The Monster… WRITERS BLOCK!

Welcome one and all to my blog!

For All Hallows Eve (look, if you haven’t figured out I’m Australian by now here is you’re cue), I wish to present to those on the cusp and preparing for the dreaded thirty days of mayhem, trauma, and soul crushing despair, faced during the course of Nanowrimo, the kind of foe which every writer has come to know…

WRITERS BLOCK!

Scary, yeah?

*buffs nails* Nope.

I’ve won Nano the last four years in a row and I am going to give you a crash course on how to get this DONE.

And in case that wasn’t enough, I plan on writing TEN NOVELS IN 2019. Two of them in Nano. Who’s a loon?? THIS AUTHOR! But I’ve done the dreaded math and guess what? I can do it.

Want to know my secrets? come closer…

Writing Sprints.

If you are a writer you may have heard of these sprints.

The challenge is simple; set a timer of minutes, 5, 15, 20, 30, 60 and do nothing but write. No alt tabbing, no phone, no Twitter, you WRITE. You challenge yourself to get those words in, as many as you can. You don’t stop, don’t breath, don’t break for the bathroom.

I said WRITE!

When I started I think I got about 100 words in my first 20 minute sprint. With six years of writing under my belt I can get in about 2.5k in an hour.

Where this can go wrong is decisions/plotpoints/and the dreaded block, but I’ll discuss this below.

If you are a pantser (you write the story with no idea of where it is going to go) you are going to THRIVE on sprints.

If you are a plotter I suggest as minimal guidance to do a one line/paragraph on every chapter which will at least give you direction.

Yes, this method is really intense, but with good practice it does work. My last record for an 80k book using this method was written in 25 days and subsequently picked up by Indie press, Literary Wanderlust. (AFTER A BUTT LOAD OF EDITS).

There are several discord channels with this as a function and everyone joins in. It becomes a team and group effort. I will also have a pinned thread advertising when I am going into a sprint for Nanowrimo 2019.

This can be very difficult to accomplish if you have people who need your attention in your life; kids, family, loved ones with special needs (including yourself). It does not work for everyone, find what works for you.

Names

The hero’s weary horse reaches the cusp of a valley leading to… a foreign kingdom, surveying the twisting river called… called… the twisting river, wrapping around the castle of… of… a castle in the distance, and our hero,… who is our hero… he has a name… wtf is his name… Our hero, sighs in relief at having reached….

Whether you pants, or plot, do the prep before you start by having a guide of name generators booked marked in your web browser so you aren’t wasting time finding the “right” name. Get ANY name and move on.

You can fix it later, you can find replace weird names you don’t like, just get something close and move on with the script. Here is a helpful guide on generators for you, just to get you through.

Book mark them. Thank me anytime. No really, please, I did a lot to find these.

Description

Damien walked into the tavern, and it was a tavern… that had beer… and people drinking it.

Put a freaking X there and move on. Adding descriptive scenes can come later, don’t get caught up worry about it if you just feel the story tugging you along. Yes, I hate doing this, it bugs the crap out of me, but I’d rather let the flow of the story carry me along than worry about a thirty second scene in a second rate motel. Seriously, I’d only give it 2 stars, I think I saw a rat.

You can come back to these scenes, you can fix them later… which brings me to my next point.

DON’T EDIT

I mean it.

Yeah, I’m looking at you. I know the sort. I see you… just like I’ve seen parts of myself.

The perfectionist.

Seeking the perfect series of words…

The first to take out the blade to carve slices out of their darlings…

Leave it. I mean it. PUT THE SCRIPT DOWN.

I WILL SMACK YOUR DAMN HANDS IF YOU GO BACK AND EDIT!

Because you *aren’t* helping yourself if you are doing this while trying to Nano. You are worrying about words you will probably go back and change again later anyhow.

If you are one of those people who do that, and its where your comfort zone is, and you can’t stop it, I get it. But try making sure you can’t see what you wrote, scroll right up, do it consistently. Don’t put the past words in front of your face to tempt you to edit.

Resist the temptation – forge on. This is how you finish books.

Writers block.

Oh yes, my FAVOURITE demon.

