Melanoma Files

I should start a new blog: The Melanoma Files

Oh dear, I'm afraid someone flicked the silly switch on this morning. I can see the ridiculous side of everything today. I'll try to be serious...!

For the first time since this melanoma made itself known as a lump in my leg, it turned nasty on me. Last night it burned. It was a very strange feeling - a burning from within. Not a nice experience to be sure. Maybe in some way the lump sensed that I'm plotting to have it removed.

I view this cancer as being a natural part of my own body that has gotten out of control. To keep it from growing I've been surrounding it with a ball of golden, loving energy.

You might think that's a bit odd, but let's think about the words we use when we deal with illness.

We "battle" a cold. We "fight" cancer. We "endure", "go ten rounds with", "have a bout of", "bravely soldiering on"...

Getting the picture?

How often have you heard someone telling you that someone they know is "fighting cancer"? Or, having sadly lost someone to cancer they say: "He fought a hard battle right to the end."

If cancer is merely a bunch of your own cells that have grown out of proportion, then "fighting" it means you are fighting yourself. That's a "battle" that's going to turn ugly. I can't even win an argument with myself. Believe me, I've tried. If I lose, I lose; if I win, I still lose.... hmmmm. I'd rather reason with myself any day. At least there's a possibility that I might reach a solution.

My reality is that I've been living with melanomas for over 10 years.

Yes, LIVING with.

When it comes to illness, adversity and other things that frighten us, we suddenly go into battle mode. We want to strike down everything and everyone standing in our way - including ourselves. And, we've come to expect the same from others. We think they should fight. They owe it to us.

But, why don't we say: "He's living with cancer", or "He lived right up until the end"?

I'm sad that some people see that accepting my melanomas and living with them, is in some way a defeat. They think I've given up because I'm not beating my chest and grasping the sword by the hilt. [I've tried sword fighting. A medieval sword maiden I definitely am not. Not in this century, anyway.]

I'm also living with diabetes and a kidney disease [IgAN] that will cause me to be on dialysis some time in the future.

LIVING WITH

Whichever way my body chooses to function, it is still my body and I'll do whatever I can to look after it and keep it healthy. I'm LIVING with it.

Sometimes I think it would be nice to step into a newer model - one with a little less time on the clock; a firmer, fitter, more updated model. But then, running-in a new model always has its problems too.

Let's face it, I'm stuck with this body. I might as well LIVE with it. I've gotten used to it. It has its quirks, but it still goes - and there's still a few more miles in it yet.

Sorry. Silly switch is still on.

Where was I...? Oh yes LIVING!

Live each day as though it is your last.

I understand that sentiment, but... No way!

I'm living each day as though it is my first.

I'm living to plan, planning to live, intending to live right up until the end - whenever that may be.

"Them thar be fightin' words!"

No. They're living words. Words full of the exuberance of life. Words of love, power, energy, light... words to LIVE by.

Cheers!

50th

BIRTHDAY

WRITING

COMPETITION

Yes, it's true! In August I'll be celebrating reaching that wonderful milestone of turning 50 years old.

And I don't mind one bit. Fifty is a glorious age. It's a writing age, an age of experience and enthusiasm... and I don't feel a day over 20 [and I don't act it, either - so I've been told]!

To celebrate my "coming of age" I'm going to be running a month-long competition for writers.

I'm offering:

one free professional edit

of a short story, novelette, novella or novel

of any fiction genre!

As many of you know, I've been editing for Eternal Press for more than three years now, and I've recently joined the staff of Damnation Books as an editor as well. Before that, I've had many years of experience in editing short stories, newsletters, newspapers, etc.

If you want to check out my latest editing credits, click on my Editing Credits page and scroll through the wonderful titles I've been privileged to have edited over the past few years.

So, writers, get to it!

The competition starts NOW

from August 1 until August 31, 2009.

There will be one winner only. The winning author's name will be drawn out of a hat, totally at random, and announced during the first week of September.



Prize: One Professional Edit.



This edit is designed to help you polish your manuscript up to submission standard to present to a publisher if you're on your last draft, or to help you with the process of writing your story if you're on your first draft.

Please note: this is not a guarantee that a publisher will accept your manuscript.

Publishers will assign you an editor of their own if they accept your work for publication.

