It's almost April! The #atozchallenge is coming soon

I kind of woke up to the fact that it's already the end of March and I had better get my butt moving to figure out what I'm doing for the A to Z blogging challenge this year. Well, the poll (now closed) seems to indicate that I should be doing random unrelated flash fiction, and if you remember, I decided that I'm going to be using the last word for each letter in the dictionary as prompts for this year's post. I did cheat a little - for times where the last word happens to be an abbreviation, or a suffix, I used the word directly before it.

So here's my list of words for the month, based on my trusty Oxford from school (oh wait, my brother's Oxford dictionary), 1998 edition:

1. Azure
2. Byzantine
3. Church [edited]
4. Dystrophy
5. Excuses [edited]
6. Fuzzy
7. Gyroscope
8. Hysterical
9. Ivy
10. Juxtapose
11. Kyle
12. Lucky 7 Meme [edited]
13. Myxomatosis
14. Nymphomania
15. Ozone layer
16. Pyx
17. Qwerty
18. Restless [edited]
19. Sleep, don't weep [edited]
20. Tzatziki
21. Uxorious
22. Vying
23. Wysiwyg
24. Xylophone
25. Yuppie
26. Zygote

Say it with me, say it with me... LYSERGIC ACID DIETHYLAMIDE?!?!? >.< Ok you know what, I'm cheating on that one. I'll use the word before that, which is lyricist.

---

I'm really sorry for the long blog silence. A lot of stuff is going on right now which is taking up a lot of time and effort and energy. To keep it simple, here's an update of what's happening in my life, and what's been happening.

1. MY JOB.
Yes, my job has been happening. I'm not a full time writer or blogger, though I wish I could be, and January to June are the busiest periods of my work. It's sad. Because I think I work too hard and I'm already the laziest person in the office. HA! In fact I have another deadline this Friday, which is actually going to be Thursday, because my boss goes on leave on Friday.

2. AUDITIONS
Yes, we've started auditions for our church musical and so that's been taking up time from my writing weekends. It's exciting - even though sometimes I think we're just winging it like crazy. Well, we have to start somewhere, right? This Sunday we'll be having callbacks to firm up the main cast and then practices are going to start.

3. THE SCRIPT!
I know I've been mentioning this for the longest time ever, but I'm still not quite satisfied with the script. I've been touching up scenes here and there, re-working some bits but my main bugbear is I just don't know how to deal with the ending. If you've read my blog long enough, you'll know that I always have problems with endings and closures. I suppose this... is just another revelation of it. Sigh. *help* And yes, it's HELP! indeed, because PRACTICES ARE GOING TO START!

4. A TO Z
As mentioned above, A to Z is starting. On Sunday. I am not prepared.

5. SHORT + SWEET
For the first time ever, there's going to be a Short + Sweet festival in Penang. Or at least the workshops anyway. So I've signed up for that. It's 3-day workshop on 6-8 April, touching on Playwriting, Acting and Directing. There's also a dance stream, but... that's not quite for me.

6. REVOTOUR PENANG
In my everlasting tendency to overextend myself, when my friend Stella from Project Dance said they are doing a dance for RevoTour in May and wanted to make it an interchurch thing, I said yes. So I'm dancing, contrary to that last sentence in #5 above. My only consolation is that there are children. So I am not the only awkward one. But I am the only one without an excuse. Sigh.

7. HEADSTART
Headstart is starting again - a new batch... we're having an introduction lunch this Saturday (31/3/12) at Harvest In Cafe, Irrawady Road, so if you're a fresh grad, or you know a fresh grad, or you want to feel like a fresh grad, or you're confused as to whether you're a fresh grad, do join us... (e-mail me to tell me you're coming) we'll let you know what Headstart is all about and how you can join us. But since I'm writing this anyway, it's a one year discussion group based on the book "Following Jesus in the Real World" by Richard Lamb, aimed at helping fresh grads transition from university / college into the working world. Yes, so e-mail me. Or comment here so that I can e-mail you back.

8. FAITH, LOVE, HOPE...
Is currently on hold. What's that all about? See - I was working on compiling a set of short stories (10 in total) to publish some time in March, but as is evident, I do not have time to actually sit down and write. Well, I have about 5 stories at the moment but this project will definitely have to be on hold for the moment, at least until I settle the script. (Argh, you script! You! Script!) I'm thinking maybe September. Maybe.

There are probably more miscellaneous pies I have my fingers in (I haven't mentioned attempting to exercise, leading worship once a month, actually writing this blog, writing Fireplaces every Sunday, actually watching movies *more than one! gasp*, supporting local theatre and music, oh-gosh-Israel-Houghton-is-going-to-be-in-KL, cell group meetings, WEDDINGS! work, work, and more work) but this blog post is getting too long already - probably in attempt to make up for all the days I haven't been blogging.

This is where you probably shake your head and say, this girl is crazy.
I am.
I need a life.
LOL!

ALSO, in case you were wondering what happened to the book reviews (hah, not as if anyone was reading them, right) I happen to be on a fiction-reading fast for Lent. IT IS A PAIN. But oh, the amount of TIME it frees up. The only thing that really bugs me about this fast is the sudden need to find a dinner partner... I usually just bring my trusty book along.

Okay, so in signing off, I realise that I just gave you guys a bunch of text. Because I am pretty much a text person. But anyways, here's a little picture that keeps me sane:

finish.

and where does your heart lie

that it flies and flutters and wheels around

heading nowhere, somewhere, anywhere

broken.

afraid.

alone.

wishing.

and all you are

is not all you wish to be

and everything

is out of your reach

wash.

rinse.

repeat.

hoping.

but You lived with the end in mind, that on this

broken earth, broken people will destroy You

and You live, knowing that all You are, all You were

will end in one night because of this brokenness

and Your heart breaks because You know there

is no other way, the ransom must be paid

the captives, unworthy as they are, must be free

so You pray, on Your knees, on Your face

willing and hoping that there was another way

but knowing You will do it because love binds You

and justice demands it of You and this is all

and always, Your will be done, is done. It is finished.

how do you deal with death?

it has been six years since you've gone

but I remember, because you live in the digital

and memory

reminds

the words

call out

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Life's brief candle, go out it must

It wasn't you sitting in that wooden box
I couldn't see your smile that rocks

Without your laugh, your flesh is false
No, oh no, you're somewhere else

I guess I'm glad you found your rest
Though it's hard to say that God knows best

but why recall 

you now

except that death

is on my mind

life is beautiful

---

 

Dead man's cell phone - WATCH IT NOW!

