I am ignoring my blog lately. I know it, you know it, we all know it. So what’s the deal? I’m lazy. And I have to resize the photos to fit them prettily into my blog. And whenever I open photoshop to do that, I get distracting making pretty things instead. So, blogging about Australia will still happen, just not as fast as I’d like it too.
Today, instead, I thought I’d talk to you about..well, nothing much actually. There’s all this stuff going on around me, and I’m not entirely sure how to deal with it. So I’ve retreated. I spent the weekend having picnics in the hills and reading, and writing a lot of amazing storylines with some of the most amazingly talented people I could have ever hoped to have met. Thank you, you guys. 4srs. You don’t know what an amazing distraction you are. You fill me with a sense of personal pride, and hope. If I can do it for you, I can do it for the rest of the world right?
I’m going to get started on my nablowrimo story again. I’m going to make it wonderful. I’m going to finish it, and I’m going to do something with it. It’s my first attempt, it’s also, a very, -very- personal story. Mostly because a lot of the feelings of my own teenage years went into creating the character.
I’m reading a lot at the moment. Twilight mostly. Those books are an amazingly addictive read, aren’t they? Have you read them? You haven’t? You should. Particularly, if – like me – you dig vampires, and teenage angst. They’re delicious. They really are. They’re written perfectly for their target audience and the angst, the uncomfortableness of being the new kid, the fitting in with crowds and not really fitting in at all. It’s beautiful. I love them. Team Edward, all the way. Don’t fret Jacob – you are beautiful too. And ohmygod could they have picked anyone better for him in the film? I think not. Still, RobP? You really are quite the perfect Edward. Shutup, all of you. I do not care. He is most certainly my Edward. Frighteningly, he is also TEN YEARS YOUNGER THAN ME. I am turning into one of those debauched old ladies who fangirls young boys and asks them to sign their Team Jacob g-strings WHILE THEY’RE WEARING THEM!!!! Can you believe someone would do that? Dear lord. If I ever turn into that woman, please, take me out back and shoot me like the used up racehorse I’ve become.
Anyway, I finished the series. I should probably write lots about it, from an old lady perspective, because that would get me readers, right? Maybe I’ll do that. I let the girls read the first book. They are fangirling too. I want to take them to the film, but it is M15. Do you think they’ll let me, considering I’m their mother? It feels like I’m trying to sneak my underage children into a seedy nightclub or something. Maybe I’ll try that next week. Just to see. No really, I still get nervous buying wine from the supermarket. I’m always worried the old ladies are going to go “ID please!” And I won’t be able to find it. When really, I should be more concerned about them refusing to sell it to me before 5pm like they do with the poor old alcoholics I see regularly who are all “oh come on love…” and are told by children “I’m sorry. But you know you’re not allowed to come in here and buy alcohol before 5pm.” Because we all know I am turning into a shifty old woman who shouldn’t be allowed to buy wine from the supermarket. No matter how much I would like to claim to be the underage kid with a need to get drunk on Chardon up the Church Hill on a Friday night. Right?
How easily distracted I am! I was going to tell you about Janet Frame. I love her, you know. If I could be her, I would. I’m reading “A State of Siege” right now, and it is so beautifully written. What an amazing talent she had. I loved her since “Owls Do Cry.” She wrote the most amazingly descriptive stories. She brought to life the New Zealand I know, and I am captivated every single time I open the book. This one, is at the moment anyway, less maudlin than the previous works of hers I’ve read. But it is deeply moving. It’s poetic. It’s lyrical. It’s absolutely stunning. You should read her, if you get the opportunity. She’s not easy – she’s very academic, very University Literature. But it’s powerful, and deep and represents a New Zealand that has transcended the 1960’s when she was writing and still fits today’s world. Mostly, because, I don’t think New Zealand will ever truly change who it is. It will always be “that country”. That distant relative of England that never quite made it out of obscurity.
I love it, for it’s obscurity. It’s eccentricity. It’s lack of conforming to the rest of the world’s ideas of anything at all really. We are your strange old Aunty, the one who wears her hair long and wild and cares more about her cats, than anything else. The one who never married, and would rather eat beetroot and drink gin and take Arts papers than get a real job, or a real life, or a husband, or have children, and whom, despite your best efforts, and your obvious embarrassment when she kisses you and smears her bright red lipstick on your cheek and makes a scene at the family gatherings, you cannot help but love. You can’t help but miss her when she’s gone and you sit back and you go “Remember when Aunty used to laugh too loud and talk about her knickers when we had our boyfriends come over? I really miss her.”
Anyway. Janet Frame makes me nostalgic. She makes me remember the things that are important to remember, and to let go of all the rest. She will always be, my hero. Not just because she was a literary genius, but because she was, quite simply Genius.