Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Credit cards…oh my

June 24, 2018 by donnamareehanson

Years ago I wrote this story story about my relationship with credit cards. I went looking for an old story I had lost and found this one too. I’m going to put it up here. It never did get published. I wrote it in my very early days of writing. The file details says it was written in mid- 2002. This version was last looked at in 2003.

 

I have improved my credit card habits in recent times. Mostly out of necessity because I’m on a low income. However, I cannot say I’m cured.

Temptation of Plastic Fantastic

By Donna Maree Hanson

I was in a dilemma. I had tried on three suits and I couldn’t decide which one to buy. The pale yellow had a nice cut, the blue pants and top were too cheap to miss, and the other collection was the prettiest thing I had ever seen and made me look trendy. I rationalised that in my line of work I had to look professional, fresh, new and, more importantly, tailored. It was too much! I couldn’t choose so I said, ‘I’ll take them all.’

Smiling, I handed over my credit card and then listened to the machine whirr and clatter. My eyes flicked around the store, giving it the final once over. I noticed a blue blouse, with a lovely floral print that I hadn’t seen earlier. The shop assistant’s voice broke into my thoughts, as I had been tempted to try it on. ‘I’m sorry. It’s been declined.’ She looked at me, a slight accusation evident in the finely plucked eyebrow.

My mouth dropped open. ‘Oh? That’s strange,’ I said as I fumbled for my wallet. ‘Do you take this charge card?’ I asked hopefully. She replied that they did, so I handed it over.

The rejection of my transaction did make me mildly concerned, only mildly, of course. However, it had dented my pride to be so exposed and publicly disgraced, even though I was the only shopper in the store. It was like finding yourself naked in a public place. I repressed a shudder.

The charge card went through without a hitch. I leaned forward to see the telltale ‘approved’ flash on the little screen. Although it was my first time to be ‘declined’, I thought I handled it well; I had had another card up my sleeve.

My mind ran through the possibilities. Perhaps it was declined because I had recently moved from weekly to monthly pays, (that change in itself was enough to excite palpitations in the most robust person). I thought I had transferred enough salary to my credit card to cope with my purchasing habits. Obviously, I had thought wrong. It was easily fixed: I could just transfer more.

I grabbed my wares and my three-hundred-and-eighty-five-dollar receipt and headed for the ATM. Obviously something had to be done. How could I cope without the means to purchase life’s little necessities? My charge card was fine, except not very many stores accepted it. However, they always accepted my credit card.

A few minutes later on the way to the ATM, some canvas laundry baskets caught my eye, their fantastic colours tantalising me. I liked the yellow and the blue and bought them both. I had wanted something like them for the longest time and what did it matter if I bought them now or later. I used EFTPOS that time as the credit card had proved unreliable and the shop didn’t take my charge card.

Within the hour, I wandered past the bookstore still on my way to the ATM (It’s a big shopping mall). They were having a sale. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to take a look. There was a great book on the Phoenicians and I had never seen a text on them before, and a little handbook of Scottish names that would be ever so handy for something. I picked them up and put them down. I walked out of the shop and back in again. All the while, my mind was turning over and over—Do you want them? Do you need them? At last, I hit upon an idea; the book on the Phoenicians was unusual and my brother-in-law liked that type of thing and they were thirty- five percent off. I raced back to the end of the row where the books were located. It was an act of desperation in case someone else had seen them too. I searched a bit, rummaged through the health and cookbooks with bright orange stickers with fifty percent off boldly written on them in black felt tip pen. Finally, my hand fell upon them and I made it to the counter before anyone else could get there. I laid down my charge card card, the plastic square snapping against the counter top. The bookstore accepted my brand of charge card, I already knew from experience, so there was no opportunity to expose my recalcitrant credit card.

I managed at last to get to the ATM, it was a struggle it had taken nearly two hours. It was January and there were sales everywhere. I inserted my card and discovered, to my horror, that my credit card was over the limit. I checked my savings account and found it empty as a drought-infested, dried-up creek bed. My mind raced, quickly considering all my other sources of funds, but I could not find any that would to heal the gaping wound in my accounts.

I was stunned at first, unable to take it in. I refused to believe it and double-checked the balances. The sound of traffic passing whooshed by, as I stood open mouthed, gaping at the ATM. It didn’t quite make sense. What did I buy to make the accounts so overdrawn? Nothing came to mind at first and then as if someone was dropping a ream of photocopy paper from high above, the recollections floated down through my mind. ‘Oh!…Oh, forgot that…Shit!’ I said and then cringed hoping no one had heard. I looked around and there was no one about so I relaxed, a little. My credit card was very sick. I couldn’t deny it now. It was suffering severely and I had no cure available.

My mouth turned down with worry. Sourly, I admitted that I would just have to live with it, so I reclaimed my card and went home. I did notice, though, that the sun was not shining as brightly as it had when I had left home that morning.

The days passed and the worry lingered. The only thing I could do was stay away from the shops, for a short time, at least. I would get paid again, eventually.

Another week passed and the worry crystallised. I felt constricted by my financial bind. I couldn’t use my credit card, EFTPOS was overdrawn and I had no idea how much I had charged to my charge card. That unknown started to loom large to the point where I dreaded seeing the credit card statements, but I kept on beating back the fear in the hope that there had been a mistake. I went over all my purchases in my mind confident that they hadn’t been that large or numerous. Then I remembered that I had used my charge card for petrol, a dozen red wines, a few nice meals in restaurants, a present here and there…oh, and the clothes and…oh the airfares. I did a quick mental count and sat down, cradling my head in my arms. It occurred to me then that I was possibly in serious shit.