I am offering this edit in good spirit. It is totally up to you whether you wish to accept my suggestions or not.



Submission Guidelines



Please send your submission to: brittanykingstonauthor@gmail.com

Word documents only.

Place your name and email at the top of the title page.

Manuscripts formatted in Times or similar font, 12 point, 1.5 line spacing.

Fiction genres only.

No late entries will be accepted.

Winner chosen totally at random.



So there you have it, authors... have fun.



Yours in love and light



Brittany Kingston

Masters of Horror

Blogging today at: Masters of Horror

See you there!

Cheers

Brittany K.

The Paintings Are Up

 

All is ready for the Phoenix Art Exhibition.

 

Today we hung all our paintings up. It took from 11.30am until 7pm, but it's all done and looks fantastic. All we need now is people through the doors.

 

I have 24 paintings in this exhibit. Most are ink on canvas. A few are acrylic. All are fire elemental energy paintings.

 

I hope people buy some. All the money from sales is going to the bushfire appeal. It would be good to have a substantial amount to donate.

 

Over this next week I won't have much time for anything other than the exhibition. I have to be there at the door every day until it closes.

 

I'll take my laptop I guess. That way, when there are quiet times, I'll have a chance to get a little work done. Probably some editing.

 

It's late now. I have a load of washing to put in the dryer for tomorrow.

 

Cheers for now.

Conversation with my Adopted Mother

As part of an exercise in Life Coaching, we had an assignment to write a conversation we'd like to have with someone who has/had/ influence over our lives. I took this opportunity to say all the things I wish I really could say to my adopted mother. For reasons which will become clear to you if you read it, this conversation will never take place.

This was not an easy conversation to write, and I understand that for many people, it won't be easy to read. But it is what it is, and through actually writing it down, through acknowledging that this was my reality, I feel somewhat liberated.

So... for what it's worth, here's my conversation:

Conversation with my Adopted Mother

I know who you are. I know what you are.

You are a damaged soul. You have a personality disorder. You are a Sadistic Narcissistic Psychopath.

Nature selected you to never be able to have a baby of your own. Unfortunately, there are ways around that, and you were handed an innocent, helpless child. You were given me.

Because of you I grew up knowing only darkness, isolation, fear.

You are not an educated or intelligent human being, but you are extremely cunning.

For the first six years of my life, I was fostered, therefore you could not do whatever you liked because authorities were randomly looking over your shoulder. However, once the adoption went through, everything changed.

I remember that day. I remember the look in your eyes. I didn’t understand it at the time. I didn’t recognise your expression. Now I know what it was. It was a look of pure hate. That’s something I’ve never actually seen on anyone else. Real hate is not a common emotion. People use the word a lot, but the real thing, when it creeps onto a person’s face, is utterly terrifying. I can’t even explain the feeling I had back then – and I was only 6 or 7.

From that moment on, I hid. I hid my personality. I hid my talents. I hid my emotions. I hid myself. It was my only defence against your tyranny.

You were relentless in your emotional and mental torture.

You stole my innocence. You stole my faith in humanity. You stole my life.

One day when you were tired of dragging me along with you while you shopped, when you thought nobody was looking, you threw me out in front of a bus. If it were not for the quick reflexes of another lady who grabbed my arm and yanked me back to safety, I would be dead. You grabbed me from her and belted me with your handbag and screamed to everyone that I had been very naughty and ran out on the street. Everyone sympathised with you. You poor thing. You’d had such a shock. What a dreadful child. I was not even game enough to cry. But I remember. This was the first of many such incidents when I was still small. I remember them all. The lesson was well learnt.

For years I led a double life. I’d go to school and be a “normal” happy child who enjoyed playing with my friends and enjoyed life. When I came home, I retreated into darkness, quietness, I hid. I did everything I could to be invisible to everyone. I tried to stay out of trouble. I tried in the only way I knew how, to survive.

And still I loved you. You were my mother. You were doing this for my own good. After all, that’s what you kept telling me. I was adopted. I was bad. You had to straighten me out. I should be grateful. If I wasn’t, I would be “sent back”.

