Author: Justin Page 26 of 65

Today I tried to break apart a story I’ve been struggling with for about the last six months. It’s been through a few drafts, has been effectively finished for some time now, and has twice as many words that I’ve deleted than I’ve kept. But it’s just not quite right.

Briefly, it’s a sci-fi story about an engineer on a cargo ship who finds … something. And it changes her. The rest of the [very small] crew debate whether she’s been infected with something or not. It plays happily with some Alien type tropes, but waits until the end to tell us what’s really going on.

At first I thought one of the problems might be the shifting point of view. The first few scenes are told from the Engineer’s POV; then the rest of the story is presented from the other crew members’ POVs. This is more or less necessary to maintain the sense of mystery (I tried a few early drafts that continued from the Engineer’s POV, but it muddied the story since we don’t yet know what’s happening to her). This shifting POV bugged me a little, however, since the story kicks off with a great lead character, and then we shunt her into the background for the rest of narrative. I eventually decided that this was probably ok, so long as there’s a big focus on how my lead character has affected those other characters.

Which brings me to how, exactly, does she affect those characters? There’s a major theme in the story of loss; so I needed a way for my supporting characters to echo that, while ensuring that their relationship with the lead character provides a degree of either catalysis or catharsis. I remembered that one of the characters reflects on his mother at one point, so the obvious thing there was to extend this into that character grieving over his mother. My other POV character is older–the captain of the ship, in fact–so flipping the same idea around and having him mourning a lost daughter provide a nice parallel, while adding a dimension to his relationship with the younger, female Engineer.

So far, so good. A few little things to add here and there.

Conversely, the final change is to trim the end of the story a bit. The current version has a couple of scenes that wrap up some loose ends, but what really needs to happen is for us to return to our lead character. I reckon most readers will thank me for trimming away some exposition in favour if bringing us back to the lead character and the overall point of the story. A nip and a tuck here and the plot structure should be as tight as the characterisation.

And, hopefully you’ll all get the chance to judge whether I made the right call sooner or later 😉

I’m going through a bit of a writing slump lately. I’m still writing. I’m doing these blog posts. I’m writing content for my Super Secret Podcast Project. I’m getting up every morning to write stories, but I’m either not hugely excited about them, or I’m struggling to work out how to do them justice.

It might just be the time of year–I never seem to do well when the seasons change. Hopefully it’ll pass, but in an effort to try and push through it a bit, I’ve decided that each of this week’s posts will focus on my writing.

Starting with this one.

Which has just ended.

Today was a #childfree Sunday and really crystallised something I’ve been aware of for the much of the last month: the novelty is starting to wear off a little. I’m tending to miss the kinderbesten a bit more over these weekends, I’m finding less that needs doing around the house (or that I can be bothered doing). I’m–dare I say it–getting a little bored …?

I’m still relishing the opportunity to have some time to myself, but I feel that it’s time to take a fresh approach to these weekends. The ‘time off’ has become unfulfilling in it’s own right, which means it’s time to find stuff to fill the time with. Right? It’s time for some new routines.

I don’t know what those routines are. I just know that I don’t want to slip into wasting these weekends by aimlessly pottering around the house, or watching whatever comes to mind to fill the time.

Watch this space …

Today I sort of accidentally did a bunch of Christmas shopping. Every year I am traditionally terrible at Christmas shopping, usually leaving it to the last minute and never having the faintest clue what to get anyone.

That’s still mostly true, but I’ve done Christmas shopping for the Kinderbesten now. The Big Main presents for the Kinderbeast happened a little while a go thanks to me carpeing the diem out of some online sales. The Elderbeast’s Big Main present was also sorted thanks to him agreeing to put some of his birthday and Christmas cash towards a new laptop (and me then ordering said laptop).

That still left ‘stocking fillers’, for which I approached the local mall with a partial list in mind–for each beast: a cuddly toy; a book; a movie; and something ‘crafty’. Of course, it wasn’t that easy. Saturday morning shopping quickly proved to be 10% inspiration, and 90% “why am I not doing this online???”

So I grabbed some cuddly toys, some LEGO, and a few other moment-of-inspiration knick-knacks, and fled home, where I ordered some books and movies online to finish off the package.

True, I still need to buy literally everyone else’s presents, but the kinderbesten are all sorted – and it’s not even December!

Tonight, for Friday Horror, we watched Life. Not the David Attenborough documentary series; rather, the Alien inspired sci-fi horror movie that came out earlier this year. It was a film I went to see at the cinema mere days after the collapse of my marriage, so I was interested to revisit it with a clear mind, as it were.

The story is fairly standard for the genre, and concerns a group of people who get completely fucked over by a parasite they allow into their midst.

