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#AtoZchallenge Blogging challenges Writing

E is for ’embrangle’

So it’s Day 5 of the #AtoZchallenge, where bloggers around the world publish daily during April, based on a consecutive letter of the alphabet, with Sundays off to make up the 26 days.

I’ve chosen ‘Word of the day’ for my 2017 theme, and Day 5 means the letter ‘E’.

There are so many ‘E’ words that I discovered recently: educe; effulge; embay; embrangle; emolliate; emplace; etiolate; evert; excoriate; excorticate; excurse; execrate; exscind; exsect; exsert; exsiccate; extirpate; extravasate.

I mean seriously – how cool are they! Just let me elaborate, elucidate and – maybe? – educate, and enchant…

educe: to draw forth or bring out; elicit; develop

effulge: to shine brilliantly; to send forth (beams of light)

embay: to enclose in or as in a bay; surround

embrangle: to confuse, entangle, perplex

emolliate: to soften. To render effeminate

emplace: to place or position

etiolate: to cause (a plant) to whiten by excluding light; to become blanched or whitened, as when grown without sunlight

evert: to turn outwards, or inside out

excoriate: to strip off or remove the skin from. To flay verbally; denounce; censure

excorticate: to remove the mark, husk, or outer covering from

excurse: to go on an excursion. To digress; wander

execrate: to detest utterly; abhor; abominate. To curse; imprecate evil upon. To utter curses

exscind: to cut out or off

exsect: to cut out

exsert: to thrust out

exsiccate: to dry or remove the moisture from, as a substance. To dry up, as moisture

extirpate: to remove utterly; destroy totally; exterminate; do away with. To pull up by the roots; root up (kinda reminds me of John Davis ‘manuscript’ Frain’s #AtoZchallenge this year!)

extravasate: to force out from the proper vessels, as blood, especially so as to diffuse through the surrounding tissues. [in Geology:  to pour out molten or liquid matter from the earth as lava from a vent, water from a geyser, etc]

So – did I manage it? Did I ’embrangle’ you, dear reader? Or did I effulge? Excurse? Or was it more of an ‘educing’ that I was doing?

And would you use any of these words in your conversations today?

🙂

Have an enchanting one, dear reader!
— KRidwyn

 

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#blog12daysxmas Blogging challenges family anecdotes momentous events Writing

Six years on

It’s the beginning of a New Year. An auspicious time to make new resolutions and new commitments; to gently blow the burgeoning flame of new hopes until they become habits… well, that’s the general idea, anyway.

This time of year also reminds me of the time I started blogging.

December 25, 2010.

It was for a blogging challenge started by @FiFYI -#blog12daysxmas – and I’d thought, “Well, why not?!”

And that was that.

Day 1. I’d decided to be literal and write a post a day on the Christmas carol ‘The 12 days of Christmas’.

Day 2. Two turtle doves and questions of ‘devotion’…

Day 3. And I’m stumped as to why we have mundane hens on the list. French ones, at that.

Day 4. My humble thoughts on the differences between blackbirds and crows, and how many blackbirds might comfortably fit into a pie…

Day 5. And I bet you thought that the ‘five gold rings’ meant jewellery, didn’t you!

Day 6. Six geese a-laying. That’s a lot of eggs between now and the end of the song. And a lot of ankle-biting, too!

Day 7. Swimming swans are given by the True Love to the singer… and several hundred years later, the family and I escape floodwaters and arrive home to relish the feeling of dry clothes and mud-free sheets 😀

Day 8. The singer is given eight maids a-milking, and I ruminate on what it is that defines a person.

Day 9. Nine ladies dancing – and a quick tally of what the singer now has at her house. It’s getting crowded in there!

Day 10, and I’m in awe of the sheer organisational ability of this ‘True Love’. Honestly, it’s incredible!

Day 11. In which bagpipes enter the cacophony, and I speculate on what the ‘True Love’ may actually have been devoted to… and

Day 12. The inevitable conclusion to the challenge; and one in which I find my opinions of the carol quite at variance to what I thought I would be thinking!

I always find it fun, going back and re-reading stuff I’d written years before. Remembering what it was like: Hubby and I stranded in our caravan at 1770 with three very young ones, no bread, little milk, and no spare petrol, in the middle of the craziest floods so far this century. Remembering how my opinions of the song changed dramatically, but my desire to blog, and my love for writing, deepened.

