tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302168502024-03-13T10:41:42.295+00:00The Inkpot FilesInkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.comBlogger582125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-65704503502879966052009-05-26T01:49:00.004+01:002009-05-26T01:52:56.363+01:00This blog is under quarantine<div align="justify"><br /> </div><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkDF54Zv-RBjp5IQIJ-EDK6AlU9s2lb8WN0ChJyl39aIz-HZASFYxQFeTCPWzZlcDOi198vc5_0bOyqYinvCQcnWQ7mYYoBziqhR8NzPRk2f8wcSiD6xdIPYbqATTDup6VhyGV/s1600-h/quarantine.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339928517558449650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 118px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkDF54Zv-RBjp5IQIJ-EDK6AlU9s2lb8WN0ChJyl39aIz-HZASFYxQFeTCPWzZlcDOi198vc5_0bOyqYinvCQcnWQ7mYYoBziqhR8NzPRk2f8wcSiD6xdIPYbqATTDup6VhyGV/s400/quarantine.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><p align="justify">The blogger responsible for this blog has been infested with zombies. We advise extreme caution.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339928875806101970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 96px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFiG_s6u99_qpcsgKmelzCvRAZmQMYqONdsY9XSv-qiOnX3uwsFHDtHL7tQWyoQTZkD7Byumd02UcFh6PJ5kgAjJ8h-3QgTVa6-aZYO5Bl-N8d4e3FueoUtmjglGRog6tvNe1P/s400/images.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p>Blogging will continue once all the undead have been decapitated and their bodies safely disposed of. We apologise for any inconvenience this infestation has caused.</p>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-3163830824658809532009-05-15T11:00:00.000+01:002009-05-15T11:00:00.241+01:00Challenge Inkpot Friday<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMx6aL60ew3sYdnOX2byvdZb8kGrAnRkOK87Xc5KDUxJOvXEjsAefI0xFGaliIZe0tbIWYkeKuRPNjxmXN3dwXCt-7fngYgABeQHAOrjyKJX8UoZzNuY2b1IuNSVvRMMvTz1r/s1600-h/bshscary.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334952386596016370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 340px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMx6aL60ew3sYdnOX2byvdZb8kGrAnRkOK87Xc5KDUxJOvXEjsAefI0xFGaliIZe0tbIWYkeKuRPNjxmXN3dwXCt-7fngYgABeQHAOrjyKJX8UoZzNuY2b1IuNSVvRMMvTz1r/s400/bshscary.jpg" border="0" /></a> All right, readers, I'm fighting fit and ready for another Friday Challenge. So, put on your thinking heads and fill the comment section with tasks for me to complete by Monday. I can't wait to read what you've got in store.</div><div align="justify"> </div><br /><br /><em>Thanks to </em><a href="http://www.dailypets.co.uk/" target="_blank"><em>Daily Pets </em></a><em>for this adorable photograph. Visit their website for a daily dose of dog and cat cuteness.</em>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-54962864442465202572009-05-14T11:00:00.000+01:002009-05-14T11:00:00.866+01:00What do you identify with?<div align="justify">Last week literary agent <a href="http://nathanbransford.blogspot.com/2009/05/writing-as-identity.html" target="_blank">Nathan Bransford </a>blogged about writers who get too tied up with writing being their identity. I don't really understand the purpose of his original post (it has since been edited to say 'don't let the publishing process define you') apart from the fact that it is unpleasant when writers spam you, send you angry emails and phone calls and generally demonise agents and the publishing industry. However, he did bring up a couple of points that I found interesting and, immediately upon reading them, offensive.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">1. Is writing a hobby? While he has retracted this somewhat, in his original post he likens writing to a hobby such as stamp collecting. I am sure that loads of people write as a past time but just because you do something in your spare time doesn't mean it is a hobby. Writing demands a lot of time and input, even when you are not sitting in front of the computer typing out words, and to improve your writing you have to put in a lot of hours. If you want to get your work published - and change your writing status from 'hobby' to professional - you have to work hard at honing your craft, editing your work and sending it out, which all takes time and effort. At one time all authors were in the hobby category. I wonder if they had thought of it as such would they have ever got published?</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">2. The second point that caught my interest was his distrust of people who claim that 'writing is more important than oxygen.' Now, I don't know if I've ever used that phrase, but I know that I need to write. Whether anyone reads what I write or not, whether I get paid for my work or not, it doesn't matter. I have to write. The same way I have to draw and act. I need a creative outlet. If I don't, then it bottles up inside me and I don't feel right. From talking to other creative people, I know they feel the same way. It doesn't make me special, it isn't a virtue, it is just the way I am. I'm sure other people have to sing to keep an even keel or play sports. Does it make me sound over dramatic when I say I have to write? Is it something I would put in a query letter? No, because when you are contacting an agent it is for a business relationship and I don't think it has a place in a business letter. Do I expect my agent to understand my need to write? Most definitely. I would expect anyone who deals with creative people to understand their need to create and, at times their pretension about it. Understand and accept and help keep grounded in a business sense, not request that it be placed in a hermetically sealed metal box.