I've been a pretty bad blogger this past week, and this is also going to be a quickie. 1. YOU MUST WATCH DEAD MAN'S CELL PHONE. There are only three more runs of this in Penang - Saturday 3pm and 8.30pm and Sunday 3pm. The script is by Sarah Ruhl (you can google it) and it features a very solid cast (Alexis Wong, Sandee Chew, Alvin Looi, Payal Vashist, Amir Yunos, Anrie Too). And they are awesome. It's a 90 minute show, no intermission, so if you're late you'll miss quite a lot. DON'T be Malaysian for this one. Tickets are RM33. Details here. 2. THE HUNGER GAMES *squeal!* Nuff said. :) More when I have time. Or when I can actually sit down without thinking about what I need to do next or where I'm supposed to be. Dance practice at 9.30am tomorrow. Urgh.

#fridayflash: Stupid religion (Edmund)

I don’t know what possessed me, allowing Emily this folly.

The boy is not our flesh and blood. He will never amount to anything. Not with this silly God of his. Dammit. Business is business, and it is my business. What right has he to question my dealings?

Religion is the stupidest thing to ever happen to a human being. He has brains. He’s proven it with his endless string of A’s. But common sense? Pah, it all goes out the window whenever he thinks of that God of his. Why me? He could have been the best successor ever - with his brains and my street smarts, we could have built an empire to last generations.

But no. Business is too dirty for him. I don’t know what he wants. To be a monk? Do they even have that anymore?

Pure folly, this thing with the orphan. Emily is too soft.

But god, I miss Matthew. Now, he was a chip off the old block.

---

First set of auditions was last Sunday, with the next set this Sunday. After that, we'll be having callbacks and then we'll finalise on casting. I don't know if this is what's actually supposed to happen because we're kind of winging it. Whee (not really).

And... all this is happening... when I can't even finalise the ending.
I know, I suck at endings.
But everything just doesn't seem right.

I think my roadblock is I have this super duper impenetrable wall against doing anything remotely "preachy". But sometimes, that is what you need to do. Or not.

fireplace: a common mission, a deeper love

Question: What kind of God would put people through such agony? What kind of God would give you families and then ask you to leave them? What kind of God would give you friends and then ask you to say good-bye?
Answer: A God who knows that the deepest love is build not on passion and romance but on a common mission and sacrifice.
Answer: A God who knows that we are only pilgrims and that eternity is so close that any “Good-bye” is in reality a “See you tomorrow.”
Answer: A God who did it himself.

No Wonder They Call Him Saviour, Max Lucado, pg 21.

Maybe this short snippet caught my attention because that’s what I’ve been writing about. Daniel, the protagonist in our church musical, has lost both his parents. Edmund and Emily Lee have lost their only son. I’ve been delving into loss with this story, curling up around hurt and emotional scars on and off for the past three months. There is a lot of loss, but also a lot of hope, because they find a family in each other - at least Daniel and Emily do.

And yet thinking about it again, maybe what really caught me was that first answer which resonated deep within - that the deepest love is not build on passion and romance but on a common mission and sacrifice. I’ve griped often enough that I’m tired of being single. It hurts to be single sometimes when everyone else seems to have a life partner. It’s tiring when people ask something along the lines of “so when are you going to get one?” as if getting a boyfriend is like browsing on the shelves for an eligible guy and picking one. I’ve liked enough guys in my lifetime but it always comes round to the question of where we’re heading.

As picky as it may sound, I would find it very frustrating to live with someone who does not understand music and who does not understand this overwhelming drive for stories. He doesn’t have to be a musician/singer-songwriter/author/actor/dancer for me to fall in love with him (though any one, or a combination, of those would be awesome), but there must be an ability to appreciate these arts, to get it. There must also be a capacity to work at something to its completion, to sacrifice sleep, to keep pressing on in our craft just because “this was what we were made to do”.

I need him to be the flint, the iron that sharpens iron, the deep that calls out to deep, and I want to be the same for him. But this can only work if we are moving in the same direction, with the same calling.

Oh, I want passion and romance as much as the next girl, but somehow, that’s not enough. I want a life partner with whom I can serve. I want someone who I can partner with in ministry. I’ve always thought that husband/wife teams in ministry are the sweetest thing ever - and also the most effective and powerful.

I know I’ve gone off tangent to what Lucado was trying to say, talking of a ministry that drips with the tears of farewell. I’ve known good-byes. I know impermanence, and the feeling of loss even when there is none. But I also know that He has done this so that there is hope and hellos in our future as well, not only the tears of good-bye.

#fireplace: for the glory of it all

Jeremiah 2:11b (AMP)
But My people have changed their Glory [God] for that which does not profit.

And somewhere in the midst of the dreams, the passion, the pushing on, you have to stop and remember what it’s all for. Because it’s easy to fall into the trap of always wanting more, always wanting the name and the fame, always wanting the glitz and the glam. Then you wake up, with success, but knowing that you’ve still missed it somewhere.

James 4:3(AMP)
[Or] you do ask [God for them] and yet fail to receive, because you ask with wrong purpose and evil, selfish motives. Your intention is [when you get what you desire] to spend it in sensual pleasures.

And maybe because I always second guess myself, always question my motives, sometimes I am still afraid to move on. Even though I have purposed in my heart to go, even though I know why I want to do this, why this is important to me, why I even care, what I believe God is saying about this, there is always this voice that questions:

Do you ask for this mountain purely for yourself?
Do you ask for this because somewhere deep inside, you still desire to be known by man?
Do you ask for this mountain because somewhere inside, you still believe subconsciously that God doesn’t love you enough yet?

So maybe you ask but do not receive, maybe you strive but do not succeed, because you are not yet ready.
But you still press on, because you know He is working in you, and for you.
And His Word does not return void.

