Wednesday 9 June 2010

In my defence......

I blame my workspace, which right now looks a huge mess.
The reason is simple.
I often write from the computer, and my favorite to type with is my Mac™ computer.
Because you know, I’m a serious writer and we all know all serious writers must use the Mac™ computer.
Some authors get by on Windows™ computers, but frankly we know that those ones will always struggle.
My beautiful Mac™ is more than 3 years old now, and in some serious need of an upgrade, but if wishes were horses, I’d be a professional jockey.
Lately, it has these emotional issues and chooses to open many programs and some disk drives in a purely random manner, and many times I approach it in pure trepidation, never knowing which mood she is going to be in that day.
The battery is also just about gone, which means I type and save manically and curse very frequently when PHCN cuts the power, sometimes before I have the chance to hit the “save” button.
And what else….oh yeah, by some circuiting problem, the left side of the machine gives me a small jolt when I’m not wearing shoes, which I frequently am not.
So, this machine has me typing manically, cursing like an anti-Christian and in dire danger of one day dying from an electric shock just about everyday.
But here I am, 3 years later, still madly in love.
And still madly proud. Because I’d love to change it and use the Windows™, but what kind of serious writer would that make me?
And this bring us to the Windows™.
Well, I’ll be fair, performance and longevity-wise, I’ve had better luck with my Windows; a clunky, heavy, silver, cheap-plastic Dell™. To be honest, I look at that machine and it reminds me of an ugly shoe.
But that’s all the complaints I’m allowed to have under God’s green earth, because this child has held out.
It is seven years old, bought with scarce funds that I didn’t have, sometime ago as a student. I opportunity-cost(ed) some medical textbooks at the time, and even then, it took about six months and then some to pay it all off. (long story) But I had a computer, I was a year-three student and that fact made me so fly!
Here comes my book, my thesis, my discovery of the cure for saggy bottoms!.
Then I was soon to discover, meekly, that the computer only helps you to write what is inside your head, tap-tapping on the keyboard alone will not do the job and magically put the words, the thoughts, the book, the theory together.
Oh well, at least I could watch DVD’s.
And when I started to get free-lance writing gigs in and outside school, having a computer was an amazing plus, so it was not all in vain.
In spite of falls, bangs and scratches, it has held on stoically like a soldier. A very good product. A bit slow nowadays, but a good product.
If only it would stop looking like an ugly shoe.
Did I mention its slowness? I did I guess, but I must have glossed over it, because that child is slow man…..kilode?
This is how I put it on.

Step one….open computer and press the “on” key.
Step two.. wait a few seconds to see if “on” heard me.
Step two and half… (often inevitable) repeat step two louder.
Step three… If step two and a half goes the right way, step away from the computer for about fifteen minutes. Go and make breakfast, arrange your books, find a pen, review your journal for the day, look at your notes for the day and etcetera ( I don’t do such serious writer-ly things, mind) most of the time I’m taking one of my many showers in the day.
Step three and a half….if Step three is taking long today, wait a little longer.
Step four: by this time, the reason for the fifteen minutes (ugly-shoe is booting up) has usually run its course.
Step five: Now you can do your writing or the day. Or watch DVD’s (mind your business jo!)

Okay where was I?
Oh okay, my workspace…so the reason why its such a mess.
This is because I often have both computers on, the Mac for until PHCN strikes, and the Windows to resume hereafter ( in spite of its unforgivable ugliness, it has held up with battery power and even after eight years, has a spare that still works like Day One).
Behind the silver cheap-plastic is a silver lining abi?
Then there is my portable HP printer to print and revise work with. Which has not made up its mind if it likes my Mac™ or my Windows™ better, because some days it works fine with one, and the next it says it doesn’t want to be friends no more.
Then we switch to the other.
So where were we, last count, two laptops, one schizophrenic printer. My two phones always permanently charging (I know, this is so bush of me, but Im always plugging rechargeable things into power as soon as I find a power source. There must be a name for this compulsive disorder. *The different ways in which Nigeria has messed up otherwise normal adults is criminal*)
Add some other odds and ends, empty plastic bottles, hair-pins, too many shoes, some nail polish (when dialogue wont come, give yourself a manicure), scratched recharge cards, lists of people I need to call, articles to write and you have an idea of what it is like in my workspace.
And that is the reason why I haven’t finished the manuscript yet, or why I haven’t been updating this blog.
And with that M’lord, the defence rests…….

Thursday 22 April 2010

R.I.P Dagrin

So young, so talented, so soon.
My heart bleeds.

Thursday 22 October 2009

Tuesday 13 October 2009

Help me along, anyone?

As some of you might know, I am/ have been working on a book about a succubus.
The name that we give to that dastardly female, that makes us do anything for her, re-named for the female sexual spirit that appears to men in the middle of the night and makes them have sex with her, and she in turn drains their life forces; in many cases their health, longevity, and bodily fluids which many equate to the same thing.
This concept of course covers many themes; erotic dreams and the many ramifications of sexual desire, male and female, normal and the unusual, the mundane and the deviant.
What is the most intriguing thing for me, apart from the fact that this female spirit appears very ubiquitously in almost all cultures, almost unchanged, is that the general emotional response to such an idea is fear and rejection of the concept.
Many of the literature of the time, while influenced by women, is still largely documented by men. If we accept this to be so, then can one say that men are afraid of sex, a sexual woman, erotic dreams? Or does it mean that in real life, it is much preferred that a woman take a passive role in sexual relationships, or in all relationships? So that the worst manifestation of a woman, the thing that we are most prone to fear and rejection, is as a demon that prowls on men at night?
AND, if there is a universal fear about what a female SHOULD not be, what a female monster or malevolent spirit looks like, flipping that theory on its head, is there a universal theory on what she SHOULD be?
Is there a woman that every man fall in love with? Is there such a woman that can MAKE every man fall in love with her?
This is my theory, also my question, and I have been battling it out on the pages of my book; literary, fiction, for a long time. (2 years and some odd months).
As with everything, sometimes I get stuck on the direction in which to proceed forward.
The characters look like they are forcing themselves to be (any other writer out there feel me on this one, holler)
But ill pass on to you one of the nuggets of wisdom that I have gleaned from writing forums, something that is so simple, its nearly redundant to repeat.
And that is that when you are stuck for inspiration, take a break, and look at life for the inspiration that evades you in the fiction.
Simple huh?
In the spirit of that, I have been spending some time looking at some of the great examples of Succubi in local legend, urban legends, contemporary news, even in literature that was written before me. Jezebel and Jagua Nana, anyone?
Some of them overt, the others covert. The unifying character seems to be that woman who is so sure of her own power and appeal that is draws you in like a spell.
This is irregardless of her looks, or perhaps even her brains. (even though you have to admit that being a seductress requires some appreciable grey-matter cunning).
Arrogance aside, you do have to admire that grit. To get men’s balls, (sorry, there was no other way to put this), you need some yourself.
I think to myself, if I had that power over men, what would I do with it?
(Cleopatra changed a country from inside a carpet, my kinda gal)
So I will in the spirit of my work post a picture of my succubus of the week on this blog.
You are welcome to say yay or nay, just remember that for every succubus you knock off, you have to give me one back.
That’s fair isn’t it?
This week, I present to you, Madame Chantal Biya.