Suzenyms

Indigo Blue

2011-08-08T10:11:00.003-06:00

Children say the most amazing things. When my son D was four or five, he told me, "Don't eat the sky, Mommy. It's too blue for you."

I was completely taken aback, amazed that this small child would spout such advice, as if the message was nearly too deep to be understood. Such metaphor! Was it about obsession, about passion, about drive - and what those things would cost me? Or was I reading too much into a childish fantasy? Of course I was, all he really meant was I shouldn't eat the sky, but still - that he should see me capable of such a thing was incredible. Such power a parent wields.

Twenty-one years later, I'm in Chapters on the Calgary Trail, browsing books with my sister who is visiting from Virginia. I pick up a book entitled "Indigo: In Search of the Color That Seduced the World" by Catherine E. McKinley. From the back cover, the book describes the trade in indigo and how it was linked to the slave trade from Africa to the new world. I'm tempted to buy the book because it might be a good reference for the trilogy I'm working on - a historical paranormal romance set in Spain during the Inquisition. Unfortunately, the book is $33.00 for the hard cover. I set the book down, decide against it because I don't want to spend that much. I pick it up again, still compelled and thinking, "Well, I'll just read the Introduction. Maybe there's something in there to convince me."

This is what I read:

"In ancient times, when the heavens hung closer to the earth, there was a woman who lived in the land through which the Niger River flows. One day, she went to the river and as she gazed at the waters and the reflection of the sky upon them, a hunger overcame her. She felt a great loneliness for God, who, tired of being whacked by the pestles of busy women and wanting peace, had ascended up high. She felt too, a hunger for beauty - beyond any beauty of the known world. She yearned for hair as blue as thunder, for cloth that was not simple white cotton. She wanted to become one with the sky!

Now in those times, bits of sky could be eaten. It was different from other foods. Rice fills the belly, but sky fills the heart. The woman reached for the sky and broke off a piece. But eating the sky could be dangerous business. One could become selfish in their desire, intoxicated, and this was a terrible taboo. The woman's hunger was stronger than her fear of what she knew had been forbidden, and she devoured more and more until she was drunk with it...."

Coincidence? Synchronicity? A message from the lips of my child about a past life shared? Who's to know? But the story speaks to me, and like the woman in the story, I yearn for that which, at times, seems impossibly out of reach.

Of course, I bought the book.

And if you write, or dance, or paint, or do anything at all that is creative, you'll know this hunger like I do.

Tesseracts Fifteen Copy Edit Done!

2011-03-30T13:40:00.007-06:00

I know I promised to write about why I chose the stories I did, but I need to write this first instead—the copy edit for Tesseracts Fifteen: A Case of Quite Curious Tales is finally done. I didn't expect to have to do it all, nor did I expect that it would take the effort that it did (it took me ten full days of obsessive fussing). I’ll send the manuscript to Julie tomorrow to handle the formatting for the lay-out.

Now that it's out of my hands, I want to educate the writing public at large on some of the finer points of fussiness with which I've had to wrestle this past week. If you’re not a writer, this probably won’t interest you. Move on to the next blog. If you are, please, for my sake, pay bloody attention. One never knows when I’ll have to do this again, but if I do, I’d like to do as little of it as possible.

I’ve come to hate "em" dashes. Most of us like to write them like this: -- (a carryover from the old typewriter days) or this: - (an "en" dash) but both of those are a "no no" with Edge's House style. The true em dash should look like this—with no spaces before or aft. There were at least a million of them I had to fix. (Okay, I didn’t count, I was just too busy, but it certainly felt like that.) I am now also an expert on ellipses (three dots with no spaces, unless they fall at the end of a sentence and then they become four), on hyphenated words, on the use of commas in the Canadian style and in American spelling vs. Canadian spelling (also Edge’s preference, since Edge also sells to American markets and perhaps we Canadians are less bothered by American spelling than vice-versa. No insult intended to my American friends, of course).

Other pet peeves? Straight apostrophe's instead of curved ones that sneak into the prose, and skulking double spaces that follow a period. And Word, almost always too helpful, doesn't highlight those. You have to catch those, yourself.

I also want to take this moment to thank Robin Carson, our resident grammatical expert at On Spec magazine for helping me with some of the finer points.

I’m glad it’s done. I'm relieved it's done. As far as I can tell, there's no indication of carpel tunnel syndrome settling into my right wrist. Next time, I promise, they’re be no whining from yours truly. Instead, I'll offer praises about the stories I loved, and why I chose the ones I did.

Tesseracts 15 Authors - Here They Are!

2011-03-21T13:18:00.006-06:00

For those of you who are interested and have been waiting to hear, this is our table of contents line-up:

A Safety of Crowds by E.L. Chen
Fragile Things by Amanda Sun
Just Dance by Erika Holt
Poem - adaptation by Francine Lewis
Saving the Dead, or The Diary of an Undertaker’s Apprentice by Jennifer Greylyn
Feral by Nicole Luiken
A+ Brain by Katrina Nicholson
The Road of Good Intentions by Cat McDonald
The Windup Heiress by Leslie Brown
The Bridge Builder by Kevin Cockle
My Name is Tommy by Mike Rimar
Darwin's Vampire by Elise Moser
Costumes by Shen Braun
Poem - Civility by J.J. Steinfeld
Take My Waking Slow by Michele Ann Jenkins
The Weirdo Adventures of Steve Rand by Claude Lalumière
Every You, Every Me by Virginia Modugno
The Oak Girl by Helen Marshall
Edge of Moonglow by Ed Greenwood
Split Decision by Robert Runte
Hide by Rebecca M. Senese
Four Against Chaos by Kurt Kirchmeier
Ice Pirates by Claire Eamer
Poem - You Always Knew by Michelle Barker
The Illumination of Cypher-Space by Lynne M. MacLean
The Tremor Road by Tony Pi
The Memory Junkies by K. Boorman

This is YA as you've never seen before. In the next day or so, I'll be posting about why we chose these particular pieces from among more than 250 submissions. Stay tuned.

We're Rarely Thanked for Rejections

2011-03-21T09:50:00.003-06:00

Yesterday, Julie and I received this e-mail through Brian Hades at Edge. I've not included the writer's name for obvious reasons, but this was a first for me:

Dear Brian,

Thank you for the notification re: the status of my submission to Tesseracts 15.

Please, if you could, forward to Julie and Susan my thanks for considering my story for the anthology.

I am impressed. Her story came very, very close to being chosen. Rejection is always hard to take, but here is someone who handles it graciously. I hope I meet her in person some day.

New Baby

2011-03-17T09:51:00.003-06:00

Here it is: the cover of my new baby, Tesseracts 15: A Case of Quite Curious Tales, edited by yours truly and Julie Czerneda. I'm very proud.

We've picked the stories and poems - 27 of them in all, and all of them are wonderful. I'm happy to say, we also have three fantastic Edmonton writers included in the anthology: Kate Boorman (whom I have yet to meet), Nicole Luiken (who is a personal friend and fellow-member of my writing group, The Cult of Pain) and.... ta dah! Cat McDonald, who works with me as an editor at On Spec. I'm not sure, but I think this may be Cat's first sale.

And just so you know, I don't believe in publishing friends' work because they are friends or colleagues. It's the quality of the work that counts with me. I had to reject other folks I know, and their work was good. What I've learned from doing Tesseracts is that the work must be better than good. It has to be perfect, both technically and artistically. It has to be special, original, engaging, and rise above the rest. The competition was that intense.

I'll be involved in the copy-edit shortly, and then the manuscript is off to Brian Hades, publisher at Edge Books. In the meantime, I have two days to work on my novel, the second in my planned trilogy, while I wait to hear how the first one is doing.

Always busy. It's no wonder this poor wee blog rarely gets any attention anymore. And on that Irish note, a Happy St. Pat's Day, to everyone.

Update

2010-11-13T09:43:00.005-07:00

An awful title, I know, but I can't think of anything better this Saturday morning. It's been quite awhile since I posted.

I think I have a love/hate relationship with my blog. I want to talk about what I've been doing and what I think, much of it personal, but I find I throttle back. Some things are better kept to yourself, especially if they involve annoying personal dynamics with other people. And of course, this is the stuff that gets people buzzing and which I find interesting to read in anybody else's blog, but it's not very professional. So I desist, more now, than I ever used to.

There are some cool things happening - I'll be reading manuscripts for Tesseracts 15 soon, and I'm looking forward to it. My co-editor Julie Czerneda wanted to extend the deadline, as some of the well-known writers she knows asked if that could be done to accommodate their writing schedules, but we are not extending it. The deadline remains in place at November 30, 2010, so if you write YA and are reading this, get your work in to Edge by then.

My own work progresses well. My first book is 'out there'. I've finished writing the outline for book two of my trilogy and have managed to keep to my writing quota of 5,000 words a week. I've only been writing since November 4th, and I am on target. I hope to get as much done this month (20,000 words) before I have to start reading manuscripts for Tesseracts 15. I'm also hoping I can keep writing while I'm reading the slush, but we'll see how that goes. Personally, I think I can do it. I don't want to stop working.

Tonight, I visit with fellow writers from the Cult of Pain. It's been months since I've attended a group meeting. I'm looking forward to seeing old friends and faces, as well as meeting a few of the newer members.

Tesseracts 15

2010-09-02T09:20:00.004-06:00

Well, my biggest news of late is something I've known since I went to Keycon in Winnipeg in May. Brian Hades, publisher at Edge, asked me and Julie Czerneda to co-edit the Tesseracts anthology, Tesseracts 15: A Case of Quite Curious Tales. The theme? Young Adult. I am very excited about it.

I think writing YA may be a bigger challenge than writing adult speculative fiction. The writer has to dig deep in order to not only entertain the kids (13 and up) but to engage adults who enjoy reading good SF, regardless of age appropriate content. This means not sending us watered down versions of adult SF, but solid, gripping work that appeals on a number of levels. And, of course, all my rules of what not to do will apply: don't send me flat, cut-out characters or place markers, don't bore me with unoriginal plots or memes, don't do what's popular and already done (unless you're so amazingly good with your treatment of zombies, vampires or schools of magic that I can't say 'no').

What am I looking for? Worlds seen through the eyes of the young, situations that are awkward, funny, difficult, quirky, odd, poignant, terrifying or heart-wrenching. I want to see characters that grow, succeed, fail, or learn. I want to be entertained or affected. I will accept nothing less.

The website mentions that "we seek wonder and astonishment". True enough, although I expect only the very best writers can pull those off; I'm pretty critical and not easily astonished. If you can make me laugh or cry, that will be good enough.

Send us your stuff. I'm looking forward to reading it.

Gatekeepers

2010-06-23T14:28:00.008-06:00

I borrowed this link from my friend, Rachel, who had it posted on Facebook. (Hope you don't mind, Rach, but this was such a good post. It's entitled When Anyone Can Be a Published Author and is all about the future direction of publishing. You can check it out at: http://www.salon.com/books/laura_miller/2010/06/22/slush. (Forgive the lack of highlight - for some reason, the link feature isn't working on Blogger.)

With the rise in self-publishing going on, I predict a new type of Gatekeeper will emerge - the readers, themselves. Readers will resent spending money on inferior work. They'll start to take notice of the established publishing houses, both large and small. If they run into a publisher they don't recognize (because the self-published author has created a fake publishing house, for example), they'll think twice before buying a book.

I don't worry that established agents, editors, and publishers might be replaced. They won't be; there will always be a place for them and even more so, in the future. It may, however, take another ten years for readers to become astute.

Too Much to Do

2010-06-23T09:47:00.003-06:00

I have too much to do in the next three days, so what am I doing? Blogging.

Forgive the boring post, but it'll make me feel better just to whinge about it. I have manuscripts to read for an On Spec Fight Night on Friday night at my place. I don't particularly want to read them because I also have a novel to finish, but I have to because I also want to continue being an editor, and that's what editors do. I have a house to clean before Fight Night, a lawn to cut, dogs to walk, a kid to run to the orthodontist, groceries to pick up, pants to tailor, laundry (as always) and a dinner to plan.

Okay. Whinging complete. Signing off to do it.

Is it just me?

2010-06-22T08:24:00.003-06:00

The last dream I had this morning before I woke up annoyed the heck out of me. Which annoyed me even more when I woke up. I don't like annoying dreams. I don't usually have them. I have no idea why I'd even have one.

Now, I can pinpoint the irritations in my life - lately, me and the novel in progress. I'm rewriting the opening yet again and it's going slow, but I don't think this is enough to really bother me. Sometimes the prose flows, and sometimes it stagnates and you just belly flop through it. No, the dream was more of a compilation of past issues. In a nutshell, I was inconvenienced with meeting this group of people downtown (who, in real life, have nothing to do with each other), and then excluded from the group (they were heading to a spa, if you can imagine). The dream was really silly.

Anyway, I'm trying to get over being annoyed this morning because I don't like being annoyed. And then it dawned on me - am I picking up on someone else's stuff? Because, really, there isn't enough happening in my life that might be annoying.

I suppose it could be my sub-conscious trying to get through and tell me that I've got some unresolved issues, or maybe its hormones out of whack, or not getting enough sleep and too much coffee. But really, I can't pinpoint it. So, who knows? I just don't think my own stuff is enough to annoy me to that extent. I also tend to pick up on other people's 'stuff'. Past experience has shown me.

Argh. I feel like I've been slimed. I think I'll go sit out on my deck and try to enjoy my tea.

To Ottawa and Back Again

2010-06-08T14:35:00.004-06:00

For those of you who aren't aware of it, I just got back from Ottawa. I went there for my Uncle Donald's memorial - he died last January but my elderly aunt wanted to put off his memorial until June when the weather was better. I had a great visit with my cousins. Uncle Don's memorial was touching. Overall, the trip was super except for a few annoying and odd moments which you have to expect when traveling with my mother and sister.

To start: Let me say that it is extremely embarrassing to find oneself standing in the security line, only to have one's mother confide that she's feeling the urge to poop for all and sundry to hear. At times like that, one glances nervously about and wears a shit-eating grin, expecting at any moment for the song 'Bring in the Loons' to play. There is no such song as 'Bring in the Loons' but for times like that, there should be. One also tends to be a bit jumpy hearing such a confession, particularly when the confessor also feels the need to carry on. I quickly developed the habit of holding up my hand and muttering 'Stop' whenever I thought she was about to swerve into disturbing territory. I can't remember what else I jumped on, but she finally said, "Well, fine. I won't say anything. You talk." She may have also been a bit put off with me for plugging into my headphones for most of the trip there, but by the time we landed in Ottawa, things were rosy.

After the first night in Ottawa (at my cousins' farm) we drove for five hours to Barry, Ontario, for my uncle's memorial. We ended up at a B & B, which turned out to be a little odd. My second cousin Cathy set up the accommodations without really checking the place out.

