I Broke the Eggshell...and a world leaked out...of mountains and streams...and a City made of Leaves...

 

 

   Stripped to the waist

We fall into the river

Cover your eyes

So you don't know the secret

I've been trying to hide

We held our breath

To see our names are written

On the wreck of '86

That was the year

I knew the panic was over
Yes since we found out

Since we found out

That anything could happen

   Heeere's Johnny!


    I have returned from the depths...with lies and dasterdly dreams to give away, be quick dear friends...because I seem to only have a handful or so of them up for offer.

    It's been a while hasn't it? My internet has been commiting suicide for a while and [almost thankfully], I have ten times more ideas and newbies to show to you because I haven't been able to Blog for so long...
    Of that, I FINALLY recieved my new Ideal Typewriter, all the way from Ger-maa-nyy! It's fabulous darlings, and is about as heavy as a frickin boulder hehe. I finally got it to work after a few days, and it was like...a foreign, manic-energy took over me as I began to type. You see, you really have to bang the keys down to get the ink to work clearly, and they're hard keys. So it's this constant racket of noise that ends with many tiny bruises on the tips of my fingers and I just....love it. If I didn't have work and there was no one around, I'd just type for a whole day without stopping, it just has this hold over me. It's euphoric almost. :]

   Problem seems to be...that I really don't know what to type on it. At the moment I'm practising with all my various poems and short stories, but one day I want to type up one of my novels...even the, ahm, mystery one I keep mentioning is in the works. But, it's almost as though it doesn't matter what I type, just as long as I can. :]

 

   It's also as though a path of light is expanding around me in my life. Hey...old Mr. White n S is still lurking about along with fate and the rest of my shadows, [and the jinxing], but with a lot of things...it's like I can see the road ahead, but really, who can tell what's in store for us [obviously Scar...]but...my point is, finally there feels to be more light in my life.

  This has sorta all led from the fact that lately, I've become perhaps less scared of the world beginning to end on December 21st and more concerned about what may or may not be happening in five or so years time. There's a lot of word going around that there's going to be some major lackings of resources around then in the future, and I really do believe that at some point things are going to get bad in my and any future kids I have lifetime. It worried me but...slowly a way out has been forming for a lot of people I care about, and me.

  And dear friends, I know it's gonna kill you for me to say what I'm about to say, but I can't really tell you what exactly that way out is. We need to be careful...and even moreso...to wake up.

 

   What you may ask, do I mean by that?

 

   Just, if you would, think about it for a moment. Doesn't it feel, or rather, I can't be the only one who feels like I'm just walking through a dream in life, pushing out the daily work-and-play-grind and paving out a life here...

  

   It's like if you drive past a row of houses and glance inside...around 5pm, and each family or person [or most families], are just sitting and watching TV. We get up, and all go to work...whatever that time might be. Come home, drink or do whatever to try and unwind and...it's like being robots surely.
  I'm mainly worried that one day, something will happen and we'll all just be so deep in our sleep-zommbie routines and lives that it will near blow out our hearts and minds. Maybe we need that...or maybe we should try and start waking up.

  :] Don't mean to be all doom-and-gloom, especially on one of my first Blog entries in a month or so, but I just wanted to write down where my mind is lately. I have plenty of ideas for this coming time [if it happens], and I think I finally feel more hope, as strange as that sounds.

    Ah and on lighter notes (and with my mention to the path of light up above), I believe another item on my end-of-world list may be close to being crossed off. I think...I may be experiencing a love, of a sort...or rather an innocence of heart, for the first time in a long time. Ahm, I may or may not...have become quite close to someone lately, and it makes me feel...argh, like even more hope, if that's possible, hehe.

    So I spend my time, riding a shabby old red bike around the wide, sunshiny streets of where I live, dreaming of fishing at the river nearby, and being thrilled for the future, and my current routine.

    Of that, I have decided at long last to change the location of where Cara lives in my novel at the beginning. It's in Coombabah, Queensland. Why, you may ask, is that so? Well...for ages I've always had the image of where she lives floating around in my head...wide, sunny streets and a place relatively close to the ocean. Turns out, that is exactly the place I have now moved to. Creepy, huh?

