Counting down the days

If you shift your eyes slightly to the right you will see the new widget countdown.
Fragile Eternity is now released in America; however I’m still waiting for my copy to be sent. Damn you guys taking four weeks to get it to Australia!!

So to celebrate something else that is book related (and which also appeals to my career path) I have decided to post a widget counting down the days celebrating “the publication of Leviathan!”
Yes, behold in all of its glory the new book by Scott Westerfeld, who hasn’t published a new series since 2005. It’s a very exciting day to march into the publishing house and be able to hand the final copy of your manuscript over to the people. Perhaps one day I will be that person he hands the manuscript over to. Well I can dream!

It will be a bubbly moment for all of us!

Bogusly yours,

Jinx xx

Writing and Publishing (week 7)

I'm finally here with another one. Except this one is more fail than the rest.
But none the less here it is in its original form. Enjoy slamming it!

Dragging my suitcse up the stairs proved to be more difficult to achieve than the rest of the bags. Probably because spouse wasn't there to help me. I could just tell my booty was positively sticking way up in the air too high to be appropriate or even sexy. Not that I cared. This suitcase was full of old editions, manuscripts and every other paperwork needed for my home office. I needed this stuff to be pulled safely upstairs to the new apartment picked ever so carefully by me, not spouse.
It was the purple walls that did it. So dark that if you switched the lights off they were black. I showed this to spouse numerous times, just to prove my point to him that this house is perfect just because of the purple walls. They released something wild in me. The cream walls in our last apartment weren't doing the job. So uninspiring when you stare at them. Especially when you're trying to think of what to write next for your novel. Halfway through the second one and I've started to stress whether the story is even going to work anymore. But no, the stress stopped when I saw the purple walls and suddenly I realised what I'd done...

Thinking I was alone I started to sing while setting up to the new office owned by me, not spouse. While sitting cross-legged on the floor categorising pages and humming spouses tune I heard a snigger come from outside
"Man you sure can sing!" the voice sounded behind me. Embarrassed I turned to point out I was humming not singing to find spouse with his suitcase in his hands "maybe you should be the lead singer in my band and not Ross" I bowled him over with my pouncing hug and snogged him all over the face until I was satisfied he was red all over with my lipstick.
"You're home early! I thought Hong Kong was a week tour not a...they kicked you out didn't they?" spouses band liked making scenes at their concerts. Trying to make money yet losing more as the crowds were more pleased. How that makes sense I shall never know. I'm not into music, that's spouse's job.
"Well...there was a motobike in the changing room" he went crimson when I had my hands on my hips
"And you rode it on the stage!?"
"An then off the stage" he squeaked back
"MICHAEL!--
Well what did you expect? They loved it!"
"Except for the people who were meant to be giving you money, right?"
"Well yeah but...they're gay babe" he dumped his bag on the couch and picked up one of my old manuscripts from my first novel
"This your book?"
"Are you ever going to read it Michael?"
"Probably not. Are you ever going to attend my concerts?"
"If you stop riding motocycles off stages I might. I'm too young to die being run over by you"
"You know I wouldn't kill you that way babe. I'd do it another way!" he joked kicking back and flicking through the pages. He'll never read my book because I'll never go to one of his shows, he'll always just stare at the words pretending to be interested, just like me humming his tunes pretending I just can't be bothered singing the lyrics, and not because I actually don't know them. I sat next to him and stared at his bandaged leg
Not if I get to you first I thought...only this time, I wasn't joking...

Sorry Michael. I don't actually want to kill you. In fact, the name is chosen strictly because you're in a band!
And of course because...PURPLE WALLS!

Jinx xx

Best Dad Joke

On the deck of Lord Horatio Nelson's ship during the battle of Trafalgar against the French, the sailor in the crows nest shouted "one enemy ship off the port bough sir" Lord Nelson addressed his first mate, "Jarvis! Fetch me my red coat" Jarvis replied "why your red coat sir?"
"well, there will be fighting and I may get injured. With my red coat the men won't see blood and so will go on fighting" Just then, the crows nest sailor announced "seventeen enemy ships off the port bough sir!" to wit Lord Nelson shouted to Jarvis "cancel my red coat and bring me my brown cordorouys!!"

Man I love my Dad!

