About Sheree Pratt

Creative Writer; Artist; Face-painter; Singer / Songwriter; Photography Enthusiast; Pre-service Teacher

Much of Sheree Pratt’s creative writing is poetry, short stories, fanfiction, speecheswise quotes and scriptwriting. You can hear her readings and performances at Write Stuff.

Sheree is also a songwriter, singer and performer, often spotted busking in Bendigo or at Musicman’s Weekly Open Mic nights or at the Ernie Johns & Avalanche Road Show.

Sheree is not just a writer, she is a creator and since early childhood, growing up in Ipswich, has created works across different mediums, whether it’s drawing and painting, face-painting, design, film-making, photography or music.

A strong academic background in Contemporary Studies, Applied Media, Art and Design, and Writing influences much of her world view, and her many creative ideas and processes. Sheree is currently completing a Masters of Teaching in hopes to inspire the next generation to find their creative spark.

A passion for Sheree, creativity is a source of enjoyment and somewhat a journey. Her motto to live by is:

The Journey is the Destination

The Dog Needs A Girlfriend

The dog needs a girlfriend.


I’m covered again in slobber,

Not a dry spot on my head.

It’s on my ears and all over.

He’s in my space again.

Mum, I think it’s time,

For you sort this problem.

He needs help, poor guy.

The dog needs a girlfriend.


It’s not that I don’t love him.

But how do I explain?

He gets under my skin.

He’s at it all bloody day.

Hell is a slobbery dog kiss.

The torture never ends.

Mum, you’ve got to stop this!

The dog needs a girlfriend.


When all I want is peace

So I can close my eyes.

He just won’t leave me be.

I’ve nowhere I can hide.

We’re family, a gang, a pack.

But I cannot pretend

To love the dog, not like that.

The dog needs a girlfriend.


So for the sake of unity

Between canine and feline,

For the sake of my sanity

Mum, please, I think it’s time,

Before I sound my warning hiss

And sink my molars in again,

I can’t reciprocate his bliss.

The dog needs a girlfriend.

Why Luke and Lorelai’s Wedding Was Perfect


Gilmore Girls wedding was perfect for lead characters, Luke and Lorelai; leaves fans relieved but divided.

After nine years off the air, fans witnessed the wedding for the Gilmore Girls’ key couple. While they were relieved to see a resolution to the will-thy-or-won’t-they drama that plagued the seven seasons, but left hanging in the finale, many who expected the grand affair they missed out on in the original series, felt cheated, however knowing the couple at the heart of the feel-good drama, the ending of the reboot was poetic with the perfect wedding – for them.

“…she flitted from relationship to relationship, heartbreak to heartbreak…”

He was the man who poured her coffee and served her burgers and pie. The was the man who fixed her porch, brought her food at the hospital when her father was sick – twice, and helped her search for a lost baby chicken called Stella.

All the while, Luke Danes secretly pined for single mother, Lorelai Gilmore, while she flitted from relationship to relationship, heartbreak to heartbreak. and for seven years, audiences watched and waited for them to get it together and finally find happiness.


“There’s a chemistry there. Over time they really connect… but it took a while to get there.”

As the show, Gilmore Girls, crossed thethreshold from the 90’s to the early 21st century, the pair’s relationship crossed the threshold from customer, diner/owner to friends, and finally after four seasons, a couple. Finally, Lorelai (played by Lauren Graham) found in Luke (Scott Patterson), someone who didn’t trigger her infamous urge to bolt.

“His gruffness brings out her, sort of, flirtatiousness,” Lauren Graham told Entertainment Weekly.  “There’s a chemistry there. Over time they really connect. They need each other as balance; she lightens him up and he roots her a little bit, but it took a while to get there.”

Picture3Their relationship had not blossomed, without many hurdles, some that halted the beginning of their romance. There was a delinquent nephew (Jess – Milo Ventimiglia), his mother (Luke’s flakey sister Liz – Kathleen Wilhoite), who later became the catalyst for their transition from friends to lovers. Plus, there were brief flings with Rachel (Lisa Ann Hadley) and Nicole (Tricia O’Kelley), and the discovery of a daughter (April – Vanessa Marano), which brought more complication as Luke tried in vain to compartmentalize his life.

Add Lorelai’s controlling Mother, Emily (Kelly Bishop) and her revolving romances withMax (Scott Cohen), Jason (Chris Eigeman), Alex (Billy Burke) and high school sweetheart and father of her daughter Rory (Alexis Bledel), Christopher (David Sutcliff) and what appears to be a disaster could only resultin doom for Luke and Lorelai’s relationship.


