Posted in Daniel McTavish, fiction

The Real McTavish – Chapter 1 – Pull the Other One

Posted on by marlytheadoptee

Catherine

December 2014
“Alex called.”
I blink at Daniel who’s leaning against the back of the couch, grinning from ear-to-ear.  “Alex?”
“Yeah.  He says he will look at the script.” 
He’s not making any sense, until I realise who he’s talking about.  And then I continue staring at him.  He laughs low.
“Alex O’Loughlin is going to look at the role.” 
Putting my pen down, I look at him.  “Pull the other one.”
Daniel smiles, and says, “I booked a flight to Hawaii tomorrow evening.  You’re coming with me.” 
My brain just stops for a second, then I shake my head from side to side, trying to let that sink in.  Hawaii.  Tomorrow.  To see…I stop the thought right there, frowning at him.
“I can’t just go to Hawaii with you.”
Daniel lifts an eyebrow.  “No?  You’re not currently working.  You’re my writer.  And, you deserve a holiday.”
That last is truer than I let on.  After losing my job, I’m kind of at a loss.  The other stuff, not so true.  I’m not Daniel’s anything.  We’re just friends.  He wasmarried.  But, the strain of his past caught up with them both.  Anyway…
“Well, I’ll concede the last thing.”
He smirks at me.  “I knew you would.”  He tosses a brochure at me.  “We’ll have some time for sightseeing.  Oh, and Alex said he can get us a meet and greet with the cast of Five-0.”  This last he says with a cheeky grin and a wink, before turning to walk out of the room. 
I yell after him.  “You’re evil, Daniel!”
His face reappears for a second as he says, “You love me, Cath.”
I wave him away, returning to my journaling; his soft chuckle making my cheeks warm. 
                                                            * * *
Daniel McTavish.  What do I tell you about this man?  He’s loving, kind, compassionate.  Generous to a fault.  Sure, he has his moments.  Everyone does.  But, I like to see the good in everyone.  Maybe that’s a problem?  I don’t know.  Some people would like to remind me of the shocking things that he did in his past.  But, that’s the point.  It’s history.  He doesn’t do those things anymore. 
Which I tend to point out a lot.  Daniel just tells me not to bother.  The people who matter don’t care about his past and he thinks I shouldn’t worry over it.  But, I get defensive in spite of that. 
You shouldn’t judge a person who’s changed.  Yes.  He was an assassin.  Yes.  He killed people.  But, he gave that all away.  He helps save people now.  I mean, come on.  People can change. 
But, you know.  People will always go, ‘Cath, he killed innocent people.  How can you defend someone like him?  How do you know he won’t go and do it again?’  Seriously, it scares me the prejudices some people hold. 
I guess this is the reason he wants to make a film about his life.  To set the record straight. 
Speaking of which, I should be packing.  But, Daniel isn’t making it easy.  He’s in my walk-in-robe throwing clothes at me and trying to tell me why I should take them with me.
“Cath, this’ll be cool.  You won’t sweat in this.”  Like, thanks…but you’re the one who sweats a lot, Daniel. 
He looks around the door at me, eyebrow twitching.  “Shake a leg.”
I roll my eyes.  “Maybe I should just pack my whole ‘robe, Danny?  Save you the trouble.”
He laughs and disappears again. 
I get up and poke my head around the door.  Daniel is holding two dresses in his hands, frowning.  One is a long black, loose-fitting get up; the other a floral affair. 
“Not your taste, Danny?”
He looks back at me.  “I’ve never seen you wear these.”
I snort.  “Pack them then, and I’ll wear them when we meet Alex.”
He laughs, replacing them on the rack.  “Nah.  Not you.” 
I smile a little.  Should it worry me that he knows me so well?  I’m not the dress type.  Pair of jeans and a t-shirt is more my thing.  But, maybe I should take something a little formal. 
Daniel brushes passed me.  “Come on, let’s go get something to eat.”
Or maybe not.  

Posted in Daniel McTavish, my muses

McTavish

Posted on by marlytheadoptee

“My life was a series of routines and rituals.  I always had my coffee from a chipped beer glass with one sugar cube.  Always scalded the tip of my tongue.  Then I’d read the sports’ section of the Herald Sun from back to front.

I’d pass the paper on to old Mr Hunter who lived in the apartment opposite mine.  He knew what I was but he was always telling me how he’d been on covert ops in the Great War.  Never knew if he was telling the truth.  Guess he thought the same of me.

