During my lifetime I’ve seen some changes in the world, especially where technology is concerned. I remember, in 1990, when my boss paid $50,000 for two computers. I was thrilled to be given one of those computers to work on. It was a buzz to use exciting new equipment and I learned quickly that I liked computers. Yet, looking back, that computer hardly did anything compared to today’s computers. There were two programs on it, it didn’t have the internet or email. In fact, I hadn’t even heard of those things back then. When I left that job in 1995, there was talk of this new thing called Windows. I had no idea what that could be…and I didn’t find out for a couple of years.

Back then, in what might seem like the dark ages for some people, reading was only done from printed material. Books were wonderful to look at, to touch, to smell. The stories within the covers were sometimes not so wonderful, but I learned to pick and chose quite well so that I didn’t waste too much of my hard earned money. It’s shameful to admit, but the cover was the first thing that caught my attention. Then…if the blurb on the back was good, I’d open the book and read the first paragraph. If I liked the way the words were put together, I’d consider buying the book. If I didn’t like the word flow, the book was rejected. This method worked well for me over several decades of reading.

In 1997, I bought my first Windows operated computer. I installed a word processor called Word Perfect and happily wrote two 200,000+ manuscripts from start to finish in about three years. What happened to those manuscripts is another story, for another day. Yes, I saw the icon on the computer that would connect me to the internet and email, but I still didn’t know what those things were and had no need for either of them because I was happy doing something else I loved – writing.

The years passed, the millennium came and went without the huge catastrophe that everyone seemed to be warning us about. Instead, things went on as usual and then started to grow and grow. Finally, in early 2001, I was introduced to the internet for the very first time. I remember my fascination with the concept that we had instant access to all this information and we could communicate with people all over the world at any time of the day and night. It was brilliant. And what made it better – and worse – was the knowledge that I wasn’t the only writer writing the next best seller. (I say “worse” because it’s since the internet that I stopped writing at every spare moment I had.)

I learned so much in the years that followed. About everything, not just writing. But then I discovered something called self-publishing and the weirdest thing yet, ebooks. I found it difficult to grasp the concept of books without paper. In a lot of ways, I rejected the notion. It just felt so wrong! As did self-publishing.

That first Windows computer was quickly replaced with bigger and better systems, which were again replaced for newer technology a short time later. This cycle happened several times in the effort to stay up with the times, but we soon realised that it was an impossible situation and we finally accepted that our new laptops would have to see us through for some years to come. We were now completely immersed in the instant world of viewing, downloading, accessing, emailing, blogging, facebooking, gaming, chatting, online buying and selling, paying, meeting…

Still the years ticked by, technology rolling along in front of us, always showing us new and fascinating things. Suddenly, self publishing and ebooks became real, acceptable, the way of the future. I found myself wanting to “try out” the self publishing side of the publishing industry and I certainly looked at ebooks in a more favourable way. This was especially true when technology provided a gadget that I could hold in my hand, allowing me to sit wherever I wanted and read peacefully. Especially when I could carry a dozen or more books with me everywhere I went (or a lot more if I really wanted to), without giving myself back ache from the weight of carrying heavy paper books.

What a difference a decade makes!

This year, I have listened to my first audio book and have read at least two ebooks. I look forward to reading more. I already have them queued up in my iPod Touch. I carry an assortment of books with me every day – fiction and non-fiction – because who knows what I’ll want to read at lunchtime or on the way home?! And with modern technology, it doesn’t matter because I have my pick.

I thought choosing ebooks would be more difficult than printed books. Riskier. But I find the cover still catches my attention first and if the blurb is any good then I’ll proceed to view the first page of the ebook and see if I like the author’s style of writing before I decide whether or not I’ll part with my hard earned cash. This method always worked with printed books and, so far, it’s done me well with ebooks too.

If the last decade has given us such changes, I wonder what the next decade will bring. I can’t even begin to imagine.

For eight months, I have been walking to and from the station on work days. It’s only an eight minute walk, so it’s nothing I can’t handle when it’s raining, windy, freezing cold or when it’s a glorious spring day. I’m not confident about the hot, humid days when it reaches over 40 Celsius for days on end in the middle of summer though…we’ll see how that goes, when the time comes.

Part of that walk involves a set of stairs. They take me from the top of a bridge to the road below. They are narrow and steep. And what’s more…the devil has staked his claim there!

