The marriage rights saga......

So, I'm British, in the UK we have civil partnerships, though, correct me if I'm wrong the UK Government has agreed to 'marriage' between same sex couples? I thought thats what civil partnership was anyway?

America, I know, especially from my honeymoon where I met a same sex couple who'd been together many years, their country failed to see their relationship in the same light?

As a British citizen I've always been led to believe that America was the 'land of the free', a place where freedom was respected above all else, I find all of this animosity extremely hard to swallow.

So.......with great generalisation....that appears ok in this case, from what I have seen...these are my points:

1. Your religion and belief in God means a lot to you? Thats great, I'm a catholic, I had my kids christened as such. I'd like to believe there is a God. I like to believe I've lived my live in a moral and upstanding position (within the parameters of being a service woman).

2. You are a same sex couple? Thats great! Do you think your thirty year relationship has less meaning than a male - female marriage? No, didn't think so.
Imagine if you invested that much time and love into someone.....religious person....imagine it's your wife or husband and you wasn't even given the right to arrange/attend their funeral, how much would that hurt?

3. Shouldn't when people take the marriage vow in vain be the point of a bad union? Not whom it is taken by?

4. Religious people - are your armed forces bad people? For the bible says "Thou shalt not kill?" Are men and women attacked in their home and subsequently kill their attacker in order to save themselves, wrong? No, they are not but the bible says "Thou shalt not kill" there is no sub section or clauses to that commandment.

Most importantly:

What effect would Mr. A marrying Mr. B, have directly upon your life?
Do you think that love, between two people, no matter what gender, has no meaning?

I also want to point out that 'American movies' demonise the British....they have us all uptight with pursed lips.
From today, I have us at, and you can quote me "More liberal and free, than them there Yanks."

We may not, thankfully, have the right to bear arms. I can't buy bullets with my groceries and quite frankly I wouldn't want to, but I'm pretty sure when I send my kids to school that a madman with a gun who has the right to have isn't going to kill them.

That's my point overall, you all argue and get het up over marriage rights that really don't effect you as individuals....though, if I'm wrong tell me. But your gun laws are preposterous, they do effect each and every single one of you! A free for all!

I just don't get it?

Please, tell me what I have missed?

Dialogue essay.

This is a dialogue essay I had to write for my NCFE Level three in Fiction Writing.

“Right, I’ve got everything.” She said standing in the doorway to the living room, hands on  hips, her mouth pinched.

     “Please, Kim, we can’t be over.” Joe’s words choked with emotion “Just. Please. Give me another chance.”

     His over-bright eyes peered up at her; Joe was sitting on the cream settee, fiddling with the beige piping on the edges of the cushion.  They had chosen it together, when she had first moved in. She quickly shook her head, dismissing the memory.

     “You believe I can forgive you? After everything you’ve done to me?” she jabbed a finger at him, one hand still on her hip. “No chance, mate!”

     Joe leant forward dropping his head into his hands for a moment. “I’m begging, Kim. Sorry. She meant nothing to me.” He said, making eye contact again.

     She flew at him from across the room, barely missing the coffee table. Her fists clenched, eyes blazing. Joe flinched, gasping he flung himself back into the seat, his mouth hanging open.

     “You think that’s what I’m fucking talking about?” She screeched, her face flushed, level with his. “I don’t care who you shag! What have you done for me except bring me down? I’m not letting you humiliate me again. My friends and family must think I’m a right mug!”

       The scared look on his ashen face made her stop ranting, straightening up away from him. She took a deep breath, still shaking from her outburst, “I….I can’t stand the sight of you anymore.” She hissed.

     Admitting that to him had somehow reaffirmed that feeling. Kim never wanted to lay eyes on Joe ever again.

     “I took you in, gave you a place to live, you had no where else to go.” Joe’s voice was quiet.

     “Yeah, you’re right.” She spat. “And whilst I was here you made me the butt of every practical joke known to man, all tried and tested on me, laughed about me with anyone who would listen, humiliated me in front of the neighbours.” With every word her voice got louder until she was bellowing and pointing into his face.

      She sighed heavily and folded her arms across her chest. “We’re not going to achieve anything here. I don’t want you anymore. I didn’t notice before, but, I changed, I’m not myself when I’m with you.”