Then it was on to the gym on Providence Street and then the office.

The office wasn’t much.  Just an old weatherboard that sat facing backwards on a tiny block right in the heart of town.  And, that’s where I waited for whatever job came my way.

It’s hard to fathom how many jobs I carried out, but it all came to a head when I met Colleen.  Her father was my final job.

That ruined me.”

Posted in Daniel McTavish, fiction, the real McTavish

The Real McTavish – Master post

Posted on by marlytheadoptee
A new idea, featuring McTavish as he originally came to me.  An experiment that will feature Alex O’Louglin but will focus on McTavish.

The first time I met Daniel McTavish was at my church about a year ago.  His story is amazing.  Unbelievable.  But, a true story.  And a testament to the fact that God can change the hearts of people in the most profound way.  

He was a hit man for the Irish Mafia, killed a lot of people on the orders of his Boss.  

He approached me about writing his story, after he’d joined the worship team and we’d gotten to know each other a little better.  I accepted, how could I not?  But, now he wants his story turned into a film.  Not for any monetary gain, but to spread the story so it can help others.  A good idea, I guess…and he says he knows who he wants to be in the film.  

I’m not sure who he could get, but he says he has the connections.  So, I trust him, though there is only one person I could see portraying him…
~~~~~

Chapter 1 – Pull the Other One
Posted in 2014, Daniel McTavish, fiction, first person pov, my writing

The Uprising – revamped version 1 – Ch 1

Posted on by marlytheadoptee


Spell

01.09.2014
The only thing on my mind right now:  How to spell Taskerone?  It used to be Tasker One.  They changed it in the early noughties to reflect the pronunciation.  I’m not sure what difference it made.  Didn’t make any difference to me as I waited to be conferred with the title.  But the thought kept me sane. 
To say I was nervous, would be some gross understatement.  Youngest T-One to ever be conferred.  The media were all over that.  Gut-wrenching to say the least.  Flashing lights and voices everywhere trying to gain my attention.  All I wanted to do was bolt and meet my best mate for a beer.  Though Elliott would be elsewhere, checking his armoury. 
My assistant, Melissa, was giving me the eye, indicating that I was not paying enough attention. 
“Commander McTavish?”
Blinking, I fought to find the owner of the voice.  Horn rimmed glasses shoving a furry microphone in my face.  That galvanised me.  Stay outta my canoe. People don’t get in my personal space.  It’s kind of a thing that is quick to set me off. 
“Yes?” Less annoyed, Tav… “I apologise, can you ask that again?”
“Prisoner seventy-seven, Commander.  What are your plans for him?”
The question was inoffensive.  I knew that.  Everyone knew that.  Lachlan Douglas was a threat to the order.  The General himself decreed it so.  I agreed.  I don’t agree…Lachlan is a childhood friend…
Forcing a smile, I said, “I will need to review his case before making a final decision.”  I caught Melissa’s eye again, and this time her gaze was somewhat approving.  One point for the new Commander. 
There was some general questions about the new structure of Council and bringing in a new curfew. It was all quite tedious and I made my escape when it was polite to do so. 
Melissa joined me out in the corridor, walking with me. 
“That went better than I thought it would, Commander.”
I reminded myself that she was the General’s daughter, counted to ten then looked sideways at her.  “It’s Daniel.”
She remained tight-lipped as she said, “The General will speak with you about Prisoner seventy-seven’s sentencing this afternoon, Commander.”
“You know you look pretty when you smile, Melissa.” I know.  Not the smartest thing to say.  She just glared at me. 
“Your friend also wanted to see you once the conferring ceremony was over.”
I sighed, thanking her with a nod and left, making my way to find Elliott.  
He was where he always was.  My room.  Bottles of beer littering the bed.  Along with his assorted firearms.  He was in the middle of cleaning his prized possession.  A sawn-off shot gun.  Ancient piece of junk.  But it still worked.  I’d seen him fire it on the range. 
“El?”
He looked up.  His eyes were blood-shot.  That was some cause for concern. 
“You right?”
Elliott set the gun down, squinting at me.  “Are you?”
Lifting my eyebrows I think was enough of an answer to last him a while.  Though I was far from all right.  Who knew what the General would say about Lachlan.  And who the Hell knew why I even gave a flying rats…
I took one of the unopened beers before parking my ass opposite him.  He continued to stare at me through his slitted eyelids before letting out a groan, which kind of sounded like somebody’s name.  But I wasn’t too sure.
“Come again, mate?”
“Pips.  Gotta pick him up.”
