Posted in 2015, fiction, Writing


Couple of years ago I went through something that was inexplicable, unexplainable…something that I admit brought me down to a place that was one of my lowest points. I never really talked about it to anyone except my parents and some close friends…but this story came from it.

TW: Thoughts of suicide. NB: I didn’t ever think of suicide…but this was my way of processing my thoughts. I wasn’t in a good place. But, I had God. And my creativity and words.
Continue reading “Tomorrow”

Posted in fan fiction, fanfiction, fiction, my writing, Simple Plan, Writing

“I don’t want to hear it.” (Bed Hair – Three)

Los Angeles, CA

“So. You’re telling me you scheduled a fucking promo tour to Australia without asking me how I felt about it? You know what’s doing down there.”
Continue reading ““I don’t want to hear it.” (Bed Hair – Three)”

Posted in fan fiction, fanfiction, fiction, my writing, Simple Plan, Writing

“Thank God for Fridays.” (Bed Hair – Two)

April 2010
Perth, WA

Dear Diary,

You know what I don’t like? Sitting around, twiddling my thumbs and having to wait for work to come to me. I know I should be proactive, but when work doesn’t exist it’s a little difficult to be all gung ho over it. My parents have been complaining, but come on, you have to blame the government, don’t you? And, the media. All the hype last year about not having enough teachers has turned into just as much hype about not enough students. I wish they’d make up their minds.

Luckily, I’ve managed to secure a casual position at the Association of Science Teachers. Not ideal, but at least I don’t have to scab off my parents for fuel money. And I can pay for my own car insurance. Whoop-dee-do. That’s all small potatoes, though.

I can’t believe I’m writing this down; I’m such a boring person. Then again, I guess no one is going to be sticking their noses’ into my journal, are they? I mean, the ramblings of an average Australian woman who doesn’t have a spectacular life aren’t going to interest anyone in particular. Of course, in my opinion, it’s been a pretty speccy life, so far. But, doesn’t everyone think that about their own lives, no matter how ordinary they are?

Okay, so I’m not being entirely honest am I? But, my life is ordinary now. Let’s just forget about that three year period where I was not living at home in a normal suburban bungalow. I mean, not that it was bad…just…well, I’ve compartmentalised that part of my life to be treasured in my own private moments, too private even for this journal.

Anyway. After graduating last year, I was hoping that I’d get a job, quick smart. It didn’t happen, though. Which just sucks. But, that’s life for you. Well, at least it would be, except that ever since coming home, I’ve become more serious about my life. Or, to be more exact, my spiritual life. Which naturally translates to me going to church regularly.

I’ve found this great church in the city that’s just the right fit with where I’m at, right now. I’m not new to this. I was raised in the belief, but I wasn’t really serious about it. It’s kind of ironic my science degree was the catalyst that made me start thinking on it more. That was a few years ago, though. It just sort of came back to me in the last year. I guess that makes me a weird Christian.

Not that any of that matters to anyone, but me. Anywho, I have to stop here. The phone just rang. It was Mercy School asking to see if I can come in and do some relief. High maintenance teenaged kids, here I come…

Continue reading ““Thank God for Fridays.” (Bed Hair – Two)”

Posted in Blogging, fan fiction, fanfiction, fiction, my writing, Simple Plan, Writing

Bed Hair is Not a Fashion Statement – Simple Plan Fan Fiction


So, I don’t often share about my writing on this specific blog anymore. I do most of that on my other blog However, I thought I would share one of my fan fictions on this blog, so you get to see where some of my writing energy goes to.

Continue reading “Bed Hair is Not a Fashion Statement – Simple Plan Fan Fiction”

Posted in a7x fan fiction, fanfiction, fiction, flu season, my thoughts, the aviators, winter, Writing

Flu season and writing season

So, I wanted to write a bit about my fiction, but before I do, a comment that needs to be made about winter.

I do not like winter in Perth.  The number of viruses I’ve had over the last three months has been ridiculous.  And this one I have now? It’s the last straw.  For now.  The doctor ordered the rest of the week off and I’m to stay warm and rest.  I can do that, but at the same time I feel that I need to exercise my mind at least.