As I grew older, and you felt that your control over me was weakening, your cruelty accelerated. You grew more and more manic. Your outright cruelty to me had no boundaries. Nobody knew. You appeared so nice to everyone else. You had me so terrified that I never spoke out. I told no-one. I knew my life would be over if I did. Even Dad was under your control. To keep the peace, he became your enabler. He delivered victims to you for slaughter, and how you loved tearing them down. I watched it all. I learnt. I remembered.

Still, I loved you. Your hatred of me was soul-destroying, but I loved you. You were my mother.

I’m sad to admit that my love for you faded over time. I educated myself about people like you. I eventually freed myself of your influence.

This was hard. Harder than anyone can imagine. I still have to struggle against the conditioning you put into place. I still have to remind myself that you have no influence over me anymore. I still have to be aware of how diabolical you can be.

I want you to know that despite all that you did physically, emotionally, spiritually, psychically, I survived. I found myself. I am going to become the person I was meant to be.

I know that telling you these things to your face would never work. You hear only what you want to hear. Even now, you yell and scream over the top of anything I might have to say. You still will not relinquish your quest to destroy me totally. I don’t understand why, but I accept that you are who you are. There is no changing that.

Now that you are old and infirm, you see your only way of controlling me is through your money. You have made your Will to exclude me – your only child – and your two grandsons who also have recognised what you are and have nothing to do with you. You might think I have poisoned their minds against you, but I never did that. I allowed you to be their grandmother while being very careful not to let you do to them what you did to me. My sons are intelligent. They made their own minds up about you. I have never forced them to visit you. I understand that they do not want any contact with you – as sad as that may seem to outsiders.

I do not want anything from you. I’m not after your money or any of your possessions. When you die, I don’t care what you do with your estate. There is nothing in me that cares about such things.

As for you... I will not abandon you completely. Even though I have very little contact, I will not let you suffer alone in your old age. I refuse to look after you myself. I will not get that close to you. You are still a danger to me.

However, I will make sure you are well taken care of. I refuse to allow myself to be hardened or made to sink to your level of cutting people off whom you don’t like. I would like nothing more than to have no more contact with you, but I will not do that. I will make sure you are alright.

I will not be like you. I can never be. I am a free spirit. A kind spirit. I am an ancient spirit. I am a survivor. I have survived you.

It has been necessary for my sanity and spiritual health that I remove all influence you have over me. I have done that. Now I am safe to have some contact with you without fear that you will upset me in any way or be able to have any influence with your soul-destroying ways. Now, anything you say, do, or mean to do, has no affect. Your nasty thoughts, words and deeds mean nothing. You mean nothing to me. I find it sad that it has to be this way, but for my own safety, this is the way it is.

It is very sad that you will never get to know me as a person. We will never have a mother-daughter relationship, or even a friendship. I know that you are not capable of such things. Your personality disorder prevents you from thinking as a normal human thinks and feeling as a normal human feels. That is sad for you.

My life with you has given me experience in matters most people will never know – thank God. Thanks to you, I have an inner strength and sense of self that cannot be extinguished. I know that no matter what happens to me, no matter how cruel people can be, they will never have more than a passing influence over my being. My light cannot be dimmed.

As hard as it is for me to acknowledge your part in that, I thank you for forcing me to be strong, for forcing me to find myself and be able to rely on myself to get me through anything.

I am me, because of what you are.

Plays, Stones, Lattes & Science Fiction

It's not getting any less busy around here. In fact, I think it might even be busier than before.

How does that work? I thought things would settle down and be a bit less manic after the True Blue Aussie Review play finished. But no... there's still a steady string of visitors coming and going, and there's still a heap more paintings to do for my Phoenix art exhibition. Quieter after the play? More time for writing?

Not so.

These days the only writing time I'm getting is when I go down to the Idyl Book Cafe to do my Gypsy Stone Readings. Between readings I set up my laptop and put in a little quality writing time. What can be better than that? Sipping lattes and writing science fiction. Not bad at all.

It is only one day per week, but that is one whole day per week of writing. That's more than I can manage at home at the moment. Stolen time's the best, isn't it? It's almost a guilty pleasure. An indulgence. All the sweeter for the taking.

[Insert maniacal laughter here]

Oh, that's right. Full moon tonight. I might have known. It brings out the worst in me... or perhaps the best. Who knows?

Catch up soon.

Brittany K.