His brother; Pips Preston.  Or Phillip as I called him, just to annoy him. No one else called him that.  I’m guessing his parents used to.  But, they’re not in the picture anymore.
That’s another thing.  I’m crazy about names.  Proper names.  Weird names.  Hobby of mine.  Collecting names.  Should probably put that to better use, though.  Like remembering the names of all my subordinates at The Creed.  Melissa is the only one that comes to mind…
“Didn’t know he was due for release?”
Pips was a career criminal.  Surprising they were letting him go, considering he attempted to blow up Council Hall.  Insane, right?  He said it was to make a point.  Not sure I understood what his point was.  He was passionate about it, whatever it was. 
Elliott looked at me, eyebrows lifting.  “No?  Would’ve thought they’d tell you that.”
I shook my head, though I might’ve been told…probably not paying attention. 
He shrugged at me before returning to his shotgun running an oiled cloth over the barrel.  I sat, watching him in silence, and sipping from my beer. 
We spent a lot of time like this.  It was comfortable.  Talking wasn’t something I was known for.  And, Elliott always took his cues from me.  It didn’t serve any purpose, we just felt content in each other’s’ company.   Been that way since high school.  Yeah, we’ve known each other that long. 
It was odd.  No one approved of Elliott Preston. Especially not now.  He was a bounty hunter.  Law unto his own.  My best friend.  Beer buddy.  Not to make light of our relationship, we’re there for each other.  And, I guess this was another of those times.
“Want me to come with?” I said, causing Elliott to shoot a surprised look my way.
“Why?”
I lifted my shoulders, tilting my beer and watching as the golden liquid swirled in the bottom.  “Need to go down there anyway.” 
He set the gun down and leaned forward, bracing his hands on his thighs.  He said nothing though, just furrowed his brow at me.  I let my lips twist into a smile.  He huffed, his fringe flipping up a little. 
“Knock yourself out, buddy.” 

Finishing off my beer, I murmured that I’d do exactly that, before leaning my head back against the wall and closing my eyes.
Posted in Christmas, Daniel McTavish, my muses, my writing, thoughts on Christmas

What Does Christmas Mean to Me? – McTavish’s thoughts

Posted on by marlytheadoptee

Daniel McTavish – A/N This is McTavish as he originally came to me, long before he became the narrator of The Uprising.  This McTavish is a former assassin, come youth pastor and in essence is the REAL Daniel McTavish.  My number one muse.

“Christmas? Hmmm, I’ve never really talked about what this season means to me.  I didn’t celebrate as a kid. Well, I didn’t celebrate the real thing. Didn’t believe in it. We did presents and the tree and a lot of eating.  My parents were the devout ones.

I became a Christian later in life.  Though I was raised by good Catholic parents.  They’d be mortified by what I became in life, though.  At least when I was younger.

Not sure they’d be particularly enamoured by my current profession either.  They’re traditionalists.  Go to mass every Saturday evening… I pastor youth at a large contemporary church.  Not their thing really.  But, I’m digressing aren’t I?

Christmas means to me?  Community.  Love.  Joy.  A lot of things that I lost over the years and had to regain.  And, redemption.  Or at least the promise of redemption.  I mean, the coming of Jesus as a man into our midst?  That’s a big thing.  And the fact that He came to save someone like me?

Mind blowing.

I don’t deserve that.  But, that’s another thing, right?  Christmas is a time for joy not for reliving the terrible things I’ve done…

So, yeah.  That’s Christmas to me.”

Posted in imagination, my thoughts, my writing, Writing

Why Do I Write?

Posted on by marlytheadoptee
I fell into writing almost by accident.  It’s not something I gave conscious thought to when I was younger.  Reading a lot probably started me on the creative path, though.  Having stories read to me by my parents were probably also a stimulation for my own growing imagination. I know that I started telling myself stories when I was very young.  A lot of it was, come to think on it, a reaction to life’s situations. 
The very earliest stories I remember making up in my mind were of a German Shepherd dog called Daisy.  She was not an ordinary dog by any stretch.  Daisy was large, with prick-ears.  Her coat was short, thick, tan and black in colour.  However, her most distinctive feature was her tail.  It was broad and flattish like that of an otter; the most striking feature though were the four spikes on the end of it.  Like a Stegosaurus’ tail.  Interesting, you say?