Hence the reason behind this particular blog.  I want to talk about my fiction writing. Continue reading “Flu season and writing season”

Posted in Blogging, day 23, day 24, EP, fan fiction, fiction, July, stay, word a day, Writing

July Blogging Challenge – Word a Day

Day 23 – Alone

I’m never really alone.  Ever.  Even in the loneliest of times I remember that I have God on my side and that’s an amazing truth to me.  However, there have been times when I have felt terribly alone.  When I lost my job in 2014.  When my husband is in hospital.  Those are the times I felt the most alone.  But, here’s the rub, being around people does not cure the feeling of being alone.  You can feel alone even in a room filled with people.
Aloneness is not dependent on how many people there are or are not in a room.  It’s actually a state of being.  If you have nothing in common with the people in the room, then you can feel just as alone.  If you have no connection then you might as well be an island in the middle of a grand ocean.  And I think that’s why that having the knowledge that I belong to a loving God works to chase away that sense of loneliness.  God has promised to always be with me even through the deep valleys of my life. And that is a promise I cling to and give thanks for every day.
Day 24 – Summer

I am going to do a fictional vignette for this word.  But, before I do, let’s just say that I wish it was summer right now.  I am so over winter.  Anyway, without further ado, here’s EP (Evil Pierre Bouvier… :P) with his thoughts…they may just be illuminating.


We met in the warmer months leading up to the Australian summer.  At a bar in Queensland.  I’d left the rest of the guys back at the hotel and found myself in a bar near to the venue.  She was sitting at the bar, very much alone.  Later on, she told me that her friends had walked out on her for some reason I can’t remember (she would tell you that is was me who was the one alone…but this is how I remember it).  That pissed me off, no end.  Anything could’ve happened to her…
I guess I happened to her.  But, that’s not a bad thing, though if you knew our past since that meeting…well, perhaps you’d beg to differ.  But, anyway…
She was there.  And something made me walk up and sit by her side.  The way her eyes widened as I came into her line of sight…let’s just say my jeans felt a bit tight after that…
She was a fan of the band…was wearing one of our tour shirts.  She also mentioned going to the gig.  I’m not really sure if any of that registered, though as I was more interested in checking her out.  I knew, even then, that I wanted her.  You know exactly what I mean.  I wanted to feel her skin against mine, to taste her…to touch her, to get inside her.  And I’d just met the chick… 
I still have no explanation as to why or how any of this was possible.  Soul mate is not a term I ascribe to, though Pierre says that’s exactly what it was.  Our souls (all our soul…Pierre….me…) were connected by slender threads of our auras in inexplicable ways.  
Too esoteric perhaps?  
Anyway, that night…I took charge.  Invited her back to my room.  She was reluctant…so I made her promise to keep in touch.  We traded numbers and emails… Best decision I’d ever made…
Fast forward a year.  Another gig.  Different country.  Different city.  I got Pat to be the go-between and he executed my plan perfectly.  VIP backstage pass, Pat brought her backstage to meet the band and then I asked her out to dinner.   Those luminous eyes were once again wide open, taking me in, taking the dining experience in…taking everything in.  
And I waited for the right moment…
Sometimes I wonder if I pushed too hard that first night.  Sometimes, I even feel some guilt.  But, from all indications, she was into it.  And today she would tell me that I gave her exactly what she needed, even though she hadn’t realised she even needed it until that point.  I guess it’s not easy to come to the conclusion that you’re of a particular personality type, especially when it comes to something as intimate as your sex life…and your whole being… But, she’s submissive in the bedroom, and that fuels the Dominant in me… 
It’s taken many years for us to be truly comfortable in our roles, and fully trusting to each other.  It’s why she spent so many years with Pierre, and the others, and not with me.  I broke a lot of trust in the early years…was a horrible person…and I still can be…but, I check myself now.  I don’t want to be that controlling SOB that I was when I was younger… 
Being so in the confines of our home…when she needs to be in her sub space?  That’s a different matter.  I’ll be whatever she needs me to be.  Friend, mate, lover, Dom… 
It is something I struggle with, though…not abusing my position.  It is not in my nature to go easy on her…it is not in my nature to concede my authority… But, I love her…and I don’t want to push her away like I did in that past…so, I’m learning compromise.  Pierre says I’m getting better at it…but, he’s always there in the background.  
Just in case.  

Posted in Blogging, day 9, fan fiction, fiction, July, my muses, my thoughts, word a day

July Blogging Challenge – Word a Day

Day 9 – Imagine

Honesty time.  I use my imagination a lot.  I make up stories in my head, which some would call them fantasies.  The most prevalent ones feature the Rebels of Scotland (the five Douglas brothers – Gordon, Joshua, Daniel, Richard and Robert and their family and friends and enemies…); the Pierre clones (EP, Pips and the “real” Pierre Bouvier); and my other muses – namely Elliott and Phil Preston, Daniel McTavish and co.  Travis Cloke of Collingwood, Alex O’Loughlin and M Shadows have all featured as well.  I do write fan fiction after all.  
Clokey is my Fallen Angel.  In my fiction he is literally the human incarnation of the fallen angel Azael.  He was a disciple of the Devil until he was redeemed and evolved into human conscious so that he could make up for all the wrong that he did in the heavens.  Inspired by the angel wing tattoo that Trav has on his back.

