Cats by C. H-S, 11 yo

Cats

             by C.H-S, aged 11

What I like most about Rotorua is not the history or the culture. I mean, that’s interesting – but not as good as Rotorua being the only place in the world where cats can hear and talk English.

Molly, Storm and Sparkles are some of the chosen cats. Molly and Storm are black. Sparkles is black too but with a white chest and paws.

Ashleigh, Jessica and I found out one day that cats can talk. We didn’t mean to.

It was a normal day. Ashleigh and Jessica were at my farm and for some reason they decided to bring their cats.

Ashleigh brought Molly, Storm’s sister, and Jessica brought the 7.5 Kilo Sparkles. Ashleigh and Jessica are always having pathetic fights over that fat tomcat. For example: “He’s mine,” Jessica screeched. “Mine,” hissed Ashleigh in her dangerously quite voice.

“No!”

“Is!”

That’s what they do!

Anyway, back to the story . . .

We went down to our little spot, a hideout that my pest of a little sister Nicole has no idea about. Molly and Storm bounded alongside each other while Sparkles trailed slowly behind.

“That cat is just sad, Jess.”

Two pairs of eyes glared at me. Ashleigh’s voice lowered, Jessica’s rose: “WHAT did you say?” they said in unison.

I gulped. “Uh . . . nothing.” I gulped again. Then I run.

My feet pound the ground as I escape my two best friends. I dived down, hopefully hidden by the long grass.

That’s when I heard it: a pretty voice that wasn’t mine; or Ashleigh’s; or Jessica’s.

“Sparkles the Great. You need to thin down.”

I heard a gasp beside me. I saw Ashleigh and Jessica staring.

It was Molly talking!

And it wasn’t my imagination.

Antisocial, by D. F.

Antisocial
              by D. F.

 

James hated soccer. He couldn’t stand to watch several usually attractive men stand around on a field – in other words, doing the equivalent of what he usually did on a Friday night; but attracting a considerably larger amount of female attention – more than he received on a Friday night, anyway.

“Oh, Gregory is so amazing,” he overheard one of them say. ‘Them’ being one of those people – the females, as they were known.

“He just does everything and is so put together – you just don’t get guys like that anymore.”

“Of course you do. The papers are filled with stories of criminal offenders,” he scoffed – internally, of course.

One of the other ‘them’ entered: not a female ‘them’ this time, but the more harmful type of ‘them’- the tall, athletic Adonis (well, as close as one could get to Adonis in high school, anyway).

“’Sup?” He said, flashing the whites of his teeth to the already impressed thems sitting a few rows in front of him.

How can they stand such inane chatter, James thought. Can’t they see through him; can’t they see that he’s not really happy – or, at least, that he shouldn’t be; that instead he should be moaning and wallowing at all the things he didn’t know and books he hadn’t read? Surely that’s the sort of thing girls should be concerned with.

“Saturday night is going to be so fantastic, I can’t wait,” cried platinum blonde Number 3.

“I know. Right, James, do you want to come?”

There they went again, making their silly little plans while people died in Syria and the Christchurch rebuild was lagging far behind schedule.

But wait a minute . . .

“Er . .?”

“Yeah,” replied Adonis. “You hardly ever come to these things. What’s the deal with you anyway? Why are you so antisocial? Come party with us!” This prompted the chorus of assembled platinums murmuring in agreement, followed by various comments expressing amazement that James had never attended.

“I, er . . .”

James wanted to say it was because he didn’t believe in their quasi-social gathering that excluded those less privileged in looks and wealth. He wanted to be Ghandi, standing firm and calmly eliciting his principles on why he had been boycotting those events.

Instead, he said, “I’ll see you there.”

Suddenly, soccer didn’t seem quite so bad any more.

 

Reviewing the April celebration of Book Month in Rotorua

March 2013 has gone for ever – but the impact of Rotorua’s WriteUp Here in 2013 ~ celebrating New Zealand Book Month, Rotorua-style will be cause for reflection over the coming months as those involved review the programme and consider next year’s.

For now though, let’s rejoice in what was an on-going celebration, involving hundreds of Rotorua residents of all ages, as writers or readers – or both.

Spectacular in its wide range of book-related events to suit all tastes and interests was Rotorua Library where staff saw to it that visitors couldn’t help but be aware that it was New Zealand Book Month. We’re lucky to have a library so supportive of its residents – and interestingly, many of the events through NZBM are on-going, like the Library Live programme.

The Daily Post did us proud throughout the month with continual references, information and news and a magnificent two-page spread on Tuesday April 2 when some of the QuickWrites were published.

Now it’s time to carry some of those 50+ contributions on our social media sites. Because typing the hand-written contributions takes time, these will be progressively loaded onto our sites as they become available.

Following the QuickWrite Writers Forum, Take Note in Rotorua’s Central Mall hosted a festival of children’s books with a focus on Rotorua author Natalie Newson’s three books, Morepork the Babysitter, Tarawera’s Pink Terrace Children and All Aboard for Antarctica. Her nonagenarian father Roy Tucker, a non-retiring writer poet and actor himself, read some of the stories while performing poets Nan Miller and Kay McGregor assisted and also read from books in stock. Children’s eyes were alight, even more so when store manager Heather distributed gifts to each child and the Mall’s Baker’s Delight Bakery passed round tastes of Hot Cross Buns.

The following week Books’n’Baths featured both the freshly refurbished spa therapy facilities at QE Health and Hospital on a Hotspot, the recently published history of Queen Elizabeth Hospital from 1942, when it was established as the Services Convalescent Hospital.

Author, historian Susan Butterworth joined the nearly-40 guests as did Alison Masters, retired archivist at QEH and author of Ghosts, an affectionate memoir. Copies of both books were available at the function during which there were few formalities and much time for informal chat.

Guests included Ynys Fraser, the nonagenarian daughter of Dr Stan Wallis, QE Hospital’s first medical superintendent and authors and local historians, staff members and many Rotorua people with considerable affection for QE Hospital. Susan and her historian husband Graham were guest speakers the following evening at an in-house training session for over 20 Rotorua Museum docents.

Tauranga tutor Jenny Argante wound up Rotorua’s Book Month events with a fully-subscribed, day-long workshop on memoir writing.