Well, I know she manifested in my mind because I wanted an imaginary friend who could protect me from school bullies.  At around the same time I was reading Jack London’s Call of the Wild and so the main character from the book, ‘Buck’, evolved into Daisy’s brother and companion.  Added to this was the fact that they were talking dogs.  Talking animals were a big thing with me then, and for many years, especially after reading Wind and the Willows, Animals of Farthing Wood, the Brian Jacques Redwall series and others like it. 
Of course, the tales of Daisy and Buck evolved to include, amongst others, a talking Siamese cat called Ming, two unicorns, Moonbeam and Sunbeam, and a talking Malamute.  I even had an ongoing dialogue in my head that included the Phantom of the Opera.  Don’t ask me how that came about… my stories didn’t always make sense. 
Later on, when I started high school, my stories changed to include my high school crush.  And is, I will admit, the catalyst for the still ongoing story that goes through my head today about the Rebels’ of Scotland.  I’ll tell you about them another day – they have a whole history surrounding them.
My writing was always a release for me, in a sense.  I just wanted to get the stories out onto page.  I used to handwrite everything, still have a lot of my notebooks filled with my writing.  But, now I do the majority of my writing on my laptop.  I guess that then made it easier for sharing?  Though initially I only had one audience.  Myself. 
I write first and foremost for myself.  It’s an extension of my stories in my head.  But, when I started writing fan-fiction I started to think that maybe people would like to read the creative ideas I came up with.  And, so now my audience is the wider internet community.  Initially just the Simple Plan fandom and now I want to reach more people.  Though my number one audience is still little old moi. 
Writing for me is a very fluid process.  Sometimes I have no idea what I’m writing until it falls out of my head onto the page.  Stream of conscious writing is something that’s great when I get a brand new idea.  Usually happens at two in the morning, though.  Other times, I have an idea for a story and plan out the characters and the ending before doing anything else.  
But, mostly my stories start with the characters.  They’re not always fully formed when they appear in my mind; but, I know a little about them.  I usually learn more about them as I write, and they always surprise me, as the characters in Shadows Creed did.  This does effect the length of time it takes me to write my stories. 
My longest Simple Plan fan fiction, Adeline’s Choice, took me four years to complete; and the aforementioned Shadows Creed, took over three years.  But, it’s a process I enjoy, most of the time, except when I get writer’s block and then I have to either stop or take a break.  Or, I start something brand new.  As long as I enjoy it, that’s the most important thing.
That’s the thing about writing; for me, I enjoy creating different worlds and exploring the characters of people and how they respond to different situations.  Or using the same character and writing them into different situations, as I’ve done with my Simple Plan stories.  Pierre has manifested in many different ways in my stories and that excites me.  Though I’m enjoying creating my own original characters as well. 
So, I guess the main reason I write is for entertainment and enjoyment; though after I’ve written a story I can often see a message coming out from what I’ve written.  And, though that was never the initial intention of my writing, it’s always insightful.  And I believe all my stories have some theme or other, I just don’t usually set out to write that way. 
Now, though, I do want to write stories that are meaningful.  I don’t want to write something that doesn’t impact people.  Because, really…I write stories because I want them to impact myself, so why not others as well?  I read to open my mind to a world of imagination.  Which kind of reminds me of this one story I started writing, which I may share with you at a later date. 

So, why do I write? To entertain and to spread some joy in the form of creative, imaginative expression.  (Even if the story is sad….I don’t always write happy endings…but that’s life, right?)

Posted in 2014, Daniel McTavish, fiction, first person pov, my writing, Writing

The Uprising – revamped version 1 – Prologue

Posted on by marlytheadoptee



Beginnings

2040

Today is the tenth anniversary of our debut record.  
Legacy was a labour of love.  A lot of blood, sweat and tears, literally, was poured into the album.  And, I’m proud of what it has brought into my life and the lives of others.  It’s been a journey; from its conception to where we are today. 
It’s not been easy.  Changing the mindset of a society is difficult.  And, to think on it, I didn’t initially set out to change things.  My ideas weren’t so grandiose back when I was younger.  I was fed up with the status quo.  But, all I wanted was to bring a sense of joy back into my home. 
And music. 
