s how is should be!

Dad sang it to me when I was ‘knee high to a grasshopper’ and I in-turn sang it to my kids, especially my son (singing’s more of a novelty for the first-born.) I even used it as my audition song for selection into my Year 8 musical, Grease, (I think it was really my cute 12 year old freckles that did it!)**

The picture book has the original lyrics, with Puff the loveable, but brave, dragon and his special friend Jackie Paper, coming to life in the delicate and mythical illustrations by Eric Puybaret.

The magic of Puff’s adventures and the inevitable end to his friendship with Jackie: “A Dragon lives forever, but not so little boys and girls” (slight politically correct alteration from the original,) are explored. However, unlike the sad conclusion to the song, where Puff retreats back in to his lonely cave: “Green scales fell like rain,” the illustrations paint a new friendship with another young playmate for Puff.

This book is bound with history, written by Peter Yarrow (from Peter, Paul & Mary) who originally sung this classic and Lenny Lipton (wrote original poem and accidentally left it in a type-writer). Peter and his daughter Bethany also feature on a CD attached to the book.

What is the CD like? Put it this way, Hamish & Andy aren’t getting much playtime in my car at present!

If you have a young child, the spirit of this picture book will lift them. It’s a real coup for Koala Books and an absolute joy to have in my home again.

*See songfacts.com for more details or interpretations (these do not necessarily represent my views)

** PS. I know it wasn’t my foghorn voice that got me into Grease!

Forgetful Book Borrower

FreeFoto.com

Missing Book!

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini

Loaned to a friend out of the goodness of my heart.

Approximately 3 years old with a sepia cover of a young boy peeking around a corner.

It has a few characteristic dog-eared pages and little bits of colored paper sticking out (like kites funnily enough,) where I have marked pages with interesting descriptions.

Perhaps you have taken your time to read it?

Maybe, it has been accidentally filed in your own bookcase?

You could have even loaned it to another friend, so you’re not really to blame after all?

Happy for it to be returned anonymously and in any condition (impartial to a chocolate smudge or tea ring on the cover – it’s all part of reading hey?)

Would be overjoyed to see it in my bookcase again.

Send my Kite (Runner) home please…and if anyone has Mrs. Jingle’s copy of Tully, she would like it back as well!

$$ Reward for any information regarding the forgetful book borrower $$

How to Pick a Great Book Club Book – My Style

I’m not officially in a book club because I hate the idea of having to read a certain book by a set time. Instead, I’ve joined a breakaway group called Bookalicious and we share and discuss books casually and intermittently. It doesn’t matter that we're not meeting officially  - or comparing our cake making skills at the same time!

I’ve heard on the 'book club grapevine' that some book club selections have been lacking in the ‘wow’ factor of late. A few members I have chatted to are asking “why did we choose that book?”


It’s impossible to choose a book that everyone in your book club can connect with, but because it is a monthly gathering, and in many cases a self-fulfilling ritual, this book selection is crucial.


Forget Oprah’s Book Club and Women’s Weekly Great Reads. There is a lot of influence from publishers pushing their books, with contacts in the media. Look up sites like Amazon and the Book Depository. Type in a book you have loved and it will tell you other titles, which readers who have purchased your book, have also bought. You start to see a pattern.


There’s a website called greatreads.com where you can also tap into what your friends are reading and recommending. Only trust friends who have interests in ‘quality’ books.


If you are not happy with this method, why not read a classic? Everyone can revisit a book like Harper Lee’s, To Kill a Mockingbird, her first and only published book.


Last resort would be to boycott book club and this will send a clear message that you refuse to read a book you don’t enjoy. Before you do this remember, you’re always going to select a few ‘lemons’ and it’s fun to rip apart a book (deemed as such) now and again.


This all said, nothing beats finishing a book that has taken your breath away, challenged the norm or been written so eloquently – especially if you have a cup of tea in hand and like-minded friends around you. Good luck and happy reading!


Here are my suggestions:


Mocking Jay by Suzanne Collins (you have to read Hunger Games & Catching Fire first)


Three Cups of Tea - Greg Mortenson & David Oliver Ralin


The Shadow of the Wind – Carlos Ruis Zafon


The Elegance of the Hedgehog – Muriel Barbury

Dad - My "Shiner" Light!

It used to annoy me that everyone claims to have the ‘best dad in the world!” It couldn’t be possible when I have the best dad in the world!

No-one makes a cup of tea so lovingly, or spent hours fine-tuning the sharpest affirmative speech for school debating. The steady supply of meals on wheels and the thoughtful and encouraging comments. The hours of free labour on every home I have lived in, baby-sitting, nurturing and entertaining my kids and helping in any way he can. Dirko (Dad), quite often whips up a meal at no notice – gourmet standard! No-one could be better than my Dad!

