The Writing Workshop: Personality Catwalk

Yay, I am so glad this is back. Thank you Sleep Is For The Weak!

So, my mywn words have suffered somewhat this week because of this, but it was good – and surprisingly easy – to slip back into Ava’s world. If you aren’t familiar with Ava’s ongoing story, the rest of the instalments can be found under the writing tab above, but I hope you don’t need to read them to enjoy the story. Let me know what you think

Personality Catwalk
by Liberty Gilmore, 23/06/11

Ava contemplates the power of appearance, and what skin she is most comfortable in.

Ava looked at the girl in the mirror and didn’t recognise her. The pale skin, the soft radiance was familiar, the eyes still dark blue. But in the dress, with its soft red pleats of material, understated decoration on the straps, the shimmering gossamer texture of it, Ava looked in the mirror and saw her mother.

She was surprised when Natalia decided to support the school fundraiser ‘Fashion Show’ with a considerable donation and the loan of some clothes. But that shock was nothing compared to how Ava felt when Natalia announced that she would be attending.

‘And miss this opportunity to see how your powers of physical manipulation are developing?’ Natalia had said, leaving Ava feeling angry at herself for not anticipating it.

She meant: see how you can use your physical appearance to command attention and desire. The thing she used her own beauty for – weaponising it, turning it into a lethal force rather than a fortunate roll of the genetic dice.

She was in a small classroom next to the hall, closed off from the audience where her mother was sitting, but Ava could feel Natalia’s presence like a shard of ice in her second sight. These tests were getting more frequent. Either Natalia thought she was nearly ready to start her mission, or she knew Ava was close to wandering from the path. Ava didn’t know which would be worse. There was no way Natalia would take Ava’s apathy towards her mission kindly.

She was picture perfect in the dress, her hair done by Holly, a delicate bracelet about her wrist, her new ring on her finger. The ring her mother had given her.

Try as she might, she couldn’t complete the image with a smile.

‘You look miserable,’ Holly said.

‘I would say my outer appearance is a pretty accurate reflection of my inner feelings,’ Ava said.

‘What?’ Holly said absentmindedly, not really listening as she fluffed Ava’s hair and straightened her straps.

‘Don’t feel well,’ Ava said, trying for a smile and landing somewhere near a grimace.

‘I’ll get you a glass of water,’ Holly said, teetering off in her heels.

Ava turned back to the mirror, trying her smile a second time. It flickered for a moment, but the mere thought of using it to seduce and control made it vanish and a sick feeling start in Ava’s stomach.

This wasn’t her, this wasn’t who she was.

Her mother’s presence pressed on her, making her flinch. No doubt Natalia had picked up on her unease – the pressure came with the suggestion of a question. Ava drew the curtains on her second sight and cut her mother out.

A soft knock sounded on the door, and Ava realised she was alone in the room. All the other girls had left to find their place in the parade. Rain poured against the windows behind the heavy blinds drawn shut against prying eyes. The classroom clock read five to seven. Any moment now the music and the night would begin.

The minute hand clunked one notch closer to seven, and Ava knew she couldn’t do it. Like the walls were closing in around her, she suddenly felt suffocated. The dress itched and she wanted to peel it from her skin, to strip away the uncomfortable reminder of everything she was being raised to be. Everything she hated the thought of being.

Ava went to the window, pulling back the blinds. The classroom looked out on the back gates, and no late parents were out there to witness her escape – they were all in the front car park. The window had a safety latch, but it wasn’t locked. The classroom was ground floor so it had no need to be. It would be tight, but Ava knew she could slot through the gap.

‘Ava?’ Adam called softly through the door. ‘Holly sent me with water.’

Ava froze and turned round. Adam pushed the door open, cautiously poking his head round. He looked relieved to see she was fully dressed and alone.

‘Hey, Holly said you weren’t feeling great. She got waylaid by Mrs Hunter – needed for the opening parade apparently. Here.’

He held out the glass of water towards her. Ava didn’t take it.

‘Why’s the window open? Need some fresh air? You’re not going to faint are you, I mean, you’ve not exactly got anything to worry about.’ He nodded at her his eyes running up and down her body, pushing to the edge of polite appraisal, but not going beyond into ‘checking out’.

Natalia would want her to use her looks to seduce Adam, to control him. The thought made Ava want to throw up.

‘I’ve got to get out of here,’ she said.

‘Through the window?’ Adam raised an amused eyebrow.

‘Yes, through the window.’

