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Izabellaz Writing


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I think it was because I have a couple of domain names which brought me to Google’s Business section and a phone call offering me something I was not really quite ready for, that I went astray and out of my depth.

So, now back to blogging here while I sort my head, desk and planned activities into some level of productivity. This made slightly more difficult in trying to get used to a new keyboard – Microsoft Ergonomic – my left hand is happier than my right when trying to touch type. AND a while back I thought it would be a good idea to learn to stand while writing so first bought a stand-sit stool followed by the purchase of a stand-sit unit which sits on top of my desk.
Big Sigh! If I move the desk to standing height, I have to move the stool back to allow for my standing – inconvenient and it is heavy. So, I bought an office chair from Matt Black, just down the road from me. Looks great, but at its height the seat is a few inches (it feels) too low. Next item will be a proper office chair from Officeworks and then I will have NO EXCUSE not to get on with the list of projects  parked within my computer and within my overly busy head.

Today’s Big Question: Has any Australian media outlet shared a video segment wherein it is reported by the Lancet that it published 5 articles in the January edition detailing how much information the Chinese had shared with the outside world at the time?  Accordingly, the consensus is the information was out there, but the US and Europe were slow to respond, acceptance only when it hit them.


The experiment: If anyone wants to try out the sit stand desktop and stool AND is prepared to collect from my home (CBD Adelaide) you are more than welcome. If it works for you then any offer above $0 would be acceptable. If it does not work for you, pass it on to someone else for whom it may suit – until it finds a happy home.

Some time ago I treated myself to a sit stand stool having read of the many benefits. That was okay. but then one more step was the purchase of a unit which stands on top of an ordinary desk to covert the desktop into a sit stand desk arrangement where two level are easily available by squeeze and raise – rather than being lifted by gas.

Okay, BUT then I had to move the heavy stool whenever I wanted to stand.
Next treat was the purchase of a Microsoft ergonomic keyboard with mouse. Don’t know whether it was my hand lor the mouse, but it was so wonky I reverted to my old reliable mouse.
Bought an office chair from Matt Black to use instead of the Officeworks sit stand stool. Turned out to be a couple of cms short when at its fullest height.
WAS planning on replacing chair BUT as the keyboard’s design has my arms at a different angle therefore a bit cramped within the desktop unit space I have this morning decided not to throw any more good money at stuff that does not enhance my writing.
The desktop now serves as a most expensive footrest and the sit stand stool as a perch for stuff still to be sorted. My arms at the right level saving the purchase of another chair.
(For reasons known only to itself, am unable to upload photos of stool BUT then can be located in Facebook.) Big sigh. This is not how today was planned.
And, now sorting is the priority for this day. Another big sigh.

The Adelaide City Library is not yet open but forwarded the two books I had on hold to Hutt Street. Drizzling rain dampening the walk along South Terrace; about 4000 steps.

Found the library, phoned to gain access and while there selected enough books to keep me going (hopefully) for this coming week.

Danielle Clode: Life in Australia’s inland sea.

Camilla Lackberg: The Ice Child

Susie Steiner: Persons Unknown and Missing Presumed

Martin Amis: The Pregnant Widow

Stefan Ahnhem: Victim without a face

Rebecca Mackenzie: In a land of paper gods

Next time I will catch the bus.

Could not go to bed last night until finishing Alison Manthorpe’s The Fifth Bullet and am now looking forward to the release of her next book: Rid of a Pest – yet to be released


As for now, as soon as I came indoors, stripped out of damp clothes and now back in nightdress with no reason to change for a while!

This says more about time spent discovering that which is hidden within my computer than writing.
Started by updating Windows 10 to find in retaining the previous the space on my primary drive was greatly reduced.
A lt of palaver – learning curve – on getting rid of it by first moving to one of two external hard drives.
Trying to sort out onto a further portable usb that which I think I would want with me during the creative writing course starting in September. Nothing like being prepared!

 Not really inspired to write this just now – only doing so as an email told me 81 people had visited my website in the last month – I do feel sorry for them as I have not been keeping it up. Quite despondent. Try finding a picture or two to cheer me up?