---

Re: A to Z blogging challenge -  
I reposted the poll on the sidebar to the left.
Please vote! At current count (on the previous form), I should be writing a new short story series.

#Fridayflash: Emily

Where'd you go?
I miss you so,
Seems like it's been forever,
That you've been gone.
Fort Minor

I don’t know how he let go.

It gratifies me that he calls me mom, but sometimes, I keep seeing him as Matthew. It’s not fair for him. I know that. But I can’t help it.

I merge memories sometimes, enjoying the present with him, but remembering Matthew as a child, remembering his precociousness, his presence, and wanting to share it with him. But he is not Matthew. He will never be Matthew, and I know that.

But I don’t. I can’t. I keep holding on to the past.
I love Daniel, I do. He’s more of a son to me that Matthew ever was. He makes me proud. And I love him I do. But I can’t love him fully. I can’t love him enough because I keep remembering Matthew.

Why can’t I let go?

The Great Singapore Adventure: Part 2!

Continuing where I left off, Saturday morning actually saw us meeting our hosts face-to-face for the first time. For the first two days, both Joshua and Yong May went off to work and to bed so early that we never actually saw them.
I then met Francis for breakfast at Forty Hands, where I was too lazy to take photos, and then hopped across the street to Books Actually. Where I go uber <3<3<3<3<3!

You get stuff like this

In cutesy paper bags

The shop's filled filled with lots of artsy fartsy kind of stuff, and is SHO PWETTY.

But I shall stop fangirling here and tell you if you want to see the rest of the photos, you can check it out on facebook. =)

Since my next appointment with Jo was a little delayed, we hopped on over to Littered with Books, where they had this huge sign saying, no photos allowed. And this was where Stupid transport moment #3 was realised. See I'd been hanging my small little digital camera off my wrist because I was too lazy to bring my huge handbag out. And somewhere between dashing in and out of the taxi in the rain, I'd left my camera behind.
The good part was, Francis called the taxi company and we managed to get it back right before I rushed onto the MRT to meet Jo at Bugis (again). THANK YOU FRANCIS!

The dashing Mr Cheah, checking out some deep, philosophical books. Or something.

Okay, so back to Jo and Bugis, our plans were nearly cancelled because of the rain, but after lunch we decided to brave the drizzle anyway. A map reading error made us start walking in the wrong direction, but it was worth it because we passed by a second-hand bookstore where I got these for only SGD5:

Meh, I can't read this until after Easter.

And after a long trek back in semi-drizzle, we finally reached Haji Lane!

And because I am this crazy person who meets multiple people at multiple time slots, I hopped over to Holland Village after this excursion to meet up with Timothy Liu, where he treated me to Katong Laksa and Singaporean otak-otak. This was followed by a little driving tour around Singapore and then he dropped me off at Haw Par Villa as he had to take his son for swimming class.

So Haw Par Villa was an unexpected find, because well, I didn't know anything about it. But if any of you have ever used Tiger Balm in your life, you have these two guys to thank for it:

It's free entry, and has all these educational bill boards and depictions of Chinese legends. And I realised something sucky about myself - I know a lot about Greek and Roman mythology, but next to nothing about Chinese mythology. Maybe it's because they don't write exciting Chinese myths in English. Or maybe they do, but I'm already biased against it so I never pick it up to read. I don't know.

Then it was off to Vivocity, for dinner with our hosts... and now that I'm blogging about it, this feels like a bit of an overkill in just one day. I'm crazy. Meh. So final picture for the post:

Me, Yong May, Joshua and Edrian

Nothing much happened on Sunday except that we were late for church (back to FCBC at Expo) and missed the entire worship session by Israel Houghton. :( I still blame Edrian for talking too much. HAHAHAHA. But the sermon was good.

And finally, the great Singapore adventure came to an end. I shall do this again soon.

#atozchallenge: what should I write this year?

Okay, so I signed up for the Blogging from A to Z challenge again this year (#atozchallenge on twitter). This is basically a challenge where you write a post every day except Sundays during April, with each post titled sequentially from A to Z. This kicks off on April 1st, which is the only Sunday for which we'll write a post.

Last year, I wrote a short story series at my old blog here and I'm wondering if I should do something similar this year, or if I should write a series of unrelated fiction, or if I should do posts on other themes, like say books, or blogs, or... I don't know.

The deal is, if I do write fiction, instead of waiting for alphabet prompts, or having to hunt for the right word, I've decided that I will just take the last word in the dictionary for each alphabet. Now I haven't actually picked up my Oxford to check what those words will be... so I suppose that will be part of the challenge!

#fireplace: Give me this mountain

The question sometimes really is how much do you want it? How much do you want this change you keep talking about, dreaming about, quarrelling over? How far are you willing to go? How dirty are you willing to get?

Dreams aren’t made of shimmering fairy clouds, castles in the air. They’re made out of blood and sweat and tears - how far are you willing to go for this dream of yours?

It was a passing comment in last week’s sermon, but Pastor Doug Norwood mentioned the passage about the lame man who was waiting at the pool called Bethesda for the angel to stir up the waters of healing.

John 5:6-7
When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”
“Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.”

That’s what we do, isn’t it? When someone asks us how much we want something, we end up giving excuses about why we don’t have it, or can’t.

And then Dr Peter Daniels, in yesterday’s sermon, mentions Caleb and how at 85 years of age, he says, “Now therefore, give me this mountain”. Give me this mountain. Let me take it up as my challenge, as my right, as mine. It won’t be easy. It’s a mountain. It’s a giant. But it’s mine for the taking.

Joshua 14:12
Now therefore, give me this mountain of which the Lord spoke in that day; for you heard in that day how the Anakim were there, and that the cities were great and fortified. It may be that the Lord will be with me, and I shall be able to drive them out as the Lord said.”

—

So give me this mountain.
Give me the impossible sphere of performance arts that nobody understands.
Give me the dance that draws Your Spirit to hover over our assembly in worship.
Liberate my feet, loose my hands, pour forth the words that speak Life.
I am hungry.

The Great Singapore Adventure!