Jinx xx

Catherine Jinks

Recently, while researching for an essay "My Reading Experience" I have found that when I read a wonderful story I don't try and find another story that's similar, I read through all the other novels that the author has written. Part of liking a story, I believe, is not only the plot, but the writing style, the magic of words and how someone can develop this skill over time.

My appreciation for print developed when my Dad dragged me to the library to show me the entertainment one can have over the summer break. From then on, every opportunity I had I stormed through the young adult section of my local library. While going through each author that appealed to me, one imparticular struck me as quite interesting. Catherine Jinks, who was the start of my love for science fiction.

The Future Trap and Eye to Eye are both so similar in style, yet so different it is unfair to love them as one piece, rather as separate pieces of artwork.

The Future Trap was loved because of the characters, the ideas, and it was my very first taste of feminine literature.

A girl is accidentally taken to the future where Genetic Engineering is commonplace and used so humans can survive on different planets. However, this has caused a breakdown so Paula (the human from the past) has to try and save everyone against her will. Her feminist behaviour was intriguing and I found her an enjoyment to read. She was strong, firm and stuck to what she believed in. For a Young Adult book, that is something to admire in a novel, now that I look at it from a different perspective. As a child Paula was a heroine, as an adult she is influencial and a wonderful character. One of the stories my future children will be reading!

Eye to Eye I loved because of the characters, the descriptive language and the storyline being incredibly different. Jansi, a scavenger, finds a damaged star ship and slowly forms a relationship with the computer, PIM. The characters in this story were just beautifully painted in the story. Their eventual communication skills are utterly charming to unravel and so easy to cry and laugh along to.

I believe Catherine Jinks influenced me because both stories focused on the issue with communication, developed my understanding of how we're living our lives and how this will effect our future, which is why I love science fiction so much.

What author influenced you to think the way you do, write the way you write and see what you see?

Jinx xx

Writing and Publishing (week 6)

Another week has gone and now time to post another one.
Not entirely happy with the result. I started off writing romance and soon warmed up my mind to thinking quite bitter thoughts for some reason. I seem to write better when one of the characters is bitter about something. One thing I learnt today was nobody is ever totally evil or totally a good person, there is always a balance between the two. I guess this guy is more good but obviously in his past there could have been some evil thats making him go into hiding now

But I'll let you be the judge of that!

Enjoy

The stench of the fire as water sloshed over it snaked around the living room. I listened for any sign of disturbances in my house as I crept to the bedroom, now prepared for another sleepless night as I clutched the cold metal under my pillow while my wife played with my hair on the other side. Every night previous to this she would whisper in my ear for me to lie with her again, for joy to cling to our bodies, but every time she would wrap her warm hands around my chest I wouldn’t make any effort to move from my position. She would soon braid my hair and rest her head on my chest defeated once again. I used to wake up in the middle of the night in a sweat, with my hands covered in blood from clenching, while still holding my knife. My hands are now covered in old and new scars from accidently slashing my hand.
My wife used to say the best part about me was my hands. They were soft once, yet manly at the same time. She would guide my hands over her body just so she could feel my silk strong touch, and now she’s too afraid to even hold my hand. Every scar she feels is a reminder of my fear. It’s as if fear is scraping at my skin slowly taking away my sanity. If a strong man like me is terrified of what creaks in the night then what is my wife going to do when the time comes and they finally take us away? I can’t protect her even with the knife I hold at night. It’s a poor defence compared to the weapons they use to make us cooperate.

Night washed over us as I fell into another trance wondering what to do. We could no longer escape, for it seemed every planet was taken over by them.
I sighed heavily as she tossed and turned next to me while whispering
“What will this world come to if everyone was under their spells?”
“It will die my dear” I rasped back
“So why are we still hiding when there is no hope for us anymore?” she rolled over to me and started braiding my hair “are you so afraid of freedom that you would run and hide for the rest of your life?” I thought about what she said through the whole night. I never answer her and she knows I possibly never will. I am confident though, that one day I will come up with an answer, and when I do finally reply to her I will taste the sweetness of freedom and then can die with her peacefully. Instead, I still taste the bitterness of war and like licking a battery it will remain there until I can think of a reason why following orders and slaughtering innocent people is their answer to the end of war…

Writing and Publishing (week 5)

Yet another entry about my writing class. This one I'm actually somewhat proud of. Perhaps because I can see a little of myself in the character.
The main male character was influenced by a character from my favourite anime Full Metal Alchemist. We're all meant to hate this character, yet at the same time we're driven to love and understand everything he does and somehow that sometimes justifies the lives lost because of him.