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">My point is, writing is a creative art. It requires part of your soul. It is part of your identity (part, not whole) and it is personal. However, it doesn't mean you can't distance yourself from your work, put your business hat on when needed, take criticism and behave professionally. Every creative profession is the same. I don't believe if you could separate it from you and put it away neatly that any great works of art would ever have been produced.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">What do you think? What makes up your identity? Can you separate parts of your life that mean a lot to you and keep them strictly professional, be they job, relationships or hobby? Do we need to contact Mr Spock for some Vulcan advice on how to suppress our emotions?</div>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-43070338688927699142009-05-13T11:00:00.001+01:002009-05-13T11:00:00.385+01:00I'm as weak as...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8iiLqR6qW488UGvraSmdel7ASb6gA9AI-75e6w_qi03NwOPxXfgT5H4qdwjhplLE7N9IopbrjzMoFJzHmlVa6VEkmGyMGpOJof1BWV6dlAkjs2K1V6GBfd8F5_oRzY77itqPZ/s1600-h/persianginger.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334952020892993186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8iiLqR6qW488UGvraSmdel7ASb6gA9AI-75e6w_qi03NwOPxXfgT5H4qdwjhplLE7N9IopbrjzMoFJzHmlVa6VEkmGyMGpOJof1BWV6dlAkjs2K1V6GBfd8F5_oRzY77itqPZ/s400/persianginger.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I'm not well. :(</div><div> </div><div><em>Thanks to </em><a href="http://www.dailypets.co.uk/" targets="_blank"><em>Daily Pets </em></a><em>for this dose of cuteness. Check out their website for more adorable photographs</em>.</div>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-36694966361372081492009-05-12T11:00:00.001+01:002009-05-12T11:00:00.418+01:00Writing tip of the day<div align="justify">A popular nugget of writing advice suggests that you read your story out loud after finishing it. Hearing it being read helps to identity repetition, awkward phrasing and misspelled words that might be skimmed over while reading quietly. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">While I agree that this is a good practice, I sometimes find it difficult to listen to the flow of the piece when I am reading it out loud. I get caught up on how to read it and often get no value of whether it reads well or not.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">To help overcome this I have found recording reading it aloud and playing it back a big help. I like to listen to it with my eyes closed, as if it were written by someone else. I find this a great help in identifying pace problems, plot inconsistencies, stilted language and also if the story holds up or not. I find it helpful to listen to it again and again, when sometimes repeat readings can make the words meaningless before my eyes.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">Have you ever tried recording your story and listening back to it? Did you find it helped?</div>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-3332001388856227312009-05-11T19:13:00.007+01:002009-05-11T19:25:24.021+01:00Challenge #3<div align="justify">Those eagle eyed among my readers will notice I had not two but THREE challenges last Friday, the third being provided by <a href="http://ying-ko-4.livejournal.com/" target="_blank">Ying_Ko_4</a>. Apologies for not mentioning it earlier, I only noticed it today. Here is my very rushed story in response to that challenge. Thank you, <a href="http://ying-ko-4.livejournal.com/" target="_blank">Ying_Ko_4</a>, it was fun to write. Enjoy.</div><div align="justify"></div><br /><br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=30216850#" name="ToggleMore">More...</a><span class="collapse"><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">It's the End of the World as we Know It.</strong></span></div><div align="justify"><br />Inky sighted through her binoculars at the deserted petrol station forecourt below. Beside her Janna, her German Shepherd Dog, growled. Inky rested a hand on the dog’s head.<br />‘I know, Babe.’<br />She looked over her shoulder at the way she had come. Already the street was filling up with the shambling undead. The smell of the rotting corpses had become visible after twenty five days of continual sunshine. A halo of flies surrounded the hoard wherever they went.<br />Inky scratched her head. If she delayed any longer the zombies would catch her, but she dreaded going out into the sun once more. Its rays, which she once longed for, had become lethal and even a short exposure to them sapped her energy.