Weekly Writing Challenge: A Manner of Speaking

When desperately searching through my mind for something–anything!–to discuss in this weeks Daily Post Weekly Writing Challenge, I was surprised to find that the challenge finally gave me a challenge I could relate to; slang.

A common misconception the world has about Australians is that we’re “outback Aussies” who ride kangaroos and surf at practically every chance we get. Slang is something we are frequently associated with, though only a handful of people actually use it.

Sure, worldwide terms including ‘mate’, ‘buddy’ and ‘Aussie’ are heard every day, though more unique, Australian slang words are far and few. When they are used, I personally think that they are not necessary, and just add fuel to the fire which is the typical Australian stereotype. How we got the reputation of slang-speakers is beyond me.

Pompeii by Bastille

“How am I gonna be an optimist about this?”

The meaning behind the lyrics to Pompeii, one of my favourite songs at present, are debated, though really I think they’re just open to interpretation. It is not hard to gather that, literally, they refer to the ages-old volcanic eruption for which the city of Pompeii is known. It is the deeper meaning behind them which caught my attention.

I recently read that one person’s supposition for this song was that the whole thing is a metaphor. They believed that it represented a failing relationship, one which focuses on each others’ flaws and weaknesses. I do not disagree with this interpretation, I just think there’s more to it.

I believe Pompeii also refers to the terrible condition in which the world is in, whether it be the environment, or the injustice and inequality that can be seen everyday. For me personally, when I listen to these lyrics, my thoughts drift to the environment, and how it has suffered destruction and devastation.

One line in particular that reaches out to me is the line above, “How am I gonna be an optimist about this?” Honestly, sometimes it is hard to feel optimistic about these things. In a society where we are continually reminded of the issues in our world, I think that it can be easy to lose hope in these problems ever being solved.

I recognise that, amidst the majority of those who actually hear about the tragic goings-on in the world, only some wish to make a change. In my opinion, one of the greatest aspects of creating a noticeable difference is to first bring about awareness. It is only when we work together as a whole that we can make a difference, because it was together that we caused the problem.

Listen for yourself; understand it’s meaning however you may. If nothing stands out to you, then don’t worry: at least it’s a good song.

Short Story

This is a short story I’ve been scribbling down over the past few days, though it’s nothing serious. As it’s not very far along I’m still unsure of what to name it, possibly something along the lines of “Quake”, and so it remains untitled for the time being.

~~~

I looked down at my hands as they lay trembling upon my desk. Gasps sounded around me, pens and pencils skittering about the classroom. The windows began rattling in their frames, and I could feel the earth rocking beneath my feet. Sirens could be heard wailing in the distance.

“Settle down, students! It’s just an earth-” my teacher, Mrs Gardener, started, however she was soon cut off by the sounds of glass shattering and piercing screams nearby.

Voices, raised in panic, cried, “What’s happening? Why are they yelling? Earthquake!” Shrieks from neighbouring classrooms were only growing louder as the building continued to heave.

I jumped out of my seat, running to join those who were racing towards the doorway and slowly trickling into the main hall. There the bodies of hundreds were tightly packed to the point of claustrophobia. My senses were instantly assaulted as I entered the accumulated mass, the combined body odours and heat encasing me in a foul cloud.

Slowly; painstakingly, I pushed my way towards the front entrance of the school, weaving through the near invisible spaces hidden between the moving horde and the rows of lockers that lined the walls. Finally I squeezed past the remainder of the crowd and tumbled out the heavy wooden doors. All the while the earth underneath did not cease to quake.

Breathing heavily, dizzy from the toxic environment that was the building behind me, I stumbled down the few steep concrete steps and onto the front lawns of the campus. I had not yet looked up to see the gaping chasm which lurked dauntingly a few feet ahead.

~~~

I know it’s not very much, but I am still debating whether or not I will continue it. Any thoughts? If you liked it, please take a look at a few of the other short stories which I have posted, including New Life, Pounce and Rumour.

The Host (Review)

Like many thousands of people, I was amongst those whom, upon reading Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight Saga, fell instantly in love with the story and its characters. It was only fitting then, that once I’d read those books, The Host would be next in line.

Stephanie Meyer is a fantastic storyteller, whether you find interest in her novels or not. I have to admit, though, that the first few chapters of The Host were something to be endured, and I know others who have felt the same way. However, I was one of the readers determined to stick it out, not wanting to judge it before I had finished it all.