     “Ok, I obviously took the jokes too far.” He threw his hands up. “I thought, you found them funny? I’m sorry, I was trying to cheer you up because you were so down.” Joe pinched the bridge of his nose, bowed his head and closed his eyes.

     “Really? You thought making toffee-covered onions for Halloween would cheer me up?” Kim snarled, her face screwed up. “How could you let me give them out…to…to little kids? You told me they were bloody apples!  Oh Yeah! A load of parents shouting at me… comical!”

     “Come on, Kim, that was a bit funny.” A smile started at the corners of his mouth. Kim’s lip’s formed a white slash, her body went rigid in preparation to pounce.

     She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a moment to calm down. Finally flicking her narrowed eyes towards him, her voice even and flat. “That, Joe, simply proves you’ve never known the real me, only the diluted version, the Kim without confidence. It’s time for me to go.”

     Kim walked back towards the doorway, she turned briefly to see Joe, his body sagged, tears silently rolling down his cheeks, he was staring blankly at the wall.

     She shrugged and picked the two bags of stuff she’d come for.

     “Bye, then.” She said with finality and left the house.

Writer or not a writer?

Recently, I have been challenging in my own mind whether I can class myself as a 'writer'.

I started up a FaceBook page, I didn't tell anyone that I know in 'real-life', I didn't request that my friends, or even my husband 'like' the page. I kept it to myself. My husband still hasn't liked the page.

Why?

Because, I was nervous, putting it out there and saying "I'm a writer." I didn't want my friends, and more importantly, my family to roll their eye's at me. I know they do, but I'm not sure if I actually care anymore.

It took a lovely comment from a complete stranger to make me feel like I am a writer, that I have something to be proud of. I think that reflects some of my personality, though, I'm sure most would argue that I'm 'loud and proud'. Actually I'm not. I constantly seek assurances that my work is good, or at least acceptable.

I would argue that what we do defines us, but I don't think thats true. There are people that are employed as cleaners, but if they are committed to charity fundraising in their spare time, having raised thousands, are they 'just' a cleaner (by the way I believe every profession has it's value in society)?

 There are journalists, uninterested in writing anything other than what they have to write to earn their salary, they go home and do nothing other than watch soap operas....are they writers? Are they better than the aforementioned cleaner? Do you catch my drift?

So perhaps, I will go down a different track. What about, if what drives us and makes us happy is what defines us, if we so wish to be called something or have a label.

For the most part of everyday all I think about is plot schemes, characters, sub-plots, hooks, endings, scenes....need I go on. This is what drives me, what makes me write everyday, sometimes I don't want to...I just have to. I have yet to make a penny from it. Maybe I never will. I am a writer.

I sometimes feel aggrieved when people, not just one or two, but a large scoop of people tell me that they would like to write stories or novels and truly think they can without research of the available markets. I feel that these people, often failing to string a coherent written sentence together think that what I do is easy. I absolutely wish them all well, I wish them every success. Writing, simply isn't as easy as one thinks without practice and drive. 

Writing is something which takes pleasure, pain, talent and perseverance. It's what defines me, no matter what other profession I may take in order to earn a living, I'll always be a writer.

Dear Twilight haters,

Twilight

This is what someone wrote in response to Stephen King's spew:

"Again, everyone is entitled to their opinion. I respect his opinion as an author, and I do happen to agree with him. However, I do not agree with the manner in which he stated his feelings to a fellow writer. It was rude, unprofessional, and all over unethical.

I mean, he's used to more advanced writers. I understand this... But he could have approached it a lot better. AND, as I've said before, his word is not law."

I think that the above person has stated what I believe. Stephanie Meyer had a dream. She wrote her books from that dream. I could challenge any author who said they didn't eat, breathe, dream and live their best work whilst they were writing it?

Who is Stephen King or anyone else to challenge Stephanie Meyer's writing style or voice? Her books sold millions of copies and are still selling. Readers invested in her characters, emotionally or otherwise, enough to see it through to the end. If the reader decided to put the book down, that it wasn't for them, that all that Bella Swann wanted was a boyfriend (although, I find that difficult to envisage) that she was fickle and unlikeable, that is entirely up to them. 