<br />‘Come on, Janna.’<br />Inky scratched the dog behind the ear before leaving the safety of the building and running down the steps to the road. She had no choice but to go on. Without caffeine she wouldn’t survive another twelve hours of the suns leeching, and the petrol station was her last hope.<br />‘Please God there’ll be some left in this one.’<br />She jogged out into the street, her dog at her side. The zombies howled, catching sight of fresh meat, drawing more of their kind out of the abandoned shops and businesses that lined the street. Inky clenched her fists and urged her legs to move faster. From the moment she had left the shade of the building she had felt the sun sucking the life from her. Apathy threatened to overwhelm her. If she didn’t reach the shadow of the forecourt she would stop dead on the pavement, easy prey for her pursuers.<br />Janna nudged her leg and whined, giving Inky enough strength to run the remaining distance to the petrol station. Once underneath the awning, she stopped to catch her breath. The sprint had taken a lot out of her. If she didn’t find caffeine fast, she didn’t know if she would be able to make it to the end of the street.<br />Janna sniffed around the idling pumps, the high price per unit frozen in memorial to a way of life that was now gone. Outside the shop peat briquettes and bundles of sticks lay equally obsolete, thanks to the twenty four hour heat and sun.<br />The door to the shop stood open. The dog approached it cautiously. She paused, body tense, as she sniffed the threshold. After a few moments she turned to her master and barked once. The all clear signal.<br />‘Good dog, Janna.’<br />Inky slapped her pet on the back as she went into the shop. She wouldn’t have survived so long if it hadn’t been for Janna. Once in the shop she went straight to the dog food aisle and tore open a bag of kibble, spilling it onto the floor for the dog to eat. She took a bottle of water from the refrigerated cabinet. A plastic bowl full of lollipops stood on the shop counter. Inky tossed the sweets and filled the bowl with water. Janna took turns drinking and lapping up the food.<br />Inky poured the remainder of the water over her face and hands to cool down and then went looking for caffeine. There were no fizzy drinks left in the cabinets, all the chocolate had been cleared off the shelves. Even the coffee had been taken.<br />‘No.’<br />Inky pounded her head against the counter, making the cash register ping.<br />Janna looked up and whined.<br />‘It’s ok, Baby,’ Inky soothed the dog. ‘There has to be another way.’<br />She remembered there was caffeine in some pain relief medication. She started reading through the list of ingredients on what was left in the shop.<br />Behind her, Janna tensed, the mane along her back bristling. She started to growl, teeth bared, and then lunged forward barking.<br />Inky twirled. She hadn’t noticed the door behind the counter. It opened slowly, revealing the darkness of a room beyond. She grabbed a bottle of motor oil to use as a weapon.<br />A man appeared in the doorway. Janna whimpered and shrank back, pressing her body against Inky’s legs. The man wasn’t a zombie. He looked vaguely human, wore a smart suit and tie and had a large, smug grin plastered on his face. He looked familiar. Inky knew she had seen him before. She recognised his face from the posters that hung on the lamp posts out on the street.<br />He was a politician.<br />‘Join us, Inky,’ the politician said. ‘We have been watching you and we think you are just what our party needs. Come with us. We’ll protect you from the zombies. We have plenty of caffeine. We promise we’ll keep you safe.’<br />‘Never,’ Inky said. She threw the motor oil can at the politician. It hit him in the face, pushing his smile askew, but he kept coming with arms out stretched.<br />‘Join us.’<br />Inky screamed. She ran out the door and onto the forecourt. The zombies had almost reached the petrol station. She ran out onto the road, but her way was blocked by an army of politicians. She didn’t know their names, but she knew in her bones that they were the ministers for health, finance, justice and education. The junior ministers walked at the front, their arms outstretched, their grabbing hands like claws. At the back of the politicians, driving them forward, was the Taoiseach. Inky couldn’t see him, but she knew he was there and the thought filled her with dread.<br />She knelt on the hot tarmac, threw her arms around Janna and buried her face in the dog’s fur.<br />‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.<br />The sun drained Inky’s energy. She could no longer stand. She crawled on her hands and knees away from the politicians towards the zombies. Janna limped after her.<br /><br /></div></span>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-75865509268534559732009-05-11T16:21:00.005+01:002009-05-11T17:18:12.482+01:00Challenge #1<div align="justify"><a href="http://mambang-ultra.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Shadowthorne,</a> you set me a tough task with this challenge. For those of you who weren't around Friday, <a href="http://mambang-ultra.