  Ahm, enough coincidences? My real name being somewhat similar to hers, my street being the same as hers, and...well it's getting closer to the date the novel starts with. 2013...lol.

  On a last note, dear friends...I have some fantabulous news. That is, in a few years time...I am planning to go all the way over to San Francisco, to attend The Night of Writing Dangerously Write-A-Thon. It's a single night where everyone comes in costumes, there's an open bar, food, it's in a ballroom and it runs from like 6 till midnight almost. A whole evening of crazy writing, and there's so many prizes available and...my gosh it has become the pinpoint of my future, so, ahm...world, please don't damn-well end before then please...

   Here's a link to the information page on it, if you are - like me - a writer who is very, very curious:

    http://nanowrimo.org/en/writeathon

     I will lastly leave you with this music video of a song that's been drifting around my head for the last couple of days...'Anything Could Happen' by Ellie Goulding.

     Much love, and the promise of Blogging more soon....

     Miss CLScarlett xx

    

P.S. If you're looking for a gorgeous read, try Metro Winds by Isobelle Carmody...



The Tree that Grew One Thousand Wings...and, a message from the Sinister Meeting Room...humhumhum

   A quiet road slips into your view...

the trees - their corners - bending down about you,

You forget about the light of day,

as you Turn your back on the meadows and quays...

A sinister tune joins you in your walk,

As the hedges edge closer,

and the Clocks begin to talk,

Fleeting images blur between trees,

and silence is your newly-wed,

A dream, a dream, a bee...

Cloudy moons chase cloudy stars,

and the Fog it drifts...

between the crevices of my mind,

Alice in wonderland,

has divided the two...

and a lined mirror I glance through.

 

 The Sinister Meeting Room calls...

 

 

 

    I can stand as a relatively well-known demon the days where it's all like a shadow weighing me down and blocking out the sun, or the other few days when I just feel great and that life is smiling down at me. But what I can do without is the listless and lukewarm days: the way I felt today in fact. Where it's just an agitated, bored, angry, nothing swirl in my head.

 

    Just give me anything strong to feel...or where there is just a calm, smiling docileness in my mind. 

 

    If you can remember...I referred once to the world and life being like a Chinese puzzle box - and really, this theory has only grown in conviction inside of me as time goes byy - but at the moment, I can feel my place in the puzzle box shifting...and boy it hurts at times. I can sense [like ominous and friendly shadows], both fate and the Brilliance leaning over my shoulders most of the time, one showing me in subtle ways that things really are turning good and far, far better: even if it doesn't feel that way.

   Whereas fate's still there to play the fiddle on my strings and oftentimes set them on fire for his pleasure...but I am grateful.

 

   The fact is [as we all know], change isn't comfortable, and it has threatened me, but I can see the light - as it were - and I'm starting to get excited.

    Mainly, it's with my entire family...all our lives are shifting and taking on a whole new stage. I'm moving house, starting a different position (or really, a more full-time position), at my new job, the possibilities with my writing are opening up way more, and there's a whole bunch more things.

  But life is cruisy...ish. :]

 

  I also FINALLY received (no...not my typewriter yet heehee), but 250 business cards that are designed with my persona C.L.Scarlett in mind. Advertising my writing and pastry work. Whenever I manage to bring myself to actually charge my camera, I'll take a photo of them and put them up here...so, keep an eye out!

 

 

 

These days are grey days Watson...

Cherry days...

and we'll never be that far from them.

 

Ah!!

 

In honour of ludicrous and all things insane in the membrane...

the Sinister Meeting Room has a small mite

of a message for YOU...

Dear reader...

 

If you are in the dark,

about one thing or another...

then listen close and listen hard

There is a new dilemma,

to attend to today,

but before we can continue,

we must fix your own alms,

Stay calm and hum...