In the morning, I don’t use the steps as I have to go to the post office first, so I walk over the bridge from another direction. In the afternoon, I walk down the steps and head straight to the station. In recent weeks, I’ve noticed something that I can only say is a phobia. Yet, in hindsight, I know the phobia has been there since the first morning I walked up and over that bridge, passing the small gap that leads to the steps going down, down, down.

The bridge is quite busy as there are only three places where people and cars can get from one side of the city to the other – two bridges and an underpass. On the bridge I use, pedestrians are protected from traffic by a guard rail on one side and a tall fence on the other (to stop people throwing boulders or themselves in front of the trains passing below). Two people can walk side by side on the narrow path. The only opening is the one to the steps. But where does the devil come into it, you may be asking.

Well, it’s quite simple. Every morning, I start ascending the bridge and everything is fine. As the gap to the steps gets nearer and nearer, I feel the door to the underworld beginning to open. I feel the scorching heat escaping, rushing at me. I feel the evil presence patiently waiting for me to approach and falter. As I draw parallel with the opening the devil whispers unattractive suggestions in my ear and tries to grab my ankle and pull me towards the steep drop. He tries to encourage me to stumble and fall. He wants it to happen so badly. He’s obsessed with it. He laughs the entire time, of course, and that’s the only thing that helps me take those two steps that will take me past the opening, past the devil himself. Then I’m safely between the fence and the guard rail again and can leave the devil and his evil playground behind me.

That’s in the morning, but then I must negotiate the devil again after working all day. When my mind is tired. When I’m not so alert!

Coming from the opposite direction, I can feel the bridge shake with anticipation as a train passes beneath me every afternoon and the opening to the steps draws nearer. This time there’s no laughter because the devil knows that I must walk straight into his open jaws. This pleases him immensely. I can hear him coaxing me closer and closer. I know he’s waiting for me to reach the top step. And then, I’m there, balancing on the edge of this world and the one below. I pause briefly because I really don’t want to succumb to the beckoning, but sometimes it’s so difficult to stay focused and sure footed. For a split second, I wonder if I’m strong enough to resist the devil’s coaxing, but then my foot finds the first step down and I know I’ve won the battle once again because it’s only that first step where the evil one has any power, after that I’m free to rush to the station and catch the train home.

But the next morning, he’s there again…waiting, tormenting, convinced that one day it will be his turn to win…and the battle starts again.

It’s been a bit quiet around here, but that isn’t because I haven’t anything to say, it’s because Christmas is fast approaching and things have suddenly become hectic. As I’m sure everyone is discovering.

I’m still travelling and working. That seems to take most of my days at the moment and will continue to do so well into the future, I foresee. This time of year is extremely busy, so there’s no time for slacking off at work and surfing the net. It’s not all bad though as I’ve been diligently working on planning my trilogy during my travelling time, which is no longer a trilogy, but more on that in a moment. At present, my travel time consists of writing in the morning and reading in the afternoon. I carry a mini-laptop for one and an iPod Touch for the other. I feel quite “up with the time” and it’s brilliant.

My first ebook experience is proving to be quite satisfying. Using the iPod Touch as an e-reader has been a good experience. It’s easy and light to carry. The screen is clear to read. I haven’t experienced any adverse side affects from reading a screen rather than a book. And, of course, the book I’m reading is entertaining which always helps.

The mini-laptop is great for writing. I have loaded all my files onto a flash drive so that I can go between computers without the fear of not being up-to-date (I found I was in a state of confusion prior to adopting this method). It took a while to get used to the smaller keyboard, but I’m finding that I can type with minimal errors now.

And what about that non-existent trilogy, you ask? Well, that’s an easy question to answer.

My idea was to write a trilogy. I had three stories vaguely mapped out in my mind with a thread or two that linked them all together. However, the idea for book 3 wasn’t coming together well. In fact, it fell in a heap and refused to be sorted out, no matter how hard I tried. The plot itself was quite good, but in reality I couldn’t find a way for my character to make it all pan out the way I wanted it to. This put a huge stumbling block in my path that I was finding impossible to find a way around. Then, one morning, I woke up early and lay staring at the ceiling for ages thinking about it and realised that the story wasn’t possible and it had to be dropped. That quickly allowed me to store the second story as a possible future stand alone with other characters in another setting, which meant the trilogy was reduced to a single stand alone book.

Since making that decision, the planning is forging forward nicely. My characters have shifted in their personalities, the plot is changing continuously to fit a stand alone and I’m pleased with what I have so far.

