Shouts From Down Under

Au naturel. Uncooked. Raw. Natural state. Naked. Nude.

Au Naturel

adjective
1.
in the natural state.
2.
naked; nude.
3.
cooked plainly.
4.
raw; uncooked.

http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/au%20naturel?&o=100074&s=t

Invalid Photo #1038415

images- http://media.photobucket.com/

https://www.facebook.com/JenniferHawkinsOFFICIAL

http://celebrities.ninemsn.com.au/blog.aspx?blogentryid=1239250&showcomments=tru...

So, what has Australia's own Miss Universe, Jennifer Hawkins, got to do with writing? What's with the naked title of this blog entry?

Because she has been in the news quoted as saying she has no time to photoshop photos of herself. What you see is what you get, pretty much.

This lovely lady first sparked my interest in an extra special way, when I once mentioned her name, and how gorgeous she is, to my wife. This caused a few comments, among my wife's female acquaintances also, of a cynical and braying tone of scoffing. Something like this;

"You men are all the same. You all have a one track mind- dirt track"

"She's not even that good looking". Etc. On it goes.

I realised this subject, or the subject of my comments, sparked a reaction in my wife, and the other wives present (not mine). Therefore, this equates to a "bit extra" you could say, of value to be had from Ms Hawkins amazingly attractive existence. (Excuse me Jake, but I know you'd understand this sentiment.)

From such a humble background, enjoying the industrial city of Newcastle and those golden expansive beaches there, this is a remarkably consistent source of domestic fun. I admit- it has been some time since I made any comment about her in the presence of my wife, being the kindly compassionate and basically decent bloke that I usually am. (Except when killing off characters, or writing argument scenes)

Then there was the time when we contract cleaned for a major supermarket chain. Every morning, about 5am, I'd be out there on the trading floor, walking up and down every aisle, around the checkouts, and down the back straight past the meat case, auto scrubbing the vinyl before using the LPG powered burnisher.
This really happened, trust me. If I was the swearing type, I'd swear to you this is true.

This was about the time that Jennifer was advertising for Berlei, or some other product. Whatever it was, the supermarket staff had erected (cough) a lifesize advertising poster / cardboard display thingamybob, of Ms Hawkins, in all her semi naked stunning beauty, sporting a lovely, if not practical model of bra.

Well, in my boring routine, it took special effort to concentrate on the cleaning job each time I turned that corner of the scrubbing circuit. I tried. I really truly tried. But as all blokes will attest (and maybe some women), something about a life sized Ms Hawkins caught my eye. Maybe it was the cardboard quality. Maybe it was just a trick of the light. Maybe I wasn't fully awake that morning.

But she winked. She did. I know you don't believe me. Well, that's ok. I almost fell over myself. It's not every day that someone young and...well...nice winks at me.

And of course, my wife, who at the time was cleaning the other half the store, dismissed the incident as a bit of the usual silly sense of my humour.

Every morning, from then on, I'd stare at her, my eyes watering and stinging in the contest, straight at the face of Ms Hawkins 2 dimensional representation, who I was sure had briefly morphed in a "Xanadu" style miracle, into a real life Jennifer, and it was all because of me. You see, these things don't happen, unless you really believe!

Sadly, this commercial cleaning affair couldn't last. One terrible day, I turned that fateful corner, only to discover a feature display of toddler pull-ups had replaced the "statue" of Ms Hawkins. She was gone.
I rushed to the receiving / dispatch dock, where the storeman was just finishing stuffing my winking, early morning companion, into the jaws of the cardboard box compactor. No amounts of arm waving could bring her back. I'd lost her forever. An unnecessary part of my life had been removed, without mercy.

My grief was complete.

***************

There must be an equation to cover naked writing. No, not sitting in your favourite writing haunt with zero warmth factor and maximum skin exposed.

I mean writing in such a way that there is no fat. There is nothing unnecessary stuck on your paragraphs or sentences like gaffa tape, or any bits of "debri" of the waffling on type, blue tacked onto your narrative.

You write what you mean. People read what you mean. Just enough. No more. No less. They get it immediately. You couldn't describe it, you could not expand on it, you could not improve it any more by writing anything else. No added fribby bits.

A fribby bit is a term I heard from a trainer (they were called teachers 30 years ago) who taught me Experting and the first part of the Wool Classing course. If you don't know what these mean, then give Mr Google a whirl. Or this.

http://www.shearingworld.com/award_federal.htm

Fribby bits are those dags or bits of dried up, stuck on, manure on the outer perimeter of a sheep's fleece, after it has been removed from a sheep (shorn off by a shearer) and picked up skillfully by the shed roustabout, thrown correctly on the wool skirting table, and the edges removed by "skirters".
Fribby bits are not good, if a core sample is taken at the wool stores, near where the wool auction takes place.

This contamination in a wool sample could reduce the value and grading of the wool, and cost the farmer money. Fribby bits are undesirable in wool.

And fribby bits are not a good thing in writing, even if I do say so myself, and I do say it, right here and now, to you, today, at this time, see what I mean hey?

That sentence is an example of a lot of rot being written that shouldn't be there. A major string of fribby bits all stewed together.

Chop out those useless bits of waste product, and your writing will improve its effectiveness.

Less is more.

Sparky