Goldfields Writers Workshop - Poetry Workshop

A few weeks ago, the Goldfields Writers Group had a Workshop.
The afternoon was divided in to two parts: Poetry and Prose.

The activity given for the Poetry Workshop on the day was:
Head outside, find somewhere to sit. In 10 minutes, write whatever comes to you about the scene laid in front of you. Write anything and everything that comes to mind about the scene. Editing comes later.
The following was what I came up with...

---

The glare of the Sun was limited by thicker clouds.
Ahead, the children.
Voices loud, clear, and yet unintelligible.
Drones mixed with vehicular activity.
They know nothing of the citizens of the year sitting beside me.
One of them probably had been there to see their first breaths.
They sat silently on the footpath, trodden over a few hundred times without knowing it.
The only protection afforded to them was the over hanging wire, not yet a roof produced by the climbing vines
Vines that would otherwise be called Strangling

---

---

And, as you can see, I am not really a poet :P
I can assure that the day was actually quite nice. The sun had been out for most of the day and it was pretty good out there.
It just was the first thing that came to me.

The homework for the ... month... was to expand on that properly and edit it to a more suitable poetry style.

As such, here is the final result.

---

Sun streaks faded

Blinding glare imposed by the gathering clouds

Ahead, the children play

Voices clear.
Unintelligible.
Loud.
High Pitched.
Whiny.
Drones

mixed with vehicular activity.

They know nothing of the Citizens of the Year sitting beside me.
One of them probably had seen their first breaths.
Another may have helped them when they were unwell.
Others still have had profound effects on their life without them knowing.

The Citizens sit stoical
silent
in the stone path.
Stepped on,
walked over a few hundred times without knowing it.
Wire overhangs the Citizens.
No protection from the elements until the Vines strangle the string.
By then, time may have strangled them too.

---

---

Not a bad expansion on the previous work, I think.
Poetry was not, and is not, really my thing. I am too literal a person to be able to fabricate and weave a scene like a poet.
That said, I don't mind how this has turned out. Better than what I remember it to be.

---

In other writing news...
Last night I had decided to sit down and start writing out a basic outline for the NaNoWriMo effort.
1800 words later, and I have a basic grip on what is going to happen in the storyline.
I don't have a finish yet. Characters don't have names (well... mostly). The McGuffin is still not wholly decided upon, and the big-bad and the final resolution is not likely to be determined until I actually write it.

If anyone wants to be a Plot Hole Searcher, Editor, Science & Tech Advisor or just wants to have a squizz at what the current storyline looks like, give me a buzz.

Magnetic Man Dudes - 009 - Holy Grail

They had found the Holy Grail, and now were returning it to their Base Camp.

Magnetic Man Dudes - 008 - Red Goes Nuts

...and when Red went nuts, you think that Blue and Yellow would have listened. However, it was not to be, to their detriment...

Goldfield Writers Group - Love or Theft in the Goldfields

Sneak Double Post!

From the previous meeting, the homework for the month was "Write about Love or Theft in the Goldfields (500 words maximum).

As such...

---

I first noticed them maybe a month or two ago. I had made a brief stop in the tea room. The glass on the corridor looks out to a blocked-in courtyard. Two pigeons sitting on the dirt, in the sunlight that projected between the shadows of the building and the shade of the tree. I thought that this was quite strange, at first. There were perfectly good branches that sat in the sun and this area is a common, and perfect, place for cats to stalk. These two birds, however, were unphased by such trivialities. They were perfectly confident... A good thing to be when you are in your own home. It amused me for a few moments, while my cup cooled enough to drink. I moved on.

Over the course of a few weeks, I noticed that they rarely sat in the tree. Almost always on the ground. I also noticed that it was always only two of them. Never a third, never just one, always the two. I wondered if they were mates. I couldn't remember exactly, but I had always thought that pigeons had very defining male/female features. My memory says that the male pigeons are usually more colourful and slightly larger. Looking at these two, I can't tell one apart from the other.
They occasionally wandered around, scratching and picking at the grass and grit. Every now and then, one would look over at the other and they would pause, sharing the time together in some form of silent communication.

One overcast day, the groundskeepers stripped the overgrown grasses and weeds from the area. They tore through the ground, stealing up the rocks and flora. I spotted the pigeons sitting in a gutter that overhangs the area. They sat there patiently as the destruction of their grounds continued beneath them, occasionally giving a sideways glance down monitor the proceedings.

I did not see them for another week.

