The Living Dead 2

 

Just  a quickie. Today  had one of those “I wish I had written that” moments. I read a story in the book The Living Dead 2 called “Zombie Gigalo” by S G Browne.  Completely gross, totally absorbing, hugely funny and brilliantly written.

If gross horror is your thing, and this story is very tongue in cheek you must buy this book.

There are stories by some very prominent authors in this anthology, Kelley Armstrong, Max Brooks, Simon R Green and many others. You will definitely find something you love here.

Click here to be taken to the Waterstones website.

 

 

Points of Views, Yours, Mine, Whoever

 

Point of view or POV was something I never really gave much thought to when I started out writing. Practically everything I wrote was in the third person and I was always quite happy with that. It was only when I started to write seriously that I found there were two other main POV’s in which I could write.

So what is POV and how does it impact on writing style and stories?

Third Person

This is where you have what is called a God’s eye view. You tell the story as an onlooker so you can see what everyone in your story does and get inside everyone’s heads. This type of narration is most commonly used in fiction as it is the one that provides the most flexibility to the author. As the storyteller you are the narrator and never actually become part of the story.

First Person

First person POV is where you are telling the story from your perspective, you will be a part of the story although not necessarily the main character. You may be a side character that watches the story unfold from a distance but nevertheless it is your story to tell.  However this can be quite limiting because you can only tell the story as you see it. You will not be able to tell the reader what others are doing when they are not in the scene as you will not be able to see them or get inside their heads.  This kind of information usually comes to light when other characters are speaking. A significant benefit from writing in the first person is that you can tell the story with deeper feeling as you are the one who is conveying how things and situations actually feel to you and the effects that this may or may not have in the story.  The use of taste, touch, smell etc are a wonderful way of describing your surroundings.  Another aspect that is worth considering is the fact that you are speaking directly to the reader and in this regard you must have fully fleshed out your character if you want your reader to symapthise with you; remember they are along with you for the ride and want to be as fully invested in the story as you are.  I have friends that will only pick up a book if it is written in the first person because they find they can relate better to the story if they are with the narrator on their journey.

Second Person

This is perhaps the most limiting of POV’s but also the most interesting, I think. It is where the author refers to one of the characters as “you”, making the reader feel as if they are being addressed personally.  You will see that this style is almost always used in song lyrics and on children’s television shows where the presenters act as if they are actually speaking through the TV at the child watching. It is an immediate engagement and I have found a great style to use for shock factor. In my story “Obsession” which was published in the book “House of Terrors“, I used the second person POV to portray the mindset of a stalker. Addressing the reader directly helped me to scare them by making them think that someone was actually after them. Similarly in my story “That Sinking Feeling” from the book “Picnic Nightmares” I used this POV to write as a serial killer. Of course if you are not a horror writer like myself, then this would be a lovely POV to use in romantic fiction. Once again you cannot jump heads or scenes that don’t involve the storyteller but once mastered this style is very rewarding to use.

These are the main POV’s but there are others. Third person single vision, multiple vision, first person present, first person past, and you can also jump heads using first person to third person and so on. There are many places to find out more information of these POV’s if you want to experiment with your narration but I hope that this had shed a little light on the subject for you, a springboard if you will, to greater things.

Good luck and please share your experiences.

Julie 🙂

Grimm Tales – Phillip Pullman Version

Fairy Tales From the Brothers Grimm: A New English Version By Philip Pullman Review.

I am soooo excited about this. The book is beautifully presented with a pure white cover. I can’t decide between asking for it for Christmas or just buying it for myself.

Publishers Hate Authors

I have just come across another very interesting article, this time from the publishers point of view. As authors we like to think that we are respected by publishers who, after all, we are doing our best to impress. But are we?

This article talks about some of the problems publishers encounter whilst dealing with the like of ‘us’. Let’s just hope none of ‘us’ are really like this.

Read the article here.

Remembering My Dad

Today is Remembrance Sunday 11/11/2012 and I thought it would be a good day to remember my Dad, Roy. Although he served in in the RAF in WW2 he survived and returned home to his family. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been born because that didn’t happen until 1970 so of course I am grateful for that. He died in 1995 aged 78. I was only 24 and we had had no warning of his death. I spoke to him on the phone at midday and he collapsed and died at 5.15 pm. It was many many years until I came to terms with this death and I can now look back at my memories with fondness and lots of smiles.

