Authenticity

We want to believe.

We crave loyalty.

We need assurance.

We are human after all.

  • In creating characters in fictional tales, those that resonate with the reader are the characters who are either perceived as most authentic in their expressions of truth or deception.  Literature mirrors the fabric of humanity highlighting concerns on the human condition creating understanding and connections with the reader. Readers want to identify with characters in the books they read to keep hopes and aspirations alive.

 

  • In conversation, the following were identified as underpinning the expression of authenticity

#  motives,
#  relationships
#  sincerity

What does it truly mean to be an authentic person?

Fifteen character components that I identify as essential in this quest for personal authenticity or that which you create in your characters could include:

 

  • being true to yourself first before you can be true to others
  • going it alone even if you are the only person in the room holding a different view
  • saying you can’t do it anymore or that you need assistance
  • risking friendship by saying you feel used or need to be heard.
  • being proud of one’s origins, culture and values
  • acknowledging the presence of others
  • being comfortable in your own skin
  • being truly happy for others in all they accomplish
  • embracing diversity/ withholding judgment on race, culture, religion, sexual orientation, disability, political affiliation, socio- economic standing
  • greeting with a smile that extends from the soul to the eyes to the mouth
  • upholding the truth as it is
  • not allowing fear to govern choices
  • protecting vulnerability rather than exploiting it.
  • reaching out to those in need even if you don’t have enough for yourself
  • striving to be the best version of yourself.

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How Difficult is it to be Authentic?

It does not require one to renounce worldly aspirations nor live like a saint or hermit.
Being authentic is simply being you, not a carbon print of someone else or living up to the expectations of others.

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If you are always trying to be normal you will never know how amazing you can be- Maya Angelou

To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.- Ralph Waldo Emerson

There is nothing more rare, nor more beautiful, than a woman being unapologetically herself; comfortable in her perfect imperfection. To me, that is the essence of true beauty.- Dr. Steve Maraboli

Enjoy the lyrics that beautifully and simply says it:

Enjoy!

 

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Should your brave new world of being true to yourself be feared?

Only if you lose – your way – yourself – in a sea of manipulation and deception. The character, Meryl in Across Time and Space undergoes a steep learning curve to emerge as…I leave you to find out…and the sequel will reveal more.
When you are surrounded by authentic people, you feel the positive vibration around you. This energy allows you to flourish. Separating the wheat from the chaff comes with life experience as you glide towards the true, the real you.

 

Here’s to creating enhanced versions of ourselves and the characters we create

 

 

Energising Creative Thought

 

Here are a few practical suggestions to a question posed this week which is a significant and very real concern:

‘How to centre yourself and clear your thoughts before writing?’

  • The time of day when your energy levels are high and you are rested is a good time to sit down to gather your thoughts.
  • Have a plan for what you hope to achieve for that particular writing session- is it a paragraph, a chapter or some research on a new idea? I have a skeleton plan of what I would like to create in my chapters- this is done through dot points which help to structure my thoughts that I build upon as I write.
  • Keep a journal on random thoughts that emerge each day.

 

  • If gathering your thoughts hits a roadblock, try this exercise:
  1. Look around the room you are in – what object catches your eye, write a brief description of that object using as many sensory images as you can come up with – visual, auditory, olfactory, tactile.
  2. Consider why you might have been drawn to that object – Colour? Shape? Associated memory? Who was the person who might have given you the object or where and when it became yours?
  3. Write a paragraph on the size, shape, colour, ownership and memory associated with the object.
  4. Record your thoughts, in your phone or other recording device, by speaking about the object first,  then write them down as you hear it on your recording adding on  the ideas as you go.
  • If this does not spark your creative energy, pick up a book, turn to any page and read the first line – stop – absorb – now write down what you think might happen next.
  • A quiet space, undisturbed, gives voice to your thoughts to pick up the pen or tap on your keyboard, a quiet space will lead to thoughts being centred where the noise of a crowded space might distract  creative thought. This also depends on whether you can work with complete stillness, as I do, you might find a bustling coffee shop, as the protagonist, Meryl,  in my novel, Across Time and Space, does suitable to creative thought  if undisturbed by intrusive newcomers like the infamous, ‘roving professor’.
  • Once you find the space that is conducive to creative thought, tune into your inner clock, establish a rhythm to clear and centre your thoughts. If this does not happen in one sitting, go back later, or the next day – persistence and consistency is the key.

The most potent muse of all is our inner childStephen Nachmanovitch 

Happy Writing!