Music.  Music is life’s blood.  Cliché, maybe?  But, something I believe holds true. 
A lot of people didn’t think that forty years ago…

It’s a strain, trying to get people to see where we went wrong with the laws and mores.  I’m seeing a shrink, that’s how bad it can get some days.  
The good doctor said I should write everything down.  A bit cliché, if you ask me.  I’ve read memoirs before.  Always so, dry, factual.  Not worth for anything but some dusty museum.  Though even those places are becoming extinct. 
I’m not much of a writer.  Sure, I’ve written reports.  Signed off on more than I care to remember.  I’m more an actions type of man.  Rather be doing than writing.
No, that kid, Robbie Douglas.  He’d have been the better choice.  Always scribbling away in a notebook whenever he got the chance.  I may still have them.  His notebooks.  Lachlan gave them to me for safekeeping.  That whole family…are almost my own.
But, I’m getting ahead of myself.  A story isn’t any good from the end.  Knowing only the ending doesn’t explain anything.  I learned that just by living in Valoren City. 
The walled city.  Valoren city of my father and my father’s father before that.  Not sure how many generations of McTavish’s served in this city.  Since the War of Words most definitely.  That long ago event that no one really remembers but caused a lot of unnecessary heartache in my day. 
I’ll be the last, though. 
The Creed’s being dismantled.  Gordon said that a regular police force is what the city needs.  One that actually holds justice of high import and not just the enforcing of rules.  I’m content with that idea.  Means I can relax.  Just keep an eye on the kids.
Hah.  Danny McTavish.  Babysitter.  Well, Granddaddy.  My daughter just had twins.  Boys.  Robert and Phil.  She named them in remembrance of the two toughest people we’ve ever known.  This is as much their story as it is mine.
I guess, I should really start from the beginning then.  Since I espoused that endings didn’t explain anything.  Not without beginnings. 
Everyone has a beginning to their story.  And, I don’t mean their birth.  Though that’s an important date. 
My beginning was an auspicious day.  Or it should’ve been. 

Two things happened to change that, and you could say that society has improved a lot since then.
Posted in Christmas, fiction, Writing

Christmas in Valoren City – Gordon’s Christmas

Posted on by marlytheadoptee
Let the world be still
2002
The Wilderness, Guardian’s Grove
The first candle of the season was burning with a strong flame in the window.  Gordon sat by its light, whittling away at a long wooden dowel, brow furrowed. 
“What’s that, lad?” The old Guardian, Jacob, was stoking the fire, watching him at his work.  Gordon looked over, smiling before blowing the shavings away. 
“Flute.” Holding it up to the level of his eyes, he squinted along its length.  “Gotta figure out how to hollow it out.” Gordon set it down, looking over at the old man.  “I saw pictures in the Book you gave me last Christmas, Coby.”
Jacob chuckled and said, “The Guardian before me passed it on.”
“And we are all grateful,” Gordon said, as he checked the candle. 
The sound of a mournful howl gave him pause. “Is that?”
Jacob went to the door, opening it a crack.  “The pack is on the move.” A frown passed over his features.  “There is something…” He looked back at Gordon and said, “Keep the fire burning.” 
Gordon shifted to sit by the fire as the old man slipped out the door. 
Dingos roamed the Wilderness in these days.  Though they never used to gather in packs; they were traditionally solitary beasts. However, as Gordon grew up he began to notice an increasing number of the wild dogs gathering where resources were high.  The flashes of yellowed coats were unmistakeable when he went out on forays with Jacob. 
Christmas time was when they started patrolling through the woods near the cabin, though, otherwise their usual haunts were the outer fringe. 
The fire crackled, Gordon staring into the flames as his mind wandered.  Leaping flames reminding him of earlier Christmases.  Such joy he never knew came to him at this time.  Jacob always took care to make each season as memorable as an old man could on their meagre means.  There were never any gifts, but Gordon had no need for such fleeting objects in time.  No, Jacob would take him out, both of them swaddled in furs, and they would sit on the hill where they could see the stars.  And he would tell such beautiful tales of the old times.
Gordon’s favourite tale was one of such mystery and wonder he sometimes thought it could be the truest story ever told.  An ancient tale of a saviour God who came down to dwell with the people and, through an amazing sacrifice, brought peace and goodwill to all.  In fact, the old man said it was the real reason they celebrated Christmas each year.  Gordon liked to believe that it was true.  The thought of everlasting peace was a balm for the life that he’d grown up knowing. 