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Shadowthorne</a> challenged me to write a poem/prose extolling the virtues of something/someone/someplace that I hate the most. I decided to write about James Bond. I have hated agent 007 since I was a very small child. His womanising, chauvinism and smarmy charm always fills me with anger, so I thought he would be an appropriate subject for this most challenging task. I picked Goldfinger as my movie of choice to suffer through over the weekend so that the full glory of Mr Kiss Kiss Bang Bang would be fresh in my memory. Here is my offering, <a href="http://mambang-ultra.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Shadowthorne</a>. It hurt me to write it. I hope you enjoy.</div><div align="center"><br /><br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=30216850#" name="ToggleMore">More...</a><span class="collapse"><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">Why I love James Bond </span></strong></div><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;"><div align="justify"><br /></span></strong>To anyone who has watched a James Bond movie, I would have thought the answer was obvious. In all his incarnations, agent 007 is handsome, witty, intelligent, one heck of a fighter and whoa! what a lover. However, for those of you who have not yet succumbed to the pleasures of ‘oh, James’, here are some of the reasons I love the man who is licensed to kill. </div><div align="justify"><br />He is a spy. Who hasn’t dreamed of being, or being seduced by a spy? Their lives are so exciting. They get to travel to exotic locations, play with expensive gadgets before they are released to the rest of the population, tango and look good in evening dress. While I’m sure the reality is slightly less glamorous than the movies depict, we can all be spies vicariously through Mr Bond without any of the down sides. For the short while we are watching him on screen we get to be a spy with him, revelling in his daring escapades, his irresistibleness to women and his witty one liners. Who wouldn’t be entertained by that, I ask you? </div><div align="justify"><br />He is so good looking. The only thing better than being 007 is being one of his conquests. While I wouldn’t mind meeting any of the various Bonds, Sean Connery would be my first choice. With his brooding dark eyes and smooth Scottish accent, I can see why every woman he met fell into his arms. It would be worth losing your psychic vision, as Jane Seymour did in Live and Let Die, just to have one night of passion with Mr Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. </div><div align="justify"><br />He is so informative. I’ve learned a lot from watching James Bond movies. Some of it is applicable to everyday life – like how to avoid skin suffocation (which has been known to happen to cabaret dancers) from Goldfinger, while the other life lessons – such as how to act in a car chase and always wear evening dress under your wet suit – I haven’t had to use as yet. However, I am prepared for all eventualities. </div><div align="justify"><br />He has impeccable dress sense. Whether in a tux or a pair of shorts, 007 is always perfectly dressed for the occasion. And, being a spy, he is very toned and well worked out, so clothes hang perfectly on him. I particularly like this towelling one piece beach suit. You just don’t see enough of those around anymore. </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334599506570975602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 398px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-1v4ILeBAuDXMvResqf_lYi_QDHER0nreSf8mvkSrh-D_fAmBn7HsbsXgKJnxL1L5S6dDeJUOrrhMUrpZsrTQ_OzisI_x0PdZCveeyIn7kLjYJLYRTmYpbdi4tUoOaoCSwHdP/s400/jamesbond.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="justify"><br />He is a man of action. From parachuting off ski slopes to amphibious car chases, Bond never stints on action. Good looks and witty one liners will only carry a film so far. In Bond movies, the action fills in the rest. The Roger Moore days did tend to take the stunts a bit too far at times, but even still they were enjoyable. Daniel Craig makes Bond too human. I prefer the Connery days where Bond was stylish and deadly. </p><p align="justify"><br />His gadgets. Even the movies made in the sixties have gadgets which are pretty state of the art. While small cameras and GPS are pretty standard for us ordinary folk these days, who wouldn’t kill to have their car kitted out by Q? </p><p align="justify"><br />And finally, the bad guys. What would Bond be without his villains and, even more so, the villains henchmen? Who can think of Goldfinger without Oddjob, his bowler hat wielding thug? Or Blofeld without his cat? And let us not forget Jaws, silver toothed fiend in both The Spy Who Loved Me and Moonraker. Because James is so wonderful we want to see him pitted against a villain of equal calibre. No second rate baddies for our boy, please. </p><p align="justify"><br />These are only a few of the many reasons why I love James Bond so much. If you haven’t watched one of his films in a while, or if you feel lukewarm about our favourite British spy, I urge you to watch one of his movies. You’ll be hugely entertained, feel better about life afterwards and I can guarantee you’ll be hankering after a martini, shaken not stirred.