The charge card company usually debited the money straight from my savings account. If I had no idea what I had spent, then I had no idea what would come out of my account: this had serious implications for my budget. My credit card was five hundred dollars over the limit already and that limit was five thousand dollars. I had hit rock bottom with a thud and groaned into the tabletop.

Later I tried to get over it; perhaps it was just the post-Christmas blues. The January sales were on and I was unarmed for combat, unable to hunt for the best bargain. The temptation of the bargains called to me on the wind, the Mall was only a five quick minutes away. It was hard to resist the urge, the temptation, but I did.

The days blurred into one long frustration that grew until it became a nagging headache that coloured my perception of life. I began to be listless and withdrawn, unable to participate in the normal routine of life. The cupboard was bare and I couldn’t tell anyone about my little problem: I couldn’t even buy a pizza!

It was too embarrassing. I had succumbed before and every one close to me knew about my previous transgressions. This wasn’t the first time I’d bought my credit card to its limit.

The timing is always right. I’d be at my limit and the bank teller would say ‘Is your credit limit sufficient?’ so ingenuously that I would be taken in, as if she were offering me another cup of tea. If she said instead, ‘Would you like to increase your debt with this bank?’ I might think differently if the bank put it that way.

Somehow, there is a strange perversion in me, when I see that available credit figure on my statement I convert it into how much money I have to spend. What has happened to my rational thinking? Am I caught up in a vortex of easy credit and consumerism?

Herein is the catch. The credit card statements say ‘available balance’ and everything is fine until it says you have ‘nil’ available balance. If you’re lucky perceptions shift and you say ‘Hey I owe the bloody bank five thousand dollars!’

I say lucky because it doesn’t always happen that way. Not for me. Sometimes I put a bit of cash on the card and I’m free to shop again. I feel a liberation so strong because once again I can participate in the bargains, meals and fun that everyone else is apparently having.

Inevitably, the statements came and then my world came crashing down around me. My charge card bill was three times what I had expected it to be and the credit card balance had grown even more, once they added in the interest charges. My pay would barely cover the charge card payment and the excess amount on the credit card. What really scared me though was that I would still have a whole month to live before I got paid again. And that meant with nothing to live on. This was really earth-shattering shit!

Anguish gripped my innards and I had to fight the tears of frustration that signalled out and out failure. The temptation of credit had me in its tight grip and I never knew how entwined I was. Something had to give.

I started going through the options, as if flicking through my recipe cards: flick, flick and flop. I could get a personal loan to pay the credits cards all off and never use them again. Unfortunately, I had tried that before and it had worked for six months or so, but then I’d get another card and everything would start climbing back up. No, the personal loan option was out.

My habits had to change. I had to take drastic steps. If I didn’t I would be bankrupt. That would mean ruination of my career and me.

Then again, I am not the only one. There are others, if you are in the know, who have heaps of cards, countless cards, who borrow from one card to pay the other, and who live beyond their means. I heard about a guy who ran up two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of credit card debt on a wallet full of cards. It’s clear to me the banks are just giving it away, ready to suck you in to the bottomless pit of easy credit. Hey! I am not that bad! I am not like him!

However, I am miserable, defeated, totally humiliated and hungry for a pizza.

I have to take a stand.

I have to suffer to expiate my credit card sin and for succumbing to the lure of the plastic fantastic.

I have to stop shopping!

I began. I let charge card company take the full amount from my account. Actually, I had no idea what they would say if I asked them not to, probably lose those shopping reward points that had been so hard to earn. Then I took almost all the rest of my pay and put it on the credit card, and wrote to my kid’s expensive school and told them I had no cash and could I make an arrangement. Phew! I’d done it.

Then came the hard part; I kept my cards in my purse and kept a tight rein on them. Cold turkey was too hard. I had left myself short, and I had to have an out for emergencies, like school uniforms, new shoes and books for school.

Another month over and I had made it through, panting with exhaustion. However, there was a hiccup—the hotel bill from the Bali trip appeared on this month’s charge card. My life was over!

Well, not exactly over. It only meant that the torture had to continue for another month. The school fees had to be paid so I couldn’t relieve the agony of my credit card. I gave it some pain relief though, a few hundred to keep it below the limit, but I couldn’t use it. It was enough to keep the regular debits from starvation, but did not assuage its hungry debt. I still didn’t have the nerve to go cold turkey. Although restraint was excruciating, it wasn’t fatal.

*

The pain is fading now. I can’t tell if I will succumb again, but I am much more in control. I am still broke, although the charge card will be below five hundred this month, which is such relief. I see a slow recovery, bit by bit; I intend to whittle the credit card debt down and then I will reduce the limit. I know it’s foolish to keep paying the interest, even if I took out a personal loan to pay it off, I know I would just get another card. Besides it’s therapeutic to suffer, to learn the nature of your weakness and endure the self-inflicted torture.

I still buy little things, a book here and there, a video or DVD, although I am prudent; no clothes, no restaurants, well maybe once a month and only a cheapie.

You might wonder why I don’t throw the plastic card away, why I don’t listen to that old adage that ‘once bitten twice shy’. I’m deaf of course!

You might ask why the swordsman keeps his trusty blade. He needs it to fight to keep alive, to face the dangers of life. If you were a warrior, would you throw away your sword or your shield just because you took a blow or two? I know I wouldn’t.

Well that’s how I feel about my credit cards. They are my protection from hunger, my access to the things that are necessary for my lifestyle. They are my defence against destitution, and homelessness. Those innocent plastic cards are my shields against the nasty things in life, a means to defend myself. If I need a new dress to go to a party, or if I need to get out of town in a hurry like in the movies, then I can. They are a powerful tool, neat and easy to carry.