A visual: A circa 1960's large brick house with its original orange and yellow shag rug in the rec-room. A suite in the rec-room (shared by me, my sister, and my mother) which consisted of two lumpy hide-a-beds, a fireplace, bowling trophies, and folding closet doors instead of real ones. Let me repeat that: No real doors with locks, just folding closet ones. Outside our 'suite' with the folding doors, a common area with couches and TV for the host and hockey fans to watch, which they did, after we went to bed. Sheer drapes on our windows, so the folks outside were able to watch us while we slept, changed and bickered. A shared bathroom for six people, two of whom we'd never met and were from Manitoba.

Did I mention the shag rug was damp?

As soon as we got there, my mother dove into the bathroom as if on a bombing mission, intent on leaving all of her night-time paraphernalia decorating the bathroom counter (which was small). I told her not to because I was feeling pissy and didn't want to maneuver around her clutter. I said something about the necessity of sharing the space with other people - we must consider others (me), don't you know. My sister waded in and told Mom to leave her stuff there and that I should give mom a break, to which I snapped that Sharon should give me a break and left in a huff, only to learn that the couple from Manitoba was also sharing our bathroom. Whereupon I returned in triumph to inform my mother and sister that I had reasons for saying what I did. (I didn't feel they needed to know I had only just learned about the couple from Manitoba.) The important thing was - we were not exclusive. My mother freaked out. Which allowed me to swoop in and play the saint - we can deal with this, if we just stay calm. It's not a big deal. We are made of stern stuff. We shall endure.

Later, my sister and I got quite giddy and considered stealing the bowling trophies. We also thought we might leave them with the cousins - something for them to wonder about until they figured the girls were 'kleptos'. Needless to say, we didn't stay a second night at the B & B nor filch the bowling trophies. We packed up and drove back to our cousins' place after the funeral.

My uncle's memorial was lovely, though.

Obsessive

2010-06-01T10:15:00.004-06:00

My last post talked about my obsession with writing. This one is about how I need to get away from writing once in awhile, because, as anyone knows, any obsession can drive you nuts. I tend to get away from one obsession by replacing it with another. This also drives me crazy, because I tend to organize my life without leaving a lot of leeway for 'doing nothing'.

I need a break from me.

I went to Winnipeg to Key Con and had a terrific time although I think I picked up a mild flu bug, which wasn't fun. Over the long weekend, I kept it at bay with ginger ale. Got back home to Edmonton and spent three intensive days buying bedding plants and putting them in the garden before it rained. Over the last weekend and yesterday, I painted the bathroom. Today, I'll finish the trim and then read as many manuscripts from the slush as I can before I head off to Ottawa on Thursday for my uncle's memorial. I suspect all of this would be fine, if I didn't tackle everything with self-imposed time limits. That's another obsession of mine - to get as much done in as little time as possible.

I'm actually looking forward to going to Ottawa with my mother and sister, although with my mother in tow, that could be a mixed blessing. Her obsession is fear. She's always worried. Where I'm concerned, it's about whether I've done or not done something.

Hmmm. I think I see a connection, here.

State of Mind

2010-05-20T09:02:00.004-06:00

A couple of days ago, I posted that I'd finished the novel on Facebook. I received some nice 'waytogo's', including one from my husband who commented that 'writing was a lifestyle'. He would look at it that way. Bless his generous heart, he supports me and lets me indulge this obsession. From his point of view, writing is how I arrange my life.

That's true and not true. I don't see writing as a lifestyle, particularly. I see it as a perpetual state of mind. Because he doesn't live in my head, he has no idea of how obsessed I really am.

When I'm not actively writing, I'm thinking about the plot in nearly every waking moment unless I happen to be doing something else that demands my immediate attention. I even dream plot. I often wake up thinking about the book - it's the first thing on my mind, and thank God that it is; the things that go through my head in the morning are how I might make the story better, where I didn't explain enough, or where the logic doesn't make sense. I often wake up fully present, because my mind has been working while I sleep.

A friend once said that writing is a 'solitary art'. I suppose it is, but I never feel alone when I write. When I'm actively working, I have my characters for company. I'm never bored. I'm never lonely. The worst thing that can come from a day spent at the laptop is a sore back. The world in my head is more diverting than the one I live - so much so, that I'm glad to leave the computer and do something else after a day of it - like walk the dogs, or talk to the kids, garden, or dance. My outer life is a relief from the intensity of my inner one.

I think most writers exist this way. We're 'tip of the iceberg' people. What you see on the surface does not reflect where we live.

End...

2010-05-18T07:44:00.002-06:00

This won't be the final word count, but here it is:

89304 / 89304 words. 100% done!

Unfortunately, I still have to rewrite the opening and tweak the rest of the novel. And surprise of surprises, I realized yesterday, that this book would likely be classified as a paranormal romance. Who knew?

Sometimes, the most obvious things are right in front of you. You just don't see them, 'till you reach 'the end'. :-)

Epilogue

2010-05-07T09:22:00.005-06:00

I finished the climax yesterday. All I have to do now, is write the epilogue. Strangely enough, I'm not sure I want to sit down at the computer and do that today. I think I want to savour this moment, ease into it. I know what the epilogue will be - a nice little wrap-up where my two main characters have returned to a setting littered with dead. Despite the grim finale, I hope there will be a sense of deeper commitment to each other and to their people. The end can stand alone, or it can (I hope) leave readers wanting to read a Book Two. This rewrite has taken me a year to do. I spent another year writing the original version. In this revision, I've kept some of the main characters, condensed others, lost some entirely. This version is better.

I figure the epilogue might take another 2000 words. I intend to rewrite the beginning (yet again) based on some of the feedback I've received and also to tie in an important secondary character who makes a reappearance in the final chapters of the book. I originally thought this novel might run at around 100,000 to 110,000 words. I think it'll round out at 90,000.

Anyway, I'm easing into the finish. I'm going to enjoy this process - so different from the first time I tackled it. I love my characters, and I love this story. Hope others will, too. :-)

86656 / 90000 words. 96% done!

If I Don't Answer the Phone, Don't Send Your Guy Out

2010-04-26T18:34:00.005-06:00

Note above to Nutri-Lawn. If I ignore your phone calls, don't send your guy out to fertilize the lawn. The dogs might be loose in the back yard, and Tessa, who is exceedingly territorial, might get the wrong idea and chew your guy's leg off.

Luckily, that didn't happen. I did, however, have to fight the dogs at the back door and bar their way from indulging in a pant leg smorgasbord. I also didn't appreciate the lawn guy telling me that 'when we called yesterday, somebody from your place said it was okay to come out.' That was so far from the truth he should have been fertilizing his nose. And I wasn't pleased to find that he had disconnected the sump pump hose and didn't bother to replace it on his exit.

Still, it was good that I caught him waltzing through the yard, because if I hadn't he would have left us an invoice for fertilizer that we didn't want, and I would have been really ticked about that. So it all turned out okay and limbs were not lost.

Susan and the Slush Pile

2010-04-15T15:05:00.006-06:00

Stupid title, I know, but I've been reading slush and I can't think of anything else at the moment, except perhaps, The Slush that Ate my Brain. I refuse to type it in the title box and embarrass myself.

Still, you'd think that some writers would know better. I have two titles in the pile which I have yet to read - one, which is the name of a fairy tale involving giants and beans, and another which adds an 's' to The Secret Garden, making it 'Gardens'. Now maybe these are fabulous reads - I don't know - I haven't looked at them yet, but if titles are any indication, you can probably guess what I think is in store. If a writer can't come up with an original title, why should I think the prose will be any better?

As usual, we've had a couple of submissions from writers who sent us their 5000 word stories in regular 4 X 10 letter envelopes. By the time all of us read these, the envelopes have committed hara-kiri and the SASEs are either lost or leaping for freedom from the book bags. I wish these people would spend the money on decent sized envelopes, instead of pretzeling their work into fictional origami. The good news is, paper submissions will soon be a thing of the past at On Spec. We're setting things up to accept e-submissions.

It always strikes me as odd when writers address their work to me individually. I suppose some book has told them that if they address their envelope to a specific editor, they'll have a greater chance of getting accepted by the magazine. There is some truth to this 'notice' factor. I do sit up and take note when an envelope is sent to me. If I don't recognize the name, I always wonder if I've met the writer at a convention or at a workshop. On the other hand, if one of the other editors is addressed, I wonder - what? I don't count? I'm not important? I say this very tongue in cheek, but it does come across as if the rest of us are being ignored. Best to send work to the editorial team.

I want to also say something about cover letters. There's no point in trying to impress us (or worse, flatter us) in a cover letter. One guy wrote to commend us on what a great job we were doing, how we were invaluable contributors to the Canadian SF scene - he went on and on. I resent anyone who thinks I'm dumb enough to be swayed by this kind of gilded BS. As well, the writer who wrote to 'ask' what we're looking for must think we have nothing better to do than to answer letters. If he were a painter, would he query the public to ask what they'd like to see hanging on their walls? Writers should write what inspires them, what comes to their minds, hearts, souls. Either we'll love the work or we won't. If we're not crazy about it, chances are someone else will be.

As usual, there were some brilliant pieces that I read this time around - a new one from a writer whose work I have personally championed in the past (although he doesn't know it). I saw his name on the envelope and hoped his new story would deliver. After reading it, I wanted to leap up from my chair and dance around the kitchen. Another manuscript came from a 13 year old girl whose grasp of the English language would challenge Jane Austen - my God, if I had been able to write like that when I was her age, I wouldn't be sitting on my butt writing posts about cover letters or envelope size. Her work wasn't quite there, but I foresee a great future for her. She's both gifted and amazing. Her name, I will remember.

Anyway, I've another twenty manuscripts to read before the next Fight Night. Despite my complaints above, I am enjoying it.

While Waiting for the Plumber...

2010-04-01T12:57:00.004-06:00

I'm waiting for the plumber. We have two toilets that have decided to weep questionable seepage from their seals - I'm going to pretend it's only water - so in the meantime, I am reading slush. Which I would be doing anyway, because we editors are behind, which has also resulted in some good news. On Spec may soon be accepting electronic submissions, although we're not quite set up for that. But soon, I hope. Let it be soon.

Anyway, toilets and e-subs have little to do with reading the slush, although in a strange way, they do.

I have just finished reading half a dozen stories this morning. I have four left to read from Batch One, and at this point in the day, I find myself wishing for short work. Oh, please, Submission God, send me short, pithy stories that entertain me and take little time to read. But no, looking at the pile, there are four heavy-weights bench-pressing at about 6,000 words. I'm tired of reading. I want to go home.

But, of course, I am home. And I'm waiting for a plumber to fix leaky toilets while I read the slush. Somehow, it all fits.

Cover Letter Faux Pas

2010-03-31T09:58:00.002-06:00

Before I start reading stories from the On Spec slush pile, the first thing I do is to set up an excel spread sheet so I can keep track of who writes what, where the writer is from (for granting purposes, we have to ensure we have 80% Canadian content), a place for my comments, and how I would rate each piece. As I remove the cover letter, I scan it for biographical info. Today, a small slip of paper slid from an envelope that also contained a cover letter and manuscript. The slip pointed out what we editors might miss regarding the SF content which the writer said becomes evident near the end.

Now, I ask you. If you were a magazine editor, would you need some writer to point out what he thought you might miss about his work? I read the slip of paper a second time. He seemed worried that we might dismiss his story before reading it to its end.

We don't toss work after only reading a few pages. We read almost every manuscript to its finish, unless it is so poorly written that we don't have the stomach for it.

I read his cover letter a second time. He had good credentials. Unfortunately, he also pointed out that he had a sardonic and inviting style.

It's never a good idea to tell an editor how to edit or to pass positive opinions on your style. In the former, some editors might take offense, and in the latter, you might come across as bragging. For me, the work always speaks for itself.

Spring Break

2010-03-29T09:32:00.004-06:00

I am in such a great mood this morning. Not sure why - I suspect it has to do with the marvelous weather and the fact that I just heard a blue jay at our feeder. Normally, I'd be grumpy because it's spring break and my writing time is usually disturbed when E is off from school. As well, I've put off reading the slush for far too long (which can be a chore), and I need to get at it.

But I don't care! I'm hopeful that I might be able to read slush outside on the deck in the sunshine. And Spring always makes me happy. The snow has pretty much disappeared from the back yard and I can see grass. Some of my perennials are greening up, and it looks like the roses I planted last year survived. My mother-in-law tells me to put out the hummingbird feeder by mid-April, so I'll try that this year in the hopes that I can encourage the birds to stick around the garden. And I am so looking forward to getting the garden back into shape. I love being outside and working in the dirt. Green and flowers are as essential to me as breathing.

Off to work now. And maybe I'll rake the lawn and sprinkle some pansy seeds in the garden like the Jolly Jump-ups I've pictured above, later. :-)

Photo Op with the Women (and man) of the Apocalypse

2010-03-28T09:42:00.004-06:00

I 'borrowed' this photo from Billie Millholland on Facebook. Billie, along with Eileen Bell, Roxanne Felix, and Ryan T. McFadden are the authors of Women of the Apocalypse through Absolute XPress, an imprint through Hades Publications or Edge Books in Calgary. That's Ryan on the left, with me on the right. Not a great photo of me, but I obviously look like I'm having fun. I was.

Women of the Apocalypse is a good read. The book is an Aurora nominee, as is On Spec once again, this year. If On Spec doesn't win, then I hope Billie, Eileen, Roxanne, and Ryan do. In the spirit of friendly competition, I wish them all the best.

And lest I forget to track my progress...

2010-03-22T13:55:00.002-06:00

How the book is going:

72822 / 110000 words. 66% done!

I'm thinking now, that it may be closer to 100,000 words rather than 110,000. If that's the case, the meter looks like this:

72822 / 100000 words. 73% done!

That feels a bit more like it. :-)

A Non-Post about Non-Material Things

2010-03-22T13:12:00.006-06:00

If you follow a shamanistic path and if you're also a bit clairvoyant, this post may not seem strange to you. If you poo-poo these things, then this post will be strange, and I'll seem stranger than ever. In a way, that's unfortunate. Nobody wants to be treated like a nut bar. Still, I wish more people would give these things some credence. All I can say is that when these symbols show up, they have significance for me.

Lynx and Porcupine have turned up for me, lately. I found their appearance surprising, as these two totems haven't shown up before. I didn't understand their significance, so I looked them up. This is what I found.

Lynx is all about secrets, receiving them and keeping them. It's seeing what others hide in terms of negative feelings towards you and others, as well as how others delude themselves about themselves. On the plus side, Lynx also sees the goodness in people and any hidden abilities and strengths they may have. So, Lynx senses the good and the bad, realizes that nobody is perfect, and there is strength in silence. It's best to keep one's observations and confidences to oneself.

Porcupine is all about self-protection. Insist that your choices and boundaries are respected no matter what others think. Do things in your own time and on your own terms, but be good-natured about it, if you can.