When the days are long and roads are chosen, I’m glad everything is panning out just right for me.

In other news, the number of votes for the competition is steadily rising. There will be no more hints until later next week.

For many months I have been working on a manuscript called Mirror Image. It is a project I have always felt was worthy of telling – not only for the story itself, but for the underlying messages too. It is a manuscript I believe in and I know that, if I were to write it well, it is a story that would catch editors’ attention.

However, it is also a story that runs parallel with my own life. Whilst it isn’t the story of my son’s suicide, it closely travels the path of what my family went through. This makes it a manuscript that stirs emotions in me that I cannot control, cannot combat. And I doubt I’ll ever be in the situation to face the heartache that the manuscript puts me through when I’m working on it.

After much thought and soul searching, I have decided to put this manuscript aside…permanently. The pain it causes me isn’t healthy. The feelings it stirs in me makes me depressed, which leads to not being able to sleep and when I do…I have nightmares. In turn, the sleep deprivation causes me to feel irritable and angry towards other people. And I don’t mean just angry, I mean really, really angry – to the point of wanting to hurt someone, anyone. This isn’t my character at all and it scars me. I thought I could pull myself through it and I thought it would become easier with time, but I can’t and it isn’t. For my own sake, I have decided that I have to put my health first in the hope that my emotional strength will improve over time.

I have also decided, finally, not to tackle the manuscript I had planned and started to write called Suicide: A Mother’s Story. If I can’t write a fictitious story about suicide, there’s no way I’ll be able to write the true story.

Having given myself permission to stop, I feel somewhat relieved…and free. I didn’t realise these two manuscripts were like dark clouds hanging over me until the decision to stop was finally made. There’s no guilt, which is something I expected. I do not see the time spent on these manuscripts, especially Mirror Image, as a waste of time either. I can chalk the time up as writing practice, but more importantly I see the writing as therapy. Maybe that’s all I really needed from the manuscript. To face the emotions and torment I felt. Maybe I’ve spent the last two years working on something that has made me face my past so that I can move on to my future.

There hasn’t been much of interest for me to post about lately. Life is moving forward quickly and before I know it the end of the year will be here. In a few weeks, we intend to go away for a couple of days, inland, which I’m looking forward to for various reasons.

The books in the trilogy I’m reading are thick – over 700 pages each (except the first one, which was a little over 500 pages) – so they are naturally taking me longer to read than usual. I’m enjoying them immensely and this set has gained a place on my favourites list. Not many books make it on to that list.

My new family tree is growing steadily. Each weekend I spend at least a couple of hours transferring information from the old tree and, this time, I’m sourcing everything that is entered into the tree. I have a lot of regrets with that old tree, but at least I learned from those mistakes. With the help of DaF Genealogy (see the link in the sidebar), I’ve even managed to climb over a brick wall that had been holding me back for some years.

On the writing front, I am pleased to announce that I’ve completed the first draft of a non-fiction children’s picture book. The facts are there and now I have to make them entertaining for the intended audience (and the person reading the words to the child). I feel I have that under control. Then I’ll have to work on the proposal, which I think is going to be very difficult to write. I’ve already started doing the research and have printed out some examples. From what I’ve read, for non-fiction it is customary to send the proposal prior to writing the manuscript. However, I decided to write one of the manuscripts as an example to include in the proposal. If it helps or not, I cannot know, but that’s how I’m going to approach my submissions in this genre.

Recently, I posted on Forms of Reading and the Future and another post entitled Kindle, Sony and the iPhone. Both these posts generated a lot of traffic and I received several comments and even a couple of emails, which was wonderful.

As a result of these discussions, I did a lot of research and finally decided that buying an iPod Touch was the way for me to go. I’ve had it for a few days, and I’m still getting used to the way it works, but my first impressions are all good.

I love the fact that I have one small, light device which carries all my music, photos, contacts and event reminders all well organised and easily accessible. However, what I find really outstanding is that same small, light device also holds heaps of books – audio and ebooks – as well as games to pass the time on a very long train trip, which I do five days a week.

It’s brilliant!

So now, armed with my mini-computer and my iPod Touch, there’s no excuse as I have everything I need to get the things that are important to me done – namely writing, reading and gaming. In fact, with a forced four hours a day to concentrate on these things, I should be as productive as I can ever be…unfortunately, I’m not, but I’ll leave that for another post.