In lieu of a #fridayflash post, I shall regale you with the adventures of Anna in Singapore!

Thursday started off with a bit of a mad rush to the airport because of the early morning jam. Eeks. The flight was smooth - in fact, we landed early, and I spent the two-ish hours waiting for Edrian's flight from KL to arrive re-reading KaSonndra's book When Copper Suns Fall so that I could finally get round to writing the review (which, incidentally is finally up here).

Edrian took about an hour to get out of the airport and clear immigration, so I was kind of glad that I decided on the peach tart and iced chocolate I had earlier. Hopped on the bus to Terminal 2 then caught the MRT into town and got distracted fiddling around with bluetooth keyboards so much so that we totally missed the announcement that we were supposed to switch trains at the Tanah Merah station. We only realised this when I heard an announcement saying "Next station - Changi Airport". The conductor comes out from the end of the train and looks at us funny because everyone else has disembarked so we asked if we were actually supposed to change at Tanah Merah, to which he confirms yes, we were. So that was half an hour wasted going up and down the tracks: Stupid transport moment #1. The rest of the trip to Yong May's apartment on Depot Road was pretty uneventful, thanks to the very awesomely detailed instructions she e-mailed us on how to get there.

Cassandra, whom I met in Project Dance, graciously picked us up from there via taxi where she and her friend Michelle treated us to a lovely dinner and desserts at Raffles City. Thank you, girls!

Michelle, Cass, me. Photo stolen from Edrian's facebook.

Then we took the MRT down to the main reason we were in Singapore!

 For which I took crappy photos in the beginning, just for the heck of it.

I pretty much enjoyed it, until Edrian and the oh-so-musical-guys started bitching at the end about how the sound wasn't that great, and all they did was what they already they did in youtube, and how the musicians weren't the good ones they saw on youtube and were probably team B, and how Israel doesn't really connect with the crowd, etc. I mean, the only gripe I had before that was that I couldn't really hear the backing vocals, which I was keen on catching because ohgoshtheyalwayshavesuchintricateharmonies. Urgh. But you know how negative comments just stick? Okay, gripe number 2 would probably be that the expo hall was flat, so I couldn't see anything much anyways, but at any rate, I went there with the intention that it would be a great worship concert and if it's a worship concert, well it doesn't matter if you can't see the singers. Mini epiphany (not really) on the fact that I'm beginning to depend too much on hype, especially in worship, to be able to worship, and how I should really be concentrating on that still small voice, but that's a post for another day.
Followed the Metro Tabernacle people for frog porridge at Geylang after that, which was pretty yummy, though I was dead tired. On the taxi ride back, Edrian fell asleep and I was zoning out a little, which resulted in the taxi stopping a little further than he should have, so we had to walk. A bit. More.

So I get annoyed with people who say they'll do one thing but then don't, so Friday started with a bit of a what-the-heck moment because Edrian's friend who was supposed to pick us up, forgot. This led to Stupid transport moment #2, where he misread the bus number, leading to us miscounting the number of stops, so we got down from bus 195 at some random bus stop and wondered where the Tiong Bahru Market is. We asked a random passerby how long it took to walk to the market, whereby he gave us a funny look (again!) and said that it's really far, at least 4 bus stops away. So we waited for the next bus. And it really was quite far away.
At any rate, we managed to have breakfast, and then the guys were all agog about going to this here place:

Which was a bit of heaven for them, but pretty boring for me after awhile, because they spent THREE HOURS deciding on what bass guitar to buy. It was a Hartke. For SGD730, or thereabouts.

Got stopped after two quick shots because apparently we can't take pictures. Meh.

Random koi pond at Suntech City Mall

Hopped to Suntech City Mall after that for lunch and a bit of a walk around before I went off and left the guys behind to meet Anne in Bugis.

3D art!

We caught a shot of the 3D art thing (which wasn't half as impressive as I thought it would be) and I got tricked into thinking that the Shaw Theatre in this artsy-fartsy place would be an actual theatre instead of a movie theatre. Ah, wishful thinking.

You is tricked me....

This is La Salle school of performing arts. ARGH SO PRETTY!

Accidentally bumped into Shari and Jim at Singapore Plaza (I think that's what it's called? Or Plaza Singapore?) which was pretty good because I didn't get to meet them otherwise. =(

HELLO HWAS! And Anne :)

Actually managed to catch 3/4 of the Hwa siblings in Singapore too! I think it's the first time I've met all of them in the same place, excepting Yue-Yi who's in the UK, but then again I meet her more often than the others. Err actually, I think except for Wei-An who was in Project Dance for 3 days I probably met Hui-En only once, and I'm not sure if I did (or did not) actually ever meet Shi-Hsia in real life. Maybe at a NSCF camp, but I'm not sure.

To be continued...

#bookreview: When Copper Suns Fall by KaSonndra Leigh

When Copper Suns Fall by KaSonndra Leigh
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Micah Prizeon has been in a coma for a year, a tragic fall weakening him enough to allow the deadly glutovirus to take over his body. Fifteen-year-old Chela, his twin sister, is certain that the fall was no accident and vows to find the cause before his life support is pulled and his body used for medical testing. Set in an America (now called the Nation of Corunum) devastated by the wars between angelic groups, Chela must also find a way to hide the outlawed celestial powers burgeoning in her before she too is sent away.

When Copper Suns Fall, KaSonndra Leigh’s debut novel, was an enjoyable read. Chela, the main protagonist, is easy to identify with - a somewhat impulsive, naive teen, struggling to keep her head up in overwhelming circumstances, loyal to a fault and trying her best to keep all her loved ones safe from harm.

What's the mysterious link between Faris, her Caducean Protector and co-Champion, and Seth Alton, the brooding Thoughtmaster that Chela suspects is Tainted? Who exactly was Chela’s mother, and what dark family secrets have gone with her to the grave? Who can she really trust?

Although the pacing could have been improved a little - the dearth of information in the beginning was somewhat made up by a barrage of it towards the end, with lots of unexpected revelations - it sets you up to wonder what happens to Faris and how the whole problem with the Beast will be resolved. (I have my theories on that, but we'll see.)

Book two should be an interesting read.

