Skip to main content

Tales From The Tenets And Other News




It’s all over Facebook and Twitter (on my accounts if not all) so it is time perhaps to speak of it here too.
Tales From The Tenets.
You will most likely be familiar with the concept of a tale. A tenet is essentially a principle, a guideline, you may know this also. These eponymous tenets are known to many Tae Kwon Do practitioners, being in common use as rules to live by. Courtesy Integrity Perseverance Self Control and Indomitable Spirit! We spin them out like a chant as we explain them to our new students/remind regular students why they are doing those apology press ups. But how to make our mantra stick? How to show these rules are to make you a good person, how to explain that good people are happy people without sounding like this: blahblah do-as-you’re-told blahblah be a sheep baa baaa? You could try telling some tales, of course.

Ronko The Rude Clown, for example. He has such selfish mean behaviour that he can’t even be bothered with personal hygiene and as a result of this he has a socially unfortunate accident. He is not popular so the other clowns laugh at him. This is not terribly polite of them but he understands why. He learns.
There’s the magpie, the dishonest thief. If he had told the truth his head might still be attached.
There’s Elenora, persistently exploring, persistently vexed. And thanks to her persistence she remains persistently alive. (No one is quite sure how the hammerhead shark came to be in the undergrowth.)
There is Timmy O’Tomkinbert the loveable robot whose self control panel was tragically compromised in a thinly veiled dig at shabby modern industrial practices. Sci-fi, sausage making and shoes gone wrong!
And then there is the Zombie Apocalypse: prep or die? Your choice… only remember how delicious you are to those grumbly-tummied undead…
These five educational stories were written for fireside sharing at our Junior TKD Kids Camp (the cub scouts may have regretted joining us) to nurture a little moral reasoning. The stories proved popular so I put them in a book. An ebook initially, as there’s currently no capital available for printing. My publishing enterprise Black Belt Books is a slow grower, which is fine as I have no particular plan, only curiosity and enthusiasm. And I’ve been invited back to camp and some other venues too: and there exists a list of ideas for the next five years worth of Tales From The Tenets. And other ideas! 

Other News
The Novel, the grown up novel of which I sometimes speak, is close to ready. Today I met my Chief  Dear Reader. There are a few alterations to make: nips and tucks only. This is not Black Belt Books catalogue material. Do I set up a second publishing enterprise? This is not a rhetorical question yet requires no immediate answer. It is more a way of wondering what I will do next.
Meanwhile blackberries get fat in unexpected heat: my fingertips are wrinkled from indigo juice. Dark demijohns in the kitchen sing bubbling September songs.



Comments

Geo. said…
To all rhetorical questions, I answer an interrogative "yes?" and await publication and purchase info. I deal in cash and want a physical book made of paper --with your inscription-- please. My compliments and admiration.
Jo said…
Yum, blackberries.
Lisa Southard said…
Ah, the interrogative "yes?" Inscripted print wins! :-)
And the blackberries are definitely Yum, Jo :-)
Suze said…
You're right, Lis. Elenora is favorite!
Lisa Southard said…
I knew it Suze! :-) Elenora is lovely (IMHO!)

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...

Back From The Future Blog Party

Another joint blog adventure- if you want to see who else said what the list of participants is here . The premise is this: 'You're up before dawn on a Saturday when the doorbell rings. You haven't brewed your coffee so you wonder if you imagined the sound. Plonking the half-filled carafe in the sink, you go to the front door and cautiously swing it open. No one there. As you cast your eyes to the ground, you see a parcel addressed to you ... from you. You scoop it up and haul it inside, sensing something legitimate despite the extreme oddness of the situation. Carefully, you pry it open. Inside is a shoebox -- sent from ten years in the future -- and it's filled with items you have sent yourself. What's in it?' Here's how I imagined it: Before dawn? Shadows outside, first forming. Sleep has gone, I don't know where. Coffee I can find. All the way from Machu Pichu, this fair-traded pack. Scissors are in the drawer, which ...

Hometime Foam Time

It was hot outside, cold indoors. When we were freed from the hall I opened my car thinking oven gloves might be required for driving. I was weary. I was lined up for a row of shifts- but the evenings are lighter now, and the beach was calling. I drove a wiggly route to Veryan (the road I chose was closed) and down to Carne Beach. Since I had checked the weather the wind had turned easterly, and the tide was in. There were waves smacking over a disappearing line of fine sand. Undeterred I wriggled my swimsuit on and went to play in the foam.  Neither air nor sea was particularly cold. Blue and cloud patterned sky, blue and turquoise patterned sea, flowers blooming and swooshed by the wind, and the warm brown crags of rock: to be here was to be directly connected to the source of all existence.  Home time was foam time, and vice versa. Afterwards I sat in my car, door open, eating a square of dark chocolate, watching the white flecks and trying to work out if the dark dot was a...