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Camy

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Blog Entries posted by Camy

  1. Camy

    Ho hum.

    By Camy,

    I'm sad. Occasionally I think of stuff I've read that I'd like to read again. Yesterday I decided I'd like to re-read 'Carrots & Celery' by Karla Schultz. It was one of the first stories I ever read on-line. It's a sweet story that got better and better as she progressed as a writer (she started it at 16). She posted it to Nifty originally and then Gayauthors hosted her - or rather that story.
    I couldn't find it. After a fruitless search I eventually discovered she's left the net and had the story - and others she subsequently wrote - removed.
  2. Camy

    Aids for storytelling

    By Camy,

    I've been thinking a lot about writing. Today I came across two bits of 'advice' that I found yonks ago and put in a box. Where I originally found them I have no idea. However, as they are worth pondering I thought I'd post them. Here's the first:
    Eight basic necessities to create a story - probably, methinks, sword and sorcery. Though they do adapt.
    1) one Hero
    2) one Villain
    3) one object they both desire
    4) one journey
    5) a couple of sidekicks (generally not more than 3)
    6) one wisened mentor (maybe a sidekick)
    7) one valuable (magical?) item that keeps getting mislaid
    8) one prophesy (or two that contradict)
    The second is a graphic that, sadly, I can't attribute. My bad.

    I hope this helps!
  3. Camy
    Like most people - or some people, anyway - I have been searching, nay, questing most of my life for the perfect religion. I've been hunting a religion that was a fit for me.
    I grew up in the Church of England (Henry VIII's personal (and consequently England's - it's nice to be a King) religion. Henry was miffed because the Pope refused to let him get divorced when he didn't want to off yet another wife). But as religions go C of E wasn't right.... Yes, there were nice hymns. Yes, I was in the choir for almost a month (which enabled me to be first in the queue for lunch). But no, it wasn't perfect.
    Catholisism I didn't try - too many strange frocked men wanting private time. Scientology was okay for the first week, but then they intimated that it would be a good idea if I signed my life over to them and, besides that, they wanted money!
    So onto Buddhism - via all the other major world beliefs. But which one? Zen? Too Zen. Nicherin Shoshu, where my best friend lays his hat, is... well, I tried it, but t'was not to be.
    It was awful. I was beginning to lose faith.
    And then I found Dudeism!
    It was an obvious fit, seeeing as how I hang out at AwesomeDude. But no, Dudeism has nothing to do with our Dude. There is (shock-horror) another Dude. And I have joined the flock!

    I am proud to announce I am now ordained as a priest in The Church Of The Latter Day Dude. But what does this really mean, Camy? I hear you ask. Well, being an official Dudeist priest, I can perform weddings in most states in the U.S.A.. So, if any of you are looking to get hitched you know where to come (as it were).
    It's good to be a Dudeist.
  4. Camy

    Albums

    By Camy,

    I cannot, CANNOT believe that Coldplay's new album, Mylo Zyloto, has been knocked off the number one spot after only a week ... and by (god help us all) Susan Boyle. FUCK! what is it coming to?

  5. Camy

    NaNo No No.

    By Camy,

    I didn't make it to the 50,000 this year, sadly. I know I shouldn't be peeved with myself, or miffed, or standing in disgrace in the corner: but I am - a little (not the standing in the corner bit). I don't like failing. It irks.
    It also irks that 50,000 words isn't actually an awful lot. If I were serious about becoming a writer I should be churning that in a month - with or without NaNoWriMo.
    Bum. I've been 'hoist by my own petard,' stupid git I am. ;)
    Ah well [snort], there's always next year....
  6. Camy