 

 

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Unforgettable

Nelson Mandela’s name was and remains magical to the tongue, heart, and mind, to all who lived in hope of acceptance, tolerance, understanding, and democracy. Amidst the much-anticipated release of Nelson Mandela from incarceration into civilian life, a life of iconic stature, I waited with bated breath.   South Africa exploded in a tidal wave of celebration creating a carnival atmosphere of street dancing, a cappella singing and a profound sense of unity!

The early 1980s was conscientised by the ideology that students were the voice of a nation – students could improve the human condition that prevailed in South Africa by raising their voices in a cry for democracy, freedom, the right to vote and be accepted as human with no references to race,  to be acknowledged by nationality – simply ‘South African’.

The release of Nelson Mandela was palpable.   The moment hung on the ears and lips of a nation whose citizens were shunted into ‘Group Area’ zonings in a country where the Immorality Act made love across the colour line a crime.

Amidst the celebratory mood that prevailed, one night stands out as a flaring beacon, etched in memory.

Nelson Mandela was visiting the community I lived in, he was to address residents in this little monocultural town, to quell fear and spread wisdom that a peaceful transition to democracy was essential.

Throngs gathered outside the venue from around midday to secure a spot to see this iconic man in the flesh. He was the timeless hope alive in the human breast of apartheid oppression.

At 6:30 pm in strode a tall, lean, upright figure, smiling broadly, waving a greeting like a father returning to his family after a day at work.

The community hall erupted in an emotional outpouring of song and dance  – men, women, and children wept as wave after hypnotic wave of:  ‘O, Mandela!  O, Mandela! O, Mandela! rose in a unified chant to the rooftop and beyond into the night sky.

Strangers hugged each other and shook hands. I stood up on a chair to get a better view of Nelson Mandela, holding onto my little girl and husband both of whom were immersed in the jubilation of that moment – here was the man who held the promise of an end to suffering, the urgency for literacy for all, the hope for justice and equity regardless of race, gender, socio-economic status, ethnicity, culture, sexual orientation and religion. We waited for him through long, dark and terrible days…

The soaring joy of that moment lives in my psyche – the legend enshrined in my parents’ home was now before me, in the flesh, smiling, humble,  caressing all with love and hope, without a trace bitterness from the solitude of twenty-seven years of incarceration with hard labour– his soul was unmarred. Here was the symbol of grace, dignity, compassion, and warmth, spreading the word by his very presence–  one can make a difference regardless of the challenges faced.

To denounce the identity, contributions, and presence of a people is tantamount to obliterating their very existence – such was the horror and brutality of the apartheid era in South Africa and many such oppressed nations around the world.

 Basking in the light of Nelson Mandela’s presence, I was as proud of my identity and the colour of my skin, as was every other person in that small community hall – those who had endured the full blight of oppression.

I have relived that moment –  of seeing the gigantic Nelson Mandela, many times in my life – it’s the wind in my sails, the fuel in my tank, it keeps me whole and free…

#RIPMADIBA (b.18/7/1918)

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Imagine Being There

 

Place in a story is vital to ground where and why characters react to or create situations which drive the plot of a story. Within identified locations, characters become loved or despised for the actions and reactions they indulge in.

People connect to a place for an array of reasons because it holds the memory of:

  • a brilliant childhood/not so brilliant childhood
  • first love/first break-up
  • marriage/honeymoon/divorce
  • travelling to landscapes or geographic locations where culture, cuisine, architecture, history or local people either inspire or horrify
  • favourite authors/celebrities who lived in those settings
  • the stories heard or read about  places making them part of one’s experience
  • loss and grief
  • spirituality
  • the devastation of war and politics
  • personal heritage associated with a place
  • the comfort of home, a bedroom, a garden, study

The reasons are endless making it necessary when writing a story to anchor it in a specific place or a few places to create a sense of physical reality for the reader. Place, in fiction, does not have to be grounded in a real geographic location, the sights, sounds and smells –  odours or aromas of a place will bring it to life for the reader based on how effective the sensory imagery is in connecting the reader to the context of the action.

 

 

The lines below portray an inescapable landscape that confines and stifles. The narration indicates familiarity with a place which makes it experiential for the reader through the author’s specific framing of location. Here, the place is named creating the reality the reader craves, when a place remains unnamed, evocative sensory imagery creates a link in the reader’s imagination.

The heat in the street was terrible, and dust was all about him, and that special Petersburg stench, so familiar to all who are unable to get out of town in summer –Author, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment.