We have all, as readers, put down a book, whatever the reason. I don't then decide to rubbish all readers and fan's of that book/author? I consider that unreasonable behaviour. However, in the case of 'Twilight' people think it's perfectly OK to do so, even those that haven't even read a chapter!

I also believe that it's ignorant to compare 'Harry Potter' to 'Twilight'. Harry Potter is a series of book's to grow up with. I will hand my eleven year old children 'Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone' and subsequent books in the following years. They are beautifully and cleverly designed to "grow up with". 

Twilight, I think, sends other messages, to a different audience, if we are inclined to believe books are there to send messages? I'm not sure they are there to do anything other than entertain and inspire the reader? I suppose it depends on the reader? 

Bella possesses qualities I think as admirable in a teenage girl. She has passion, love and desire. Bella displays that she is willing to sacrifice herself for her friends and family throughout the saga. What have I missed?

 If Twilight was, merely,about the importance of having a boyfriend, why didn't Bella just forget about Edward Cullen and go on a fucking spree around Forks? Just saying. After all "The best way to get over one man is to get under another." Yes...yes, or boy.

Bella and Edward evolve during the saga. They turn from teenage awkwardness to a married couple with responsibilities, isn't this what happens as we grow?

I also can't help but feel the utmost respect for Stephanie Meyer, she didn't sell her soul to the movie devil. She remained on the set ensuring her creation wasn't taken anywhere she didn't feel it shouldn't go. Charlaine Harris sold herself out with 'True Blood'. She had the books, they have the series (HBO)....I really feel an aching hole where some characters are missing from the T.V series.

In summary, I think that Stephen King has acted with disregard and stupidity to compare the two authors and books. I actually disrespect him as much as he has disrespected Stephanie Meyer, now. 

Friend or foe?

I have, essentially, always been a short story writer.

I've always written, even as a child. My English teacher was fascinated by me, he encouraged my writing, and I loved him for it. I thought for a time, that perhaps...he just liked me?

However, he had a nervous breakdown and left the school (nothing to do with me, I might add) and the next English teacher also concentrated on my talents, always offering encouragement. I think that had a lot to do with me understanding Olde English....no, mother, not the cider. I can tell you, it ain't fun being the only kid in the classroom that laughs at Shakespeare.

Anyway, I digress.

I only have one friend thats a writer. A lot of friends and one husband that listen to my animated talk of fictional characters contained within my disturbed mind, but only one friend that actively writes (though, he always threatens to stop, I suspect he never will, he's just being dramatic!)

Anyway, that little bugger challenged me! How very dare he! He challenged me to write a vampire story, because that is what I love, vampires- movies, books t.v series, the lot...just let me at it.

I told him in no uncertain terms that I was too scared. How could I touch a genre that I love so much? How could I possibly be innovative enough?

I tried to ignore it, but the nagging wouldn't go away.

Then, a few days later the idea hit me like a well landed punch from Mike Tyson (other boxers are available).

So here I am. A chapter down, four chapters plotted carefully, characters written down. I can say that I have never felt so free. I can see, touch and taste things in my writing, when you write short stories the word count is so rigid in the markets available.

I would like to thank that little devil I saw sitting on my shoulder, he had funny little horns poking out from his curly dark hair and a comical red tail swishing around from behind his back. He looked scarily like that writer friend of mine? Irritatingly he chants "Do it, do it, do it!" in a yank accent. So, I shrugged, swatted him off my shoulder and told him to shut-up! Can he not see that I'm trying to write?

However, I might decide it's a terrible idea for me to write a book. Then I'll quickly blame him.

Heat 19 - NYCM- Romantic Comedy- Steak - Architect.

To those of you reading this that don't know - I have entered a writing competition, it's international.  Upon entry you get assigned a heat. My challenge was to write a rom-com about steak, containing a character thats an architect. It's a 2500 maximum and you're given 8 days in which to write it. My deadline was slightly less because I had visitors.
There are 3 rounds in total and the winners from each heat will be announced in April. I'm not holding my breath! But here it is:

Prime Fillet Steak

Kate leant forward on the plastic surface. Her face resting in her hands, “Ooooh, that right there…” licking her lips, she nodded towards a powerfully built man with  floppy ebony hair and carved features, ”…. is prime fillet steak.”.