Pierre Bouvier
The first “celebrity” I seriously crushed on and the main character of most of my fan fictions.  He features especially in Jars of Clay, To Assasinate an Angel, Pierre Wars: Attack of the Clones, Bed Hair is Not a Fashion Statement, Songs of the Deep Blue, Tattoos of Memories. He has featured in many others, but a lot of them in the guise of….

EP (Evil Pierre) is my writing muse.  He is how Pierre has manifested in many of my stories.  A darker version of the Pierre we all know and love.  He’s been a bounty hunter, a vampire, a master, a serial killer to name a few.  

Isn’t really my creation but I borrowed him for some of my stories.  He’s the lighter side of Pierre, the sweet, cheeky personality that doesn’t have a care in the world and balances out the darkness that is EP.  

The three Pierres are linked inexplicably and they are in my fictional worlds (my imagination at least) capable of supernatural feats – mind reading, teleportation, healing and the like.  Though this was more in role play with friends on the old SimplePlanOnline message boards back when I was younger.

Alex O’Loughlin
Daniel McTavish face claim
Alex has been himself; a vampire; and sometimes McGarrett.  He is also the face of Daniel McTavish my completely original character who came to me relatively recently in comparison to my other muses. He is of two guises.  One is the killer cum youth pastor; the other is the Commander in a dystopian society that has banned music…inspired from a tale featuring…

M Shadows and Zacky V
Matthew Sanders is the original Commander of the Creed.  (Well, he’s actually the lead singer of Avenged Sevenfold in real life, and Zacky is the rhythm guitarist).  But, it’s his story, Avenged Sevenfold fan fic Shadow’s Creed that inspired my original fiction The Uprising, which is McTavish’s story.  Matthew and ZV have also been vampires alongside EP’s vampire.  He’s also joined Alex, EP, Pierre and Clokey in fighting for my mind’s attention.  

The Rebels
My fertile imagination created before all of these, the Rebels of Scotland.  Gordon was inspired directly from my high school crush, at least his name and looks.  Everything else was my own creation.  Gordon and his four younger brothers (Joshua, Daniel, Richard, Robert).  His mother Celandine; his father Gregory.  And the rest.  The Fenton’s (Joseph, Josephine, Jacob, Jemima), the McDonalds (Stephen, Kayla, Jams), the McGregors (the Royal family of Scotland), the O’Donnells (Zachariah, Caleb, Jason), the Pasans (Matthew, Anthony), the O’Days (Michael, Terence)…and so on and so forth.  
They exist in a fictional Scotland that is ruled by His Majesty King Henry McGregor and his Crown Prince son, Jonathan.  I don’t really have any concrete tale, except that Gordon left Scotland to go to school in Australia, then returns to Scotland with the school and they don’t realise that he is a Rebel.  He doesn’t tell them and they don’t find out until either of two things happens….depending on where my mind goes.
Either Gordon is rude to prince Jonathan when the prince tells his school group that the Rebel Chieftain (who is Gordon’s younger brother) is dangerous and they need to stay away from him.  And then Gordon’s teachers want him to apologise to Prince Jonathan and after that want to meet his family.  And only after that they find out Gordon is a Rebel.
The other scenario is that the Rebel Chieftan (Joshua, Gordon’s brother) has been hosting one of Gordon’s friends and then that friend gets hurt, and Joshua was going to be arrested but Gordon manages to persuade them to give him a chance and let him host him instead.  Again it’s not until after he’s spent some time with Joshua being “hosted” that his friends and teachers find out that Gordon is actually a Rebel.  
I do want to write some proper fiction around them, but in the mean time I’ve borrowed, Gordon, Robert and their cousin Lachlan for my Uprising fiction.  
The Uprising
My imagination brought me to these four as the faces of The Uprising… And I found that amazing because that never used to happen to me. 
Alex is Daniel
Thomas Sangster is Robbie
Pierre is Pips Preston
Jim Sturgess is Elliott

Part of me sits back and thinks…imagine if none of these muses had ever shown up.  Mayhap my Rebels may have populated the pages of writing that have been consumed by EP and his ilk.

I am so glad that was not the case.  I feel blessed to be able to write everything I have.  I’ve learnt and grown a lot as a writer and that’s something.  