 

 In the creation of a fictional place the writer is the creative camera lens, beginning with a wide view, then zooming into backstreets before giving close up consideration to:

  • Demography – who will be created in this terrain- will it be a multicultural environment? What morals and values might come to light,  is there an alternate way of thinking endorsed by a group?
  • What is the socio-economic dynamic of this place?
  • What’s the weather like?
  • What sounds are heard in this place?
  • Is this a city or rural setting- what other aspects will you include to define this landscape?
  • Is it a busy or laid back place?
  • Is this a contemporary world or a lost and forgotten world?

Let the reader reach his or her own conclusion but be sure to add drama to most scenes and emotions that characters go through- this will allow the reader to speculate why particular locations elicit human reactions the way they do.

I leave you with these lines that reveal the human condition through the words of Alan Paton in his  novel, Cry the Beloved Country:

The great red hills stand desolate, and the earth has torn away like flesh. The lightning flashes over them, the clouds pour down upon them, the dead streams come to life, full of the red blood of the earth. Down in the valleys, women scratch the soil that is left, and the maize hardly reaches the height of a man. They are valleys of old men and old women, of mothers and children. The men are away, the young men and the girls are away. The soil cannot keep them anymore.

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Is Commitment on Your Agenda?

Across Time and Space explores commitment in relationships in romance, friendship and family relationships. Whether or not it leads to the commitment of, ‘I do’ – commitment is a primal need in relationships for one to feel valued. The protagonist in Across Time and Space has been in a relationship for a length of time, a comfortable, complacency envelopes the relationship creating restlessness that becomes the catalyst for unimagined challenges.

This begs the question, does commitment mean unstinting devotion and loyalty akin to ‘til death do us part?’ The answers are vast and varied depending on the values one has embraced or formed.

Being raised in a time and place which instilled that a promise of commitment meant fulfilment of that promise on a nominated, ceremonial day which comes with its own merits and flaws. This might be considered ‘old world’ or fit for ‘Cinderella and her Prince Charming’, yet the expectation is that couples will unite or commit in a way they deem appropriate to both of them. Yes, the operative word is both – not ‘one’ making a decision, on a whim, that life’s path has beckoned a change for ‘one’ without consideration for how this might impact on the other half of both. Such is the life of the protagonist in Across Time and Space and her partner – good people in their own right who buckle under the fear of commitment, fear for the loss that might be incurred in all that has yet to be achieved in life.

This leads me to why should commitment be feared as the end to individuality and relinquishing of one’s dreams? Commitment should encompass all spheres of one’s life in relationships: singular and joint dreams, commitment to professional ideals and commitment to going off on a whim if its one’s choice to do so by acknowledging that both need to be aware of such changes. Meryl, in  Across Time and Space will clarify the choices she makes to catch the star of her destiny that she feared might never be realised in her lifetime.

Commitment can have its dark and dangerous side when passion overrides reason. This brings to mind Catherine and Heathcliffe in Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights where both are inextricably and destructively hemmed to each other. Stepping outside literature as we turn on our televisions to the reality of the evening news or an online article on domestic violence which results from unhealthy commitment which is power and control. Supposed commitment, commitment without reason creates a dark, terrible and often tragic situation.

Commitment in family relationships be it as mother, father, grandparent, carer or extended family member should be based on trust, approval, open communication and support from love shared  to promote good mental health.

Love, respect and freedom of choices are a right that should not be debated, it’s a basic human right – a human right that should acknowledge commitment to respectful consideration through communication  before heading off alone into the sunset.

Commitment to values  includes commitment to the values of place, the place we call home – the country- the city- the street- our backyards. It is often those who cannot commit on a personal level who cannot commit to democracy, justice and a fair go.

Reason should always caution passion, dreams should be lived for peace and joy to reign for both halves in any relationship and for all in our choice of place that we call home.

What’s your take on commitment to all things in life?  I would love to know your thoughts.

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Why We Write, Why We Read

 

The oasis of literature we have been reading since time immemorial  inspires us to continue reading, be it a writer of choice, genre or writer’s style that draws us into the writer’s world, forming connections to events, people and places. Inspiration gained leads the reader’s quest to search for meaning in novels, plays and poems. When discovered, a universal consciousness emerges to tell us we are indeed not alone or different.

 

Writing makes a difference when given thoughtful and respectful consideration

 

The writing urge and process emanate from a place that resides deep in the soul of the writer. It could be a major world event or a passing incident that triggers an emotional connection, thus fueling the passionate purpose to create understanding which fosters human connectedness. This motivates tireless hours of writing. A message, when written from the heart has the potential to inspire and reverberate across time and space.