<br /></p></span>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-36798608222161782622009-05-11T10:55:00.003+01:002009-05-11T11:07:55.757+01:00Challenge #2<div align="justify">Wow, <a href="http://mambang-ultra.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Shadowthorne</a> and <a href="http://matterofgray.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">SSQuo</a>. You've kept me busy all weekend with your wonderful challenges (and I think you both passed on your colds through the comments!). </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">I've decided to split the challenges into two posts. This post is in response to <a href="http://matterofgray.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">SSQuo'</a>s challenge to write a Haiku about my intruder. The second post in answer to <a href="http://mambang-ultra.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Shadowthorne's</a> challenge will follow this afternoon.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">So, here is my Haiku.</div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Intruder Knocking</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Snail burglar at the window</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Slimy prints on glass</strong></span></div>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-87635596471554395292009-05-08T12:29:00.001+01:002009-05-08T12:29:49.004+01:00The Friday Inkpot Challenge is Back!!!That's right - the moment you've been waiting for has arrived! This time the challenge is going to be even more extreme as I only have until Monday to achieve whatever evil, insane and down right dastardly tasks you will set me.<br /><br />Ok, you know the drill. Leave your challenges in the comment section. I look forward to reading what you come up with. Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-2177521557615635982009-05-07T15:22:00.001+01:002009-05-07T15:22:11.426+01:00Can you tell me how to get to the coco bongo club?I watched the movie The Mask the other day and it sure did bring me back in time. I was thirteen when it came out in the cinema and it immediately became a favourite. I loved Stanley Ipkiss, the downtrodden nice guy played by Jim Carrey, and I really rooted for him to win the heart of the beautiful Tina Carlyse played by Cameron Diaz. I loved the movie so much I watched it many times in the cinema and on video, drew pictures of the characters and re-enacted the scenes in the Coco Bongo nightclub with my cuddly toys. I even called a soft toy monkey after Tina (yes, I was an innocent child).<br /><br />The Mask was just as popular with the other girls in my school. The girl who sat beside me in class named her dog Milo after Stanley's dog in the movie. Unfortunately her Milo had a much shorter and less exciting life than his screen counter part. He was knocked down and killed outside his house a short while after being bought. <br /><br />One of the things that I really liked about the movie was the forties themed night club the Coco Bongo club. Another favourite movie, Blast from the Past, also features a hip happening spot called Club Forties. I love the dance routines and music that take place in these clubs. They ooze style. <br /><br />Now, I know that these are movies, but my question to the more widely travelled among my readers is this - do clubs like these actually exist in the real world? Is there a joint as cool as the Coco Bongo, and if so, where is it and would you recommend it?<br /><br />My second question is, what hotel/bar/restaurant/etc in movie land do you wish existed so you could visit it? Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-41212526012655879602009-05-06T14:34:00.003+01:002009-05-06T14:47:27.943+01:00The Books I'm reading at the moment<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvxJy6Ssna5RuRr5sOkowQw8whnsl3jUmPp9QeQN15q5drtFFFyFuRT71SeU-R4z71oXGXMSO7al3O3iRnHyArGEbkQTz7jKZMzGn39nKHbwgh4czWbDoaDXY0St84VH0Ur2W3/s1600-h/books.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332704139118921970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvxJy6Ssna5RuRr5sOkowQw8whnsl3jUmPp9QeQN15q5drtFFFyFuRT71SeU-R4z71oXGXMSO7al3O3iRnHyArGEbkQTz7jKZMzGn39nKHbwgh4czWbDoaDXY0St84VH0Ur2W3/s400/books.jpg" border="0" /></a> The books on my night stand at the moment are:-</div><div align="justify">1. <strong>Fatal Revenant by Stephen Donaldson</strong> - The most recent book in the final tales of Thomas Covenant quartet. The first three books were recommended to me by a friend. I found them dull and heavy going. Despite not enjoying them, I struggled through the next three volumes and the first volume in the final chronicles. I started this book months ago and it will probably take me another few months before I finish it. I can only take a few pages of Donaldson's verbose purple prose at a time.