It is my Dad that I really have to thank for my writing talent. When I was at school every weekend, on a Sunday evening he used to write 2 pages of spellings for me and I had to sit down and copy each word out ten times. Contrary to what you may think, this wasn’t a punishment but just his way of cementing words into my head, and it worked. He used to love giving me complicated words like ‘liaise’ or ‘toughen’ and testing me on them weeks later. He was a stickler for correct grammar and spelling and told me that my writing would be a direct reflection upon me. “You can lose or gain someone’s respect in the first line of a letter”, he once told me. I have never forgotten those words or those lessons.  He taught me how to address and write a proper formal letter using Dear Sir with Yours faithfully or Dear Mary with Yours sincerely and how to write a cheque (something we rarely need these days).

My love of books also helped a great deal with my use of language as from the age of about 5 I always had my head in a book. Usually something by Enid Blyton or, when I got older, Judy Blume.

However, in today’s world it means that I am often frustrated by the lack of importance placed on spelling and grammar. When I was a police officer I was frequently mortified by the terrible spelling in documents and evidential material. As professional witnesses we were expected to perform in all areas to the highest standards but over the years I saw those standards steadily decline and by the time I left entry levels were so low it was embarrassing.  I used to think of my Dad and wonder what he would have said if he had read the reports I was reading. He would have been very disappointed and his opinion of the police service would have dipped. I am glad he never saw that.

My Dad was a very shy man, he hated socialising and always felt awkward in company, not like me at all. I am very gregarious, outgoing and love the limelight as my friends and family will lay testament to. I don’t look like my Dad or have the same ambitions that he did. We were very different.  He probably thought that he hadn’t left me anything worthwhile but to me he has left a fabulous invaluable legacy. The love and respect of the English Language. I am passing it on to his grandsons and they, like me and him are language purists. I know he would be very proud of that and if I could speak to him today, on Remembrance Sunday I would tell him that his legacy is alive and well in us and 17 years after his death, so is he.

I love you Dad.

Julie 🙂

My thoughts exactly on the addiction of blogging. Who else is adicted and does it cause you problems?

Tales From Costa Rica – Part 8

Well here we are, the final installment of my trip to the beautiful land of Costa Rica. You have heard about my awful journey there, the wonderful times I have had and the amazing people I met and I hope that you would now consider it somewhere you might like to visit.  I would highly recommend it of course.

So the only other thing to cover now is my journey home. For me the journey back always seems to take twice as long as the journey there. Maybe it’s because by that time I’m longing to turn into Dorothy, click my heels together and wish myself home. Sadly this is not yet possible and I am stuck with a car ride, two planes, a bus and another car ride to get home.

On Sunday morning I packed my case and tried very hard to squeeze everything back in. I don’t know about you but it never fits in as well on the return journey and I have to fight with the zip for 10 minutes or so until my fingers turn purple and I’ve broken about 3 nails. Only then does it finally close completely. We had to leave at 9.15 so that we could drop the car off and get to the airport. Annie’s flight was 5 hours earlier than mine so I would have to sit and wait for a while. I didn’t mind that, I had a good book and could write some more blog while I’m hanging around.

Before all that though, I had woken up at about 5.30 and was really glad; I didn’t want to miss another minute. I could hear Monroe moving around downstairs and I knew he would have a big pot of coffee on. I went down and sure enough there he was in his shorts with his blue cap on busying himself in the kitchen.  We exchanged good mornings and with our coffee went and sat on the porch as usual. We sat for a while in silence, both enjoying the sight of the clouds playing on the tops of the mountains, listening to the morning calls of the exotic birds and catching the odd glimpse of a red squirrel climbing the tree to steal little pieces of the bananas. This would be something that I miss greatly and I told Monroe so. He is such an interesting guy and has led a life so different from my own that I am fascinated every time he talks to me. To my surprise he turned to me and said, “You know, I will miss you too. You are a lovely lady and a very talented writer. I could listen to your tales for ages.” I was quite choked up at that. Here was I thankful that I was meeting all these fabulous people and they had been thinking the same about me. Only last night Earl had told me that I am a beautiful spirit. What lovely things to say.