All of the above fits with what's been happening lately. I find it so surprising that these messages show up just before some situations present themselves. It's like getting a 'heads-up' before they happen or a confirmation of things already in progress. I should tune in more often.

Good Energy Works, Too...

2010-03-03T22:54:00.003-07:00

Since my post yesterday, I also mentioned on Facebook that I was sick. And how nice, but several people wished me well and promised me good energy sent my way. Their thoughtfulness really touched my heart.

And lo and behold, if I am not almost completely recovered today.

Let me tell you, when I get bronchial flu, it can last for weeks. I haven't coughed much today, and really, how I'm feeling now as compared to the lung-heaving yesterday is quite miraculous.

So thank you, everyone, who sent good wishes my way. You made a difference.

What goes around does come around. My turn now, to send some healing vibes to a few others who are also sick. Time to pay it forward.

Recovering...

2010-03-02T15:32:00.006-07:00

So, I have the flu or a bad cold, or something. It sucks. I finally managed to sit down at the laptop to write today. What I've written isn't stellar, but what can you do when you have to cough up a lung in the bathroom every so often? All in all, I think I'm doing quite well, considering.

E is also sick and home from school. Stomach flu - nuff said. I've lost a diamond from my wedding ring. The phones are back on, although they were defunct all weekend. And then there was that bad smell emanating from the basement, while M was out of town. It's gone now. No idea what caused it.

So, a string of bad luck. If things get worse, I'll begin to suspect someone is sending me bad vibes. If they are, it's wise to remember that what one sends, one gets back, like pigeons coming home to roost. And sometimes, those pigeons bring friends.

Fortunately, my bad luck seems to be passing.

Here's where the book sits to date:

60486 / 110000 words. 55% done!

Curmudgeon

2010-02-27T09:20:00.001-07:00

For some reason, I always assumed a curmudgeon was an ill tempered old man, but apparently the meaning is broader than that, meaning: An ill tempered person full of resentment and stubborn notions.

Yup. When it comes to how some people insist on following all writing rules as if the Almighty wrote them in gleaming gold letters for Moses to bring down from the mount, I'm a curmudgeon.

I don't like rules. I will break them if and when I choose. I especially don't like people telling me (and they always seem to tell me in a chirpy, happy way, as if they think I don't know) that I must NEVER use adverbs, or the word VERY, or passive verbs or compound verb constructions. Here's my rule: If the adverb works to describe inflection, if 'very' is necessary because it is embedded within dialogue, if the passive verb form reflects a certain nuance of dialect or passage of time, I will use any and all of these. Mind your own business.

I'm happy to see that I'm not the only tablet breaker. In 'Rules of Thumb' (yes, I know, an odd book choice for someone who is whinging about rules), Jill Christman's essay on 'The Very Rule' is a fun read. She writes: I am prone to hyperbole. I can't help myself. I have a dramatic streak. I am drawn to all things very. My sentences long to stretch themselves thin with very, but I pull them back, stout them up, reach up with the padding ring finger of my right hand, tat, tat, tat, tat on Backspace, and bring the curtain down on very's theatrics."

She even goes on to analyze how many times she used very in one of her novels, Darkroom, and why. Out of its 86,418 words, she used very 42 times.

I like this woman. I like her very much. I think she is most curmudgeonly.

38 Mistakes

2010-02-25T09:01:00.006-07:00

So much has been going on since I last posted. February has been a strange month. Lots of writing, two weeks of outlining and deciding where the book is going - as I told a friend of mine, 'I hate outlines, who needs stinking outlines?' but apparently, I do. So, the outline is in place and it's back into writing mode again with a brief hiatus over the past two days to rework a short story that I've since sent off. Today, I'm running around dropping E off at Galaxyland with her friends to celebrate her birthday, as well as take care of some errands that need doing. In the midst of all this writing, outlining and running around over the past month, I've also done a lot of reading.

I came across a really great little book in the library, "The 38 Most Common Fiction Writing Mistakes" by Jack M. Bickham. Very pithy, and it covered a number of things about writing that I already knew as well as a few things of which I had a good inkling but which the book clarified. Instead of starting from the beginning, the first thing I did was to check the Table of Contents, and the first chapter I read was called 'Don't Take It To the Club Meeting'.

One thing I've told people over the years is to join a good writing group in order to get feedback on their work. Problem is, good feedback can be pretty hard to find. Here's what the book said, and it also confirms where I now stand on most writing groups:

"Your club audience is in no way a normal audience of the kind you want to please. There are people here who have failed and are bitter. There are others here to show-off. There are others who are here for a chance to pontificate. There are know-it-alls and know-nothings. If your work is good, many of them will be jealous. If your work is bad, few, if any, of them will know how to point out your mistakes in a constructive manner.

There are not likely to be any honest critical responses to your work. Club members generally try to be as gentle and positive as family members. A few, perhaps in reaction, crucify every member. In neither case do you get anything like an objective reaction.... Join and attend meetings of a writer's club if you wish, by all means. But leave your story home."

This is pretty much where I've arrived in my thinking. Jack also goes on to say in the next chapter 'Don't Ignore Professional Advice' that "If you can find a professional who knows how to teach the craft of fiction, you should, therefore, go out of your way to work with her."

Bottom line for me? I doubt if I'll bring my work to any writing group in the future. I will socialize, but I don't need the opinions of some when I don't think they are in any position to give me professional advice. I've also asked a friend who I trust and who has earned her publishing stripes if she will look at my book once it's done. She's agreed to do this.

Interestingly, someone left a yellow post-it note inside the book with the name of a Canadian SF writer and the title of his book on it. Made me wonder if I know them. :-)

Tango Woes

2010-02-01T09:26:00.005-07:00

We have an upcoming Tango lesson this coming Wednesday. This is a good thing.

I attempted to show Mik how to Tango yesterday from what little I remembered from a dance tape.

Note to Others Who May be Tempted to Try This Insanity: DO NOT, under any circumstances, explain to a man how the Tango is a dance of domination BEFORE he understands the timing of the steps.

There's this little thing called a pause, you know. If you don't 'pause' at the right time, you look like a Sherman tank lumbering onto the dance floor, attacking your partner as well as everyone else who might be in your way. The bickering that follows is not attractive, either.

Twinkle Toes

2010-01-29T09:45:00.003-07:00

I've had so much fun dancing lately. Mik and I are taking our second level of ballroom and it's given us a whole new world to bicker about. I jest, but we are funny together. We switch between blaming each other and ourselves when we don't get the steps, but we're both stubborn enough to hang in there. When we finally get it, we high five and exclaim, "We got it! We got it!" Not sophisticated at all, but fun. I suppose eventually, we will exude nothing but charm and elegance and calm. Give us five years.

First class this term, we reviewed the waltz. I was amazed we actually remembered how to do the turns and connect them. Second class, last Wednesday night, we went over the Quick-step with a number of steps we hadn't done before, so that was the cause of some frustration and dark looks between dance partners. But we outdid ourselves on the Jive, and actually remembered the pattern. Next Wednesday night, we get our first taste of the Tango, and we're both looking forward to that.

Flamenco is also going great. Flavia's classes are challenging and aerobic. I'm also taking a Neo-classical class with her; the choreography for that has been quite the learning curve. I love flamenco, but I also find that I'm liking Neo-classical, too. Maybe I just love to dance in general. Jane starts her classes on Sunday, and I am so looking forward to getting back to those, for lots of reasons. Hopefully, I might actually get Sevillanas straightened out in my head.

It's so important to be active. I'm not much of a skier, or a climber, or a kayaker. I'm not a runner or a biker. I'm not a team sports kind of a person, at all. I do like weight training, but it's been awhile since I've seen the inside of a gym. Thank heavens for dance.

It's Magic or Something...

2010-01-21T12:40:00.003-07:00

I just finished writing a scene that I've been dreading for the past two weeks. I could see it coming, it loomed on the writing horizon. It was one of those transitional and crucial bits that needed to get done, but I wasn't sure how to write it. The trouble with transitions is that they can a). be dull, b). paint you into a corner you don't know how to get out of, or - if you go there, will take a crazy lurch where you have no idea what comes after, and/or c). be a major cause of procrastination and writer's block.

I don't need any more writer's block. I dealt with that for the past two months, and as a result, decided that I would limit who was going to see my work. I think I covered that in a previous post. No - what I really want to talk about today is magic.

The thing I absolutely love about the writing process is that no matter how much I dread doing something, no matter how much I convince myself that something is going to be hard to do, the minute I actually put my butt in the chair and write that first sentence, the writing doesn't stall. It flows. It's like I've already written the hard bit in my head, but my conscious mind doesn't know it. Today was exactly like that. Many days are. I sit down. I write. I'm amazed at how easy it is.

What the hell?

So why do I continually think I can't do this? Why do I stall, only to find that it's going well? All I can say is thank heavens for having enough faith in myself to show up at the jobsite. Once I'm there, I'm usually fine.

It's magic. It really is. Or I'm channeling some kindly writer souls who have noticed me and have taken pity on me in my misery. Or it's my subconscious working overtime while my mind frets. All I know is that I'm thankful it happens.

1600 words of tight, active prose today in three and a half hours. Not as prolific as some, but for me, butter.

Plodding/Plotting

2010-01-12T08:54:00.004-07:00

I don't usually procrastinate. As you read this, I am procrastinating.

Not for too long, though.

This morning, I have to plot. I have to figure out what the hell I am doing with this book, because it's a rewrite and although it ends up in the same place by the end, I've finally finished with all the edits of what I've already written and I need to come up with some new plot twists. These must involve:

a). bringing my protagonist and the other main characters of my two sub-plots together, and
b). throwing in some kind of nasty physical and possibly supernatural threat, caused by my antagonist

And I have to do these things in such a way that they don't look contrived.

Sometimes, I think the hardest part of writing is the non-writing part of it. I think I'll brew some coffee and spend the rest of the morning thinking.

Walkies

2010-01-11T13:38:00.003-07:00

Today is one of those days when I feel like spring is on the way. I know it's only mid-January, but it's WARM outside for Edmonton. I love how the warmer weather makes me feel. It's as if I'm coming out of hibernation and anything is possible.

I finished the edits this morning. I don't think I'll look at the outline until tomorrow. For the rest of the day, I'm going to dance, walk the dogs, maybe practice some Spanish. I have a ton of things to put away - the Christmas tree and decorations are still up, and I need to perform a dig beneath my bed and get rid of all the old (mostly flamenco) fabric I've stashed under there over the past few years. The dogs stink and need baths. I don't, but a shower would be nice. All of those things can wait.

The birds are chirping. I heard a crow caw overhead. The hounds and I shall go for a walk.

Purge

2010-01-08T14:22:00.007-07:00

To get back into writing my novel, I started the week with reading over what I'd done with Part Two. Unable to contain myself, I started to edit. I wasn't going to do it, but since I can't leave things well enough alone, I ended up purging - a lot. This is my process, apparently. It's amazing what stands out after you've been away from the work for a month and a half.

I'm wordy. Not only that, a lot of the sections fell into exposition which I know better than to do. Much of this was my protagonist musing about her situation or her past. Those parts are gone. I'm thankful that I caught them and a little surprised that I wrote them in the first place. Hopefully, I'll be ready to start with the new prose next week. Instead of pruning, I'll be bush-whacking new territory.

Here are the numbers to date: 23% pruned out of Part Two. According to the NaNoWrMo bar chart, I'm:

41864 / 110000 words. 38% done!

So, I'm down 7%, assuming I stick to my target of 110,000 words. I'm not even sure about that, anymore. It could be more. I'll have a better idea in a few months time.

Slow Progress

2010-01-06T13:00:00.002-07:00

One step forward, two steps back. I've lost ground, but the prose is tighter. I cut 2800 words in the last three days and lost 2% of the total. So it goes. It doesn't matter. I'm having fun. :-)

44644 / 110000 words. 41% done!

Back at it...

2010-01-06T08:50:00.004-07:00

After taking about a month and a half off from writing the book, I'm back at it. A number of things led to this hiatus, one of which was Christmas and the hubbub around the holiday season. Now that that's over, it's time to get back to work.

So why am I wasting time this morning on my blog?

After I finish here - it's back to the book, but I just wanted to say a few things that have been going on with me lately that relate to my writing. To get back into the head space, I spent the last two days editing, which turned out to be cutting a lot of exposition which never seems to stand out until I've been away from the work for at least a month. As well, the book is sufficiently different from the first version, so I need to sit down and outline, get a clear sense of where it's going, especially in the middle part. But before I get to that, I want to write this post.

Last year was difficult emotionally. As a result, one of my new years resolutions is to limit the negatives I allow in my life, and particularly those that deal with my writing. This means that I'm limiting who sees the book and who I ask for critique. I can deal with (and want) constructive criticism. But some of the criticisms I received were made by people who didn't think about what they are saying or how they said it. Some of them also stemmed, I suspect, from hidden animosity, frustration or competition. So, since I can't seem to rid myself of my thin skin, and as much as I tell myself to remember the positive things said rather than focusing on the negatives, I intend to limit who sees my work and who critiques it.

So - limiting the negatives. This also means I limit any negativity on my part. There was a lot of that last year. I've finally come to see that not everyone thinks the way I do or acts how I would act. Some will take the easy way out. Others will benefit. Their choice. That's up to them.

I think we attract the kind of energy we put out. So, I intend to be much more positive this year. This means I focus on the moment rather than on the upsets of the past or my wishes for the future. I intend to enjoy my 'present' as much as I can, which also means I need to get back to what I love.

Writing calls.

Post Christmas

2009-12-28T10:03:00.004-07:00

Well, Christmas has come and gone. It was busy and fun. Today, I find myself at home with E for the first day over the holiday season with nothing to do or accomplish. I love Christmas and family (even with the odd upsets that inevitably occur), but I have to admit, it's nice to finally have some time to myself.

One of the best gifts I received this year was a book entitled 'How to Rule the World From Your Couch', written by Laura Day and given to me by my sister, Sharon. I've written about some strange stuff before on my blog, but many times I hold back for fear of being seen as some kind of weird, flaky woman, especially since I also use the blog to talk about my writing and editing. I've considered starting a new blog so I might feel freer to share my thoughts along esoteric lines, but that won't be happening today.

Anyway, about the book. Let me clarify - it's not about being a power crazed megalomaniac as the title might suggest, but it is a book that really hits home for me, because many of Laura's ideas and suggestions are things that I already do. I just didn't have the terms for them. It's nice to find another person who validates you, especially when you're surrounded by hard-nosed skeptics. If you're in any way psychic or have had some interesting experiences along those lines, you'll know what I mean. There is no way to prove to another the validity of your experiences, but I often find things play out in such a way that confirm those insights for me.