Overall, I'd give this book 3.5 stars.

Notes:
I received this e-book as a review copy from the author.


View all my reviews

#fridayflash: Dreams

The first thing Diane asked me when she found me was, “Are you going back?”
I didn’t know what to say. What was there to go back for? Mr. Lee had made it very clear that I wasn’t wanted. To think I had called the man ‘dad’ for a couple of years.
“Your mom misses you,” she said.
I found looking down, at the floor, at the walls, anywhere but her.
“Oh come on. Admit that you miss her too.”
Mrs. Lee. Mom. Well, I did at that. “Maybe,” I found myself saying.
“What are you doing here anyway?”
I could feel a blush rising from my neck to my cheeks as she gazed around the little coffee shop we were in.
“Working. Doing what I would have been doing three years ago if it hadn’t been for… mom,” I said, a little more brusquely than I had intended.
“I shouldn’t disturb you then. When do you get off?”
“We close at eleven. I… I’ll meet you at the park at midnight.”
She nodded, smiled, and left, leaving a churning in my chest.
I don’t really know why I had been so keen on chasing her away. It was pretty slow in the shop. Whatever few customers there already had their drinks and there hadn’t been any traffic in for a while. My two colleagues were just hanging out at the counter, chatting. They were looking at me curiously now.
“She’s really pretty, wei,” Li said, poking me in the ribs. “Your girlfriend ah?”
“So high class, you think can meh?” Siang said, shaking his head.
“Eh, he also quite high class wan mah. Look at him,” Li retorted.
I just shook my head, ignoring their comments. It was a good question, really. How did I ever think that Diane would ever like me? She was the true rich kid, the one who had everything. I was the replacement kid who never quite fit in. Midnight at the park. That would be interesting.

She was sitting on the same bench I always sat on. Funny thing - she was usually the one who used to sneak up on me from behind whilst I threw my questions into the void. Now she was sitting at my spot, gazing up at the stars in the sky and I was the one sneaking up on her. I stood for a while, watching her hair blow in the soft breeze. I must have made a sound, because she turned to look at me.
"Hello."
"That's all you can say?" she nodded me over.
We sat in silence for a long while.
"No questions for your god today?"
It didn't sound like it was said with much sarcasm, but it hurt anyway. I found myself shrugging wordlessly. Maybe I was angry at God, but I found that I didn't really want to ask Him anything. What was the point? I'd asked why He had taken away my family, and He put me in a new one. I asked why I was put into a family and a place where I obviously didn't fit, and in one dramatic moment, I was pulled out of it. On my own volition, I'll admit. Maybe that wasn't the God part. Maybe that was all me.
So I found my question.
"Was it me, God? Was all that mess actually my own doing? Could it be that I was meant to stay?"
"I thought you didn't want that kind of acceptance," Diane said, cutting through my thoughts.
"I... I don't. But... I don't know, Diane. I used to understand, or at least I thought I did. I'm just confused now."
"Welcome to the rest of the world."
"You don't believe in God, do you?"
"I know you do."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's supposed to be your grand opening to tell me all about your god and why I should believe in him."
"What?"
She laughed. "Don't mind me, Dan. I’m just goading you. I just want you to go back to the fiery old you."
"The fiery..."
"You know, when you'd go up in blazes defending your God, defending all your beliefs. You're just... you just give this hopeless vibe right now. Like you're lost."
"Maybe I am."
She looked sad when I said that. I don't know why.
"So what are you going to do from here? Continue working at that shop?"
I tried to see if she was sneering at me, but her face was serious and just a little worried.
"There's no future there. Besides, with your grades you could get a scholarship anywhere you wanted."
I shrugged.
“You’ve got to live for something, Daniel. You can’t just drift. I always thought you were the high-flier. You were the one with a dream, with a purpose, with a passion. I used to envy you, wishing I could be that strong.”
“And I’ve let you down.” It was true. I could see it in her eyes, now that I’d figured out where she was coming from. “Diane.”
She stared at me expectantly as I fumbled for words.
“Would you have ever dated a loser like me?”
“Don’t you ever call yourself that! You are not a loser.”
"I am now. Look where I’ve ended up.”
“Don’t be silly, Daniel! You have the rest of your life before you. You never answered my question. Are you going back?”
“You haven’t answered mine. Would you?”
“Yes.” It was soft, sibilant, disappearing into the wind. I found myself grasping her fingers in mine, not remembering when I had caught them up.
“Then wait for me. I will be back. In time.”

The gravel crunched under my feet as I walked away from her, from the park, from the neighbourhood I once lived in. I didn’t owe them anything. The dreams were mine, not theirs, and I would chase them. One day, I will find my way home again.

fireplace: centre me

I have, and have had for many years, a little plaything, a toy, something I like to consider and something which sparks off ideas in me. It is simply two circles of heavy copper wire linked together like two links of a chain. I play with this so often that at times I am quite unaware that I have it in my hands. On one occasion I was holding it so the circles stood at right angles to each other.
Anna pointed to one of the circles and said, “I know what that is - that’s me. And that’s Mister God,” she said, pointing to the other. “Mister God goes right through my middle and I go right through Mister God’s middle.”
And that’s how it was. Anna had grasped that her proper place was in God’s middle and that God’s proper place was in her middle.
Mister God, This is Anna, by Fynn.

Some days you just wish that faith could be that simple. That you could just grasp that God goes right through your middle, cutting through everything else.
Because something is askew here, something is off balance.
Too many things crowd out the remembrance that somewhere in your centre, there is someone, waiting to pull all things together, waiting to consolidate your life, to bring things back into balance.

So cut through to my centre. Pull things back into perspective. Make the world spin away, fall away like dust. Enfold me in Your spirit, Your love, Your presence.
Still these juggling balls, these many hats, these many faces, bringing them into orbit around You.
Remind me it’s Your face I seek, not the fame around me. That it’s Your voice that cuts through these hearts, not mine. That it’s Your words that matter, not the little I have to say.
Remind me that it’s everything to do with You and Your glory.
Then let me glory in You.