Eventually, in an hour or so,

If you keep in the know...

the answer should arise,

But...

indeed

the Cause for this message is clear to me,

We must all venture back,

Down the paths of our mind,

and through the forest one more time,

Ignore the talking clocks,

they won't be of any use to you...

and instead focus on the tree ahead,

Upon it will hang,

approximately one million wings,

and it is your duty,

To pick the RIGHT one...

doing otherwise will result in a badly burnt heart,

yet the right one indeed,

will enable you to soar like a god,

Take to the air and fly straight East,

then turn ever so slightly and head to the west...

There you should find a solitary mirror,

Upon the crest of a Hill,

Land if you please,

and Look deep inside,

What you will see,

determines what will be...

Depending on what that happens to be,

a door shall reveal...

and step through please!

A room should be there

all splattered in gold and you should be able to hear...

a merry old tune,

Go straight right and then straight left,

and turn around twice,

Don't forget the rice!

 

This is the message dear old friends...

the most important thing in life is to laugh yourself dead...

or else if that be,

Too unsavoury for you...

Give back your wings,

and you can well start anew,

For the only way to keep them is to give up yourself,

and Murder your own reflection,

so as to see yourself.

 

Only then can you embrace...

all that is waiting for you.

 

This has been the Sinister Meeting Room, and listen eagerly for the call.

 

 

 



 

   Much Love and Adore, dear ones,

 

   Miss CLScarlett xx

    

 

 

 

 

 



 



 

A Prodesgant Way of Being Blue...

 

  Maybe I'll change my hair to blue...or scarlett red...

Maybe I'll get another tattoo...

you know, this is my tag-line on Deviantart:

 

Red Emperor. Homeland of Coral, Rain and wind. Summer Monkey. Prisoner to the typewriter. My skin smells of sugar and my oven's always warm. I remember the light, so as to not forget that the darkness is only a demon I know...and one day he will be gone. 

 

 So true...

 

You know, I have issues [well that much was already certain heehee], with the idea that shyness means being terrified or unconfident.

 

   It is in ways...but say, for me...I often just don't speak [because I usually say stupid shit when I speak, and get into messes], and I don't always like confrontation true, I don't like people to be unhappy but...doesn't mean I don't have confidence in myself. But...this isn't about me. It's a type of strength in some ways. Listening, watching...I am the guardian...and I'd rather be the one advising and listening from behind the throne than the one on the throne itself.

 

   How messed up is it that I like the idea of a shapeshifting manipulator? That it attracts me. Well...each to their own.

 

   :]

 

    I've also realized that I don't care if the process leading up to my books being published takes years. I want to do this properly, and to go the hard yards. I'm happy to...and as insane as it is, I'll keep at it.

 

  

 

Do you like it? I can envision C.L.Scarlett typing away stories to change and destroy people on this. It's being mailed to me as I speak...and I'm already in love with it.

 

Can I give you a few strange facts about myself?

 

- I could once understand birds.

- I have written 7 1/2 books including ten illustrated documentaries out of twelve of a group of fictional islands.

- I spent a year completing a mural on my bedroom wall.

- I am jinxed.

- Sometimes, I hate myself as much as I love myself...

 

Anyway, enough rubbish about me...and can I be completely honest and say that the whole idea of this Blog was that I really did want to hear from other people I know?

 

I don't care if you only know me through facebook...I just really want to hear your opinion and ideas about everything...as it is, I feel that I'm just talking to myself here. :]

 

Also, of my list of things completed before 'the end of the world', I've gone to the beach more, lost more weight and I'm writing much better.

 

Doesn't matter really.

 

I'll leave you with a small pleasure...and love...

 

 

 

If you want to know what I'm really all about, watch the music video of The Truth by Pnau.

If you've watched it, you'll know what I mean by the scorpian-guy, and that when I tell you that my Sodom is a mix between him and the white Elf prince from Hellboy II: Golden Army, it's true.