I do digress. Anyway - the book. I'm about half way through. To give you an idea of the contents, these are some of the topics Laura covers: insight, mediumship (not what I thought it was), telepathy, body heat telepathy, remote viewing, precognition, and healing. Reading this book has been a confirming and uplifting experience for me. One thing that has really struck me so far (and it will be my new mantra for the coming year) is this: No New Damage. I intend to stop those people who project their negativity my way in their psychic tracks. I'm not wearing their hand-me-downs. We're all psychic sponges. I don't have time for that baggage anymore.

On the plus side, this book also tells you how to project your best self and how to go after what you want with confidence and integrity.

Please and thank you. I'll take a double dose of that.

As the Song Goes...

2009-12-01T08:34:00.007-07:00

"Make someone happy. Make just one someone happy, and you'll be happy, too."

I'm about to make someone happy. And like the song goes, it's a great a morning, because I'm about to send a writer an e-mail, offering to buy the story that he's revised, not once for us, but twice. As the cliche goes, three times is the charm.

Usually, Diane, our Managing Editor for On Spec sends out the offers to buy. This time, I get to do it. And I can't tell you how excited I am, because this story has been a bit of a process - not the writer's fault, but due to the differences in tastes and temperaments at On Spec. And no, before anybody thinks I'm about to air dirty laundry here, I'm not, except maybe to air my own.

I think one of the reasons On Spec works so well is because each editor brings different things to the editorial process. With this particular story, I was tempted to write it off because it had what I thought were glaring errors. It was a good story, had some promise, but I tend to dismiss less than perfect stories. Diane loved the story from the beginning, as did Barb and Ann. (And forgive me, guys, if I'm getting the details wrong). Because they thought the story was good, I took my objections and worked directly with the writer. He took my suggestions and made the fixes.

After the second revision, Barb suggested a final fix, where two scenes were switched, the stronger one with the character who was introduced in the beginning to wrap up the end. Once again, the writer accommodated us. I have no idea what he was thinking, but I suspect he hoped his willingness to work with us would earn him a sale. I also really hope that he thinks his work is better now, is tighter than ever and has greater impact, because it does.

I get excited when I read a really, good story. I get even more excited when I know I've been part of that birthing process. We don't spend a lot of time doing that at On Spec - working one-on-one with a writer with whom we haven't already promised a sale. But thanks to Diane, Barb, and Ann, they wanted this story, and I wanted it better than it was. They saw the potential. I saw the flaws. Sometimes, to bring a really great piece to life, you need editors who do both.

So now, I get to tell the writer we're going to buy his story. Diane suggested I be the one to to do it. I get to make his day.

What a great way to start mine.

300th Post

2009-11-17T17:29:00.002-07:00

Couple of things on my mind. First of all, the count:

45765 / 110000 words. 42% done!

Secondly, I've been reading friends' work, in particular "Women of the Apocalypse" by Eileen Bell, Roxanne Felix, Billie Millholland, and Ryan T. McFadden (who I've never met except for today over FB and as a six foot stand-up launch poster, and may I say, he shows quite well :-). I am pleased to say that I've been enjoying the book, so here's a plug for it - it's a fun anthology of four novellas based on the four archangels, the four horsemen of the Apocalypse, and four plucky women who save the world. Good work guys! I'm part-way through Ryan's piece on 'Death' but I'm enjoying it so far, and I'm sure he will deliver. I also want to add that these four people are doing their damnedest to distribute this book on their own, so buy a copy. I'll withhold my comments on what I think a publisher should do and should not do for his writers - if you know me well enough, you'll know my stand on this, but I'm not here to carp. Instead, BUY A COPY!

Finally, FB has been making me grumpy lately, mostly because I've been working my tuckus (sp?) off, and it's annoying to see so many happy people doing so well. But I had a good day of writing, so I'm not going to complain too much. They all deserve their success for all of their hard work, and hopefully, my day will come around, once again, too. Wish novels didn't take so damn long to write and then rewrite. So it goes.

So, all in all, a good day. Happy 300th post, Suzenyms. Yay, me.

If You're a Writer, It's Not Really About You

2009-11-12T17:05:00.004-07:00

I've been busy reading manuscripts, and I thought I'd share a little something that occurred to me awhile back. If you're a writer, it's not about you.

What do I mean? Simply this - the reader is your customer. If you want to sell your work, you're there to either entertain or to affect. If you're not doing that, you're not doing your job.

Yes, it's a joy to write. Yes, we can only write what is in us and what we see as our truth, but if we don't entertain or move our audience, we've forgotten them.

I think it's so important that we know why we're telling a particular story. If the answer is 'well, I thought it was a cool idea and I wanted to explore it,' or 'I feel strongly about such and so,' that's fine, just so long as you also tell a story that engages or touches. But notice - the 'I' in both of those reasons. Those excuses are focused on the writer and not on whom the writer hopes to reach.

So, why are you telling your story? Will it entertain or affect your readers in a good way? And 'good' is relative, depending on the type of story you're telling. As an editor, I read stories all the time that affect me, but not necessarily in a way that I like.

So strive to entertain or affect. If your story is amusing, funny, or a nice diversion to my everyday life, great. If it touches me, involves me, makes me sympathetic, thrills me, uplifts me, or makes me think, that's fantastic. The world needs stories like that. Let your story be one of those.

Borrowed from NaNoWriMo

2009-11-12T16:33:00.004-07:00

Hi. I borrowed this neat little grid from the NaNoWriMo site, just so I can keep track of my progress.

Here's where I stand to date:

40663 / 110000 words. 37% done!

I took a couple of days off this week for various reasons - mostly because I had to think about the plot in Part Three and the family was off yesterday due to Remembrance Day, and E is out of school today due to Teachers' Convention. So, I'm behind in my weekly quota and have to make up 2,700 words tomorrow. I guess the grid will show how I do.

Have slush to read from the On Spec slush pile, as well as some manuscripts to crit from the Cult of Pain. I'll likely start on those tonight.

Remembrance Day

2009-11-11T11:02:00.006-07:00

Today is my mother's birthday. I find I have to remember that, because it's sometimes easy to forget when I think about Canada's current involvement in Afghanistan, as well as all those lives lost in past wars. Being a Wednesday, we already celebrated her birthday last Sunday night, took her out for dinner, and gave her a nice prezzie. I must remember to call her today.

But that's not really what I want to write about. People are pretty divided here about Canada's involvement in Afghanistan. Some are very vocal about it, saying we need to pull out, we have no business war-mongering, there is no solution, our troops are being killed. I think others, like myself, tend to stay quiet because we support Canada's presence there. I suppose now, I've painted myself as some kind of a war hawk, but I can't help but remember the innocents - women and children - who were rounded up by the Taliban and shot in soccer fields because they weren't willing to be repressed or because they simply forgot to cover up an elbow. I can't forget the Afghan women who died slow suicides when the Taliban were in power, because they were abandoned and too depressed to feed themselves. Right now, they can't find enough teachers to teach in some areas of Afghanistan, for fear of the school becoming a target and children being blown up. Imagine, for a moment, if we had to worry about sending our kids to school, because some terrorist group considered them a viable target.

This is what our troops are fighting. So, I guess for me the question is - are we willing to turn our backs on what is so obviously wrong, because it means the sacrifice of some of our own? If we pull out, what does that say to the Canadian families who have already lost their sons and daughters to a road-side bomb or a Taliban bullet? Did their deaths not count? And once Canada has pulled out, are we so naive as to believe that one small part of the world may fester, but we won't be affected by it? Don't you believe it. These things don't stay put. Look at what's already happening in Pakistan.

Our grandfathers didn't leave because their involvement cost them too much. They stayed and fought. Many of them paid with their lives. Let's remember that.

Wrapped Part Two

2009-11-09T13:35:00.003-07:00

I've been clocking my progress. The book is sitting at 39,676 words, and I'm fairly happy with it. So, here it is, November 9th and I started rewriting on September 2nd. Not too bad, not too unexpected considering; I had hoped for approximately 20,000 words a month (or 5,000 words a week) and I'm pretty much there. Some days are more prolific than others. I hope to get as much as I can completed in November (NaNoWriMo notwithstanding), because I know December will be a wash; I'll likely only write for half the month because of the holidays.

Anyway, at this rate, I hope the first draft will be done by the end of March. I have pirated sections of the old book for the new, but actually, not as much as I thought. There will be a bit more of that with the middle and the end.

The big differences between the last version and this one involve the characters (they are darker), they have stronger motivations, the beginnings are new, and finally, - the reason I really had to start fresh with this book - the points of view. I've really limited the latter. I think the tone is much more consistent.

So, this has been a good exercise. It's like the old adage, if at first you don't succeed, rewrite.

Someone once said, "I don't think you can revise too often." Oh wait. That was me. :-)

I am SO Checking the Weather Next Time

2009-10-14T22:39:00.003-06:00

So after the whinging of my last post, I sat down yesterday and wrote 2,400 words, no sweat, and was done by 2:00 p.m. Today, I tweaked and added 50 words only because the day was jumbled - E had a doctor's appointment this morning at 8:30 and I had to drive her to school, I stopped in to see D and drop off a grant cheque, then I popped into the bird store to pick up peanuts for the blue jays because they were all out, but mostly, what took up the time was the weather, which was the PITS, so it took three times as long to get anywhere - I finally got home around 11:00 a.m. Then I tweaked the new stuff for about an hour before I had to take the car in to the dealer - it's been bleeding green blood (coolant). No problem - the block heater just needed replacing and it's under warranty. After that, I waited for and picked up a prescription for E from Shoppers Drug Mart, and finally got home again around 3:00.

Next time? I am SO checking the weather before I schedule errands that aren't supposed to take any time at all.

Pulling Teeth, Pulling Words

2009-10-13T08:03:00.003-06:00

I'm 1000 words into Part Two, and I seem to be going through a rough patch where writing feels like I'm having to fight with myself to get the words right. I think there are probably a few reasons for this - mostly because I am working on a major revision where the plot is similar at the key points, but so much of the book is not. I know the Part One revision is better than the old version (IMHO, but yes, it is), but that was harder to rewrite, too. Everything is up for change, and it could change from what I've already planned. I think once the sub-plots mesh, I am also rethinking if they stay the same as they were in the old book, or if they become entirely different, and I have no idea what that might be which is daunting. I suspect part of the trouble is me second-guessing myself - does this work? does it feel forced? is the quality up to par? Will all of this effort make the book so much better? And - fear of fears, am I the only one who is going to appreciate what I've done, once it's finished? I do get a lot of joy out of writing, but eventually I hope it'll be appreciated by others. So in the meantime, it's work, work, work.

This is such a crazy business, such an insane way to live a life. There are no guarantees of success, although success is also relative. It depends on just how high you raise the bar, and I've set my own sights fairly high.

Writing is really tough on people emotionally. If you succeed, you win and everybody applauds you (except perhaps, for other writers who have yet to succeed themselves, and I point that out very tongue-in-cheek. I think we all suffer from publishing envy, now and then, some of us more than others). When you lose - fail to publish - you not only beat yourself up but others (usually non-writers) tend to patronize that you've wasted your time. No wonder writers can turn so bitter. Humility is a much tougher route to choose.

So, being neither particularly humble, nor yet too bitter, I'm just going to ignore all of that and write.

Off to wrestle with Part Two.

Baggage Claim

2009-10-12T09:23:00.002-06:00

I woke up this morning, going over a lot of things that have happened in the past year. It was worthwhile, I think, because I finally came to the conclusion that there comes a point when one's baggage becomes one's history. I felt like I woke up to that this morning - almost as if the thought snicked something into place.

I hold grudges. I really wish I didn't. I find my anger lifts its head at the most unexpected times, and when it does, it bothers me that I'm still bothered. I even have a visual for it - my baggage looks like a ratty blanket that's been torn to shreds and has old tin cans, dirt, and dead weeds attached to it. As I walk, I leave a trail. I don't like it at all, and wish it would just disintegrate.

Anyway, this morning, I realized that the past isn't meant to be wiped clean. You can't undo the nasties that have been done to you. You can, however, realize that they are a part of your history, and that's the best place for them.

Slow Week

2009-10-09T10:27:00.003-06:00

It's been a slow week, writing-wise. Part of the trouble stemmed from a PD day on Tuesday and E home with me, and me deciding that since she was home and needed a winter coat, it would be a good day to go shop for one for her. Today, the furnace guy showed up to check the furnace and Mike has the day off before he leaves to visit his mother in Nanoose Bay for Thanksgiving. I'd go, but Tessa needs someone to take care of her, and with the kids so busy, it's better if I stay here. Yesterday, I helped a friend sew costumes for the upcoming launch of her book which is happening next weekend at the Strathcona Library. So, instead of five days of uninterrupted writing time, I've had two.

Despite the lack of time, I still managed to write and tweak a new 4,000 word short story. I also set down 1000 words into Part Two of the novel.

I'm starting to feel like I'm straining at the bit. I am SO looking forward to next week.

Part One - Done

2009-09-28T22:06:00.003-06:00

I finished Part One today at just over 18,000 words. I will likely start Part Two tomorrow. I need to check my notes, but I can remember pretty much how it goes. Tomorrow, we switch to the second major character and love interest, and we'll tell his story for a few chapters before the two threads connect. He's pretty cool and a bit darker this second time around. A definite loner with an agenda.

I've removed so many characters in this new version. Hopefully, the POV's are simpler (they're certainly fewer) and more straightforward, and the plot more focused. I think so.

I am tempted, however, to take a small break and work on a short story I have in mind - a writing exercise really, that I suggested to the Cult members to try. It involves taking the old cliche "It was a dark and stormy night..." and digressing from there into a fresh take. Part of the fun is to meet the challenge and try to come up with something novel. I think I have a twist on it already, but I haven't quite worked out the end, except for heading in an obvious direction which I don't want, so I need a bit more thought on it. I'm quite pleased with the results of the last short story I wrote for the Cult. I think it's one of the best pieces of short fiction I've ever written. I also received some very nice compliments on it from the group.

Maybe I'll start the short story tonight and leave tomorrow for the novel.

Quota

2009-09-25T13:50:00.003-06:00

So, it's been three and a half weeks since I began rewriting, and I have managed to make my quota of a minimum of 5,000 words per week, Monday to Friday. Currently, the count is at 16,700 words. I'm hoping to finish Part One by next Tuesday or Wednesday, which should bring the count to 20,000 words. This is a moderate goal, considering how some writers write - I'm in awe of Ed Willett who is at the moment on a self-imposed writing retreat at the Banff Centre and is churning out nearly 10,000 words a day. I'm aiming for 100,000 words or so, total, so I should have the first draft of this revision completed by January or February. Christmas usually cuts into my writing time, so it will likely be later rather than sooner. Basically, I'm writing a new book, although some of the plot elements are the same. I've made some major changes - quite a few characters have been cut. It's all good.