    Guffoo

    By Camy,

    Bloody black dog. I can't seem to shake the thing. And me thinking it was all roses. They have thorns, don't you know.
    'Bath Time' is finished, and should be up this weekend, I hope. Like 'Fellow Travellers', it has a pinch of truth swaddled by muse's wanderings. Apropos of nowt: spooge is such a great word!
    'Probisher' is getting longer and longer, and consequently more and more convoluted. I want to write an 'A does this, then that, then a bit of the other ... and finally shags B' Oh, so I have. Neato. Another one to strike off the list.
    Erm ... well then. I'm on a Nutella binge. I can't get enough of it. And milk. Can you drink too much milk, I wonder? I must be on two to three pints a day. I Love it ... and NO health warning, which makes me suspicious. Consumer paranoia, the cat says. Still, what does she know? She likes cream. Tart.
    Seraph. Damn. I knew there was something I should be doing. Can't. Not cooked enough.
    Grasshopper's 'Darkfall' has reached chapter 22, and is brilliant. Brilliant! Ronyx's 'Brittle as a Bird' is good too. Chapter 15 should be released this week.
    We've been rehearsing a lot. There are two of us, as at the moment, neither of us can handle the nightmare politics of a full band. We've pared the material down, and, as well as the rest of the set, we're now playing two tracks with just piano, guitar and voice. One of them is 'Broken Heart' which is sounding better and better each time we play it. When we're ready, we're planning on videoing one of our gigs and putting it on YouTube.
    Ave.
    Camy
  7. Camy

    The flip side

    By Camy,

    Living in the country is very nice:
    I know this now I don't.
    The grass elsewhere is always greener,
    but move again I won't.
    Ah, hindsight. Suh-weet hindsight.
    The move went well - in as much as we moved. Hard work? I should bleedin' well coco! There aren't enough web-bots or admins to remove the expetives I'd like to write - or masseurs to ease my aching muscles. Obviously I'm not fit enough to live in a house with three floors, 'cause, duh, floors mean stairs. Of course, being avian, I've settled on the top floor. Pity I forgot I can't fly. Humph.
    I really shouldn't moan ... but I will. We ordered broadband on the 6th of September. On the 28th of September we were told that our order had 'become a ghost.' On enquiring what exactly that meant, the chap said the order had gone into a void from which it couldn't be recovered - ever - and consequently it had to be cancelled and then re-ordered - though he wasn't quite so consise. Apparently, what with the de-regulation of telecoms in the UK, these things often happen. For some reason I imagined him sitting around a table sipping tea and nibbling cucumber sandwiches as he told me this, and added, contritely, "we're very sorry."
    How sorry they are remains to be seen. I should be powering up my in-game lazers and killing monsters, now. Instead I'm not. QED.
    Then I run out of petrol. I haven't run out of petrol in years. I almost pride myself (I definitely would if pride didn't come before a fall) on being sensible and not running out of petrol, which, to be fair, is always a royal pain in the arse. Long walk, then I had to buy a can (pay for the can first, then fill it up and pay for the petrol. Can't I pay for both at once? No.).
    Then the next morning I get a parking ticket. This was midweek. The Saturday before, and three days after we moved in, we saw town life as Dickens must have known it.
    Just before midnight there was a HUGE row on the steps of the house opposite as the residents arrived back, drunk. Six of them sit on the stairs watching as one girl goes nuclear on her boyfriend - apparently he'd slept with some other girl and she had the photos on her phone to prove it. And they're screaming, and effing, and blinding, back and forth across the road. And she's crying and hugging him one moment, and shouting and trying to knee him in the balls the next. A bloke comes out to ask them to be quiet and she storms across and tells him to '*&^&*@' OFF! Sensibly, he does, but meanwhile her boyfriend tries to get away on his moped and gets caught. The inevitable end result is that the police arrive. All of a sudden it's utterly quiet, and the curtain twitching audience retires back to watch the midnight movie.
    Until yesterday, when I bought a data dongle to give me a little net time, I've been sidling around to friends houses where they'd roll their eyes and point me to their computer. They say the net's addictive and believe me it is. I've been pining, and not for the fjords. I started by tethering my netbook to my phone, but the phone company wasn't impressed and got quite upset about it.
    Sorry for rambling on, and many thanks to all of you who left me a poem in response to my last post: good they were, indeed!
    Camy.
  8. Camy

    Stoopid bird.

