Saturday, 25 July 2015

It's A Kinda Magic

Cast the circle and come with me into the world of my magicks, of my stories, poetry, flash fiction… my wistful and wild characters from within my mind of imagination where I have often gotten lost in the forest of one world only to get twisted around without a compass in the whirlwind of another and spat out the other side somehow fully intact and wishing it had never ended.

Yes… I love writing worlds, wishes, poetry of my life and how much I have lived and yet painting these worlds hither or thither and have you – the reader – come along for the ride, no matter which time it’s set in.

It’s been a great learning experience for me – being a writer; and I’ve loved every minute of it.

You see, to write the things I’ve written, I’ve found I have had to live a few horror stories in the real world, enjoyed the fantasies of seeing my world from a completely different point of view, daydreamed at the most inappropriate times and wished my afternoons away when I should have been paying attention to where I was, who I was with and the situation of life.
Sure I’ve lost out on quite a few relationships – but then, you gotta realise something, sometimes it’s them who have lost out on being around a writer and seeing how we operate. When in a relationship, we are very selfish and do need that space to be on our own for long periods of time… something which is of an acquired taste; and isn’t for everyone.

I live alone, enjoy horror shows, hate reality shows and have the entire series of ‘Supernatural’ on dvd just so I can watch it over and over to see if my Muse can pick up on anything it may have missed out on in the background of the creator’s imagery or ideas… after all, there’s always loopholes in everything in movies and television shows; that’s how they all keep on going.

And that’s how I write my stories and books – loopholes. I used to go to see movies on the big screen just to see if I could pick up on the loopholes the screenwriters missed out on. When I did, I’d sit down after the movie – while it was fresh in my head – and start writing down in longhand a story about what happened after the movie, or a spin-off from that particular part of the movie that nobody thought of. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

My writing was something I never really though much of until I was in high school, though. This was when I seriously took on some major study at the State Library and looked into working on a book – my first titled ‘Angie’. It never went anywhere and has never been published, but sometimes I do look at it from time to time just to see where I’ve come from – and to remind myself to never slip back into those bad habits.

And I don’t.

Now, when I write, I don’t just jump in and write. I research my subject fully, while I jot down my ideas on the computer in little bits and pieces… I watch as many related movies and television shows as I can and see what information I can pull from those shows and the books I have about the subject – then I start seriously writing.
Last year, I wrote an Angelic Romance… this was difficult to do, seeing that I’m not a religious person (in the way that I don’t believe in God) and that I don’t normally write romantic novels. However, it worked out pretty well… there was just enough violence, sex and the biggest pissing match between Heaven and Hell to keep my proof-readers interested and laughing as well. They couldn’t believe that I usually wrote horror and sci-fi… and some of them had read my sci-fi and found that this romantic side of me quite nice.
But then, one of my friends read some of my Flash Fiction and she said that she loved how good it was; and all that was wrong was the grammar, some spelling mistakes and a little more tightening here and there, and that was it… she loved it more than my Angelic Romance.

But for me, writing is writing. It doesn’t matter what you write, so long you’re happy with what you do with it.

I enjoy the written word – reading it, writing it, collecting it – and yet I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t or wasn’t allowed to have it in my life in some way. The written word is like oxygen – without it, I’d suffocate in some way and my world of colour, of adventure, of fantasy, sex, fun and joy would turn grey and stand still… I would stop and the world within me would seize to exist… and the world surrounding me would leave me behind.