‘Woah, okay, I didn’t realise you were being serious. What’s the matter.’

‘I’ve just got to get out.’

She used a table to climb up to the level of the windowsill and swung her legs out. The cold rain permeated the thin material instantly. There would be consequences for this later, but later wasn’t now.

‘Ava, seriously? What are you doing?’

She jumped down, sliding herself sideways past the open window and was free. The rain beat down on her skin, her hair, turning the dress into drowned rags and destroying her careful hairstyle. A hand on her shoulder pulled her round.

‘Ava, what the hell? It’s pouring with rain out here, come back inside.’

‘I have to get away from here. I can’t be in that building. I need…’

Her feet started moving without any conscious input from her mind. She allowed them to walk, picking up speed as she passed the back gate and ran into town. It wasn’t late enough to be properly dark, but the rain clouds blocked the fading light, casting shadows where a clear day would have illuminated. She didn’t know where her feet were taking her, but she followed.

‘Ava, where are you going?’

Adam was behind her, following her. She wanted to tell him to go back, but her body called to move forwards, and as she turned a street she knew where she was headed.

Barton Park – less of a park, more of a patch of grass with a swing, but it backed onto a privately owned woods. There was a fence to keep the kids out, but everyone over the age of eight knew the way under it. Ava needed the trees, needed the rough touch of bark beneath her fingers.

She kicked off her shoes as she entered the park – heels slicing into damp turf a hindrance. Adam stooped to pick them up, still following, a bemused and frightened look on his face. Ava hitched the fence up and he held it for her as she climbed underneath, mud trailing along the knees and skirt of her beautiful dress.

A short way into the woods she stopped, touched her forehead against a tree and let its energy fill her, sooth her, exhaling her worries like air.

‘Ava?’ Adam said, his voice small and quivery.

She turned to him. His dark hair was plastered to his face by rain, his jeans muddied and soaked through. He, at least, was wearing a jumper and appeared to be warm despite the wet. Ava didn’t feel the cold, but Fey skin was thicker than Humans’.

‘Have you ever had to do something you really didn’t want to do?’ she said.

‘I think there are more effective ways of getting out a fashion show than freaking out and running away into the rainy night,’ Adam said, his humour barely covering the concern in his voice.

‘I’m not talking about the fashion show.’

‘I know,’ he said, taking a cautious step towards her. He raised a hand, but paused short of touching her, like he feared she would run away again, or maybe bite his head off. Ava was glad he didn’t, because she wasn’t entirely sure what she would do. ‘Ava, I’m not going to pretend to understand exactly what you’re talking about, but, if there’s something you don’t want to do, just don’t do it. There are no rules that say you have to do things. Except, you know, driving on the right side of the road and stuff like that, but I would hope you wouldn’t be this upset about something that is effectively there to save you from death or horrible disfigurement.’

Ava felt a smile twitch in the corner of her mouth and Adam continued, encouraged.

‘Just… talk it through with your parents. I’m sure they’ll understand. They’re your parents, I mean, they want you to be happy right? No matter how much it feels otherwise sometimes.’

He knew she didn’t always agree with her family’s opinions about what she should and shouldn’t do, but he didn’t know, couldn’t know, that they would never understand. Because Adam came from a happy world of parents that put you first and loved you and wanted the best for you. The warm Human world. Not the icy Fey world of honour and duty to your Lord and kindred above all else.

Ava didn’t want to cry, but as the first tears squeezed from her eyes, the others followed in torrents. Her small frame shook with sobs and heart break and rage and grief and sorrow as she mourned for a life that could never be hers, a freedom, a family she could never have.

She pinched her eyes shut, closing out the world for a moment. The trees thrummed with energy, bending to her sadness, reaching out to take it with their branches. Then a warm pink light surrounded her yellow, and the hard edge of sadness and anger started to soften. As she came back to the world, she realised Adam’s arms had found their way around her, were holding her, soothing her as he murmured into her hair that he was there, that things would be okay. For a moment, head tucked against his neck, she could almost believe it.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, stepping back from him. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ Adam said. ‘Just be okay.’

‘I don’t know how to be,’ Ava admitted.

‘I find coffee usually helps,’ he said with a shrug.

***

The coffee shop worker gave them an odd look as the walked in, bedraggled, Ava shoeless and wearing Adam’s jumper – which he’d insisted on giving to her, no matter how much she protested that her shivering was from emotion not the cold.