The story did pick up, as new characters and their lives were soon introduced. On a future Earth, the Souls–set to create peace on our hostile planet–have cast out the minds of millions, and claimed their bodies as their own: their hosts.

There are few human spirits who refuse to be conquered, fighting inside their own minds to stay alive. Together with the last pockets of resistance, those yet to be claimed by the Souls, Earth’s remaining inhabitants fight for their lost homes and people, wanting freedom once more.

Following the life of one particular Soul and her feisty human host, Melanie Stryder, The Host tells of the inner struggles between them, and their slowly growing friendship. Melanie leads the Soul, known as Wanda, on a wild trek into the desert in search of her lost uncle, hoping to be reunited with her brother, Jamie, and Jared, the man she loves.

Although enemies in the beginning, Melanie and Wanda’s trust and confidence in one another grows as they live amongst the human colony inside the hidden lava tunnels. Wanda is slowly accepted into their community, although her plight still remains far from over.

Now battling her own feelings for the kind and gentle Ian, and Melanie’s bone-deep love for Jared, Wanda is at a loss for what to do, and after having her faith shattered in the human’s, is desperate for a way out. In the end, she is forced to make the decision to either stay with the humans, abandoning her own race, or return to the Souls, betraying the humans and all she has come to love.

I read The Host several times over, the captivating characters drawing me in time and time again. The sophisticated charisma and traits of each individual was spectacular, and my only complaint is that there is no sequel.

Book rating: 5/5

Now I couldn’t be happier that The Host has been made into a movie, which I saw the night of its release. Normally skeptical about film adaptations, this is one exception I am more than delighted to make.

For those who are not interested in reading the book, I completely understand, however I do recommend you view the movie. Yes, it leaves out various scenes from the book, for those who have read it, but what the producers and directors have included could not be more perfect!

The cast has been chosen superbly, matching the descriptions of the book, and taking on the roles brilliantly. The Host included its fair share of action, though it was also romantic and didn’t fail to make you laugh. At several points it left you teary, and was finished with a heart-warming ending.

Movie rating: 5/5

And so I say to anyone who has not experienced any part of Stephanie Meyer’s The Host, I highly recommend you look it up, especially anyone who liked this author’s other work. Both the movie and the novel are simply remarkable, so don’t hesitate to get into it!