I haven’t given up my addiction, I realise that. The lure of temptation is still there. I just temper and control it. It is always there. Credit Cards will always be there.

There are questions that bother me—Is it the cards themselves that are the temptation or is it something they unleash? Am I inherently susceptible to temptation or am I a logical person, who is finding it hard to make ends meet uses credit to get me by?

I think deeper on the nature of temptation and how it affects me. Dark memories twisted with pain loom large as I rummage around the clutter of my mind. The answer is well hidden and covered in sticky cobwebs. There were times when I was struggling single parent where we had no food for a day or two, when I had to give the kids boiled rice baked in the oven with a shrivelled up slice of tomato and a Kraft cheddar cheese slice on top. It was so disgusting. I couldn’t eat it myself. It was like being half out of the pit of poverty.

Around the same time, too, I went to the doctor and he told me to get a prescription filled. I had to say I would when it was payday. He looked at me through his rimless glasses, his balding head haloed with a few feathered tufts of hair, as if I was someone he had never met before. ‘You mean you don’t have five dollars?’ he had asked as if I had just landed from a refugee boat. I shook my head, staring resolutely into my lap. He gave me a sample bottle of medicine. I left grateful, of course, but shamed.

Even though those memories haunt me, I sense that there is yet another layer where memories still weep like unhealed scars. They go back to the past, to the time when I was married young and had no say, no money and no hope. Who wants a life like that? Who needs the memories? Obviously, those times still haunt me and the temptation of affluence lures me on. They drove me to study, to improve—they drove me to this!

What happened to the simple life—those halcyon days where you got paid, dispersed your funds and banked the rest? I have never experienced them personally, though I have heard rumours about them.

I don’t bank anything. I have negative savings. I read the newspaper so I know that a large percentage of the population is in the same boat. I am not alone after all. The temptation is with me now. Is it with you too?

The End

 

 

Posted in A writer's life, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | Leave a Comment »

The deed is done

June 19, 2018 by donnamareehanson

Yesterday, I sent the manuscript of Moonfall to the editor. That is the last installment in the Dragon Wine series. It’s been a huge undertaking to get it ready, considering I only drafted it in January.

In finishing a series, I have looked back over the time I’d been writing the series and it has been 15 years. I haven’t been writing only Dragon Wine in all that time, but that’s when it started.

In 2003, I was living on a small vineyard, growing grapes. It was there the ideas flowed while I pruned the grapes, sprayed them and mowed the rows between them. You can see where my ideas came from, right?

I’m excited that the series is finished. I am also sad, too. I won’t be writing Salinda anymore or Garan or Danton. I know there are more stories in the setting and maybe when the time is right I will write them.

I met with Russell Kirkpatrick today to discuss the map for Moonfall. He had some very cool ideas and I’m so excited. I’ve drawn a map but he’s going to transform it into an artifact.

Many people have supported me during the last 15 years. This support ranged from a general pat on the back and encouragement to keep working to feedback on early drafts and the later ones. I spent a good deal of Sunday writing thank you to all those people.

Writing is a solitary business. You have to write the book. But having friends and being surrounded by people who get what you are doing are like fertilizer. They help you grow, support you when you’re sad and celebrate your victories. I have so many people to thank.

What am I going to do now? Let me see. There’s this PhD thing I’m supposed to be doing. In the next six months, I have to rewrite and then rewrite my PhD novel. I also have to draft my exegesis and then rewrite that a number of times. I am hoping to have something submit worthy for next year. I imagine I’ll be doing more revising and stuff next year, too. I will be tutoring some of second semester too. Maybe I’ll earn enough to pay back all the money I spent last semester. Hahaha!

Today, I did something a bit strange. I had this moment where I just hated my hair. I was going to get it chopped off- you know crew cut style. I chickened out and veered away from the hairdressers. Then I got the idea that I could revert to my old hair, which was a bob. I did that, then I went to get some coloured rinse. It will wash out. But see below. Pink hair. See you next time. I may be blue or purple or red then.

Pink hair donna

Posted in A writer's life, am wrinting, Dark fantasy, Dragon fantasy, Dragon Wine, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | 2 Comments »

Revising Moonfall and other guff

May 30, 2018 by donnamareehanson

Well you can tell that I’m not busy and stressed as I was as here is my next post, really soon after the last one.

Today, I started the polish of Moonfall. Normally, I’d wait a few weeks between the tidy up and a polish to get beta reader feedback. However, as the MS is booked in with the editor I can’t really wait.

Because I have RSI and arthritis and so on, I have to be careful how long I spend on the computer. The longer I spend on the computer the more attention I have to pay to ergonomics. One of the ways I tackle this is that I print out the MS in bits, read them, edit them and then key in changes later. On the weekend, this was proving a bit difficult so I went to Office Works and bought a copy stand. This allows me to have the MS held up at screen height, next to the screen and made the transcribing of the corrections so much more quicker, but also less demanding on my neck. I have a small space to work in and that meant holding the print out and trying to type stuff in. With the copy stand I have both hands free.

Here is a picture of it here. I was quite lucky because it was only around $50. I was expecting it to be more.

Today I started on the polish, now that I have sent Moonfall to beta readers. I’ve been having problems with the beginning of the book from the start. Not only because a mad woman wrote it. I fixed up the continuity stuff but then found I went on a bit. I was downstairs washing dishes and thinking about the problem when a solution came to me. I was so pleased. I managed to cut about 2000 words out of the first couple of chapters and reorganise it a bit better. I am pleased with the day’s work. I think the rest of the story is going along nicely so we will see how it goes tomorrow.

Writing books can be hard work. I think I drove myself to the very edge on the weekend. I’m surprised my brain is even working at the moment.