    By Camy,

    Time and time again I do it, and time and time again I berate myself when I ... umm ... wake up.
    Never, never, never, never, never post stuff when in an altered state. There is an off chance that it might be okay, but the odds are similar to those of winning the lottery. Best not to bother - I tell myself yet again. Gah!
    Stupid, stupid me. Now, I must go and stand in the corner for an hour.
    Confused? Here's a poem I wrote about 'it'. Profound or what?!
  9. Camy

    'tis a pain, a pain indeed.

    By Camy,

    I'm talking about revision. You get back what you thought was a tightly polished story, and damn me it's suddenly got a plethora of 'things' that need fixing.
    I have one paragraph - a description of two people sitting on a bench overlooking a meadow - which it seems I've spent a decade on ... and it still isn't quite right. Oh, it was fine before, ;) but now, no. English is a very silly language. There are so many ways of couching the same thing, and each has something to recommend it.
    Then there is tense. I normally write in the first person, so it's a doddle (hmm), but third is so, sooooo much harder. On the one hand it's great, because you can have multiple points of view. But when you're trying to deal with different time lines, it's brain ache. And, and, and .... Pshaw!
    Anyway, if I finish my paragraph in time it will be posted this weekend. And the rest of the story as well.
    Camy: the brain addled Emu.
  10. Camy

    This Thursday!

    By Camy,

    This Thursday, after a month and a week of waiting, we finally get Broadband switched on. And, supposedly, it's between 5 and 7Mb - which, considering it was 0.5MB at our last place, is like giving a kid a Porche.
  11. Camy

    Today

    By Camy,

    Today I am packing my life into boxes.
    Today I am packing up.
    Today all I want to do is veg out
    but for that I am all out of luck.
    Fuck.
    I'm sitting here - when I should be packing boxes - writing this blog and wishing it was Wednesday. If this was a movie: the camera would be on me and the background would melt away, morphing into my new room. Sadly, I don't have a 'make Sunday Wednesday' machine, nor am I in a movie. Hohum.
    Can't loiter here, nattering. Gotta get on (looks around at the bomb site his house has become and a tear rolls gently down his cheek) ... or perhaps I could stay here for a day or two and it'd all be magically done (by pixies and elves)!
    Bye then. I'll be back ... sometime.
  12. Camy

    Done!

    By Camy,

    The 2007 NaNoWriMo is finished! Thank the stars.
    I wrote a story called 'Harvest Time' which started off one thing, and ended up something else entirely - there is no accounting for my muse's whim.
    It's not finished, but hopefully will be soon, and then It'll be edited and released chapter by chapter. It's sequelesque to Nyquist and Feredir.
    Camy

  13. Camy

    It's begun.

    By Camy,

    Oddly, and even though I've been desperately racking my brain (shows what a weeny one I have) for ideas, AND I have ideas written down, I have not the vaguest inkling what I'm going to write. Except, of course, an occasional blog entry cursing my stupidity for even mentioning it in the first place.
    Oh GAWD! What on earth shall I do (he says, tears streaming down his feathered chops).
  14. Camy

    Back!

    By Camy,

    Lord, did I need a hit.
    I was cold turkeying - a neat zombiesque dance I've worked out - all the way to the phone socket. With trembling hands I ripped apart the packaging of my new *free* wireless router. Fumbling in haste, I managed to plug in the filters and slip the cable home with a snick!
    With antici ...
    ... pation I powered up and logged on.
    Drooling as sweet, glorious bits and bytes flooded my system.
    Sweet, sweet WWW.
    Yep, with a new ISP I'm back ... oh yes *shudder* I am.
  15. Camy