But do you know what writers block is? For me, its like anxiety. Or depression. It was one a foe I did not have the tools to fight. Today, I’m going to loan you mine.

See this beauty? You might not know but I am an avid RPG player (roll playing gamer – no, not the custom and dancing about in fields with a sword kind, the kind that sits inside and curses normals and fights a pretend zombie apocalypse).

And the games I generally play are not… *gasp* D&D… Dungeons and Dragons.

I play and run Cthulhu, All Flesh, Chill, Pathfinder-… yes okay so its like DnD but it isn’t DnD. Don’t @ me.

*ahem*

You get to do a lot of things with a pair of dice for varying reasons in role playing, and I’ve written more about it here, but for the purposes of this blog post lets keep this short;

You have a choice.

Your heros arrive at the gates to a castle where a friend is being held captive in the bowels, accused of a crime they didn’t do… but…how do you get it?

You have options. Put yourself in the characters shoes and think; a castle has a front gate, and a servants entrance… two choices.

I like to roll a D100 to give more extreme ideas of how much they go in one direction and succeed or fail but any dice with even or odd chances is fine.

Any wall you face you are at a point, don’t focus on what to do next, focus on the options available, put yourself in the place, and roll a dice for the outcome.

You don’t know where the story might take you, and I generally find myself somewhere far more interesting… like Alice down a rabbit hole…

At the end of the day the person who is stopping you accomplishing this is you.

I’ve seen shift workers write on phones while in the car on a lunch break.

I’ve seen Mums on a tablet during soccer practice furious getting out a few hundred words.

I’ve sat next to the room of a dying man, writing away all the pain inside because I couldn’t not stop what was happening in that other room.

Ultimately, you are not fighting or writing or winning against me or anyone else.

You are finding out whether you have it in you.

And maybe you don’t this year, but maybe you will make the habits you need to improve your craft enough to keep going, and do it next year.

The whole point is to keep going. Keep writing. No matter what.

Find me here if you want to buddy too!

October 31, 2019 0

Write the Darkness Within

“I don’t know how you did it.”

The compliment came when I announced I’d completed my 2018 goal of writing six books. They didn’t know how I did it. Thinking back, neither do I.

I normally write a blog post at the end of the year about my accomplishments and hopes for New Year, like it was a wondrous learning experience. I save the post for New Years Eve, an achievement of great pride, to tally up that I at least had something to show, and would finish on a note of peace and hope.

Laying claim to six books sounds like I had an awesome year, it would have been a great post.

I did not have a good year. I didn’t want to write that post.

I had a very bad year that has been proceeded by several bad years and my writing suffered for it. I’d swing between writing something great, the editor has said no major changes to A Phantom Presence, which was a first for me. But for him to then say that To Chase a Prophecy was not Ok, I think I rewrote it twice.

And I didn’t get those books to him on time, or in the condition they *should* have been up in. Because of all the real world distractions that dragged me down, and left me feeling used, hopeless, and above all tired.

So how did I write those books? With sadness. With despair. With a wellspring of unquenchable rage that this was all I had in the world that mattered, and it mattered to few more than to me.

It consumed me.

It was my waking wrathful thoughts and my bitter night time regret.

I sat at the computer when I was hot, tired, dirty, mind blank, with nothing left except that that burning anger at the world and all the things in it that had gone wrong.

My work wasn’t a reflection of my mood. It was what drove the stories I intended to write.

I burned through words as I tried in vain to exhaust the endless anger within me. All it did was tally up a word count I wasn’t trying to prove to anyone, not even myself. I’d write over ten thousand words a day and shrug it off as thought it was nothing, because to me, it was just what I needed to do.

There is no other way to get word counts like this, and if I have gained anything from it, it’s the ability to sit down at a computer and write ten thousand words in a day. Day after day. I am not proud of that because when I was writing those words, all that mattered was the story, the all encompassing desire to write ceaselessly on.

So if you need advice on how to sit down and write six books in a year, if you need motivation pull you through that work in progress, I don’t have it. I wouldn’t wish this feeling on anyone.

Because underneath all that rage, all that wrath, all that energy I had nowhere else to direct, I found I was made of a one very simple component.

Determination.

Where I had failed at so many things, had so much taken away, this was mine.

No one could take it from me, no one could stop me, and no one could tell me I was wrong.

I lit up words, destroyed people, created endless streams of nonsense tangled in tales that were from waking nightmares and bitter memories. And I made it beautiful, but my own.

No one can tell you how to write.

No one has a magic wand on a best seller.

No one knows the story like you do, and no one can write it like you will.

Write from the darkness within, and you’ll find what you need. I know I did.

January 1, 2019 0

NaNoWriMo Survival Guide

So you signed up for Nanowrimo… good job!

There are a lot of guides out there, so I’m just going to tell you what works for me, take of it what you will.

First things first – Nano isn’t hard… for a vetran writer. Stephen King says write 2k a day, well you only have to write 1667 for Nano.

And you can do that two ways;

Panster – someone who just sits and writes as it comes to them

Plotter – someone who outlines what they are going to write before they do it

Generally, I’m a panster but I’ve normally seen the 3D movie version of the story inside my head beforehand… well, at least the scenes that would make it to the trailer for the film.

But for Nano I do a bit of plotting, and its because Nano day in day out can get hard. I normally ask for a week of leave off work just to do it. When you work full time that leave is precious, and I cant think of anywhere I’d rather spend it! This year I can’t do it, so I’m plotting. That way, when I sit at a computer to write, I know exactly what I should be working on.

How do you plot Nano?

It devolves down to outlines. I write novellas for Nano. 50k words on a novella is great, and with a prologue and epilogue it leaves me with 16 chapters at 3k a chapter (18 if you aren’t a fan of the prologue epilogue). If you like smaller chapters you can break it down further. So a table for those feeling intimidated;

34 Chapters @ 1500 words per chapter

25 Chapters @ 2000 words per chapter

18 Chapters @ 3000 words per chapter

Anything longer than this can get intimidating and basically be a bit of a time suck that doesn’t evolve into anything useful. You want to keep the general story short, punchy and interesting enough so you can rewrite the scenes with more detail when its done.

How do you keep going?

ITS ONLY 1667 WORDS A DAY!

Break it down.

Make it up.

Stretch it out.

Fill it up.

Nano is about writing on weekends and busting out 10, 15, 20k words over a weekend. Its about writing 500 words at lunch, first thing before work in the morning, and putting aside TV/gaming binge time to write. With an outline, you put on the write tunes (ahaha… I’m so punny), and you write as much of the scene as possible. That’s what its there for, it’s a guide, and then a ladder, and then when you invariably fall off, (we all do), a crutch towards the end of the month. Sure the story might deviate, but it does keep you focused on writing.

But I have writers block!

No, you don’t.

Writers block is a big fat self-doubt lie!

Realistically, characters only have a couple of choices. Think of your story, if you will, as a choose your own adventure book. If you were watching a movie, and someone paused it, and asked you what happened next, you’d probably take a stab in the dark about it, wouldn’t you? Well, getting past writers block is the same. Take a stab at it… literally or figuratively, whataever works for you.

Here is another cool way to do, to make the outcome random, fun and interesting!

Work out what the choices are, and the make one even and one odd, and then roll a dice. Trust me, this works. If you aren’t certain, treat the dice (even/odd) like an eight ball;

“Do they go down the passage? Even = yes, odd = no.”

Even.

“When they get to the end of the passage, do the get lost (odd) or find their way (even)?”

Odd.

“If they are lost, do they figure a way out (even), or do the need to be rescued (odd)?”

Odd.

“If they are rescued, is it by an ally (odd), or a enemy (even)?”

Even.

This may not work exactly the way you had it in mind… but it does promise to at least shake the story up enough for you to keep going.

I am finding it hard to find time to write…

No you aren’t, you aren’t making time to write.

Sit down and schedule your day.

What time do you get up?

Can you get up earlier?

What are you doing at lunch? Can you type or write in a notebook?

What do you do when you get home?

IS there an activity you are doing which is basically a brain reset, like gaming or watching TV?

Doing those “relaxing” activities are fine, but break it up. So do half an hour of writing, 15 mins of TV or gaming, and pace yourself. All of a sudden you have your daily quota, and you can spend the rest of the time relaxing for the day.

Other options

You can make up writing time but also give yourself credit!

Some people don’t count, but if you’re dead set on 50k words then do count, but only at the end of the day, last thing before bed.

If you’re happy and making plans don’t worry.

If you aren’t, ask yourself this; did I do all I could to make writing time, and if the answer is yes, then do me a favour. Congratulate yourself. Finding time to write while working full time, especially with kids, absolutely sucks. If you can do it you are an amazingly hard working writer.

If you’ve given up for the day, and fallen a little behind schedule, make it up over the weekend.

But most importantly, if you love writing, and want to prove that you can do this, for yourself, make time to just do one very important thing.

Love the story, fall into its arms.

Let yourself go and see where the muse’s hand takes you.

You never know how far you’ll go…

November 2, 2018 1

Where have I been?

Right here actually, I was right here working my behind off.

I’ve flung myself into the yet unnamed 3rd book of the Last Prophecy Series, and its proving to be beautiful but… a tad political, requiring oodles of research but that’s for another post when I DO have a title for the book.

I’m also neck deep in the reviews for Queen of Spades Awakening – and being told by my beta readers I shouldn’t release in February without the next book being ready. Why? Well it may have the smallest… tiniest… little cliff hanger. Ok, I’ll stop lying, its so awful my sister made me partially deaf in one ear when I told her I hadn’t written the next one yet. Which means plonking down and writing the next two because the 2nd one in the series also ends on a cliff hanger. I’m a sucker for cliff hangers.

On top of that my dear husband and I have settled on a builder and are in the process of starting the ball rolling on our plans for our first home. Exciting times I can tell you but it does mean there are going to be some pretty major crimps in my ability to keep my author platform afloat.

But what does that mean for my writing?

Well – I’ll keep going, and I’ll keep releasing them as I promised.

To Chase a Prophecy should be out in July and follows Kat in her adventure to her mother’s homeland of Rodovinia; and hopefully more answers on the Well of Youth and the other as yet unknown dangers in Nick’s translation of the Last Prophecy.

In October I will release A Phantom Presence; the next instalment of the Last Prophecy Series. The second book follows Detective inspector Ruslana Sergeyovak in Rodovinia’s capital, Kosyavko, as she tries to unravel a series of strange murders and why she believes they are linked.

Hopefully later this year – mid year at this stage – I will be able to release the first two books in the Queen of Spades Series. This is my first foray into Sci Fi Romance, though the story lends itself more to Sci Fi than romance. It’s a very different writing style and take on what I do in the Last Prophecy Series. I’m quite excited to be working on it and its main character is to die for. Literally.

There is also another book series I have off to the side that promises to be far darker than anything I’ve written yet, but my husband loves the concept, despite the sordid depths its going to sink to, and I blame my nightmares for it’s inspiration.

Fun as all that is, I’ll be taking a step back from my social media and advertising to focus on writing more. I’ll be designing my own covers for the foreseeable future, but the part that hurts most about all this is being unable to get any more of Nushi’s fabulous artwork done because we’re saving for the house.

I’ve bemoaned to fellow authors in the same predicament as me that we seem to give up an awful lot of things relentlessly pursuing this indie author dream. And the Treasure Planet line has been thrown about more than once, in fact, I expect certain friends to inact a daily quota I am not allowed to exceed.

I was explaining this beautiful scene from the Disney movie to someone who hadn’t seen it (and if you haven’t, spoilers, and stop reading this and go watch it, I don’t care how old you are). How moving it was to see Jim and Silver fly the little schooner about the stars. The eventual return to the main ship to dock for the evening, and how Jim tells Silver that he has all these plans. Silver looks so forlornly at him, telling him to be careful, that things don’t always turn out the way you plan. And for those of you who’ve seen it, Silver tells Jim, knowing that he’ll betray the newfound trust Jim has in him, sooner rather than later.

