#1467 A crazy little thing tonight

I was driving in the car this evening, on my way to my musical destination.

I was on my way to see Queen.

Bona fide proper royalty. πŸ˜‰

And they were blasting out of the car too… but the crazy little thing was, the Queen I was listening to had Freddie Mercury, and the one I’d be seeing tonight had… Adam Lambert.

It’s another one of those crazy things, when someone or something you love is not there, and something else, or somebody else, stands in.

Tonight, Adam addressed the elephant in the room early on.

He was NO Freddie. He was a fan, just like we were.

And tonight he was going to pay tribute, the way he knew how, and the way that he could.

With those formalities out of the way, the show went on in superb style.

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Adam is a performer in his own right. He did an exceptional job bringing his take to Queen classics, and his vocal range is just as remarkable.

I loved some of his camp parades, and started to appreciate him in a whole other way.

He was somebody else to love.

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But perhaps most touching of all? When Brian May did the guitar solo for Love Of My Life, even singing the sweet words Freddie used to…

And then 3/4s through the song, Freddie suddenly appeared on stage, on a screen next to Brian.

It completely took me aback. I fumbled for my camera, trying to record the moment, while looking past the phone to the stage before me to take in… Freddie.

It was the closest I’d ever get to him. Being in this large arena, with all these thousands of people, with Brian on guitar and Roger on drums… and Freddie as a pre-recorded video… I realised, this was as good as it’s gonna get.

It was emotional and extremely humbling.

And yet, it was still one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to, and it was missing one very important frontman.

How would it have been like, if Freddie were there? Would he have been able to hit his high notes? Would he have paraded around in his undies or some other garish costume? Would he have done his operatic solo, competing against the crowd, only to say “fuck you,” with a cheeky smile at the end when they managed to keep up?

No one knows.

But what I do know, was that despite his physical absence, his spirit was definitely there tonight.

He was all around us, just as his music grows in influence and deepens connections and traverses continents and generations.

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I was thinking on the drive home, my head full of Queen and giddy from the experience… my relationship with Queen has grown like that of a friendship.

It started off as an acquaintance, grew to a friendship, merged to best friends…

And now, it’s true love.

“When I grow older

I will be there at your side

To remind you

How I still love you… (I still love you)

I still love you.”

😍πŸ˜ͺ🎡

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Best birthday present EVER. Thanks sis and bro. This one was definitely worth waiting for. ❀❀❀

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#1453 Balcony reading no. 2

I’ve worked out the best time of day to sit on the balcony in Summer.

Before midday.

The sun has not yet passed the roofline, meaning I’m not getting fried like an egg on the timber planks below.

I made a cappuccino, took some home-made biscuits, along with my book, my notes, and my phone, and basked in the morning summertime bliss.

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And got myself inspired. β™₯

#1391 The writing group

The other night my phone did that messenger ‘ding!’ And without fail I said to Hubbie, “that might be my writing friends.”

😁😁😁

That’s it. I’m done.

I have made it.

I have a writing group. βœπŸ“–

It was such an amazing realisation. They are the people I’ve met in my online course, and we have been reading each other’s work for months now, getting revved up and also totally paranoid and anxiety-ridden over the fact that we need to submit full novels for review and feedback by next weekend.

Not stressing… much… ???

But they make everything okay. We added each other as friends on facebook and have started our own chat away from the restrictions of the online classroom. Most days someone will post something helpful or share some personal writing thoughts, or just cry that they are about to pull out of the course and we will all be like “don’t you dare!”

It’s a lovely place to be, and be a part of. I shared my own structural journey with my novel, taking a photo of the unique way in which I am trying to work out the narrative and see where my themes, characters and rising tension is occurring… yeah unique way, on the floor.

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Yep, there you have it. Your first look at my novel! Good luck making sense of it though (I am struggling too). 🀣

But having people to bounce off ideas, inspire you to keep going, and remind you that after all of this they will be attending your book launch (!), well it’s completely heart warming.

Amazing. It’s a bloody great place to be, and I am so chuffed to be a part of it.

β™₯β™₯β™₯

 

#1367 Bathing it away

I’m actually kinda surprised. After getting rained on after school drop off, and having to witness my cat totally drugged out with pupils like saucers due to his new meds… I was almost laughing today.

You know when thing after thing goes wrong, and you literally look up to the sky and say “what now?”

But I amazed myself in my strength. I thought all this crap would have worn me down… but instead, like the main character in my book says “BRING IT ON.”

Maybe I’m somehow channeling her. Maybe I’m gaining inspiration through her fictional self. Either way, I moved on from the crap, and set myself up for…

A blissful bath.

There is always a reason why I shouldn’t have a bath. There are always 58 things I should be doing instead of lying in water, alone, breathing in to my thoughts.

But I’ve learnt by now that time like this isn’t a luxury… it’s a necessity.

So. Candle light. A steaming bath. The meditative sound of a slowly dripping tap, against the backdrop of howling winds outside the window.

Steam rises above me. The air is damp. I sink into the watery cocoon and let it swallow me whole, my body submerged by all that is peaceful, all that is good.

And with it my mind and soul slide into a place where my equilibrium is restored, and everything makes sense.

 

#1363 The free coffee that got me festive

Firstly.