Sure, he was sheltered from the life his parents faced in the City.  But, Jacob told stories of that place too.  Valoren City, the great walled city that kept The Wilderness at bay.  Gordon didn’t know what there was to fear having lived in the Wild all his life, but the old man said the City governance embellished things and put fear in the hearts of its citizens. 
And, they banned music.
Gordon shook his head at the thought just as the door set to creaking.  He cast his gaze in that direction as Jacob reappeared. 
“Lad, get the tub…need warm water.”
“What is it?” he started to ask, pausing when a soft whimpering came from a bundle in the old man’s arms. 
“Is that?”
Jacob, nodding, said, “Injured and abandoned.  Now, the water.”
Gordon got to his feet, gathering what was needed.  As he did, he watched the old man open the bundle to reveal a ball of dirt covered yellowish-white fluff.  The whimpering was emanating from within.  A Dingo pup. 
Pursing his lips he filled the tub with water from the pot over the fire then brought it over to set on the table.  He grabbed a towel on the way, handing it to the Guardian.  The he sat opposite, resting his hands on the edge of the table and waited. 
It took a while, with the pup crying the whole time, but Jacob managed to clean away the dirt and grime and then to tend to the wounds on its trembling body.  The whole time the small creature kept its snout tucked into itself so Gordon couldn’t get a good look at it. 
Jacob scooped the pup up in his arms, carrying it over to his cot where he set it down in the pile of blankets.  Gordon tilted his head to the side.
“He can sleep with me tonight.  Body warmth is what he needs.”
Gordon, smiling, said, “So, it’s a he?”
Jacob nodded as he made sure the pup was comfortable before joining him at the table again. 
“And, now, a spot of tea, lad.”
****
Later that night, Gordon woke to something snuffling in his ear.  He started then smiled as he felt something cold and wet nuzzling at his arm.  Blinking, he turned his head to the left seeing the glow of predator eyes in the low candle light.  Blinking again he fought back a laugh as he realised the pup was balancing against his bed, ears pricked up. 
He held still, allowing the inquisitive young dog to sniff at his face.  The delicate nostrils flared, as its ears set to twitching, listening to his breaths. 
Gordon took the chance to examine the pup, not ever having the chance to be close to one before.  The creamy fuzz of puppyhood made it look larger than it actually was though it was beginning to lose the softness around its face.  Large intelligent eyes watched him as he watched the pup. 
Smiling, and murmuring low so as not to spook the pup, he said, “Feeling better, pup?”
The pup stuck its nose right in his ear then he felt the wet curl of its tongue on his cheek.  Then it stuck its head down and tried to snuggle into his arms.  Gordon couldn’t prevent the laughter bubbling up in his throat, smiling as the pup tried to press close into his body. 
“Want cuddles, pup?” he said in a whisper.  “Guess we can do that.”  With care, he settled an arm around the pup’s body, smiling as it snuffled then went quiet, nostrils twitching still as it slept.  He drifted off soon after the warm body of the dingo pup like a hot water bottle chasing away the cold of the night. 
****
Gordon woke with a yelp then laughed outright when he realised why.  Needle sharp teeth nipped at his arm before the pup jumped down off the bed, trotting across the floor to sit next to the table, nose pointing upward in an expectant gesture.
Jacob, already up and stoking the fire, chuckled low.  “Tough little lad.”
Gordon rubbed at the back of his neck as he got up.  “Just like you, Coby.”
The Old Guardian, smiling, said, “Wasn’t always so tough.”
“Yeah…being Guardian changes you, right?” 
Jacob nodded as he brought a bowl over, setting it down in front of the dingo pup.  Gordon smiled more as the pup stuck its snout into the bowl, wiggling its whole body as it almost inhaled the meat in the bottom of it. 
“Well, nothing wrong with the pup,” he said. 
“Except its colouring,” Jacob murmured.  Gordon blinked, looking up at him.  “It’s unusual to see creamies.”  The old man sighed.  “They don’t do well in the Wild.”
Gordon said, frowning as he spoke, “So, it’s going to stay with us?”
Jacob looked at him, a serious light in his eyes.  “It’ll pay to have a companion.  I won’t always be here.” 
Gordon ducked his head down, continuing to watch the pup.  It walked circles around the bowl, licking it clean before flopping on its belly and looking up at him, tongue lolling out of the side of its mouth.  He smiled then looked over at Jacob.
“I’m going to finish my flute.”
Jacob, nodding, stood to take his coat down from the hook on the wall.  “I’ll catch breakfast.”