—

Jesus at the centre of it all
Jesus at the centre of it all
From beginning to the end
It will always be
It’s always been you Jesus
Jesus 

This is a filler post, with writing, blood, food and music

It's been a crazy January and first week of February, with lotsa work deadlines, Chinese New Year and then the manic I-must-finish-this-script session. So this is what's been happening the since... since the last time I actually blog-blogged.

Update #1:
I FINISHED THE SCRIPT! YAY!
I totally hate the ending. Boo.
But I kinda like the emo bits. Haha. 
It's out with a few dramatic friends (lol) to critique so that they can tell me that it really sucks (I know that already) and the rest of the team so that they can figure out how to make it work better. And we're also waiting on our song writer to finish the songs *hint AGAIN*. So I'm putting it aside for the moment to concentrate on the book reviews I've been supposed to write. Supposing I do have the time in between the backlog at work, trying to write, trying to sleep, trying to stay sane and all that.

Update #2:
Just for the heck of it, THESE ARE MY KNEES:

Fresh

Scabbing

Because silly old me can't walk straight. You may now commisserate with me or just laugh your head off. That's what everyone in the parking lot did anyway.

Update #3:
I went on a food trip! Sorta. 
Okay, first off, I'm not much of a foodie. I don't take like a gazillion pictures of the food I'm about to eat or discuss the taste, presentation and what-nots of food. I mean, food is food, is food. You eat it. You like it or you don't. I don't drive to the next state just to eat food that I can get down the road, even if it's so much nicer in the next state. You get the drift.
At any rate, I was feeling bored and a little restless and I had finished up most of the script on Monday and was left with the last two scenes so I decided to follow the guys on their little Pulau Aman* excursion for seafood on Tuesday.
Surprisingly there was very little traffic heading out of Tanjung Bunga** to the Penang Bridge and out of the island as well despite it being Thaipusm (yay!). We cut out from the highway at Tambun, discussed the merits of the Claypot Crabs at Cai Xiang and set off to find the Pulau Aman jetty via some unknown-brand GPS. We found ourselves heading uphill via a very tiny track and figured something must be wrong before realising that we were actually heading up to a Celcom signal tower. Like, what?
Anyway, retracing our route, we saw finally saw a sign pointing us to the jetty. We took a short boat ride (abt 5 mins) over to the island.

The main point of this trip?

Fresh off the nets

Right into our tummies!

Okay, so it looks pretty gross this way, but it was delish! You take the scissors to cut off the butt (and for me, the head, cos it looks gross - the guys ate the heads!) and slit it along the side so you can pull off the shell and eat the lovely steamed meat inside. These are mantis prawns, by the way, just so you know. Oh and if you're looking for prices, these were mid-sized ones sold at RM40/kg. We picked 10 prawns*** which came up to RM48, and RM4 charge for steaming.
We had mee udang**** too, but it was nothing spectacular.
More pictures by Yuen Thern on FB. But I don't know if his album is public. 

Update #4:
I'm going to watch ISRAEL HOUGHTON live in Singapore NEXT THURSDAY!

WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, it's past bedtime. I think you can tell.



* Peace Island, or maybe, Peaceful Island.
** Cape of Flowers. That's where I live! 
*** 10 ekor? tails? hahaha
**** prawn noodles

fireplace: Dissatisfied contentment

For the Word that God speaks is alive and full of power [making it active, operative, energising, and effective]; it is sharper than any two-edged sword, penetrating to the dividing line of the [a]breath of life (soul) and [the immortal] spirit, and of joints and marrow [of the deepest parts of our nature], exposing and sifting and analysing and judging the very thoughts and purposes of the heart.
Hebrews 4:12 (AMP)

Paul is dissatisfied, not complacent, always moving forward, yet he experiences deep contentment. This dissatisfaction is not a restlessness of spirit, of a person moping about wondering what his life is for. This dissatisfaction is one of motion: he moves forward out of deep inner motivation to draw ever nearer to his Lord Jesus, but the abiding emotion is joy.
…We experience a “satisfied discontent,” a complacency of spirit that leads to inertia and stagnation, coupled with an inability to experience joy or deep contentment. We are not dissatisfied enough to press on toward the goal, but we are not content with our lot either.
Following Jesus in the “Real World” (Richard Lamb)

There are days when I find myself in a strange place. There’s so much more to push on for, so much more to yearn for, so much more to grab at, and yet at the same time there’s this voice that says, are you pushing on, yearning for, grabbing at only for yourself? Or is this something deeper?

Maybe I get a little too introspective sometimes. I tend to over-analyse my thoughts, over-think my actions, wondering if what I’m doing is really for God, or really for myself. Nobody else I know seems to have hang-ups about this.

I’m restless. I admit this. I’ve admitted this many times. I’ve said many times that it’s time to move on, it’s time to go. But at the same time, there’s this sense that I don’t know if the time is right yet. There’s no clarity of what’s next. Wait - let me redefine that. I know what’s next. There’s just no clarity in how that “what’s next” is going to come about. What does it look like? What is its form?

I want to be a writer, yes. But why do I want to write? Is it only for the sheer joy of words? Yes, it sometimes is. Is it for the fame and notoriety of having my words in print? Yes, truthfully it is. For all the fun I have in writing, what’s the point if no one reads it? Is it to glorify God? Truthfully, this is the one question that sometimes gets crowded out of the equation.

Yesterday, Pastor Isaac said to not do anything until you are sure. But this begs the question, when are you ever sure? What if it’s your own inertia, your own distrustfulness and over-thinking that is making you hold back?

Backtracking over the many times I’ve said this (and the end of last) year that it’s about time to leave, I’ve told myself before that when I do leave, I will leave in a place of victory. I will not leave in a position of defeat, or where I am doing less than I am able. This is not where I am now, and to leave now would be a capitulation to the stresses of my job. I admit I have been distracted by the many things I want to do, but it’s up to me to find that balance again, and for God to make a way.

Depending who I talk to, I’m mainly content right now, but still dissatisfied, still wanting more. And yet at the same time, I’m also satisfied in my dissatisfaction, as if where I am, this limbo I feel, is alright by me. But it shouldn’t be. It’s a difficult balance to find, this strange tension, where you can truly say I am joyful in the Lord, and still know that there is more to be had.