     Lisa hit her elbow on the corner of the table. “Bloody hell, Kate, shut up! You’re so crass!” she puffed, rubbing the effected area.

    “Ahh, come on Lisa.” Kate chuckled, “You used to laugh at the grading system! I don’t understand what’s wrong with you?”

     Lisa threw herself back in the chair, frowning at her sister.

     “I think we’re getting a bit old for it. We’re in our thirties now, time to grow up?”          Lisa sighed, unwilling to admit the real reason for her newly found disgust. Kate shrugged half-heartedly in response.

     “How’re you doing with the dating website?” Kate probed, then didn’t bother waiting for a reply.  “I’ve got a date with a juicy piece of rump steak on Saturday.” she said in a singsong voice, eyes sparkling.

     “Can’t say I’ve bothered with that lately.” Lisa coughed, her cheeks flushed under her sister’s scrutiny, ignoring another reference to meat.

     “You like someone, don’t you?” Kate flashed all of her pearly white teeth.

     Lisa leant away from Kate crossing her arms. She didn’t want to admit her crush on a man. Kate would rate him as a hamburger in her debasing scoring method of physical appeal.

     “Ask him out. Double date on Saturday? I dare you.” Kate giggled widening her eyes. She slapped the surface in front of her. “I knew it!

     Lisa knotted up her sandwich in the paper wrapper, flinging herself off the chair, tossing her lunch into the bin.

     “We’ll see.” She hissed through gritted teeth, her body stiff. Kate gasped and leapt up to follow her sister out the café.

     “Bloomin’ heck. Sorry Lisa. What’s wrong?” grabbing Lisa’s arm.

     Lisa shrugged Kate’s hand off her with a violent jerk.

     Glaring at her she let rip on her only sister. “Your stupid grading system. I’ve had enough of it! Looks aren’t everything! He’s intelligent, he’s kind, but you…”, she pointed a finger into Kate’s face, “….you, put me off asking him out. I hate you!”

     Kate bit her lip, turning away from her sisters glare “I’m….I’m so sorry, Lisa. I’d like to meet him. Please, just ask him to come?”

     Lisa stayed silent, her veins standing out on the side of her neck, staring at her sister, still turned away, Kate’s eyes widening with fear. Lisa swung away slamming her shoes into the pavement with each step.

     Lisa charged through the door of the large glass fronted building. Still fuming from the altercation with her sister during her lunch break, taking deep calming breaths, trying to regain composure before getting to her office.

     She was not used to losing her temper, Kate always managed to enrage her. Lisa had started concentrating on her future, leaving Kate behind her. In a way Lisa pitied her, but she’d given up on trying to develop, Kate, as much as she loved her.

     She worked as a secretary and receptionist for an architecture firm. Lisa was surprised when a lanky, bespectacled guy with curly dark hair had taken her affections. He wasn’t her usual type.

     On his first day, he’d paced the firms reception area, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, clutching his portfolio in the other, waiting to be introduced to his new colleagues. 

     She’d smiled at him, in an attempt to break the tension filling the atmosphere of the room.

      Lisa noticed his suit straight away, too big on him, she’d learnt since then that all of his suits were, ‘Must be difficult to get clothes to fit when you’re that tall and skinny?’ she’d pondered several times.

     Lisa saw him every day for three months, apart from at weekends. She delivered notes to him or shared a break with him in the staff room.

     He’d eased into the office way of life, his nerves, apparently gone. Hers, however, were increasing daily, she realised she was falling for his sharp wit, intelligence and lovely lop-sided smile. A man she could finally have an engaging conversation with.

    Lisa just didn’t possess the confidence to do anything about it; her feelings were so strong. She couldn’t handle the rejection, envisaged him laughing at her, despite knowing he wouldn’t, he was too kind for that. She couldn’t handle pity either, though.

     Across the expansive marble foyer, she spotted him coming through another entrance, heading towards the bank of lifts. She picked up her pace, getting there first, hitting the call button with the desperation of a child needing the toilet.

     She didn’t want to face him following the revelation to her sister. It was one thing mulling her attraction over in her mind, but she’d admitted it now. Out loud.

     “Hello Lisa, you ok?” he squished his eyebrows together above the round wire rimmed specs.

“Oh, hi Rob.”

