Mirkwood Cottage

I love a happy ending (and Mr Darcy)

According to Meg Cabot, all (Austen loving) women want to be Elizabeth Bennet, although in her case, she's apparently more like Emma. Lucky for me - Austen loving woman that I am - I do get to be lovely Lizzy, if only for a blog post!

"You are Elizabeth Bennet of Pride & Prejudice! You are intelligent, witty, and tremendously attractive. You have a good head on your shoulders, and oftentimes find yourself the lone beacon of reason in a sea of ridiculousness. You take great pleasure in many things. You are proficient in nearly all of them, though you will never own it. Lest you seem too perfect, you have a tendency toward prejudgement that serves you very ill indeed."

Well, if you say so! :)

Take the Quiz here!

Wouldn' it be luv-er-ly!

There are few things more fabulous than a long weekend, and I plan to make the most of it! A few activities that will feature prominently:

- Working on my second crocheted granny blanket;

- Wearing a frilly apron while baking Lemon Delicious slice and dancing to 1930s tunes in my kitchen;

- Trying my hand at pin curls and vintage-inspired make-up (and then insisting my husband takes me on a date to the movies);

- Going for a bike ride on my Electra Cruiser, complete with newly installed wicker basket, in which I will pack delicious treats for a picnic in the autumn sunshine by the ocean;

- Doing plenty of relaxing, curled up with a few good books;

- Writing my first few entries in a secret new blog project that you will know about very soon!

How will you spend your weekend?

[Image of me, courtesy of mini-photoshoot by David James Photography]

All You Need Is...

There are some places that are just made for writing. I wouldn't have thought that a hammock was one.

After visiting a friend's new-ish (had it for two years, only just visited him now) home, I spotted a lovely hammock hanging on his front verandah. Never one to shy away from relaxation, I gave it a test run and, oh my! I found it comfortable and akin to being on a swing (which I love), only lying down! My previous hammocking experiences have been with net-variety kinds, which tend to squish and squeeze all those parts of your body you'd rather forget were there; but his was a thick woven cotton style, which was an enormous improvement.

When life hands you lemons, make lemonade!

This Sunday, I'm embarking on an adventure of sorts. Not exactly an adventure I chose for myself, but circumstances have wriggled and jiggled about me and have necessitated that I travel to a town called Rockhampton to run a training course for five days. Now, I'm a girl who loves her creature comforts and who considers her home to be her castle (a fairy princess castle no less), so I was none too pleased to discover that my work was going to take up not only my day-time, but also my nights! Still, when life hands you lemons? It's Lemonade-making time!

In any case, I am going to gorge myself on company-paid-for steak, drink a little champagne and use all that extra spare time I'll have doing a lot more work on my novel.

And, thankfully, NOT spend all my time worrying about the ghost in Room 22, because I'm staying in the new rooms "out the back" of the pictured hotel, rather than on the third floor...

;)

[Image courtesy of Rockhampton Heritage Building blog]

Shooting for the moon

I'm starting to enjoy the thought of writing my novel again. In fact, yesterday, I actually spent time working on it.

I want my writing to be a pleasure and a joy. I know that might sound like a difficult goal, but I've just realised that writing doesn't have to be an obligation and a frustration! It can be anything I make it to be!

I'm not powering through the novel; I'm a fair way from my goal; but I'm also a firm believer in 'slow and steady wins the race', and it heartens me to feel this shift in my attitude. I know - finally - that I am heading in the right direction.

Little tastes here and there. Little projects and plots and plans. I'm thinking about my story. I'm daydreaming about my characters again. I'm not focussing on results and Getting It Done. I'm taking the scenic route, and while that might not be the way I thought I'd go, I'm starting to enjoy the view.

I don't know if this makes all that much sense, and not a lot is Getting Done. Yet. But it feels like a something. Like first gear. A little inertia. A taste of momentum. And at this pace - instead of the almighty writing race I tried to flog myself with last year - I know that it's going to get done.

Tonight, I stood up in front of a crowd of about 60 strangers (at a personal development seminar) and told them I had written four chapters of my first ever novel, but that within 90 days I would have a literary agent and I was going to be bigger than JK Rowling. (Yes, I got chuckles at the latter; but maybe, just maybe, I'm serious!)