This one of the simply best reads for ages.

Enough for now. Find another book. Big sigh.
Off to bed for an early night.
Likely to wake about three with an idea for the current work in progress, but loathe to get out of bed.
Goodnight. Whomsoever you are. 🙂
 Almost every writer, and certainly every writer advising other writers, recommend not editing as one goes along. How I wish I could do that! Try as I might, when I try I stall. I simply cannot go past that which I know needs some more work. F’instance, I am in the process of writing (editing as I go) a scene involving detailed processes. I need to prune back on the detail (which I have not yet written) while I sort in my head  how much detail to include  for authenticity. First world problem 🙂

OCT 2018


Once upon a time, on a beach not far away, a man went fishing. He had a simple rod and a carefully baited hook. His family needed food and he knew that, out in the water, was a school of fish.

Most of the fish were of one family led by Father Fish and Mother Fish. Father Fish saw the bait in the water. It was his job to protect the school from strange things. He took the bait and began thrashing around in pain.

Mother Fish looked on and became very unhappy. She wanted to help Father Fish. She wanted to keep the younger fish from seeing his  pain. Father Fish was pulled out of the water and became  a meal for a needy family.

Seasons go and another came. Mother Fish found another Father Fish who helped her raise another batch of fishlings. These babies grew up in the school with their half-fishlings.

Onto the beach came a young boy. He had a new rod but no-one to teach him how to bait a hook. He hoped to catch a fish. He hoped there was something he could do well for he was not very good at sport. He flung the line in the water. The metal shone silver flashes amid the bait. The new Father Fish saw the twinkling metal. It was his job now to protect the school from the unknown. Mother Fish was close by him. Most of the fishlings were almost old enough to take care of the younger ones. She saw the new Father Fish close his mouth around the bait and the shining hook. She saw him thrash about in the water. She watched him disappear as the boy reeled in the line. The boy was jubilant. At last there was something he could do well. Perhaps now he could catch a ball as easily as he had caught a fish. Even his school-work could now be better. He had shown himself how clever he could be. Filled with confidence and a fish in his hand he went home a changed person.

Seasons go, and another came. Onto the beach came a man with a fishing rod. He cast the line into the sea then sat back hoping that nothing would happen. He just wanted to look as if he were fishing. Every day he helped people in pain. He needed to relax and hoped no fish would be so stupid as to take an unbaited hook.

But he had reckoned without Mother Fish. Two great loves of her life had been taken from her; taken out of the sea into the Great Unknown. Although she was ready to lay another batch of eggs she had not found anyone she fancied as a Father Fish. Her elder children were now old enough to fend for the younger. She knew the shining metal was the key to another world; a world in which she would meet the first Father Fish and second Father Fish. With a sigh and a deep gulp of yearning she bit upon the hook.

The man saw the line running from the reel. He said a very rude word. What did he want with a fish? Perhaps if he just left it alone it would free itself. He let the fish take all the line it wanted and hoped it would snag itself on a rock. As long as the man did not have to look at it, for he knew it would be in pain. Every now and again he wound the line it just far enough to feel whether or not the fish was still on the line. It was. The day wore on and Mother Fish wondered why. First Father and Second Father Fishes had been taken into the Great Unknown quickly. She stayed caught between the sea and whatever it was which lay Beyond. The day turned into an agony for both the man and for Mother Fish.

The man took a knife and cut the line for his need for a quiet life was greater than his need for a length of fishing line. After all, who needs a silly, suicidal fish?

Mother Fish  swam round and round, hook  in  her mouth and trailing a length of nylon line. The line tangled around her tail. The hook made eating difficult. The fishlings watched her die slowly before their very eyes and they learned a lesson.

Few  men  bother come to the beach now. It is known as a poor spot for fishing. No-one seems to know why. In the water the fishlings grow and increase in number. Each generation tells the next the story of the Mother Fish who bit upon  the silver spangling key and of her dreams of joining the Father Fishes.

One day the fishermen will return.