I believe going to see the new Solo moving probably helped me wind down. I loved it. Then again I loved the old Solo tie in novels, Han Solo at Stars End and so on. Matthew and I are both geeks and love Solo so we enjoyed the film. We saw Deadpool 2 last week. What a ripper! So funny and in your face. I like how it is so meta…aware of itself, Deadpool speaking to the audience as well as the other characters. Next one we are looking forward to is Ant Man and The Wasp.

Meanwhile…back at the book farm…I have uploaded Dragon Wine Volume Two. This is the third and fourth book in one volume and at a price that is cheaper than buying them separately. I intend to do a box set of the final two books too, maybe early next year and then the complete box set. Right now Dragon Wine Volume Two is only up on Amazon, but it will go up at other retailers soon. I just have to update Calibre before I can convert the file.

And once I have had a peek at the edit of Skyfire (due today) and work out how much work I have to do, I will put Skyfire up for pre-order. That’s my big news. I’ll come back here and let you know when it’s up.

So as a tease, here is the cover of Skyfire, coming soon to preorder status. The cover is from Frauke at http://www.crocodesigns.com

 

Posted in A writer's life, Dark fantasy, Dragon Wine, Editing, RSI | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

Out from the cloud

May 29, 2018 by donnamareehanson

It is interesting that sometimes you can’t tell that you are suffering from stress, or if you do how much it affects you, until the stress is gone. I feel so much better today.

The tutoring is over until semester two and the marking. That’s one big thing.

I had a paper to write for a presentation. I was stressed about that. I’ve drafted something. It’s pretty crap but at least it’s on paper and can be edited into sense.

The tidy up of Moonfall is done and it’s gone to beta readers. Phew! That was way behind schedule. The delay is related to the teaching and marking mentioned above and that some crazy woman wrote it and tidying it up was a huge think drain. Luckily, once I got past the beginning of the novel, it got easier. However, I’m still behind and will have to start polishing it now, rather than waiting for beta reader comments. Moonfall is booked in with the editor and I hate to not meet that deadline.

This morning I realised that I don’t have to be stressed about that. I should just take the time I need as I’m not tutoring and I can play around with my own timetable with the PhD. Once I have Moonfall out, all I have to do is focus on revising my novel and my exegesis (which I have not finished yet!!!).

All in all, I’m travelling okay!

Here is a peak at the cover for Moonfall. It is coming soon!

Moonfall-highres(1)

Posted in A writer's life, Dark fantasy, Dragon fantasy, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

It started with a glitch

May 10, 2018 by donnamareehanson

This blog post is brought to you by systems failure. I have marking to do but the Uni’s website is down and all marking is in the computer system so damn…I also have face to face marking from 12 but that has a work around. I can’t even access my schedule. So either I’m going to sit there or the system is coming back on line and I’ll know when it is over.

This blog post is brought to you by a glitch…I think that would make an excellent short story title for the domino effect of a glitch and the end of the world. I’m sure someone has already written that. But there would be on evil overlord because the necessary spreadsheets for world domination would be inaccessible.

This post is going to be about writing. If that bores you look away now.

I’m currently revising or tidying up the first draft of Moonfall, which is the last part of the Dragon Wine series. This is a daunting task. You see the draft was written by a mad woman who obviously had no idea of continuity. I was suffering from RSI and some sort of brain fugue at the time of drafting and I wrote it in half hour sessions…and it shows.

I am up to chapter four. Oh man I want to kill this MS. I want to stab it in the heart. I want to pull my hair out. I wail into the darkness – why am I doing this?!

It’s painful. I can’t tell you why apart from the above. I have to think to fix the ms just to get it to beta readers. Then when they tell me what’s shit about the draft I have to think again and fix it. Then I send it to the editor who will no doubt tell me how completely shit it is again and I’ll have to take vitamin pills and think up some more stuff.

Why? Why am I doing this? Writing fiction? Writing any goddamn thing? I must be completely mad. I could be sewing or vegging in front of the tele or reading a book or drinking tea with friends.

If this sounds familiar to you then I am not alone. If you haven’t been through this then maybe you’ll recognise the signs at some stage. If you write perfect drafts without pain and are marvellous and gorgeous I could hate you.

I have to face the music. I was happy with the draft when I drafted it. It was the final instalment and I thought it kicked ass (arse!) but in the cold light of revising I can see so much wrong with it I want to cry. I don’t cry though, I get ranty.

Here I am ranting!

Posted in A writer's life, am wrinting, Australian author, Dark fantasy, Dragon fantasy, Dragon Wine, Editing, epic fantasy, grim dark, Grim dark fantasy, Indie Publishing, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | Leave a Comment »

Which is better arse or ass?

May 8, 2018 by donnamareehanson

This problem has been on my mind. Some of my books are in Australian/British English and some, like the Dragon Wine series, are in USA English. This means choosing between ‘arse’ and ‘ass’.

For Dragon Wine I have changed ‘Dragon’s Holy Arse’ to ‘Dragon’s Holy Ass’ but it jars to my ear.

That got me thinking about the music of the two words. Arse has a long drawn out ar sound where ass is shorter and harder.

Stupid arse or stupid ass? Stupid arse sounds posh to me, where as stupid ass just sounds insulting.

This brings to mind people who are not native English speakers swearing. It sounds weird. It would take a lot of practice to get it right. I’ve dated a lot of foreigners and they couldn’t swear (or cuss) to save their lives…in English, that is. It would just make me laugh. But in their native tongue though they could swear but it wouldn’t really register to me. I could acknowledge that they swore but not feel the impact of it.

I recall talking about this while trying to swear in Italian. And it was brought home to me just how insulting an Italian would feel on hearing that particular word. I guess being sworn at in your own language is more impactful.