At about 9am just as I had finished packing, the door flew open and Lily came running upstairs. She thought she had missed me and when she saw the car still outside she was relieved.  We had a huge hug and yes, both of us cried. I will think about Lily often. She is stunningly beautiful with a big heart and a great sense of humour. I will miss our laughs. Randomly we swapped phone cases so that we would have something of each other. Photos were taken and before I knew it we were off. 24 hours later I would be home.

Monroe and Lily

We stopped at Denny’s for breakfast and I ordered a side of pancakes as I wasn’t overly hungry. Goodness knows what they would have brought me if I had asked for a full breakfast, see the size of the pancakes in the photo below. Ha ha.

A side of pancakes

After dropping off the car and being bused to the airport, Annie booked in and we went for a final coffee. We reminisced for a while about the fab week we had spent together and all too soon she had to go and I was left alone. I remembered that on the journey out I had felt like a grown up, really for the first time and I felt it again then. That may seem strange considering I’m 42 years old but there is a reason for this.

In 1995 my father died suddenly and a few months later I started to have anxiety attacks. Over the following years this became a full blown anxiety disorder from which I have suffered greatly. 3 years ago I was also diagnosed as having rapid cycling bipolar disorder (I won’t go into what that is here, if you want to know Google will tell you). I have had long periods where being too far away from my home was a huge fear in itself and I have struggled not to let this ruin my life. I have never stopped going outside although it would have been very easy to do that sometimes but I have found it very debilitating and also very hard on my family. On top of this I have a fear of flying (now you’re thinking I’m a wreck of a woman, I know, I’ve thought it myself for many years). However, this year I was medically retired from work as a police officer and I found I was much more able to cope without so much stress. So, not one for doing things by halves I decided that this would be the year that I conquer all my fears at once. Before I could change my mind I booked this trip to Costa Rica. Four and a half thousand miles from my safe place, travelling on four planes and all this on my own. So before you throw me a pity party let’s just get back to where I left off. I was alone in the airport feeling grown up, yes? Well it was because I was feeling so proud of myself. I had done it. Yes I still had two planes left to take but I had already conquered it all. I had not had to take one anxiety tablet during the whole week. Obviously I had them with me (Trevor says my bag is like a portable pharmacy), but I didn’t need to take them.

So with my new found confidence I boarded the first plane and as we took off I quietly thanked God, the land of wonder that is Costa Rica, the beautiful people who treated me so well and I said goodbye to the old flaky Julie and looked forward to sinking into my own bed next to my wonderful, supportive, long suffering husband who was waiting for me.

Me and my wonderful husband Trevor

I just wanted to thank you all for reading this blog and for giving me so many positive comments on here, on twitter and in person; it is great to have your support. I will of course continue blogging about writing and anything else I think may interest you and in February 2013 I am going on a cruise round the Caribbean, this time with Trevor and Sam so of course I will be blogging about the whole trip, warts and all. I hope you will share it with me.

See you soon.

Julie 🙂

Tales from Costa Rica – Part 7

I am so glad that you are all enjoying my travel journal, I love sharing it with you all. So here is part 7.

Saturday 27th October 2012 dawned a lovely bright morning. I was very glad that I had not come home late because I had a clear head and was ready to enjoy the day. As usual in the mornings Monroe and I sat out on the back porch drinking coffee (Costa Rican of course) and chatting. This was one of my favourite times of the day, when everyone else was still asleep and I listened to Monroe telling tales of his treasure hunting experiences. He is such an interesting guy and someone I would never have met if I hadn’t come on this trip.

A short while later, Annie rose obviously a little worse for wear and after a relatively chilled morning we decided to go up the mountain to see Helene who I later affectionately dubbed ‘crazy dog lady’.

Helene is a lovely warm hearted Austrian lady who has lived in Costa Rica for many years. During her time in this beautiful country she had grown tired of seeing so many dogs just wandering the streets, scavenging for food or getting knocked down by cars and left at the side of the road. So instead of becoming hardened to it she decided to open her house to them, provide the medical care, food and love that they need and ultimately try to get them adopted. She started out small but with so many street dogs this just grew and grew. The locals all came to know Helene and many, who can afford it send her money and food to help with their care. Over time this has become a thriving concern for Helene but she still loves each dog as if it is her own. She names every dog that comes through her door and never forgets which is which. So how many dogs do you think she looks after at one time? 10? 20? 50? Nope. not even close. She currently has 141 dogs. Yes that’s right 141. Of these 40 live in her house with her and the rest live on her land in kennels where they have freedom to roam and play.  The ones that are in her house are the ones that are very sick, very young or old or who have just had surgery (she makes sure every dog is neutered to stop the breeding problems exacerbating).

