What’s In My Head?

A memory that has become a family tradition.

Advertisements

I love a good family story or tradition, especially one that gets etched into the conversation patterns and banter for years to come. A moment of humour or a funny experience becomes part of who we are, both individually and collectively.

One of those stories half belongs to our great friend, Lindsay. He is a super nice person, and we’ve been friends for at least twenty years.

On one particular occasion maybe fifteen years ago, maybe more, he and I were outside doing some work on the farm that my husband and I were living on, and where Lindsay was a regular and most welcome visitor. I can’t remember what were talking about, but I remember this part of the conversation vividly.

We laughed. We told my husband the story. And it stuck. We still “do the routine” at least once a week. It honestly never gets old.

Monday was one of those days. After the lines were said and the laughter was had, I thought for a while, as I have often done before, about how clever a comeback it was.

I also thought about exactly what I am full of. It wasn’t much of a surprise to me when those thoughts began to turn into a poem. That’s what my thoughts do.

You can read the poem titled ‘Full’ at WordyNerdBird Writes.

A Glimpse Into A Writer’s Mind.

Today’s instalment of ‘truth is stranger than fiction’.

When I was growing up, there was a girl with whom I was friends most of the time. Our parents were friends, too, which meant that we saw each other outside of school and church activities. She left school two years before I did, and I only saw her briefly a handful of times between then and when I left Sydney in 1989. We have some friends in common, but I haven’t ever pursued reconnecting in any way.

2016-02-11 21.54.33-1At 3.47am today, my brain woke me up to remind me that her birthday was March 2nd.

A One-Off Inscription.

There is more truth than most people realise in the jokes about authors killing people off in their books.

Yesterday I signed a paperback copy of my latest book for my best friend. I have written something personal and unique to her and our friendship in her copy of every one of my books.

Yesterday’s effort was by far my favourite.

2018-09-22 13.40.06

You should understand that this is not a promise I’m willing to make to just anyone. Anyone who has read ‘A Poet’s Curse’, for example, will have worked that out very quickly.

Jokes are frequently made about authors putting people in a book and killing them, but most don’t realise just how satisfying and therapeutic that can be.

Oh, we change the name and some minor details, but the important thing is that we know who we’re finishing off, even if the rest of the world doesn’t. And you know, it is important to conceal the true identities of our victims because, in the end, nobody wants it to backfire or get ugly.

I have, in fact, had a number of people ask me if a particular poem or story was about them. Rather than confirming or denying anything, I’ve gone the “self-examination” route. Each of them received the same answer: “If you think that’s a possibility, I suggest you to take a long, hard look at yourself and how you treat people. It might be time to do some repairs.

As an author, I can have my macabre little cake and eat it, too. And as an extra reward for good behaviour, I get to keep my best friend. Bonus!

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way Home from Melbourne…

Just one of those unexpected things that make great memories.

My friend and colleague Kath and I went to the city yesterday for a professional development seminar.

As it finished late in the afternoon, we decided to break the 230km trip home with dinner. We stopped at a place we both enjoy, and had a great burger and fries, and some brilliant onion rings.

2018-08-07 18.14.39

Leaving the restaurant, we waited at the lights outside to cross the street. That little red man stayed red for ages, and we must have stood there for at least five minutes waiting for the lights to change. As it turns out, we’re not such law-abiding citizens as all that: it was cold, so in the end we just crossed because there was nobody around. We were expecting the lights to change when we were half-way across, but they didn’t.

I made jokes about him being a very angry red man who was no longer doing anything for anyone.

Kath made jokes about the next car to come along sitting at the lights, which by then would have changed, and the driver shaking their fist at waiting for a red light when there was nobody wanting to cross the street.

2018-08-08 08.07.50

Our levity changed direction a little when we got to the car, and found that the car parked behind us had been parked really badly, which has been a pet peeve of mine lately, because I know you actually have to learn to park a car properly to get your licence. Having snapped a photo for posterity, and possibly for Instagram, we got into the car and pulled into the street for the drive home. There was no traffic to merge with – just us, so that was easy.

As we approached that very same set of traffic lights, they were still green. And right before we got there, they changed.

We sat in the car waiting for that red light for another five minutes. And we laughed and we laughed, because we’re English teachers, and we understand irony.

 

Opposites Attract.

This is what happens when you marry a book nerd.

We live in a small town where my husband knows absolutely everyone.

This morning as we drove down our road, he commented on a block of land that sold recently.

Him: Somebody named Finch bought that block.

Me: Was it Atticus?

Him, suddenly doubtful of his local knowledge: I don’t know.

Me: Never mind. Probably wasn’t.

