pretend

I’ve been listening to Nonyana’s 4 boys pretend to crow early in the morning, afternoon, lunchtime. Pretty much whenever they get a chance. I say pretend because what comes out of their mouths cannot yet be termed a crow. It comes out all wrong. I don’t know how the humans are coping with this but it’s driving me crazy. First comes the scramble up a tree to gain a height advantage and then follows the disappointing gurgle. I can’t believe I was ever like this.

A point of interest about roosters  is their reaction to male offspring. I  can’t stand them!! In the jungle of course they would leave the nest and begin their own family but in these suburban environs it’s up to the humans to find a home for them. Fortunately I have noticed that they don’t yet have names. No names means that the pot has not been ruled out. Shocking you might think!! But I’ve heard of similar things that you humans do to your female offspring. Now that to me is shocking.

Anyway, I am meandering. Pretend. It’s so popular in these new psycho-babble-10-steps kind of ways. This kind of touchy-feely is rampant in the esoteric worlds but I see the concepts have put on a suit and tie and moved into the business world. Must be all those business-types secretly reading their wives energetically empowering books at night. The idea is that one must pretend. I know there is probably a more nuanced word for this, but it  is pretending, it’s playing the character that you want to be. The universe in it’s bountiful way needs only to see the heartfelt desire coupled with some consistent visualisation technique and water is but concrete walkway.

This led me to thinking about a theme that I often find with writers. The notebook. The capturer of those whimsical, fleeting, droplets of pure genius. I often mock this concept but as I turned it over in my mind it seemed to grow hair on it’s chest and a deep throated cockadoodle doo. Yes! So I am going to explore this writing persona. If you see some shady looking rooster furiously scrawling in a dark corner that will be me. It might even be in the queue at the local Spar, I so love perving other people’s purchases.

The gem for my inspiration has been the Guardian’s book section. They have a running series called Rules for writers.

My favourite has been by one of my all time best writers Margaret Atwood. Margaret Atwood’s rules for writers. They are funny, she must spend lots of time in airplanes. My friend joked that she must also not have ever heard of a pencil sharpener. I laughed but only until I realised the blasphemy of my actions. I throw myself at your feet Margaret.

The other is by somebody I have never read, a man by the name of Michael Morpurgo. Maybe you can enlighten me. I actually liked his rules more. His way of working resonated more with how ideas jump from my head to the screen.

Enjoy. Be inspired.