 

Also, in case I have never explained who he is fully or if you're new to this Blog, the guy I refer to as Sodom, is this:

 

He is tall, very heavy-set shoulders, [and yes, a six-pack, as cliche as that sounds], white skin, white eyes, white long hair, wears white Arab pants and no shirt but a calf-length white cloak-coat. He is my confidante and tormentor, comforter, teaser...a shape shifter, a demon, a human, inhuman,.

He is Mr. White n S, and many other things.

 

How is it that I trust him more than any other?

 

But he's the closest to my mind, and [ a secret], the more I go through my life lately, the more I realize that the difference between the Cara from my series and myself, is a lot smaller than I believed.

 

But...I love my life at the moment, and as odd as it sounds, I sooo, love the simple process of typing words onto the computer. :]

Anything simple.

 



 

…she held the box up to her ear and shook it gently from side to side, listening for a tell-tale rattle or clink. But instead, she was amazed to hear the tiniest of sounds, so distant and strange that whenever she tried to think of it later, it was almost impossible to remember. The closest she could get was to imagine a waterfall of stars tumbling through space, each one splashing silver notes into the darkness…

 

Steve Voake - The Starlight Conspiracy

 

¯

 

Its’ song came to me in the deepest of nights,

with the softest of tunes - it spoke to me of eternity, of starlit, lavender nights and oceans filled with planets…

Its’ eyes saw the depths of all knowledge,

the depth of each heart - each waking moment…

Cool waters tumbled as chimes through a million mirrors into my ears - its’ dark coolness lighting up an unseen path…

Beads of water, shining like the sun, streaked through the sky - the object dancing and filling my mind with its’ soft, caressing notes of insence devine…

Taking me into a world of colours as I gazed upon it…

…the most beautiful object in the world.

 

Cara Lee Scarlett - The Most Beautiful Object in the World.

 

Captive...these are two poems, one I wrote, inspired the other and both a love of mine. Listen to Enigma, if you want epic music...

 

Much Love,

 

Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 

 

 

Sweet Dwarka...

I have boarded the sailing ship,

a Hop-skip and a Jump away,

at the Edge of that ocean,

that is always in my dreams,

I have gone to the place far east from the west,

Where I have a new name and no tale,

We are children built for stories,

and we have fabricated our world,

Using them as our bricks,

We were made for new seas,

and new mountains and lagoons,

and I have turned my back on everything...

to follow them now,

Glance for me in the 3.30 cool

and the amber shadows, I will dwell...

Peace of heart,

Peace of mind,

If you wish to call me,

 look for the red phone upon the highest hill...

I am in-between worlds now,

and their embrace is cooling,

I have unchained myself,

from the cold hands of time,

and now I lie...in a familiar place,

A home...

Where the streets are pale,

and the city has walls,

the waves' crashing follows you

wherever you go,

and you are reserved a place,

from before you knew you were looking...

and it is a guilded life you have given up,

exchanged for a heart.

 

...7 million palaces of gold,

On sweet Dwarkanoth by the sea,

Make your quest by its' way,

Until you find me...

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

Sometimes the stars seem to fall around me...and sometimes I think that I'm the one tearing them from the skyy.

 

 

 

   Talk next time cherubs,

 

    Miss CLScarlett xx

The Sewn Dial and the Ace of Optional Spades...

       Hi darlings,

       Miss Scarlett here...

       I have so badly missed writing these Blogs and I know it's not very enticing...me deciding to write my entries only once every week or perhaps twice.
       Not consistent enough to keep you, heyyy?

       :]

        There are reasons. Mainly it's that by the time I get home from work at sweet Seaworld Resort it's almost 11:30 at night. I've learnt that every moment, I need to savour. The smallest things and joys such as sunlight and watching goats eat gives me tremendous joy because every day almost is just go-go-go for me now.
       I don't mind really...and for perhaps some strange sick reason I enjoy all that stress and emotion-boiling work. It certainly gives me more inspiration when I do get to write and...yes, makes me appreciate everything more: and not think about all the scary-deep-dark shit I usually do.
 