Living in a world when technology is advancing every day, I feel lucky to be able to step into the future armed with the tools that should make a blank page fill with words. Words of a story I want to write, words of a story I want to read and words of other kinds that make life more pleasant. How did we ever survive without these wonderful gadgets?

It seems to me that I like living a double life. One life is the normal me, the real me. Some of you know who that person is. Some of you don’t. It’s the person I am on a daily basis. It’s the person “real” person see every day. It’s the boring person that isn’t anything special and doesn’t have exception thoughts on topics. It’s a person that is generally “seen but not heard”. And then, there’s the other me – the writer. That person is seen and heard on the internet. That person seems (to me) to be a bit more interesting in many ways, even a little more confident. That person has a purpose in life other than going to work and sleeping.

I believe I have a split personality. Not all writers suffer from this affliction. Some are normal but they might come across as a bit eccentric. Others are more writing focused and are proud to scream out to the world, “I write, therefore I am an author.” And then you get the section I fall into, those who want to keep the two halves of their lives separate, for whatever reasons they might have.

For me, that separation is a necessity and it is for this reason that I have done something that might make people – writing friends especially – groan in frustration. You see, I have a Facebook account and some of my “friends” are also my workmates. Two are my bosses! Because of this I don’t want the two halves of my life to converge, as I don’t want those people knowing everything about me. Some things are meant to be kept secret. For those who have known me for a while, you may have guessed when these “friendships” occurred (yes, when I changed my name and deleted everything writing related – did you notice that?).

Therefore, I have created another Facebook account. One for the writing side of me. One where I don’t have to censor my words. The account in my real name will remain and will be used as often as it always has. It will be the place I mix with family and friends. The new account in my pen name – Karen Lee Field – will be used just as often but it will be where I show the writer side of my life. For those of you who know both sides of me, please do not say anything on my “real name” account that will alert other people to my split personality.

I am not ashamed of the fact that I write. In fact, the people I work with know that I write. But I want to ensure some privacy. I want to feel free to say what I want without the presence of workmates, and especially bosses, breathing down my neck. Also, because I feel strongly about it, I will not use a photo of myself on my profile, instead you will seen the character you see at the top of this page sitting at her desk, which I think is appropriate.

If you would like to be my “friend”, feel free to send a request.

Karen Lee Field | Create Your Badge

Perfect Victim by Elizabeth Southall and Megan Norris

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This book is a true story about the disappearance and murder of 15 year old Rachel Barber in March 1999 in Victoria, Australia. There are two “stories” running parallel – the story of Rachel’s family’s anguish and grief as told by her mother, Elizabeth Barber (using the pen name of Elizabeth Southall), and, an account of the investigation and court case by criminal court reporter, Megan Norris.

Because of the nature of the book, I do not feel it’s relevant to dissect the book as I usually do and talk about characters, plot, setting and voice. These things are what they are…true, disturbing, heartfelt and a complete waste of a young life. It would be wrong for me to “critique” a book which has been written out of love, need and pain, so I am going to talk about this book in relation to the loss of my son in 2006.

The loss of a child by murder and the loss of a child by suicide are two completely different things, yet they are so similar as well. The loved ones of each are left with unending questions that may never be answered. The deep feelings of guilt are overwhelming, although usually unwarranted. The grief is never ending. The lives of everyone close to the person who has gone forever are never the same.

Reading Elizabeth’s words made me cry…not only for her and her daughter, but for me and my son. As I read the Barber family struggles with accepting what had happened and their feelings of isolation, distress and frustration, I thought of my own family facing those same issues.

And then, when Elizabeth spoke directly to her daughter through the book, my heart broke. In her words I heard echoes of my own thoughts and feelings. It was like Rachel’s mother had crawled into my mind and plucked secret thoughts from my head.

Finally, Elizabeth mentioned that she wrote the book not only for herself or for Rachel…she wrote it to make the appropriate authorities – such as the police and the court system – aware of how the family of someone who has gone missing and murdered are feeling, how stressed they are. She needed them to know the anguish, frustration and total devastation felt by Rachel’s family and closest friends. It was important to her to inform and educate them of these things because she didn’t want another family having to deal with the lack of communication and isolation she experienced during the disappearance and then the murder investigation of her daughter. I could relate to the reasons, although in this regard my reasons are quite different. For me, I want to raise suicide awareness in others and I feel the need to educate people about grief.