    Want

    By Camy,

    Want! Want want want want want want want.
    *sighs*
    I'm wound up tighter than the tightest spring, and I feel like I'm going to snap.
    The human condition sucks.
    *sighs*
  16. Camy

    Trust on-line

    By Camy,

    I'd like it if I could assign more than one category to a post. It would be peachy, because this might well end up being claptrap as well, and possibly include a whine or two. So.
    Trust is the most important part of any relationship, be it in real life or in the relationships we have with people we are never likely to meet. There are people here I like, there are people here I admire, but as far as trust goes is it right, or indeed safe, to open up and be truthful about who I am. Stupid question really. The answer has to be no, but I'm asking it nevertheless.
    I always tend to trust first and then be very disappointed when the trust I've given is thrown back in my face. Ultimately, as humanity spends more and more time on-line, the question of trust is going to become more important. Can you have meaningful relationships with people in cyberspace? Can you open up to a bunch of similar minded people without fear of recrimination? Can one come out from behind a pen name and say 'This is who I really am'?
    My muse is saying yes, do it! I'm not so sure.
  17. Camy

    Walk Under Ladders Pt XXVII

    By Camy,

    I'm marginally happier now since I finished www.camysgaff.com, and Codey's 'Broken Heart'.
    It's kind of strange that I worked harder on that song than I ever work on my own stuff. I know I'm genuinely lazy, but that - that recording - has shown me I can achieve more if I want to. Now all I need is a month in a proper studio and a band. Fat chance.
    My new short 'Gin' was almost finished when I showed it to a mate. Now: I'm ripping it apart and re-writing. I wanted to post it soon, but there it is. One day it'll see the light of day.
    I've had two shorts accepted for 'www.iomfats.org', which I'm chuffed about ... and the weather seems to be getting better, too. I don't know what it is about the weather that affects my moods, but Lord do I get depressed during the winter. Yes, yes, I know it's raining outside. I'm not that stupid.
    Ave.
    *shuffles off to write another line or two before tea*
  18. Camy
    As a few of you know I've recently moved. It was a pain in the rear, and in order to get out in the time required I either had to throw a lot of stuff away or store it somewhere. Unfortunately I'm an inveterate hoarder - I don't mean keeping piles and piles of old newspapers or heaps of rubbish, but I've got a lot of personal stuff like photos and ... well, stuff. You know - or perhaps you're lucky and don't.
    Anyway, I got rid of two van loads at the dump, and then I found out about the concept of storage! W00T!!!
    A little on-line research, and I rented a container for a month. It wasn't cheap, but it seemed to solve a problem. I'd have a month to go through my stuff and 'rationalise.' Then I could throw away the real rubbish and keep the rest. A good idea ... NOT! The month has past and I've been there once. It's still full of ... stuff, and I'm not one iota closer to 'sorting out' anything.
    Ah well. Such is life ....
  19. Camy

    Emus love preening.

    By Camy,

    He might not have a feathered wing
    But he loves to howl and pretends to sing
    He tippy tap typed all through the night
    For thirty days and it came out right.
    Phew. Done, but not close to dusted.
    Congratulations to fellow winner Bruin Fisher, my comrade throughout the 30 days. May your jockstrap never waver!
  20. Camy

    NaNoWriMo 2011

    By Camy,

    I've been pondering this year's NaNoWriMo and trying to decide what I'm going to write. What I want is to end up on December 1st with a finished 50,000 word novella, rather than 50,000 words of a novel I'll never get around to completing.
    I write short stories and I like to think I'm not bad at them; but novels are a different beast altogether. Novels require more than my skittish self seems to want to give. They require serious thought and planning - especially if they're good. Whereas, for me, a novella might be a good length to try for.
    I've just finished 'Spartan Gold', a Clive Cussler (with Grant Blackwood) Fargo Adventure. It was a real ripper! A page turner that kept me up at night. On the other hand I probably won't ever want to read it again because it didn't touch me. It wasn't remarkable in any way. It was true pulp fiction. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with pulp fiction at all. It's just I want to write something better. Ha! I should be so lucky. If I could write a good pulp novel that people couln't put down I'd be over the moon. But still I'd yearn. [guffaw]
    There's nowt wrong with a good dollop of hubris!
  21. Camy