---

Sorry for the lack of posts in the recent week. I have been caught up at work (boo).
A few book reviews will hopefully be up this week and next, as well as updates on the script! =)

fireplace: Raymond Feist's Macros and why God doesn't seem to act

In Raymond E. Feist’s The Darkness at Sethanon, Macros, Tomas and Pug are travelling the Hall between worlds, trying desperately to get back to their world in time to save it from the Dragon Host when Macros drops the bomb that bringing back the Valheru, Ashen-Shugar, as Tomas was a desperate risk - almost as dangerous as the Dragon Host itself. He goes on to say, “There is no single being, save the gods, who could oppose him.”

“Then,” said Pug, “why haven’t the gods acted?”
Macros laughed, a bitter sound, and waved at all four of them. “What do you think we’re doing here? That is the game. And we are the pieces.”

Isn’t that what we do all the time? Blame God because things aren’t working out? Saying there is no God because of the way the world is right now? 
Where is the evidence of God? If he were real, why are people sick, suffering, hurting, dying? Why are there earthquakes and disasters and tsunamis? Why is there war and genocide? Starvation and waste? Why doesn’t this world make sense? Why are there abused children? Why is there evil?
And yet at the same time, the reason we are here, the reason we remain is to be His hands and feet.

Interestingly, an echoing thought was quoted in church yesterday, from Blaise Pascal:

Through prayer God gives humankind the dignity of limited causality.

Why doesn’t God act?
Because we aren’t. 

#fridayflash: Matthew

I never liked Matt much. He was brash, cocky, insufferable. But he was Rob’s second. I guess that counted for a lot because that was probably why I consented to date him a couple of weeks before he died. I would have liked to think that he was being reckless because I dumped him, but that’s just crap. He was always reckless. Well, it definitely wasn’t depression or some secret death wish. Matt thought too much of himself for that. He was more likely trying to prove me wrong because I told him he was a spineless little idiot. Which he was.

Our little gang consisted of Robert, Matthew, Brian, Elizabeth and me. Frankly, in most cases you wouldn’t be far wrong to think that Matt was our leader. He was always the one out there making the statements, being obnoxious and, in some cases, getting us out of trouble with his fast talking. You could say he was our public face.

If you put Rob and Matt head-to-head, they’d probably come out pretty even, except that Rob had brains and used them. He was saucy, of course, but he knew when to keep his head down. That’s why he stayed in charge. Matt just liked to be the centre of attention, even if it got him into unnecessary trouble. He only did things he thought would impress the people he looked up to. I know. I dated him, remember? So what if it was only for a week? You learn a lot about a person in a week of close contact. He was always worrying about what Rob thought about him, checking out of the corner of his eye whether he had Rob’s approval. Hell, I was his girlfriend, he should have been looking for my approval. Ask him to do anything when no one was watching, he’d just scowl at you and say it wasn’t worth his time.

But anyway, Rob thought highly of him. So when Matt asked me out I said I’d give it a try. I figured the boss must have seen something in him to make him his second, right? I did warn him upfront that I didn’t like him much but he could give his best shot to persuade me otherwise. He started off by bragging about all himself. Like how he cheated on his tests to get his perfect scores. And how rich daddy was. And how he’d had just about every girl in our class already. Way to turn on the new girlfriend, no? We were fourteen. I told him to his face that he was lying. He asked me to prove him wrong. I pointed out that he barely talked to any of the girls in class and never had. “Don’t need to talk to have sex,” he said. “You need to talk to invite them out first,” I replied. He just brushed me off and went on about the fights he had won. I don’t know. You want a guy to be manly and macho, but that doesn’t necessarily translate into him picking fights, right? Especially since he was normally bigger than them.

So when Rob wanted to do something I didn’t want to, I thought why not just tell Matt to ask him to change his plans just once? I mean, they were tight, weren’t they? He stared at me as if my brains were oozing out of my ears and said, “I could never betray Rob.” I was thinking, betray? What were they - lovers? So I told him forget it. If he was such a loser I would be better off dating Rob than him, right? Why settle for second best? Dumped him.

Week after that, he goes off on some crazy dare and dashed across the busiest road in town. I think he likely gave the poor truck driver a heart attack. He survived that one. I started to think it was high time I stopped hanging out with these nut jobs. A week later, while I’m still figuring out how to make my grand exit, he climbs up to the roof of our four-storey school building because Rob says he’s chicken. The boy doesn’t have sense. He just took the dare, slipped off and it’s lights out.

For a while after that everyone was tip-toeing about Rob as if he was so fragile because his best friend had died in a freak accident. You know the craziest part? Rob never shed a tear for him. 

---

So there's progress on the musical script, still tentatively named "Daniel". We really need a better name, but I suck at names. Meh. Played around with Stage32 and put up the project just for the heck of it. Check it out here. Status is, I've fleshed out the adoptive parents a little bit, and worked on Scene 3 where Daniel gets sent to the dead boy's elite, rich kid school. Couldn't keep calling him "dead boy" or "ex son" so I christened him Matthew, or Matt. This works out into a song and dance about what Matt used to be like and why Daniel doesn't measure up and because they're a rowdy bunch of kids, Daniel gets roughed up, leading to Scene 4 where Dad goes, this never happened with MY son. Or something like that.
Then I figured, I really have no idea who Matt is (not like I know that much about Daniel either), so I got one of the girls in the gang, Diane, to pick him apart. Diane sounds likely to be sympathetic to Daniel because he stands up for what he believes in, which is the opposite of what she hated about Matt. Maybe will work that out a wee bit in Scene 5. Scene 5 will be the closure for the first act, I hope, with some kind of truce between who he's supposed to be and who they want him to be. I don't know how much resolution I should put in yet. You kind of want something of a cliff hanger or a touching thing right before intermission, right?

Now if Daniel Chan Sr, our wonderful songwriter, will get round to giving me some music and lyrics, that might really help the progress of the script. I currently have blocks of areas that go "Cue song: [random title]. This should talk about xxxxx and lead up to xxxxx". *cue major HINT here* I'm thinking of penning some lyric ideas in, but I don't really know how to work that out.

tong terongtong chiang! Revealing... Oracle!