Well, that was a look back. Now it’s January 2nd, 2017, and it’s time to look ahead. Here’s hoping that the coming week is a brilliant one, for you and me both, dear reader!

Yours,

KRidwyn

Categories
Blogging challenges Life momentous events teaching Work Writing

Where I’ve been…

So my last post on this blog was over a month ago. It feels like longer.

I’d posted just prior to a weekend away with Hubby on Moreton Island. I was hoping it would be fantastic; it was. The snorkelling; the dolphin feeding; the quad-biking; the all-you-can-eat buffet meals; the amazing weather and luxurious accomodation; the 3.23am evacuation due to another hotel resident setting off a fire alarm because he attempted to cook food inside his kettle… it was all memorable.

And that marked the beginning of November.

November is the worst month of the year for music teachers, did you know? It’s end of the school year here in Australia, which means the usual end-of-year marking / reporting chaos. Add to that, the same end-of-year ‘let’s showcase what your children have learned to play on their instruments’ performance chaos, and – of course – all of the instrumental marking / reporting deadlines to co-ordinate. Don’t forget, there’s a class of graduating students who – naturally – get their own set of dedicated performances to prepare for etc. And then, just for fun and because It’s November and because the music teacher doesn’t have enough to do, let’s add in a Christmas carols event or several.

And then we all sit back and watch the poor music teacher’s head explode.

Because that’s – generally speaking – what happens.

Hence my taking a month hiatus from this blog. But this year, there was another reason as well; and this other reason meant that instead of just the month off, I needed an extra two weeks on top of that: I changed jobs.

Yay!

Yes, I am no longer the Music co-ordinator at St. Paul’s Lutheran Primary School. Instead, I have returned to the world of Prep to Year 12 education, with the role of Head of Middle School at Caloundra Christian College.

And boy! Am I stoked about that!

(Just in case you hadn’t picked up on that, from the excessive use of exclamation points in this blog post… sorry about that, by the way…)

Anyway, I’m back blogging again. Yes, the plan is to blog weekly, every Monday morning, my time.

And who knows, but that perhaps I shan’t need the month’s blog hiatus next November?!

See you next week!

KRidwyn

PS And have yourselves a very merry Christmas too! 😀

Categories
my novel-in-progress places to visit Writing

My favourite #writingplace

This is my favourite spot in the whole world at the moment. It’s on the beach, the very northern tip of Bribie Island, in Queensland (Australia) looking across the passage to Caloundra.

Just now, the weather’s warm enough to be perfect too!

img_2439

The cherubs play happily and I get to sit and write.

Bliss!

Do you have a favourite #writingplace? What do you love about it?

 

 

Categories
Christianity random scribblings Random thoughts Writing

Possible pacing problems?

And how’s the alliteration in that title for you 😀

So I wrote a 100 word story last weekend for the flash fiction contest on Janet Reid’s blog (literary agent extraordinaire, QOTKU and now agent-wrangler at New Leaf Literary and Media) with the five prompt words: dog, horse, proud, spirit, and herd.

I must admit, I was pretty happy with my entry.

But nary a mention. Nada. Zip. (Well, being awarded a zip might have been nice. Instead there was not even the sound of a lonely cricket…)

And casting my eye over the story again, I was wondering if perhaps pacing could be the issue. (Assuming, of course, that it’s not the overtly Christian content, the fact that it’s written from Satan’s point of view2819385851_04df2f653e_m, or just too obscure…)

I was happy with the ‘Adam naming the animals’ leading into the ‘creation of Eve’ sections – but perhaps that didn’t leave enough space to develop the antagonist’s POV enough.

I emailed it to another writer friend, but – I didn’t know at the time! -he’s moving house. He apologised about not replying; I said please don’t; he has enough on his plate!

I then fell sick a few days back, so was unable to make it to my local writers’ group meeting. I had another member read out my story for me. Her response? “Everyone enjoyed it.” Which is nice, but not particularly detailed. Sigh.

So I’m still left wondering – is it pacing? Is it too Christian? Is it too Satan-ic? Or is it just, simply, too obscure?

I’d love to know what YOU think!

“Cat,” he says. “Horse.”

The angel scribes carefully; smiles. “Last one.”

The man gazes at the creature. “Dog.” The angel scribes, nods; then disappears into the spirit realm.

The Master inclines his head. Ancient eyes close.

The man falls asleep.

 

Later, he wakes; a woman beside him, clothed in purity. “Eve,” whispers the man, eyes wide, marvelling. “My own.”