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">2. <strong>Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K Dick</strong> - a classic from one of the greats. This book provided the inspiration for Blade Runner, but is not like the movie at all. Not the first time I've read it nor will it be the last, it is always fun to revisit old favourites.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">3. <strong>Fevre Dream by George R. R. Martin</strong> - I bought this book due to the amount of praise for the author on Amazon. I haven't started it yet. I like the cover, but the blurb doesn't entice me.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">So what are you reading at the moment?<br /></div>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-83138701280347133042009-05-04T11:00:00.000+01:002009-05-04T11:00:01.071+01:00Writing Tip of the Day<div align="justify">This tip I learned from the writer <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M._M._Kaye" target="_blank">M.M Kaye </a>and I find it very useful.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">When you finish your writing session for the day, always finish mid sentence. That way, when you resume writing the next day you will either remember where you left off or set your creative juices flowing to finish the sentence you left hanging.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">It is much more inspiring than looking at a blank page or a neatly tied up paragraph and helps you know where to go next.</div>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-6158489627612090382009-05-03T16:42:00.002+01:002009-05-03T16:43:33.510+01:00Sunday Toon<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-jw1Nu3BuVYMjHfdMArrorAjogWE-9WDEpzUNtt35stHIFy7HD6caZkj5_EL2yZ5RpKbNKkczY180b6IOB4QRlfUxgMTI_KFH1d3GUdCxfttrgYysTanDniy3rA3dC5ij0oOn/s1600-h/zombie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331623712296904210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 301px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-jw1Nu3BuVYMjHfdMArrorAjogWE-9WDEpzUNtt35stHIFy7HD6caZkj5_EL2yZ5RpKbNKkczY180b6IOB4QRlfUxgMTI_KFH1d3GUdCxfttrgYysTanDniy3rA3dC5ij0oOn/s400/zombie.jpg" border="0" /></a>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-85668362196532363502009-05-01T15:32:00.001+01:002009-05-01T15:32:06.564+01:00Fun fabrication fact FridayWord: Pins<br />Meaning: Slang term for legs<br />Origin: During the early years of the twentieth century bored aristocrats used to play an early form of ten pin bowling using five servants and a marble sphere taken from a plinth. The servants were told to stand at the bottom of a hill, usually near a pond or lake, and the marble ball would be pushed down the hill towards them. The winner of the game was the person who had the most 'strikes' by knocking the servants down and pinning their legs with the marble ball. Players used to refer to the servants' legs as pins, referring to how many they had crushed and/or broken. The term entered common usage in 1929. It also became the name for the wooden manniquins that eventually replaced servants in this brutal game. <br /><br />Have a good weekend everyone and for those of you enjoying a day off on Monday - have an extra good weekend. :)<br /><br />Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-58947402791894318242009-04-30T16:50:00.001+01:002009-04-30T16:50:54.454+01:00Is there anything better...Than riding in a convertible on a sunny day with the top down and the radio on full blast? It's my treat for finishing chapter 11 today. My brain is tired, my eyes are sore and my fingers ache but my shoulders are warm. Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-50927383960906157022009-04-29T11:00:00.000+01:002009-04-29T11:00:01.034+01:00The verdict is inThe <a href="http://bookblog.net/gender/genie.php" target="_blank">Gender Genie </a>has spoken and concluded that I am male.<br /><br />What does it have to say about you?Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-55604414104893377882009-04-28T11:00:00.000+01:002009-04-28T11:00:00.328+01:00The Book I'm Reading at the Moment<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzCiUeRMQXrYcptEeYlLaIcNNAroWIwWZRr7ynD_EtSLmDfcgutQmjCnSbBHvlN3GOdXY6fr1Oc0Y-BHe96ToDCJlYqetBKCv_dIWHaE4mpPwvPj2x8QOYC3CBO2gvvsot9vO8/s1600-h/slumdog.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329405636036247218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzCiUeRMQXrYcptEeYlLaIcNNAroWIwWZRr7ynD_EtSLmDfcgutQmjCnSbBHvlN3GOdXY6fr1Oc0Y-BHe96ToDCJlYqetBKCv_dIWHaE4mpPwvPj2x8QOYC3CBO2gvvsot9vO8/s400/slumdog.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-50526568641429456512009-04-27T11:00:00.000+01:002009-04-27T11:00:00.154+01:00Writing Smiting - the movie!<div align="justify">You may remember my post at the beginning of the month about being blocked up and wanting mental Draino. The title of the post was <a href="http://theinkpotfiles.blogspot.com/2009/04/writing-smiting.html#comments" target="_blank">Writing Smiting </a>. While I think the imaginary in that post was pretty clear, here is a short animation to illustrate it, just in case you were waiting for the movie adaptation.