Author: Frances

On death

I interrupt myself from asking a friend if she thinks someone would die if they fell down the hill behind her house to ask instead;

“Do you think I’m morbid?”

“Yes. But I like that about you.”

When critiquing another writers stories I often ask whether characters I dislike are going to die. I cheer when they kill off characters.

I have a strange idea that I’m only going to live till 41. I have no idea why. Perhaps because Jane Austen died at 41. A friends response to this was;

“I’m 41. That’s not old.”

I’ve dated guys older than him. I know 41 isn’t old. But, for the moment at least, that feels like my use-by date.

A friend is turning 70 next month. This is a huge milestone for him as his father died at 69, his grandfather didn’t make 70 either and, he’s worried he won’t make it.

A couple of years ago I started watching the Ask a Mortician YouTube series. This changed the way I view death. I used to be scared of it. Now I recognise it’s inevitable, it’s what happens to all of us, it’s how we all end. To be honest I’m looking forward to it. To me it seems like a big sleep and I need one of those.

I’m not saying I put myself in dangerous situations. My body was not impressed when I went sky diving, it was several months before it trusted me again. I don’t want to piss my body off so I don’t put it in situations it’s uncomfortable with. You may notice I talk about my body separately. My mind was calm, even during free fall; I only screamed when I remembered that’s what you were supposed to do. After the parachute opened I asked the instructor in a normal voice;

“How long till we’re on the ground? I would prefer to be on the ground, please.”*

I’m not a thrill seeker. I don’t even like scary movies. I appreciated when a friend, seeing I was nervous about the fate of characters on screen, leaned over to tell me;

“It’s OK. They don’t die.”

Last year I wrote my will. I don’t have a significant other or anyone I can rely on to take care of things for me when I die. I think this year I may plan my funeral to make it easier for my sister who is the executor of my will.

I found a natural burial cemetery in Wellington and funeral homes who specialise. I intend to investigate further, I will keep you posted.

*Even when fearing death I am extremely polite

Some days I’m an arsehole

I am almost always sleep deprived. I have trouble sleeping and my neighbours wake me each morning (they work the early shift). Despite this, my natural setting is still pretty positive; I’m polite, I smile at people and, allow them room. But there are days when I’m an arsehole.

Yesterday I was caught behind a truck going 40km/hr in a 100km/hr zone. Once I got out from behind that truck I drove like an arsehole the rest of the way to my destination. Some times I’m day dreaming, going slower than the speed limit, and there is a car riding my arse; maybe we’re both being an arsehole in that situation. But once I realise I either speed up or move out of the way to put the poor bugger out of his misery. I don’t intend to be an arsehole.

About a month ago, on public transport, I politely asked a woman to turn off the sound on her cellphone. I dislike confrontation so it was a big deal for me. Her response was abusive.  I don’t think she realised her phone noises were effecting other people. She was bursting my bubble of personal space but my pointing this out to her probably burst her bubble too.

In the last year or two the population of Wellington has increased noticeably. There are more people on the trains, walking on the streets, more cars on the road. On the New York Subway I noticed that unless it’s peak hour people are so considerate, or maybe mistrusting of others, they will stand rather than take an empty seat next to another person. To maintain a happy community we need to recognise when we’re being an arsehole and correct ourselves.

This piece is partly in response to The Same Standard Distribution of Asshats by Richard Parry and Not Everyone is an Asshole by J. C. Hart (note that I use the British spelling arsehole rather than asshole)

Word Christchurch

It would have been great to write about Word Christchurch while it was still fresh in my mind but I had a busy week. After a full weekend away I had a lot to catch up on, plus I had a bit of a cold, then I met someone wonderful, and I had work, and other work, and life in general. So here is my post on Word Christchurch a week later.

My motivator for attending Word Christchurch was to see Caitlin Doughty who, through her web series Ask a Mortician, changed the way I view death. I made an idiot of myself when I met her (as you do when you meet someone you admire) but she was great about it. The sold out Ask a Mortician could have been better if they’d just given Caitlin the floor. The speakers at the Embracing Death session shared a pro choice (if I can borrow the abortion term) stance on the option of assisted dying. I had expected some debate but was pleasantly surprised.

The finalists for the  Ngaio Marsh crime writing awards gave us little glimpses into their works. It’s an experience to hear a story from the mouth of the writer. The Great Divide (between intellectualism and pop culture) didn’t impress but I went into it with the mindset that it would be about pretentious writers – one did actually use that word to identify himself. My favourite session was The Nerd Degree. Two ladies (one of them Caitlin) faced off against two men and completely trounced them. The men sadly embodied the socially awkward nerds whereas the women were articulate. I won’t spoil it any further as the pod cast is coming out soon. Several people came away from the festival with a crush on Ivan Coyote; I wish I had attended one of their talks.

Sunday morning I interviewed former National Librarian Penny Carnaby (completely unrelated to the festival). She is an amazing individual. The topics ranged from politics, her work at the National Library and life advice (apparently I should go towards the things I’m afraid of – I have been doing a lot of that lately).

Christchurch is a beautiful city I am so grateful to have visited. There was beauty in the ruins. If I had a job, friends, or family there I’d move. I went for wander to get a feel for the city and do research for my current book. It’s given me a lot of ideas so I can get back to writing.

Progress and letting go

My own darling child* has been out in the world for a month now. I thought it would be difficult to let Alison go as she lived in my head for year. But once she/it was published she was gone. I think there may even come a time when I read Alison and am surprised at what I find. I’ve been letting go of a lot of things this year. It’s difficult but it’s making me a better writer and a better person.

Continue reading Progress and letting go

I killed my computer

A friend gave me one of her old computers when I wasn’t able to use my Asus transformer pad to VPN into work. I’ve had my computer for about a year. I wrote my soon-to-be-published book using it. For the last month or two the laptop has sat open on my desk because I was worried it would snap in half if I chose to close it. Turns out I was half right.

Continue reading I killed my computer

My first book

I am days away (fingers crossed) from publishing my first book. When I say book I mean novella (that’s a short novel). I hope you’ll like it.