I don't tend to write without editing. I can't break myself of that habit, so I don't bother. Instead, I usually look over what I wrote the day before and tweak it. It gets me into the head space. I also find that I think a lot about the book when I'm not writing. Things are often very clear in the morning when I wake up. The shower also seems to be a great place for inspiration. It's a strange life when you're in the middle of it - it feels like you spend more time with the self-created reality in your head. I think that's why I like stopping for the day and doing mundane chores like cutting the lawn or washing dishes. You have to have balance. You need to come down from the clouds and land.

Tomorrow night, I'll read about 3,000 words of the opening for my writing group, The Cult of Pain. After that, they'll get copies of subsequent chunks for critique and feedback. I always find the feedback interesting. It's always surprising what people comment on.

I suspect the blog will be about how it's going over the next little while. I'll keep you posted.

I Can't Believe it's butter... er, better

2009-09-09T08:23:00.004-06:00

Well, the girl's rewritten the opening to her book, and what was nagging me ever so slightly last time, is gone. The opening is completely different, and it's better. I started rewriting last week, and I'm very pleased with how it's going.

I had niggling issues with my protagonist last time (which I largely ignored because I was under the gun to get the book finished). Namely, the biggest problem was that things tended to happen 'around' her, without much instigation on her part. This wasn't entirely the case throughout the book, but the new opening establishes her as a strong character right away. Yes, things happen, but she also meets them head on, whereas in the last version, she really didn't. I'm also working with pacing and have learned a few things since finishing the old draft mostly, lulls are as important as action. I think I knew that before and wrote that way subconsciously, but in places, I think I also tended to rush. No rushing, now, although that continues to be tempting - the last thing you want to do is bore your reader. Still, I think events will play out as they are meant, and if that means the lulls are a bit lengthier, then so be it.

It ain't like writing a short story, I can tell you. Because of the length, the learning curve takes a little longer.

Previous Post Deleted...

2009-09-02T06:57:00.003-06:00

I turned on the delete machine and removed my last post. For those of you who didn't catch it, it was a mini-rail against the choices that some people make, but I've decided that perhaps the best thing to do is to keep my opinions to myself. People will do what they do, and I don't need to deflate egos - that's bound to occur on its own. I will say, however, that some out there aren't garnering themselves any respect from this quarter.

'Nuff said.

Love the New Car...

2009-07-23T10:57:00.006-06:00

I was driving the 'Beech' yesterday, taking E to her fencing class. Hot sunny day, the windows and sun roof were open, I was wearing my sun glasses. A 3/4 ton truck passes me going the other way as I approach the turn off from 99th Street onto the Whitemud. Some guy, who I didn't see, yells, "I love you!"

Now, I'm mphymphy mphph years, and he has no idea of this because the glasses hide the wrinkles and I'm hunched down into the driver's seat. So, I figure it's gotta be the car. I'd just washed it, and it was all shiny and pretty and orange, much like the photo here, except for the blue/glowy background which wasn't. So, a perfect stranger out there loves me. It made me laugh, as well as my day. :-)

It's Been Awhile...

2009-07-21T12:48:00.008-06:00

It's been awhile. Facebook is my excuse, as it seems to satisfy a need I have to socialize without having to make the effort to pick up the phone or drive anywhere for coffee in my car. Sad excuse, but that's it. I'm a bit of a hermit, and FB indulges the little bit of socializing I like to do.

Unfortunately, Facebook is also starting to bug me lately, so here I am, blogging once again. I admit, I've been guilty of taking the odd quiz and posting the results for all and sundry to read on FB, but I've been doing that less and less. Today, all that seems to be on the posts is so and so posting about which fairytale character they'd be, what color aura they have, if they're madly in love (or not), what it means if they scratch their butt, etc. etc. I'm getting kind of sick of the inanity, not to mention the self involvement. I suppose I could block some of these posts, but I like most of these people, so I really don't want to. And then there's the post that, for some reason, posts itself two or three times, as if I didn't quite read it right the first time. Like I said, I like to know what people are up to, but enough is enough. Is enough.

FB also makes me feel a bit guilty. A woman I know approached me and wanted to be added as a friend. I haven't responded to her, because I know if I do, I'll be bombarded by her self promos for her mostly self-published books. Another sent me a request today to join an sf Edmonton based group, because she noticed that I was an 'sf fan' in my profile. I'd like to think of myself as more than just a fan, considering that I'm an editor for On Spec magazine and a published writer in my own right. Calling me an 'sf fan' hit me right in the old ego. So, yes, I'm a bad person and a snob to boot.

What else is new? I've finished two new short stories, and am doing research for a third - not sure if the premise I have in mind is yet workable into a short story. I'm rethinking my novel and plan to start rewriting it once the summer is over and the family are into their regular work/school-day schedules. More slush is waiting from the slush pile, and I'll be looking at manuscripts next week. I have a charitable event coming up with Flamenco for Life, and a week-long workshop with Ramon Martinez starting on July 27th. E is in fencing lessons and taking a feature film workshop, and I'll be driving her back and forth from that.

I guess with all that going on, I won't have much time for Facebook.

Crusty

2009-06-09T08:00:00.005-06:00

I think I'm getting crusty with age. I just don't put up with much anymore.

I think this is a good thing. Toasty on the inside but crusty on the out, if people deserve it. Lately, I seem to be running into folks who opt for passive aggressiveness, rather than deal with what I suspect are their larger issues. When that passive aggressiveness comes my way, I find I question the comment (it's usually a comment). And some folks, who already have their anger on a low simmer, react to the simplest things. There's a lot of them out there.

Closer to home, I seem to be changing, too. I no longer ask for permission. I just 'do'. Not sure this is such a good thing, but I suspect it's a necessary thing. I guess I figure that if there's going to be contention, I'd rather it be over something I 'did' rather than something I asked or wanted to do.

So yeah. Not pleased with how some people act, or react, to me or to others. At my age, I should be developing a thicker skin. Seems it's turning crusty.

I Need a Holiday from Me

2009-06-04T07:46:00.002-06:00

I am feeling so unmotivated this morning. I suspect it's because I've been working hard on dance lately, and I'm just plain tired. On Tuesday, I practiced an hour on my own, and then had a class/rehearsal that went from 5:30 p.m. to nearly 9:00, with little in the way of a break. Since I'm dancing in five different numbers, we rehearsed them one after the other. My feet were mush by the time I got home.

The show is on Sunday, June 14th at the Timms Theatre (University of Alberta). I was stressing earlier, worried that I'd really botch things, but I'm not so worried about that any longer. I'm hopeful that it will go well, and yes, I intend to practice for an hour or so, today - particularly the tricky bits that still aren't smooth. I also have another rehearsal tomorrow night.

So, all the dance practice, along with all of the gardening I've been doing (spring is such a busy time if you want to stay ahead of the weeds), plus dealing with how I might rewrite my book (sans a couple of POV's and with Author Voice in mind), I'm going to take a vacation from myself once the show is over. I need to get away for a little while, from all the demands I lay on myself. I'm looking forward to the down time.

On another note, I met with an old school friend yesterday for coffee. I've known G since we were in junior high, and I hadn't seen him in years. His wife just passed away after a hard battle from brain cancer. G is heading out for an extended trip through the States - he has no plans about where he's going to stay. It's his form of down time. God bless you, G. May you find your journey a healing one.

The Farm

2009-05-25T08:23:00.004-06:00

I think my love for the land started way back. When I was in Grade Two, we moved into a neighborhood that was on the outskirts of the city. My friends and I would make regular forays into the woods and ravines and fields; our parents never worried if we were gone for hours. In those days, kids were shoved outside by 8:00 a.m. and if they came home for lunch, life was good. After lunch it was outside to play and roam some more, until supper.

I had a friend, Hilda, who lived on a farm which was probably a mile or so from our school. My best friend Brenda and I would hike over lumps of plowed field, swat at the droves of mosquitoes hounding us, to leave behind our sidewalk existence of stick trees and basement excavations for birdsong, spruce windbreaks and cows lowing in the barn. The farm had a rich, voluptuous life to it. Walking into it, we felt as if we had discovered a new world.

I realize now, that every locale has its own energy, and what I was responding to was the vibrant life of the place. To me, the farm was heaven, and even now, what brings me much joy is being outside when the sun is shining, the trees are green and plants are growing in the garden. Right now, there are mayday, flowering plum, and apple trees blooming all around my backyard, and their fragrance reminds me why I love this time of the year so much. Spring is precious when it finally buds.

Content Warning - Rampant Sentimentality

2009-05-15T08:31:00.008-06:00

This post will be a strange one. I may not even post it - we'll see.

I was up late last night and watching, of all the vapid things, Paradise Island. I was also sipping a finger of scotch at the time and nearly sat down to write this post, but decided against it, always better not to drink and post. Anyway, I still think I want to write about the thoughts that passed through my head last night. It wasn't the first time I've thought them, and I wonder if other people feel the same way I do. Maybe so, maybe not.

To my way of thinking, watching Paradise Island is a form of luke-warm voyeurism and a bit silly. If you haven't seen the show, couples (who apparently haven't met before) are paired up and become roomies, platonic or otherwise, at a tropical resort. The show is sort of like Survivor, people get together and they're voted off - at least I think this is what happens. I've never watched an entire series, and really, I'm sure that if I watched more than two episodes back to back, I'd find the whole show cloying. (Sorry to those of you out there who like it).

Anyway, this post really isn't about Paradise Island.

I think, given enough time to get to know someone, I could probably love anyone platonically, barring that they are not a homicidal maniac or toxic in some other serious way. I wonder if most of us are like this. I know I'm also an extremely judgmental person, but also thankfully, a forgiving one, especially if whomever has affronted me (whether they know it or otherwise) does something warm or endearing (whether they also know it or otherwise). Which makes me think that if most people are like this, then most of us are wired to love.

I hope that's true. So, if you're reading this and I know you, I probably do love you on some level. And further, I think that that small expression of love is a reflection of my greater appreciation that we exist as individuals in a universe so huge and diverse that it's beyond imagining. It's easy to miss the big in staying focused on the small.

So, all that said, it's kind of amazing (and ironic) how watching Paradise Island can make one think such thoughts, don't you think?

Single-minded but Multi-tasked...

2009-05-04T08:18:00.003-06:00

I really wish May would settle down. Really, now that winter is over, and the writing grief is over, and the dog has sort of stabilized (and I have stabilized), and B has been moved to Vancouver, all I'd really like to do is sit down and start re-writing the novel. But I can't. Like everyone else, I have other things that demand attention and break up my day - things like vet appointments for the dog and dental and orthodontic appointments for E. As well, there's a whole yard to weed and dig for planting, and carpets to clean (and no - I can no longer put that off - when the dog was having a bad time, she messed the rug in a few places, and I haven't been able to completely remove the stains). Plus there's the flamenco show coming up in mid-June - not only do I have to practice, but I have to sew myself a new dress. I feel like I'm being pulled in every other direction than the one I want to head in. So all I can do is practice patience, and eventually, everything will be taken care of, everything will get done.

I don't know. Having to take care of all of the above makes me want to sit down and get back to the writing more than ever. So, I suppose, this multi-tasking is a good thing.

New Start

2009-04-20T17:58:00.002-06:00

I've been tempted not to write about my book and how things are going because of the worst reason possible - mostly because I think there are people out there who may be happy with my lack of progress and success. And yes, that's a terrible thing to say about anyone and may reflect more on me than on them, yet, I do want to write about the book because I've decided I need to rewrite the whole damn thing. This decision came about due to some excellent critique I received from someone in the know, and I trust her judgment.

So - two things I need to reconsider about my book, and they are so huge that a quick fix of a scene here and there won't do it: Author Voice and Multiple Points of View. Because of the multiple POV's, (of which I had too many and need to limit) my voice became distorted. Like a good undercoat of paint, I need to decide the slant of the book, and all the POV's need to reflect this, no matter what is going on in any particular scene - at least, I HOPE this is what will give the piece more consistency. The good thing is, I was also complimented on my ability to write and the success with which I told the original story, so that said, it's good to know I can probably do this.

But so bloody much to do. It took me over a year to write the original, and that was with four drafts. I have no idea how long it will take me to revise it.

Anyway, I started back at it, today. Not writing yet, just rethinking how I tell this story and limiting who tells it. I can already see how this work is going to be grittier, hopefully, closer to the the truth of how things were back in the 1500's in Spain. My original version was a romantic view of life back then, even with the Inquisition present. This new version is darker, the sense of the shortness of life more immediate (I hope), which is partly what fuels the Church in its insistence of its own correctness and the justifiable repression of the masses. Throw in the schizophrenia that results from power out of control, along with the desire of the individual to live and love as they wish, and beneath all of that, the world of spirit which is subtle, omnipresent, and lifts us from our hell or plunges us more deeply into it.

I expect to be thinking about it all week. Maybe next. The writing will start when I'm sure about where, in detail, it's going.

On The Other Hand...

2009-04-19T22:22:00.004-06:00

That last post was a bit of a downer. So, in juxtaposition, I also want to write about other female friends who have been wonderful lately, who have come through, who have surprised me with their unexpected generosity, warmth, and support. It's so easy to focus on our disappointments - easy for me, anyway. It's important to remember the great things that have happened. So yeah, yesterday was all about the disappointments and expectations not met. Today, it's about expectations surpassed, probably because there were no expectations in the first place.

I was recently given two amazingly beautiful bracelets, hand-crafted with amethyst and glass beads by a friend who took it on herself to gift five of her friends who were willing to play the gift forward. G's generosity blew me away. She's one of the most non-judgmental people I know, and I love her for that. It's so nice to be with someone who is happy to get together for no other reason than to get together. We enjoy each other's company. There are no hidden agendas, no sense of competition that seems to be an underlying element in many relationships that occur between women. G is such a relief to be with.

Other women who have been wonderful lately include J, who gave me support when I recently needed it by telling me she kept thinking about my book (which will soon be undergoing a major rewrite), E, who has been so patient with my lack of technical ability with our cante group, and D who continues to be my partner in crime at On Spec. D, in particular, has endured some of my own more unpleasant tendencies when it comes to critiquing work, and I appreciate her tolerance and friendship. Finally, there is B, who has been my dear friend since we were both three years old - how on earth, can I forget a friendship like that? She is more a sister than a friend. And finally, there is my sister, S, who feels like my other half. I have been truly blessed to have her as my closest friend.

Yesterday, the cup was half empty. It's so easy to forget that I am lucky to have the friends I do. So much depends on how you look at things, and it's easy to take the good for granted. My cup is very full.

Coming Up After What Seems a Long Time Under

2009-04-18T19:28:00.002-06:00

It's been a long time since I posted. I hope to remedy that. Suffice it to say, I feel like I'm emerging from the tail end of a storm; lots of life turbulence has been tossing me around - I've been sick with the flu, my dog has been seriously ill, my first-born has left the nest (which is a good thing, but also bitter sweet), and I've had a few other setbacks that have made me change my plans somewhat. Still, I'm here, surviving, getting back onto my feet. All this turbulence has made me wiser and a little harder, I admit. My expectations of people haven't changed, although I suspect I'm quicker to see the flaws that we all have, including those I have in myself.

