All posts by tribalmysticstories, lazylittlefrog.com

Author, Artist, Arts Curator, Climate Activist, Anti - Violence against Women, and Entrepreneur
blogging, Culture and Heritage, Life, Living, People, Stories, Women, writing

Blogging your book away – how much is too much?

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Will posting chapters and parts of your book on your blog take away from your publishing success?

My_Memoir_Tuesday_Cartoon

I have been told often that I should save more of my blog posts to include in my memoir. Usually this advice comes from people who love and care for me. I really appreciate that concern. I know this concern was not expressed for the fear of copyright, although I should be concern about that too; I am told I am ‘giving away’ a section of writing that may be building up tension or crucial to the climax of a chapter or even the memoir itself.

We choose what we share on our blogs. I know I could be just giving away the important parts in my memoir without realising it, but as I write the story evolves. I also feel the need to challenge my self even more by improving that story after I have posted it. Often I feel that if I re-write as much as I can, I like it more and the story becomes another story – an even better story. I remember things and add them. I show what I am saying better, with the right words. I enjoy details, sound, smell, how it feels and colours. When I re-write often, I speak the English word better, because it is not my first language and I need the practice. This may sound confusing, but it is about the evolution of the story and how the story journeys through its form until it becomes the one invention I and hopefully the editor is satisfied with.

I am grateful for the good advice, and without being too cocky, I must admit, my other fault lies in wanting to share immediately. My enthusiasm and thrill of a draft completion leads to, the need to read the story to someone. I want to tell the story.  This may not be what other aspiring authors do. And, I am not advising anyone on what they should do with their potential best-seller. I wanted to make a point that whatever bits and pieces you read of my memoir is a piece of the story. I hope by the time I complete the memoir, I would still offer you a whole story and not six chapters of what I have left – from blog posts. Perhaps some of the blogger/author friends can share in the comments, how they manage this issue. Now, I have another story to tell…..

Recently through my friend and fellow WordPress blogger hiMe, I found another Papua New Guinea/Australia woman writer, June Perkins. As we bloggers do, we socialise while we write. For me to find a wantok, someone from your place, it is quite special. Perkin’s work has been published on Australia Broadcasting Commission(ABC Open) that hiMe writes for.  Once hiMe gave me the link and I reached out, it did not take long for June to come to the meeting place – this blog.

I am very happy to get to know June (virtually) and read some of her stories. It is also wonderful to find stories between us that have similarities and that common place. Reading through June’s posts, I found this piece of writing and I was thrilled that it was related to my post tonight about how much is too much to share on blogs. I hope you enjoy June’s post and have time to visit June Perkins‘ blog in the future.

dancingintoslipstreamlarge
A possible cover for an upcoming book – bringing my poetry on Art and Spirituality together – June Perkins

My blog is the place where the journey to my books has begun.

I have fed them continuously like journals with drafts and polished works.

Blogs have helped me make writing, remembering, reflecting and imagining a regular practice.

Blogs have encouraged me to make photography a regular practice.

Through reading other blogs I have found storytellers, poets, writers, travellers, film makers, and people who want to bring peace to the world through art. These people have inspired me with their journeys, writing, and photographs in their blogs.

Blogs have helped me so much so that when I have lived in the outer/country, I sometimes felt cut off from this larger creative world.

Blogs helped me heal from the damage of a cyclone to my old home and become a community journalist.

My own blogs have become a resource, full of roughly cut books. They have become archives for my family and friends to search our shared history.

Now I begin another journey. On this one, I take the rough cuts and unstructured writings shared the blogs and begin to place them into book structures.

It is time for me to polish more.

I move beyond the relatively free form of my blog and start to create anthologies and memoirs with sections, and chapters, and titles. I edit my blogs and add and subtract from them.

I create new pieces to connect blogs posts, and put them in these books, and save up for when they go public. They are held back from my blog to be surprises. My blog increasingly becomes a place for sharing the process of what I am up too rather than the final product.

The most inspiring things about blogs are:

1- The way they can potentially connect with the writer with readers and invite an immediate response.

2- The way blogs can respond to national and international events in the moment.

3- Their cheap access to a publishing platform for many in the world.

4- Their global reach.

5- Their capacity to build an audience for an emerging storyteller.

The challenges of a blog can be:

1- Blogging becomes addictive. You keep feeding your blog and not get on with sending off works for publication.

2- You share work you could or should be publishing as a book or article.

3- Copyright protection.

4-Some blogs focus too much on sales and not enough on content or connection. These blogs concentrate more on sale pitches and some are scammers.

