Isn't it though? Up until the creation of blogs and the Internet, people had no desire to share their diaries with the world, but with the invention of cyberspace, the keyboard, Twitter, Facebook and the blog-o-sphere, suddenly everyone wanted to share absolutely everything. There are millions of blogs, profiles and twitterers all sending their personal doings, thoughts and ruminations out into the world. My question is why? Why did people suddenly have this urge to go public? Is it because they just couldn't before? It is because they're just following the crowd in which everyone is already doing it? Is it because they see the attention media stars get, and want some of that? Is it a combination of all of these things? Although, I can't really talk, because this is a blog post lol. All I can answer those questions with is that this blog is mainly about my writing career, and where my fan base will centre (If I ever happen to get one). So someone tell me what this sudden urge to be heard is all about.
There be my daily rant. I suddenly realised I needed to be deep and intellectual for a bit, after having to pause before my brain could remember how to spell 'write' and 'remember'. I could feel my smarts leaking out my ears after such a long time of being unused... Not a good thing to have happen lol.
In other news, it is 2012! My brain is still asking "Where did 2011 go?", to which I must simply shrug my shoulders in astonishment. It went by so quickly. I still can not believe I am now a second year university student. Only this year and next year remain, until I turn twenty and enter the real world. As an adult. *Recoils slightly in horror.* I may be eighteen, but in my head, I still feel like a sixteen-year old. Is that a bad thing?
Writing news! I received an email, maybe two weeks ago, from the Drummond Literary Agency. They told they did not like Sparks. I was disappointed, but I knew it was bound to happen. It was a Buckley's-like chance that I would be accepted by the first agency I submitted a manuscript to.
Christmas was a wonderful time for me. I got a laptop cooling pad, delicious gourmet ice-cream and two packets of fabric ink pens to scribble on t-shirts with. I must work on some designs now... The trouble is, they will only really work on white shirts, whereas the really good designs I've seen have been on coloured shirts, or black ones. Ah well. I gotta work with what I've got, I suppose.
I got sick about two weeks before Christmas, pretty much the day after I had started a painting that I was going to give to my mother. It was a nasty bug, which left me unable to finish the painting until Christmas eve. I got it done though, and it turned out wonderfully. I must say that it is the best painting I have ever done. Not to mention the biggest. Here is a link to it, if you wish to take a peek. While you're at it, have a squiz at the rest of my work on deviantART. I like to dabble in a bit of everything, so there's photography, painting, digital art and other bits and pieces on there.
While I'm on here, I may as well post the little bit of writing I have done over the holidays. One of my favourite authors, Derek Landy, who can be found over on Derek Landy Blogs Under Duress, held a character creation competition. The best characters would be included in one of his new short stories. I wrote a small piece to introduce the character I thought up.
The man was tea-kettle shaped, to say the least. Squat and round with a thatch of oily black hair that seemed beaten back by shiny bald patches. He was middle aged and seemed inconspicuous enough in his stained blue jeans, singlet and leather coat. It was the way he ate that was making Andrew stare. There were a few meat pies on the bench beside him, and a pile of empty wrappers littering the grass. He would take a pie out of its plastic, heft it to his tiny mouth, and then it would vanish. Andrew could not fathom how the man achieved this feat. He glanced down at Diesel who had finally finished doing his business on the dark, wet grass of the park.
“Are we going now?” he asked the dog. Diesel looked up and wagged his tail.
“Come on then,” said Andrew, giving the lead a tug. He took a few steps along the path and glanced back up at the man. He had another pie in his hands, but he was now gazing at Andrew, who stopped abruptly. The man gave a small smile.
“G’day,” he said. Andrew frowned. The stranger’s smile lengthened.
“Get a lot of those looks when I open me mouth,” he said with a thick drawl. Andrew noticed that he barely opened his mouth to speak.
“Are you Australian?” he asked, then regretted it, feeling a bit rude. The stranger seemed as though he was trying not to smile now.
“Yep. Fair dinkum Aussie,” he replied. Andrew smiled uncertainly, not sure how to reply. The man sighed, looking back at his pie.
“Ah. You don’t get many of these around here. You can get ‘em in wheelbarrows where I come from, so when I found these, I took the whole lot. Nothing like a good taste of home to settle your belly. They need a bit of sauce though. You ain’t got any dead horse on ya’ mate?”
Andrew stared at him open mouthed. The man slapped his thigh and tried not to laugh.
“Dead horse. Slang for red sauce. Y’know, tomato sauce? Ket-chup if you’re a yank.”
Andrew finally got the message and smiled shakily. “Sorry. I have no sauce,” he said. “But I think you can get it in little sachets from the cafe up the street.”
“Oh really? That’s nifty. Thanks mate. Oh, where’re me manners? The name’s Ball. Marrow Ball.”
“Andrew. I’m Andrew Dayton,” he replied, mulling over what an odd name the stranger possessed.
“Nice to meet ya’ Andrew. Now you best get on your way, I think your mutt’s getting a bit uppity,” said Marrow. Andrew, ever the comedian as his wife described him, tried to make a joke of the situation.
“Maybe he likes you Mr. Ball. He certainly loves chasing them around the yard at home.”
Marrow slapped his knees again and began laughing fit to burst. Andrew smiled weakly. It hadn’t been that good a joke. His smile withered even more as Marrow sat back up, grinning widely now.
“Oh dear,” he said, looking at Andrew’s pale face. “I seem to have opened me mouth again. I always do get the strangest of looks when I do that.” He smiled even wider, revealing rows upon rows of sharp, serrated shark teeth. Marrow opened his great maw and swallowed his last pie. Andrew began backing slowly away. Diesel was whimpering now. Marrow was watching them with dark, gleaming eyes.
“Sorry fellas. Can’t let you go blabbing my little secret now,” he said, teeth clicking.
Andrew didn’t care what the little shark man said, he was getting out of there. He turned and ran. Marrow growled and leapt after them. Andrew heard a ripping, roaring sound behind him as he ran, Diesel skittering along beside him. He glanced back to see what he could only describe as a whirling tornado of teeth, bearing down on him.
The police chief stepped under the security tape, brushing the rain off his jacket.
“Another one?” he asked the detective, who was already there, looking bleary eyed and holding a steaming cup of coffee.
“Yes.” He said simply, stepping around the police vehicles that blocked the view from the public. The chief followed and recoiled at the sight.
“A body. Well, two bodies, but only one human, completely stripped of flesh, surrounded by what we can only describe as localised tornado damage.”
Andrew’s remains were lying on the ground and had been picked almost clean, while most of Diesel’s skeleton hung from it’s leash which had been caught around a tree branch. The sight was grisly.
“What the hell are we dealing with detective?” asked the chief, glancing up just in time to see a dark-haired girl and a tall man in an overcoat, hat and glasses slide into a huge black car.
Comment if you think he's any good.