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gf_gC-sROJI&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gf_gC-sROJI&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-71820153928308589772009-04-26T11:00:00.000+01:002009-04-26T11:00:01.027+01:00A treat for youInstead of a Sunday Toon this week, I thought I would introduce you to my true self.<br /><br />Don't get nightmares now!<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6POTgRsL-kg&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6POTgRsL-kg&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-82770075976492578902009-04-25T11:00:00.000+01:002009-04-25T11:00:00.544+01:00Tweet the Meat<div align="justify">As soon as Twitter opened its virtual doors a whole host of Twitter based zines started up. <strong>Tweet the Meat</strong> is a horror fiction market publishing Twitter only stories. It is accepting submissions from today (only accepts submissions at the weekend) and will launch officially in May. It publishes horror/surreal tales of 140 characters or less. The payment is $1 per story, which isn't bad. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">To read submission guidelines, visit their <a href="http://tweetthemeat.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">blog here</a>.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">To read some sample tweets or follow them, visit their <a href="http://twitter.com/tweetthemeat" target="_blank">Twitter account here</a>.</div>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-26405305723692384652009-04-24T11:00:00.001+01:002009-04-24T11:00:01.037+01:00Danger!Danger!<div align="justify">I found an intruder trying to get into the house through the patio door yesterday.</div><br /><div align="justify"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328071644301926338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYn2ZuYjoejYsbwpXS3uHybbNAFtKbhAfQ3BOa_UgZ8T6-RUFuzlTpfPfvmxR_dDq9H5dQ-DcswuILoZ3PiUKveTfy91JIQYOfDB-gueo11A1J1MFZbgfnHv7kbGiGp8kRDTMT/s400/IMG_0466.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div align="justify">Luckily he wasn't much of a threat.</div>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-86701579269156809342009-04-23T11:00:00.002+01:002009-04-23T17:57:41.771+01:00Character Building<div align="justify">When I prepare for an acting role I play very much by the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stanislavski" target="_blank">Stanislavski </a>rule book. I read through the script and see what the character has to say about themselves, what actions they make and what the other characters have to say about them. I think of my character in terms of what colour or what animal would best describe them, and then I step inside them and I try to figure them out on an emotional level. What has led the character to the place they are now at? Why are they the way they are? How would a typical day run for them? How would they react in a supermarket, on public transport, at a disco?</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">Some characters have simple motivations and are easy to work out. Others are more complex, but it is important to remember that all of them are performing actions because they are driven by want, desire and need. Characters don't see themselves as good or evil. In their mind, they are the hero. They may do things that are selfish or that hurt other people, but it is because their good intentions went wrong, or they feel threatened or they are seeking revenge for wrongs committed against them or their loved ones.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">When you write a book, you have to get under the skin of each of the characters, not just one. I find this particularly interesting when it comes to the villain in Gift. I think I have created a well rounded character in the antagonist, and I hope other people will think so too. In fact, perhaps some people will even root for the 'bad guy'. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">Then again, I hope I have managed to portray the complexities in the other characters as well. In many ways the main character is as much the villain as the one I have labeled the antagonist. After all, no one is wholly good or evil, and isn't it much more interesting when characters have flaws as well as strengths?</div>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-87790469513828494742009-04-22T11:00:00.000+01:002009-04-22T11:00:00.998+01:00Novel Writing Update<div align="justify">I like to keep track of my writing and I use a spreadsheet to do this. </div><div align="justify">On the first page I record my daily word count, with horizontal columns for the months and vertical comments for the days. At the end of each month I tally the words and divide them by the number of days I have written to get an average daily total.</div><div align="justify">On the second page I record the number of books I've read, by month, including the start and finish dates and my overall rating.</div><div align="justify">On the third page I list the short stories I have submitted to markets, the date they went out, the number of words, the date I received a response and the payment and publication date if any. I also colour code all stories that have been responded to (red for rejection, green for acceptance) so I can tell at a glance which markets I haven't heard back from (they remain black).