Expectations are such a bitch.

One of my biggest problems is that I have had a tendency, almost consistently over the past thirty years, to paint my friends in florid colors of wonderfulness, empathy, and generosity, only to have found that we all have our flaws and we are all not so wonderful to each other at times. I wish my opinions of my friends never changed, that I would never have reason to see them in any other way than their best. It's upsetting to realize that a bland comment about what I do or don't do might actually be a thinly disguised snipe that stems from envy, or that a question asked is not asked out of interest or concern but simply because the questioner wants to talk about her own experiences. It's off putting to find that the praise someone gives you is something she tells everyone. Most upsetting of all is to learn that someone you considered as one of your best friends has resented you for some time; the worst part is you didn't see it because you craved her friendship - she was special. Suddenly, you realize that your own neediness has made you a fool.

Like I said, those expectations are a bitch. I know I sound like I'm crying a river. Frankly, I don't care. I'm a little wiser and a little harder.

So - having come out of the emotional storm I have with the flu, the dog, my son leaving home, and the loss of friends or the clearer seeing of others, I feel like I've become thinner, hungrier, less trusting, more keen. I feel like my knives are out and honed. Not that I'm about to carve anyone up any time soon, but I will cut my own delusions about others and myself. I will also go after what I want, more determined than ever.

It's funny. When I was in stand-up comedy, I remember a number of female comics I met backstage - they always had a defensiveness about them, a caginess I used to wonder about - why were they so distrusting, so cautious, so sharp, especially with other women?

I think maybe now, I know.

A Flamenco Night with my Mother

2009-02-09T07:47:00.003-07:00

I ended up going to Noche Flamenca last night at the Winspear, very last minute with my mother. It was a wonderful show, and we both enjoyed it. But as much as I love my mother, she doesn't really 'get' flamenco, and we ended up sitting next to a couple of other seniors who didn't really 'get' it, either. I knew we were off to a good start when I glanced over at my mother during the first half of the show and found her staring at the singer on the stage and then down at her thumb. To understand flamenco cante, you need to know that it's very emotional, and the singer often uses his hands to express great pain, grief, longing, or whatever. It wasn't long before my mother leaned over and asked me, "Has he got something on his thumb? To which I replied, 'No," in that hushed sort of tone that usually tells the questioner not to ask dumb questions and embarrass the people they are sitting with. "Are you sure?" she asked. "It looks like he has a microphone attached to the end of his thumb." To which I repeated, "No," a second time, and she responded, "Well, he must have very long thumbs, then."

Intermission brought its delights. My mother explained to the seniors sitting next to us that she had probably embarrassed me, asking about the thumb, and then one woman said she didn't think the singing was singing, but moaning. To which my mother, happy to have found sympathetic compatriots, said that she had to plug one of her ears, and I found myself looking with great interest at anyone I might know in the audience. Then, the other lady quipped that she had been to Spain, but where were the colorful dresses? To which I jumped in and said that what they were seeing tonight was very authentic - the gypsies, being poor, don't have a lot of money to spend on ornate costumes, and I suspected they were trying to create a mood as well as show what flamenco was, to them. Then one of ladies asked about boleros and pants, and I, being the flamenco know-it-all, explained about Carmen Amaya, yadda and yadda. Anywaaaayyyy...

It was a terrific performance and Soledad Barrio was amazing. My mother was very impressed in spite of everything. It was a great night, and we both enjoyed ourselves. It was good to see fellow flamencas there, even if, one who shall not be named and who apparently, still loathes the ground I dance upon, walked past me with an expression on her face which plainly was meant to say, "I know you're there, but I refuse to glance your way or even acknowledge your existence, despite the pissy expression on my face. You are dirt to me."

Ah, flamenco. What would it be without its loves and hates, mothers and lovers? (My lover, btw, chose to stay home and shave his head, but that's another story).

Busy-ness

2009-01-28T12:32:00.007-07:00

My posts have been few and far between lately. It would be nice if I could blame it on devoting the time to writing; there has been some of that, but the truth is, I've been tackling a number of projects/tasks that I needed/wanted to get done. This is what I've managed to accomplish since the new year.

Done: 1). Revamped two flamenco skirts that I wasn't getting much wear out of. I've turned them into new dresses and am pleased with the results. Hopefully, they'll see some stage time.

2). Finished reading through the On Spec November slush pile and made suggestions on which ones to buy, as well as comments on the rest. Some great stories in this batch, which was smaller than usual, so the reading was kept to about a week to get through everything.

Joined: A brand new cante group, where I will be getting some wonderful guidance on how to actually sing flamenco cante. I'm already working on one song sung by Carmen Linares, and I think I'm really going to enjoy being part of this group. I know most everybody, and they're all great people. All very talented, too.

Practiced: Three flamenco choreographies I've been working on, and especially trying to get the skirt working with the feet in the alegrias. Some improvement, there.

Working on: My outline for my sequel. 4/5ths done. Hopefully, I can begin the actual writing next week. It's been a bit of a challenge, as I don't usually work from outlines, but I thought it might be better if I thought the entire plot through in more depth than I usually do. Hopefully, this will save me some grief.

And speaking of the outline, here are a few highlights that I'll be tackling in the second book - actually, nah. It's probably better not to give anything away. I will say, however, that things get darker in all aspects - more violence, more sex, more losses, more creepiness, more insanity, more betrayals, more true love.

I'm going to enjoy the writing when I get to it.

Off to a Good Start

2009-01-08T14:22:00.004-07:00

I think it was Lolabola who had posted something about listing seven things you learned in 2008, and what you hoped to accomplish in 2009. There were a number of questions to that effect on her blog, but as she's archived it, I can't find it so I'm just going to do my own thing with what I learned and what I want to do.

What I learned in 2008:

What I learned seems to be all cliche, but it applies, so I'll just put each one down here without elaborating. Those who are nearest and dearest to me will likely know what I'm talking about. That said, here are the cliches that applied to yours truly, regarding what I learned in 2008:

Talk is cheap.
Actions speak louder than words.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
The truth will out.
Hard work is its own reward.
The journey is as important as the destination.
We reap what we sow.

What I hope to accomplish in 2009? More writing, more dancing, more fluency in Spanish, and more quality time spent with good friends and family. I seem to be off to a good start. My cards keep hinting at great success coming my way, so let's hope they're right.

A Reminder

2009-01-04T09:55:00.005-07:00

I needed a shot of Ucluelet today, so I thought I'd post this photo we took of Big Beach last summer, just to remind me that there are other places in Canada that aren't -30 C. I checked the weather forecast - it's 5 above in Ukee today, with a little rain. I could live with that. Sigh...

A Typical Phone Conversation with my Mother

2008-12-22T12:26:00.004-07:00

Me: Hello.
Mom: Hi. I was just wondering if you're warm enough.
Me: Yes, we're fine.
Mom: Did E tell you I called? I wanted to know if you got back from Calgary okay.
Me: Yeah, we're good. C is recovering, although they don't expect to let him out of the hospital for a few days. Maybe he'll be home for Christmas.
Mom: What's that growling?
Me: What growling?
Mom: That growling. All of a sudden your phone cut out, and all I could hear was growling.
Me: That was me. I said maybe C would be home for Christmas...
Mom: There it is, again! There's something wrong with your phone.
Me: Maybe it's the dishwasher. I just put it...
Mom: Those darn wireless phones are no good. You should change your phone.
Me: Okay! Well, we're home now, and we're fine (except for Satan, who apparently, has taken over our phone).
Mom: Okay. Well, talk to you soon. Call me!
Me: Okay. Bye.

You know some day, I'm going to look back and miss these conversations. Really.

Mal de Ojo

2008-12-22T00:08:00.004-07:00

As I write this, it's the day after Solstice and 12:10 in the morning. I'm on my second finger of scotch, and I should go to bed, but a weird thing happened to me today, so I thought I'd share it.

I was in Calgary today. Just for the day - my father-in-law who is 80 was in Foothills Hospital, so Mik and I went to visit for the day. Luckily, something that could have been serious wasn't, but that's another story. He is recovering, and we hope he will soon be out of the hospital and back home for Christmas.

Anyway, while we were downtown looking for a cab, we decided to have lunch at the Marriott before heading over to the hospital. On our way to the hotel, we walked past a couple of indigenous fellows, one of whom, I guess, didn't like me looking at him. I didn't think I was staring - I was more distracted than anything, but he gave me the thumb's down on the way past. The creepy thing is I've been reading recently about the mal de ojo or evil eye. When I asked Mik what he thought the thumb's down was all about, he figured maybe the guy didn't like me looking at him, particularly because my hair fell across one of my eyes. Either that, or he was just a street person who was a little zoned out. In any event, it was certainly strange and left me feeling odd! Weird, no?

Come and Gone

2008-12-15T20:49:00.007-07:00

Well, my birthday has come and gone once again. For fun, I did some checking to see what else happened on December 14th:

In 1287, the Zuider Zee wall collapsed in the Netherlands and killed 50,000 people. (Yikes).
In 1584, Mary Stuart became Queen Mary 1 of Scotland.
In 1903, the Wright brothers made their first attempt to fly the Wright Flyer at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina.
In 1911, Roald Amundsen's team were the first group to reach the South Pole.
In 1962, NASA's Mariner II was the first spacecraft to fly by Venus.
In 1972, Apollo astronaut Eugene Cernan was the last person to walk on the moon.
Lastly, in 2003, President Bush announced the capture of Saddam Hussein.

As for other December 14th boys and girls, I share the date with Nostradamus (his birthday) and (shudder) Vlad the Impaler (his death day). The former is cool, and the latter is not. Okay, well it is kind of, but in a grim, bloody sort of way which is probably better not to think too much about.

Thanks to everybody who wished me well. If you're interested, all of the above is courtesy of Wikipedia. Check out your own dates, if you're inclined.

My Process, Apparently...

2008-12-11T09:00:00.002-07:00

It's been quite a while since I've posted. This is because I've been spending most of my time writing, revising, and polishing my novel. It seems that whenever I think I'm done, something else occurs to me, and suddenly I have more writing to do. It's been an interesting process to watch; it amazes me that as human beings we can become so engrossed in what we're doing, and yet we can also step outside of that involvement and note how it evolves as if we're actually two people, one subjective and one objective. Maybe it has something to do with the way our brains function, the right and the left hemisphere doing their thing.

Anyway, I've been a bit driven lately, and other than getting ready for Christmas, writing has become my pulse. I came home from Calgary and the World Fantasy Convention and sent off the first 30 pages to an agent who expressed some interest which was great. However, on the way home, I also realized that I needed to change the plot and one character in a significant way. I've since done this, and it's made a huge difference in what I think will be the reader's involvement. (Luckily, this shift didn't affect the opening, so what I sent to S was still okay). Making these character and structural changes became Draft Two.

Draft Three involved technical details. A few people commented to me that I was a little scarce with the dialogue tags in a few places, so I went through the entire manuscript and added more of those in, as well as attempted to make sure that everything still flowed. Coming at it a third time, it seemed to me that the dialogue was also a bit sketchy in places, and it made me wonder why. Whenever I'm hit with a question like that, I turn to the writers I like to see how they handle the problem. Another lesson learned, and so I'm adjusting some of the action surrounding some of the dialogue to paint richer visuals for the reader.

Draft Four (and yes, I'm embarrassed to say that I'm at it yet, again) seems to involve turning what's adequate in terms of description and metaphor, into something above the basic and adequate. Here, the art comes in (or so I hope).

So, this seems to be my process. Draft One involves getting it all down. Draft Two deals with structure - adjusting plot and character to make things count more. Draft Three is about technical fixes to make things flow, and Draft Four is taking the lazy bits and making them fresh and original, which is what I'm doing now.

Since Calgary, I've been obsessed about it, because if S wants to see the rest of the manuscript, it has to be ready for her. And not just adequately ready, but absolutely ready. And if she decides it's not the kind of book she'd like to represent, then the time hasn't been lost. The work has only become better.

It will be nice to finally say it's done. I'd like to get on with Book Two.

The Fly in my Chardonnay

2008-11-24T07:54:00.006-07:00

I went to an amazing eight course dinner on Friday night, courtesy of one of Mik's associates who happens to be a gourmet cook. I can't remember all of the courses, but to give you an idea of what we had, this was the line-up:

Opening appetizer of fresh fig with reduced wine and a blue cheese and mascarpone topping.
Chestnut soup with gruyere and dried summer flowers
Pureed granny smith apple and fennel salad, with pepper oil and fennel
Blueberry and red wine risotto
Home-made beet, red pepper and pine tip sorbets
Pork, wrapped in bacon with apple, with a tossed side of roasted potato and yam
Painted chocolate cup nestled with cranberry sorbet

And there was wine with every single course. Oh my.

The only fly in the chardonnay was when one of the guests (and you must understand that there were six Ph.D's sitting around the table) felt the need to explain to me during the conversation that Harbin was a city in northern China. Which annoyed me because of his assumptions about intelligence and experience, and my lack thereof. I mean, really - why the need to look right at me and explain this as if I didn't already know? I'd been enjoying the night up to that point, but was a bit taken aback, so I said nothing to him at the time. Which just goes to show that some of the most educated out there, need to go back to charm school.

Viva Las Vegas

2008-11-20T13:08:00.003-07:00

My mother phoned me the other day to advise me that she had taken out a $300,000 insurance policy, just in case her plane goes down on the way to Las Vegas.

I asked her, "Did you tell Sharon about it?" (Sharon is my sister).

"No," she replied. "but the AMA would likely get a hold of her, too, if I crash."

"Damn," I said.

And just so all of you know, she knew it was a joke and we laughed.

Before Ascending the Mountain...

2008-11-10T07:46:00.005-07:00

... one cuts wood. And after coming down from the mountain, one still cuts wood. Or so the Zen saying goes. After the post yesterday, I've decided that no matter what happens, the work is still in front of me. If S likes it and wants to see the rest of the book, great. If she doesn't, I still have work to do and there are other agents out there. Whatever I do, it will only get better.

Read my cards last night, and they said pretty much the same thing - get at it, work hard, and you will accomplish what you want.

Writing awaits.

Obsessive Compulsive

2008-11-09T11:02:00.003-07:00

The World Fantasy Convention in Calgary has come and gone. It was fabulous, and I spent much of the time stressing and de-stressing over my meeting with S, who I was pitching my book to. And yes, she has asked to see 30 pages of it, so I've been reworking the opening, thanks to some excellent advice from J, who suggested I should spend a bit more time on my protagonist's POV before slipping into the secondary character POV's. As a result, I think the opening is much better, and hopefully, it will be enough to tempt S to want to read the whole book.