They sat in a booth near the back, sinking into the cushioned chair accompanied by the drip of rain water ringing from their clothes. By the time a pair of coffees appeared in front of them, they were both steaming as much as the hot drinks.

Ava took a scalding sip of coffee. She didn’t normally go for caffeine – her usual source of pick-me-up energy came from the trees, nature – but the hot liquid cut a burning path down her gullet and made her feel sharply Human.

‘Reckon we can still make it back for the end of the show,’ Adam said after a moment.

‘Don’t think they’d let me anywhere near the stage in this.’

‘Hey, don’t insult the jumper!’

Ava smiled. ‘I like the jumper. Better than the dress.’

‘Well, you do manage to make it look hot,’ Adam said.

Ava’s smile faded. ‘Don’t. I don’t want to be beautiful.’

‘Beauty’s just another layer of clothes we wear,’ Adam said, placing his hand over her arm, near her hand but not quite touching it. ‘And just like clothes, it’s what’s underneath that really counts. Wait…’ He paused as Ava laughed. ‘That didn’t sound quite as good out loud as it did in my head.’

Ava took Adam’s hand and slotted herself back into the crook of his arm, head resting on his shoulder. ‘Thanks for being such a good friend,’ she said.

And in that moment, wearing a ragged wet dress and Adam’s oversized jumper, she felt comfortable in her skin.

D Is For Dinner And A DVD

After the expense of last time, D date was always going to be low key and on the cheap. It turned out a little more low key than intended, as the Boyfriend strained his neck at work, and so could barely move his head, poor bean. We couldn’t delay it, as the camembert cheese we’d bought for the occasion was sticking out the whole house.

I cooked the camembert in the oven, along with part baked bread, while boiling up some broccoli and cauliflower. It took about half an hour all told, but that included me turning everything off to nip round my mum’s to pick up the caramelised red onion chutney she’d given me the day before and I had handily left on her kitchen table.

With no real inclination to stay up late – the Boyfriend wanted a bath to sooth his neck and then to lie down – we decided to skip the DVD part until we got into bed, and instead watched Question Time (Boyfriend’s choice, not mine) then, after dinner, played a couple of levels of Lego Harry Potter while snuggling under the Duvet.

We finished the night with an episode of House. Not really much more than we would do on an average night, but the special dinner did make it feel datey. Normally we don’t have the time between us to actually bother cooking more than a pizza-chips style combo, so to have an interesting meal we’d not tried before made the difference.

The Boyfriend is organising E, so I don’t have a clue what’s coming next. I’m looking forwards to it though!

Show Us Your Shoes

I’m not a terribly girly girl, but I do have a bit of a shoe obsession. I have lots of shoes. Probably not that many by some people’s standards, but in comparison to my makeup collection, for instance, this acquiescence to femininity is wildly disproportionate.

I love shoes.

Unfortunately, due to my ongoing hip issues, I have been forced to live in these monstrosities for the past few months.

Months! You can tell from the wear on the toe… but I’m not spending money on new ones. It was hard enough parting my hard on cash for this ugly pair. My carefully built up resistance to heels has now faded into nothingness. I am planning to use the summer to reacquire it. Then I will be able to wear these much more attractive work shoes again.

I have plenty of ridiculous shoes. I tend to buy them with no mind for what outfits they will match. Like these shoes, the red pair bought for my mother’s wedding, the white pair a birthday present to myself last year, the pink/white pair (which need two party feet slip in soles to make them actually fit, despite being apparently the right size – that’s what you get for shopping in an online sale…)

I do have some sensible ones, like these blue numbers – the first from New Look forever ago, which I’ve never quite brought up the courage to wear to work. It’s not the colour or the size of the heel, they’re just a bit thin, and I have to climb lots of stairs. The boots were a ten pound bargain in a little shoe shop in Weston Super Mare.

Then there are my sandals and some flats – just to prove I don’t only own heels, the boots my boyfriend bought me years ago that I still love, and the killer black heels he bought me a couple of years ago which are a bit too tight and a bit too high to be comfortable but are totally gorgeous and make my legs look about ten feet long.

And my wellies – can’t be glam at a festival without cool wellies. This pair have been serving me well for years and I really want to retire them, but doubt I’ll be able to find a pair as awesome for the same price.

Hmm, what else is there in my garage (tragic issue of living in a tiny little flat – no space for the shoe collection) some old heels from university that were once gorgeous but looking slightly worse for wear, my bright red shoes, my walking boots – not quite worn in yet, they still rub my ankles, but otherwise wonderfully comfortable.