I had thought them gone permanently until I took the time to look properly. They were back at it again, picking in the ground. They stopped every now and then, looking at each other in quiet observation. They then look up at me. I see their eyes, knowing nothing of what passes between the two. They move on again, walking over the ground. Sitting together.

Goldfield Writers Group - Landscape

As part of the previous month's homework... The topic was "Write about a piece of the Goldfields Landscape (400 words max)".

As such, allow me to present to you "Rape Alley"

---

I almost always walk down a particular alleyway when going to and from work and town. Most of the times, I think of a conversation I had with a friend when we walked through it at the end of a night out. My memory of the conversation has slightly altered what was said, but the gist is always the same.

“Let's go this way. Shortcut.” I had said.
“What, down Rape Alley?” she asked incredulously.
“...'Rape Alley'?” I confusedly replied.

“Yeah! Don't you think it looks dodgy?”
“Well... yeah, but... 'Rape Alley'?”
She laughs as we start walking through the alleyway. It is wide, well lit and there is minimal graffiti.

“Doesn't it look like anything could happen here at night?”
I paused before responding.
“Well.. kinda, but so does any other alley way.”
“Yeah, so 'Rape Alley'!” She shouts and laughs.
“But this might be better than any other alley way in Kal. I mean, this alley is actually well lit from Hungry Jacks,” I point out. “There's lots of people getting Drive Thru, so there are witnesses.”
“Yeah, or they could randomly jump out and attack you!”
I laughed. Someone in the Drive Thru line looked at us. We were rather loud. Alcohol may have been involved.

“Somehow, I don't think that would happen.”

“What about this alley,” she pointed up another alley that joined in a T-Section. “People could come from there.”
“Huh? That's as well lit as here!”
“But it's weird down here at night!”
“I think you're just being paranoid,” I said. “Maybe it's because I am a man, but I don't really feel unsafe here.”
I'll never forget that, at that exact moment, our walk transitioned from the exceptionally well lit area to the dark-as-night portion. To this day, whenever I think of that phrase whilst walking down this particular alleyway, even in daylight, I turn my head just as I did that night... just to be sure.
“Do you think that anyone has actually been raped down here?” An honest question that I had not thought of until that moment.
“Well, this IS Kalgoorlie,” She replied. “Probably not, though.”
“Yeah. Drug deals, though...” I smirked. That got a laugh as we crunched over gravel, grit and glass through the gloom.

Magnetic Man Dudes - 007 - Giant Lizard

They also didn't believe Green when he said that there was a giant lizard... with dire consequences.

Goldfield Writers Group - Goldfields Personality (400 words)

Last month, the homework for the Writers Group was to produce 400 words on either a Goldfields personality or a location.
As I did not do that in the allotted time, I'll do both as projects.

Starting today with the Goldfields Personality.

EDDIE

"...I mean: How could he make a call like that?" I asked incredulously.
"Yeah... Bad call. Still, at least it wasn't Eddie."
"Eddie? Huh? What difference would that have made?"
"Well," my friend began. "For starters, he hands out cards like candy. In my game, he gave a yellow to a guy for swearing. Strictly speaking, it is against the rules and is a cardable offence... but it's not like it's really that bad. Certainly not a yellow."
I thought on this for a moment.
"Can you really begrudge someone for playing the letter of the law?"
"Yeah." My friend rolled his eyes. "It's not like we are playing for sheep stations or anything, and it doesn't affect gameplay. I fail to see how it is that bad."
I nodded.
"I agree. What else?"
"He is very strict when it comes to everything, really. Give a half bad stick check, and he sends you off with a Green. Tells you that you should know better at this level. Things that most umpires give a short corner for in the circle seem to go to a Penalty Stroke more often. He seems to have a thing with trying to mix things up, ruffle some feathers, particularly with the experienced and skilled players."
"Actually, those are the exact words he uses when it comes to administration of the Hockey Centre." I replied. "Give an opinion to the committee that might not be what they want to hear... but it must be said that it could actually be closer to correct than what the committee ends up doing."
"Hmm. He's an institution here. You always see him down here in his black pants and green YM jumper or shirt. Respect him for the dedication and years he has been here, but try to ignore everything else." He mused.
"Fun fact: he seems to know everyone here, including all of the juniors."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I've seen him rattle off the names of all of the Under 13s from another club. Most of them, I don't think I've seen before... and I've been here for years reffing that level."
My friend gave a whistle.
"True?" I nodded. "Respect. Takes a lot of time and effort to do that."
"Yeah," I said. "As you said, an institution."

