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This isn’t common knowledge but I am a fan of horror/thriller movies and novels. As it had been a while since my last horror movie, I’ve been reading quite few submissions on a website called CreepyPasta lately. Some of you may already be familiar with this site. For those who aren’t, CreepyPasta is a site where anyone can submit their own writing in the horror/thriller genre. Any piece of work published on the site is called a pasta and can be deemed “delicious” or otherwise by readers. I’ve tried my hand at a thriller short story before but have not gotten around to finishing it. I’m going to share with you instead, a poem inspired partly by CreepyPasta and partly by the happenings in my life of late. You’ll no doubt detect a distinct thread of sadness throughout this poem, so I don’t mind admitting that I am going through something that is quite disappointing to me. I hope you enjoy the poem. I haven’t thought of a good title for it yet so if anyone has any suggestions, I’d love to hear it.

Husks scattered across the dirt

Membrane-thin and weightless

Thrown every which way by the wind, careless and wanton

Toyed, tired and desiccated

A sudden gust introduces specks of grit to the air

One finds your eye and makes itself comfortable

Refusing to dislodge no matter how you try

From that irritated and sore eye

The gale dissipates

The howling of the wind ceases

It’s as if all sound had been extricated from the world

But not quite all…

Don’t look back at the footsteps whispering behind you

Of little sneakers scuffing the ground

Don’t turn around to face that guileless little voice

That pleads you for assistance

There’s no one left on this land but you

And if your senses tell you any differently

That’s just the ghosts that once were

Trying to claim you as one of their own


Snow in Adelaide – who would have thunk it! It has been remarkably chilly of late and I, just like most other people, have been guilty of sleeping in longer than usual and eating heavier foods. My dear ol’ dad is visiting from Singapore. When he arrived yesterday late afternoon, he was taken aback by the temperature, mistakenly thinking that it was supposed to be early spring here. I may have to take him shopping for a winter jacket… It’s been great to see him as I last visited him exactly a year ago, and it’ll be great to show him around the greater Adelaide region. As my dad is a lover of wildlife, I should think a trip to Monarto Zoo is in order.

On another writing-related note, author and editor Sylvia Kerslake was kind enough to conduct an interview with me several weeks ago. The questions I was asked include the challenges I faced when I was writing my book, the changes I’ve gone through since, and whether my upbringing has influenced my “sappy, funny and yet refreshing” writing. It was the longest interview I’ve had and I’d like to share it with all of you, my lovely followers. Here is the link to the interview.

Let me leave you with a photo of some meerkats from the Adelaide Zoo. The one standing taller was born a regular sandy colour but has gradually turned white over time. It’s a bit of a mystery…

 Albino and regular meerkat

I’m beginning to believe that good things happen in threes. In the space of one day, I’ve learned that my poetry collection ranks #3 on Amazon in the Australian/Oceanic poetry category, my Book Goodies interview has been released and the SO (significant other) is now officially an SO. That is, if he still remembers that tomorrow….

Read about my writing process, my mad scientist tendencies and my childhood summarised in 200 words here.

Well, I’ve received word from my editor recently with feedback on the first draft of my novel Tongue Tied. Good news is it has a solid plot line. Next comes the hard part, the changing and revision of the parts that don’t work. It’ll be quite a process, no doubt about it.

Having returned from a Ben Ottewell (singer from the band Gomez) gig, I’ve had a great time and discovered that I really enjoyed the opening act as well, a performer by the name of Carla Lippis. With her CD in hand, I shall charge into the morning bravely now. Her voice is quite haunting…


Every now and then, we all like to take a little trip down Nostalgia Boulevard, window-shop on Reminiscence Road and finally arrive at Remembrance Court. Criticise social media sites as much as you like, it doesn’t change the fact that it enables you to view your life in snapshots and captions at the click of a button (or a tap on the trackpad). If you’re lucky, your wall of personal history will show a minimum amount of mind-boggling stupidity and embarrassing behaviour. And if you’re ever luckier, it will show you your development as a human being and how much you have grown as the years have passed you by.
All my social networking profile told me was that I was unusually adept at keeping my crippling neuroses private and that I had a tendency to post too many photos (albeit not drunken ones). It certainly didn’t betray my various little quirks that make me the unique (ha-ha) human being that I undoubtedly am.

As far as life goes, I like to think I take it seriously enough that several years down the track, upon looking back, I won’t have to cover my face in shame and ask myself what I was doing. But at the same time, I have enough down time reserved that I won’t suddenly crack and take a chainsaw to my neigbourhood.

26,000 words into my book, I am still enjoying the writing process as I tend to work on the sections that interest me and then double back to the parts that eventually intrigue me. I started writing in January and for the first three weeks, I was churning out a 1000 words a day, only to experience a sort of lethargic passivity for the month. My original plan had been to continue the trend of productivity I had experienced and finish the book before my semester began. But now I find myself juggling university work, actual work, writing and my martial arts training. I’ve been asked how I squeeze it all in and whether it affects my social life. Luckily for me, the people I know well and like are the people I attend classes with and the people I train with. And so my revised deadline for this book is 4th of June, a day before the day of my birth, What a glorious day it will be this year – having completed my first draft I fully intend to launch my quarter-life crisis with a vengeance. What is this quarter-life crisis, you ask? Well, operating on the law of averages, the average woman in Australia lives up to 84 years of age. Assuming everyone is familiar with the concept of a mid-life crisis, I developed the theory that we ought to implement a quarter-life crisis, just to shake things up in our early twenties. Bearing in mind that I am nearly 3 years late for my quarter-life crisis, I plan to celebrate my birthday with a phase of over-the-top clothing, a complete image overhaul, and an insanely unsustainable lifestyle. The obligatory flashy car and mistress are elements I shall skip as I neither have the funds for a new set of wheels nor am that way inclined.

I have to admit that indulging my rambling tendencies has been utterly medicinal. Stay posted for my next update!


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