Given my state of mind at the time, I was surprised how much of it I remembered. Then again, it’s got some pretty memorable scenes–a certain character’s death scene among them. It’s a film that doesn’t set out to do anything more than it says on the box, and I generally appreciate that in a film. Life knows that it’s basically doing a slightly fresh spin on Alien and doesn’t have any pretensions beyond that. It’s got a group of characters who need to die in creative ways; it’s got a sci-fi creature that needs to be at least be something a little bit different; and it needs to do something fun with the ending. It ticks all of those boxes with flying colours.

Yeah, that’s a mixed metaphor. What are you gonna do about it?

More dreams last night, and not good ones.

I dreamt that I went to see the new Han Solo movie (which isn’t even out yet). For some reason it looked very much like The Empire Strikes Back, and they’d gone with a digitally de-aged Harrison Ford as the star. These sort of choices are why I’m not a famous Hollywood director. Or, a Hollywood director at all …

Anyway, the film ends and it’s a MUCH longer film than I had anticipated because it’s already the evening and I’m late collecting my youngest son from school. I rush to my car, except my car isn’t anywhere to be found. I finally reason that it must have been towed away. I try to find a number to call, but I can’t find a number anywhere. And it doesn’t even matter because the phone app has completely vanished from my phone!

Not a cool dream!

I had a bunch of weirdass dreams last night that I blame partly on the heat and partly on watching Stranger Things right before bedtime. Apart from that, neither of them really made sense. All I know is that I woke up dead tired today with my head full of fuzz.

In the first dream, which I barely remember, I was in some sort of warehouse. Except this warehouse was in my actual house (so it was a house warehouse). I chanced upon some intruders so I called the police, who conveniently appeared instantly. However, the police decided to simply start shooting the intruders and it all went Reservoir Dogs very, very quickly.

In the second dream I was being kept prisoner in someone else’s house (no, I don’t know if they had a personal warehouse too). After many months I finally twigged that my captor left for work every day and it would be safe for me to climb out of the window and escape. I then wondered the streets in a state of shock until I chanced upon a convenient police station, into which I headed in order to report my lengthy ordeal. However, as soon as I started speaking, the officer on duty, apparently very moved by my plight, burst instantly into tears. The rest of the dream was taken up by me trying to plot the location of my former prison on Google Maps. Not with very much success …

Today the Elderbeast decided we should make french fries for dinner.

(Actually, he decided this yesterday, but I already had dinner sorted for yesterday, so we deferred his inspiration to today…)

So I found a basic recipe–for oven-baked ‘fries’, since I don’t do the deep fryer thing–I sliced the potatoes (which was much quicker and easier than I anticipated). Then the Elderbeast mixed them with the oil and seasoning, and painstakingly arranged them on the baking try. We put them in the oven, let the cooking science do its thing, and ended up with a tray of pretty awesome looking fries!

It’s not the most riveting story, but I’m sharing it because it’s a rare case of everything just going right. And going damn tasty, too …

I bought a Google Home Mini last week. I’d been vaguely considering one, thinking that the kids would have a blast with it, which was of course the perfect excuse for me to buy one so I could fiddle around with it. A 20% off deal on eBay sealed the deal and in a matter of hours I had one in my clammy little hands.

It’s turned out to be a lot more useful than I thought. Not life-changing, and it certainly doesn’t do anything I couldn’t already do: it simply makes things easier.

For example, I watch a lot of stuff through my Chromecast. It’s awesome, but the one area it falls down (at least on iOS) is when you have to pause something. The process goes a little like this:

• Unlock your phone
• Find/open the Google Home app
• Click the little icon to get to the screen that shows you what’s playing
• Wait for the Google Home app to register that the Chromecast is playing something
• Hit the pause button

It’s hardly laborious, but it takes a second or two. But now all I have to do is say this:

• “Hey, Google – pause”

It’s a similar process for getting stuff playing through the Chromecast – which wasn’t especially hard to begin with. Whereas I’d previously open, say, the Netflix app, click the cast button, wait for it to connect, then start playing my chosen programme; now I can just say:

• “Hey Google, play Star Trek Discovery [on Netflix] on Chromecast”

You can skip the “on Netflix” bit, since the Google Home will typically default to finding your programme on Netflix anyway. Another useful feature is that, although the Google Assistant can’t select specific episodes of TV shows (yet), Netflix will default to the latest unwatched episode. And if it gets it wrong a quick “Hey Google – next episode” will usually fix things.

I don’t have many other smart devices (yet), but I do have a Yeelight lightstrip that works through the wifi network, and has an ‘action’ available in the Google Home app. Once I’d set that up (which was easy), I was able to do things like:

• “Hey Google, turn Yeelight lightstrip on”
• “Hey Google, change Yeelight lightstrip to green”

Even better was the realisation that, because I only have the one lighting device, I could just say things like:

• “Hey Google, turn lights on”

Another area where the Google Home makes life a little easier is, perhaps not surprisingly, helping you search for things. For example, instead of going into the Youtube app and typing ‘Guardians Inferno’, then selecting the Guardians Inferno video and hitting play, I can just say:

• “Hey Google, play Guardians Inferno on Youtube [on Chromecast]”

So, yeah, it doesn’t do anything I can’t do already, but it’s one of those things that just makes your life a few percent nicer. Plus, it’s pretty cool being able to turn lights on with your voice!