Still they make it as far as ‘set in stone’ wedding plans for an affair fitfor a Gilmore and a short-lived, tumultuous engagement (Lorelai proposed), that ended with an ultimatum and a rendezvous between Lorelai and Christopher.

“… it really was a fantasy land…”

Picture5Everything appeared to line up for them, with Lorelai’s whirlwind planning of the particulars, that included a rose covered church with an 1850’s carousel, a reception hall, catered with duck sausage rolls, daisies and daisy themed invitations, and the perfect strapless tulle dress with the cream satin sash. Even the date suited their plans – the only day with no clashes, which Lorelai relayed to a gobsmacked Luke.


Naturally, the show’s ending left fans high and dry, despite a reconciliation between the pair, following Lorelai’s glowing character reference for Luke, the end of her impulse marriage to Christopher and karaoke serenade. No dream wedding happened between these characters and for nine years, the show left fans wondering what had become of its ultimate ‘will-they-or-won’t-they’ couple.

News of a revival, of the show, renewed interest in the outcome for Lorelai and Luke and the November 25, 2016 release of Gilmore Girls: A Year In The Life, saw the couple not engaged, not married nor with the family they had both dreamed of, but stuck in limbo, in a relationship, as ‘glorified room-mates’ as Emily commented during a therapy session.


Finally, the show ended with the wedding, fans were relieved to see eventuate. The ceremony aired was a far cry from the one planned in season 6, and was nothing like the one they discussed at the end of the final episode of the four-part re-boot, “Fall”, that included flash-mobs, a hot-dog cart, the perfect dress, a suit with a pocket square – a foreign concept for Luke, and Keifer Sutherland on the invite list.  Budget constraints led to an elaborate elopement that left fans divided.

“… dancers, a floral decorated Volkswagen Beetle, maze-like drapery and tall floral hedges, … fairy lights, fancy bowler hats, and an odd-shaped old door with a rustic key…”


After Kirk, the town ‘weirdo’ bursts into the Gilmore house and storms up the stairs to throw up in the upstairs bathroom, screaming, “It’s all ruined!”, audiences learn that he had been in charge of orchestrating the decoration of the town square for the wedding. After another of Lorelai’s impulse decisions, Luke and Lorelai, take Rory and sneak out to elope. Kirk receives the text, “IT’S PERFECT!” from Lorelai.

In a red carpet interview with Access Hollywood reporter, Lauren Graham, was reluctant to reveal too much, ““I think the way it’s handled, for these two, is just perfect.”


Picture10The show ends with a Steampunk Alice in Wonderland type affair, where only a small cluster of the show’s cast was present. While this left some audiences awe-struck, other’s felt unresolved having missed out on the grand affair, alluded to in previous scenes.

“… the way it’s handled, for these two, is just perfect…”

Scott Patterson told People Magazine, “Absolutely, the set was so beautifully constructed, it really was a fantasy land.”

There were dancers, a floral decorated Volkswagen Beetle, maze-like drapery and tall floral hedges, pink and tungsten fairy lights, fancy bowler hats, and an odd-shaped old door with a rustic key. Adding to the magic was a light shower of snow, fitting for a character who infamously reads snow as an omen.


“… Luke was to wear a suit and Lorelai would wear a wedding gown…”

With the pressure removed, they could enjoy their official wedding – the one audiences don’t see without the looming vow exchange or painful memories of their first ‘go-round’.

“… Why wasn’t the Chuppa in the Wedding!?!? …”

Of course the main reason this was the wedding audiences saw was due to budget constraints placed on the production, leaving the husband and wife writing team, Dan, and Amy (Sherman-) Palladino scrambling for a low budget alternative that would still finish the show on a high.

Picture12Still fans lamented for the wedding they never saw, particularly some of the key characters’ absences. Most noted was Emily, April and the chuppah Luke had made for Lorelai and Max’s wedding. “Why wasn’t the chuppah in the wedding!?!?” one fan posted on Twitter.

“… I wanna see the real L&L wedding …” Another drew parallels between Gilmore Girls and Bishops other show, Bunheads and her absences from both show’s weddings.


“I wanna see the rea L&L wedding…” This post summed up many the responses from disgruntled fans. Even the price of Lorelai’s dress came under scrutiny. “That’s all Lorelai Gilmore’s … dress was worth …  ? Y’all …  gonna wind up divorced,” was a fan’s response.  but in many ways their wedding was perfect for them. Luke was a simple character, with reclusive tendencies, who preferred routine, and took a no-fuss approach to life, while Lorelai, who had escaped the high-class world of her childhood, to forge a life for herself, had a quirky taste in home décor, music, movies and fashion, and fiercely protected her independence from that world.