Mid Week Microscopy - 007 - Dead Leaf

~55x Magnification
Dead Eucalypt Leaf

~200x Magnification
Dead Eucalypt Leaf

So... I have started back with the Goldfield Writers Group again.
Here's hoping that they can kick start me back in to a writing groove.
I'll try to have a piece up this week (for last month's homework...).

The Person on the Other Side of the Curtain

I wanted to do a change up from my regular "idea-action" sort of writing, so I started this one.

This was also mostly "completed" before I went to New Zealand, and was in fact, the story that went to my Editor with a few discussions looking back over it and thinking of changes that may make more sense or enhance the story. We even got as far as considering a full re-work of the story (that I may end up doing if I can re-motivate myself again) before the trip and then real life took hold.
After I came back and lost interest in writing, this one sort of fell by the way side. About a week ago, I picked it up again and hacked out a few things, added a small change here or there.
I lost impetus and, though this is one of the stories I wanted to write, I feel like I haven't done it justice.
A few small passages, and the ending in particular, feel quite weak. It doesn't really show what I want it to... but I have lost interest in writing this one and it sort of feels incomplete.

Partially inspired by the short story The Spider by Hans Heinz Ewers, as well as the English units we did in Year 11 and 12.
You probably won't believe me... but just try.
You do have to find inspiration from the real world for anything that is meant to look even remotely life like, but I can assure you that this is not related to real life events.
Stop staring at me like that.
 

---

Saturday, 8

This afternoon, something a little odd occurred. Odd probably isn't the correct word, but I am not sure what other word could cover it. Weird? Serendipitous doesn't really cover it either, and that would imply something a little unusual and abnormal about me. I've no real reason to actually explain why it made me smile or even think good about it, but it did.

I went to my table and noticed that my curtain was ajar. This in itself is a little odd, because I normally keep it quite shut. That's especially important if the weather we are expecting to come soon materialises: The curtains will keep the heat and extra light out. Keeps the electricity bills cheaper. Also keeps people from looking in. I guess the curtains must have come open while I was cleaning and tidying earlier.

Anyway, I figured that I was a little bored and that I would peer out of the window to see what was happening. I looked out across to the apartments next door, because that is basically all I can see from my window. The units looking back at me are all pretty similar, and I should know: I used to live over there. All tiny apartments, one room plus a separate bathroom/laundry complex. I moved over here when I could afford to because... well... space. Also, it's cheap enough, in a pretty good neighbourhood and is close enough to most things that matter to me so I would have been mad to not go for it when I could.

The apartments stare back at me with their grey brick exterior and off-white backed curtains shut tightly. All except the one basically directly across from me. This unit had a curtain that was kind of opened, enough that I could see a reasonable amount inside. I'm not sure why, but I actually had a sort of prolonged look over the place. Maybe some sense of nostalgia. The floor was the same dark brown carpet that I remembered in my unit. There was a small desk on one side of the room, with an office chair and what was probably a computer or laptop sitting on top of it (I couldn't see it all). I think I could also make out half of the bed close to the window and the wardrobe against the wall too. The layout was a bit different to my old apartment but, then again, everyone has their own room layout.

And then a person walked past. A man to be specific.

He was wearing long black or deep navy track pants and a lighter blue t-shirt on. I guess he was of average height and build, light brown hair.

I actually stopped for probably a minute or two to see what he was doing. He looked like he had just grabbed a bottle of drink (alcoholic beverage?) and sat down. I presume the TV was on. Occasionally, he looked like he was laughing and every so often he would take a sip out of the bottle. Eventually, I moved away and continued on with my life.

Like I said earlier, I am not really sure why it was particularly intriguing to me, but... it just... was.

Maybe it's the idea of finding someone you have never really seen before but in a place you used to know. It could have been that it was just something that happened that broke the monotony of my day without really involving me doing anything truly unique. Perhaps the sheer voyeurism of looking in to see what other people do (isn't that what made Reality TV so popular?) or maybe even just the fact that there are other people going about their lives without any real care in the world?

Who knows? It was significant enough that I have dedicated a page writing about it here.

***

Wednesday, 12

It happened again. This time, it was during dinner. Chicken Kiev, peas, carrots and corn. Delicious. The TV was on, the news providing some form of simultaneous information dissemination and background noise. I swallowed something the wrong way. Once I had calmed down, I poured myself a glass of water and sat back down. I noticed my curtains opened again. I must have knocked them apart in my choking/coughing fit. I had a quick look around and I noticed that once again his curtains were fairly open. For a moment, there was nothing. I was about to close my own curtains when he reappeared. He sat down at the base of the bed, a plate of food in hand and remote control at his side. He was wearing the same coloured pants as the other day, possibly even the same pants, but a different shirt. This one was green.
Every now and then, he would change the channel. For the most part, though, he would sit there and take a bite or two.