    RIP Jamie

    By Camy,

    http://www.thestar.c...article/1072227
    So very, very sad.
    Looking back on my adolescence I find it hard to believe that every little thing was so important and so vital to my happiness. Whether it was waiting for a parcel that arrived a few days late, or a look from a friend that I misinterpreted. From walking into a room and thinking the reason they all stopped talking was because they were talking about me, to reading the cricket scorer's book and seeing that a really hard catch I made had been put down as a 'duck'. Life back then was lived superfast, and yet time also crawled by. And emotions! Emotions were off any kind of rational scale. Yet, luckily, I'm still here.
    I think that the proliferation of the internet, mobile phones and social media has a lot to answer for. Now you can 'out' someone without having time to think it might be the wrong thing to do. If you're an angry adolescent with a mobile - and adolescents are angry a lot - you can fuck someone's life up forever in under 30 seconds - and with a picture, too.
    We are who we are. I'm out if anyone asks, but I don't flaunt it. After all, it's nobodies business but my own. If I was an adolescent now, in 2011, would I be different? I honestly don't know. I think I might be. I might be in the gay soc at school - if my school now has a gay soc. Jamie was apparently open about his sexuality and the fact that that's even possible has to be a step forward in the right direction. That he was bullied is awful, but, sadly, pack mentality and bullying is inherent human nature.
    I don't have any answers and I really wish I did.
    RIP Jamie.
  22. Camy

    Time crawls

    By Camy,

    We released our album nearly a year ago.
    Eleven months ago I sent a track off to BBC radio. Last week I got a reply. It looks like they're going to play it, and if they do they'll let me know.... I won't be holding my breath. ;)
    You live and learn. In this world of instant communication we seem to expect an instant response. Fat chance: it's really like dancing through amber.
  23. Camy

    Stupid I am.

    By Camy,

    So I trundle off and write a story - or which I'm proud - and post it.
    I'm tidying up when the computer goes 'ting'. Email!
    'twas a rare missive from the Dude! After opening the champagne, and putting the caviar on ice (yick, pah, pass me a bucket) I sit down to read:
    I scratch chin, then panic - or was it the other way around....
    Paranoia wakes up. Everybody hates me. I pace up and down ... up and down ... down and up....
    Then:
    Grinning I sit back, then frown and start to worry that Cole is going to think horrible things.
    Checking emails more than once a minute can get irksome.
    Then:

    So ... consider a public school story on its way!
    Camy
  24. Camy

    Moved

    By Camy,

    So ... we've moved, and I can almost feel the stress seeping out of my body and evaporating ... or whatever happens to stress when it's no longer required.
    For the last couple of days I've felt totally dispossessed - like I was acting in a film with a weird script, and over which I had no control. Most odd.
    Now it's the cats that are stressed out. The poor things are going off their heads with angst. And because they can't go out for a couple of weeks, they spend most of their time slinking around arguing - or looking longingly out of the window at their new territory.
    Back to normal soon, methinks. Possibly ... hopefully.
    Camy
  25. Camy
    "They don't like it up 'em, Captain Mainwaring!" This line from 'Dad's Army' set the tone for Katie (ancient siamese beasty) having her claws clipped. She's pretty much house-bound nowadays and her claws are ... well 'savage' belies the truth. 'Wickedly Bitching Sabatier' comes closer.
    You don't want her on your lap: unless you're wearing chain-mail, and unfortunately, mine's rusty.
    So ... I tried. The thing is with cats: they're psychic. She knew I was nervous even before I decided to start. Now I have a knee like a pin cushion, and no thanks from anybody.
    Still, on the upside, I got one paw done. Only three more to go!
    Yours, most miffed,
    Camy

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