Anyway that does not entirely solve the argument between ‘arse’ and ‘ass’. Arse is my native swear word but because USA English is very much part of our own popular culture we know and respect ‘ass’. Lol. Hey I respect your ass!

But for me it’s the music of arse that really works for me. ‘Nice arse’ sounds nicer to my ear than ‘nice ass’.

This bit of frivolity was brought to you by burn out. I have not posted in a while as I’ve been teaching. I’ve had a few topics on my mind but this one won the day.

 

Posted in A writer's life, phd, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments »

Preview- First chapter of Skyfire

April 18, 2018 by donnamareehanson

Hi all

This might be of interest to some of you. This is a preview of the first chapter of Part Five of the Dragon Wine series, called Skyfire. I thought to post it here as a teaser and to guilt myself into finishing the polishing required so that I can send it to the editor in early May. I think I have two weeks. I don’t know where the time has gone. I’ve been busy and tired and my plans have faltered. Any encouragement welcome.Skyfire-highres

Anyway, there should be little to no spoilers as this chapter introduces a new character.

 

Chapter One

More than a Trace

Karol hated the compound where his kind was imprisoned. This morning, his mother said that Tarkel, his father, was never coming back and then she cried. Ilania was so sad and Karol hated that she was like that, without hope. She spoke with so much conviction that he had to believe, and grieve. He remembered before, before they’d been brought to this compound, where their poor circle of tents barely kept out the wind and the dust. Surrounded by rock on three sides there wasn’t any place to go in this prison. Not that the guards knew about at least. Their village had been neat and tidy and happy and hidden from the outer world. Now, Karol understood why they hid away from the awful humans, who knew nothing grand, who had no culture and were just miserable, evil creatures, preying on everyone.

Karol was small for his age. But he didn’t mind that so much for it meant he could explore where the adults could not and even better he could go where the guards could not. His favorite place was a fissure in the cliff face behind his family’s tent. There he had found water. It gurgled pure and clear as it slipped over a small rock to disappear into the nooks and crannies of the cliff, never to appear again. He dipped his hand in the sweet smelling water and sipped his fill.

His loin cloth had seen better days. His mother wanted him to wear his tunic but it lay abandoned with his things in their tent. He didn’t mind that his ribs stuck out or that his knees were bony knobs on thin legs. He would grow big and tall like his father one day.

And one day there would be enough food. Food for them all. And he’d lie around with his belly protruding and sleep for an age without being prodded awake by hunger pains.

His long hair was tied back, which made climbing and drinking from the spring easier. Like his mother, his hair was white. He didn’t mind that it wasn’t like Tarkel’s, for his father praised him for his looks. Praised him for being true kin.

The water helped ease his hunger. There was never enough to eat. Dried bread and a few beans was all they had eaten in the last year. His mother said his growth was stunted forever now because of the poor diet. Thinking of his mother, he watched the water trickle. He had forgotten to bring a cup to take some back to her.

The sun moved while he sat there staring at the interior of the fissure.  What he thought was a shadow disguising nothing suddenly seemed more. With thin arms and legs, Karol slid into the dark cleft. The slit in the stone was long and gloomy and as he peered in he saw that there was an opening. Not a big space, but if he could squeeze through it might make a good hiding place.

“Karol? Karol!” his mother’s words reached him, echoing around the rocks as if her voice came from everywhere. No time now to explore. His mother needed him.

Now back in their tent, he saw nothing had changed. His mother was still stooped with grief.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she said in a low voice and hugged him to her.

Yelling in the compound jerked them apart. They shared a terrified look and then let their breaths roll out of them. “Roll call?” his mother ventured.

“Early food delivery?” Karol returned.

His mother bit her lip. “You wait here and let me see.”

Then she slipped out of the tent with its ragged flap that kept nothing out. Karol went to his sleeping space. Rolled up and placed at the rear of the tent was his sleeping blanket. It was where he could be the most unobtrusive. Where he could be unnoticed. He saw a lot. None of it good. He folded himself amongst the bedding, hidden.

It was so quiet and the sound of his breathing annoyed him. His mother hadn’t returned so Karol crept to the tent flap and peered through the strips of torn fabric out into the compound. Bent old men, ragged women and a bunch of thin, white-haired children stood in a group, surrounded by guards. There were not many of them left. Some had died of disease and hunger. Karol’s stomach clenched painfully. He could see no signs of food.

A scream rang out. Karol started. His heart raced as he squinted against the setting sun. A child ran across the clear area and then fell down. Karol stared. A spear stuck out of the child’s back. Karol gaped, not quite believing. With sweaty hands, he moved strips of fabric out of the way to run forward.

More screams. Splashes of red. Then is mother’s voice. “Run, Karol. Hide!”

Karol bolted from the cover of the tent. Feet pounded the hardened ground behind him but he didn’t look back. He closed his eyes and thought of his mother. Was that her scream?

Their captors were killing them all. Karol ran harder, so hard he thought his heart would fly out of his chest. He was ten years old. He could do this. He was the man of the family now.

With a quick leap, he landed on a protruding rock and then scrambled up. A spear hit the boulder near him and it clanged and then clinked when it dropped. A deep voice yelled. “Stop where you are!”

Karol didn’t look and scrambled faster, higher and sideways.

“Follow him.” An order was given.

“Hey kid, is this your mother?”

A whimper echoed around Karol’s ears.

“Call him.”

“Hide!” His mother screamed.

Karol didn’t look, couldn’t look. If he did he’d go back to her, he would die with her. He knew they were baiting him.

“I’ll kill her,” the deep angry voice raged.

Karol scrambled up the rockface. He was heading for his little stream. There he could survive for a little while without food. Karol’s legs shook, his muscles were starting to feel the exertion, the lack of food, the fear.