       I have to say though that despite what I expected, even though I am unable to spend whole days trying to write, my writing habits have improved. I know now that I am truly a writer and that it is my true vocation and what I want to be remembered as. This is the mark I want to make on the world: and I'm willing to get there however I can.

       Every spare moment I have in the day and night I'm writing or working over my stories...I probably should be getting more sleep - and as it is I feel like a zombie mostly all of the time harhar - but I need as much time as possible. But it's shown me that I do care about this whole lifestyle.

     As well as this I've printed the first copy of my re-written first novel and I have asked my Dad and my brother to go over it: and myself. Then I will get it professionally edited and proofread and then start the slow process of submitting it to publishers and agents.

     This will work.

    I even ordered 250 business cards that advertise my writing and Pastry work under my pseudo name: C.L.Scarlett

   This comes along...with their own engraved holding case heehee.


   I've been thinking lately that...there are so many stories that I wished that I could have written. Alice in Wonderland is definitely one of them...and I'd be honoured even to know D.J. MacHale!
  But I once read somewhere that there are two kinds of writers...

    I can't recall the exact terms that were used, but the basics of it was that the first type writes with the aim of earning money off their work, being famous, having all the glitz and glamour and all the rest that comes along with that. (Sounds fabulous no?)
   The second is the more traditional kind: the sort of person who turns their nose up at any advice, and who will slave away at their typewriter or computer, forgetting to eat or do anything else...and they don't so much care for the publicity in any way...more it's the writing itself that is their oxygen.

 
    Sounds like two sides to the same coin right? Which are you...which am I? Heehee...I think in the end it doesn't matter, and that the only point to the matter is that as long as you need to write in some way, and your work is good (aka, others have said so...or you know it, in honesty), then you're a writer. I've found though that regarding the two types above, I tended to lean towards the first (even though the second was more romantically fixed in my head), in that I want my name to be known and for people to be delighted by my work...for it to be an enjoyable read.
   However, because of that I kinda struggled with getting myself to write when I wasn't being paid for it. (I know, low hey?) It was merely a twinge-thing, but...I began (probably when I decided to re-write my series' books), that I needed to write without worrying about the fame or fortune or whatever, but to just write anyway even if sometimes there seems no point to it.

   Really though, I think there's always a point to it. :]

   I believe this so much now...and especially, it's surprising myself how much I really want to get to the stage where my book is being distributed across the world and I have a properly published hard copy of it in my hand...or paperback. You see I have begun the tentatively mind-destroying-stage of compiling a list of publishers and agents across the world that publish in my genre (which is Sci-Fi, Fantasy, novella), as well as writing down all the information on their submission requirements. There's sixty-one publishers I have to get through, that's how insane the list is!

   If you think I'm insane for going about such a long venture well...maybe I am, but I really do want to do this, and I'd rather go the long-miles than have a quick-fix. I want it all to take me a while, and to complete this properly.

   Ah! And in honour of enhancing my writing and mindset, I have purchased a rose coloured Elegant Typewriter. It's a fabulous looking thing, and I'll post a photo of it on here when I receive it.
   Maybe it is old-class, and I don't even see how it will be practical when it's so much easier to write on the computer. But...I'm a glutz for traditions and romanticism, and honestly :] , when I was looking at all the typewriters for sale, it was interesting.
   There were sorts that were huge and black and monstrous...I could easily see Stephen King writing one of his novels on them...their incessant clacking burrowing away into the late hours of the night. :] A cigarette dangling from his lip. For a small instance that attracted me (and hey, I haven't decided against the idea of actually buying smokes just so I can puff away as I write.
   But instead...I kept thinking...I need something that's me or rather, Scarlett. So I found this typewriter, and I can imagine myself typing stories on it. So...I'll figure out something. :]

    Here's the insane and rather irrational dream I have though, in regards to my writing:

   Perhaps have a casual day job (very casual), that earns me money but that most of my money is earned through my writing. I would live in a small, relatively basic place by the sea, (I don't care how rustic...in fact, the more the better), and I'd live a simple life with a cat or two and my typewriter...(and laptop of course), typing away my days, smoking an exotic cigarette or two and with a bottle of writers  prerogative. Yess...maybe one day...somewhere.