****
Gordon sat outside, whittling away at his flute, as the pup was fossicking around the bushes that lined the path.  Sticking its quivering pink nose into the brush, pulling out with a sneeze, causing a smile to flicker at the corner of his lips.  Laughter felt strange, but it was definitely welcome. 
He glanced further up the path where Jacob had gone.  One day he would be the one to do the hunting and the watching.  When the old man’s time came.  Gordon, sighing, set his knife down and sighted along the flute again.  Dusting his fingers along it he allowed a small smile again as he deemed the instrument ready to test out.
“Hey, pup.  Listen to this.”
The dingo pricked up its ears as he set his lips to the flute and began to blow across the hole.  Tilting its head to the side and giving a low huff the pup didn’t seem too impressed before sitting back on its haunches, lifting its head and howling for the first time.  Gordon couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.  He set the flute down, cupping his hands around his mouth to imitate the young dingo. 
Then he stopped as Jacob appeared at the top of the track, a brace of pheasants slung over his shoulder.  The pup’s nose set to twitching as it too took note of the wild birds. 
“Breakfast,” Jacob said, with a grin.  Gordon jumped up, heading inside to get the fire ready, the pup trotting in behind him.
****
Sucking on his fingers Gordon cleaned the juices of the pheasant breast from them, before looking up at the old man.  Jacob met his gaze, lifting an eyebrow. 
“Do they celebrate Christmas in the City?” A question that was forever niggling at his mind.
Jacob nodded.  “Yes.  But, it’s a solemn affair.  And no music, of course.”
Gordon shook his head, gaze drifting to the pup who was gnawing at the whole baby pheasant that Jacob had presented to him.  “How can they live like that?”
“It’s normal, for them.”
“My parents…” Gordon started, but then deciding not to finish the thought.  “That’s just so sad.” 
Jacob’s smile was weary as he said, “They know no other way.”
Gordon sighed, then let the sadness filter away as the pup came wriggling up to him, licking at his fingers.  “Well, pup…we know what it’s really about, don’t we?” 
The dingo gave a small whine then sat back on its haunches and lifted its voice in a howl. 
Jacob smiled and said, “I believe he agrees with you, lad.”

Gordon, chuckling, picked up his flute and began to play a merry tune. 
Posted in 2014, Simple Plan

Ten Years On|My story of being a Simple Plan Fan

Posted on by marlytheadoptee


1st November 2004 – 1st November 2014

I’ve been a Simple Plan fan for ten years. It’s a surreal feeling. Nothing could have prepared me for the love I would come to feel for this band.

When I was younger I used to fall in love with songs. I still listen to *NSYNC’s Bye Bye Bye an embarrassing number of times. And, I’d sing those songs and play them for ages, or watch the videos on Video Hits, Rage, Channel [V], but I wasn’t so much into bands. I was very much into pop music at that time. *NSYNC, Backstreet Boys, Human Nature, Spice Girls, etc. And anything that my parents played; Kenny G, Bob Dylan, Aretha Franklin, John Farnham, etc.

And then this ‘small’ band from Montreal began to wind its way into my heart.

The first time I experienced them was on one of those music shows in the guise of their music video for Perfect. One day that August of 2004, Dad was flicking through the channels when I noticed the band playing on a roof and wondered what they were doing? The song itself caught my attention. And true to trends at the time, I fell in love with the song, bought the single and played it to death in my car. However, I gave very little thought to the band itself. Relegating it to the back of my mind and enjoying the music.

Fast forward to November 1st, exactly ten years ago, and I was at the shops with my friends. We went to Sanity [when it used to have all the music…] and there on the charting singles wall was the Welcome to My Life single. [Yes, kids, we were actually able to buy singles in cases.] I recognised the band name, bought the single then proceeded to play it non-stop for, I don’t know how long. At least until I bought Still Not Getting Any on the 21st. [I didn’t remember that; had to check the diary I was keeping at the time. Have to say my entries back then bordered on teeny and embarrassing. I mean…I was 19 then…]

And then I proceeded to play SNGA to death in my car.

From there, it all went downhill…not really. My love for the band just went crazy. I joined SimplePlanOnline.com and started to write fan fiction about the band [which is still ongoing – I’ve got over 50 stories, not all SP but the majority are]. And, of course, fell in love with Pierre Bouvier.

Back in those days TV Hits and Smash Hits magazines existed, and I bought them for the Simple Plan posters. [And Good Charlotte too…because ironically I heard them before I ever heard Simple Plan.] Should’ve seen my bedroom. Posters all over the walls. And pictures printed off the net.

