What did you want to be?

When I was little, it took me a long time to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. My friends had their future careers picked out - I think one of them even ended up doing what they wanted to do.
Once I'd figured it out, I wanted to be a writer - more specifically, I wanted to be Lois Lane. Not a journalist, or a reporter, or even an author. It didn't matter that she was fictional; all the best people are.

Now I am older, and have learnt 'growing up' is entirely optional, I'd still like to be Lois Lane. She's a successful reporter, living it up on a seemingly best-selling newspaper in Metropolis (which was modelled on Toronto, but I always assumed it was a real place - somewhere near New Yoik) and the girl knows how to rock a bob cut. She's not without her flaws, of course, one major factor being unable to tell Clark sans spectacles is quite clearly Superman. Maybe she did notice, and never mentioned it. After all, nobody likes to blow someone's cover.

I've recently had a second piece accepted by The White Rabbit which will form part of a podcast coming soon. It was about heroes and villains and the ordinary folk who have to clear up the mess after Superman has caused chaos. I'll post a link when it's online - it will be available on iTunes in the early Autumn.

With heroes and villains in mind, and my own journalistic desires, this is my question to you: what did you want to be when you were little? Why? Are you doing it now? Would little you back then be happy with what big you does now?

Leave a comment or tweet me @ruthsedar using #IWantedToBe and let me know how many of you are astronauts, deep-sea adventurers, authors, doctors, shopkeepers, vets or police officers. I especially want to know about jobs you think are boring, but are fascinating to everyone else.

Copywriting is fun!

Recently I've been pretty busy writing the copy for an upcoming ad campaign - I can't divulge any details as the brief is still live.
Suffice to say - I really enjoyed writing it. I did wonder if the content would be off-putting as the copy had the potential to be a little 'dry' but it was a joy to write and it was a great remember that I am good at this.
I don't use italics lightly, you guys.

Exciting news!

I'm pleased to announce I am going to be doing one week's work experience at my company's press office in London for the launch of the new flagship store!
Better get brushing up on my shorthand on the train...

Tyranny of grammar

Why are adverbs so extremely, mind-numbingly, tediously boring and hideous?
Adverbs are the ones who leave the toilet seat up.
Adverbs are the shoelace you snap when trying to tie them.
Adverbs are wrong and need to be stopped.

Suffice to say I am doing a first edit of a short for submission and I seem to use adverbs as much in prose as I do in real life.

New submissions

My new work is another submission for Are You Sitting Comfortably? hosted by The White Rabbit. This time the theme is 'heroes and villains' and I'm taking a sideways look at what it means to be heroic in a world of superheroes. Are the heroes the ones with their pants over their tights? Or are they the normal people going to work and keeping the economy afloat? Are the villains always the ones laughing in an underground lair, or are they the people who look just like you and me?

I've also found a writing group near me and I am working on a piece on the theme of 'intrusion', which is proving difficult to avoid stereotypes and clumsy plot so  it needs a lot more thought.
I watch a lot of horror films (read: horror is the only genre I watch) so the theme is familiar to the point of being predictable - "What was that sound?" "Oh no, the serial killer is in the house!" The key is going to be avoiding cliché as much as possible.

Follow me on twitter for more ramblings and inspiration searching: @ruthsedar
Anything work or writing related is always tagged #amwriting but I am also prone to rudeness, swearing, tangents, observations and everything else. What I'm trying to say is I talk a lot.

Further adventures in caffeine

The girl poured a double measure of whisky - or brandy - into her coffee while no-one was looking.
I saw.
She saw me see her. I'm not saying anything.

I'm out quite late this afternoon to research any websites or publications taking open submissions this Spring - I tend to work better to a brief so I enjoy finding open ideas and having a think about what it means to me and how I can pull the story out.

Stories are always there - for me, it's like the Michelangelo thing: the statue is always there, in the piece of stone, and it's just up to the artist to uncover it. To paraphrase badly, that is.

Coffee holds my thoughts together and lets them string apart like mad bunting. This week I'm going to be working on my secondary WIP (work in progress) as my primary is sitting ignored on my external hard drive and there it shall remain until one day I gain the knowledge to be able to finish it.

My WIP is maybe a third through - it's a short story which is a dark comedy about what happens when you get what you really want. There's a goth, a doctor with sketchy morals and an elderly lady stuck in the middle. I'm not posting any snippets yet!

If you're listening?

I wanted to write about something personal today.

If you know me in person - and know me well - you will know I am fully deaf in my right ear.

I am either genetically half deaf or it's as a result of having mumps as a baby; doctors had no way of knowing when I was diagnosed as a kid. The proper term is unilateral hearing, because 'half deaf' is suggestive of 'half hearing', which really isn't the same thing.

My hearing doesn't affect my speech. It does affect my balance, meaning I walk like Bambi on ice when walking in heels, and it also means I can't ride a bike (a life-long annoyance as I would have loved a Pashley). It also means I have little to no directional hearing, so if you are behind me and call my name - I won't have a clue where you are. If I smile and nod, or say "Yeah!" to an open question, you'll know.

I lip read almost constantly. In busy places I need to sit by a wall to use it as a sounding board to bounce your voice. I have a habit of relentlessly tucking my hair behind my ears. I will always walk on your right. I zone out a lot of the time; simply because I have stopped listening. Actively concentrating is exhausting. I have awful tinnitus, probably from years of standing at the front at gigs as a teenager.

What has this got to do with writing? Not a lot, to be honest.
I just wanted to share something to clear up any misconceptions about deafness.

1) It isn't funny. No disability is funny. Saying "What?" or "Pardon?" to someone after they have told you they have partial hearing is about as funny as making rude gestures at someone who is partially blind.

2) Shouting really doesn't help. Just enunciate properly.

3) Active listening has lead me into different career paths. As a journalist, I had to constantly listen for the main point. As a retail manager, I listen to my staff, my customers and people passing outside. It also makes me an excellent eavesdropper.

4) Extremely busy environments are a nightmare. Crowds, pubs, the underground. Trying to pinpoint the voice of who I'm speaking to while trying to ignore everything else is really hard.

5) You don't instantly get another freakishly strong sense when one is weaker - I have normal vision and I don't have a wolf-like sense of smell. People with partial senses are not the X-Men.

6) It's an invisible disability. I'm not registered disabled as there is no point; it doesn't affect my life to the extent of it being noticeable.

The next time someone tells you they are deaf, or have partial hearing, don't say "What?" with a grin. You don't have to say anything at all. Just smile and nod. "Yeah!"