I have been writing all sorts of nonsense for years. I have many folders full of jottings, parts of stories, complete stories, ideas for stories and drawings of characters that I have 'seen' in my head. I have always kept these 'hidden' - not due to embarrassment (honestly), but because I had a different career, a wife, family and things that I had to do that came before things that I wanted to do (like sing, write, draw and paint).
Don't be misled - I am not saying that I am actually any good at any of it (hence maybe a different career), I just feel an impulse (not the fragrance), a need if you like, to write and put down thoughts and feelings in a poetical form and record ideas and stories (real or imagined) that float into my head. I feel my work has some worth, some value and recent events ave happily reinforced this somewhat but for decades I did nothing with my output.
It struck me towards the end of 2012 that all this work, all these words, all these thoughts, were irrelevant if they were never published or read by anyone else. I had so much already written, so much that i do believe in, in a desperate and hopeful sort of way. When I became unwell and in difficulty in 2013 and 2014, I was unable to do much about this, but kept on slowly collating and gathering work and considering what to do with it all, and in what form. Work that would have taken hours would take days and weeks, but, bit by bit, in 10 or 15 minute 'blocks', I found and collated the written material, gathered it all together and put in in a box or two. I then sat and looked at it for a while. It looked back.
Nothing happened.
After a while, nothing happened again.
Nothing continued to happen for quite a while.
Then a chance comment to me from my Daughter's first teacher (see 'Poems of the Past' for a full explanation) slowly, like a tree falling over, goaded me into proper action and, well over a year later, that first collection (sic) was published. At the same time, this website was planned and is now, eventually, finally, online as well. Not complete, but at least in existence. I am not sure if there will be a T-Shirt at some point... (There is a Mug. Somewhere.)
Having thought long and hard about what would be reasonable to put on this page for you to 'taste', I came to the conclusion that what follows might be a good start. (And I would love to hear your thoughts on it if anyone reads this, and if any of those have any inclination to get in touch.) And in the recent year or so, this has been turned into a media work; music, narration and story all combining to take it to a different place. I really like what has been produced and when it is completed I'll post it on my YouTube Channel and will set up a link on the relevant sites.
Nomor & I
This was written some time ago but in two parts I think. I found a few type written pages of the story during the process for the first collection of short stories and came very close to discarding it.
But something made me read the first few lines and by the time I had finished it – and as you'll see it didn’t take long – I liked the symmetry, the way it ended but left itself open to more from Nomor et al so I thought I’d include it here – and it’s not like I have a lot available!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Finally. It was time. After all the waiting, after all the planning and preparation, it was (at last!) time for us to embark upon the greatest journey into the unknown that anyone had ever seen. Ever.
The end of year celebrations had gone well. In these, the coldest of days, much merry making and drinking had been indulged in and those I called friends and I had spent many an evening around the fire talking about the past, about all the time we had spent together, growing together, finding out about life and the what we knew of the world around us.
And we had all looked forward. Forward into the darkness that was the unknown journey which had then, on those cold dark evenings, seemed so long ago. So far into the future as to be like a dream; to be for someone else, involving someone else. Be for someone else.
And yet, here I was. Nominated as the best candidate to steer our craft through whatever it might encounter, I had practiced as best I could—but how can you practice for something that you had no experience, no measure, of?
In the last few days, we had spent all the time we could gathering items for our journey, and for what we thought we might find at our destination. Nomor (he is the leader of our little expedition) and I had spoken about who we should take with us, about who might be able to cope with the ‘unknowingness’ of it all.
There hadn’t been many candidates—but there they were. Many of them my friends, all of them now united in one common aim—to leave this, our home, and venture into the unknown, into whatever lay ahead.
The Caller sounded that the time was nearly upon us—there were but a few moments left before launch. I took one last look around at this, my home and my world for as long as I could remember. I knew it was unlikely that I would ever see this place, these friends I left behind, again. I took a deep breath and made my way through the crowd to where it lay.
Nomor said a few words (he likes the sound of his own voice I think) and those of us that were going clambered aboard the vessel that was to take us on the first part of our journey.
Long and wide it was. Curved and sleek and it was all we would know, all we could rely on, to take us on our journey. The faint green tinges now almost gone, it was fully yellow and had upon it all of our possessions (such as they were) and as much food as we could take.
Nomor and the elders had decreed that as we were an expedition, we could take only the barest things, clothing, food and a few mementos of home. Those we left behind would need all they had gathered for the coming whiteness, the coming cold. They could spare only a little for people like us, adventurers into the darkness, into the totally and wilfully unknown.
We all knew, even then, that we would never see home again.
The Caller (a young thing, half my age but with a good voice) once more called out the changing, and we all looked at the sea of faces that were our friends, our family, our life.
The ones that had asked to come with us, but who could not for whatever reason (too young, too old, those too afraid to finally leave the known for the unknown), had been given the honour of pushing us off on our journey. This was the first main challenge; our vessel was strong in so many ways, could survive (we hoped) the initial journey, but how long it would last, how long we could cling to it, was unknown and I had won my place by thinking how we could use the strength of our people to launch us into the void. Without them to help us move, we would be stuck as, once aboard, we could not then power ourselves away from our home.
The large structure that had been built at my control and to which we were attached was shivering, and I realised with a start that so was I. Fear or excitement? I did not know. The wide long piece that anchored us to our home was vibrating as we all moved away from the edge and into the centre of our vessel, as we had practiced dozens of times before.
Nomor called out to us, a quick sudden shout, as without any ceremony, the others were pushing, Straining, moving us as fast as they could towards the edge; cutting the last piece of link with home.
We looked back and saw that we were slipping from our mooring, that the nose of our vessel was beginning to sag, to aim downwards, and with a slight snap! we were free. I clutched onto my makeshift rudder as we began to spiral, down and down and down. Tumbling away from our lives as if they had never even been there.
I truly believe that none of our race had been as fast as we went then. Nomor said that he saw creatures and sight that none alive should ever see on that journey, and I… ah but that is a story for another time.
Safe to say that I steered us towards a place that some of our Learners had thought must be available for us to land on, As we fell, spinning, twisting, turning this way and that almost on the edge of control, I tried to keep us level but the wind had whipped us along far faster than anyone had anticipated.
I could not control our descent.
We were going to crash.
I called out to Nomor that I could not stop or slow us in time, and told everyone else to brace themselves as we had practised. People began to cry and laugh and talk loudly – all I’m sure to cover up the fear.
I was shaking as the unknown dark came up swiftly to meet us, and without any way of stopping, we hit the dark far faster that I would have liked.
Fortunately, we all survived and looked up. For the first time in our lives, we looked up. Perhaps for the first time in our world, our society, our civilisation, we looked above us for what was there.
The tree was bare, and having ridden the last leaf of the warm down into the unknown cold-to-be, there was now no way back. We could see none of our family and friends and no way back up.
Our only choice was to go on, to go out into the unknown and see what was there………….