Adventure

*Musings*

 

I have so many ideas brimming around the corners of my mind, haunting my dreams, characters knocking at the door of creation demanding life. Yet my time at the keyboard has been limited by real life adventures around the country and beyond off to foreign wilderness, ever inspiring my frantic mind, fueling my desire to write despite my inability to do so.

I have notebook and pen packed with me, I have freedom to scribble notes and pour forth my dreams onto paper. The next six scenes have already been played out, yet by the time I get to kill my darlings, I know the plot could change. That is why I love the freedom of writing without thought, to allow my hands to direct the course of action.

I have visited some incredible places and the list of locations before me is even more impressive, I am nervous, I am excited, I hold anticipation barely in check and I know that inspiration will follow me like a bouncy puppy, jumping up always needing attention.

I see inspiration in art, in buildings, in scenery, in the people I meet, the people I pass, in my dreams, in literature, in starring out the window absently watching the world pass me by. Words flow into my brain, cram my thoughts with ideas… I might need a bigger notebook.

I should like to write about my travels too, if my characters ever let me, and I can try if I find WiFi… For now, I must return to work… Even that I can find inspiring!

I will try to write Part 70 at lunchtime, it’s a lovely number to leave you on until I return full of words and slim of wallet…

 

Love Anne x

19.04.17

 

 

 

The Photos on my Phone 

Pulling myself up off the ledge and finding my wings…

***

I found a way to make me smile

I found a way to lift my day

I found a few sad memories

And some forgotten memes

 

My gallery

This is where I’ve been

Who I’ve seen

My life captured in snap shots

 

People I adore

Places I’ve explored

Music I’ve lost myself to

Art that makes me weep

 

This collection helps me see

How fortunate my life is

I have freedom and adventure

Cute selfies and so much to remember

 

I am so very blessed

Even in times of emotional mess

I have my pictures to remind me

The gloom is fleeting slipping away

 

For I am so content to have my gallery x

Anne Harrison 03.04.17

On the Ledge

A Personal Blog

 

I had a dip, you might have noticed in some earlier thoughts I shared, mainly regarding losing my Mother and being reminded of this by the fact that my Parents Wedding Anniversary and Mothers Day being within three days of each other.

My Blog is my safe little corner of this cyber world, here I have always felt safe to express myself and write more than I could ever say in person and I write only a fraction of what I would like to say.

Having this space has given me the ability to work through my emotions and safely express myself, no one is forced to read my words and no one is obliged to reply, which places me in a comfortable situation. My life is interwoven with my ongoing ‘Not-so-short-short-story’ and I can find some measure of peace of mind.

A fellow Blogger recently sent me these precious words of wisdom:

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So I started to write, and write I did… It took me three days to write the following notes and even though I know I am not an expert in such thingies, you need to understand that I wrote these words for me… I know that sounds selfish, yet at the same time, I am sharing them… Because maybe, only maybe, they just might resonate to someone else out there in cyberspace…

*Dedicated to all those who find themselves lingering on the ledge*

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With Love,

Anne Harrison 30.03.17

Work in Progress

This is what the current working notes chaos mess is like, what I carry around in the black hole of my bag and add to bits when I’m waiting for a bus or otherwise randomly inspired.

Apologies – I write in pencil a lot – also there is a random spoiler somewhere in the scribbles, but you might not be able to decipher my dreadful handwriting and atrocious spelling… (Hopefully) …

… Sharing this and The Not-So Old Notes as a little oddity into my random writing process…

 

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Anne Harrison 29.03.17

The Not-So Old Notes

Finding scribbles of notes which never came to be…

… Discovered at the bottom of my bag while searching for a Theatre Tickets that I swore I printed off weeks ago, instead I discovered all these random musings…

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Anne Harrison 29.03.17

Of Heroes and Fools

Spoiler – I’m the Fool… 

 

Here I am, pondering over Story Structure, collecting sources of inspiration. Dreaming in character and re-reading through old University notes…

… Here’s something which has been brought to light, I don’t have a Hero!