“I kill her. Stop!”

But Karol knew his mother was already dead. She didn’t want him to come back. She didn’t want him to die too.

An odd sound reached him, amplified by the rocks. It was a sickening sound followed by a dull thump. He had to look, had to see. The man had cut his mother’s throat.

There she was blood in a pool around her head, legs twitching. Standing over her was a man, a brutal looking man, thick muscled, bearded, a beast.

Something snagged his foot. He’d stood still too long. A hand pulled at his foot. Karol kicked, kicked like one crazed but still he was dragged down. He was caught. Panic like a demon possessed him. He screamed and clawed and choked off when he thought he was done for. He was caught!

The man held him around the hips and then changed his grip. Karol took his chance. He kicked out hard, blindly and connected with something soft, something that left a wet smear on his foot. A crunch, a pain-filled whoof and a hail of curses. Karol dropped. He flung out a hand and a foot to stop his plummet to the compound below. He slid and then caught on a nub of rock. He clawed for a hold. Dirt and stones hissed as they moved beneath him but Karol was away, carried by fear to climb like a spider up and away from pursuit.

I am a leaf, I am a feather, I am light and I can scuttle like beetle so fast no one can catch me. Soon he was out of sight of the compound. The tell-tale trickle of his little stream beckoned.

Panting, he slid down at last to his tiny cobbled bank, a space large enough to crouch in, no more. He drank and he wept but only for a minute. They were coming. More of the men were climbing to where he was.

He stared into the fissure where the water emerged. He was small. He could fit. He had to try. Climbing up and over the canyon wall was beyond him. He’d tried and there was no easy way out. Not without ropes and supplies.

He could hide. He had to hide. He had to hide or die.

As Karol inserted himself into the fissure, the cold water ran over him, startling his sun-warmed skin. The rock surrounded him and beyond where the light did not reach loomed dark. The sounds of pursuit were wiped out by the crash of the water, his own frightened breathes and beating heart. The fissure grew very tight and small just after a few side-ways steps. Karol flattened himself and squeezed further in. If he was far enough in they wouldn’t see him—they wouldn’t know he was there.

Karol squeezed himself further, first a leg, an arm and then wiggled his pelvis and chest into the narrow gap between the rocks. He ought to have been scared, but Karol wasn’t. The rock was safe, welcoming. While had not been underground before, he knew that his forefathers had lived in the ground. Tarkel had told him. Told him of the great cities. Regaled him with tales of their people.

As the darkness embraced him, Karol didn’t fear anymore. The water blocked the entrance and he was now hidden in darkness.

A large face pushed through the water. Karol drew back, jammed in between the rock of the fissure, water pushed around him as he blocked the way. He had to keep pushing through or they would know, they would notice the current wasn’t a strong that the flow was less.

With all his might Karol pushed himself, squeezed himself, using the palms of his hands pressed against the rock face, the soles of his feet, keeping the pressure up so that he could get through. Water fell on his face, into his mouth. Karol held his breath and then let it out slowly and pushed.

His lungs were desperate for air. Water smothered his face, ran into his nostrils, his mouth, his ears. There was no sound except for water in his ears. Karol knew he was going to die. Here. He was going to drown here. He should have died with is mother. He shouldn’t have let her die alone.

Then, just as his strength was fading, something shifted. His body passed through and he landed in a heap on the other side of the fissure. Choking and crying, he looked around him. It was a cave. Here the water was but a rivulet and passed through a channel in the floor. He saw where it fell from above to the right of him. He’d lost his loin cloth and his pale skin had dark smears where he’d torn the flesh from his torso.

Shaking his head, he sucked in breaths and checked his body for further injury. Scrape marks ranged over his chest, hips and knees. He rubbed at his chin and blood was on his hand. He cried more, releasing his pent up fear and grief. His mother was dead. His people were dead and he was all alone.

He calmed down, telling himself that his mother wouldn’t have wanted him to cry or be sad. She wanted him to live and live free. His father would have wanted him to be true to his people. Tarkel had said there was a place for him in the world. He only had to look.

After wiping his eyes and clearing his nose, he looked about him, serenaded by the little cataract as the water hit the floor. It was surprisingly light inside, with the sun filtering through from outside and reflecting off the water. The floor was tiled. He ran his fingertips through the space between the mosaics. This was no natural cave. He quickly scanned his surroundings and in the dim recesses he saw something strange. He crawled forward, rubbing tears from his cheeks. In front of him was an archway, embellished with strange writing. He staggered to his feet and went up to it. It was a door.

#

Karol slept, turning fitfully due to his various aches. It was a sound that woke him. There were men outside the fissure. He crept forward to hear what they were doing. His heart hammering so loud he missed a few of the words.

“…the debris will cover the dead…”

“…explosives…here…”

Karol blinked trying to understand. They couldn’t come and get him, but they could kill him by blowing up the cliff he was hiding in. He backed up and detected the waft of smoke. He didn’t have any time left. He turned and faced the door.

He knew what it was. He knew what lay beyond. It was a secret that his father had died for, that his mother had died for. It was what was going to save him.

He knew the chant off by heart. It had been a lullaby when he was young, something that made little sense to others.

High for the sun, down for the ground, once for the right and twice for the left. There you can enter into the way of your forefathers…

The door slid open. The smell of smoke was strong. The rumble under his feet making him sway. He dashed inside the darkened Way and groped around in the dark when the door shut. As he moved away, praying that the waygate would hold, Karol tapped his feet in front of him and put his hand out to the wall. A faint glow grew outwards from where his hand touched. The longer he was inside, the more his saw. Soon he saw the stairs and the directions they went. He had no idea which way to go. He had no food or water. He wasn’t going to go far or last very long, but at least he was free.

