At 5am When The Universe Talks.

I surfaced from an odd, bag of weary bones sleep this morning, my eyes fluttered open to darkness and silence. I lay there and wondered why I had woken so early, my wondering only broken by the occasional fitful turn. I think it was probably due to a pesky sinus-clogging cold which has left my teeth feeling loose and achy.
So I lay there for a time, one part of me adamantly wanting to go back to sleep, and the other part grumbling "not gonna happen", ache, groan, piss, moan. Then my mind became less webby and I started thinking about the day ahead.

Then some words appeared, drifting up from a dark dreamlike place. Strangely, this was the thing that got me up. Not the list of things I had to do before hustling the kids off to school, no those words which formed a rhythmic beat in my mind, the deepening pulse of a creative vein.

I wrote them down and saw that they were peculiar. They'd lost some of their rhythm once they solidified on the page. And I don't know exactly what they mean. Like a dream, the act of writing tends to boil things up from the subconscious. These words need to be worked over like some precious metal, the dross burned away and their meaning refined before they can be shared.

This little 5am epiphany got me to thinking about how much of my writing actually happens inside my head and interestingly how much of it still stays in there even after writing the first draft. It is a bit jumble up there in the old grey-matter. I have multiple worlds populated by multiple characters, many with very distinct voices, mannerisms, backstories. Isn't it any wonder that it takes so much time to sift through and refine the page-story to reflect the mind-story. Sometimes it feels like I'm chasing a ghost of a thing that doesn't really exist yet. And it sorta doesn't, but it does at the same time.  Does that make sense? I'm not sure that it does, but then again not everything about the creative process makes sense. *Mumbles* "it's all rather mysterious really."
Particularly those 5am wake-ups leading to the odd existential ramblings of a fictional but sentient universe.

So that was my morning.
How was yours?

Christchurch Earthquake, September 2010

It was 4:35am on the 4th of September 2010. A sudden bang woke us and then the shuddering started--its irregularity saturated with wrong, with violence. Our earth had reared up and begun to rage.
My husband yelled something-- I can't remember what--his words were torn away by the chaos. Everything was thrown up and down--there was so much sound. I ran down the hall, the shaking caused me to bounce from wall to wall, but desperation drove me on. I had to reach to my daughter's room. My thoughts were something along the lines of , She's alone! She can't be alone, not during this--not while our world is being torn apart.

Meanwhile my husband had picked up our 3 month old son from the crib in our room, moments before the television and tall boy crashed down beside the crib, right where he had been standing. Just moments... 

It was only a minute or so long but it seemed to go on forever. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the whole house rocked, groaned, lurched and shuddered, like a ship tortured by a stormy sea. There was a cacophony of sounds, smashing, thumping and straining timber--and the roar, I'll never forget that roar.

It felt like our home was going to fall apart around us. It didn't.
I thought briefly that we were going to die, but we didn't.



The lights dimmed to black several times, plunging us into darkness. I remember screaming and praying as I clutched my still-slumbering daughter tight, huddled down beneath the strong kauri doorway in the hall. My back pressed hard against the framing, hugging it as it moved. Eventually the house started to sway more softly, a rolling motion like a calming sea and the shaking eased. It was a soothing lullaby after the world's screams. I was still trembling.

My husband passed my son to me and went to get dressed. There were more shakes, smaller, as if the earth was twitching in pain. Our power had come back on so we turned on the lounge television--it had miraculously survived the shaking. On it there was nothing but trite, regular programming. Nothing for us. We needed to know... we were looking for answers. Had this truly happened? How bad was it? What would it mean? So we tried the portable radio and found a local station. For the next hour we listened to talk-back radio. We heard the voices of other terrified people just like us, occasionally broken by emergency broadcasts and it all became real.It hadn't all been just a bad dream. Afterwards we experienced a strange, giddy and hysterical lightness as blessed relief surged over fear.

 Our world changed after that night. The aftershocks kept that first terrifying 7.1 quake fresh in our minds, but worse was to come. Our city/ region experienced something terrible and there were no quick fixes. It would/will take years. We had more quakes, people died, homes were lost...people left, things broke...people broke. What can you do when you can no longer trust the ground beneath your feet?
I prayed.

Yet amid the strange reverberating chaos of that first quake-ridden morning there was a special moment. My 2 1/2 year old daughter was watching the sun rise. The warm orange glow bathed her golden curls, lit her wide smile and those excited, sparkling eyes.  A fragile hope and confidence broke through the shock. I knew then that we were going to be all right.
Thank God we were all right.

Join my fellow Guild members as they share their thoughts and memories of that night, September 4th 2010.
Links:
Judy L. Mohr
Angela Oliver
J.L. O’Rourke
Rata

For more photos, see my post Transition, which was inspired by Christchurch's Festival of Transitional Architecture, FESTA. http://www.amilibertyhartwriter.com/2014/11/transition.html



Photos by Shireen Helps, and Jessica Colvin.

My Grandfather's home (Banks Peninsula)

The Christchurch Cathedral

Re:Start Mall -allowing people to shop in the central city once again.

Some other interesting Christchurch quake links:
Urban Explorers- http://www.stuff.co.nz/the-press/news/63996401/Man-risks-death-to-capture-quake-memories
-http://urbexcentral.com/category/christchurch/ 
September 4th 2010, Associated Press raw footage- https://youtu.be/2VigOXKWoDw  
September GNS Scientists Fly over of fault trace https://youtu.be/Npqx3WmNkv4
CCTV Footage of Feb 22nd quake- https://youtu.be/duoS7hwJlrU
Drone footage of the Christchurch suburb, Avonside http://www.stuff.co.nz/the-press/news/christchurch-earthquake-2011/67471177/drone-footage-shows-quakeravaged-christchurch-suburb.html

Visions II: Moons of Saturn

I'm thrilled to announce the release of Visions II: Moons of Saturn. This is the second book of the Visions Series, this anthology features: Tom Tinney, W.A. Fix, Thaddeus Howze, Ami Hart, Bonnie Milani, Jeremy Lichtman, S.M. Kraftchak, Timothy Paul, Tom Olbert, Amos Parker, R. E. Jones, and Duane Brewster.

 NASA’s Cassini mission has captured stunning images of Saturn with its mesmerizing rings of ice and rock, its 53 officially named moons and in doing so captured the imaginations of science fiction writers around the world – ripe with the promises of colonization and mining opportunities the Saturn System presents endless visions for mankind’s future. These twelve authors have presented their visions, as rich and diverse as the reality of Saturn and its moons themselves.

My own offering to the anthology is a story called Refuge. Fira, one of the survivors of the Raq-Ni Melt spends his days exploring the ventilation system on the Titan Flotilla. He finds comfort and safety in those small spaces. One day he discovers something. This discovery puts in motion a series of events that could ultimately influence humanities destiny. 

 Refuge is mainly a character focused piece. I found myself enthralled as Fira's story unfolded beneath my fingertips. This story feels very true to myself and I simply adore my character Fira. I really hope you enjoy reading Refuge as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

Check it out here:
Link:Visions II: Moons of Saturn