I used to have a Hero… He had no name and is simply known ‘The Guardian’, but Kane killed him back in Part 14. How can I follow the well established structure of The Hero’s Journey, if I don’t have a Hero? Does the Hero need to be male? Yet none of my characters feel as though they are the main character… Is it possible to have a tale without a main character? Neither, do I have a main antagonist… I would be tempted to say this was The King, Yet my initial introduction gave him a Fatherly figure but he developed into a Tyrant… He’s dead too… Oops…

I don’t have any answers, just a collection of random tangled thoughts and self doubts that because I don’t follow a structure, because I don’t follow the rules of writing as gospel, I tell a story, I don’t show. I like to think of my ‘Notsoshortshortstory’ as a campfire tale. As I’m sat around with my friends, making up a shaggy dog story on the spot, telling what I see in my mind as if I was speaking to friends under a star lit sky.

I write without a plot, I scribble a few notes, but I’m still stuck regarding the next part currently. So while I’m bumbling along with writers block, you get my insane musings instead. But my little shadow of self doubt questions if I am a true writer?

I write, I love writing, I make things up on the spot and keep rolling with a tale because it doesn’t feel ended yet. But am I a writer?

Because I don’t have a hero…

 

Anne Harrison 14.03.17

The Hero’s Journey

… What Structure? *Scratches Head*

Twas no fib when I wrote … ‘anticipation gripped those who witnessed the arrival of this force and even your humble narrator isn’t sure what she’s going to write next…’ at the end of Part 47, I don’t exactly know what I am going to write in Part 48 yet, I have about a dozen ideas, my thoughts regarding this ‘Notsoshortshortstory’ actually branches off 14 years into the future, but obviously that wont be in the next part and not all my ideas get scribbled down, typed up, remembered or develop beyond a dream. Basically I have No structure.

Now, I read a lot about the art of writing, I subscribe to various Blogs and Websites, The Wonderbook is a constant companion and I have drank up every word in On Writing and I’m utterly fascinated by The Story Seminar . One thing which pops up time and time again is ‘The Hero’s Journey’ which has been written about countless times, with various experts putting their personal twist upon this theme. It can be complicated, broken down into diddy fractions or simply Three Acts.

We covered it in class upon the creative writing course:

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Many stories, many films, follow this journey of discovery for our (initially) unwilling Hero and his friends/foe. It is a tale that has followed us (mankind) throughout our history, from ancient Myths and Legends right through to Harry Potter. The Hero’s Journey is Mankind’s Journey, it may echo our own trials and tribulations through life, sometimes.

It is a concept which fascinates me as I (personally) can also relate this to The Fool’s Journey, which is the progress of the Fool through the Major Arcana in Tarot Cards.

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The Fool is The Hero, Look at all these beautiful characters he meets upon his travels through the Major Arcana! How many character archetypes are hidden (in plain sight) in the Tarot? The Wise Man… Merlin, Gandalf, Dumbledore, Ben Kenobi … The Hermit.

We have our Kings and Queens, Magicians, Love, Death, Judgement, Strength… All the glorious concepts we also find in The Hero’s Journey… But my rumbling thoughts have taken a bizarre twist of their own and this is no longer what I wanted to write about when I started this blog, however, that’s just the way my mind works and I’ve got lost trying to follow the tangled threads of a messy thoughts. Instead I’ve given you something else to ponder over. I don’t expect I am the first person to relate these two concepts? I don’t know how I got onto the subject of the Tarot when I actually wanted to reflect upon the ‘Hero’ theme, but it fits, so I will just leave that there and slink back into my cave and rethink over what it is I wanted to write about…

 

Anne Harrison 14.03.17

 