A loud ad break in the news broke me out of my trance. I closed the curtain and went back to eating. Funny thing though: My dinner had gone from hot to lukewarm. Must have been looking for a little while. Re-heated it, and it was ok. Would have been better hot. Most things don't microwave well.

***

Friday, 14

Finished work, came home and ate. Got showered and changed and heard the car beeping in the alley. That's the way we usually seem to communicate that we are here (i.e. at someone's place) and ready if that person is running late. It's amusing: we used to text each other all of the time that we were outside and waiting back in the days of pre-paid. Now that we are all on regular plans and it doesn't cost us anything to text, we don't do it. Strange how the world works, really.

Anyway, I got out on to the verandah just to check that it was my friends. I didn't think that I was running late at all. I looked down and saw that it wasn't actually the crew, it was a taxi.
I looked around to see if anyone was coming and saw his curtains slightly ajar. It was hard to make out, because the window wasn't opened that far, but I could definitely make out four different people, presumably, himself and friends (one male, two female). I couldn't tell at the time, but they seemed to look as if they were ready to go out too.
A longer beep from the taxi, and he opened his curtains. His shirt was a vibrant silky purple button up, not overpowering but definitely a classy shade. He was wearing long black pants, smooth and in stark contrast to the trackies he had been wearing the last few times I had seen him. A stylish set of shiny black shoes enveloped his feet and completed the look. He shouted down towards the taxi, a rather masculine voice telling the taxi driver that they were on their way.
The other people in the room downed their drinks and the curtains closed. The lights blinked out from underneath the curtains and they were gone.
I moved back inside and checked the time, realised that I had another half hour or so to kill, so I put some music on to pass the time.

Saturday, 15

The night out was good. Nothing special, just a nice night out. Minor hangover.

The mid-afternoon is my clean up time. I bumped the curtain, and it opened. I had a sneaking look through the window and saw that his curtain was open too. He was sitting down at the end of the bed again. He was wearing the same pants as he normally does, but this time no shirt. He had a reasonably toned chest and abdomen, with some definition on his pecs and subtle definition of his abs. I guess he worked out to some extent or was otherwise involved in some form of physical labour. He had limited amount of body hair, enough to know it was there but not enough as to call him a rug. Which I guess kind of suited him. This time, a mug was in his hand. Probably coffee.
I stared for about a minute before he twisted his head to the other side of the room. He got up and, I guess, he went to the door. I couldn't see that deep in to the room, but there was definitely some shadows dancing on the floor. There was more than one person in there now. I was sure of that. A few seconds later, I could see two pairs of feet. The sandles and feet they held of the newcomer looked kinda girly.

A minute later, and they were both sitting down at the end of the bed. She was of fair complexion and somewhat petite. She had light mousey brown hair that looked like it flowed not much past her shoulders. She was wearing light coloured jeans and a light red coloured tank top. The more I think about it, the more I think I recognise her from last night. Both had cups of whatever it was, coffee. They chat away for a while, every now and then one or both laughed. It was pretty obvious that they were an item. The way she smiled, you could have seen it a mile away. There was an interesting moment where she gave a sheepish grin and turned her head to her left. It was not long after that he sidled up next to her and lay his arm around her shoulders. She lay her head on his shoulder and placed her hand on his lap. He, in turn held hers.
For a time, they sat there. She stroked his hand. He softly kissed her temple. She smiled deeper, rolled in towards him. They embraced and started kissing.
I was mesmerised. This was kind of beautiful. They rose to their feet and started caressing tenderly. She was slightly shorter than he was, and her head and neck were slightly uptilted. He gently moved his hands up from her waist, up her back, past her neck and through her hair. She responded with a small kiss, possibly a nibble, on his neck. He inhaled deeply, clearly taken in, laughed and said something. She smiled back, looking deeply in to his eyes as his hands went to the bottom of her shirt. He dragged it up and -

- oh -

I should not be watching this.
Sheepishly, I shut the curtains and went back to doing anything else in the world.

***

Tuesday, 18

It was a hard day. I had been dumped upon greatly by my managers. The heat from the commute home had drained me of most of my remaining energy. I put something in the microwave. I was feeling too crappy to actually cook anything. The TV blared and did nothing to help alleviate the situation. I opened the curtain.

