Tag: #amwriting

Thoughts, maybe

Football

In Melbourne, it’s an institution even a religion.  Traditionally it is played on a Saturday afternoon and luckily for us, we are attending such a game.

The stadium is the mcg, one of the best in Australia.  Shortly after the start, I’d estimate there are about 40,000, but eventually, there was 53,000, spectators here for a clash between the two Melbourne based teams.  It is not unheard of to have in closer to 90,000 spectators, and the atmosphere is at times electric.

For the die-hards like me who can remember the days when there were only Victorian-based teams,  in the modern day form of the game, to have two such teams is something of a rarity.

However, it’s not so much about the antics on the field as it is the spectators.  They are divided into three groups, the members, the private boxes and the general public.

But in the end, there is no distinction between any of them because they all know the rules, well, their version of them, and it doesn’t matter who you are, If there is something that goes against your team, it is brings a huge roar of disapproval.

Then there are ebbs and flows in the crowd noise and reactions to events like holding the ball attracting a unified shout ‘ball, or a large collective groan when a free kick should have been paid or by the opposite team’s followers if it should have been.

It is this crowd reaction which makes going to a live game so much better than watching it televised live.  The times when players take marks, get the ball out of congestion, and when goals are scored when your team is behind and when one is needed to get in front.

This is particularly so when one of the stars goes near the ball and pulls off a miracle 1 percent movement of the ball.  These are what we come to see, the high flying marks, the handball threaded through a needle, a kick that reaches one of our players that looked like it would never get there, an intercept mark or steal that throws momentum the opposite way.

This game is not supposed to be a game of inches but fast yards, a kick, a mark, a handball, a run and bounce.  You need to get the ball to your goal as quick as possible.

That’s the objective.

But in this modern game, much to the dismay of spectators and commentators alike, there is this thing called flooding where all 36 players are basically in a clump around the ball and it moves basically in inches, not yards.

It is slow and it is ugly.

It is not the game envisioned by those who created it and there is a debate right now about fixing it.

Here, it is an example of the worst sort.  This game is played in four quarters and for the first two, it is ugly scrappy play with little skill on display.  The third shows improvement and it seems the respective coaches had told their players to open it up

They have and it becomes better to look at.

But this is the point where one team usually gets away with a handy lead, a third-quarter effort that almost puts the game out of reach.  The fourth quarter is where the losing team stages a comeback, and sometimes it works sometimes it does not.

The opposition gives it a red hot try but is unsuccessful.  Three goals in a row, it gave their fans a sniff of hope but as the commentators call it, a kick against the flow and my team prevails.

It is the moment to stay for when they play the winning teams song over the stadium’s loudspeaker system, and at least half the spectators sing along.  It is one of those hair raising on the back of your neck moments which for some can be far too few in a season

We have great hopes for our team this year, and it was worth the trek from Brisbane to Melbourne to see it live rather than on the TV

Leaving the ground with thousands of others heading towards the train station for the journey home there is a mixture of feelings, some lamenting their teams, and others jubilant their team won.  There is no rancor, everyone shuffles in an orderly manner, bearing the slow entry to the station, and the long lines to get on the train.

Others who perhaps came by car, or who have decided to wait for a later train or other transport, let their children kick the football around on the leaf-covered parkland surrounding the stadium.

It is an integral part of this game that children experience the football effect.  Kicking a ball with your father, brothers, and sisters, or friends on that late autumn afternoon is a memory that will be cherished for a long long time.

It’s where you pretend you are your favorite player and are every bit as good.  I know that’s what I used to do with my father, and that is what I did with my sons.

But no matter what the state of the game, it is the weekend the football fans look forward to and whom turn out in their hundreds of thousands.  It is a game that ignites passions, it brings highs and it brings incredible lows.

And, through thick and thin, we never stop supporting them.

Figures of speech

I found this explanation on the internet: ‘a word or phrase used in a non-literal sense for rhetorical or vivid effect.’

We as writers should not use these in our writing because most people might not understand their use.  I think it sometimes adds a degree of whimsy to the story.