“You look…well, annoyed?” He spoke softly, raising a hand to her shoulder. She flinched, a surge of heat rising to the contact point. She failed to meet his chocolate coloured irises. Lisa shut her eyes briefly, clearing her throat, his fingers were still resting on her, burning an imaginary hole through her black suit jacket.

     “I had an argument with my sister,” she kept her gaze on the creamy marble floor. “she’s got a date on Saturday. With some idiot she met online.”. She paused, Her quick thinking made a little smile creep across her lips. “She wants me to go with her, but um, I’d feel silly on my own.”

“Well, Lisa, we simply can’t have that. Would you like me to come with you?”.

“I couldn’t put you out, Robert. Not if you’ve already got plans?” Lisa rushed, tilting her head to the side.

“No, not at all busy, let me know on Friday. I’d be happy to accompany you.”.

“Thanks, Robert.” She smiled, ‘I’m so clever’ raced around her mind. “You’ve rescued me.”

     Lisa sat on the tube on Friday, her mobile phone was burning like a hot potato in her hand.

     She kept glancing down at Rob’s number. He’d insisted she take it, in case any arrangements for Saturdays ‘pretend’ date changed.

     ‘Bugger, what if I message him when I’ve had a few glasses of wine? How could I face him at work if he knew? I will have to delete this number as soon as possible’.

    The panicky train of thought halted when a picture message from Kate arrived…a dry, shrivelled up burger placed next to a fat mouth watering steak, preceded by sarcastic text.

I’m looking forward to tomorrow night…lol. K xx

‘Not that bloody sorry, then.’ Lisa huffed.

      The flicker of candles on each table made the place appear intimate and cosy. The terracotta tiles and dark wooden furniture created an appealing taverna impression, though it was in fact a steak house.

“Ha ha, bloody funny.” She muttered under her breath at the irony as she eased the door open.

      She was anxious about spending an entire evening with Rob in the romantic setting.

     She saw one person in the reception area of the restaurant. He was leaning on the bar with a hand in his jeans pocket. The definition of his muscular body was evident through a thin cotton shirt, her usual type of date. She crossed to order a drink whilst she waited.

     “Oh, Hi.”

      Lisa jumped when the man spoke to her in an American accent.

     “Are you Kate’s sister?” The family resemblance probably gave her away.

     “Um, yeah, I’m Lisa.” She told him straightening up.

“Cool, I’m Chad, great to meet you.” he replied nodding slowly, his blue eyes ogling, without care, over her large breasts and small waist.

     Lisa felt naked as a sly grin crept across his face.

      Lisa took a side step, Chad followed her moving closer than he had been before.

“Your dress is just lovely, um…”

“Lisa.” She offered her name once again narrowing her eyes at him before turning her attention to the bottles lined up behind the bar.

     “I like the fabric.” He admired running his grubby mitt down her silky blue dress, leaning sideways to get a better view of her backside as his hand ran over it. She flinched and stepped away again.

     “Listen, mate…” she began, screwing up her face. Lisa allowed her head fall back with relief whilst observing Kate coming through the door.

     Kate’s gaze was focussed on Chad, her lips were parted, eyes glossy. She embraced him once she reached him after her exaggerated sashay across the bar.

   ‘Tomorrow, I’ll tell her.’ Lisa thought, ‘I don’t want to spoil anyone’s night.’

     Rob arrived. Lisa sighed, relieved. He flashed her a smile before his eyes fell on Chad, his lips turned into a white slash. ‘Oh no! Is he angry?’  Her teeth grasped her bottom lip.  ‘It’s only appearances! A bit of beefcake! The guy is an idiot!’ she had the sudden urge to shout at him.

     “Um, everything ok, Rob?” She asked instead, her voice coming out in a high-pitch. He didn’t even glance at Lisa, he was still glaring at Chad.

     “Roberto! Hi, pal, what’re you doing here?” Chad asked amused at Rob’s expression whilst clapping him on the shoulder.

Lisa looked from Rob to Chad. “Um, hate to break this up. But, you two know each other?” Clutching her hands together, her tone incredulous.

“Chad is in construction. I’m an architect. We’ve worked together on a few projects.” Rob snapped not meeting Chad’s eyes or returning his greeting.

     Soon, they were all seated at a table with a menu in hand.