The ground lurched suddenly throwing him off his feet. He fell into the wall, which glowed light gray and the substance of it smothered him. Karol fought and fought and then calmed. He was either going to die or be all right. He moved his leg as if walking and the substance of the walls let him move. Not back out into the way but within the substance of way.

Posted in alien dragons, Dragon, Dragon fantasy, Dragon Wine, post-apocalyptic, Preview chapter, Skyfire, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

Recent SF movie watching

April 8, 2018 by donnamareehanson

I have started drafting a post from Indianapolis and Chicago but it seemed a bit boring. I’ll get back to that once my tech decides to behave itself. There are lots of photos.

I’ve seen a few movies of late.

At the Indiana State Museum, I went to the IMax theatre and watched Pacific Rim-the new one! Well there were lot of big machines fighting other big machines and some crazy big monsters. I mean that’s why you go watch Pacific Rim. It had John Boyega, playing Idris Elba’s son. And a young girl, who was remarkably talented with machines and was a scavenger. Sound like anyone you might have seen elsewhere? I enjoyed this in 3D and the Imax, but I was left thinking that they must have had a hard time coming up with that plot.

On the plane home I watched Geostorm starring Gerard Butler. Nice city destruction scenes and glossy space machinery but the plot was holier than swiss cheese. It did have Gerard Butler. Did I mention Gerard Butler was in it? Well Gerard Butler was in it. His abs weren’t unfortunately.

Also on the way home I caught Kingsmen: Golden Circle. This was a bit fun, like the first movie was fun. The baddy was campy bad and bits of it were grotesque but that’s part of the play with this. I liked it. I had fun and Colin Firth…well that just doesn’t get old.

Yesterday, I caught up with Warcraft the movie. Now I don’t play this game but I know that it is similar to Warhammer and has those high fantasy elements. You know this movie wasn’t bad. It was pretty good actually. It had a reasonable cast, good effects and some nice emotional touches. It was directed by Duncan Jones and that made me think I should check out more of his films. I think it was set up for a sequel but Game of Thrones it wasn’t. I’m still trying to work out how there was a half Orc woman with pretty little tusks and the ability to speak the human tongue. But who is quibbling?

The Titan (on Netflix)

This is not the worst film I’ve seen Sam Worthington in. Clash of the Titans might have been worse. It’s not Sam’s fault. He does a really good job. It’s the swiss cheese, bad thinking through of the story that’s the problem. The gist of it is that humans can’t live on earth for much longer so a group of folks are being changed into humans that can live on Titan. You know swim in methane seas and fly and yadda yadda. Apparently they are going to be changed, evolved and spend two years on Titan. The changing gets to be dodgy and the wife of Sam’s character is a pediatrician and she’s suspicious. You are changing him! she cries.  I’m like what? I thought that was the idea right? Perhaps they were all only half listening when they signed up for stuff but it seemed to me that you evolve someone you can’t unevolve them easily. We have the crazy mad scientist and the weird shoot ’em up military and the strange, violent reactions of those lesser humans who can’t quite cut the Titan scene. It wasn’t quite a waste of time but it was annoying. There were opportunities  to make this a passing good story but they weren’t taken. I might be jetlagged cranky but really…shakes head.

EDIT!

I left out a movie. I also finally got to catch up with Blade Runner 2049. I thought it was a poignant film with some really good performances. It is very difficult to compare it to the original though. I love the original Blade Runner. It deals, I think, with what makes us human and the blurred or insignificant lines between the real humans and the replicants. I’m not sure it achieved a consistent message there. It was great to see Harrison Ford, and I would have liked to have known more about what happened with him and Rachel in those days when they ran away together. Ryan Gosling was super brilliant and I loved seeing Robin Wright and Dave Bautista along with a cameo by Edward James Olmos.

End of edit!

So now today I accidentally-on-purpose bought the Blu ray of The Last Jedi. I’ve seen it but you can never see too much Star Wars, unless it is a prequel!

All just my opinion.

Posted in Movie reviews, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | Leave a Comment »

Getting sorted to go to Indianapolis

March 18, 2018 by donnamareehanson

I always forget all the things you have to do when you travel and all the costs involved that you don’t think about when you book that fateful ticket!

I had a big score today. My travel insurance is through my credit card and I don’t have to pay extra for coverage. Big win. I did, however, need to pay for a new passport.

I am not quite excited yet. I leave on Thursday morning from Canberra, fly to Sydney, then Sydney to Dallas and a late fright from Dallas to Indianapolis. I leave and arrive on the same day. It’s a weird kind of time travel. On my way home, I lose two days.

The other weird thing is that I booked to go earlier  so I could get a cheap flight. Hahahaha! Then I spend $1000 for accommodation for that week that I’m there earlier. That’s just stupid. I put up my hand. Yes, I’m stupid.

Being a writer, however, I can make use of that week, exploring the city, observing the culture, the food, putting all that experience to good use.

The reason I’m going is for the PCA conference where I’m giving a paper on my research. This is the first foray into the research results from the romance writers and readers. A good test run because when I get back I must start on the exegesis, which is an in depth look at the research. Even then, I probably won’t cover all of it as there’s just so much. People are talking about a book. Oh well, if I get funding I suppose I can write the book. I can relax a bit better now that I have the first cut of the presentation done.

I wanted to try to catch an SF convention while I was in the US but the PCA runs into Easter so I can’t. I have a couple of days after and they are hard to fill, mostly because I’m finding it hard to decide. Should I go to Chicago and check that place out. I have some stories set there so I could research the location. Or should I hang around Indiana and go up north to check out the Amish museum and stuff. Should I go or should I stay??? Argh. Then I had a thought to go to Nashville, or just fly to Dallas early and check out that city. Man oh man. Decisions. Decisions. DECISIONS!