When Jim asks Silver how he lost his hand, Silver stars down on it, and it tears my heart out every time I see Silver look at cold steel, the metal folding into a curled fist, as though to hide that he cannot see the palm of his hand anymore. Those epic lines in the softest baritone tremble through the air; you give up a lot of things, chasing a dream.

How many times have I said that same thing, sitting over a keyboard wondering if my words will ever be read? Staring at thousands of hours of worth of text and wondering if anyone cares as much as I do for the story they hold. Fumbling my way through the plots and images in my head to make what I want to say be an engaging book.

But how do I always forget what Jim says next; was it worth it?

Yes. It’s a certainty breathed into my soul.

Because if it isn’t worth doing now then it won’t be worth it even when I can write full time, or have that publishing contract. It’s not worth it if I don’t get everything I can out of the process itself.

When I finished writing A Phantom Presence last year there was something very satisfying in not bursting into tears and feeling a horrid kind of mental anguish as I did so completely with the Well of Youth.

When I finished the Phantom I was quietly, assuredly, proud.

This year the goal is to write six books, publish four, and remember that this is a dream worth chasing.

February 6, 2018 2

The Well of Youth is LIVE!!

It didn’t dawn on me until I was sitting at the launch, the display out for everyone, that I felt like I could be excited! The local Mayor was coming to give a speech, my Dad flew down from the NSW coast unexpectedly, but I didn’t feel until that moment that I’d really done it.

As people started turning up it started to pass in a blur, but I got so many pictures, and I am pleased to say this is one of the few I took alone (the rest are with the many loved ones standing next to the banner with me – or without me, I’m looking at you David);

There was cake too! – Ok, so it doesn’t look like it, but that big fat book is really a big fat chocolate cake that was delicious, thank you Vaye!

I got to catch up with so many old friends, and people I didn’t expect who made the afternoon wonderful! It felt less about showing off what I’d done, and more being grateful to all the people there.

To Scott who spent so much time helping me with it.

To Nushie, who couldn’t be there, but gave me such beautiful artwork, breathing life into my stories.

To Kate for making me look so pretty.

To Caroline for making me not feel awkward when she took pictures.

To Lorna for being my aid that day, unquestioningly making it go smoothly.

And to Emily who cracked jokes when I was nervous.

To Dee who gave such a… moving speech. It was very hard to do my speech afterward!

All the friends who came from far and wide, and it felt far less like I was talking to a bunch of strangers about my self spoken importance, and more about how far I’d come, and that they’d all had a part of it.

To my husband’s family who was there to support me – it meant so much and they have always made me feel so included in their family, even if I was a little odd.

To my Dad… who didn’t just come, he helped inspire all of this. I still got through the speech but it wasn’t easy!

I spent the evening hanging out with old uni friends who hadn’t seen each other in years and eating pizza while we reminisced. And then I went home and tired as I was I couldn’t sleep!

The next day should have been about follow up but instead I was at the Allcan Events Fundraiser for Breast Cancer, giving a speech, not about my stories or that I was an author, but about my very brave aunt who fought off cancer for nearly twenty years.

A beautiful event hosted by a work collegue and friend, Gigi, I was honoured, not just that she took the time out of a busy prep Saturday for her fundraiser to come to my book launch, but she also asked me to speak at her luncheon.

Its been a few days coming but I am glad to see the books finally online everywhere and now the hard part of marketing.

I couldn’t have done any of it without the love and support of my husband to whom I am truly grateful. He probably won’t read that but its OK, I do tell him, every day. And intend to keep doing so even with all the books that are to come.

Thank you all of you who were there on the day, and those of you who couldn’t make it I still got your wonderful messages of love and support and it gave me a sense of accomplishment. Thank you all!

October 18, 2017 1

When I’m Breathing

‘So…. How many novels have you actually written?’ A work colleague asks.

‘Three of the novellas for my series, they’re pretty short, about 45k words. The novels though, are about 130k words, and I’ve done a couple of them as well. Plus I have two others about the 50k marks, they’re longer ones, and another book series I’m starting that’s at the 30k mark.’ Running the numbers of my current projects through my head tells me it’s still not enough.

