Ninja... I got something!

My last blog post was a cry for help about the writing topic 'Ninja'.
Firstly, thank you to those that responded.
Secondly, my creative juices did get flowing again and I have now submitted a piece to the KBR website team and fingers crossed it too will be selected for publication on their website in May.

What got the juices flowing was actually writing out a Ninja story based on a concept that my lovely sister-in-law presented to me. When I completed that story I ended up writing a new story which is the one I have sent off.
So in recognition of my sister-in-laws creative idea I have chosen to share the first story with you and as promised I am dedicating it to her daughter E (my niece) and her cats, Rosie and Cleo :) This is the Ninja Kitten.

The Ninja Kitten by Elizabeth Paterson
(This work is Copyright to Elizabeth Paterson 11th April, 2015)

Mumma looked at her three very different kittens one fine morning and said, “It’s time you thought about what you want to be when you grow up.” She said very seriously, “Take some time to think about it; it’s a big decision to make.”
The eldest kitten scrunched up his face so as to think very hard and said, “Mumma, I believe that a kitten of my smarts would be best suited to a life of some sort of scholar or a professor.” So the eldest kitten walked off to lay down next to a book and begin his studies.
The middle kitten said, “I’m sure I should be a musician of sorts; I can’t help but tap my paws when I hear a good beat.” So the middle kitten walked off and began batting his paws against pots and pans to hear the sound they make.
The youngest kitten was black of fur, but his Mumma could not find him when she turned to him next. Suddenly he leapt out from behind her and said in a whisper, “I know what I will be, Mumma.”
But before she could ask him to continue he had somehow vanished again. She started when the youngest kitten stealthily dropped down right in front of her nose without a sound and landed into a crouch beneath her.
Mumma watched him carefully to see if he was going to disappear again, but he stayed in his low crouched spot in front of her. “Now, what is it that you think you will be?”
The little black kitten slowly stood and whispered, “I’m going to be a Ninja Kitten!” Then he once more disappeared in a blur of black fur.
When they came together for dinner she watched her children closely to see how they were getting on with the choices they had made. The eldest kitten yawned and kept rubbing his eyes. The middle kitten kept licking his paws; they were very sore from all the banging on pots and pans. Then the little black kitten moved with such lightning quick speed that before she could even notice a fly that had begun to circle them, the youngest kitten snatched it from the air with one paw and didn’t even blink.
Not long after they’d eaten, their human came to see them. He’d been watching them all day too.
“I’ve decided to give you names, little kittens.”
He pointed at the eldest and said, “You will be called Lazy, for you are always lying about in my books doing nothing.”
He pointed at the middle kitten and said, “You will be called Noisy, for you make such a racket all day.”
Then he pointed to the youngest kitten and said, “Oh, where did the littlest one go? When you see him Lazy and Noisy, tell him that I’ve decided to call him Ninja, because he’s so stealthy and quiet that I never know where he is!”

Ninja...I've got nothing!

I was so excited when I received the email. My breath was caught for a moment, and my face immediately cracked into a grin of joyful disbelief. I couldn't help  but smile. And then, I couldn't help but dance. I jumped up and was bouncing on my feet whilst I impatiently waited for the phone to dial my hubby. I just had to tell someone!
But he didn't answer. So I rang my best friend, because I really needed to tell someone!
But she didn't answer either. I was giddy with excitement and bounced on my feet some more and then dialed my mother-in-law.
"Mum it's me! I just have to tell someone. I'm so excited! My story has been selected to be published online sometime in April!"
When I hung up from sharing my great news with my mother-in-law, I burst into the song "I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it". I danced the most goofy moves I could think off, and Ewan joined in and cried out "Again!" when I had stopped singing and dancing. I didn't need any more encouragement than that, for I was still bubbling with excited energy and was more than happy to see him giggling at my bum shaking and arm swinging.
It was only my second submission, so I was surprised and overjoyed to have been given this tiny bit of recognition. My enjoyment in writing re-fueled.

Less than a week later when I checked the website, there it was: Grandpa's Attic by Elizabeth Paterson. It was the first one for that month to be published.

I thought. I have to try again, with next months theme. Ninja.

Ninja.

Nin-ja.

...I've got nothing.

I'm itching to write again, but I do not know what to write for a children's story about Ninjas.

So now I am on the look out for a muse. Some inspiration. A Gru-like "light bulb" moment. Something that can spur on the flow of writing for another successful short story.

Someone help, please. Be my muse. Hit me with some inspiration. Be the catalyst for breaking my little writers block moment here!

Flexing Muscles

Someone wrote a few tips on a creative writing website I read recently. They talked about treating your writing like a muscle. USE IT DAILY, they said. Write a letter, an email, jot down a short poem, scribble a note to a friend, or if you really have the motivation, tackle a chapter of that great novel you've been dreaming about. Whatever the medium, flex your writing muscles and strengthen them with daily use.
Well, the idea of daily seems out of reach given the fact that I'm a stay at home Mum to two gorgeous children and other commitments, but perhaps I can ascribe to the 20 mins a day 3 times a week strategy they used to encourage for physical fitness.

So far I have been writing mainly children's stories. After reading so many books to my two year old son, who I will call Ewan for privacy, I started to become a little frustrated with what I was reading. I was even more disturbed about things that I have been seeing on the ABC 4 Kids television shows. I feel as though whoever produced 'Yo Gabba Gabba' must have been taking illicit drugs; the psychedelic themes make my head hurt. Then there is the absence of educational value in ridiculous shows such as 'In the Night Garden'; "Oh look, we're going to ride the Ninky Nonk", (next day) "Oh look, it's the Ninky Nonk", (next day) "Oh look, Iggle Piggle is on the Ninky Nonk". Can you hear the beat of my head thudding repeatedly on the table?
Alas, they fall very short of the expectations I had when I entered Motherhood, and perhaps that's more where the problem truly lies - my expectations.
Of course I don't remember what my interest in books was like when I was two, or if my mother let me watch much tv except for Play School (or if there was much else other than Play School for toddlers to watch in 1989). But as I grew a little older my mother would read to us books such as the Chronicles of Narnia, The Secret Garden, and Beatrix Potter's tales.
I've realized that these books are really beyond the interest of a two year old. Beatrix Potter will be the closest bridge in the gap between simplistic writing and pictures that aim to get a child to develop a love of books as they grow, as Beatrix Potter combines a more sophisticated vocabulary, more engaging themes, and has the benefit of drawing further attention with beautiful illustrations.
This is how I wanted my writing to be when I decided to write something for Ewan to read and enjoy someday. I loved the idea of having beautiful illustrations with words themselves that induced vivid imagery in the readers imagination; perhaps vivid enough that the pictures would be made a little redundant. To foster the imagination. To encourage the idea of constructing things in your own mind without being spoon fed what everything is supposedly meant to look like. After all, if our children can't learn to challenge what's given to them then we are essentially deviating towards a totalitarian society. Dramatic, perhaps, to suggest such a degradation of life as we know it, but it is something to ponder. Where exactly was it that changes in our society happened? There is not always a clear big event that changes in history have pivoted around but something more invisible; in the daily little things where we decide to make change.
Can we keep creativity alive? Can we nurture curiosity that leads to invention and innovation?
Just spare me another riveting adventure of the Ninky Nonk because I already know that Iggle Piggle will be the last one to get to bed.

Whoa what a workout... muscles flexed...must be time for chocolate :)