Where I'm at...

SO...where to begin. I last blogged here some time way back in 1957 when food was short. Oh, no that wasn't me that was someone else. September 2007 was the last time I bothered to write anything here and that my friends is because I was focusing on my website http://www.tinafreeth.com/ and writing for my friends' amusement. If you look at my guestbook on that site, it's all my pals saying 'well done' etc, etc. I paid them half a sixpence to tell me how great I am. I think a lot of people were shocked that I created my own website. But hey, I'll try anything once.

I'll do a brief summary of the months preceding this one so you can catch up on the thing I call 'life', sometimes I call it 'flailing cows intestine soup'...

October - was manic depressive. I was part of two events at the Birmingham Book Festival, which was really amazing for someone like me, who was all new and starry eyed (still have one star in my eye) to the literary world. It was going well, then, suddenly my roots were yanked out and I had to dismantle my rundown and manky childhood home as my dad was offered a place in sheltered housing. It was perfect, but it was very painful at the same time.

November - I spent three hours at Heathrow and on a bus, with this circus (slash) actor (slash) dancer (slash) stripper gay guy that I'd been in love with since 2003. He was transfering from the airport to a cruise ship. Not a gay cruise I'm told. I'd been to see him, whereever he was, every year since we'd met (I'd flown to LA. Montreal and Taipei to see him), or he'd come here to visit me here - so that was nice, but weird. Three hours....probably the perfect amount of time really. We didn't want to kill each other for a change. When the book is written you can read all about this strange relationship we had. Other than that, I can't think of any other defining thing that happened in November, how sad is that? I got business cards, that was kinda sorta exciting...I learnt in Taiwan that everyone has to have business cards! Joined local gym, hoping to be ten stone or under sometime soon.

December - Obviously Christmas came and (thankfully) went. I always say I'm boycotting it, but I never do. I lost my cat Mo for three days, I roamed the streets calling 'Mo! Mo! Come back Mo!' - she came back on Boxing Day, emaciated and walking like she was drunk. Had she been to a cat's only piss up? I had three Taiwanese people, a Chinese friend, my dad and a Moroccan over for Christmas dinner. It was not as diverse as the Christmas before with Congolese and Japanese guests. Oh I had the flu over the festive period too. It kicked my ass.

January - I handed in my notice at the British Red Cross as I wanted to focus more on my writing and even though I loved the cause and the people I worked with, it was more responsibility than I wanted. I decided that my years as a fundraiser should come to an end. The charity world will see me again, but not for some time (I'm still volunteering, I'm out with my fancy bucket on friday as it happens). I still want to start my own charity some day but I need to do a lot more work on mysel before that happens. I went to the launch of BBCN (British Born Chinese Network). I also received a Wing Yip bursary which was brilliant as the students that apply and win are always the best in their field. I would say I've little competition in my field. There aren't many BBC writers out there. I started work supporting disabled students temporarily, and wonderfully I've chosen all arty students which is helping me be more creative too. I started ashtanga yoga and that is what I want to write about when I started this post...but once again, I digress...

February - no Valentines for me. But I wasn't shocked. I've only ever received one card in my entire life and that was from a friend who did it out of pity. Went to London to see Varekai which was the first Cirque Du Soleil show I'd ever seen, it was in L.A last time with that gay guy. I've seen six others since then in Birmingham, Montreal, and San Francisco. It's a enchanting show. I met Lord Melvyn Bragg of Wigton and gave him a copy of 'Original Skin' the Anthology my story is in. He's very charming and I'll make more of an effort to watch him on the tele now that I've met him. He does have amazing hair. I didn't know this was common knowledge, anyway, it's true.

That brings us up to date - It's now March and I feel like I'm working like a nutter. I'm working on two scripts (ten minutes or less) for a BBC Writersoom initiative. Part of me knows that I am once again I've gone for the affirmative action route. Is that wrong of me? I've being fortunate because there is a need for British Born Chinese writers to be writing. I know a couple of BBCs who have heard of Helen Tse, who wrote Sweet Mandarin (a memoir) and the BBC have a writer called Jo Ho whose short films are great. The BBC is actively looking, and that's great. When I studied at Berkeley in California, I always wondered why Chinese-Americans were more prolific in the arts and in creating a voice for themselves then us BBCs over here. There is a general feeling that Chinese children aren't encouraged to be artistic (except perhaps to go to ballet or to learn the flute like affluent white, upper middle-class kids). I was fortunate to have parents that didn't really care what I wanted to do. My dad is happy now I'm writing, but he thought I'd make a good air steward, my legs are too man-like for that job. I'm taking part in BBC Videonation too. I'm doing a SCRIPT screenwriting course during the weekends and I want to get a Penguin submission in by April as well as a couple other articles I have to write. AND I've about a hundred ideas for childrens books as I've been working as a support worker in a class where students have to design and make a childrens book. It's been inspiring being around creative and enthusiatic people. Manic! I just wanna be paid to write. My perfect day at the moment would look something like this:

Tina awakes with the sunlight held back behind her thin white curtains. The kids next door cannot be heard screaming at their mom, perhaps they got up for school this morning without fuss. Tina merrily skips downstairs to the front room which is warm and inviting. Lighting her nag champa she devotes herself to an hour and a half yoga pratice, followed by a brief swim in the pool and a stint in the sauna. She then has a healthy breakfast, roasted museli, made by good friend Rena who has supplied her with enough for one year! Tina then has lunch in a well-lit and friendly cafe where classical music plays in the background. She sits with her laptop (that isn't slow on that particular day) and types for five hours straight. Her story is perfect and not in need of editing or revision (obviously this is fictional). The story is e-mailed to someone with lots of money who then wire transfers an amount (6 figures) to Tina's Swiss bank account. During the evening she relaxes with friends, hosting a dinner party where the catering is carried out by gourmet chefs from the Andes. When the guests leave she begins to paint abstract shapes over her spare room where she converses with the dead.


I'm going to bed now....tired.