</div><div align="justify">So far this month the second and third pages of my spreadsheet aren't getting much use, but I am pleased to say that the first one is. I love to see the word count rising at the bottom of the page. It gives me a thrill.</div>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-68873069538025987132009-04-21T11:00:00.001+01:002009-04-21T11:00:00.350+01:00Writing Distractions<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/J_gPXtL4Or0&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/J_gPXtL4Or0&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><div align="justify">It was so warm and sunny yesterday I kept the patio door open while I wrote. Mid morning, Fudge lured me outside onto the decking to play with him. The sun was warm, the air was fresh and the world was still. I felt so relaxed and peaceful. Playing with Fudge made me happy. Some say heaven is a perfect moment captured for eternity. If that is true, then moments like these will make up my heaven. For about ten minutes I was at peace, relaxed and without a care in the world as I enjoyed a simple game surrounded by nature. It is hard to focus on writing when I have distractions this good to tempt me. </div>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30216850.post-25873611022133975902009-04-20T11:00:00.005+01:002009-04-20T11:15:30.361+01:00And the Honest Scrap Award goes to...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcbnaoJJ9NwglHdTV2AK3GArU1UAIB3OLxbVdXYTmJuozvLdoiAYEAnvKOTYt6B_lZpmA5QhAHGyhvpjzQalqtVVgN3Ew_vgXDSkPZkVDuegmIuT4ksxrWIK1QP2ccpOlTpx-g/s1600-h/honest_scrap.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326011474037191186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 192px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcbnaoJJ9NwglHdTV2AK3GArU1UAIB3OLxbVdXYTmJuozvLdoiAYEAnvKOTYt6B_lZpmA5QhAHGyhvpjzQalqtVVgN3Ew_vgXDSkPZkVDuegmIuT4ksxrWIK1QP2ccpOlTpx-g/s400/honest_scrap.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><a href="http://bonehillsboneyard.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">L R Bonehill </a>has very kindly awarded my blog the <strong>Honest Scrap Award</strong>. Check out his blog <a href="http://bonehillsboneyard.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">here</a> and his beautifully horrifying short story 'In the Garden' <a href="http://52stitches.blogspot.com/2009/04/in-garden_05.html" target="_blank">here, in 52 Stitches</a>. </span></div><br /><br />The Award and Rules:<br /><br />This award is bestowed upon a fellow blogger whose blog content or design is, in the giver’s opinion, brilliant.<br /><br />The rules are as follows:<br /><br />1. When accepting this auspicious award, you must write a post bragging about it, including the name of the misguided soul who thinks you deserve such acclaim, and link back to the said person so everyone knows she/he is real.<br /><br />2. Choose a minimum of 5 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design. Or improvise by including bloggers who have no idea who you are because you don’t have five friends. Show the five random victims’ names and links and leave a harassing comment informing them that they were prized with Honest Weblog. Well, there’s no prize, but they can keep the nifty icon.<br /><br />3. List at least ten (10) honest things about yourself. Then pass it on!<br /><br /><br /><div align="justify">I'm not going to follow rule 2 and pass on this award because it is MINE, ALL MINE! but also because I know that some people don't like receiving blog awards (silly people) :). However, I am honoured L R, thank you.</span></div><div align="justify"></span></div><div align="justify">As for rule 3 - ten honest things? Really? Oh, ok...</span></div><div align="justify"></span></div><div align="justify">1. I was home schooled for most of my life because of illness.</span></div><div align="justify">2. I really want to get a tattoo.</span></div><div align="justify">3. I used to have a dwarf rabbit who was great friends with my two cats and dog and played with them all the time.</span></div><div align="justify">4. I started watching horror films when I was 3.</span></div><div align="justify">5. I'm the youngest of ten children.</span></div><div align="justify">6. My favourite game as a child was pretending to be a wolf or a panther and hunting people.</span></div><div align="justify">7. When I'm rich I'll use my money to travel the world and explore cryptozoological sights and take photographs of long thought to be extinct animals.</span></div><div align="justify">8. I have a plan in place for when the zombies take over the world.</span></div><div align="justify">9. I'm allergic to Tommy Girl perfume.</span></div><div align="justify">10. The song Dela by Johnny Clegg and Savuka (from the movie George of the Jungle) always makes me smile.</div></span><div align="justify"></div>Inkpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07253894925544281211noreply@blogger.com8