The last of the sun was coming down and some of the lights in the shadowed portions of the alley way were starting to flicker on. I saw that his curtain was open. She was there again. They were standing up, holding each other again. His shirt was still on, but hers was just coming off. The light blue singlet was dumped unceremoniously on the floor. His soon followed and they continued. I closed my curtain again out of a combination of minor embarrassment and major frustration with everything.

The food was now microwaved, so I sat down to eat it. The TV wasn't really working as a distraction again, the news being as awfully depressing as it normally is. The news reader's voice, instead of lulling me in to calm compliance, just irked me, so I switched it off.

A few moments of quiet solitude, a deep breath and a mouthful of microwaved food later, I thought I heard a squeek. I looked around the room. It's not unknown around these parts for mice to co-inhabit frequently. Another squeek... or was that a shout? I moved to the window and opened it a little to see if I could figure out what it was. Nothing. Probably a trick of the breeze.
As I was closing it, I heard it again. It was still a soft sound. Where was that coming from? There it was again. And again. I looked around. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. All curtains were closed. Then I saw movement in one of them. His. The movement was gentle and flowing and...
Oh.
Right.
Shirts being taken off.
Shouts.
Obvious.

I went to shut the door curtain. But then I stopped. Stopped and stared. And I watched the other curtain continue its short movements.
The rhythmic motion... it was... mesmerising.
The soft sound held me captive.
I was transfixed.
One motion after the other.
Eventually the sounds stopped, as did the curtains. I sat there for a while watching for movement, but there was none.

I eventually went back to my food, but it was cold.

Wednesday, 19

I got home from work, put my stuff away and started cooking. Once everything was in the oven/on the stove top, I sat down. Another long day, but a bit better than yesterday. The heat wave had well and truly hit now. I went to switch the TV on, but thought better off it. I peered through the curtains. His was not open.
I stayed there for a short while, until I could smell that my food was cooked.
The TV was not entertaining me so, after I ate and had a shower, I had a brief glance through the window again. His curtain was still drawn, though I could see light coming through the bottom. I think he was the only one there, as there was no real movement of the shadow.

Eventually, I went to bed.

Thursday, 20

Came home, dropped my stuff and looked through the curtain.
His was not open.

Cooked something.

Looked through the curtain. It was still not open.

Ate.

Looked through the curtain.

His curtain was open and the glass door slightly ajar. He was sitting there, sweating and largely naked with only underwear on. He also had a plate of food on his lap and a bottle of drink by his side. Why?
I sat down and I watched.
He ate slowly, but drunk quickly. It must be really hot there. He finished the bottle and got up.
I looked up and saw that all but one of the air conditioning units on the roof were working. The one that was not working appeared to be covered in black soot. I guess it was his and it had burnt out.

He came back with a large glass of water. We sat for some time.

He got up and went to the curtains. He looked around. His eyes wandered the place, and they went towards my window. I thought I noticed them slowing down.

I froze. Would he see me? Should I move? Close my own curtains?

A moment passed.

I'm not sure if he had actually seen me, he gave no indication that he did.

At any rate, he closed his curtains.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

I showered, peeked out, saw his curtain was still closed, and went to bed.

Friday, 21

I managed to get off earlier than normal today.

I got home and checked the curtain. His was open, as was the door. He had shorts on and was sitting down, glass of water in hand.

I watched for a little while when I noticed movement in my upper peripheral vision. The repairers for the broken air conditioner. They were looking down at me.

They waved. I waved back and slunk back in to my room, closing the curtain.

An hour passed and I checked again. His curtain was now closed.

Got changed and ready to go out.

Heard the beeping of a taxi, a shout. His shout. I briefly pulled open the curtains to see his closing.

I ran down the stairs, but he was gone by the time I got there.

Saturday, 22

I checked in the morning to see if there was anything happening.
The curtain was not open.

I went about cleaning my place, checking after I vacuumed.
Still not open.

The day went on and I still occasionally checked.
Not open once

Night time.
No Change.

Sunday, 23

Nothing.

Monday, 24

Still nothing.

Tuesday, 25

Still nothing.

Wednesday, 26

Still nothing.

Thursday, 27

I suspect that he must have noticed me and is keeping the curtains closed. We'll see this weekend.

Friday, 28

This could be it. The final chance.

I checked when I got home. Still no open curtain. It's ok, it's the afternoon. He might not be home yet.

I went on with my usual routine. Cooked something. TV on. Ate.

I checked again.

Light on, shadows moving, but no curtain opened.

I sighed.

Magnetic Man Dudes - 006 - Fishy Tale

They didn't believe Green about the size of the fish.