I remember some years ago when I working with a Russian chap who’d not been in the country very long, and though he had a reasonable use of English, was not quite up with our figures of speech.

And made me realize when he kept asking me what they meant, just how many I used in everyday use.

Most of these figures of speech use descriptions that do not necessarily match the word being described, such as ‘I dance like I have two left feet’.

And that pretty much sums up how good I can dance.  But …

‘Like a bat out of hell’, not sure how this got into the vernacular

‘Like a bull in a china shop’, describes a toddler let loose

‘More front than Myers’, as my mother used to say, but in context, Myers is the Australian version of the English Selfridges or Harrods or Paris Galleries Lafayette.  It refers to the width of street frontage of the stores

‘As mad as a hatter’, though not necessarily of the millinery kind, but, well, you can guess

‘As nutty as a fruitcake’, provided your fruitcake has nuts in it

You can see, if you get the references, they are somewhat apt, and, yes, they sometimes creep into my stories.

 

Being inspired, maybe

A picture paints … well, as many words as you like.  For instance:

2013-06-29 14.51.16

“I saw him go this way,” Joe said, his face flushed from the effort chasing his quarry.

It was like playing a game of hide and seek, but the stakes were a lot higher.  When we found whom we were seeking, matters could end very badly.

“Towards the Orangery, or behind the trees,” I asked, having come from the opposite direction, but not seeing him.

“He went behind the trees, and then towards the building.”

“Right.  You go to the Orangery down the path and I’ll take the trees.”

“But…”

“Go.  We’re wasting time, and he’s getting away.”

Fortunately, there were few people around at this time, but it could have been worse if this was happening an hour later.

I tentatively headed towards the first tree and edged around it, trying not to look like someone edging around a tree expecting to be attacked…

…by a squirrel.

Two or three of them.  No sign of the man we were chasing.  Perhaps he was in disguise.

Words

They can destroy relationships

They can tear apart friendships

They can start wars

We are sometimes at a loss for words

Sometimes we can’t find the words

And then there those horrible things called crosswords.

There are antonyms and synonyms

Sometimes we use words we don’t know the meaning of because of their similarity with others we do

Then there one or more words that make other words as in anagrams

There are substitute words, words we use around children like fudge instead of, well you get what I mean

There’s no doubt we would be lost without words

Words are to be chosen carefully and thoughtfully

They need to be delivered in an appropriate manner, not in haste, and not in anger

We need to believe in what we’re saying before others will believe it

We need to learn how to express our feelings

We should take advantage of learning English (or any other native language) when at school

We need to start reading as soon as we can and keep up reading as we get older.  One should never underestimate the power reading and writing gives us no matter who we are.

Always have a dictionary by your side.  It is the most valuable book you can own.

And always remember the power of speech can at times move mountains

Being inspired, maybe

A picture paints … well, as many words as you like.  For instance:

tramininnsbruck2

“So this is the getaway car?”  Jack had come up with some crazy ideas in the past, but this was bordering on the best so far.

“It’s part of a diabolical plan.  Who would suspect anyone dressed in tourist gear going for a tram ride, after pulling a heist?”

I thought about it for a minute, trying to find the list of negatives, but there were none.

“He’s come up with worse,” Al muttered, “Like that time in Stuttgart.”

A bus, whose route ended at a police station.  We were lucky it was a terminus and so much rush hour confusion.

“Where does it go?” I asked.

“Haven’t got that far.”

I shook my head.  As usual, he hadn’t thought it through.  “Then find out and then tell me what the plan is.”

 

What’s said cannot be unsaid

You know the moment the words leave your mouth that you have said the wrong thing.

It might be exactly what you were thinking, it might be said before you had time to process what you were going to say, but it’s the look on the face of the recipient that tells the story.

Oh, my God, I shouldn’t have said that!

Your initial reaction is to try and say it’s not what you meant.

Generally, these horrible mistakes come at a point where emotions are running high, and there is an element of truth in the statement, and one that the recipient is aware of, and doesn’t need reminding of.

Not by their best friend, partner or closest relative.

Would it be better if you were not one of those three?

Maybe.

