An Accessed Life
by
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Prologue: A Day in the Life; ‘I read the news today, oh boy. . .’ I’m the left-school teenage girl you see in any supermarket outlet who gets trained to do shit-kicker work for the most basic pay, hoping ‘things improve’ as we age. Chances are, we usually have three options: we eventually come to our senses by getting the fuck out of these jobs to get work more suited to our talents; we keep these jobs until we stuff up, get fired, take drugs, get pregnant, and then live on child support with our not-too-clean-living biker boyfriend until we overdose; or we might luckily achieve middle-manager status—going from checkout-chick to checkout-chook—once we turn thirty. Thankfully, I chose option one, but with these major differences. I love my new job. There is plenty of room for improvement, especially with pay, and it allows me to tell this story. Moreover, just because I am a recently turned 19-year-old girl who works at a florist gift shop called ‘Beachside Eufloria’ in North Beach, it doesn’t mean that my story isn’t worth reading. Oh, I assure you, dear reader, that this is an excellent story, and it will most likely get me into a lot of trouble, not that this is anything new to me. Before I tell this story, I must point out that it isn’t about me. And as I’m telling, it’s about a particular person, then I must explain a few more things about me, of how I am featured in this story and why it’s so important that I’m not the main character; I’m just a not-so-innocent participant. Trust me when I say that this won’t take long. My name is Ginny ‘Gumby’ Merciner, and I’m a Kiwi girl who originally came from New Zealand’s North Island. Suffice it to say, I’ve heard all the nasty jokes about Kiwis, including those that involve doing weird things with sheep or other farm animals, all of which I hate with a passion. The joke I hate most is the one that tells how a Kiwi behaves in a shoe shop; they are the one caught fucking a fleece-lined gumboot. Rest assured that this isn’t how I got my nickname ‘Gumby’; it actually came from watching too many Monty Python movies and television shows. My high school friends also appreciated that I knew this great entertainment off by heart, especially the ‘Gumby Flower Arranging’ episode, complete with silly walks and voices. Naturally, the nickname stuck, which I like, and how’s that for well-placed irony with my current job that I love so much. Well, that’s what Mr. Dave Mulling told me—the person whom this story is about. But before I start talking about Mr. Dave Mulling, a man who made my life so much better by just being honest, there are just a few more things I must explain about myself. I’m sorry to sound so up myself in a story that isn’t about me, but I do this for very good reasons. Personally, I never thought I would even get this far, given my literacy problem because of suffering from a particular kind of dyslexia . . . and again, how’s that for irony? As an ex–Careniup High student, I deemed myself an artsy-fartsy misfit. Other than being most at home in the Access Program (special education for underachiever students who must get into the workforce as soon as possible), my art and drama skills served me well in my last two years of school, but both subjects didn’t get me into TAFE (Technical and Further Education) or university, even with TEE (Tertiary Entrance Exam) approval. My home life as the eldest child of a single mum who struggled with a minimum-wage job to raise her three kids, while my younger brother Sam and sister Katy attended Careniup Primary, unfortunately speaks loudly of me being such an artsy-fartsy misfit. Now, I will only go so far to blame my father for being such a bastard for mistreating his family with drunken abuse that we had to live in the low-rent suburb of the Carine Trailer Park in Perth, Western Australia. I will also only partially blame my dyslexia for making me a righteous bitch at school; I don’t deny getting into trouble for being forthright to teachers or other students who treated me like shit. I speak my mind and refuse to take crap from anyone acting like an arsehole, so my only defence for being such a righteous bitch is that I had to grow up somehow, at some time, and sadly, this was the only way I knew how. I am not particularly proud of some of the things I did at school, but I’m not ashamed of them either. At least I am comfortable to live with my past sins. As for anyone else I mention in this story, they are only in it to support the existence of Mr Dave Mulling, with there being several good and bad people. Ordinarily, to write about school life, there should be more people involved due to it being so populated, but I am being extra selective for very good reasons. Half of the people mentioned are students or ex-students, while the other half are teachers, counsellors, associate principals, and one principal. Notice that I signified this principal with a distinct honour—someone who outdid me in the righteous bitch stakes and, obviously, not in a good way either. These people are proof that a life of honesty will greatly reward you or be your downfall. I think this best explains why this story would also get me into trouble, but it would also make these sad, pathetic arseholes look more shameful, which they deserve.
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About the Book
After being a high school teacher for more than ten years, I had the great need to write my novel, An Accessed Life, so as to balance my burning desire to be a novelist, whilst overcoming my prior depression due to what working for Australian public school sector did to my sense of well-being. I make no bones that this novel is a huge cathartic relief to what I and many other teachers must tolerate from a work force that provides very little to no sympathy or support to those responsible for shaping young lives that would otherwise be largely wasted or condemned to a failed future. Please understand that although I still enjoy teaching, the cynicism I express is not only well-founded, but in the direct context of my novel, fully aims to illustrate and entertain everyone about the trials and tribulations of what a teaching career will possibly do to the average person. The only other thing I must add is that my novel is the first book in a trilogy. I dearly hope that the following two novels will be an equally enjoyable experience for me, as well as for the average person who appreciates this sort of literature.
About the Author
I was born in Perth, Western Australia, and I have resided all my life in a coastal suburb called Trigg, barring a few holidays around Australia and overseas. I have held many jobs in my life, but the one that I have spent the most time and actual enjoyment in is being a teacher. Other than following a family tradition, as I have an older brother, several cousins, and an auntie who are all teachers, I believe in the great need of this vocation to perpetuate our youth in their chosen and/or desired area of work. I also feel this ambition greatly reflects my passion and drive to use my soon hopeful writing career to further the literacy skills of reading and writing in all young people. The only other thing to mention about myself is that I am qualified to teach Art, Drama, and Science. I consider myself to be a Renaissance man like Leonardo da Vinci; at least in the sense of being appreciative of all learning areas . . . even Mathematics. I know that last bit sounded awfully sarcastic . . . and it’s exactly why I wrote it.