This is what happens when you don’t read anything but live with a book nerd. Poor bloke.

Preparation: Who Needs It?

There’s always at least one in every group who doesn’t follow instructions.

Last Friday, I gave my History class an essay question half a week in advance of their assessment task.

They were to prepare a plan and notes to use while writing the essay in class this week. I advised them that they could use their handwritten notes and their textbook while writing, but they were not allowed the use of any devices. All the information about the task was given to them in writing as well as my explaining everything in class.

I expected that today, when the students came to class, they would be ready to start. Happily for me, most were.

And then, because nothing ever goes smoothly, this happened:

Student A: “Can we type this?”

Me: No. No devices.

Student B: “My notes are at home. Can I use my iPad?”

Me: “No. No devices.”

Student C: “Can you write the question on the board please?”

Me: “I gave you the question on Friday.”

Student C: Yeah but I didn’t write it down.

Me: That makes me happy.
Bemused, I wrote the question on the board.

Student B: “What page is it in the textbook?”

Me: “Do you mean the pages you were supposed to read and study last week?”

Student B: “Yeah.”

Me: Speechless, I allow The Eyebrow to speak for me.

All the kids except two commenced writing. Students B and D, though? They’re still reading the textbook.

Mind Blown.

Mind Blown: A story from my Year 10 history classroom.

The classroom was quiet although full of students; the only sounds were made by a page turning, someone typing, or the occasional movement of a foot on the carpet as students worked individually on the task that had been set for them.

 

One boy sniffed noisily. I glanced at him, but he was too focused on his work to make eye contact with me. At the back of the room, another boy sniffed, gaining more traction so that his friend had done. I could almost feel the lump of whatever that was in my throat, and my stomach lurched. The boy at the front of the room sniffed again.

 

“Okay, guys… the sniffing has to stop. Did you know they make these squares of fabric called handkerchiefs, that you can use to clear your nose? They even make disposable ones, called tissues, so you don’t have to deal with them or their contents again later.”

 

“Sorry, Mrs V,” said the young man at the front desk, looking suitably repentant.
tissues-1000849_960_720.png

 

“Wait!” said another young fellow. “A tissue is a disposable hanky?”

 

“Well, yes.” I grinned at the obvious surprise on his face.

 

“I’ve never thought of it that way before!” Caught in the spell of his ‘penny drop’ moment, his eyes were wide and his smile was one of discovery and wonder.

 

“So, it’s your mind that has been blown, not your nose?”

 

He nodded, laughing along with his classmates, then returned to his work as industry and silence once again took custody of the classroom.

 

I really enjoy teaching these kids. They’re pretty great.
And they seem to genuinely appreciate the fact that I am a comic genius.

 

A Conversation Between A Romance Lover and a Horror Writer.

Me? Writing romance? Not anytime soon.

Today I commented to a friend that I’d written a story for Valentine’s Day.

She smiled and said, “Oh Jo! I didn’t really pick you for the romantic author type! How lovely!”

I laughed. “Just because it’s a Valentine’s Day story, doesn’t mean it’s romantic.”

black stone heart

She looked at me as though she were waiting for a punch line.

“No, really. This is not a romantic story. This is a story for anyone who has had their heart broken, who knows the sting of rejection—” I shrugged.

“It doesn’t end well, does it?” she asked sadly.

“That depends entirely on your perspective!” I replied.

 

If you’re one of the anti-Valentine’s Day crew, or if you just like creepy stories, check out my chilling little tale: A Curious Valentine’s Day. It’s free to read at WordyNerdBird Writes.

 

WiHM9-GrrrlLogoWide-BR-L

 

Facing the Beast.

Defiant, I stood as tall as I could and faced the huge beast.

Haunted reading room spooks teens
Defiant, I stood as tall as I could and faced the huge beast.

It met my bravado with derision. As time wore on, it was only getting uglier and more insistent.

With all the strength and conviction I could muster, I growled, “As intimidating as you are, remember this: I created you, and I will defeat you.”

And my TBR pile laughed and laughed.

What’s on your list?

What’s on your list?

I’d love to hear your ideas!

Human Girl Person Silly Blond Making A Face Child
I just found that I have a follower on Twitter called “Buy Followers”.
 
Weird.
I haven’t bought that one, or any other.

 
Which leads me to wonder… why would someone even bother?
In a world full of things I *would* buy if I had the cash, followers on social media isn’t going to be among them.
The top three things on my permanent list of things I’d like to buy are:

1. Another, longer trip to Canada.
2. Books. More books.
3. Another Labrador puppy.

What’s on your list?
I’d love to hear your ideas!