Category Archives: romance

They either love you, or teach you.

This is a simple statement of gratitude to everyone who has ever walked into my life.

Whether you were the kind soul who offered your seat when I was hugely pregnant. Or changed my tyre on that scary bend in the road. You brave thing. Or the one who shared a laugh with me waiting in line at the  supermarket the other day. Or perhaps you cut me off in traffic. Or broke into my car to steal that packet of chewing gum (sorry there wasn’t much worth taking}.

You might have taught me how to look both ways, or lock the car. You might have taught me patience. Or how to kiss or cook. You might have made me cry, or swear, or sigh or laugh. You might have inspired a lot of love in me.

Recently, someone taught me to trust my intuition. And for that, I’m grateful.

So no matter who you are. Whether you came into my life for seconds, minutes, months or years, I am truly grateful.

You either gave me love. Thank you.

Or taught me something. Thank you.

Or perhaps both.

Once again, thank you.

[My new manuscript is calling to me and I can’t ignore it anymore, so I will have to cut back on the blogging a little, for a while. Love to you all.]

{Writers can appreciate everyone, especially those that hurt us; they make for fascinating character studies. The question to ask: what would make someone behave in that manner? Hmmmm, thinking, thinking…}

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Filed under authors, blogging, books, editors, fiction, I should be editing right now, life, love, pain, philosophy, poetry, romance, weird stuff, writers, Writing

The perils and perks of being a Pisces

I posted this morning about love and poetry, and then half an hour later I changed my mind and trashed it. I couldn’t help it, my mind was radically shifted after reading Ollin’s latest post. I no longer believed what I had written earlier.

It happens all the time. I hold strong viewpoints, sometimes for as long as half a day. I can be persuaded to change my opinion on just about any topic and then change it back again after someone else offers another angle. I’m easily duped because I believe in the possibility of anything. And really anything is possible. [This is good news, Ms Ruby. Love is possible again. Sorry your comment got deleted with the earlier post btw.]

Rigidity is for people with stiff necks. Or perhaps rigidity causes stiff necks. Who knows. All I know is I believe in love again. I believe in the possibility of everything. Well for the next half hour or so.

Einstein expressed it beautifully (and he was a Pisces} when he said, “There are two ways to live your life; one is as though nothing is a miracle, and the other is as though everything is a miracle”.

So, after trashing the love and poetry post this morning, I started to feel guilty about people missing out on these links, so I’ve put them back again.

Poem can be found here: http://keshavnarla.wordpress.com/2010/04/25/just-3-words/

Ollin’s inspiring post is here: http://ollinmorales.wordpress.com/2010/07/25/paracosm/

Love and miracles to you all.

xxx

Lisa

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Filed under authors, blogging, fiction, heart break, life, love, pain, philosophy, poetry, poets, Reading, romance, weird stuff, writers, Writing

When your heart is breaking…write

Oh, how I envy those poets. Those men and women who can juggle a few words in their head and then put them onto the page (or screen) in an way that carries meaning.

How do they do that?

When my heart is breaking, or doing anything else out of the ordinary, besides beating, I write.

Even when I have nothing to say. When the words elude me. It’s healthier than drinking. It’s cheaper than therapy. Even emptiness can sometimes bear fruit.

I wish, with a passion, that I could write poetry, because I think it’s such a good pain vessel; almost specifically designed for the task.

But my poetry would turn out something like this:

Ow.

And really what good is a one word poem?

How much of your heart finds its way onto the page?

Do your character express your emotional experiences? Do words help you make sense of life?

I’m sending love and gratitude to all the poets out there for expressing the inexpressible.

X Lisa

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Write what you know.

If you’ve ever done a writing course, you will have heard the rule: write what you know. Pretty straight forward advice.  Like me, you might have decided to stay within the safe confines of your areas of knowledge. You can’t get things wrong that way, right?

Following the above rule you give your characters the same job experiences, food preferences, thought processes, lifestyles choices as yourself. Safe and simple.

That’s what I thought. But somehow I found myself writing a romance novel when I know nothing about love. How did that happen? And I set part of the story on a dairy farm. I thought I knew nothing about that, but it turns out my great grandparents ran a dairy farm in Western Australia. I had no idea until after the book was written. What part of me was drawn to explore love and dairy farming?  Certainly not a conscious part of me.

Perhaps we write about what we need to know. We write about what mystifies us, what rules us, the emotions that brew below the surface of our everyday lives. We follow a whisper at the level of our DNA. We write the unknown in order to make it familiar and more accessible.

Or at least I think that’s what happens.

Do you write about what you know? Or what you need to know? Has your writing surprised you? Have you ever thought, where did that come from?

