The Year I Turned 18 - Cally Jackson's blogfest

Firstly, HAPPY HALLOWEEN everyone!! Now down to business!

"The Big Smoke"
by Cally Jackson

Between October 29th and November 2nd Cally Jackson is hosting the "The Year I turned 18" blogfest. There's a $20 Amazon gift card as a prize, so you may want to sneak in an entry of your own! There is also a coupon for all entries to download Cally Jackson's new adult novel THE BIG SMOKE for the bargain price of $0.99. Totally cool! Click on the link up there for more info on the requirements of participation!

1998: the year of travel and couch potato-ing.

This is such a fun idea for a blogfest, and I'm excited to share with you what I did during the year I turned 18. That year was 1998, and I was fresh outta high school. Most of my classmates were either getting jobs or starting their first year of university. But while I had my acceptance letters from various universities, and had chosen one to call home, I'd also decided to defer my studies for all of 1998. For me, 1998 was to be the year of the post-high school comedown, a chance to gather some reserves in preparation for "real life", and...a chance to travel!

My Dad and I had been planning an 8-stop trip around the world for a while. For Dad, it was a driving-themed journey - as a driving instructor and what I'd venture to call a "road scientist", he wanted to prove that age didn't matter, and that 17-year-olds could drive around the world just like adults. His plan was to have me drive in New York City, on the German autobahn, around the Arc d'Triomphe and through London's Hyde Park Corner, etc.. My plan, meanwhile, was just to see a whole heap of the world in one go and have a serious adventure.

17-year-old me in Switzerland, 1998.

We left home on February 2nd, 1998, and drove across Australia. Next we moved onto the North Island of New Zealand. From Auckland we flew to Los Angeles, and from there crisscrossed the U.S.A. and had all sorts of adventures (see parts 1 & 2 of this commentary). Flying back out of Los Angeles we headed for England, then onto France, Luxbembourg (I think), Germany, Switzerland, and Italy (with some repeats).

The journey was meant to last a total of 6 or so months, and for Dad it did, but after a "slight" emotional breakdown in Europe I decided to cut my journey short. I do partly regret this, but then, I really was homesick and bone-weary, and I felt much happier knowing I was heading back home. I missed my Mummy. :)

Dad and I in Paris, 1998.

In hindsight I can say that this was the most amazing journey I've ever been on. Sure, I did a 15-stop world trip on my own a few years later, which was truly incredible, but this 1998 trip was a special journey - I travelled with my Dad, saw some truly phenomenal sights, and drove all over the world at just 17.

I did actually turn 18 during this year, in case you're wondering, but by that point I was at home again and participating with great success in the Couch Potato Olympics. I knew after all that as of 1999 I'd be studying again, so this was my last chance to really vegetate. For me, 1998 was an awesome year.

Me in Switzerland, 1998 (yes, I've always been a face puller).

Spooktoberfest is here! (feat. flash fiction)

Woohoo!! Fun times are afoot today, because it's the start of the Spooktoberfest blogfest, hosted by Jackie Felger and Dani Bertrand. The aim of this game is to write a piece of flash fiction (300 words or less) that contains the following 5 words:

cobweb(s), cauldron(s), jack-o-latern(s), ghost(s), razor(s)

For more info, check out the link above! There is a really cool prize for the winner, too, and it's international!

Anyway, here is my entry, which according to Microsoft Word is 296 words long:

Ghosts of annoying lovers past assault me as I step out into the steamy cauldron of a spring day in Perth, head pounding with a nauseating hangover. Puffy white clouds leer at me like jack-o-lanterns from overhead and I glower to show the world just what I think. 

Why is it always me who has to do the walk of shame? Why don’t these one night stands ever happen at my place? And why must I always be the ultimate cliché and lose a shoe somewhere along the way? 