I smirk. This’ll be easy.

Later still, she explores the garden, head erect; her desire to please ripe for the plucking.

 

I slither over; make my move.

Offended, proud, she seeks to best me in a match of wills.

I win.

So – do *you* think that pacing may be an issue?

And have a lovely week, dear reader!

— KRidwyn

CC image courtesy Nicholas Brekhus on Flickr

Categories
Christianity Life random scribblings Scribblings Writing

Short story: CRIME

Herewith, a story soon to be published in my local Writers’ Group biannual magazine. 800 words. Here’s hoping you enjoy it! 😀

*****

CRIME

Nathanael stood still, watching.

The man in the bed next to him didn’t have long to live. He was 87, after all, and had been ill for months now. Nathanael watched him sadly, wheezing in his sleep. It was such a waste, it truly was.

Nathanael had guarded hundreds – if not thousands – of humans before. He’d been assigned to them when they’d finished their terms as innocents, and stayed with them until their last breath. Then he’d been assigned a new human to guard. Every assignment presented its own challenges, its own highlights. No two were identical, just as each of the Master’s creations was unique. But this last assignment left him saddened. It had been easy, but that in itself had been part of the problem. It had been too easy. The man wasting away in the bed next to him had not lived. Not in any meaningful way. Yes, he had been alive, but he had never lived; he had only existed. And they were very, very different things.

This man, his current assignment, was the second child of three. Overshadowed by both his brothers in intelligence, the man had made up his mind at an early age that he would never amount to much. He had lived with the ridicule of his siblings and the disappointment of his parents, and so had found it difficult to make friends at school. His peers didn’t like him; he’d never gone out of his way to be friendly. By graduation, he’d been friendless. Average school marks had meant that further education wasn’t an option, so he’d gone into the workforce, helping out in his father’s business. And he’d stayed there. Sixty years later, when society had forced him to retire, he’d stopped going to work and stayed at home. The home which he’d inherited from his parents after their death, after his brothers had moved on to bigger and better things. Successful careers. Marriages. Families. Houses. Overseas holidays at ski resorts.

This man, though, had had none of those things. He had told himself that he didn’t want to be seen to be ‘ambitious’ – but really, Nathanael thought that it was because he was scared. Scared of what might happen if he had tried. Scared to succeed; scared to fail. Coasting, making as few decisions as he possibly could, carried less risk. So that’s what he’d done.

He’d never married. Never had anyone that he could call friend. Never even owned a pet! The man had deliberately chosen to be responsible for no-one and nothing. He had told himself that he had preferred it that way. Nathanael wondered if that was true.

It wouldn’t be long now, Nathanael knew. The man’s breathing was becoming more and more erratic. With his angelic sight, Nathanael could see the man’s bodily systems labouring with more and more difficulty, then starting to shut down. The man had just minutes to live.

But what is a life? thought Nathanael. Is it just the number of breaths measured out to a man? Is it the seconds that he has between conception and death? Or is it the decisions that he makes in the time allotted to him? The emotions he allows himself to feel? The experiences he chooses to have?

The Master had created humans to be social creatures. He had created them to be part of community. To care for each other. Life was about living. Not just existing, oblivious to those around you. A life without choosing to interact with others was no life at all. Nathanael knew this. He had had enough experience watching lives to be utterly convinced.

This man, who had lived without thought for others, had done little harm to them. But neither had he done any kindness. And that was such a waste. He could have done so much good! He had had the opportunity for wealth – and with it, the opportunity to be generous with that wealth. He had had the opportunity for friendship – and with it, the possibility of choosing to make others happier. To make their lives easier.

But he had chosen to live his life as risk-free as possible. He had chosen a life without social interaction. A life of solitude. A life alone.

A life wasted. It was almost criminal. To have so many opportunities, and to neglect to nurture them. It was so sad.

Nathanael watched as the man took his last breath. He watched as his heart beat its last time. Nathanael watched as his soul departed, to the place where all souls went, ready for the final judgement.

Nathanael sighed. A final reflection on this man’s life. Then he too departed, thinking with hope of the next life that he would guard. He wondered who his next assignment would be.

The man’s body lay almost as still in death as his spirit had been in life. Unremarkable.

*****

So – did you like it? I’d love to hear your thoughts! Please feel free to leave any and all comments below.