XXX

[Thank you so much to BrownPaperBagGirl and also CreativeBarbedWire for this award. It’s taken me a week to figure out how to get it posted here – just drag and drop – and it makes me happier than you can imagine. Thanks guys. My first award. Yay.]

I think what I have to do now is tell seven things about myself. Here goes:

1. I am far more sensitive that I let on.

2. Coffee is my favourite way to feel good in the morning. The joy of getting all the elements right; temperature, grind, milk texture, the pouring together. It’s alchemy, it’s love, it’s a constant joyous juggle of  external factors.  When it’s done right – bliss.

3. I don’t trust people who don’t like animals.

4. Mowing the lawn is like vacuuming outside; boring and tedious. I do, however, love it when all the grass is cut.  But I want it to last forever. Confession: sometimes, in Summer, I try to almost kill it by cutting it really short in the hope that it will burn a little and grow back more slowly. Sorry, grass.

5. I believe we are too visually dependent. If we couldn’t see, we would stop judging each other on inconsequential things like appearance, race, age, height, fashion sense.  We would listen more to each other. We’d perhaps live at a slower pace, enjoying simple things like breathing and sharing conversations.

6. I have moments when I don’t know anything at all. I feel empty. But I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing .

7. Some of the people I’ve “met” on this site are just beautiful and I feel inspired when I read their blogs.

Thanks guys, that was fun.

xxx Lisa

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Cosmic stuff

This is a post I will trash tomorrow; I’m pretty certain of it. And I’ll probably write a new post entitled, “Never drink red wine and blog”, as soon as I sit down in front of the computer in the morning, with a slight headache.  But until then I must express something.

We are more than our bodies, our minds, and our beliefs. We are more than the car we drive, the house we live in, the relationships that cause us so much anguish and joy.

We are, at our core, just energy; little bits of light and sound and swirly stuff. Cosmic stuff.

Anyone reading this might think, big deal lady, what’s this got to do with anything?

Good question. The answer is nothing. It has nothing to do with anything.

Just needed to write it down.

Just needed to state it for the record. Don’t be fooled into thinking you’re that suit, that job, that car, even that body. You’re not anything your eyes can see.

You are more.

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To be everything, everyone, everywhere.

The net, and the recently new experience of blogging, has invoked the weirdest feeling in me.

A longing to be vast and everywhere. There is a sense that I might miss out on something important. A revealing post in politics perhaps; usually the last place I’d venture into, or an interesting comment in the fashion section. All missed, all slipping out of view. I won’t read it. I experience it.

And I want to read it all.  If I could visit every single site, I would. I love all these words; quirky, funny, sad, intellectual, witty. [oh, no, there’s another one sliding out of my reach]

So, I have decided that while A is away, I shall wander into blog-land and see just how many different places I can reach.

There are no heaths where I live. No wild moors, which is probably what my heart requires now, that and some moody quill-written letters.  I could always wander into the bush, I suppose; it’s dripping, hushed and smelling of earth. It scares me a little.

No, I will wander virtually.  My mission: to find the wildest, most wind-swept blog in existence.

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Filed under authors, blogging, books, editors, fiction, I should be editing right now, Reading, regency period, romance, Uncategorized, Writing

And yet wild abandon is so much fun

Yesterday, I thought a lot about restraint . The word conjures up images of safety (a vicious dog held fast on a strong lead).  And control (the two drink limit, refusing the last piece of chocolate cake), and also a masterful channeling of energy.

In music (sorry to always return to music), a single phrase can be carried by strong energy not expressed. Does that make sense?  If one uses everything up in the expressing of a phrase of music, or a line of writing (a frequent comment to new writers is that their work is “overwritten”) then it can sound, or read, weak because all of the energy has been expended in one rush.

In the days when I still played music, on exquisitely rare occasions, I would get a sense of sitting on top of the most immense power or force.  I no longer had a body or mind.  For a moment, I would dissolve into the sound. The line of music, or the aria would be invariably be simple, but so immense in what was left unexpressed.  Great music (of all kinds, not just classical) seems to generate this power.  Watching a brilliant movie, standing in front of an amazing piece of art, staring into the eyes of someone you love, or reading a great book can also help dissolve the body into another world.

And that surrendering of our bodies, is surely part of wild abandon.

Let’s face it, it’s fun to give up control.  In all art forms, wildness is exciting. I like to imagine the creative force as something a little wild and difficult to control, and flighty, and whose trust we must earn.

We walk a line between the two, don’t we?  Some of us leaning towards the restraint side of the divide, others dancing on the wild side. I like to jump from one to the other personally.  There’s joy in both.

Which side has your vote? Restraint?  Or wild abandon?

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