New Life – Short Story

This is another short story which I wrote towards the end of last year. It was originally for a school writing competition, though I never got around to entering it. The competition was to write a piece based on one of three pictures, this story coming from the picture below. To be honest, I didn’t think much of it at the time, and I’m still not sure if I like it or not.

~~~

I sigh, turning away from my bedroom window. It’s a beautiful day; all blue skies and sparkling waters. With not a cloud in sight, the sun shines brilliantly down on the surrounding seas, the lightly sloshing waves sweeping right in to shore.

But I can’t stand it.

Flinging myself onto my bed, I look at the heavy drapes hanging from their posts. I’ve had enough of this place, of its beauty; wonderfully spectacular, yet so malicious, surrounding me in a person jail. Sure, my house is nice enough, but would you trade a plain old house for the chance to live a normal life, like every other fourteen year old gets to live?

I suppose I should call this place a home. A place to come back to in my worst times, to a family who loves me, who feeds me and cares for me. The only problem here is, I won’t be coming back.

I have planned this day for a long time, slowly working up the courage and creating a plan, though in truth I can tell you that this was just my subconscious stalling me. But no longer. Starting now, I reach under my bed, taking out the thick coil of rope hidden carefully out of sight. The next part is harder.

Quietly, for I desperately do not want to be caught out, I sneak down the stairs, through the hallway and into the downstairs office. Closing the door softly behind me, I dash to the window, opening it as wide as it will give without breaking the latches.

Then I climb out. Simple as that. Or so I thought. That’s when the rope comes into play. I chose the office specifically for the slight outcropping of rock beside the window; a jagged point perfect for tying my rope around, which I hurry to do.

When its length swings close to the waterline, I take a deep breath before scrambling out, groping at the rope and rocks for dear life. Our little island, which is truly just a pillar of freestanding rock broken off from an area where the ocean has eroded a cliff, has quite a steep decline.

Slowly I slide down, keeping my feet against the rock face, until the water rises up to meet me. Knowing I cannot turn back now, I let go of the rope, splashing down into the warm, welcoming water below.

As I swam towards the shore, no thoughts of turning back to my house upon the island clouded my judgement. The only thing circling through my mind was the fact that my life had finally, finally begun.

Runner by Robert Newton

Goodreads cover.

Rating 4.5/5

This year my school finally made the brilliant decision to include the book Runner, by Robert Newton, into our English curriculum. Over the holidays our task was to read through the book once, before we began studying it.

Being the avid reader I am, I picked it up one morning and was through it before I had time to put it down. Runner had captured my attention from start to end, and I recommend it to more mature teenagers who are looking for some easy reading.

Set in Melbourne and its inner suburbs in the year 1919, Runner tells the story of the now fatherless Charlie, who has given up school to support his family. After winning the place of a courier for the infamous gangster, Squizzy Taylor, Charlie is loving life, earning a decent amount and slowly putting the pieces of his broken family back together.

Despite his mother’s wishes, Charlie continues to run Squizzy’s errands, though when he starts to realise what he has truly signed up for, Charlie is no longer so sure of himself. He still loves to run, and his family is ever in need, but is that enough to reconcile for the deeds he witnesses, and even takes part in?

Overall a great read, intriguing and easy to follow. If you’re lost for things to do on a rainy day, try picking up Runner, and you may just be surprised.

DPChallenge: Mind the Gap

Although I am not going to write a huge amount on this subject, I still wanted to put forth my opinion on the question posed in the Weekly Writing Challenge. Personally, I will go with a paperback/hardback every time over a newly-popular eBook.

Why? Simply because I would rather a good book to a paper-thin, electronic reader,  which can run out of battery in the blink of an eye. Yes, it may tell you how many pages the eBook contains, but what is that compared to judging first hand the size of a novel, compared to that satisfied feeling of visible progress being made as you make your way through a book?

Paperbacks and hardbacks have been around hundreds of years, and already with the competition of the internet are struggling to get by. There’s nothing better than searching around a good bookshop, or waiting impatiently for the book you ordered online to arrive.

At the end of the day, nothing beats a growing pile of books on your desk, or the small library of your bookshelf. I will be a book lover for the rest of my life.

Pounce-Short Story

He could see her. Running through the forest of Birches, their leaves tinged with the colours of autumn, her long golden was hair flailing out behind her, twisting into shimmering rivers with every gust of wind that blew through the valley. She was beautiful.

Over the rustle of leaves he could hear her tinkling laugh as she waltzed to and fro. Careful not to disturb her, he inched forward in his cover of shrubs, longing for her scent to be blown his way.

She was almost to the clearing now; an oval shaped gap between the trees. Reaching a spot any normal human would finally be able to spot her. But his sharp, keen eyesight had noticed her the moment she had skipped into the trees, some two or so hundred metres away.

With a shower of Birch leaves, the wind picked up, carrying with it her delicate scent. He sighed as he inhaled the sweet scent of honey and lavender, with a subtle hint of oranges.

He could restrain himself no longer. Her small figure had finally entered the clearing which he lay at the edge of. She was sitting down now, and he could see her pale blue dress skirt spread out around her. She hadn’t noticed him.

Ducking out from behind the shrubbery, he slipped neatly behind the nearest tree, blending in perfectly with the shadows cast by the now descending sun. Then, faster than any human or animal, he glided over to a tree halfway around the clearing, looking over to see that again she hadn’t noticed his approach.

Planning his next move, he once more slid into the shadow of a tree this time directly behind the unsuspecting beauty without a sound.  She was facing away from him, her golden tresses cascading down her back. It was the perfect position; she would have little time to scream, let alone react, to his oncoming attack.

Standing as still as a statue, he waited for the right moment, and when a powerful blast of wind blew through the valley once more, rustling the grass and shrubbery, stripping trees of their leaves, he approached his target.

Soundlessly, he stalked towards the back of the girl, crouching down to ready himself for the pounce.  Before any human would have time to stop him; get in his way or otherwise, he sprung forwards, arms outstretched, hands clawed, aiming straight for the collar.

The moment of impact never came. Mid-leap the seemingly innocent girl had ducked to the side, snatching up a small, wooden dagger from inside one of her dainty boots. No time to move, no time to yell, she spun on her heel, coming up from behind and driving the blade straight through his heart.

Clutching at his chest, the vampire fell to his knees, hitting the ground with an unpleasant smack. Pulling out the now blood encrusted dagger, she slipped it neatly into her boot once more, skipping back through the trees the way she had come.