Voices and visions of human atrocities never die, they visit as the muse that beckons the creation of stories, plays and poems on suffering, fear, loss, hope, and above all, renewal.

 

Literature, through the writer’s lens, has the power to provide profound life lessons while entertaining the reader. 

 

Writing with passion in the voices and visions from different contexts suggest that we are indeed connected, regardless of our geographical location or ethnicity. A universal consciousness provides clarity, anytime, anywhere, to anyone, on the necessity to improve the human condition.

 

The written word should unify rather than divide.

 

Happy Reading, Happy Writing

 

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Women You are More

 

 

It has been a good week reading and hearing the voices that speak up and out about acknowledging women in literature and in every professional, political and social sphere. The momentous global Women’s Marches this year are indicative that times have indeed changed, however, silence or ‘Feminism Lite’ as warned by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, subvert the right of a woman to proudly be herself, to be seen and heard for what she believes is good for her.

 

 

 

She has music in her soul and justice in her blood

 

Ironically the media on this day, 10 March 2017, has reported, much to the chagrin in many quarters of society, that stay at home mums,  are draining the country of much-needed skills. This understating of the role stay at home mums play in raising children, raising the next generation to be upstanding citizens and contributors to the world of tomorrow is questioned and frowned upon as not making a valuable contribution to society and hindering the economy?

This says that the War of Women against such opinions, studies and other such claims is an ongoing battle. Margaret Atwood’s states that The Handmaid’s Tale is more relevant than ever and Jude Kelly, theatre director and producer enlightens in a TedWomen talk on  ‘Why Women should tell stories of humanity’. 

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My Tribute to YOU

  • YOU are amazing in all you juggle in your day
  • YOU are amazing in the boundless energy and strength you demonstrate
  • YOU are amazing for your selfless dedication to your profession, family, friends, community
  • YOU endure each day with no complaints with an ever-ready smile for others
  • YOU are the rock when things fall apart
  • YOU are kind, generous and loving
  • YOU are SPECIAL –  NOBODY can take that away.

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 I leave you with two powerful messages from MEN on the significance of YOU

THE HAND THAT ROCKS THE CRADLE IS THE HAND THAT RULES THE WORLD.

BLESSINGS on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace.
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;
Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Infancy’s the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mother’s first to guide the streamlets,
From them, souls unresting grow—
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Woman, how divine your mission,
Here upon our natal sod;
Keep—oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky—
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world

-William Ross Wallace (1819-1881)

As long as outmoded ways of thinking prevent women from making a meaningful contribution to society, progress will be slow. As long as the nation refuses to acknowledge the equal role of more than half of itself, it is doomed to failure.’

– Nelson Mandela (1918-2013)

‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ Moment

 

Going to the movies for the first time was a landmark moment in many ways. Living during the ‘Group Areas Act’ era in South Africa meant living in racially segregated suburbs. Going to the Grand Theatre on the upper end of town implied being in the same space – somewhat anyway with white residents. This anticipated visit to the Grand Theatre generated tremendous excitement in a young child’s world to see, yes that’s right, ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarves!’

 

Apart from being a momentous event in a young child’s life, it came as an awakening event that dwells deep in memory resurfacing with vigour when situations trigger the enlivening of such a memory.

 

Two queues lined up to buy tickets for the show – one ‘Whites only’ queue, the other, ‘Non- Whites only’ just as the local park benches and public toilets were labeled. This negative, exclusion labeling applied to the airport arrival and departure terminals areas too.

The stares across the racially segregated ticket purchase queues are remembered with the awkwardness and need to keep one’s eyes downcast for fear – fear that if the stare was returned it might be perceived as ‘doing the wrong thing, an unlawful act’ – such was the fear the dark child of apartheid felt.

 

Entry into the movie theatre, needless to say, had its separate entrance too, this time the Non-White entrance led to a flight of 100 steps up to the gallery. Non-Whites had to sit in the upstairs gallery while White patrons to the theatre sat in spacious seats downstairs. In the early teenage years, this ignited the child’s connection to Harper Lee’s ‘To Kill a Mockingbird,’ when Tom Robinson was on trial. Non-White folk who were confined to the upstairs gallery in the tightly packed Maycomb courthouse was reminiscent of the segregation at the Grand Theatre in the dark days of apartheid South Africa.

 

Peering over the upstairs railing from the high in the sky gallery, childlike curiosity prompted the voyeur within to see how ‘the other side lived’. Thinking back to that moment stirs the soul with sadness – the distance between the upstairs gallery, out of sight from the downstairs gallery, a hundred steps up – no stairway to heaven for an asthmatic child or aging grandparent who lovingly accompanied grandchildren on this momentous visit to the movies.
Snow White and the dwarves transported the child into a magical world leaving behind the racially divided queues and hidden away, out of view, sky-high seating.