This was a woman who preferred monkey lamps, coffee and Poptarts, over chandeliers, fancy banquets and high tea and a man who likes to keep his empire small. Both were infamous in the original series, for their impulsiveness and for bolting at the last minute. In a show characteristically full of Pop-culture references and zany personalities, a stuffy formal affair, even one with flash-mobs and an open hotdog cart, would not have suited the two at the centre of the occasion.


Very little is revealed about the planned wedding, but it was to take place during the town’s Harvest Festival and include a huge guest list of people from the town, especially Emily Gilmore, inn co-owner, Sookie (Melissa McCarthy) and Luke’s old fishing buddy, Keifer. Luke was to wear a suit and Lorelai would wear a wedding gown.


Instead they are both dressed in black, and in the final scene, Lorelai is sipping wine with Rory on the Gazebo steps, at dawn on the official wedding day, overlooking the town.

What does it mean when a guy says he doesn’t like you anymore? I ended my friendship with him and he said he understood.

What does it mean when a guy says he doesn’t like you anymore? I ended my friendship with him and he said he understood.

I have been in this situation, myself and I can tell you it’s not an easy one to just ‘move on’ from. It doesn’t matter how good the friendship, when ‘feelings’ get in the way and are not reciprocated, or they change their mind, the difficult decision to make is to stay in the friendship and try to move past it or wait for that friend to change their mind, or to walk away from the friendship or take a break from that person.
It sounds like you’ve gone with option B which (though hurts the most) is healthy in the long run.  More

What do you say to your husband if he says he is truly sorry for hitting you?

There’s no easy way of saying this.

Even if your partner says he (or she) is “truly sorry”, it’s likely they are just empty words, and you’ll be waiting while the proverbial ‘time bomb ticks’ for your partner to do it again. (More)Worthy

Read Sunchild Pratt‘s answer to What do you say to your husband if he says he is truly sorry for hitting you? on Quora

I have been bullied for several years in school and now in college I have developed social anxiety and have trouble making friends. How do I overcome this?

It sounds like you have some deep seeded wounds that you need to heal and you are recognising that the barrier between you and a healthy social life is you. ( More)

Read Sheree Pratt‘s answer to I have been bullied for several years in school and now in college I have developed social anxiety and have trouble making friends. How do I overcome this? on Quora

Photojournalism with Brendan McCarthy no

By Sheree Pratt

What could a photographer possibly have to offer a room, packed full of writers? Our most recent speaker, Photographer and former journalist for the Bendigo Advertiser and Australian Geographic publications, Brendan McCarthy commenced his talk with that exact question.

The first half of the February 21st session was a showcase of some of McCarthy’s notable works, each accompanied with a story, of experiences surrounding the shots’ mise-en-scène, purposes for the shot and short synopsis of the article for which some photos supported.

As a group we explored elements of narrative including character, and situation. Things like where and how to find the story, creating and developing the story and letting the story evolve were discussed.

The group also debated the role of Photoshop in manipulation the story, determining that it often jeopardises the authenticity of the story, the credibility of the photograph and often the integrity and the storyteller, such as journalists, editors and photographers.

The workshop in the second half of the session was an opportunity for writers to unpack the visual elements of a shot to interpret meaning to find or create the story. Who was the man in the photograph with the hat? What was he doing there? What’s going on in the background? Where are they? These were just some of the questions that sparked our written exploration.

The activity revealed the way personal perspective influenced the interpretation of visual stimuli to generate a story.

The commonality, we concluded throughout this exploration, what writers and photographers share is that in our craft we are each storytellers.


Bruizer Vs Donald Trump’s Cat


I will share my favourite couch with anybody, so long as they repay me in scratches behind the ears. I especially love sitting in my spot in the middle, between my two favourite humans when they sit together in the evenings, watching the News.

Today however, I don’t really like the man taking up space and all of Masters attention at the moment. I’m curled up beside my human, resting my chin on his lap. Having just woken up from my recent micro-nap I master is holding Donald Trump. I don’t mean the real Donald Trump of course, just his picture on the cover of Masters book. Master reads a lot but this book surprises me I’ve seen this man a lot lately on TV when my humans watch the News. I don’t know much about him but a lot of people on the News say he is mean and sometimes he sure looks it, too. He must be mean, because the News says he likes cats. This must be true because he lets one sleep on his head, even when people are taking pictures of him.

I don’t really like cats. Even though I’ve only ever lived with one, Princess Puss, I have it on pretty good authority that that they are all as grouchy, demanding and spiteful as Princess Puss. I have no doubt Donald’s cat is equally mean, even when it sleeps. I really think that vile creature is always atop it’s human’s head transmitting it’s mean-ness directly into poor old Don’s head. I mean that would surely explain the mean things the man says and does on the TV and his computer. Naturally the thing is presiding over the man’s head in the picture on Master’s book, as if he was a furry crown on a king.