I bought their first album, No Pads, No Helmets, Just Balls and their DVD, A Big Package For You.

There was a point when I became so obsessed with them that I was up at all hours of the night, writing, and watching stuff on the net, and that made my parents mad, because you know ‘you’re wasting your time and should be concentrating on your studies’.

Yeah, thanks SP you got me in trouble a lot…

But, I wouldn’t do it any differently, now. In fact…I’m still doing it. But, I live out of home now, so it doesn’t matter anymore.

In the intervening years, I’ve seen them three times. The first time was in Brisbane, 2nd October, 2005. I went with a friend, we flew down from Townsville where I was living at the time. And, that was a great experience. The first paid concert I’d gone to that I actually remembered. My parents bought me tickets for my birthday. That first time seeing them, was great. They even played Perfect World, which fast became my all-time favourite Simple Plan song. Even today it’s still my favourite. In fact, despite all the music I’ve listened to since, it’s still my all-time favourite song, from any artist.

And then, a long seven year wait until the next drink. Simple Plan were meant to make an appearance in Perth in 2008 for their self-titled album tour cycle. But, due to issues with the venue that did not happen. In that time I lapsed as a fan; I was a little angry, and got drawn to heavier music [i.e. Avenged Sevenfold, though that’s an entirely other story…]. They were never far away from my mind, though.

Speaking of their self-titled album, it was the first album of theirs that I was part of the process of waiting on bated breath for. I remember their internet promos, the vlogs, the web chat before the release of When I’m Gone. I think I played the preview of that song over 500 times… I remember falling in love with Your Love is a Lie [my favourite off Simple Plan] when they played it on the YouTube New Year’s 2007/08 concert.

Then the album was released and though it’s not my favourite of theirs, it had a different sound to SNGA, it’s still an album I can listen all the way through without skipping a track. And it marked a part of my music loving life as the band has done a lot over the past ten years.

And, still the wait to see them live again. In-between times, I moved to Perth, saw Coldplay twice [2006 and 2009] and other artists as well [John Farnham, The Eagles, Ronan Keating, Tina Arena]. But, I was always hanging out to see my favourite band again.

Then Get Your Heart On! was released.

They toured Australia for promo in 2011, doing the East Coast. Which bummed me out, but when they announced that they were doing a full ‘national’ tour in 2012 [that didn’t include Perth, but did include Townsville…go figure] I decided I wasn’t going to miss out. So, for the second time in my life I hopped on a plane to see a band live. This time with a soundcheck party place under my belt…because I finally, finally got the chance to meet them.

That was the best concert, ever. And I didn’t think they could beat it.

[Watch it on YouTube if you want, Simple Plan live in Australia (it’s the Melbourne concert). It’s all there, in its glory. A free concert for the fans to watch. It was meant to be a DVD but the band weren’t happy releasing it for profit. So, in December 2013 they uploaded it on their channel for free.]

But, then, in 2013, they came to Australia for the ten year revival of Warped Tour in our beautiful country. As is usually the case, Warped Tour didn’t come to Perth. However, Simple Plan did. To make up for not coming in 2008. And, honestly, what a way to make up for it!

Just before they touched down in our lovely land down under, they released an EP [their first ever], Get Your Heart On! – The Second Coming. Can I tell you, this EP has to be the best thing they’ve released [since SNGA]. And they performed one of the songs from the EP at the show in Perth. The highlight of that concert for me, though, was getting to meet them again after the show [thanks to an acquaintance I made through the band].

The time I spent with them proved to me once and for all how much us fans mean to them, and how down-to-earth they are. Being in a band has not made fame go to their heads. They’re five young men who do what they love as a job and haven’t lost sight of where they came from.

I think this is what has given them the longevity they’ve had, so far. I have made new friends thanks to them, and met a few of them [several are even footy fans like me, but that’s another story too.]

And now [2014], as they currently write for their fifth studio album, I am excited to continue being their fan, for as long as they are around.

Postscript

I have all their albums, including all official live albums. I have most of their singles. I have the book they released in 2012.