 

Growing up in a racially aware, politicised home where Nelson Mandela’s release from prison lived in the hearts and minds of most adults, had a huge impact on the child. Non-White parents put aside their deeply felt grievances with grace and dignity to ensure their children were not denied the joys of seeing and experiencing the fairy tales they loved, come to life on the silver screen, albeit in a racially segregated theatre, so far removed from the reality of their daily lives.

 

Social justice was born from a perception of deeply felt social injustice in the child’s psyche on that very day, the day that Snow White made her debut on the big screen in a little town in South Africa.

 

Atticus Finch soon became Nelson Mandela of the Rainbow Nation where black and white exploded into a palette of many colours – merging in love, acceptance, kindness,  and tolerance.

 

Such were the days of the child’s early childhood in a country racially divided, decreed by the law of the land.

 

Walk away from hatred and unkindness, you deserve better, you have much to offer the world, walk away with grace and dignity to preserve your soul, walk away to love, acceptance and  kindness, walk away to a better world that awaits you…- MN

We all have stories to tell. What’s your story?

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Fertilising the Imagination

 

When access is denied, imagination provides fertile ground for creativity.

The absence of television in apartheid South Africa was strategic, to keep the masses ignorant regarding democracy and justice in a bid to thwart the emerging voices of resistance. Avid reading and listening to the radio for recreation offered many hours of joy in a world where outdoor games were limited in apartment blocks.

 

 

My About page with a brief biography on my origins as born in South Africa meant that I had a childhood in an era devoid of a television set in the family lounge room. The only ‘moving pictures’ apart from the local cinema were those created in my imagination.

 

Radio held its own fascination with the popular weekly, Friday evening, crime fiction episodes of, Squad Cars. I listened intently, forming images in my mind about places and situations in each episode. My rite of reading passage into the world of crime depicted through voices and sounds grew each week. Crime/Detective/Adventure fiction in children’s books from the Famous Five series to Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys and ultimately Agatha Christie’s and Edgar Allen Poe’s short stories were hunted down each week at the local library. Visions of snaking queues of children lining up, thirsty for their favourite book is imprinted in my memory. Such were the days…

After school radio programs for children were eagerly anticipated, excitement gained momentum with the chatter of voices speculating what  Noddy (by Enid Blyton) would be getting up to and whether Mr. Plod, the policeman’s kind and watchful eye over Toyland would save another day. Empathy for the skittles who did not seem to care whenever they were run over, filled my waking and sleeping hours. The imagination was ablaze with stories that wove into the stories of my mind’s eye. The imagination was fertilised with self-created images of places, characters, and events. An emotional investment of compassion for those who struggled or were mistreated and revulsion for those who harmed others was set in motion.

Listening and reading awakened the inner being as fodder for the imagination in the years ahead in the creation of my own stories – in the adult years, I turn back to my own voice recordings of my reactions to places I have visited, places that I have been moved by, to mulch and refresh an evocative sense of place through the voices and visions of my characters.

Audio books are a blessing, like reading is, to supercharge the imagination for a personal take on people, places, and events that ‘moving pictures,’ with all its commendable grandeur, might not quite fuel.

‘Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere’- Albert Einstein

What do you think?

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Beyond the Bewitching Hour

 

 

Have you tried reading beyond the bewitching hour when a hush rests upon your home, all are sound asleep – the only light being your reading lamp setting the page aglow?

Books take on a life of their own when you have undisturbed reading pleasure. Places invite you in, characters entice your entrance into their worlds – you yield  – you enter this magical realm free from the mundane responsibilities of daily existence.

The time spent wrapped inside the pages of a world you enter and leave at will, exudes forbidden pleasure away from the gaze of the world. Each new page, each new chapter, begs you to go on with the promise that hidden discoveries will surface.  Days pass, weeks pass, the tension mounts, emotions are unleashed and you read on – you wipe away a tear, you break out in a smile, you breathe deeply as you smell, see, taste and relish this world you cannot extract yourself from.

The book falls, your head slides off the pillow, you waft off into a deep sleep.

 

Photo credit: Sandro Schuh (Unsplash)

 

The sun comes up, the alarm clock goes off – the day beckons – your book sits silently up against your bedside drawer waiting for your return on the other side of the bewitching hour.

Until then… See you beyond the bewitching hour when the pages of your book are aglow…

Are you a night reader?

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