I don’t need much to get me into the Christmas spirit.

I love me some Yule, y’all.

Secondly.

I will wait pretty damn long for a coffee. I love it a bit too much, and therefore will happily hang out, at various lengths, to get it.

The barista today didn’t agree. That is, that I should wait.

When I arrived at the shopping centre cafe, the line was decent, there were about 7 people waiting, and only one person manning the place. He was making the caffeine happen, and judging by his solo-ness , also making the ordering happen…

Only he wasn’t. He was as I said, only the lonely. Numero uno.

He looked over amidst his coffee-making several times to apologise for not coming over to take my order… then on the third occasion that he met my eye, he came over, fished out a coffee card from a nearby container which had all the spots stamped out, and said to me –

“here, you shouldn’t have to pay for your coffee.”

I was a bit stunned, and laughed, but took it. I wasn’t even angry or anything! I was happily waiting to be served, but this guy wouldn’t have it.

I had to have it, free.

Five minutes later and I was walking off with my cappuccino warming my hands.

But that was only the beginning you see. The coffee was only starting to course through my veins.

😜

I was in Myer and looking through the Christmas gifting section… thinking of who to buy for, what I could get, looking for some inspo, all that jazz…

And while sipping on my delightful free coffee, looking at all the amusing things around me…

Something happened.

Mariah Carey “All I want for Christmas is you” happened.

😯

In case you don’t know… I LOVE CHRISTMAS SONGS.

Sure I was looking at Christmas stuff, but there was no definitive Christmas soundtrack in the department store. Up until then it had just been a random collection of pop stuff.

But then, Mariah.

I had to breathe deeply when the next song followed:

“It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.”

(Oh God it really is).

And then the clincher…

Wham’s Last Christmas.

🀯

Inside, my body was doing something like this:

But on the outside, I was showing this:

Seriously, I was sooo buzzing, and just wanted to break out into song.

“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart

But the very next day, you gave it away…”

All because of a little well-timed coffee and Christmas music.

πŸ˜‰πŸŽ„πŸŽ

#1362 Of course Mate

I’m just a little bit happy.

Nothing major. But I think you should know by now that I celebrate the little things as much as, if not more, than the big things.

Sunsets. Dancing. Food. To name a few.Β 

But I am really loving my writing course… my ‘novel writing’ one. I have to explain, because yes, this week I started another. These online things are bloody addictive.

And soooo much fun. I’ve been chatting to the same group of people now for months, sharing our stories and words and giving each other inspiration and ideas and insight, and it is just bloody brilliant.

I am reading things I never would have normally read, getting all excited about the worlds they have created, they are giving me pats on the backs about my stuff, and all in all I feel like I have made a bunch of friends… friends who I don’t know, friends who I may pass obliviously on the street… but nevertheless, friends.

Writing buddies. I am having fun.

That is all πŸ™‚ And that also is everything.

#1344 A different festival

It’s that time of year where Mornington puts on a show and has it’s annual Main street festival.

We have gone every year since sea changing… it’s been 3 years in a row.

Today would have been 4… if we had gone.

But I had a more important festival to attend.

The Mornington Peninsula and Frankston Writers and Book Festival.

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Even the trees outside the venue, are MY trees. I love them. I see them all around the Peninsula. They are also the trees my story characters pass by on their way to school each day.

πŸ˜‰

It was an insightful couple of hours. I had booked into a workshop on ‘publishing.’ And though I got great tips and information on the industry, heard about the pros and cons of traditional versus self-publishing, I still walked away going “huh. I already knew a lot of that.”

It wasn’t that it wasn’t helpful. Just being in the room and sharing a table with other aspiring novelists was HUGELY beneficial. It motivated me in my writing dreams even further, and made me realise how important being a part of a writing community is, in sharing ideas, teaching each other information, and engaging in that writer-ly camaraderie, that feeling we get when we hear the other’s woes and go, ‘Ahh. I feel your pain.’

But the point at which I realised knowing what I already did was to my advantage, was when the workshop teacher, an editor and business owner of her own publishing company said to us –

“Often when I tell people all of this they become discouraged.”

A few people voiced their joking concerns.

“Ahh traditional publishing is too hard.”

“Self publishing is just as trying.”

Me? I was sitting there going… nope.

Been there, done that.Β 

Nothing about that process could scare me. I have been through the scenarios a million times in my head before. Sure there is a lot of luck and perseverance involved in finally getting your work out there and published…

But there is no other way for me. There is no other outlet. There is no alternative option.

Writing is the ONLY WAY.

And can I tell you a secret? Years ago when I used to read up on writing and publishing, the information I got back suggested at ‘if you are lucky enough to get published…’

Whereas nowadays it isΒ “when you get published…”

Either my sources have grown in reputation, maybe it’s the courses I am doing, or maybe I am deciphering the messages differently, as I grow more confident and positive, so too what I read becomes so…?

But I truly believe that to be the case. WHEN.

I got home from my workshop day, and then sat at the computer to do, what else…?

Work on another submission for my online course.

As Elizabeth Gilbert asked in Big Magic, “What is your flavour of shit sandwich?”

Guys, over and over again, I will pick writing. All flavours of shit just to be able to write.

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