Posted in 2015, fiction, my writing

The Uprising – Chapter Four [Finally!]

1.     The partial or total absence of light
2.     Wickedness or evil
Joshua reckons I’m a nerd.  I can’t help it that I’ve read the dictionary a hundred times over.  Words are fascinating.  And I like to write.  Today’s Word of the Day…darkness.  I don’t think I ever thought too hard about what that meant until I met Pips.  He’s an intriguing personality.  Argumentative, yet tender-hearted; loud, brash with a mouth that’s probably been washed with soap countless times, but willing to lend a hand at all times.  Contemplative, melancholic but exhibiting a sense of joy that I haven’t seen in another person since. 
I know, I know…I shouldn’t tell you all this straight away.  Should feed you description piecemeal.  But, I think it’s important to acknowledge what kind of person he was from the beginning. 
I guess this is kind of an obituary of sorts.  Tough to write, cathartic though.  Necessary.  It’s taken me a while to process what happened in our shared pasts. 
You see, being the ‘kid’ of the operation was exhausting, especially when I felt I had a lot more to contribute.  I like to believe that Pips gave me that out.  He recognised the kindred spirit within me and gave me free reign to make my own decisions, and face the consequences of my actions.  Of which there were many.  Not all bad, but not all good.
The first time meeting him was an awkward experience.  It wasn’t even something I’d expected.  I was out the front of the house, mowing the lawn when I heard raised voices from the neighbours and loud barking.  Mum told me later on that Elliott’s new puppy was the biggest mongrel going…not that I ever came to agree with that sentiment.  But, that’s not really important. 
The dog died at any rate.  Lachlan ended up having to shoot it to save us…but that’s a story for another time.
I went to investigate, God alone knows why.  I’m not given to being nosy at the best of times.  Elliott was out the front with a man that I think everyone would recognise.  The face of a criminal was always made well known in the City. 
Phillip Preston.  His face was plastered all over the city; wanted posters mainly.  His most striking feature those luminous eyes.  The darkness in their depths commanded attention, and received it.  Whenever I rode passed them on my bike, I couldn’t help but be drawn to his gaze.  Forever trying to decipher the emotions with them.  Something I tend to do with everyone, to be honest…
However, I hadn’t known that he was related to my neighbour, not until the reports on the news said that he’d been paroled.  Who could even imagine someone such as Pips McGee – I’ll come back to that name later by the way…he is a Preston after all – would be the brother of someone as strait laced as Elliott Preston.  Though, even Elliott ended up surprising me. 
Elliott looked over, catching my eye as Pips, who was the one doing the yelling, ranted at him.  Something about how the guards at The Astor were a bunch of “mothereffing bastards” who wouldn’t know how to shoot anyone even if they had targets painted on their foreheads.  Awkward. 
Elliott lifted a hand in my direction, I nodding in return because that was the polite thing to do.  Elliott came over, leaving his brother to keep going.
“Hey, kid.”
I smiled, glancing over at Pips.  “I didn’t realise…”
“The City Bomber is my brother?” Elliott shook his head.  “He’s always unexpected.  Came into this world a surprise.  Probably leave it that way, too.”  That was definitely the truth…
Leaning against the fence, I observed him for a moment.  Pips tugged a bag from the back of Elliott’s truck, propping it against the side of the vehicle, still muttering to himself.  In person, he didn’t seem as intimidating as the media portrayed him, but it wasn’t as if I’d ever met him.  Not sure how that could be since Elliott had lived next to us since I was really little.
“He’s never lived with me.” Well, that would explain that…
I looked at Elliott.
He sighed.  “Pips spent most of his time in trouble.  He’s that square peg trying to fit in a round hole.  Doesn’t fit.”  Elliott grimaced.  “I’m just glad he didn’t go the way others are…have gone.” I noticed his correction and knew why, grimacing myself.
“We don’t talk about Lachlan.” 
“Figures.  I’m sorry, kid.”
There was a pause then. 
I’m not sure what it was, but there was something that Elliott wasn’t saying.  The fact that he was even bringing up my cousin was odd in itself.  I was aware they were long-time friends, but Elliott was as sentimental as a brick.
“I don’t let it get to me.  Got my own life to think about.” Though that didn’t stop me from thinking things that I knew I shouldn’t.  Lachlan’s impending execution…the fact that he even got arrested.  Not something I would admit to spending my thoughts on.
Elliott chuckled and said, “We all do.  But, having a criminal in the family makes you see society a little differently.”  He slapped a hand against the railing then turned to head back to his brother. 
I thought about his parting words and that word ‘darkness’ came to my mind again.  Society was a lot darker these days.  And I don’t even know what it was that made it feel that way.  It hadn’t directly affected me, and even with Lachlan’s incarceration it still wasn’t something that made any difference to my life. 
Until Elliott turned around and came back to the fence and asked me if I wanted to come over for a drink. 
Now, when Elliott asks you in for a drink the one thing you don’t do is refuse.  The thing is, his invitation is never about the actual act of drinking.  It’s a pretext to something a lot more important.  I found that out that fateful day…
Ha.  Fateful day.  It’s still difficult to get my head around why I even walked through the door, accepting his invitation.  Perhaps my mind was still in turmoil over my cousin’s predicament.  Subconsciously speaking.  Perhaps it was just mere curiosity; or sheer bloody mindedness.  Who knows?  I walked through that door…into…well, into a neat, uncluttered space that was confronting in its tidiness.  Even more so when you consider that the abode looked like the home of a little old granny, and not two thirty-something year old men.  One a bounty hunter and the other a criminal.
Flower-printed pottery lined the bench and the fresh aroma of…
“Is that bread I smell?” I asked, stupidly. 
Elliott’s lips twitched in a semblance of a smile.  “Baked it this morning.  Pips eats it.” 
I nodded, casting my eyes around the room.  A small round table took up the central area with three chairs spaced around it.  The glass top reflected the light of a row of globes that hung from the ceiling.  The most notable objects in the room though were upon that table.  Weapons.  Firearms of assorted variety.  Small, large, some quite clunky and old-fashioned others sleek and glinting metallically in their modernity. 
Blinking several times, I tried to come up with something to say as Elliott walked over and lifted what I recognised to be a shorn-off shotgun.  Words escaped me for the first time in my life.  Good thing he decided to explain.
“We’ve got a plan, kid.” He picked up a rag and started to rub it along the length of the barrel. 
I lifted an eyebrow.  “Plan to do what?”
Elliott sighed, glancing over at Pips who was busy making some toast.  His brother’s eyes flickered to the side then refocused on the task at hand. 
“Your cousin.  You close?”
I wasn’t sure where he was going with this line of questioning but I decided honesty was the best policy here.
“We used to be.  But, then he started going a little strange…” If you could call breaking all contact with the family and subversively trying to break the law going a little strange.
“Right,” Elliott rolled his eyes.  “Anyway, the plan is this…”
After he outlined his thoughts, I wasn’t quite sure whether I was hearing clearly, or not.  Breaking Lachlan out of the Astor didn’t sound like the genius plan that he made it out to sound.  It was definitely preferable to the only other outcome, though. 
You never wanted to lose family…