And have a lovely week, dear reader 😀

— KRidwyn

Categories
Christianity family anecdotes Life More about me Random thoughts Writing

When stuff goes pear-shaped

I remember one of my godfathers once asked me to choose a present for myself. I was about 8, and we were in the local newsagent.

I looked for a long time, finally bringing him the thickest compendium of Garfield comics I could find, which he bought without hesitation. Afterward, he questioned my choice. “I was only able to choose one gift,” I explained, “so I wanted to make sure that the gift I chose would last me a long time.”

That’s me. I’m a thinker; a planner. I’m the person who always has to know what is going to happen, WAY ahead of schedule, so I can plan for it. That photo next to ‘control freak’ in the dictionary? That’s me.

Well, it used to be, anyway. I’m learning to relax a lot more. God working in me and all that, maybe?

Case in point: this blog.

Last week. No blog post.

Whoops! Monday morning came; Monday morning went; all 24 hours worth of Monday disappeared… and no new words appeared here.

And it was completely human error. Mine.

Thees last couple of weeks have been busy ones, you know? As in, three-cherubs-underfoot-EVERY-SINGLE-DAY-and-no-time-to-stop-and-think-and-realise-exactly-what-day-it-is-today kind of busy.

Hence Tuesday evening, when I went to watch the Monday TV show I’d taped the night before, I realised that I’d been a day behind. No TV show taped. And also, no blog post published. It wasn’t even written! It hadn’t even been thought about!!!

Cue panicked screaming, running around the house, arms flailing, et cetera – for a whole 20 seconds.

And then I thought, ‘You know what? These things happen. It’ll be okay.’

Decibel levels reduced to within nationally appropriate safety standards, my arms stopped flailing, my heartbeat slowed again, my mind ceased racing, and the cherubs whose presence had caused the upset to routine in the first place, chalked the episode up to yet-another-example-of-Mummy-being-crazy, sighed, and returned to watching old episodes of Pokemon I’d recorded for them. (Yes. Record their programs, not mine. Go figure.)

Stuff had gone pear-shaped, and little ol’ control-freak me was going to… be okay with that.

I’d realised that no amount of panicked screaming and arm-flailing was going to change the situation. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change” seems appropriate to quote here, but actually, it was a tweet that same day that hit the nail on the head for me, instead.

Screen Shot 2016-08-14 at 4.06.24 PM

So often I allow stuff over which I have no control, to trip me up. Do you do the same? But although the idea of ‘stumbling over something that lies behind us’, is ludicrous… how often do we do it?

If we can’t change the past, then let it lie. Don’t dwell on it; forget about it inasmuch as it is able to be forgotten (obviously, consequences will out and all that).

But, in the grand scheme of things, I don’t want to be the person on her deathbed at the end of her life, saying ‘I regret spending all that time worrying’. Especially when it’s worry over things I can’t do anything at all about.

[Aside: It may be trite, but I believe that worry is simply an unsaid prayer.]

So my advice, when stuff goes pear-shaped? Do something about it, if you can. And if not, then don’t sweat it. In the long run, it’ll probably be small stuff anyway.

Well, that’s my take on it. Your thoughts?

And have a great week, dear reader!

-KRidwyn

Categories
Random thoughts Writing

On support groups

I’m not a ‘social’ kind of girl. I used to be, back when I was 19, 20. But I haven’t been for quite some time now. Rather, I’m the stereotypical introvert – happiest in my own company, without the pressures of expectations, protocols, and others’ opinions weighing on me.

So as you can imagine, I’m not big on ‘support groups’. Meeting regularly with people is not something I particularly enjoy dong it. Church on a weekly basis fills my quota more than sufficiently.

And I’m also a member of my local Writer’s Group, and have blogged about them before.

But in the last several months, I’ve also found myself a couple of online places where writers meet over a virtual water-cooler. And I must admit, I’m surprising myself with how much I am enjoying the online support of people I’ve never met in real life but with whom, online, I frequently converse!

One of these places is lovingly referred to as ‘The Reef’. We follow the blog of Literary Guru and Agent Extraordinaire, Janet Reid of Fine Print Literary Management. [Edit: as of August 14, 2016, Her Sharkliness is now Agent-Wrangler Extraordinaire at New Leaf Literary.] We comment on her topics – or also on our own; we enter her Flash Fiction contests, some of us are exiled to Carkoon for misbehaviour: it’s a truly exceptional group of people and I’m incredibly inspired by their talents and honoured to be considered one of them.

