The Rython Kingdom
The Journey of Brothers
I came across an exercise recently in The Daily Writer which asked the following questions:
Think back to a favourite book from your childhood.
How did it affect you?
What did you learn?
Has it influenced your life?
I scoffed, I truly did! Yeah, like a book I read as a child could still be having an impact on me now?
I have had very mixed feelings about this review. Initially I was obviously disappointed that someone else didn’t love my little monster as much as I, but then I got to thinking. It is totally unrealistic to think that everyone will be as adoring of Rumble. I suspect there is an expectation that every single child’s book should ‘fit’ the usual perceived format. This, I feel, drastically restricts not only the author, but the young reader, whose imagination has not yet become a distant memory and all writers/authors play in their imagination all the time anyway. How else would we have entire worlds populated with imaginary friends? I purposely chose a black and white world for Rumble to highlight how he perceived the ‘upper’ world with its brightness and colour.
So after pondering this review for some weeks I have decided not to take it to heart but see it as a single person’s perception and no more.
I will view it as part of my ‘growing’ process along my writing journey…do I need to garner a thick skin?
How do you response to negative reviews?
Rumble and I attended another successful author reading on the 7th March. Our gracious hosts – Second Cup in Summerwood, Sherwood Park. My little monster was on his best behaviour and was the center of attention, of course. The microphone before me and relating Rumble’s story, I realised how far I have come in my writing life. Even as little as four years ago I would not have believed anyone if they had told me what my future would hold. Writing is such a integral part of my life now that a day without a word either written or read has my equilibrum off balance. It has become a physical need, an essential piece of my daily life as much, if not more, than food and drink.
Are you similarly obsessed?
When I first joined my writing circle I was too shy and unsure of my ‘talent’ to read, but did enjoy listening to other members work. Eventually I summoned up the courage to read a piece. It was short and the result of a 5 minute writing exercise. The shocked faces around me as I finished reading will stay with me forever. It is still a conversation piece even now! So I thought I would share it – the three words were Fire, Clock & Certainty.
Fire light flickered on the walls and ceiling as Joan sat with a glass of her favorite red wine. Watching the flames lick the logs and send little sprays of ash and sparks upward, she tried to calm her mind. It was a certainty that Thomas would be angry with her once he knew of her accident. The clock ticked as its hands made their gradual path towards 9 o’clock and the inevitable argument.
Joan had tried to cover up the dented fender with a casually placed cloth but Thomas would immediately know something was wrong as she had parked in his place in the garage. Such a creature of habit, her husband he had rules and very particular likes and dislikes. His routine had to be strictly adhered to or there was hell to pay. She knew he would go over the top with his recriminations and probably ban her from driving for months.
The clock struck nine and she heard the garage door open as Thomas drove up to it. Straining her ears she heard his car drive forward and then shriek to a halt. His place was taken up by her car now he would be mad. A slam of the driver’s door told her he was walking through to the kitchen and she could feel his presence enter the lounge.
She squeezed the trigger slowly as the instructor had told her and Thomas’ face flew apart. No more shouting, no more rules, no more living in fear. Watching Thomas’ foot twitch as the life left him gave her a rare feeling of joy. No more tormentor.
What was the first piece you read aloud to an audience?