He actually sits on those numbers for a moment before responding. ‘Wow. I can’t imagine sitting down to write fifty thousand words. Let alone 140!’

‘Yeah, it’s a lot, I’m pretty pleased with it.’ I’m not. It doesn’t seem like much at all, and there is still so much to do that isn’t about writing.

‘I don’t even know how you find the time to do that.’

And for a moment I don’t know how to respond.

Its unfathomable.

I can’t describe the ease it takes to find my place in a story, stick on the head phones and punch word after word hour after hour, forgetting the total as the story wraps itself around my thoughts. There is the greatest freedom feeling the wind on your face the sway under your feet as your imagination takes you further than the stars, to new worlds where the infinite is tangible. Dipping your hands into the waters of creativity and drinking deep, slacking a thirst you never knew you had.

Stirrings of ideas grow and flourish inside, and they come pouring out, a fountain of unstoppable colours, thoughts, and feelings, and unable to contain the flow you decant it down in words. It takes time but you pull them all together, string them like glass beads on the thinnest of strands until you make something whole. Something beautiful.

Telling someone what you have done, and the frequent congratulations that devolves into uncaring incomprehension. Their inability to see what you have created doesn’t matter so much, you just need to get better with your expression and design.

I think about them all the time, all of the stories, as I’m walking to the shops, talking to my pets, doing the laundry, working in the real world. They are my constant companions, the voices in the dark, they are my bravery, and telling them my deepest desire.

Reminding myself that this is just the beginning and there is still so much to come, as I bite my tongue against the mockery for spending so much time on something that isn’t real, as though vindication of my work’s value must come from someone who’s never read a book.

Those people add flaws to characters I have yet to create, and the first impressions of them only hint at what they will become in spite of those failings. Some I recognise in myself even as I describe completely different people, who hide themselves in the shadow of my stories. In other cases they are as clear as the glass windows of my car as I drive home, working out how they will face this chapter’s challenge.

I’m the antagonist wishing to leave the dinner table so I can plot my protagonist’s demise, knowing as soon as I sit down after a long day’s work I will have to slice open my soul and cut the pieces of emotion out I need to articulate this arc of my character’s journey. To put aside what I feel, from warmth and love to sink into despair and hopelessness of my character’s suffering. Or on darker days, to pull myself from this ravine of desperation and find the light of joy, giving it to the pages of my passion.

As I turn up the music and sink myself into the turmoil of indecision and uncertainty they face, I, as their creator, have no time to dither on such emotions, though they hover about me, as though a plague. I go to bed, tasting their sadness and unspoken words, unstoppable sorrow eating a hole in me my husband has no idea how to stop.

Maybe tomorrow we can watch a movie instead, except where am I supposed to find the time when I get up and continue the façade that I am here and a functioning member of society who’s perfectly normal. And I watch it go by from the inside grieving over the time I am not punching ideas into my phone’s reminder, writing down plot twists during my lunch break, pulling over by the side of the road when traffic is awful and crying while trying to remember an escaping facet of the narrative.

I’ve forgotten I needed to be somewhere this weekend, so I can’t edit that piece. I don’t have the funds to upgrade the website because I need to pay the credit card bill used for advertising. Somewhere in all this I need to find the headspace for myself, to take my estranged spouse out, to play some computer games with him. And then I berate myself that I shouldn’t have spent so much time on that when I forget the passing hours. Or avoid the guilt by stating I’m letting off steam, there has to be a moment I can let go. But if there is then I should use it to read for a while, except I feel disconnected as I critique the writing, or worse, suffer through anxiety I am not as good as this writer. Why am I trying?

The dread that I am as awful as that two star review I received, and I’m burning myself up on a fruitless endeavour, even when it’s the only thing that makes the harshness of life bearable. The stories surround me and some days I don’t know if they are strangling me or holding me together. When the loving words of my husband can’t crack through the shell of self doubt, even as he is screaming them at me, with the quietest of whispers, that one day I will make it.

‘I write a lot in my spare time.’ I answer my work colleague.

My spare time is when I’m breathing.

June 14, 2017 0

Chasing imaginary things

I’ve posted on twitter that I’ve joined the throngs of Pokemon players. I know, I know, don’t curse me now, hear me out.