I’ve sent Skyfire off to a beta reader for comments. My other beta readers are reading Sihe, my phd novel. I might have mentioned my editor for Dragon Wine Series went back to work at Pan Macmillan so I had to find someone else. That was good. All booked in for early May. That means a lot of hard work in April to get it ready. Yesterday I started on the tidy up of Moonfall, as that has to go to beta readers by the end of April if it’s to get to the editor in June. Who says there aren’t deadlines when you indy publish? You can’t muck people about. If you book something in it has to be ready. If the editor smashes it and tells me it needs more work that’s on me.

Also, while I’m away the Aurealis Awards will be announced. I have finally got Beneath the Floating City in Print. Here is a link to Amazon.

 

 

So the upshot is that I can safely say that Skyfire, Dragon Wine Part Five and Moonfall, Dragon Wine Part Six are coming soon.

A stay tuned for Donna’s travel blogs from Indianapolis, Indiana, USA>

 

Posted in A writer's life, General excitment, Hybrid Publishing, Indiana, Indianapolis, Indie Publishing, Pop Culture, Popular Culture Conference (USA), Travel, USA, writer's journey | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

Years ago you served my father in the

March 11, 2018 by donnamareehanson

…and now I beg you to help me make sense of my life…

Haha. That’s what it feels like at the moment…chaos!

No, not really, but it’s a bit of a bumpy ride.

I was looking back on My Plans for 2018 post to see if I could get some perspective.

On the PhD front. I have finished the first draft of the PhD novel and it’s currently being read by writer friends before it goes to my supervisor. This certainly helps me sleep better. (TICK)

The data analysis is okay…sort of…we transferred the data in IBM SPSS, in layman’s terms, a program for social science related data. All was going well, but then something went wrong with a couple of questions. I’m still waiting on the person helping me to see what the problem is. This means the my presentation for the end of the month at the PCA in Indianapolis is not written yet. This has caused me to freak out a tad. I mean I still have all the data and I have Survey Monkey and I have looked at bits of it and to tell the truth I have started the presentation. Yet, I look at the date! Yikes and go into meltdown to freakout mode.

At the present time the Exegesis can go play with itself. I’ll think about it when I get back. My supervisor says I have plenty of time. (NO TICK)

The other thing is that I’ve taken on tutoring in two subjects at uni. This is positive excitement and stress. At first it was taking up the whole present mind thing. I’m a bit calmer about it now. I even did one better than I was expecting, I wrote and delivered a lecture on The Protean Career and I’ve written one more that I’m giving when I get back from the US. They were a lot of work. I’m talking days of work, but I am not sure but I think I feel good about the experience. (NO COMMENT)

My physical issues are better. My left foot went ow but now it has calmed down. I’ve had some treatment on my neck and back and I’m functional. I’m working on the diet. (OKAY)

On the Dragon Wine series side of things. I lost my editor. I mean I know where she is and all that…she just went back to full time work. Her timelines were so far out that you wouldn’t seen the last two books until early next year and that wasn’t acceptable. However, I have found another brilliant editor and things are back on track. Now, I have editor deadlines. I have to get Skyfire ready for the editor by the end of April! I’m about a third of the way through. Moonfall will follow after that. I think I must be craycray! I finished drafting Moonfall in January. (RIPPER TICK!)

Craft

I have started some new pieces for a quilt. I’m working on hand quilting the Japanese kimono pattern quilt. These last few weeks though I haven’t had the energy. (BLAH)

Reading and general stuff

Because I am tutoring in a literature studies course, I had a mad impulse to read the books so I have read

Lady Chatterley’s Lover by DH Lawrence (Loved it)

Tender Morsels by Margo Lanagan (The first part was difficult for me. Lots of triggers. But an amazing fantasy story and retelling of Snow White and Rose Red and a little sad)

Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger (The voice was annoying but I could see the beauty of this story).

The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison (traumatised but an amazing book)

The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Attwood (so beautifully rendered)

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep Phillip K Dick (so different to the movie. Different stories but as always -thought provoking)

Currently nearing the end of American Psyco Brett Ellis (an amazing book but the violence is ‘look away’ extreme)

On Audible I listened to Downbelow Station by CJ Cherryh. This took me a long time to get into. I also found it tense and hard but by the end I was a bit gobsmacked. A complex and emotionally draining and thrilling (I’ll admit) ride. I think the issues with refugees in the story is really topical in the world right now. The situation for them in this book was horrible. If you became a refugee in Cherryh’s world then you had nothing. I can’t begin to tell you how that affected me.

I’m currently listening to Uprooted by Naomi Novik and I can’t stop listening. I find it gripping. You know I looked at some reviews on Goodreads and wow, some people really get a thrill out of pulling people down and rubbishing their work. I mean the really rip them apart one star reviewers who have their own following and they all get together and feed off each other like frenzied fish. (ROCKING THE READING THING)

I saw this happen to another book I listed as read. I don’t think I’ve seen it that extreme before this. Maybe I’m just naive.

And other than the above, I’ve done zilch on the Indie publishing front other than sending a newsletter, apply for a Bookbub once a month for Argenterra (and get rejected) and try to get Beneath the Floating City into print. I keep finding little typos. It’s so annoying really. I’ve been meaning to lower the price of Argenterra and I probably will for a short time. (MINUS TICK)

And this morning I have finally booked some accommodation in Indianapolis. My trip to Chicago is a bit up in the air for after the conference so I’m looking at doing something local. (HALF TICK)

 

 

Posted in A writer's life, academic conference, Australian author, To do lists | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »