I am spam, spam I am
I am spam, this I know because my gmail tells me so. I checked my spam folder, and there was my blog post. I AM NOT SPAM, DAMMIT!
The Lovers and the Nurse →
No, it’s not a kinky threesome. It’s some kind of threesome, though, thanks to Trifextra: Week Fourteen. It’s a hospital scene from three perspectives; a threesome of thirty-three words. Now all I need to do is avoid flunking uni this quarter…
As it turns out,
the lecturer drew the same conclusion as me. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
The Three-Act Structure
I keep reading lecture notes that break down the three-act structure into four distinct parts: Act 1, Act 2 (first half), Act 2 (second half), Act 3. Combine that with the information that Act 1 and Act 2 are around the same length, but Act 3 is twice as long. It sounds to me like you have four acts.
The prompt was simply ‘morning’ from Day 23 of the Poetic Asides Poem-A-Day Challenge. I had trouble getting out of bed this morning, because it’s bloody cold in Brisbane. Well, by Brisbane standards, anyway. And I don’t like cold, much… unless I’m on a ski trip.
Writer Idol →
Please, please can some of the Australian writers’ festivals have Writer Idol?
Why rejection slips are great news for writers
Some time ago, I told my critique partner that rejection slips were like badges of courage and that I would be proud of any rejection slips received. Each one would symbolise the steps I’d taken, the effort I’d made, the potential failure I’d been willing to confront. I was wrong. (Sorry, Natasha.) Not about their value, but about the reason for it. Rejection slips are...
I’ve got another busy day ahead, but I still took the time to write. I needed to, because Stephen King said so. This one is for Trifecta: Week Twenty-Four.
Good Times →
I ended up writing a response for the Australia Poetry poem of the week contest. The prompt was ‘Somebody that I used to know’. Yes, like the song.
Modern theory of coffee's action as a diuretic
When coffee is extracted into a cup, dripped into a pot or poured from the pot, or when water is poured onto instant coffee, or when a stovetop espresso pot fills, it makes a trickling gurgle. This sounds rather like a tinkle in the toilet, and makes you need to go. It’s a similar effect to walking by a babbling brook or rushing waterfall. So, you see, coffee is just as innocent as water in...
I’m busily catching up on my studies today. I don’t have time to edit and post something new, and I’d rather not post something raw (or borrowed or blue), so here’s something old. I used it as a discussion board post as part of my assessment last year.
Attention Amazon: Here's what I would like
I would like to be able to subscribe to an author, so that every time a new Kindle edition is made available, you auto-deliver it to my Kindle Touch. It would be even better if you were smart about it and identified new editions that were contained in or compiled from books in my existing collection. Thank you.
How to Properly Harvest Your Very Best Ideas →
Don’t rush it! Wait until it’s ripe, and then savour it.
2011 Bram Stoker Awards →
I see Stephenie Meyer didn’t get a mention— *phew*
I have uni work to do. Therefore, I am writing. This afternoon’s prompt is from The Write Practice: rejection.
Procrastination technique of the day: →
Adding labels to old blog posts.
I wrote this for the Poem-A-Day challenge, day 19. It’s about my Pop, who is still alive, but may not be with us much longer. Despite being very sick, he’s very happy and full of love.
Rakuli: Who are you? Vol 2 →
rakuli: IT IS IMPORTANT — BUT NOT EXACTLY ESSENTIAL — THAT YOU READ OR REFRESH YOURSELF ON VOL 1 BEFORE READING THIS The problem with stereotypes is that people keep fitting into them so nicely. Sure, most people don’t exhibit all characteristics of a stereotype but the traits they do show, usually…
Rakuli: Who are you? Vol 1 →
rakuli: The problem with stereotypes is that people keep fitting into them so nicely. Sure, most people don’t exhibit all characteristics of a stereotype but the traits they do show, usually override the ones they do not. Tumblr, like any other place, now has a set of stereotypes. Do any of them fit…
Reblog if you're ugly as fuck.
The good news is: most people like fuck.
Why did they want to know about me? →
Oh, they didn’t.
I wrote this in response to Trifecta: Week Twenty-three. I went on and wrote more than the 333 words I was meant to max out at; never mind, as it’s all good material for my adventures with Alice. (Not that Alice, and not those adventures. I’m referring to her adventures in Mr Slater’s memories of his One Year in the West.)
… and here’s my poetic response to the Day 9 prompt.
Despite all evidence to the contrary, I have been participating in the Poem-a-Day Challenge over at Writer’s Digest. My output quality has ranged from ‘slush’ to ‘wow’, presenting me with a new problem: what shall I post? I don’t want to post the ‘slush’ lest you run forever from my blog. And, while I’d love to share the ‘wow’ with...