The Face of Depression 

A Personal Blog…

I was utterly horrified when an old photo of me surfaced at work. Taken near the start of my current job,  around 2010/2011 time… I am beyond embarrassed,  so here I am,  sharing the monstrosity on the bloody Internet instead of putting it through the shredder…  Because, my very first thought when I looked upon myself from (not that many) years ago, was ‘OMG… I was so unhappy’…

It was that thought which compelled me to keep the photo and to share the photo.  This is the face of Depression,  this was me at my lowest ebb, this was the self destructive,  self harming, suicidal,  drinking, eating junk, miserable and ill… I was slowly killing myself and I hated myself…

This is my face and I’m wearing my depression in my eyes, it lays heavily on my shoulders along with the weight I was carrying.  This is me, this is who I was and I can’t hate her,  she’s my past,  she’s all the horrible things I’ve been through… But she survived… Because she is me…

This is me now, this is who I am, who she came to be…  I no longer live with depression… It’s been a long path, that journey to self love,  to love life and grasp crazy adventures (like Glass Walking)…

If I had given up,  if I had vanished into the bottom of another empty wine bottle,  I would never had thought I could have achieved all I have done in just a few short years.

I am not perfect, but I don’t need to be perfect. I still have moments where I’m gripped by anxiety and  I am still overweight (Damn You Cake!)…

I never anticipated that I could change my life around so much,  so drastically… Sometimes you need that blast from the past, that smack in the face to help you understand just how far you have come and give you the courage to continue…
Love Anne x

09.03.17

The Best Thing About Blogging 

Simply… All you other gorgeous Bloggers out there in blog land!

I adore discovering beautiful blogs to follow,  I passionately read through new posts… I have shed tears at devastating experiences people have bravery shared and laughed freely at amusing tales.

I love to read other characters come to life through the words of fellow writers. I find inspiration and feel inferior at times.  (most of the time)

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I relate to a wide blogging family and hope you keep your words coming…

Thank you all

Love Anne x

03.03.17

Has My Writing Changed?

Mindless Ponderings…

By writing far more frequently, especially by following the lingering thread of an ongoing tale. I find that my writing has taken on a voice of it’s own, by casually disregarding possibly everything I ever learned at University about creative writing, by freely allowing influences I adore slipping into my words, the silken literature of Michael Moorcock, the flamboyant style of Lovecraft creep into my typing, because I let them, I don’t agonise over every single word I add to the screen, I am guilty of over using words, I actually deliberately include more than I should… Because I can, I am not policing my tale for any editor, I no longer hold any desire to be published, I write because I love writing, I adore the freedom of expression and the way my silly little tale is taking on a life of its own. It might never grace any printing press, but that’s not the issue, I write to give my characters breath.

Curiously I found an old tale I wrote at the beginning of my creative writing course. At a point in time where I wanted every word to be perfect, I wanted to prove myself as a potential author. I was a very different writer, for I felt restricted by the rules of writing and this need for perfection and it just doesn’t read right, I actually don’t like it, but I’m going to share it with you, because I might just be adding these characters to my story.

 

*Insert evil laughter*

 

Sibling Rivalry

1297 DR: Year of the Singing Skull

Pain registered quickly as he reeled backwards from the sudden swift attack, he put his left leg back a step to balance himself and acting purely on an internal instinct he spun around and kicked back with his leading leg. Striking his brother hard in his ribs with his boot, even before he had recoiled from the unexpected punch to the jaw, which had abruptly ended the argument with violence.

From somewhere behind the stars blurring his vision he heard his third brother chuckling at this discord, this only inflamed his rage even more and he turned to face his youngest sibling, hatred seething in his eyes as he wiped fresh blood from his chin, his lip split and stung. The fog lifted in his mind and he promptly glanced over his shoulder, to where his elder brother had recovered already from the blow to his ribs and regaining his breath.