Hoookay. So first of all! Happy Chinese New Year! A pleasant reminder *ahem* to those of you who are married *ahem* to give me angpow!

Explanations? Well... it's the first day of the Chinese calendar (self-evident, right?) and tradition is that married couples will give children, including unmarried juniors (I'm younger than you, definitely), an angpow (red packet) containing money. YES MONEY. Give me your email address, I will give you my paypal account for you to transfer me some cash. ;)

So ANYWAY, not really in line with CNY (the above was a side-track), I present to you...

The ORACLE Cover Reveal Mystery Tour!

As the countdown begins, the body count rises.

With London gearing up to host the Olympics, the city doesn’t need a serial killer stalking the streets. They’ve got one anyway.

Leaving a trail of brutal and bizarre murders, the police are no closer to finding their latest murderer than Detective Inspector Kurt Lancer is in finding a solution for his daughter’s disability.

Thrust into the pressure cooker of a high profile case, the struggling single parent is wound tight as he tries to balance care of his own family with the safety of a growing population of potential next victims.
 

One of whom could be his own daughter.

Fingers point in every direction as the public relations nightmare grows, and Lancer’s only answer comes in the form of a single oak leaf left at each crime scene.

So, it's a mystery story, right? And it's a mystery tour, right? SO there's a mystery attached to this very special cover reveal, one that YOU, the reader, must solve - in return for a $20 Amazon voucher! Head on over to the Mystery Tour headquarters here to find out more...

---

About J.C. Martin 

J.C. Martin is a butt-kicking bookworm: when she isn’t reading or writing, she teaches martial arts and self-defence to adults and children.
After working in pharmaceutical research, then in education as a schoolteacher, she decided to put the following to good use: one, her 2nd degree black belt in Wing Chun kung fu; and two, her overwhelming need to write dark mysteries and gripping thrillers with a psychological slant.
Her short stories have won various prizes and have been published in several anthologies. Her debut novel, Oracle, will be released by J. Taylor Publishing on July 30th, 2012.
Born and raised in Malaysia, J.C. now lives in south London with her husband and three dogs.

#fridayflash: Water dragon

It was smaller than she expected, roughly about the size of a big dog. It stared at her with liquid eyes, a deep blue against its baby blue form.

“You… are a dragon?” she asked.

“Yes,” it seemed to bristle.

“But, you’re so small, and… transparent.”

It heaved a great sigh, “It’s not my fault I’m a dwarf.”

The statement refused to wrap itself around Cassandra’s brain. “You’re a dragon, aren’t you? Not a dwarf? Those have beards, right?”

“Yes. I’m a dragon. Something went wrong with my genes somewhere, so I can’t get any bigger. It’s called dwarfism.”

“You’re not a baby dragon?”

“I am eight hundred and eighty eight years old,” it grumbled, “and you ask me this? To answer the rest of your unspoken questions, I am male, as far as you humans understand it, and I am semi-transparent because of my nature.”

“Nature?”

“I am a water dragon,” he said, shaking his mane a little, “and as water goes, it’s never entirely solid. Well - except when it turns into ice, which will only happen when I’m dead.”

“When you die you turn into ice? Like a sculpture?”

“Kids these days…” the dragon mumbled to himself. “Get on with it then.”

“Get on with what?”

“Whatever it was you summoned me for. Or do you mean to say that you made me come all the way here for nothing?”

“I didn’t… exactly… well. Oh, I did, didn’t I? I… I don’t know what I did.”

“Did you or didn’t you?”

“I’m not entirely sure. How did I summon you?”

“You wished me into existence.”

“I - I was only dreaming.”

“Fine. So if you need nothing from me, I’ll be going then. A lot of things to do back home you know, with this new year coming and all that.”

“Oh yes, I know. It’s - it’s your year, isn’t it?”

He seemed to shrug irritably; impatiently.

“Sorry to have disturbed you then. Really sorry.”

“There is something you want, isn’t there? Ask. I don’t have all day.”

“May I touch you?” she said, immediately following her question with “what’s your name?”

“Yes, and no, I won’t tell you.”

Cassandra stretched out her tiny chubby fingers towards the dragon, touching the cold, slippery scales. He was beginning to fade out of her sight, but with a sudden glance at her, he shrugged a little, allowing the scale she was touching to slide down.

“Keep it. It may bring you luck.”

She caught the shiny thing in her hand, gazing at it in wonder. By the time she looked up, he was gone.

“Thank you, dragon!” she called into the emptiness before her. The sky seemed to wink.

---

Well, this was meant to be Fridayflash, except that by the time I got the time to sit down and write past the first paragraph, it was already Saturday. Night. (No fever).
I find dragons fascinating, especially the fact that there are so many different kinds of them.
There's the dragons, called up by imagination, from Terry Pratchett's The Colour of Light. Well, I think it was that one, or at least the next. Also, the fire-breathing ones that Sam Vimes' wife (I forget her name? Lady something) breeds.
There are the dragons in Ursula Le Guin's Earthsea series, who straddle between two worlds, where their name summons them, where the Word is Power.
There is Smaug from Tolkien's The Hobbit, drawing on old lore of fire-breathing dragons who hoard gold, protecting their soft underbellies with a coat of jewels and gold.
And there are the dragons in Christopher Paolini's Eragon series, bonded to humans and elves, almost wiped out. Murdered.
And there are the dragons in Robin Hobb's Rain Wild Chronicles, contrasting with the stone dragons in the Farseer trilogy.
And in older lore still, the slaying of the dragon, a feat for the knights in shining armour.

And in almost all these stories, varied by the ways the writers have imagined them, these dragons are huge, immense, vast. They breathe fire, and their morality is not our own. They are wise and crafty. Sometimes they are beyond morality, living past the human limitations of good and evil. And you never, ever gaze a dragon in the eye.
Lore, how I love thee.
And I much prefer Western Dragons to Chinese ones, because they have huge impressive wings. Shallow, I know.
Waiting for this to come out in Feb. Not sure when it will hit our shores. And another long wait for the paperback. Sigh.