Then there’s my riding boots – not very pretty, but they serve a purpose. Haven’t been used in a while, but hoping to air them out a bit over the summer.

And last but not least – my current favourite shoes. Can’t beat boots for sexiness, sturdiness and all round awesomeness.

Now I really have the urge to go shoe shopping…

Okay – I showed you mine, now you show me yours!

C is for Carden Park Spa And Shopping In Chester

So it’s been over a week since I got back from Carden Park and this is the first opportunity I’ve had to sit down and write about it when I haven’t been too tired to even think about trying to type. Seriously, I came home from work yesterday and fell asleep and was then too tired to cook so I had Chinese for tea, which also begins with C and is therefore a relevant digression.

Anyway, it’s testament to how much the Boyfriend and I needed to get away that, as soon as we’re back in our high stress jobs, we are practically falling apart again. I dread to think what I would have looked like today if I hadn’t had my ultra relaxing spa break last wednesday.

So, we started our C date in a suitably lazy fashion, not taking too long to get up or get ready, but not exactly jumping out of bed either. After packing all our stuff we drove to Chester for a quick meander round the town centre. The Boyfriend wrongly assumed I knew the city well, which caused a little stress, but we did eventually find a car park and some shops. Just seemingly not anywhere near the vicinity of the bit of Chester I do know, with the music shop.

Once we were done with the stress of locating a parking space and place in which to spend our hard earned cash, it was a really nice opportunity to have a bit of retail therapy blow out. I got some new underwear (you really wanted to know that, didn’t you?) and a new bikini especially for the spa facilities. The Boyfriend got a new pair of trousers he’s been hankering after for forever, so he was pleased too.

After relocating the car (which was harder than finding somewhere to park it in the first place) we headed out to Carden Park. It’s a beautiful place, really majestic, with massive grounds and a stunning house. We had some fun trying to work out where to park (again, we fail at parking) then made our way inside. Our room wasn’t yet available so it was straight to the spa and straight into our hot stones back massage.

The ‘do you have any diseases?’ form we had to fill in was a bit alarming, and had me wondering what exactly we were letting ourselves in for, but it turns out that hot stones involves a bit of aromatherapy, which can apparently cause health problems if you have certain conditions. Being generally healthy people we were told not to drink any alcohol after our treatment and were given the all clear to get undressed and make ourselves comfortable on the massage tables.

In a sign of our compatibility (we need a few, there aren’t many!) the Boyfriend and I independently chose the same oil for the massage. You have to pick the one that smells most pleasant to you, as this means it reacts well with your body. Or something. I’m not sure how much I buy into all this stuff, but it was nice to smell tasty for a while.

I’m fairly sure I’m the worst massage client ever, too. I almost jumped off the table when the masseuse touched me for the first time, and it took me forever to settle into being touched by someone I didn’t know. I’m a bit anti physical contact from strangers, but after a while as the massage picked up, it felt like she had four arms anyway, and it was therefore easy to stop thinking of it as her arms touching me. And the stones of course didn’t feel like someone’s hands at all.

My previous fears of the hot stones being uncomfortably hot were close to being true – they certainly pushed the temperature to the limit of what was bearable, but it was actually quite pleasant. It certainly worked wonders at easing the stress away. The heat combined with the exfoliating scrub they did first off also left my back feeling soft and smooth, which was really nice.

After the massage was done we were sent to a relaxation room, but as neither of us had a book and every time we tried to talk to each other, other people in the room would look less than pleased, we soon abandoned that for the less soothing, but more conducive to conversation poolside. The Boyfriend swam a bit then we went in the Jacuzzi. The Boyfriend also dropped a bucket of freezing cold water on his head, but alas, I was not brave (stupid) enough to try that, and therefore cannot report on the health benefits.

While we waited for dinner, I had a much needed haircut (which sort of starts with C if you break it into two words) and then we just chilled. Chilled. That begins with C.

Dinner was a three course meal – all three courses delicious, but particularly the Chocolate Cake we had for desert. Somewhat lamely, we were both too tired to stay up much after dinner, but neither of us was dissatisfied with an evening watching telly followed by a nice early night in the biggest, most comfortable bed we’d ever seen.

In the morning, after an equally delicious Cooked breakfast, we hit the gym and swimming pool for a bit before heading home feeling thoroughly de-stressed and happy. A perfect getaway for two!