But it isn’t.  Anger, followed by tears, followed by silence.

This is where the statement, time heals all wounds, is brought into play, and you hope that it is true.

Interesting subject, is it not, for the opening gambit of a story?

 

Being inspired, maybe

A picture paints … well, as many words as you like.  For instance:

2013-06-20 10.18.02

“You go straight ahead, I’ll take the side street and we should catch him before he escapes.”

“You go straight ahead.”

Jenkins was about to prove why he should have been left back at the base.  It was not the first time he displayed insubordination.

“I gave an order, Jenkins.  Move out.”

He didn’t.  He stood in front of me, truculence written all over his face.

“I’ll go,” Wallace said.  “We don’t have time for this.”

I shrugged.  He was right.  Bently was getting away while we dithered.

To Jenkins, “You take the side street.  I’ll back Wallace up.”

He seemed more at ease and left.

I’d taken no more than ten steps, Wallace just in sight ahead of me, when I heard the shot, loud and clear, followed by an echo off the close walls.

I double back, carefully headed up the side street, till I came across Jenkins’ body.

If only …

The art of marketing, maybe

The Twitterverse can be a remarkable marketing tool if one can find the right hashtags, and a simple, relatively free, promotional tool.

One such promotional too was a service called CoPromote.  It was based on the idea that you could gain distribution credits to the value of the number of Twitter followers you had, each time you were willing to share another user’s tweet.

The other premise was that you could select categories of tweets you wanted to share, and select the same for your own tweets, in other words targeting a select market.

It worked.

It disappeared one day, and it most disappointing.

Recently a similar promotional tool, CreatorCollabs appeared, and it was CoPromote with a different name.

I thought, yea, it’s back.

My most recent ‘boost’ as they are called it was potentially redistributed to over 800,000 other targeted twitterites.

How good is that?

Sadly, it’s gone again, disappearing into the ether, and a non-responsive website.

Oh well, I’ll just have to wait until it reappears with a new name!

 

A biography in how many words?

Since Twitter moved from 140 characters to 280 characters, it’s like being a new lease on life.

Not.

Still agonizing over what constitutes a ‘killer’ bio.

So much so that I have been trawling through thousands of other bio’s trying to understand what makes a good one.

Quite a lot preface theirs with Dad to or Mom to x wonderful children.  I think that goes without saying, so moving on.

Quite a lot advertise services using hashtags which is a great idea, perhaps in the hope people are looking for said services and will follow them, then to DM them with more information.

I haven’t quite mastered the art of doing that, so I’ll let that one slide for the moment.

But …

That brings up the relevance of using hashtags in the bio.  That gives me a bit more scope to make it to the point.

A quick search of relevant hashtags reveals:

writer, author, thriller, mystery, adventure, writing etc.

All are useful but it doesn’t really carry any pulling power.  We need something that grabs the reader’s attention and do it in the shortest, most succinct manner.

I am a writer, a wordsmith, who, I was once told, swallowed a dictionary.  But, in the light of the current task, you’d think it would be just a ‘walk in the park’ instead of the proverbial ‘pain in the neck’.

Perhaps I could compose a riddle that comes back to the answer of who I am, but who has the time to sit and work it out.

I think that might be a little pretentious.

So, back to square one.

At the moment all I have is ‘aspiring writer’.

It’s not possible that’s enough, is it?

Being inspired, maybe

A picture paints … well, as many words as you like.  For instance:

2013-06-25 19.23.22

“Now you’re sure you got the instructions right?  This is the shortcut?”

Jim looked one way, then the other, and noticed, as I had, there were several other options available.

“Let me look at the map.”

What map.  There was no map that I’d seen when the boss was giving the orders.  It was simply a matter of, ‘go down here, cross there, go about 20 yards, then you’ll see the shortcut’.

I remember Jim asking, ‘what’s at the end of it?’.

It elicited a very terse reply.  ‘More water’.

Jim unfolded the map, expecting like I was, there’d be some lines to follow.

Nothing.  Just a map.  It didn’t even say, ‘you are here’, with a big red arrow.

I shrugged.  Too late now.  “Let’s go.”