A second, slightly more local group, is the friends who I race with every Wednesday evening, Brisbane time. The Writing Races are hosted by Australian Writers Marketplace Online and are run through Facebook. One captain helps racers keep track of time, but we race against ourselves. Whether its word count increases on current works in progress, or decreases through revision, editing or re-writing stages, it’s great fun to have the company for an hour, knowing that people all around the country are doing exactly what you’re doing at that point in time. The sense of camaraderie is palpable. And I love that.

There’s also my wonderful family, colleagues at work, the Celtic group that the three cherubs and I are part of – all in all, I’m glad God designed us to share our lives with each other. Community sure is one magnificent idea. And that from the introvert sitting in front of her computer right now, enjoying the opportunities that present right from this little blog of mine.

Because you, dear blog reader, are the ‘support group’ I get to thank right now. Here, in this space that WordPress kindly allowed me to create, I want to thank you for taking the time to read. To lurk. To comment. To think of me, and honour me with your presence, and your willingness to spend your time reading the externalisation of my thoughts. I appreciate it more than you know.

Thank you, dear reader. And have a marvellous day today!

— KRidwyn

Categories
family anecdotes More about me my novel-in-progress Random thoughts Writing

What makes an effort worthwhile?

Last Saturday was a fairly momentous day for me.

IMG_1907I finished the first draft of my third book. And then I went and performed on my harp in public – for the first time.

But although both of those were momentous for me, their impact on others is negligible.

I typed ‘THE END’ on JUSTINE BROWNING AND THE YETI SOLUTION at 5.17pm, then packed up my three cherubs and we headed off to an evening performance with the Moreton Celtic Fiddle Club, which we’re all part of. Miss11, Miss8 and I play violin; Mr7 and I play recorder; and I also play harp. Different instruments for different songs, I hasten to add, hopefully before images of Dick Van Dyke in MARY POPPINS are stuck in your head… whoops… sorry!

Anywho, I’ve been learning harp for just over five months now. I’m a music teacher, and I’ve been playing instruments for three and a half decades, but harp is BY FAR the most difficult I’ve ever learned. Saturday’s was my first performance, and as scary as it was? It’s been and gone and the others will all be easier.

Likewise, my book. The first time I typed THE END, on May 10 2015, it was exhilarating. Typing it for a second time on May 10 of this year was just as brilliant, if not more exciting because I’d proven to myself that last year’s book wasn’t just a fluke. Typing it for the third time, two days ago, made me realise, ‘Hey, I can do this. This is a thing, now.’ And that’s an incredibly fantabulous realisation to make!!! Especially seeing as I can see how my writing is improving substantially with each and every book. It may not be getting ‘easier’ but it’s certainly getting ‘better’ 🙂

Although, (and I’m thinking about Saturday again now) for each of these two events, I also stepped back from myself and said, ‘So what?’

I played my harp piece as background music during a celebratory meal – the group that had booked us to play for them, were marking 30 years existence. So people were eating and drinking, talking and laughing – and maybe a handful were watching; listening; paying attention. Not that I was playing for their attention… but the thought hit me: ‘few care’. And no more than a couple would have given any thought to the efforts I had gone to, to learn the harp and play the song for their enjoyment.

Likewise, my stories. I’d like to think they’ll be published one day. [Please Lord, before my 45th birthday!] but even if they are, only a mere handful of readers may possibly think about the effort that I put into creating the book.

And that’s okay. Don’t get me wrong, I realise that this is the way life is, and even if I wanted to change this, it’ll never happen.

No, my point is: what is it that makes these efforts of mine – any effort, by anybody, really – worthwhile?

Was I playing solely for my listeners’ enjoyment? Do I write solely for my future possible readers?

In part, yes. But to be downright honest about this – only a little part.

So what makes my efforts worthwhile? My own feelings about what I’ve accomplished. My own emotions about what my future could look like.

And if that’s not motivation enough, I don’t know what is 🙂

Have a great week, dear reader!

— KRidwyn

Categories
#blogjune Blogging challenges my novel-in-progress Reading Scribblings Writing

30 must-read books – #28

As an aspiring writer, I’m interested in world-building. And Iain M. Banks does this brilliantly.

#bj27I first read The Player of Games twenty-odd years ago. So yes, I was young(er) and more impressionable, but man oh man did this ever make an impression! The world-building is magnificent. Superlative. Masterful. And the story’s not too shabby either 🙂

Have you read this, or any of his other work? Would you agree?

And have a great day, dear reader!

— KRidwyn