Master abruptly closes the book and places it beside me on the couch – MY couch. I ignore Donald, vowing to deal with him soon, instead raising my head and nudging Master’s hand. I work my pleading round button eyes, fixing them intently on my oblivious Master.

Ignoring my not so subtle attempts to win his attention, Master rises from the couch and disappears from the room, leaving me alone on the couch with Donald Trump. Now don’t get me wrong I don’t hate the man. I’m a dog. I don’t really hate anyone. It’s just not in my nature. I just don’t want to share my couch with him.

Granting the man, mercy I keep a watchful eye on him as I rest my chin on the couch cushion, facing that wretched book, ensure that neither Donald nor his sleeping cat move from that cover. That’s when my mind starts to wander.

Suddenly I’m on the front steps if a big white house with giant pillars reaching to the the sky. There are millions of people around with pens scratching note pads, handheld computers and phones, squealing microphones and flashing cameras. In the distance I can see large dishes on top of minivans and I wonder for a minute how many bags of my favourite bikkies it would take to fill them. I salivate at the thought.

With all of those people talking at once there is a hum in the crowd like a million bees feeding their Queen, only a thousand decibels louder, cutting through their microphones’ high pitched squeals. Still the frequency of those squeals is hurting my ears and I let out a long howl to relieve it.

I look up at the man standing beside me in his grey suit and red tie and I feel a sudden urge to help this man, especially when I see the speck of dirt on his otherwise shiny black leather left shoe. I try first with my tongue to clean it off, but that only leaves a bubbling pool of drool, which just won’t do. Feeling frustrated and a little ashaned, of the mess I had made, I decide to fix the problem, the best way I know how.

The crowd laughs as I cock my leg, high as I can an proceed to empty my bladder, not realising how much of it is splashing on his trousers. The show is now clean and shiny as his other and I am feeling satisfied that I have managed to solve the first of this man’s many problems.

I fix my eyes on the next big problem in dire need of solving and begin barking incessantly at the sleeping cat, but I figure he must be too deeply entrenched in the Land of Nod to hear me because he does not wake. He simply snores on. Gasps from the crowd turn to loud ‘awwws’ as the cameras snap away at the man, now picking me up and scratching the itch in my favourite spot behind my ears. Soaking up this man’s affections and finding myself starting to like him, I momentarily grant the sleeping cat mercy. Maybe, I think to myself, this man is not as bad as the News says. I tell him so by returning his affections with licks to the face, even solving the minor issue of the ketchup around his mouth. I take care of the spot if it on his cheek.

Then I remember the original mission and decide to take advantage of this new much closer vantage point. I lunge at the cat, who finally awakes suddenly. Of course the wretched thing begins screeching and hissing.

Smack! He strikes my face, claws extended and then takes a flying leap from the man’s head and scurries away, leaving behind a pale balding head, and a shocked, gasping crowd. I try to lick away the wiry bits of stray hairs the cat has left blowing in the breeze.

“Thank you kind, Sir.” The man is smiling broadly as I nestle back in his arms. The crowd is now cheering wildly, since the cat’s quick exit stage right into the bushes. “I thought I would never get rid of that horrid cat.”

He holds me up beside his face and I turn my face to the cameras for my inevitable moment in the spotlight. I wag my tail and flash them all with a big, goofy, tongue hanging out, puppy grin. “Now this is what should be on the cover or your book!” I tell him with more licks to the side of his face while the cameras snap away and the crowd roars with laughter. The man is nodding in agreement.

“Bruizer!” Master’s booming bellow cuts suddenly into my reverie. I find myself cowering on the couch while Master towers over me. He snatches the book away, the pages now completely shredded, and holds it up, while the slobber and wee drip off it. A white cloud is now covering most of Donald’s face and there is no sign of the cat under the second cloud atop his head. “Outside! Now!” I slink off the couch in the direction Master is pointing, with my head bowed low. I give him my best apologetic look. “Naughty!” He shouts, shaking the book in the air as I push my way outside through the small doggie door. Sitting on the freezing cold wooden porch, I spy through the gap of the still swinging door to see Master throw the now shredded book with Donald Trump’s now cloudy face into a nearby waste paper basket.

Of course my remorse is real, but I feel an overwhelming wave of triumph. I really didn’t mean to annihilate the man by ripping his face off or shredding the books pages. I just wanted to chase the cat away and I did that, job done. Master will forgive me I’m sure and I will soon be allowed back inside out of the cold, but most important of all is, the cat no longer sleeps on Donald Trump’s head, feeding him those vile thoughts through his scalp.