For the last seven years, I have also shared Father’s Day with my husband who is beautiful, creative and selfless with our kids. The ‘splodgy’ handprint cards have been replaced by gorgeous descriptive scrawls or detailed artwork. But this Father’s Day (apart from the heartfelt messages and drawings,) my youngest daughter gave her Dad – her ‘shining’ light – the ultimate knock-out gift – a black eye!

Lamenting the loss of our favourite football team, my hub had consumed a few cheeky beers. In a relaxed state he kissed the kids goodnight and our daughter sat up as he reached down  - heads colliding and tears spilling.

Thankfully, she hasn’t got a mark on her. As for my hub – he looks like he’s auditioning for a ‘drag queen’ role, with his purple accentuated eyelid.

I can’t deny that there was a huge expletive from him when it happened, but my hub took it on the chin (or eye) just like a doting father.

Bless our little poppet when she piped up: “It was an accident wasn’t it Dad? We were both brave because you’re the best dad in the world.”

There’s that claim again and guess what? She is absolutely right! A dad, any dad, is not really the best in the world, rather your world and to you that is the world!

My Dad is the best dad in my world and my hub is the best dad in our children’s world (and rightly so) – and definitely their ‘shiner’ light!

No! Stop! Don't!

There is a group of 18 intellectually challenged adults who have given me a great sense of purpose and many a laugh over the last few years – not to mention immunity to human gas! If only they knew how much of an impact they have on me.

Down at Fort Stream*, Mrs F and I have tried to impart some very basic self defence skills, aiming to keep it fun and interactive. Preventing some of the 18 students from sitting down (some of them are heavy and hard to get back up,) or having a toilet break every 5 minutes, can be a challenge. Most days we have them focused and ready for a bout with Rocky Balboa. You can hear intermittent screams of: “No! Stop! Don't!” Or their variation “Get off me you twit!”

A week ago we were told that the ‘powers that be’ had cut the program because students had to move on to other activities and they didn’t have the ‘numbers’ any more. Apparently ten-pin bowling and meditation also got the axe. The new electives are predominantly stationary ones and while being fun are not about being active and teaching you one of the greatest gifts – the gift of self defence.

It was a two hour commitment that, after a quarter tank of petrol, our pay left enough for a coffee and cake. We did it because it felt great to empower these (often) marginalised adults. These adults, I was slightly apprehensive about meeting when I first started, became characters I respect and admire.

There’s Garry, a face full of freckles and a grin ear to ear that pumps out his push-ups. Jane who has a quick wit, and even once, a ‘spit’ (luckily I wasn’t the recipient.) Barb sweats profusely with her five sit-ups, but gives her all. Ella has a mean stomp that wouldn’t kill a butterfly, but has so much cheeky intent it makes me smile. Nick is immaculately dressed and is a true gentleman who loves using his elbows. Carol likes to waffle on about any ‘life lesson’ she has learnt, but when she cried after receiving a certificate, saying: “I am so happy,” I almost cried too. Tom can be irritating with his counting but he enjoys learning and is no trouble. If Ray has had her “happy pills” she is in great form but if she is unsettled, she’s like a bull ready to charge and don’t mention her hair whatever you do. Antonio just smiles but maybe he is learning something. Katie loves a cuddle and for you to “wait”. Tracey kicks with power and giggles when she ‘drops one’. Angela is so proud of herself when she grasps a skill. Patricia, in her 'jewels', has excellent retention. Paddy is a great ball of energy with the loudest: No! Stop! Don't!” Julie likes you to move her arms and legs for her. Marg is the oldest but one of the most committed and very tough mentally. Mark is a character who loves to wear costumes and doesn’t mind a bit of close contact with the ladies (especially Mrs F and I). I saved Sara for last because she is the one I am saddest for – she greets us at the door each week, boosts our ego 10-20 times a lesson from “I love your earrings” to “you are the best instructors ever”. She’s even going to ask for some boxing gloves for Christmas. I will genuinely miss Sara.

I have to mention the staff as well. Don’t worry there are only three key ones. There’s Barbie who is incredibly supportive of the program and very involved in the teaching. I am disappointed I didn’t have a camera when she wore her Lycra leotard as a joke. Rob keeps everything light and loves to joke and toughen up the students, but does a good job at getting everyone involved. Then there’s Greg who rarely misses a class, knows every student’s strengths and weaknesses and has such a gentle approach.

Some staff members say they will fight (another pun) to bring it back next year but I have already been lucky enough to have had this experience and see the joy when a “Student of the Week” gets to take a lap of honour.

If every student remembers to keep their hands up and walk away from taunts  – our lessons will not be in vain. I was “roughed up” (backpacking 1996,) and I'm passionate about preparing everyone for the improbable. It probably won’t happen, but if it does - fight back and scream: “No! Stop! Don't!”

PS We were given a beautiful card and bunch of Snapdragons at our last class – very touching!

*Fort Stream (where I taught self-defence skills,) is an alias for a not-for-profit organisation that provides services and teaches life skills to intellectually disabled adults. All the names of the students have been changed to protect their identity.