5-Blogging can be challenging to build a large audience for your blog, and requires time, good quality content and social skills.

I will still blog when I have something I don’t want to forget, or something that moves my heart, or maybe a photo to share, but now I truly have to share a little less on my blog, and make you some SURPRISES.

More soon…..

(c) June Perkins

blogging, Life, Living, Stories, writing

Amputated Digits

4 Comments

I hear you..I like how you said this. That was my time in journalism – a third got chopped. I bet the editors love it.

Michael's avatarCor Novus

Besides my scribblings in Cor Novus, I also contribute to a Community Newsletter where I live.  For the very large part, the contributions to the newsletter are simply a regurgitation of stuff I already put in here. Like nearly all regurgitions, not everything comes back in the same form that it went in.

In the blog I am free to let my writing Muse roam and ramble at will. I DO edit for length and comprehension but for the most part I just let the inner-voice speak as it wills and wants. It’s a different story for the newsletter. Space is premium and I sometimes have to cut as much as a third from the original that you see published here.WritersBlock

A THIRD! Oh My God, the PAIN!

Every writer of any worth that I have ever heard speak will tell you that words and stories and articles and essays…

View original post 138 more words

blogging, Life, Living, Nature and Environment, wildlife, writing

Nothing Came With the Rain

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The Family
First days in the family (Australian Wood ducks).

The rain eased at noon in Bellbowrie, Queensland today, but only for a few minutes. It has been storming for two days. The rain’s destruction was evident in washed garden beds and the main road overflows. I found some of my cuttings and seedlings floating in odd places, near the main road.

Yesterday, at the Coles Supermarket we were unable to purchase staple food like bread and rice. A Cole’s staff member said residents had a panic buy, stocking up in case it flooded like the 2011 Queensland floods. The supermarket was empty.

Several places outside our house were flooded. I had kept indoors and started a new artwork and read blogs. Only two days of wet weather and storms – yet there was too much water. On the news Brisbane was supposed to have 500mm of rain over the weekend. More rain will come.

In the distant, I heard a familiar cry that tugged at my heartstrings. I left the watercolour and went outside to the balcony.

“Listen!” I told my son Nathan.

We both waited and the cry was muffled by the sound of rain on our iron rooftop. It came again and I knew the cry was coming from the open field and then it moved around the back, near the duck’s nesting ground. She did come back. Her cries were strange, long and despondent. I knew.

“It’s her, something has happened”, I said.

I put my raincoat on and walked through the drizzle in the soft mushy flooded ground to her. The male duck, her partner was by her side, quiet. They made a striking couple. Her brown and white spotty breast and belly topped with deep brown-black wings, and he with a touch of spotty chest, blue-grey and black flumes. They stood on the fuzzy open plain of short stubby blue couch, Queensland’s native grass. The rain water was caught in the grass blades giving it a wet, fuzzy sheen.

I looked around the two ducks. The seven ducklings were nowhere to be seen. My heart sank. The inevitable had happened. The mother’s face was turned towards the pool, where she had hatched them. Her neck stretched forward and long in a breaking curve. Her mouth was wide opened, showing her pink insides as she wailed. Her cries were louder as I got closer. My eyes warmed into tears.

She looked at me and stopped crying. I stopped a few meters away. I wished I had some duck-words to comfort her. I could only offer her some food and walked away.

blogging, Life, Living, People, Stories, Stories about people, writing

Love Is..

20 Comments

I-heart-you-hanging-Happy-Valentines-Day-2015-Wallpaper
http://www.etcpb.com/say-i-love-you-in-unique-style-on-happy-valentines-day-2015/

I believe love is the greatest and the most powerful emotion of all emotions we feel as human beings. Every person needs love in whatever form they can get. If we have love from our children, friends, lovers or partner, and some from pets, (or blog readers), love is the one thing that would make us feel good about ourselves. I truly believe love makes us better people. In this application, the love I am referring to is the romantic kind. I also hope I am interpreting this challenge the right way.

In a recent Valentine’s Day Challenge, my friend MillieThom nominated me to write ten four-word phrases about LOVE. The phrases must represent what I believe is love. Then, I must state one favorite love quote from a book, a movie or a famous person and then tag ten other bloggers to do the challenge as well. I have nominated a dozen. I believe that love is important to all of us – friends, readers and writers. It is a good challenge for poets and romance writers but as writers in general, we all would have or will experience and write about love at some point, so if I nominate you, have a go! as we say in Australia.