So far none of them had reached for any of the weapons they carried upon their persons, but the frustration between the three siblings was ignited and after the first blows and it only took a split second to erupt into chaos. Aston tackled his middle brother, Bane, launching towards his mid-drift and tackling him to the floor, Cassius hesitated, but he knew he couldn’t avoid the conflict. He saw an advantage to side with Aston and as the two older men fell to the dust he kicked Bane in this side of his head, it was a cowardly attack, seeing as they wrestled and exchanged punches in the dirt. But Cassius’s action gave Aston the instant he needed to disable Bane with a violent chop with the edge of his hand right into his throat.

Bane gagged and coughed violently retching as Aston regained his footing and stood over him. “I suppose you believe I owe you for your help?” Aston spoke without turning to face Cassius; it wasn’t a question as much as a warning and Cassius felt a cold dread wave through him, aware that his skills could never outmatch Aston. Swallowing hard against the angry lump in his throat, he fought back his fear of his eldest brother. “I want the knife!” He demanded, finding courage in his own words, even though there was a slight tremor to his voice. “You have nothing I want!” Aston snapped back without hesitation, stealing some of the lads’ bravado, “Unlike this ‘Shebali’!” Aston spat to the ground near Bane’s head insulting him with a vile term in their language for ‘outcast’.

Bane fought to push down his rising fear as he struggled to regain his breath and hold onto the edge of consciousness, stunned by the betraying kick to his skull. He was in trouble and he knew it, Aston wanted ‘The Mirror’ and Bane felt as though the fight was fast slipping from him, yet he was unwilling to give up his prize so easily.

“I know where the ‘Sceptre’ is!” Bane tried to shout, but his voice was a broken croak. Though his words were enough to gain the attention of Cassius who raised an eyebrow and turned to regard his fallen sibling, Aston observed the simple change in facial expression and clenched his fists by his side. Cassius failed to notice this action else he would have expected the following attack.

However, Aston was unwilling to be embarrassed, by either his younger brothers and from the few words which had been expressed throughout this most recent violent encounter between the three brothers, he was starting to see a position where he could gain all three items of rare quality and possess them all to gain the strength and power it would take to over throw their father for the ownership of the guild. His mind swiftly followed this line of thought  and almost without thinking he reached around behind his back to where a knife was concealed in a sheath between his shoulder blades, in one fluid motion he launched the deadly blade through the air, aimed directly at the unsuspecting Cassius.

Cassius’s eyes went wide with shock as he noticed the sudden flash of razor sharp steel, he sidestepped issuing forth a sudden cry in his surprise, the wicked blade drew a deep line across his ribs, he felt the searing pain rip through his torso and reached instinctively to the long gash across his belly, as blood poured freely, wet and warm over his trembling hands.

“ENOUGH!” It was a single direct order, from a voice which demanded respect. Simultaneously all three brothers turned to regard the source of the commandment, all of them aware that their father stood witness to this conflict.

Storm stepped from the shadows, like an oppressive force to be reckoned with, the shadows appeared to cling to the folds of his dark black cloak, giving him the impression that he was half surreal ethereal presence.

The brothers swallowed hard, near in unison. By now, Bane had regained his feet and stood together with Aston and Cassius.

“From what I can gather…” Storm spoke in his native language “…Between you three ‘boys’…” He deliberately emphasised, the word ‘boys’ to knock his sons back into their place “… You have gained possession of ‘The Knife’, ‘The Mirror’ and ‘The Sceptre’.  He stepped closer, stroking his chin, amused.

Aston, Bane and Cassius watched their father cautious; Bane still comforted his bruised throat with one hand, his other curled around the hilt of his sword. Cassius blanched, both his hands were slick with blood, holding his streaming wound. Only Aston appeared strong enough to confront their father, should the cause arise.

Yet Storm silenced any conflict with words. He breathed in deeply savoring success, “At least you ‘used’ to own these items!” He smirked exaggerating the past tense. “They’re mine now.” Storm said simply, allowing his sons to finally see the error of their ways, that they had fought and lost not only their items, but also their trust in each other.

From: December 17th 2015

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Anne Harrison 03.03.17