In conclusion, Elizabeth said that at the time the book was published, it had been three years since her daughter’s death. It has been three years now since my son’s death. She said that her family were trying to move forward, although Rachel’s memory would never be forgotten. My family feels the same way. She mentioned the pain she still felt and the tears still shed on an everyday basis, but especially on “important” dates. I can attest to that as I’m the same. She also said how difficult it was to face everyday questions from strangers, such as “do you have children?” and then the inevitable questions that follow, like “how many?” and “what are their ages?”. For most people, these are easy questions and they eagerly reply. For a parent who has lost a child these questions are difficult and bring a lump to their throat because it’s hard to know how the questions should be answered as we are fully aware that whatever we say someone will feel uncomfortable.

Recently, I announced that I am shutting down Scribe’s Message Board. That closure will occur on Monday, 31 August 2009. The reason for the closure is mainly because I’m “all posted out”. Over the last eight years, I have talked about every aspect of writing. I doubt I wrote about every aspect of the publishing industry too, but I can’t write about something I haven’t experienced. It seems wrong somehow.

Anyway, that “all posted out” feeling extends to this website too. Sometimes I feel as if I’ve said everything there is for me to say, leaving little else to prattle on about. Yet I don’t feel ready to throw this site away (meaning I don’t want to delete it). So I’ve been thinking about the direction this website will take from here and I’ve decided to go back on something I said once before regarding personal posts.

There was a time when I was experiencing “attacks” through this website. Mostly the attacks were from people who disagreed with what I had written about and, in their (lack of) wisdom, they decided being nasty would force me to change my mind. Well, what can I say, being nasty never forces anyone to do anything, in fact, it will make them dig in their heels even more…it certainly doesn’t encourage the other person to listen to what is being said – those attacks were promptly deleted. However, some attacks were much worse…! I’ll say no more about those ones.

Yet, this is my web space and I think it’s up to me what appears here. If a visitor doesn’t like what they see or read, then they are free to leave and never return. With this in mind, I think I’ll expand into different topics – things that interest me, things I can write about. I will still give writing updates, but I think regular visitors will see an improvement in their quality as, at the moment, I feel I have a habit of droning on and on due to not having anything else to say.

I might even change the title of the site. It seems only fitting because it won’t technically be a writing desk anymore. I’ll give this a bit more thought, but feel free to offer suggestions if anything instantly comes to mind when you read this.

No one can write all the time. Everyone has to have other hobbies in their lives to ensure a heavy, happy existence. Or so I’ve been told.

Anyway, one of the things I like to do when I’m not writing…is play role playing games on the Playstation. Most people stop and gape at me when I say I’m a Resident Evil fan. How could such a prim and proper woman of my age want to kill zombies? What can I say…I love it!

Except for the first game (which I used to own but sold once I completed it as I knew I’d never play it again), I own and have finished every Resident Evil game. My two favourites are the second and third games. They were especially hard to get through (thank heavens for walkthroughs online), but I have easily played both these games a couple of dozen times each. The suspense throughout these games made my heart pound at times as I tried frantically to kill a “boss” that just wouldn’t die. They were games that took my total concentration and stole many hours each time I sat down. Having said that, I got so good at them that I could sit down and finish the entire game, without a single save, in a little over an hour in the end. And, please excuse my bragging, but none of my family could beat my times and I was the only one to unlock Tofu in RE2.

The games after Nemesis (RE3) weren’t as good, but I still enjoyed them immensely. I guess once a Resident Evil fan, always a Resident Evil fan. Having said that, the worst game (in my opinion) is Outbreak – if you took the RE name off the cover, no one would have known it was connected to the other games. It was just too ordinary and felt the same as many other games. Up ‘til then, RE games stood apart from the rest.

Anyway, earlier this year Resident Evil 5 was released. I had to get it and was lucky enough to get it at a bargain price (less than half price new) about a month ago. So Saturday night is now “kill the zombies” night and I’ll be heading off to do just that right after I’ve finished writing this post. RE5 is much better than Outbreak, but still lacks the old RE feel, which is a shame, but I’m still enjoying the game overall. As I said at the beginning of this post, I love to play role playing games on the Playstation. I have quite a few Playstation 2 games and my Playstation 3 collection is slowly growing. I have some great games, but Resident Evil is still my favourite. Closely followed by Silent Hill, which is get for creating atmosphere through fear (brilliantly done with the sound effects used).

My immediate family are used to the fact that I’m a killer on the weekends (a zombie killer that is). Other family and friends remain mind boggled over this fact, but it feels great to smash their “practical” image of me.

Everyone has an “evil” side, what’s yours?