Here are my ten, four word phrases about LOVE:

Love is . . .

….. magic without spoken words

……a temptress at play

……an arrow of doom

……seeing quicksand at work

…….a work of art

….. soft strings in tangle

……knowing, hearts can open

……a devil in disguise

……a wild, crazy emotion

……soars when hearts entwine

…….a song of hearts

love_037
Image: Public domain

 

Now for my favourite love quote – (I can’t do a short phrase for love)

A love message from Bob Marley.

“Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are. The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid it’s like being young again. Colours seem brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn’t exist at all. A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long day’s work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, there’s no need for continuous conversation, but you find you’re quite content in just having them nearby. Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you. You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon. You open your heart knowing that there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you. You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end. Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life.”
― Bob Marley

Beautiful-Love-Heart-On-Sand-Wallpaper
Image: Public domain

 

I have nominated a dozen love messengers. I could have done more, but I was told to do ten. Have fun!

Nominations:

Let’s Cut The Crap

Nomzi Kumalo

Jambo Robyn

Patrick Jones

The Big House and Other Stories

Chris The Story Reading Ape’s blog

Jack Henry Kraven

Love Letters to Spam

glimmer of happiness

Crime Fiction Writer Sue Coletta

Power Plant Men

kbailey373

 

Art, blogging, Culture and Heritage, Life, Living, My Art, Nature and Environment, writing

The Spirit of Tema

10 Comments

h2_1979.206.1519
Breastplate (Tema, Tambe, or Tepatu), late 19th–early 20th century Santa Cruz Islands, Solomon Islands Tridacna shell, turtle shell, trade cloth, fiber; Diam. 7 3/8 in. (18.7 cm) The Michael C. Rockefeller Memorial Collection, Bequest of Nelson A. Rockefeller, 1979 (1979.206.1519)

The tema or kapkap are flat, round breast plates or disks made and worn as men’s chest or forehead ornament in the Solomon Islands. Tema is one of my favourite ornaments from the Melanesian region.

Tema from Malaita
Tema from Malaita. Public domain image.

I particularly like the tema because of its spiritual meaning,  its stunning appearance and temas take a long time to make, by hand. A A tema in the Melanesian culture is regarded as a spiritual object. They are worn as a protective shield during tribal warfare and for general well-being. The white part of the tema represents the moon. It is made from the giant clam shell. In the Santa Crus Islands, the traditional symbol of the frigate bird, shark or dolphin is intricately carved out of the turtle shell and embedded or attached to the clam shell base. The brown necklace is made from bark and bush ropes.

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http://www.victoriaginn.com/solomon-islands Photographer Victoria Ginn. Malaita man dressed with his tema.

 

 

blogging, Life, Living, Nature and Environment, Stories, wildlife, writing

Saved Duck Returns With Babies

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Will the ducklings make it?

Mr Cuddle

The wild duck we saved twice, once from the drought (in December last year) and the second time from the python has hatched seven ducklings today in our backyard at Bellbowrie, Queensland. The python had taken one of the two ducks we saved (see story here) last February and the rest of its siblings died from the drought and the cold.

our-two-ducks

Today,  my two sons already saved the seven ducklings from being eaten. As I write this story, I can hear the ducklings quacking in high baby pitches and I am torn between separating them for a safer enclosure or leaving them out in the bush with their mother and father. I have made a warm bed and tried to make their hiding place as safe as it can be but the babies could be eaten before day break. As babies do, they are making too much noise and soon, others will know their hiding place – the swimming pool skimmer box.

Art, blogging, Life, Living, People, Stories

Short Film: The Landing

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ENGLISH, FRENCH, SPANISH, ITALIAN AND ARABIC SUBTITLES AVAILABLE A short-film from Perception Pictures.

A man returns to the Midwestern farm of his childhood on a desperate mission to unearth the horrifying truth of what landed there in the summer of 1960.

blogging, Life, Living, Nature and Environment, Stories, wildlife, Women, writing

Short Story: Swamped

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Pneumatophore_overkill_-_grey_mangrove
From Wikimedia Commons, the free media repository

If you have missed the story opening published last week, click here

Although peeking through the pale mud with life and vibrancy, the young mangrove regrowth looked naked and vulnerable against the open swamp, and without the mother-tree nearby. In the distant, under the long shadows, piles of de-skinned fallen mangrove laid like stacked cadavers. This was part of an extensive wetland area used for fishing and gathering food like sugo, small snails and Kina, a fresh water mussel. There was some kind of an order in the distribution of the mangrove shoots along the random waterways. It was a peculiar, and neat arrangement. Amongst this orderly disarray, I stood out like the tallest cross in a dwarfed graveyard. The young mangrove shoots only came to my knees, just like the old stumps.