I’ve been appalled by Australia’s policy towards asylum seekers for many years now, alongside a good many other people. It was pretty bad before the “stop the boats” mantra took over politics. It’s been positively poisonous since Scott Morrison and Peter Dutton began managing the state-sanctioned torture of asylum seekers: people who, we need to remember, are already victims, and who are guilty of nothing more than fleeing persecution.

In recent weeks, as our Prime Minster Malcom Turnbull actively sought to deny food and medical aid to the people he has consciously and deliberately detained on Manus Island, my disgust has reached new depths. I know that there are many people out there contacting their representatives to express their own disgust, and I know that sometimes when enough people speak out it can make a difference. So I’ve decided to speak out. It’s not much, but I’m happy to add my voice to that chorus. I’ve also literally put my money where my mouth and donated some cash to the Asylum Seeker Resource Centre, who are out there actively trying to find food for people who are being starved by the Australian government, and who are busy trying to find urgent medical aid for those people towards whom the government has forgotten it has a duty of care.

Below is a letter I’ve written to Malcolm Turnbull, and copied to the Minister for Immigration and his deputy. Lower down is a another letter I’ve written to ‘opposition’ leader Bill Shorten (opposition in quotes, since I haven’t heard much opposing going on) and have also copied to the Shadow Immigration Minister and my local Labor representative.

Dear Malcolm

I immigrated to Australia a little over ten years ago. I viewed it as a place where I could raise my children and provide them a good, happy and healthy life. I saw the stated value of having “boundless plains to share” as one of compassion and generosity that I could instill in my children. I believed the spirit of having a “fair-go” offered my family, as well as anyone else who cared to come here, a fine chance for having the future we all wanted.

Instead I find myself living in a country where my eleven year old son has a stronger grasp on the concept of equal rights than our “leader”. I find that my son, even with his natural spirit of stubbornness and obstinacy, walks with a more open mind than our “leader”. I find that my son has developed a healthy disgust for your policies and your lack of regard for basic human rights.

What does this mean, when an eleven year old, who is still learning about his place in the world, is a better human being than our Prime Minister. Incidentally, I placed the word leader in quotes above because we don’t have one. A leader takes his people forward. A leader sets the example for those who follow. You do neither.

I also have a five year old son, who will have questions of his own before too long. Perhaps you can help answer some of them for me:

• How do I explain to my son that leaving people to die on Manus–not just abandoning them, but actively denying them food, water and medical treatment—is anything but murder?
• How do I explain to my son that leaving these people to die is justified because we’re saving lives at sea? (I know that one’s a lie, by the way, so I’ll let this one go)
• How do explain to my son that all people deserve equal rights, when we’ve recently put that very question to a national debate with your expensive survey?
• How do I explain to my son that history is valuable, when your government ignores all the lessons that the past has taught us?
• How do I explain to my son the dilemma of being told to respect his elders, when you deserve none?

I was appalled when Tony Abbott was voted Prime Minister. But I’ve been absolutely astounded that his successor has been so much worse. You will, inevitably, be remembered as Australia’s worst Prime Minister: as the man who allowed innocent families to die on Manus; as the man who failed every LGBTQ person in the country; as the man who wrecked our internet.

The list goes on, but I’ll leave it there in favour of one last question. Please, tell me: how do you sleep?

I really wonder about that.

Kind regards

And to the Opposition:

Dear Mr Shorten

I attach a letter that I have today sent to Malcolm Turnbull, Prime Minister of Australia. I trust its content makes my feelings regarding his actions as Prime Minister abundantly clear. The failings, however, are not on his side alone.

It should be clear that I am unlikely to ever vote Liberal, and neither, I hope, will my children. At this point in time it is almost as unlikely that I would vote Labor, but that has potential to change.

So, I write to you today to ask just one question: what are you going to do?

The silence—the absence of both outrage and action—from your party, while refugees have been actively persecuted by our Government is simply shocking. This is no longer a justifiable policy (not that it ever was). This is no longer a deterrent (not that it was ever that, either). This is innocent people suffering and dying as a direct result of our government’s actions. And this is happening because our government has been allowed to do it. We have an Opposition Party that is not opposing it.

So: what are you going to do?

What are you going to do to convince both myself and my children that you not only value human rights, but that will protect them and fight against those who deny them? What are you going to do to persuade us that you value equal rights, and that you will stand up for all people of Australia equally? What are you going to do to convince my children that you will leave them a clean, healthy environment for their generation and the generations after?

And again: what are you going to do to stop innocent refugees being tortured by our government, in all of our names?

Simply put: what are you going to do to convince us to vote for you?

Yours faithfully