But therein, lies my problem. On the way home from Calgary, I decided that I had to combine two of my secondary characters into one - prior to the re-write, one of them was a favorite character of mine, and the other became the love interest for my main character. The problem, as I saw it, was that although I really like character number one, he doesn't have much of a function except to add color. I could justify this by making him more crucial in book two, but even I know that an agent or a publisher isn't going to accept that for a first novel. So, I have to combine these two characters into one - keep the interesting guy and make him the love interest. On the way home from Calgary, I figured this wasn't going to be difficult - easy-peasey.

Yeah, right. Famous last words. This isn't easy-peasey, because it's changed motivations and the temper/flavor of the plot in a number of areas. There are also a number of other changes that I want to incorporate - like make my grand inquisitor a little more creepy/crazy and less buffoonish. As a result, I'm now also questioning the action in the middle of the book - is there enough excitement to keep a reader involved? I'm worrying that it's dragging in places.

This past week, I've been writing and obsessing and worried that the work isn't good enough, it's not exciting enough. S may not want to see it, but the one thing I am sure of is the new opening. So now, I have to fix and beef up the rest of the book. S told me that if she wants to see the rest of the book, she'd let me know within 6 to 8 weeks after reading the first 30 pages. Will I have enough time? Part of me wonders if I'm just not over-obsessing, especially now that I have a foot in the door with an agent.

I hate this. I wish I was absolutely brilliant and that I never questioned my writing ability. I'm stressed, and it sucks. Which, of course, is affecting the writing.

World Fantasy Convention

2008-10-29T08:52:00.005-06:00

I am leaving for Calgary tomorrow, to spend the weekend at World Fantasy Con at the Hyatt. I'm getting a chance to listen to some of my favorite authors, including Guy Kay, Garth Nix, Tad Williams and Scott Lynch. Oh my heaven, I will be in the presence of some amazing talent, I'm sure I'll be blinded by their brilliance. Here's what I'm planning on doing.

Thursday night, I'll be sitting in David Morrell's discussion on author voice.

Friday - going to my friend Holly's reading of her new novel, The Engine's Child. Then attending a Guy Kay reading, a talk on the role of violence in fantasy with Scott Lynch (my favorite fantasy writer, ever, although Tad Williams runs a close second) and attending a panel on medieval mysteries (right up my alley).

Saturday, I'll be hearing about dangerous settings, listening to Garth Nix read, listening to Tad Williams read from Shadowrise (or so I hope - this is the third book in his Shadowmarch trilogy. It's not yet published). And then... nail biting here - meeting Holly's agent to pitch my book. I don't want to get my hopes up, and it may not be the kind of book she likes or represents, but for all of you out there reading this, send me positive energy so I don't sound like a complete fool when I talk to her.

And of course, there will be lots of partying, schmoozing, drinking, eating, hanging with old friends, making some new ones, as well as sitting at the On Spec table to promote the magazine. It's all going to be great!

Junkerhood

2008-10-23T08:32:00.006-06:00

I have an old 1991 Jeep Cherokee. I've been loathe to give it up, because I don't really want to buy a new SUV considering gas prices, plus I don't like any of the new hybrids out there. As well, I'm one of those people who hangs onto things forever, long after their usefulness has ceased to be. Maybe I'm like this due to my mother's influence. She used to tell me that when she was in high school, she had only one blouse and one skirt to wear, which she used to wash and hang to dry all the time. I have no idea what she did while they were drying. Maybe she hid in the chuck wagon.

Anyway, the silly jeep has decided to take security very seriously; the driver's side door is now jammed. The jeep is a two-door only, so I have to climb though the passenger side and squirm over the console in order to get behind the wheel. I find I now look for parking spots that are farther from the door, just so people don't figure I'm breaking into my own car. This is just the latest in a series of break-downs, which are as follows:

I can no longer open the tailgate. If I do, the entire upholstered section slides off.
I need to replace a switch (which is worth more than the jeep) in the ignition. Until I do, half the time it starts in Drive, and the other half, in Neutral. This also involves jiggling the steering wheel to get things going.
I have to manually turn off the turn signals. If I don't, people assume I'm perpetually turning. Yes, one of those drivers. Now, you know why.
The windshield isn't great. It doesn't like rain. Not much of surprise. Neither do I, when it's coming in through the seams.
The clock hasn't worked for years. When you drive with me, it's always 1:10.

Mik says we can take care of the jammed door after pay day. The rest I can put up with, but a permanently locked door is a bit much.

Super Weekend

2008-10-20T08:24:00.007-06:00

It's now Monday morning, and I need to get to work. But I just have to tell you, I had the greatest weekend. Friday, I met with J and had sushi for lunch, always a pleasure. Friday night, On Spec's launch of the Youth Issue and our new CD "Because We Hear Voices" went off really well (at the Pure Speculation Festival/Con), and it was great to hang with writer friends as well as meet some new people. The panels and readings on Saturday were really well done. It was a pleasure to listen to both Robert J. Sawyer and Thomas Wharton. I asked about their process - both concurred that they don't write their novels from a strongly defined outline, as things occur to them along the way. It was interesting to find that we share that approach. Sunday, I hadn't planned on going, but after reading the schedule, I had to go and listen to Brian Hades from Edge Publishing in Calgary. Brian and I are on friendly terms - he knows me from my association with On Spec. He told me to mail him a couple of chapters of the book once I was happy with it. I told him that if I did that, I'd likely come down to Calgary and hand deliver it, so I also got invited for tea and scones in the process. Finally, I also started dancing for the term with J, and it was great to be in her classes once again.

The only funny/odd thing that happened over the weekend occurred when I spoke to Thomas Wharton after his reading. Thomas is an Assistant Prof at the University here, so I mentioned that Mik was also a prof at the U - the Chair of Computing Science. I had the misled idea that if I mentioned this, there might be a warm connection, and that he'd see I was more than just a bum in a chair listening to him read, that I too, was an intelligent person (and yes, what does this tell you about me - that I need to make sure people know this - obviously, there's a bit of inadequacy floating around, but let's not get into that). Well. The look Thomas got on his face was a bit alarmed, and then B, bless her soul, broke the moment by making a silly joke about Mik being an actual chair (as in wood and arm rests). Anyway, when I got home later, I told Mik about it, and he said I likely scared the poor guy. The last thing he wants is his own Chair of English to know that he was at some, small Gaming/Writing convention held in the Hazeldean Community Hall, even if it was to promote his book. Chairs talk amongst themselves, don't you know. Academia is very strange. Appearances count. Who knew?

Anyway, a great weekend for me (if not for others), all around.

Pandora's Box

2008-10-13T10:05:00.004-06:00

The difference between me and Pandora, is that I know beforehand what's in the box. Yesterday, we celebrated Thanksgiving dinner, and I had my mother over. She arrived with tomato aspic and newspaper clippings in hand.

Now part of me knows I shouldn't read the clippings, because they're always some version of the latest threat du jour. But another part of me has this unhealthy curiosity that wants to know how the specific themes of doom have mutated. Last time she brought clippings, one was about furnaces blowing up and families dying in horrible fires. This time? Here are the headlines:

Burn hazard prompts Sony laptop recall (we'd already discussed this one over the phone weeks ago).
Inhalers increase risk of cardiovascular death: study (there's a visual for you - a bunch of lab coats watching some poor guy reach for his puffer, who then dies of a heart attack because they're not helping him).
Scientists link cellphone use to brain cancer
and lastly, Teen sex harms the brain, doctors warn (which she helpfully pointed out to E, my 13-year old daughter, who got quite annoyed at being put on the spot).

I also should mention that my mother, having heard that B, my eldest, broke up with his girlfriend, suggested that girls 'don't like piercings', at which point he left the kitchen, and I asked her to stop.

Oh, yeah. Good times!

It's not really tedious...

2008-10-11T13:38:00.002-06:00

... draft two is just necessary. I doubt very much if I'll be one of those writers that sticks to a very tight synopsis even in the future. It's much more fun to create as you go and to have that flexibility; some things are not going to occur to you at the onset. I see now why major changes to a second draft may be necessary, particularly in terms of character. By the time you finish with a reasonably edited first draft, you have to go back, because you have such a better understanding of your characters, history, and their situation. I've completely rewritten the opening of the novel, and I've introduced my main character in a much more immediate and stronger way. I've also introduced my four other main secondary characters right from the get-go, so the plot isn't quite so clunky and the reader can expect more from the secondaries because that expectation has been set up. As a result, subsequent plot elements need fixing or tightening, but on the whole, I can see the end result. I think the book will be so much better, so much tighter.

I'll be handing the finished second draft off to J, writer and friend extraordinaire for comment shortly. With luck, it will be in reasonable enough shape to pitch it, by the time I head off to the World Fantasy Con in Calgary over the Halloween weekend.

Why is Draft Two so Tedious?

2008-09-30T13:01:00.002-06:00

After the exuberance of finishing the first draft, I'm already into making changes in draft two - some of these are based on comments I received months ago, as well as some that I've received from the Cult recently. The past two days I've been thinking about whether or not to cut a major secondary character. If I do, the story is simpler and makes sense. It can live without him. But on the other hand, he's a great character, and I can make him crucial in book two. I've been tossing back and forth whether he goes or not. For now, I'm making a few changes to hint at why he needs to stay in the plot, even if that isn't resolved by the end of book one. I hope it's justifiable.

Already, I think my opening is much, much tighter. Much more action, and much less description of setting - I've had to leave some nice bits behind, including back story which I've been told by a number of people that I should avoid. I have to admit, I think they're right. As well, next time I do an entire synopsis instead of writing and creating as the ideas come to me - I think the effort will be much less chunky in introducing character.

Rewriting feels like a bit of a drag, kind of like going to the dentist because you know you need to.

First Draft, Done!

2008-09-25T14:35:00.009-06:00

I just finished penning the last word to my novel. The word turned out to be 'grow'. I didn't know that, until about half an hour ago.

As it currently is, the novel sits at 101,396 words. I expect I'll trim it down a bit, but I suspect it will hover between 95,000 and 100,000 once it's really done.

It's taken me a year to write it. I started the actual writing last October, 2007. The research for it began a few months prior, in August, and that's been ongoing. I already know where I need to make a few changes to earlier scenes, mostly due to later character development. There are also a few bits that I might cut entirely, as they're not needed. We'll see.

It's so strange. I know I have some polishing to do. But this doesn't feel like the completion of a book. I'm already thinking about the outline for the next one in the series (a trilogy), and I'm excited to be thinking about that. So, I will continue to write while I try to find a home (which could take years, although hopefully not) for this current one.

Did I happen to mention that today has turned out to be a great day? It is!

In the Final Stretch...

2008-09-16T13:50:00.003-06:00

As of today, the book is pushing 91,000 words. I'm guessing there are between 10,000 to 15,000 words to go. Lately, it's been a bit of a struggle, but I'm in the final stretch.

Hope Zoe is Okay...

2008-09-13T10:26:00.005-06:00

Last night, we went out to the Padmanadi Vegetarian Restaurant, Mik's choice for his birthday, as he's a vegetarian. If you don't know it, the place is on 97th Street in the heart of Chinatown. He was happy to see all the 'V's in the menu; he finds the vegetarian choices limited in most restaurants. Anyway, this isn't what this post is about, but I will say that I don't understand why a vegetarian restaurant uses gluten, tofu, or whatever to fashion food into looking like it's chicken, pork, or beef. I mean, if you're a vegetarian restaurant, stick to vegetarians and serve them as they are.

Anyway, when we were coming back from dinner, these guys hailed us from their front yard and asked if we had a vehicle parked nearby. Somebody had run their dog down, and they didn't have a car to take her to the vet. I'd seen their puppy (and them) when we'd been on our way to the restaurant; she was very friendly (although they weren't at the time). She came bounding over to wag a hello to us from behind their fence. Mik told them to bring her, and we took them to the Vet Emergency on 111 Street and 102 Avenue.

It was a judgment call. In the back of my mind I hoped it wasn't a scam and I wasn't going to feel a knife at my ear, with the suggestion that we better drive to the nearest instant teller. But they were only worried about their dog. Apparently, the woman who struck Zoe didn't bother to stop. All she did was yell out her window to ask if the dog was okay, before buggering off.

Zoe was able to walk to the truck with her owners, although when one guy lifted her up by the front legs without supporting her back ones, I was worried that if she had any broken ribs, he was making things worse. We left them at the vet, with profuse thanks from them. So, I feel kind of bad for being paranoid, but also glad we helped them out. I hope Zoe is okay. She was a sweet pup. If Mik and I get a chance, maybe we'll drive by their place later, and see how she made out. You just never know about people.

I'm a new fan of Charlie...

2008-09-07T09:56:00.004-06:00

Check out the YouTube video at: Charlie the Unicorn 2. Enjoy.

Under My Skin...

2008-08-31T18:42:00.008-06:00

...well, just a little. As some of you know, and maybe most of you don't, I was at the PopPrint Writers Festival these past few days at the U of A. The hour and a half workshop that Diane and I ran, based on the ABC's went off really well, and one guy told me that he thought it was helpful. It was also great spending some quality time talking to old friends (Diane, Barb, Ann, and Danica), as well as making some new ones (Bronwyn). I sat in on a couple of romance writing workshops, mostly because I wanted to learn if writing romances was lucrative. The Harlequin editor was pretty non-committal on pay rates, said they varied tremendously, but didn't specify how, when or why. I later checked Harlequin's website. They're very closed-mouthed about how much they pay. On a subsequent link, there was mention of a scandal that occurred a few years ago, where a first-time novelist plagiarized from some already published ChicLit books - her advance had been $500,000. Of course, the deal fell through, but those kind of numbers make me think that I should attempt a ChicLit book after I wrap up the current one. Something to think about, anyway. Who couldn't use that kind of money?

On the downside, I bought a book from an acquaintance - someone I'd taken a writing course with about twenty years ago. I thought I'd be nice - it's always good to support a fellow writer. The problem was the inscription she wrote which I read when I got home. She wrote: Dear Susan - hope you have a fun read. Keep writing.

Now, it's probably just me, but to tell me to keep writing is insulting. She has no idea what my writing ability is, not having seen any examples of it in the last twenty years. I really don't think I need her encouragement. I found the comment patronizing. Anyway, it was no big deal, but it did kind of irk. I'd never put that in anyone's book.

And speaking of writing, the romance panel included a first-time novelist who was giving away copies of her book to attendees. The Harlequin editor made a big deal about quality of writing, and how it's the writing that sells the book. Yet another discovery when I got home was finding the book's prose clunky and the characters stereotypical, so much so that it made me choke. All I can say is somebody's dream about being a novelist came true, and that's a happy thing. But I wouldn't have been proud of a book like that.

On the up-side, Ann told me that she is going to recommend to her students at Grant MacEwan that they buy my book on how to not write SF. She's even going to take copies so they're available. Thanks, Ann!