   But for now I'll live the life I'm living, and really...it isn't all that bad heehee. :]


  I'll end this Blog and let you go back to your normal lives, but I'll leave you with this relatively small thing.........

    Creaking...

They softly waver,

and the creaking grows louder

 

I was sitting alone in my house one night when an apparition caught my eye,

I had been reading the story of Jekyll and Hyde,

with a cup of Moon-Tea to devour,

I looked up from the words,

that crawled and scrawled like spiders,

and glanced over at the turn,

between both corridors near the urn,

Emptiness devoid met my eyes,

yet still the noises rose,

Until it was all I could hear,

and so indeed I leaped to my feet and inclined my ear,

Hoping to disbelieve...

Yet worry not,

though I had forgot,

to glance in the other direction as well,

and presently so...and you ought to know,

that I turned at once and froze,

Upon a most peculiar sight,

that filled me with strange delight...

The floor stretched before me,

shining its' odd wooden glow,

and from between the tightly wound floor-boards,

Something appeared to grow...

They crept up between the latticework

and miles and miles of dirt,

to hatch into the air with slender blue stems,

and bursting crowns of blood-rose red,

A hundred creeping vines,

Hatching from the woodwork,

Until my feet were covered in petals,

and silent I was...I had become,

at this Heavenly invasion of floral ones.

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

I will try and write again soon,

 

Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 

 

  P.S. Mr. White n S seems to have temporarily gone on leave from my life...at times a shame, though sometimes he will still whisper to me. However he seems to be keeping very quiet. [Too quiet...]

 

   Yess...too quiet Scar...

 

     dear dear, tut tut...

 





 

A Window into the Chinese Puzzle Box......and a rather odd Hippo sporting a madonna wig. Hmm...

 

Do you know what hungrythirsty is? No. Are you stupid?
My brother is, he’s in a basement.
Hungrythirsty is when you are neither hungry or thirsty
but a bit of both.
And there is only one cure for hungrythirsty and that’s Oak.
With its full strength and full taste it’s full on!
Evening.
I wish I’d fed my son Oak when he was growing up.
Just kidding, I don’t have a son.
Well technically I do, but he’s in real estate. 

 

 

             Yess I had to do it you know...this whole thing has been sending me loco for the last week or so, and surely I can't be the only person who's going round to every store they can find and asking if they have Oak. Heehee...eventually I'll find it, as it is...it seems to be eluding me no matter how hard I hunt for it. XD

 

 

             Last night, a door to Eternity opened up to me. I call it that, without perhaps meaning anything too spiritual...more, that it was like my mind exploded with ideas. There were hundreds, and so many beautiful flashes of inspiration that even if I had of had a notebook I don't think I would have been fast enough to record them all down. It was almost euphoric and made me think that this is the way we were designed to be and to think.

             Rather than just having elevator music or the occasional doom and gloom notion in my mind and somewhat shabby new ideas squeeze out from the edge of the doors' frame...instead, the door flies open and there's no stopping any of them.

 



 

                  Throughout the day I had so so many revelations. Part of it was re-reading this book I love called The Raw Shark Texts Steven Hall. He seems to write on the edge of insanity too with brilliant theories and ways of putting his words and I've realized that he came across the same idea as me or perhaps vice versa. Either way, we both have a similar theory but they have different faces.

His theory is that (or at least in the story, but I believe it's true of real life) every idea and fragment of information and text and media is like a waterway that flows between everyone and everything...that it is so complex a network and things grow in it: life.

 

         We are all connected...we are made of the same matter as everything else, but while he sees it as a waterway of rivers and lakes and streams and even oceans, I see it as a jigsaw or a Chinese puzzle box. Both make sense to me, but if you would, dear friends, consider my theory:

 

     Our lives interconnect in the smallest and sometimes biggest ways and like a puzzle we all have our small tiny place that fits into the millions of other interlacing and overlapping lives or peices of others we meet and hear about and know. The only way we succeed in life is (like a puzzle box), pressing the right pressure points and opening the right doors...sliding the right peices in the right way to make something extraordinary happen: whether it be achieving our goals or dreams or love. Sometimes the puzzle box moves us about of its' own accord, and we can't always control it.

