Category Archives: Bullies Suck

Thoughts on A Work in Progress Inspired by True Events in the Author’s Life

I’ve always known that I would write about my experience with full-grown neighbourhood bullies. I just wasn’t sure how best to tell the story, whether as a monologue, a play or a book. I thought it had to be a first-person account, and I struggled to get to a place where I could begin to write about a very painful period in my life. I had many false starts as I tried to go over it all in my head. I considered how to write about people I know, and I worried a lot about leaving out the things I may have forgotten. Names, dates,  newspaper headlines and the necessity of getting it right all hounded me.

Then I remembered that I’m not a journalist.

I’m a novelist: I pull the truth out of everyday details and I weave it into fiction that illuminates some aspect of the human experience. (Or, so I like to think.)

What point would rehashing every little detail and putting it into chronological order serve other than to bring my pain to the world-wide stage of the internet? Really, that shit’s personal and it’s not going to help anyone. And, quite frankly, I don’t want to relive it in TechniColor.

The new work is full-on fiction inspired by what I gained from a bad situation. I’m finished talking about it as a victim and ready to give it some artistic thought. I’ve moved on with my life and have no interest in going backwards, but it’s also important to learn from the past. What did I take away from the experience and how do I turn that into art?

(First step: find a new title.)

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A neighbourhood takes all kinds

She didn’t quite catch all that he said
He spoke quickly and waved his arms
But she had a bad feeling as she did her best
To converse with grace and charm.

The sun came up and she roused her babes
To stroll around the tree
On every branch were smart little homes
All neighbours in the community.

Birds and raccoons and squirrels and bugs
All living side by side
They chatted and played and helped when they could
A neighbourhood takes all kinds.

The raccoon and his brood strutted around
Telling the rest what to do
They used nasty words and tried to start fights
They loved a hullabaloo.

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The New Nest

The mama bird soothed her babes to sleep

With worms and snuggles and hugs

It didn’t take long for the old ‘coon to call

With winks and smirks and shrugs.

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Filed under Bullies Suck, Self-publishing, Writing

The old racoon…

That old racoon, he had a family

That he had to house and feed.

They’d been there so long that they had forgotten

That they didn’t own the tree.

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There was a field…

There was a field before the tracks came

Where the mama bird fed her babes.

When the trains rolled in

She moved her nest

To a tree not so far away.

In that tree there lived a coon

Who was

Used to

Having his way.

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Filed under Bullies Suck, Writing