I must remove myself from here, I had thought although this had always been our favourite fishing spot. Today, the place felt strange, unlike before. Before, we would fish for hours and take our breaks on the logs. We ate with one hand and smacking of mosquitoes, then wiping their blood off and scratching the small bite mounds with the other hand. I had been to this place with my Grandma and Aunty Yellow. I also came here with my cousin Alison before she lost her mind to Malaria. I should not have been here alone today.

Once when Alison was eleven and I twelve we spotted a stranger here. On that day, we had brought with us Tinang’s (grandma) bush knife, which we were forbidden to use. The bush knife had cost a lot of money and one bush knife served many families in many ways. It turned out, the man we had seen was not a stranger, nor was he real. From his actions and the way the Sockwing (a type of wag-tail) birds were calling, my cousin and I became alarmed and we ran off, leaving grandma’s bush knife behind. I had to run back and get it. If we had left the knife there, we would have been punished for taking the bush knife. We were told that same evening, the man we had seen was a spirit of a dead great-uncle. This too was his favourite fishing spot.

I thought I saw a movement and my eyes tried to focus. Nothing seemed out-of-place, and everything around me looked like it had always been.

The Japanese bombing in the Second World War left a large gap in the wetlands. The bombs opened the place as wide as a soccer field, and made it lifeless; right in the middle of the thick mangrove that was relished by fish, birds, snakes, lizards and all kinds of insects. My Aunty Yellow said, in the open centre, mangrove regeneration since the bombing struggled for decades. The bomb explosions took both natural and human lives; our great-uncle was amongst those.

Apart from the war, this place was a landmark because the mouths of many small creeks gathered into the head of the largest one, which flowed into the main river, named Bu-dac. Budac meant Blood River, a name that reminded us of our history.

Our house was built along the river near its centre and at the entrance to our village. In pidgin, it is called, maus-rot which means mouth road.

I was standing at the head of Budac. There was a large T-junction, where the main creek met the river. The swamp clay was very soft and pale and covered with dead rotting leaves. In the dark river, life existed; a place where fresh-water fish feeding, spawning and nursery took place. Fish gathered daily to feast on other fishes and debris collected and deposited by the creek as well as the river at this meeting point. Not today, I had not seen fish movement breaking the water rhythm nor its surface. I could not understand nor remember why I was here today, and alone – only a few kilometres away from our village, just outside Lae, Papua New Guinea.

(© JLeahy, 2015)

More Swamped soon…

Art, blogging, Cool stuff, Living, People, Stories

Cool Stuff – Glow in the Dark

5 Comments

glowing-resin-table-mike-warren-8
“I thought of this project after browsing the aisles at a lumber store and seeing Pecky Cypress,” Mike Warren told Bored Panda. “I’ve never seen anything like it and knew I wanted to make something with it”

For his year 12 school project for his Technology class, my son Chris and his friends are making a piece of furniture for the school and the school pays for the materials. Chris has suggested a large drawing and planning table for the technology room.  The classroom only has a work area so the table would be an asset to the programme. Chris’s group decided to go with a glow in the dark table which also looks just as pretty in normal lights. That was how, I learnt about the glow in the dark table. This short story shows you what they look like.

Our Cool Stuff for the week is the Glow in the Dark table by Mike Warren. You can use the same technic for chairs and other furniture but I think the resin is more effective on a larger piece.

Mike Warren is a furniture designer and enthusiast. He created this table that illuminates at night after being exposed to light during the day. The illumination comes from mixing the photoluminescent powder with the resin and using it to fill the holes that form naturally in Pecky cypress wood.

“The type of wood I used for this table is known as ‘pecky cypress’, which is regular cypress that has been naturally damaged with a fungal growth inside causing sections to rot” Warren said.

Warren removes the damaged pockets and leaves cavities in the wood  for the resin and glow powder filling. The pockets of damaged (rotten) cypress are soft and can easily be removed with compressed air and some light digging with a hand tool as shown in the video below.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KeskG-bFG9o#t=19

 

 

blogging, Life, Living, Stories

Valentines Day Can Make You Happy

8 Comments

Well, that’s what those who conducted this experiment say. I say, why can’t Valentine’s Day be any day for love? Pick any day and call it your special day for you and your loved ones.

LOVE should be celebrated every day!