My Feet Haven't Hit The Ground

I can't believe how long it's been since I've blogged here! I've been so busy the time has flown by like leaves in the wind. Seasons have come and gone and now there's frost on the ground outside.

I've been busy with my editing and my own writing. Shadow Runners edits are still coming along nicely. Mark of the Condemned is progressing well, and I've even started Legacy of the Gildan.

Today I do my Gypsy Stone Readings at Idyl Book Cafe. Then it's home to feed the cattle and get ready for play rehearsals at the Beechworth Memorial Hall.

The show was fantastic last night. The Yackandandah senior citizens really enjoyed it. It makes such a difference to us too, to have an appreciative audience.

I'll have to get myself organised today so I can get everything done. It has been such a busy couple of weeks, my feet have hardly hit the ground.

Between readings today I'll do some editing. Usually I take the opportunity to get some of my own writing done during the quiet times, but I have another assignment, so it will be an ideal time to get as much of that done as I can.

After the play I'll have to really get moving on my art for the Phoenix Exhibition. I still need another four large paintings. That exhibition opens on June 20 and all proceeds will go the Victorian bushfire appeal. There's only two of us involved in this one and it has been fun doing all the fire energy paintings. They're turning out really well. They're very vibrant and really different. I'll post some pictures when they're all done.

It's time for me to get a move on now or I'll be late for my first reading. I'll catch up with you all when I finally have time to sit and relax for a moment or two.

Cheers

Brittany K.

Feburary Flop

Fires, Fiery Temperatures & No Writing

February has been a disastrous month all round this year.

I suppose I could look at it this way: at least we got as far as February before the State of Victoria went up in flames. We’re usually on fire by late December to early January. We almost made it into autumn without losing anybody.

It has been a month of unspeakable tragedy. So many homes lost. So many lives lost. There are no words to describe it. There are a lot of people and animals wandering around homeless, orphaned, alone, numb.

While all this was happening down here, up north they’re all under water. And I do mean UNDER water. Those poor people have been flooded out.

That’s Australia, I suppose. How did that poem go? “…a land of droughts and flooding rains”. Yes. Definitely.

The other reason not much writing was done around here over the past couple of months is, of course, the searing temperatures.

Everyone who knows me, knows that I love a good hot summer. 40 degrees Celsius with a clear dry heat is what I thrive in. But 52 degrees? Unheard of. It was way too hot to sit in here in my office and do any kind of computer work.

It isn’t only my writing that suffered. I also have to work flat out over the next three or four days on the farm accounts to get my GST lodged before I get into trouble with the Taxation Department.

Okay. So the heat has passed. I’m having trouble adjusting to the mere 30 degree days now. I find them a tad on the cool side. Can’t wait to see what winter brings. I think I’ll go into hibernation for that.

With the heat gone, so is the procrastination. It’s back to work for me. Accounts, writing, blogging, editing… all of that. Not that I consider writing to be hard work. I enjoy it so much that I find it relaxing. I like to lose myself in a good novel. Actually, I have two on the go. Four if you count book 3 of The Andaman Saga.

Somewhere in this computer’s memory are: Wild Heart – a paranormal romance; The Shadow Runners – science fiction novel almost at sending away stage, book 1 of The Andaman Saga; Mark of the Condemned – book 2 of The Andaman Saga; Legacy of the Gildan – book 3 of The Andaman Saga; Shards of Life – a Gypsy romance/slice of life novel almost at the editing stage… and I can’t wait to get my fingers to the keyboard to get on with all of them.

So, if you’re looking for me… look no further. I’m here with my fingers flying over the keyboard and my mind firmly planted in that other world of all things writerly.

But for now… Ugh! Accounts.

Cheers

Brittany Kingston

Please sign my petition against racial abuse at: http://ping.fm/fkcoM

181 dead so far in the bushfires. More than 80 people still not accounted for.

A man threw his 4yo daughter off the Westgate Bridge in Melb. this morn. His 2 other kids were in the car watching.

HAPPY AUSTRALIA DAY

Competition Winner

WINNER!

New Year

Competition

I've been so busy with my editing and updating this site that I forgot to post the winner of my New Year Competition!

Congratulations

DEB.B.C.

I hope you're enjoying your reading package.