 

                As cliche as it sounds, I want my writing to be like stars shining out to people from the book page when they read it. That's really a lot of what I want...to be able to leave an impact on the world when I leave it by my books and whatever else I can.

I want to be able to earn off my writing and to be remembered...perhaps even see my stories turned into a movie.

 

              My only problem now...is deciding who or what I should dedicate my first novel to, and really start to edit it. I'm also wondering if it's such a good idea to have 'To be continued' at the end but in Latin...as well as a word for eternity that I decided was a real word:

 

Lat Aterna

 

I will leave you with this small peice of advice and fun most dearly dear friends...heeheehee:

 

S

  S

  S

S

S

 S

    S

     S

S

S

S

S

  S

   Szz

  szzzzzzz

 

 

               Fall asleep now, turn around once...chant lot's of rice and lift your hands thrice because the Sinister Meeting Room calls.

 

We need your presence we need your fun and best of all we need your gum,

we beg of you every night and day oh won't you transcribe to our delicious herasayyy

So inscribe our tattoos upon your skin and make a pact to fear the dead,

We will care for you if you will care for us,

and the most well-earned fact is that you can never leave, so earn our trust...

                    If you wish to answer our call and truly become a membere, dialle the star straight down to zero and glance in a Westerly 2000 metre direction. Find the little boat and then whistle a Rapsody tune, hop into the lagoon...and please try not to swoon.

We need you here and you will see, that we are agreeably, well paid indeed.

So ignore our teeth and get on with it please...

You are in the mists now and the weeds do breathe.

 

You are a part of the Sinister Meeting Room now.

 

  Just a last word, :] I think writing takes faith. That you have to have the belief inside of you that you aren't so terrible a writer that you can put words to paper...ignore the fear that you don't deserve to try or there's no point to it. There is...there is a reason we feel the way we do...we merely have to be patient and wait to find it. And that may take a while...years may go by before you understand why the desire to write or create or dance is hidden inside of you, or not.

  Much LOVE darlings,]
  Miss CLScarlett xx


 P.S.  Just below is a sign I had made in Bali when I went there with my family of an important word to me. It is Kir Hareseth (and I'm, ahm, ashamed to say that I misspelled it, but I think its' importance is still there). It's Biblical...and it was a city that a people tried to destroy...but in the end it continued to stand firm. There was a lot more to it, but the idea I got from it was that something with that name would never be able to truly be destroyed or pulled down. It can withstand.
      Aside from this it's [spoiler alert] the name for one of my most favourite characters in my dragon books, one of his inventions. He's also, mind, the guy Sodom hates the most...so yeah he's pretty darn coolio.

 

It is now the nameplate of whatever place I inhabit.

 

 

 

 

 

P.P.S. Looking forward to the 2nd of October.

 



 

My Perspective Thousand-wide Tangle of Gloom-Balloons...

   Well well well...

          Indeed.

  Well well well Scarlett...have you ever heard the story of the three wells...? Well I have...and you well, well you should have. :]

     I believe myself to be in a far more fantabulis mood than the end of my last entry: and I do feel it was rather unfair, me ending it like that, seeing as I hardly have time to Blog these days, so I should use my entries wisely, as they say.

    Recently I finished IT by Stephen King...and my gosh! For anyone who has read it, you'll understand what I mean without me having to even go into it. But he truly is one of the most brilliant writers I think and honestly...if you want a good read (and if you want to see just how much and how long you can handle the darkness and violence and sadism in the book itself, then please you must read it)
    I think I got to the stage at the end of the tale (and I think it's the longest book I've tried to read, or that I've taken to read), in which it was all so ridiculously horrific and violent and intense that I stopped being scared of it. It became funny in some ways! Is it really possible that I actually feel somewhat tender towards the entire tale?