Posted in Blogging, fan fiction, fiction, first person pov, jars of clay, my thoughts, Simple Plan

Inspiration! Or is writing in first person from a guy’s point of view really that hard?

Let me give you this artsy photo of Pierre Bouvier to inspire you…in some way.  Not sure how, but just go with it.
So, thanks to random Simple Plan happenings I finally got some inspiration for Jars of Clay.  No, no relation to the band.  Jars of Clay is my latest Simple Plan story.  By latest, I began writing it a year ago when I was in one of my most creative periods.  I came up with several other ideas during that period as well, none of which are cooperating with me at the moment. 

To be honest, if the guys weren’t in the studio, this particular story may have stagnated; but seeing the photo updates from the studio has given me a push and dropped ideas in my mind again.

Pause to enjoy this photo of Pat, Chuck and Pierre….

Anyway, that’s actually not what I wanted to touch on in this post.  Jars of Clay is written in first person point of view, which isn’t as easy as some would think.  First of all, writing from this pov means you can only write from the pov’s point of view.  So, you can’t get inside the head of other characters.  I found that difficult when I began writing years ago, but I’ve improved sight unseen.

The other thing that was the norm in the early days of my writing was that I tended to write from the female perspective, or when I did switch to a male there was no discernible difference.  Which made for wooden characters.  Now though, I believe I’m improving my ability to give my characters their own voice.  It’s still not easy and I’m sure most of my narrators still have some of me in them, but I’m trying.  
But the biggest thing is trying to write in the voice of a male.  Without sounding like a female trying to write as a male…if you get my meaning.  I mean, maybe I should just take a leaf out of that author who wrote A Song of Ice and Fire and remind myself that I am writing from the perspective of a person who has wants and needs and desires and goals that are all their own and no one else’s.  And not worry too much about gender, except when it comes to those things only certain genders can do.  If you know what I mean…  
I’m not really sure where I’m going with this, so have one more unnecessary photo of Simple Plan.