Huge thank you to all who entered both online and off. Your answers were so good I was tempted to use some of them. Thanks also Judy B. and Kelly W. I'm not sure a Drinn would actually say such things, but you both gave me a good laugh. And, finally, Darren - pity "The Shadow Runners" isn't going to have a triple XXX rating!

Thanks once again. I hope you all enjoyed entering the competition as much as I enjoyed reading your answers.

Yours in love and light

Brittany Kingston

Check out my complete Editing Credits at: http://ping.fm/5CRAP

Need I Say More?

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrgh!! Just wrote a whole blog article, hit the wrong button and erased it. AAAAAAAAARGH!

The Friends That Only...

It's nice when friends call out of the blue and want to catch up for a coffee. I'm always open to that.

This morning a friend I don't see very often called and asked if I'd be home some time today for a cuppa. I said, "Of course. I'd be delighted."

Now, all I can think about is, "what does she really want?"

That's awful. I know. But...

There are some people who are like that. They only contact you when there's something in it for them.

So what do I do about it? I like this friend. We used to hang out together all the time. We shared our thoughts, hopes, dreams... all that. Now, I see her very rarely, and most of the time it's when her computer is down and she needs to check her emails, send a fax, or needs a favour.

Don't get me wrong. I'll always drop everything for a friend in genuine need. However, I don't like being taken advantage of.

I find it sad that some people consider it okay to use friends in this manner. I don't use people. I go out of my way to avoid it, in fact. If I want a favour, I ask. I'll always find a way to show my appreciation and gratitude - in the form a small gift, card, cuppa up the street, something. I prefer to think that most people are like that. I don't ask for favours very often. I tend to struggle through on my own. One of my many failings, I'm afraid.

I'm also not opposed to friends ringing me and asking me for favours. What I don't like is friends ringing me to "catch up for a cuppa" then, when the niceties are over, hit me with, "oh, while I'm here...," "can I just...". Hmmm. Wears a bit thin after a while. I'd rather people be up front from the beginning and come right out and say, "I'm ringing to see if I can ask you a favour."

[Insert sigh here]

Oh well. I guess I'll find out what she wants after she has partaken of my hospitality.

Sad when it gets to this, isn't it.

I still like this friend, and I still enjoy catching up with her, even though it's usually to her benefit. It all comes down to accepting people for who they are, really. This how this friend is. If I want to associate with her, I have to realise this and accept it.

I deal with it by either not being available for a cuppa unless it's up the street somewhere, or I invite her out with full knowledge that there will be a catch.

I wonder what it will be today?

Cheers

Brittany K.

My son and his friend bought inflatable boats today. We put them in the Ovens River upstream from our place this evening & floated back downstream to home. It was a 3 hour trip. The river's low and we had to get out and pull the boats over the sand a few times, but it was very pleasant.

The "Silly Season" is officially over for us.

It's Monday morning and everyone is off to work again - those who actually had time off. The rest of us merely had our daily lives turned upside down for a few weeks.

So it's back to my usual routine today:- Curves this morning, housework, then writing & editing. In the afternoon: gardening, maybe a swim if it's hot.

Well, that's "Plan A". Quite typically I get to about "Plan D" by the end of the day when things don't go quite as expected, but then, that's life.

On the writing front, things have been good, all distractions considered. I've gotten back into the final edits for "The Shadow Runners". I'm about half way through now, so I'm looking forward to having the whole novel publisher-ready in a few weeks.

Then comes the real work:- finding out who's taking science fiction this time of the year, who's interested in having a look at my science fiction... and onto the merry-go-round I go.

Oh how often have I wished I could just click my fingers and make all my dreams come true...

Unfortunately, magic doesn't just happen in this world. We have to get out there in the dirt and make it happen.

I kind of like the idea of being able to wave the magic wand, though. Don't you?

Well, here's to a brand new year of writing, editing, art, music and all things bright and cheery. Here's to all the challenges that will come this year. May we all have the strength to get through them and learn valuable lessons to help us grow.

That's enough deep and meaningful for now. I'm off to the shower to get my daily dose of negative ions, then to Curves for my daily dose of self-inflicted exercise torture, then back here for my daily dose of housework torture, then...

I guess you're getting the picture. Let's see how much of my day actually goes to plan.

Cheers for now

Brittany K.

My New Year Competition has come to an end. Now... to deliberate on the winning answer.... hmmm.