     “I fancy a thick, juicy fillet steak tonight. How about you, Lisa? Bet you’d rather go to McDonalds?” It was obvious Kate was unconcerned about the atmosphere being created by Rob’s frostiness.

     Lisa frowned at her sister, remaining silent and peering back down at the menu. Un-fazed by Lisa’s lack of response Kate concentrated on Rob.

     “So Rob, you’re an architect. Sorry, mate, but line drawings don’t turn me on.” She giggled making a sideways glance at Lisa and turned to Chad, grinning. “I much prefer a beefier, hands on type of man.” Kate told them. Chad chuckled.

     Rob’s face was puce, Lisa’s wasn’t far off though she realised it was for different reasons.

      “I’m not taking this anymore.” Rob shouted. He slid his glasses back up his nose.

     “This arrogant little twit…” stabbing an accusatory finger towards Chad, “…stole my girlfriend.”

     Rob’s eyes darted around the room before landing on Lisa. “I’m sorry….I…I have to leave.”

     Twenty or so diners had stopped to stare, intently listening to Rob’s raised voice.

     Chad still had a smug look on his gorgeous face. He leant forward whispering into Kate’s ear, she started giggling again.

      Rob smashed his chair back, glowering over Chad. His teeth bared. “Right! That’s it. Outside. Now!”

     Chad smirked. “Don’t be stupid, Rob. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

     Lisa and Kate sat back, their mouths hanging open.

     “Do I have to drag you?” Rob hissed lowering his face to Chad’s.

“Go ahead.” Chad shrugged.

     Rob grabbed Chad’s shirt, pulling him off his seat and causing several white buttons to ping off across the restaurant in different directions.

     Chad’s muscular arms and legs flailing like a squirming child being dragged out of a sweetie shop.

      Chad managed to grasp Rob around the waist and lift him off the ground.     

      Rob immediately started kicking the empty space in front of him.

      Chad became unbalanced, colliding into a table for two, knocking it flying.

       The sound of crashing plates, glasses and cutlery hitting the tiled floor drowned out the relaxing panpipe music that was coming through the restaurants stereo system.

     “Sorry, sorry” Rob said, looking up at the pair of diners in turn, as if he’d merely brushed against them in a crowded room.

     Rob rolled over, arriving on all fours, gently trying to shake off the glass.

     Chad leapt up and kicked Rob’s butt cheek. Rob winced. “Owww.” escaped his mouth as a late reaction.

     Chad took an exaggerated bow to a sea of shocked faces.

     Lisa glanced at Kate and was surprised to find her expression appeared as horrified as Lisa felt, she half expected a triumphant look.

     Everyone’s eyes remained on Chad’s smug grin, failing to notice Rob had rose to his feet. He pushed Chad like a small girl in a playground might.

     Chad stumbled and slid the length restaurant on a piece of sirloin that had fallen from the table they had just knocked over.

     His face went through a myriad of expressions, resembling those of a nervous swimmer on a surfboard, having unexpectedly found himself deep in the ocean with a huge wave in front of him.

     Kate slapped a hand over her mouth in horror.

     Lisa couldn’t stop herself roaring with laughter.

     Chad hit the far wall of the restaurant, violently, he rebounded off it, dropping to the floor, unconscious.

     Kate stumbled to her feet shakily.

     Lisa got up her spine straight, her shoulders back with a smile. ‘The bigger they are, the harder they fall’ sprung to mind.

     She sauntered over to Rob, still standing in the centre of a deathly quiet restaurant and rubbed his back.

     “I do apologise for my sister’s and her date’s behaviour.” She kept her hand there as she guided herself to face him. “Do you fancy starting again? Somewhere else?” her eyes glimmered.

“Why ever not, Lisa.” Rob bent and kissed her cheek, as if she had simply taken him to a bad movie.

“Wonderful, one moment.” She said holding up her index finger.

     Kate was hunched down over a confused looking Chad.

     “Ok?” Lisa cocked her head to one side directing her question towards Chad, an amused grin on her face. Without waiting for a response she turned to her sister.

     “We’re heading off now, Kate.” She said whilst leaning into Kate’s ear “Steak is great…but, sometimes you just fancy a burger.” Lisa winked at Kate and strolled away.