I hobble gingerly along a weedy garden path to the front gate and push through it, crying out in pain as a stray bit of wire digs its razor-blade sharpness into my right love handle. I take a moment, closing my eyes and drawing deep breaths to clear the cobwebs from my mind. And to try to unclench this damn jaw. ‘Cause this is no way to start off a day. 

Suddenly a high-pitched voice calls out from a short distance away—a horribly familiar voice: “Martha? Is that you?!” 

I open my eyes and no, I haven’t imagined it—that really is my mother across the street, squinting at me in confusion then disbelief. Frantically I look around for a street sign and find one. Dread flowers inside me as I realise why last night’s conquest looked so familiar. Mum’s best friend’s son really has grown into a hottie. But now I know he lives across the road from his mother—directly across the road—and if his bad morning breath wasn’t a deal breaker, this totally is. 

“Martha! I don’t believe it.” Mum’s completely scandalised. “Why are you— How— Where is your shoe?” 

Fitting, really, that today is October 31^st. Halloween has never been scarier.

Kyra Lennon's "Letting Go" bloghop

Today is the "Letting Go" bloghop, hosted by Kyra Lennon in celebration of the release of her novella If I Let You Go. Originally this little story was going to be released today, but because she and the rest of us couldn't wait, she brought the release date forward a bit. You can read more about Kyra's writing over at her blog on the "My Books" page.

Here are the rules for this bloghop:

"On October 22nd, I invite you to share some stories about letting go. Was there a time when you had to let go of someone or something? How did it make you feel? How did you handle it? Or if that's too personal - which I completely understand - how about writing a piece of flash fiction?  

The only rules are - obviously - it has to be related to letting go, and please keep it to a maximum of 500 words." - Kyra Lennon

And here's my contribution:

Your wind-down windows RSI-d me

Just like that ‘old skool’ steering wheel

In cursed summer we boiled together

And climbing hills was pretty tough

I called you Little One, ‘so tiny!’

My first car that I bought myself

You did me proud, my little bubby

And only with a tear did I let you go

That was a day I said hello

To a brand spankin’ new Yaris, yo

In 2009, yes, a while ago now

A truly emotional moment in time!

And though I love my auto windows

My awesome air-con/power steering

I often think of you and wonder

Just what you are doing now

Maybe you are all around me

On scrap heaps near and far, but

I like to think you’re doing better

My blue-green friend out in the world

In closing, yes, this poem’s crappy

But I know you don’t care!

Did I Notice Your Book? - blogfest

Today is the Did I Notice Your Book? blogfest hosted by Ciara Knight, the mastermind behind the DINYB series, and Ninja Captain Alex J. Cavanaugh. The idea is to pick a book that isn't yet on the New York Times bestsellers list, and advertise it on our blogs. We're not supposed to contact the author directly to let them know what we're doing, but wait and see if they find out on their own!

My reasons for choosing this book:

• The title
• The cover (and yeah, I hate summer, and already live by a beach, but still, I was enticed)
• The blurb!

Aaaand the book I've chosen is: Honeymoon for One by Beth Orsoff.

Being ditched at the altar is the least of Lizzie Mancini’s problems. Sitting in a Caribbean jail cell accused of murdering her “pretend” husband, however, is at the top of the list.

After her real groom jilts her, Lizzie decides to go solo on their Belize honeymoon and meets handsome Michael Garcia, who is nursing his own heartache. To avoid the bleakness of dining and sightseeing alone, as well as questions from nosy, if well-meaning, fellow guests at the couples-only resort, the two agree to pose as newlyweds for the week—no strings (or sex) attached.

The plan runs smoothly until Lizzie enjoys the attentions of the local scuba instructor and Michael’s body washes ashore. Suddenly the “Mrs.” is mistakenly ID’d as suspect numero uno. With the Polizia Nationale ready to close the case and cook her goose, Lizzie will have to solve the crime herself.

Unexpected romance and international intrigue are center stage in Beth Orsoff’s mystery caper that takes “’til death do us part” to a whole new level.