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?

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?

The last thing I want to discuss, in what seems to have become a series of posts about Life, is “personal independence”.

Before I get started, I’d like to share a link with you. The content relates well with this post – Personal Growth, Personal Independence: The Limit Is Me

If you followed the link, you may agree with the suggestion that the only person in charge of your life…is you. We can listen to other people, but in the end it is our choice when it comes to making a decision. If we allow another person to make decisions for us, that is also our own doing so we can’t complain. Of course, there are exceptions to this, but generally speaking the majority of us have control of our own lives.

I look around and see so many people unhealthily attached to someone else. They usually call this attachment…a relationship; meaning the person is their husband or wife, boyfriend or girlfriend, or life partner – but they can’t see that they are dependent on that person.

Dependency on another person stifles a person’s growth. It affects their outlook and their confidence. It also affects the way they look at themselves. It makes them scared of things that shouldn’t even be thought of unless the thing actually happens. A person who is dependent on another is crushed to the point of believing that they cannot carry on when that person disappears from their life, ie divorce or death, whereas an independent person will still grieve, but they will be able to pick up the pieces…eventually.

My mother is dependent on my father. I know, without doubt, that should anything happen to my dad, my mum will give up on life altogether. I’ve seen it in her eyes and I’ve heard it in her voice when she thought she might loss him (medically; he’s fine now). However, if my mother goes before my father, he will be devastated but he’ll get through it. Neither of my parents planned for this to happen, it evolved over their 50 years of marriage and I doubt they are even fully aware that it occured.

In my own relationship, my partner refuses to let me become dependent on him. He wants me to be my own person and be strong for myself. He wants me to stand on my own two feet and face every obstacle head on. I could say he’s mean for doing that to me, but I know that he’s doing it because he loves me and cares about my future. If anything happened to him, he wants to know that I have the confidence to move through the grief and get on with my life (yes, he told me this).

In truth, no one should willingly give control of their life to someone else. No one should demand that of them. No one should willingly take it either. Anyone who does should have their motives questioned.

I believe that personal independence leads to the other important ingredients in life. This is what a happy life is built on. It makes for a firm foundation. And when something starts out strong there is more chance that it will survive the worst hurricane life can throw at it.

When you look in a mirror, do you like the person staring back at you?

This morning I was talking about Hope. This afternoon I want to talk about “happiness”. This is another complex topic that needs a lot of thought. To be honest, I’m not sure I’ll be able to write about it effectively. But I’ll try.

To begin with, what is “happiness”?

Happiness is a state of mind or feeling characterized by contentment, satisfaction, pleasure, or joy.

Taken from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Happiness

I agree whole heartedly. When I’m feeling content, I’m usually happy. I sat back and thought about the people I know. Are they happy? Some are not, I know that without doubt. But others appear to be happy, yet I know they have a lot of problems, so are they really happy?

Thinking about this made me think about what these people have and if that makes a difference.

You might think that happy people have lots of money, are physically attractive, have great jobs, or own the latest gadgets. Or, you might just think happy people are plain lucky and are born that way.

Research suggests, however, that there are a number of variables that make a far greater contribution to happiness than external and superficial factors.

That doesn’t mean that if you have a lot of money you won’t be happy- or that having a lot of money is bad, it just means that other factors are more important in determining happiness. In fact, a strong positive relationship between job status/income/wealth and happiness only exists for those who live below the poverty line and/or who are unemployed.

What distinguishes happy people from the unhappy is their attitude – they have a different way of thinking about things and doing things. They interpret the world in a different way, and go about their lives in a different way.

Taken from http://au.reachout.com/find/articles/what-is-happiness

My friends who seem happy have huge mortgages, family issues and health issues. They have suffered loss and grief. One even talks about feeling isolated from her very elderly mother who is in her 90’s and who lives a very long way away. Yet when I’m around these people, they are always smiling and laughing. They are always cheerful and giving off the vibe that everything is good in the world. In their own way they are happy.

I know a person with absolutely nothing, except a few clothes, a bed to sleep in and the companionship of someone he loves. They don’t have what most households would call “essentials”, like a microwave oven or home beautifiers. They don’t own a car or have much money for extra (like holidays or Playstation games or dining out), but they are truly happy. Happiness radiates from this couple.

But what about me? What makes me happy?

It’s a really hard question to answer honestly. I think I would be truly happy if my worries and fears were taken away from me. That’s a pretty big ask and I look over what I’ve written and can see that my words make out that I’ve never been happy. That isn’t true. Happiness is just something that comes and goes, like the breeze through an open window or a summer shower.

I look back over my life and I believe I was truly happy as a child. I lived with my parents and brother. I’m aware now that my parents struggled financially, but they always took us out and about and although they never said the words, I knew I was loved. I never doubted it for a minute. Back then, I didn’t have to worry about mundane things like paying bills or how I was going to put food on the table. My biggest concern was whether or not the sun would be shining on the weekend, when we planned to go to the beach.

My father told me once that as a family we used to make the best of any situation. He would ensure we laughed … often. He would ensure we never wanted the expensive stuff because we were too exhausted from the active life he gave us to think about anything other than the next outing. Whilst other families were eating big meals in fancy restaurants, we were blackening bread over an open fire and calling it toast. Do you think the kids having that meal in the restaurant remember the meal they ate? No. But my brother and I remember that toast with fondness.

As an adult, happiness is harder to hold on to. But it’s all about the way we look at life, not the possessions we own. Feeling loved and secure has a lot to do with it, but isn’t a guarantee. Being happy is about making the most of the situations we find ourselves in. It’s about our attitude.

I’ve been through some tough times, but I’ve seen some good times too. I guess, in the end, we need the bad to appreciate the good. Happiness is achievable if we really want it. I believe we need to be realistic and be modest in our wants and then we’ll be able to reach out and take happiness in our hands. In my opinion, the key is to find ways to make us smile and laugh on a daily basis.

Have you laughed today? What would make you happy?

Hope is a belief in a positive outcome related to events and circumstances in one’s life. Hope is the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best. Hopefulness is somewhat different from optimism in that hope is an emotional state, whereas optimism is a conclusion reached through a deliberate thought pattern that leads to a positive attitude.

- Taken from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hope

With recent happenings on the homefront, I find my mind is switching rapidly between writing issues and other issues. Yet, I think I need to suppress the writing urge for now and concentrate on the other stuff for a few days because my mind is running in wild circles.

For a reason unknown even to me I typed the word “hope” into a search engine today and the above quote is the first thing I read. This, in turn, got me thinking about what “hope” means to me and I’m going to share that with you.

At first, I thought the quote was entirely wrong but the longer I thought about it the more I realised that the definition is probably right. I’m not a person who wants the world. I’m not interested in new clothes every week; I’ll wear the same old stuff until they full off me (almost). I’m not interested in having wealth; although money does make life easier, I just want enough so that I don’t have to pinch from Paul to pay Peter (if you get my meaning). I’m not interested in being surrounded by expensive material things; almost everything I own is cheap and/or serves a purpose. All I’ve ever really asked for is peace and happiness. If I could have those two things, I’d be happy to not have anything else. Because, honestly, why would I need anything else.

To me, “hope” is not what I can get out of life, but knowing that the future will be brighter in some way. I think all our lives will be poorer without hope. Hope is something that I am trying to give my son at the moment. If he has hope, he’ll get through this terrible time he is enduring. It’s a shame it’s not something that I could purchase for himm because I would if I could – by the truck load!

Hope gives us a reason to get up in the morning and face another day. Without it, our minds turn to terrible, dark thoughts that can lead to nothing good.

What does “hope” mean to you?