A dog lover myself with 2 lively labradors, I was really looking forward to meeting Helene and her dogs. It only took us about 20 minutes to get to her land and we knew we were in the right place from all the barking we could hear from about 100 metres away. I commented to Annie that it is a good job that Helene doesn’t have any close neighbours or they would all have been driven mad by now.

We pulled up to a large green metal gate and banged heartily setting off a gazillion barks. After a few minutes Helene pulled open the gate and we walked into canine heaven. When I say there were dogs everywhere I really am not exaggerating. Big ones, small ones, puppies, old dogs, yappy dogs, jumpy dogs, lazy dogs of every breed imaginable ran towards us to have a good sniff and to say hello. I immediately fell in love with about 8 of them and wanted to take them home and I’d only just walked through the gate. Some of the dogs were kept separate from the others for varying reasons, some because they trod on the puppies or just snapped a lot but no dog was alone, they always had a friend.

Just a few of the doggies who greeted us

Helene herself was a mass of bright red hair and big beaming smiles. She still had the tell-tale Austrian accent but her English was impeccable.  She led us into her house all the while talking to the dog and calling them by name. I noticed that the place was spotlessly clean, no poop or pee anywhere to be seen and when one dog did a little parcel Helene immediately scooped it up and disposed of it. Inside the large abode there were dogs on the sofas, lying across doorways and following us around tripping us up all the way to the den. As Helene remarked, you could not be sad in a place like that. Just one look around at all the furry faces eager to love you unconditionally has to lift your spirits and I understood then why she was such a cheerful happy person.

Helene the crazy dog lady

One big furry black dog called Pushy took a liking to me and stayed by my side the whole of our visit. He was so friendly and looked at me with his big brown doggy stare and I fell head over heels in love (I think Pushy would even give Johnny a run for his money). I asked Helene about him and she said that he was one of the dogs that would never be adopted because at 7 he was too old. “People want puppies”, she said. “The trouble with that is that when they get to about 2 or 3 they become less cute and the owners don’t want them any more so they get abandoned all over again”. I could see that Helene is fighting a losing battle but one that she is determined to fight regardless of the outcome.

Me with my beloved Pushy

When we left (without my beloved Pushy) I knew that these dogs were the lucky ones, they would get not only medical attention and food but real genuine one on one love and all from this one Austrian woman who has decided to take on the world. I can only wish her good luck and good health. What a wonderful lady.

Annie and I drove home deep in thought and got ready for our evening with Any and Norman, the fabulous Cuban couple that Annie had taken me to see on my first day.  They had invited us to dinner along with Mike and Earl and I was looking forward to spending my last evening in their company.

When we arrived and I had finished hugging Norman and trying to persuade him to squeeze into my case we followed the gorgeous smells coming from Any’s kitchen. She opened the oven and showed us the most massive shoulder of pork I had ever seen. My mouth immediately started to water so Mike and I laid the table while Norman carved the meat. We sat down and prayers were said and then Oh My Lord!! I began to eat the best meat I had ever eaten, so succulent and tender. My mouth is watering again as I type, remembering such a wonderful meal. We had flan for dessert which we had to almost physically wrestle from Mike, it being his favourite and after coffee we all went and sat in the conservatory nattering about this and that. I looked around at these wonderful people that I had only met a week ago and was amazed that in such a short time they had welcomed me into their lives and homes and made me feel like family. I was going to miss these people so much.

All too soon it was time to leave and we had a bit of a tearful goodbye. I promised to return as soon as I could and we left for our last night at Annie’s home. I never could persuade Norman to stow away with me but he belongs to Any so I will just have to get back there as soon as possible, if only for their amazing food.

Any and Norman, the best Cubans in the world

So my travels had come to and end. Or had they? Oh no, I still have an eventful journey home to tell you all about tomorrow.

Pip pip.

Julie 🙂