Give me your words of advice, I love all of your opinions!

I woke in a cold sweat that clung to my face and chest. My breathing was heavy and as I lay there I began to wonder about the dream that took hold of my mind.
My body felt hot despite me lying on cold ground. Lying there felt peaceful as I let the dream cover my mind in a cloud of knowledge, yet somehow I felt unsafe. Watched. I tried to sit up to check my surroundings but as my arms bent back to lift me pain shot through my wrists and my arms stopped abruptly. I was chained. I lifted my legs and once again pain and a forceful halt seized me from moving much of my body. Straining my head up I could just see ahead of me. Bruises covered my whole body, blood spilled from my slashed skin and I realised what had happened. I was defeated.

“Fucking hell” I yelled “that really hurts. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to beat up on women?” feet walked towards me and I winced as they swung up to kick me again. They stopped in mid air only to say
“But you’re not a woman are you Charlie?” the man laughed and kicked my already bruised thigh. I jumped at the pain forcing both my ankles and wrists to cry in protest of my movement.
“No but I resemble everything there is about women. The mind, the appearance, everything. Except—
“Except the fact that you are not. Shall we negotiate” the man swung his leg over me and sat down on my stomach. He was light for a man of his size, but then again, I thought, he wasn’t as strong as what he looked. His mind was his strong point and no doubt his loyal dogs gave me these bruises and scars. No wonder I was defeated, I was out numbered. He played unfairly.
“I will never negotiate with a man who lies.” I stare straight up at the sky. Perhaps I was afraid of his face, not because of what his true form held, but because if I looked at his face I was afraid upon looking in his eyes, that I would cave in. cave in just like last time when I first saw his face in my village.
“I never lied to you Charlie, I only protected you from the truth. Why don’t you look at me anymore” he touched my face lightly catching a tear that had fallen from my eye “protecting your village is like me protecting your heart. Here let me help you” he unlocked one chain and let my hand slide out of the cuffs. I lashed at him but his hand locked around my broken wrist and I cried out in pain
“Ah ah ah” he tisked at me “naughty girl, be gentle or the cuffs go back on” he laced his fingers through mine and leaned forward blocking my view from the sky so I was forced to look at him. His eyes, I thought I can see again. My body froze up once more and my mind shattered, too afraid of the information held within his eyes. I could see everything. The destruction of my village, the lives I killed, everything that I destroyed was there. He stared unblinking at me until he was satisfied I saw enough. The man I once loved and whom I killed for was punishing me for feeling such love.
And now he too must die…

I lashed with my free hand at the ground as I undug the chains that were buried deep in the earth and swung it towards his face. I heard a crunch and scream as he fell back. My claws extended as anger and pain shot through my body, transforming me to my true form. Breaking the chains through little force I was able to stand once more and defeat him. I looked upon his face one last time as my memories showed through his eyes
“My dear you’re looking beautiful once more.” He said shedding his skin for the last time and revealing his true form.

I hope that was enjoyable. Back to "Highways" about the character above. Helsinki knows!

Jinx xx

Chasing Feathers

Working in a bookshop can have more benefits than you can imagine. Apart from the obvious, a bookshop being the best part-time job for my career path, it also opens your mind and lets you explore stories that you wouldn’t usually notice.

I saw a bookmark with a creature on the front that was utterly charming. On the back it led me to a website (www.liquidmoon.com.au) and there I found the most beautiful children’s book I’d seen in a long time. The story can only be bought online but an extract can be written if you just follow the links.

This is Jodi’s first novel, as she is a Melbourne based artist and usually makes clay-like models of her creatures and even paints occasionally. This is probably why you can only buy the book online, because she wants to make the story a sort of art piece in itself. The illustrations are just gorgeous you must flick through just to see what she creates out of our world

The story is about a normal city; however, if you look closely creatures are operating everything. For example inside the traffic lights are little traffic controllers operating the lights to change from green to red. This job is Yogi’s job however when he finds himself fired, he realises that he’s been searching for something else. As here is the beginning of his journey to follow his dream.
I will certainly be reading this to my kids when I’m older. Just beautiful!

Jinx xx