I knew the game designers from playing Ingress, and I’d played and watched all the Pokemon games and anime. I was looking forward to what it would entail. Except what I didn’t see was the amount of negativity towards it.

You’ve seen the articles. “Girl finds body while playing Pokemon Go.” “Man kills brother over Pokemon.” I hate to be the one to tell you but the articles, most of them, are fake. I don’t know why the media is perpetrating fake news stories to make the general populace hate the game; but they are.

I’m not interested in why.

I’m interested in the overwhelming happy feeling a family had that I got to be a part of, because of Pokemon Go.

So I was walking in the early evening on my Pokemon Go route. It’s about 5 kms (perfect for eggs) and helps me think as I walk past a gym, two pokestops and a lake (oh yes, I love the magikarp!). And I’ve been playing the game since it came out, so I know what I’m doing.

But a car had pulled up near my pokestops and a couple with an eight year old girl were holding a phone and walking around.

I’ve become familiar with this scene; eyes on the phone, checking locations, moving as a group together. Pokemon players are recognising each other, and it’s with joy.

“Hi! Are you looking for Pokemon stops?” I called.

“Yes, we’re new, our daughter just sighted up an hour ago.” Says her father.

“Oh really? Well the other stop you are looking for is half way along the bridge.”

“Thank you!” The mother and daughter run off and the father stops me.

“So you play this game?”

“Yes, I’ve been playing since it came out about five weeks ago or so, I guess.”

“So you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes, I know the company. I liked the other game they made, Ingress, and I’ve played old school Pokemon and watched the anime series.”

There were more questions, how I liked it, what it was about, how many kilometers I’d walked (nearly a 100, over 5 every day at least).

“You walk around?”

“You have to, it’s part of the game. I walk five k’s every day at least to hatch eggs.”

“Hey honey!” He says to his returning wife and daughter. “This girl plays every day, and walks five kilometers, every day!”

“That’s so good! I need to do that.”

“It gets me away from the computer, I’m an avid gamer.” I explain.

“That’s so good, getting you out and about.”

It is.

That’s what’s good, but the people I’ve met and the stories I could tell you show you that the articles in the news about the game and being negative don’t tell you the other part of the story. The time a group of kids in my village green offered hot chocolate to pokemon trainers, and young kids and older players with their grandkids got hot chocolate and shared moments. About how a young woman was anxious about a pokemon and when I pointed her in the right direction she ran up and screamed I was her new best friend and I didn’t know how happy I’d made her by helping. I spend ten minutes explaining to an eight year old girl who was level one how it all worked.

The girl listened to my comments, wow’d at the pokemon I’d collected, and was delightful to talk to. And her parents stood behind her and asked questions too, engaged with me and the game that had gotten them all hooked. And so it was I said that if they are just starting out they needed to try the village green, as long as her parents were OK with it, but they were just smiling at me, happy for their daughter.

“Well that’s where we will go next!” The dad declared, and they thanked me and ran back to their car, taking off for the village green.

And afterwards, walking home, I was hopeful.

You see, I had received a fair amount of flack from colleagues and friends for my addiction, even my husband and he plays himself. Why was that?

My husband thought I was cute, but most others thought me crazy chasing imaginary things.

And it made me angry. Very angry.

I chase imaginary things every day. I get lost in them and then I write about them, but that wasn’t what had upset me. Being told what you want isn’t normal kills dreams.

People like this kill dreams every day; I can’t see what you see, and I don’t understand it, and therefore you shouldn’t have it.

And the part that hurts the most isn’t about a game that augments reality. People tell you you can’t really be an artist, a writer, a musician. They kill your dreams every day because they want you to be productive to society and fit in.

I’ve never sworn on my blog and I’m going to start now. Fuck fitting in. Fuck someone else’s version of normality and what they expect of me.

I want more parents like the one that little girl has, who followed her around and encouraged her in something that’s been sensationalised, they ignored the hype part and enjoyed being outside chasing their imagination. I’m for the ones chasing their imagination. I’m for the dreamers.

July 31, 2016 0