~~~

I found this short story just before, when I was just about to begin a new story. I wrote this quite a while ago, but with a few small touches thought it a good piece to post.

What do you think about it?

Rumour

She stumbled across it one night. Sitting all by herself in a dark corner of the school library, Carly continued her long and seemingly impossible search through the thick tomes piled neatly to one side of the table.

Flipping the page, Carly scanned the faded print, a few words standing out. Concentrating, she analysed the passages of interest, making sure what she was seeing was really what it appeared to be. She had finally found what she was looking for! Smiling, she stood up, dust flying as she hurriedly clamped the book shut.

With the heavy tome under one arm, she scooped up her notes and scurried from the great hall, creeping through the school building until she arrived at her dorm. May, her roommate, was staying with her aunt for the summer break. Carly didn’t need to worry about keeping quiet as she closed the door behind her and dumped her findings on the floor.

Spreading out her work, Carly once again flipped through the book until she came to what she had been searching for. She sat back, a grin spreading across her face.

She had found it! Truly found it! Since the very beginning of the summer holidays, Carly had been searching day and night through an endless pile of ancient manuscripts and journals, looking for the answer to her questions. And now there it lay, right before her eyes.

The legend of the Blackwood Sorority had been passed from generation to generation of college boarders, though almost all laughed off the notion, because who would believe the rumours of a secret sorority foundered a hundred years back? Carly had.

And so when the majority of students left for their summer vacations with family and friends, Carly had set to work, seeking out any and every glimpse of information she could find on the topic, aside from what was already common knowledge.  She dared not look whilst the other students remained.

Her excitement grew as she read and re-read the few passages. Even though it was nearly midnight, when Carly would usually pause her searching for the night and fall into an exhausted sleep, she could not tear her eyes from the worn pages.

Glancing at the clock radio on her desk, Carly sighed. The earlier she slept now, the longer she would have to study the writing the next day, when she had time to sort through what it all meant, and had a head clear of fatigue and excitement.

Tucking the thick volume into the bottom drawer of her desk, she switched off the glowing beside lamp and tucked herself into bed, not bothering to change her clothes.  With thoughts of mysterious rituals and hidden chambers, Carly fell into a restless sleep.

~~~

Another short story. What are your thoughts?

Book Review: Touch of Power

Who is worth the greatest sacrifice? Who is worth a journey of hardship, loss and pain? Who is worth your life?

Avry of Kazan, the leading character in Maria V. Snyder’s Touch of Power, is the only healer to survive the devastating aftermath of the plague which wiped out nearly two thirds of the population. With a bounty on her head, and her healing powers in huge demand, Avry alone faces the heart wrenching decision as to whom she will sacrifice her life for. Now that she has something worth living for again, Avry’s choice is all the more difficult to make.

Touch of Power is a tension filled, young adult novel, with mystery and budding romances around every corner. Published in 2012, the author tells a tale of struggle and desperation, and explores the inward battle to determine who is worth trusting, and who is worth the ultimate sacrifice.

In a land formerly segmented into provinces known as The Fifteen Realms, Touch of Power follows Avry’s journey to save a plague-stricken prince. The only problem is, Avry’s decision to heal the prince is not her own, but has been predetermined for her by Kerrick, the brooding leader of a small group of rebels who ‘saved’ her from execution.

From previous experience with the sick Prince Ryne, Avry’s opinion of him is low to say the least. However, as her journey continues, and Kerrick’s patience wears thin, Avry learns of hidden truths which have been buried for years. Now her future actions may not only influence the fate of the prince, but that of all the fifteen realms.

I found this book to be beautifully written and easy to read. With every chapter I became more and more interested in the characters and their stories, and the suspense at stages kept me alert and hurrying to read the next page.

By the end I was relieved that the sequel was there and ready for me to get stuck into, as it is a truly alluring book. The ending went along perfectly, and could not have been put better, but at the same time it left you wanting more and craving to read Scent of Magic.

I strongly recommend Touch of Power to anyone who loves a good fantasy/romance, and is up for something wonderfully unique and well written. If you’re a frequent reader of fiction you will definitely fall in love with this book and it’s intriguing characters. However, if you read very little, Touch of Power may turn you into a bookworm yet.