Now that I'm laying that out on the line in front of you - bearing my soul, in fact; I've just made myself accountable to that goal. It's more than a little frightening - but that's not always a bad thing.

Whether I will make you proud or fall flat on my face, I don't know; but it felt good to say something positive about my writing for once. To step out and say, "Y'know what? I might sound like a fool... I might get something wrong... I might just fail - but who cares?!! I'd rather try and fail than give up on my dream!!!"

To you, this may sound like a small thing. For me, it feels as if I've just landed on the moon.

[Image courtesy of here]

I want to ride my bicycle...

I have come to the recent conclusion that I am my own worst enemy. Two weeks ago, I set out to start writing my novel (with the aim of completing it by the end of September). Since embarking on Attempt Number 2, however, my brain has conjured all sorts of amazing and fun things for me to do instead!

I've rearranged and organised my study, so it's pretty and workable. I've started knitting something that ISN'T a scarf (it's a bag). I've watched five of ten seasons of Stargate. Gone to the doctor about ailments that I like to pretend aren't there so as to avoid surgery. And then, in the midst of it all, I decided that I wanted a bicycle.

Not any bicycle, mind you. I wanted a vintage-styled bicycle, complete with a cool basket, nice wide handlebars, a comfortable seat and a smile like the girl in the picture.

It's not me, it's you.

One of the things that I enjoy about being a psychologist, is that it offers room for a LOT of creative licence. In my writing, I love using metaphors - and in my line of work, I find that there's nothing like a metaphor to help someone see their current situation in a new light.

I've been working with a few people who really struggle with past traumas and woundings lately. I'm talking big-time stuff here. Things that have happened during their lives that have hurt deeply. Things that have felt, to them, like intensely personal attacks. I meet a lot of people who feel that they have no value unless they're doing something to earn it - be it earning cash, or the emotional equivalent of a fantastical juggling act (flaming knives, say), while balancing on a tightrope, just to get a little love from the crowd.

The sad thing about this is that every person - every human life - has intrinsic value. That is, value without an amount on it; without a behaviour attached; being loved 'just because' - not because you've done something pleasing or have had to grovel for affection.

The more I counsel, the more it becomes apparent that how we view the world as adults, how we live in it and see ourselves, has incredibly strong ties to the first 6-12 years of our life. It's incredible and devastating to see the hunger of a child yearning for a parent's unconditional love, only, in the eyes of an adult; and then to see how that has affected their sense of worth...

In any case, in discussions today along these lines, an interesting metaphor arose.

Runaway train never comin' back...

One of my clients went missing five days ago.

Feared suicide.

I can't get Runaway Train out of my head.

Thoughts and prayers for his family and his safe return appreciated.

Update (12 June 2008): Still no word. Sigh.

[Beautiful image by Stephen Forsyth]

Echoes of the past...

I always find it a little odd reading things I wrote long ago. For starters, 1997 is eleven years ago. ELEVEN! When on earth did that much time pass by?! But it's not really the passage of time that I find so strange, rather, the way the words pull at you, tugging you to the past. I don't know why I stopped writing poetry - perhaps it was more of an adolescent thing to do - but it's a little nice to remember how vividly one felt back then. And how gushingly saccharine...

Brain Go Boom

I love to write. I long to write. But when your job involves spending the better part of two days writing a Medicolegal Vocational Assessment Report and Labour Market Analysis? A report that requires you to use the same descriptive words and phrases over and OVER and OVER again?

Brain. Go. Boom.

Not unlike a supernova, really - with a pretty example on your right. I find it a shame that supernova-turned-black-holes aren't a gateway to somewhere else, but a place of crushing darkness where matter literally gets compacted into condensed nothingness.

Hey! Sounds a little like my job on a bad day! (Ok, not really. But my brain hurts today.)

In any case, report writing does have a tendency to suck all the creative juices into that bottomless pit; and the only useful remedy I can think of is cosying up in bed with Five go to Finniston Farm. (Enid Blyton loved alliteration too! Yahoo!)

Goodnight :)

[Image courtesy of Nova Online]