   If I can give a small piece of advice and honesty, his type of style is envying. In that, he looks at things from such another angle...and all the little names for things and catch phrases that the characters use, are solid and have meaning...they weren't just hastily thrown onto the writing page by King...he really did think it out. (Heehee...obviously, I guess you'd say). It even took him five years to write...and (this isn't me boasting or anything of the sort), but my first novel...well I wrote it first when I was eight or so...and I'm still editing it. What I mean by saying that is that I wasn't advanced in any way back then and I'm still improving...and hey, maybe I've spent too much time on my various novels, but the fact is, only Stephen King could accomplish a feat like that book in five short years.
    My gosh...

 

             On a side note, I wanted to say that from what I've read in books and with how I'm [hopefully] starting to put in place in my own writing, it's all about how the writing is put on the page and styled: how clever it is.

                  The best books are formatted in a way that's engaging and shining...in curious and unusual ways, and often it's just the writing itself...but in some books (like The Raw Shark Texts by Steven Hall and Stephen King :] ) it's visually enticing and awesome. I think these days the only way to get published is to write in such a way that as soon as a reader lays eyes on the first sentence of the first page, the author's perspective hand reaches out and seizes the reader by the collar and won't let them free.

           I have still got a long way to go with my own style but I think the new version of my first novel is getting better, and I'm trying to follow this advice myself.

 

              Ah... but, it seems to me that lately in my life...fate or Jesus or life doesn't care if I want to be oblivious and live a simple life (and I am in no way complaining), but I can't seem to shake my perspective thousand-wide tangle of gloom-balloons that follow me around everywhere. That's why I say I'm always of double-mind in everything, because half the time I'm all doom and gloom in my head and rather sad I guess, but the other half of me, or really my Sodom-Esq psyche tells me and fills me with the belief that life isn't that bad. And it isn't, merely that I think it's just the way I am.

 

 

      But what I'm getting to with all of this...is that even though I doubt, I can still see the meaning behind everything and that someone still cares for me even though I can get lost in my labyrinth most of the time.

       Not only do I get a job on the gold coast at seaworld...but it fit both of my secret requirements: It's permanent, it's basically the same as the work I did on Lindeman Island, the people are great, I get to wear a uniform, and although it's hard work (and a lot of work), it's a bit less than Lindie. It's also filled another requirement of my 109 day list: aka, go to the beach more.

        There's a beach right across from work that I sometimes go to before work...and there's curlews!

Curlews...heehee, if you didn't know they're these tall grey and black birds that live around barren sort of places and that move mostly at night. They've got these gigantic eyes, and they move in a stalking sort of way. But they're so idiotic that if you scare them (and ahm, they happen to have trapped themselves indoors), they usually will fly straight up and hit the roof or fly into windows. My gosh they're funny, and they were on my island when I was working there. So to see them at my work now, it's like another sign that this is where I'm meant to be.

 

         You may think that these are all just coincides, and maybe they are...perhaps I look into things too much, but I believe all this and a few other things, have added to my opinion that things are still taking care of me in ways. I'm loving it in some instances, and in others my melancholia  is worse and somehow more intense.

        But I've always believed that it's about perspective, even though I don't always put that into place. Still...

 

 

 

               So...as well as re-writing my first novel, I've changed a fair few parts of my characters' names, and just tried to make them more personal in how they speak and act. I've also, ahm, changed the series' name: The MatchSpark Series. 

          I'm also really feeling the desire to paint again, or to work on a character depiction on a canvas of my characters and special ones.

 

 

 

          On a last little note, I had the revelation that what we are all searching for is the truth: I know, cliche huh? Heehee. It's true though, subconsciously, in every action we take, we are looking for something that fills us, fills some need...makes us feel loved or special or important. All because we're searching for this truth.

 

           In honour of the truth...here is a pretty darn awesome music video of The Truth by Pnau:

 

 

Much Love dear ones,

 

Miss CLScarlett xx