Expensive though, D date may have to be a rather less glamorous Dinner and a DVD. But I’m not complaining!

Chocolate Cake with white Chocolate icecream and Chocolate soil

Fruit Smoothie

So the Boyfriend is a strange creature.

Anyone who has read this blog for any great length of time probably already knows that, but it bears saying again.

He has every monday off, which used to be because of the degree course he was doing part time on top of his regular job, but that’s finished for the summer now so he has monday as a sort of extra day off until it starts up again in the autumn. When the Boyfriend has free time, strange things happen. Like smoothie machines appear in our kitchen, along with a market stall’s worth of fresh fruit.

The smoothie maker belongs to his mum and I don’t think it had been properly washed last time it was used, so for a good twenty minutes we were scrubbing all the tiny little parts and putting it together again, ready to go.

Once it was clean, we filled it to the brim with fruit, which looks impressive, but apparently doesn’t do the blade motor much good, as we held the button to ‘mix’ for a good while and were rewarded only with a mushed up banana and the sharp smell of burning. Emptying the fruit to about half way gave the little motor time to cool down and space for it to do its job. Soon the fruit was blended into a nice purple mush.

Once it was blended, we tried a little – to discover it was rather overpoweringly banana flavoured. We’d put a whole banana in to make the mixture thicker and had inadvertently made banana soup. We decided to chuck in the remaining fruit that hadn’t fit on first blend – mostly blueberries, which combatted the banana with their sharp berry tang.

With our recipe haphazardly perfected, it was time to pour the drink. A little strawberry garnish (you’re meant to put it on the side of the glass, not in it! said the Boyfriend. Oops) and it was ready to go. A perfect summer evening treat and probably more fruit than I’ve ever eaten in a single day before.

Of course, it’s hardly a cost effective method of consuming smoothies – the Boyfriend spent £17 at the supermarket, not just on fruit, but he didn’t buy a lot else. We only made about the equivalent of a £3 Innocent Smoothie. It’s also a pain in the neck to clean the damn thing, particularly when the dirt has dried on over time. We washed it up straight away, which rather detracted from the enjoyment of the drink, but hey, it was a lovely one off treat, and a perfect moment of madness for a monday afternoon.

I wonder what next monday will bring…

The Characters Are Taking Over

… or my sanity has run off somewhere with my health.

Well, actually this post has been scheduled and as it is uploading I am hopefully lying on a bed in a spa with some hot stones on my back (a little dubious about this, stay tuned for a full C Date update) or getting my now officially unruly hair cut. I’m hoping that this future version of myself feels a little healthier, if not saner.

So, the reason I’m feeling a little bit dubious about my sanity at the moment (at time of writing moment… this could get confusing) is because the characters in my Mywyn project are taking over. They are officially their own little people now, running round doing things I never planned for them to do, demanding more screen time and generally being a pain.

As a pertinent case study in this phenomenon, allow me to introduce you to Amy Sung.

Amy was a character so incidental that she didn’t even have a name when I started writing. She’s a Duty Solicitor whose sole purpose in the story was to prove that two other characters are stand up sort of guys who do the right thing by calling her into their case, rather than just breaking all the police procedure rules (future dystopia novel, police corruption is back in a big way) and then she was supposed to disappear into the storytelling ether and not come back again.

Until four chapters later she reappeared waving coffee under another character’s nose.

Now it transpires that Amy was involved in a big case that said character was involved in, so they have all this mutual history and have worked together often since. Amy wants to know what happened about the case she was called in to be solicitor for and the other character is going to have to explain what’s going on, which will involve Amy in the rest of the story. It still won’t be in a major way, but she’s come along some from being a character without a name.

I’ve had to write her a character profile just now to ensure I don’t forget what she looks like. She’s a character that is equal parts softness and hard edges – tough and gutsy, but caring. I think Michelle Yeoh could play her well, in the fictional movie adaption of my as yet unwritten (not even titled) book. Minus the kung-fu stuff. Amy fights with words, not fists.

Amy Sung?

Add to this that another minor character (slightly less minor than Amy – he did have a name and a profile) is fast becoming one of my favourites, and I have a recipe for complete story plan deviation. I would say I’m scared that this is going to knock me off my 80k 80 days track, but at the moment I’m too excited to be worried about it.

Well, at this actual moment, I’m probably too relaxed to care. Unless hot stones aren’t pleasantly warm as I’m imagining them to be and are some sort of torture device parading as a spa treatment. But I guess only future-me knows that.