Next two months will be spent wrapping up my own novel. And then, we'll see what we shall see. Don't anybody hold their breath, though. I'm sure it will be a long process.

PopPrint - Continuities and Innovations Convention

2008-08-27T11:48:00.003-06:00

Tomorrow, Diane and I are presenting an ABC's workshop on SF writing (or rather, how NOT to write SF) at the PopPrint Convention, held at the University of Alberta in the Humanities Building. There are two legs to the convention - the academic conference and the comics and writers festival. The former costs if you want you to hear the talks; the latter, in which Diane and I are involved, is free (at least according to their website). On Spec will also have a display table set up in the Marketplace, (Humanities, Room 2-22).

We're presenting at 3:00 to 4:30 in Humanities HC2-14. As well as the academic end of things, there will be many public interest talks for writers who not only want to write SF, but romance, children's books and other genres. You can check out this Schedule at a Glance (go to the very end) if you're interested.

My Guy

2008-08-24T11:17:00.004-06:00

This is what Mik does when he's having fun. Kayaking is his passion as much as flamenco is mine. I liked this photo, so I thought I'd post it.

Apparently, I am...

2008-08-21T14:12:00.003-06:00

You Are Disturbingly Profound

You're contemplative, thoughtful, and very intense.
Taking time to figure out the meaning of life is a priority for you.
Because you're so introspective, you often react in ways that surprise people.
No one can really understand how you are on the inside... and that disturbs them.

http://www.blogthings.com/areyoudisturbinglyprofoundquiz/

Distractions...

2008-08-19T12:03:00.003-06:00

I have finally joined Facebook. It's been a bit of a distraction for the past couple of days, but it's also been fun. I've still managed to get a bit of writing done, and actually wrote a flash fiction piece this morning (88 words) in answer to a writing challenge that my writing group, The Cult of Pain, threw at everyone's feet. As for the novel, it's sitting at 72,000 words. I have to figure out a transitional piece, which isn't really working at the moment. I've come up with a few ideas of how to get from point a to point b, but none of them really appeal; they conflict with how I see my antagonist. Sometimes, you just have to step away for a while.

I also have a bedroom to paint before school starts. And today is also Mik's and my anniversary, so we're going out for dinner. As well, over the next few days, I have Bulerias to practice in order to firm up the steps and not completely forget everything I've been shown.

I suppose if the writing is stalling, now is a good time for that to happen. I'll be interested to hear what the Cult thinks of the novel so far. We're meeting this Friday night. In the meantime, much to think about, much to do.

It's the Small Things

2008-08-16T08:55:00.004-06:00

I had my first private flamenco lesson with a really wonderful teacher yesterday. I wanted to work on bulerias, which we did, but we also spent a lot of time 'fixing' things like my posture, my flores (hand circles), and how I attack certain steps. I learned so much. I hope I can retain it all. A lot of it will be to just remember and practice what she told me, and to focus on breaking my bad habits. I seem to have a lot of those.

As intense as flamenco is, it's also very contained. I seem to be learning that this applies with just about everything I do when I dance. I have a group bulerias class today and tomorrow - the classes are an hour and a half each, with a final one next weekend, which I hope I can make.

Two weekends from now, fellow On Spec editor, Diane, and I will be attending Continuities and Innovations, a popular print culture conference held through the English Department of the University of Alberta. We are slated to do an ABC's of How NOT to Write SF workshop on the Thursday (the 28th), but On Spec will also have a booth there, representing the magazine which we'll be manning. I'm looking forward to attending, as there will also be a number of interesting speakers on writing popular culture (comics, mixed media, romance, etc. I suppose On Spec represents the SF element.) If you're interested, follow the link and check it out. And if you're attending, come by the booth to say hello.

Should Have Taken a Photo, But Didn't...

2008-08-13T13:51:00.004-06:00

...so you will just have to use your imagination to envision my most recent culinary effort. Which, I might add, is an original. Which considering my ability as a chef, is astounding.

Take a lemon cake recipe mix, bake two 9" rounds.
Take one of the rounds, and mound it with whipped cream.
Load fresh blueberries on top of the cake and cream.
Take two limes, remove the zest, and use their juice, along with an equal amount of lemon, about a half cup of sugar (or more to taste), and two tbsp. of corn starch. Blend and cook over moderate heat until you've made a thick glaze. Toss in half of the lime zest.
Drop blobs of lemon/lime glaze over blueberries.
Dust with icing sugar
Sprinkle whole thing with remaining lime zest.

It turned out pretty and the fam liked it. The blueberries mix particularly well with lemon and lime, surprisingly. Bon appetit.

Ten Lives?

2008-08-10T09:29:00.004-06:00

I dreamed about Mini, my old cat, this morning. Except instead of being a grey tabby, she was now an orange and white tabby kitten. She belonged to someone else and climbed onto the top of their fridge. I picked her up, and she purred, happy to see me.

Weird, huh? I suspect the dream had something to do with my musings yesterday about animals and reincarnation. I was petting Tessa and wondered how something so fine as a dog's soul could just vanish into nothing at death. I figured, maybe it couldn't.

So either my dream about Mini was an answer, or just a dream reflecting some odd thoughts. Jury's still out on this one.

Congratulations, Barb!

2008-08-08T07:40:00.002-06:00

I just got an e-mail from my friend and Cult of Pain buddy, Barb. She was just offered a contract from Edge Publishing in Calgary, to publish the first book of her trilogy, Druids. Way to go, Barb!

As for yours truly, I broke 67,000 words yesterday, which wrapped up Part Two of my novel. I'll be sending it to the Cult to critique. Hopefully, they'll have enough time to look at it (or even a portion of it) before August 22nd, when we meet.

Makes sense, I suppose...

2008-08-05T15:32:00.006-06:00

Have been writing lately. After taking a few days off to put the house and garden back in order following our trip to Ukee, I'm back in writing-mode again. It's been fun.

I did take Sunday off to go to Heritage Days, however. E, me, and my mother spent several hours walking around. We enjoyed it, saw the Taiko drummers and Pedro's flamenco dancers doing a Sevillana at the Iberian-American pavilion (although not together). Even better was seeing the east African drumming group accompanying the Irish with their dancing and jigs - I mean really, isn't that what Heritage Days is all about?

(Insert visual here: S pausing this post to chase barking dogs out of the flower garden with a sprinkler, as they have caught sight of the neighbor's cat and are trampling the day lilies to orange bits. I now have a wet ass from sprinkling myself, plus a pinkie with a dent in it, because it got it caught in the sprinkler. Dogs are damp, but unscathed. Yes, I am limping to the finish, finger-wise, with this post).

As for Heritage Days, the most interesting was realizing that the reason I loved taking Tai Kwon Do years ago, and now flamenco, is that the intensity of performance is pretty much the same. Of course, with TKD, the intention is to 'protect oneself' or kick the crap out of your opponent. With flamenco, it's to express passion and to entertain.

Since I don't like getting beat up, I think I'll stick with the latter.

Florencia is Still My Fave

2008-07-25T17:23:00.005-06:00

We went to Florencia Bay beach yesterday, for our last day in Ukee. The weather was perfect; the sun came out just after we got down to the sand at around 11:00 a.m.

Again, I've discovered why this is my favorite beach of all of them in the area. Although it's a trek from the parking lot down a trail, and then some very steep stairs to the beach, this is also what makes it a bit more remote than the others. When we got there, there were only five people on the entire beach, of which we were three. The crowd swelled to 17 by 2:00 p.m.

Florencia is also a sheltered beach, with headlands enclosing it on either side, although if you're into walking along the water, you'll get a good walk. Lots to see, too - big black rocks dotting the perfectly smooth sand (when the tide is out), and lots of anenomies and star fish clinging to them, hoping for the tide to return. It's a clean beach with not much in the way of kelp or other sea grass littering it. It's a wonderful place to contemplate, come wind to face with the bigger world and very little distraction. I love it.

It's been an excellent trip. Tomorrow, we head back to Edmonton and hopefully, we'll make it in one go. I'd rather get home than stop somewhere for the night, like Kamloops. We'll see. I also managed to get a lot of thinking done about the novel, which was stressing me a little before we left as I had a few ideas as to where I wanted the plot to go, but not much in the way of how to get from point a to point b and have the motivations make sense. Again, a new minor character which I'll be introducing, plus developing one that became pivotal when I was on the plane to Edinburgh. I'm thinking I'm half way through, so possibly another 60,000 words. Time to get back to the writing, now that most of the plotting has been done.

I still wish I was walking on Florencia, though.

Life's a Beach..

2008-07-23T15:05:00.004-06:00

We've been checking out the local beaches between Tofino and Ucluelet. Mik's off today to kayak at Wickaninish or Wick Beach, but as the sun is a bit watery, E and I are spending the afternoon at the cottage we've rented at Reef Point. We'll likely head out to the Cynamoka Coffeehouse in a bit. As for this morning, we walked part of the Wild Pacific Trail, mostly to see where it leads from our property, and to check out how the condo building is going at Black Rock, plus to see the newer neighborhood being developed just down the way at Ocean View. Beautiful lots, but as I said in my last post, hopes are high here; the development is slow.

I do however, have a better idea of the beaches between here and Tofino. Cox Bay is great because it's a bit more sheltered than Long Beach, so less wind to bother us landlubber types, who do little more than dip our ankles into the surf. I liked Long Beach less because of the wind, but it's hard to know whether it's colder there because of the longer expanse, or it was just that day in particular. Chesterman Beach, also near Tofino, is nice, maybe more of a family/kids beach, and also a little more sheltered, so more sun and less wind. Wick and Florencia, both of which are closer to Ucluelet, I already know, and of the two, I prefer Florencia, although it's a bit of a trek to the sand if you've got beach chairs and other paraphernalia loading you down. On the other hand, Wick beach has the Wickaninish Restaurant (not to be confused with the Wickaninish Inn, which is very upscale and a little pretentious - can you say $90.00+ for a bottle of red wine? Plus, when we showed up there last year, having confused it for the restaurant, we didn't have a reservation, so they sat us near the kitchen's entrance when there were plenty of tables right near the windows with the gorgeous view. We didn't stay (and since they figured we were riff-raff, I don't think we were missed.) Anyway, the Wick Restaurant is one of our favorite places to eat, it's also on the beach with a beautiful view, the food is good and reasonably priced, too. Go there. Unless of course, you like to pay $90.00+ for wine, just because you can.

We've learned that surfers consider kayaks to be evil. I can't blame them for worrying about being speared, and there are always self-involved idiots out there who don't think about anyone but themselves. But even though Mik was padding a whitewater boat rather than a sea kayak, he got some dark looks. He was considerate of the surfers and kept well back from them, so after awhile they forgot about him. Still, some biases die hard, and I suspect there's a lot of 'us locals don't like you tourists' going on, despite tourism being a major part of the economy out here. Anyway, in my mind, courtesy is necessary, but nobody has a claim on the ocean.

We went to the Ucluelet Aquarium the other day. It was fantastic. From the outside, it's pretty small and doesn't look like much more than a boat house. Every specimen is caught right from the marina, and they'll be released when the aquarium closes in fall. Everything is also hands-on, so if you want to touch a sun-star or an anemone, you can. But the best thing about the aquarium is that the staff pretty much give you a walking tour from the moment you walk in the door, and what they have to say or show you is fascinating. We must have spent two hours in there, and I wasn't even aware of the time passing. If you get a chance to see Ukee's aquarium, go. I can't recommend it enough.

Time now, to head to the Cynamoka Coffeehouse. Caffeine calls.

Back in Ucluelet

2008-07-20T10:11:00.003-06:00

If you're reading this, you know it's been about a week or so since I last posted. I've been on the road - first to Nanoose Bay and now Ucluelet. It's been a good visit so far to the coast.

Ukee's seen some changes since we were here last year. Sorry, no pix, as neither Mik nor I brought the camera, but if we are pointing the finger of blame as to whom was supposed to remember it, I'm not the one in charge of such devices. So if I post any pix, they will likely be from last year's trip or 'borrowed'.

The old bakery is gone. I was informed by a waitress at Matterson's that the couple who ran it broke up unfortunately, instead of opening the restaurant they were planning. Which also goes to show you that everybody knows everyone's business in a town that has a resident community of 1700 people. On the other hand, the Cynamoka coffee house and B & B has been bought by new owners, and that's up and running; last year it was closed and for sale. There's a brand new aquarium down by the Whiskey Dock, and the gardening society has been busy planting rhododendrons along the highway leading into town. Several building sites for new condos have been completed or are going up. No boom here, but the growth is slow but sure.

Later today we're off to Cox Bay near Tofino as Mik wants to surf in his kayak. The break there is supposed to be one of the best on the island. I'll sit or walk on the beach to contemplate life, the novel, and everything. It's supposed to be sunny and warm later this afternoon, although right now it's cool and cloudy. Typical morning weather for around here. It should be a good day, though. More later.

60,000 words and climbing...

2008-07-07T13:17:00.002-06:00

I broke 60,000 words on the novel, today. I figure another 40,000 words, and we're done.

Recent scenes have dealt with medieval porn, child sociopaths, prodigal sons, and flamenco. Loves discovered, jealousy rising.

Scenes to come, betrayals, arrests, black masses, dynamic trios, rescues, sad losses, finding home. But those will have to wait until after I come back from B.C. At least, I'm just about finished Part Two. Part Three - Earth - will be shorter, and Part Four - Water - the shortest of all, which also segues into the next book.

Of course, this is only the first draft. Much can change, possibly evolve. We shall see.

You gotta see this and DANCE!!!

2008-07-04T20:31:00.006-06:00

I shamelessly stole this from Derryl Murphy's blog, but it's so great I have to pass it along. I watched this video of Matthew Harding dancing, and it makes me happy just to watch it. I think Matthew's on to something. We're different colors and shapes, but people everywhere mostly want the same thing. To be happy.

Check it out at: http://www.vimeo.com/1211060. Enjoy.

(As Derryl suggests, you might get a smoother viewing if you turn off the HD button on the right before you start watching. I found it much less jerky that way.)

Writing, research... and one too many wee drams...

2008-07-04T09:28:00.003-06:00

Feeling a bit crappy today. It's either because I'm coming down with M's sinus/cold thingee or I should have stuck to only one wee dram last night, instead of two. But it was such a nice night - balmy, perfect summer deck weather, just a slight breeze, and the conversation was good to downright inspirational. So - two wee drams instead of a mere one. And it's Irish I've decided I like, being a bit sweeter than most Scotches. But either way, I need to be careful with the stuff, as it's also excellent hang-over material.

If I get any writing done today, it'll be creepy stuff, as yesterday was a scene that left me feeling slimed. It was necessary, and something I came up with on the flight to Edinburgh. Too good to pass up, and it puts a twist on an earlier turn of events that I hope most people won't see coming or figure out until the end. Later this morning, I'm meeting with B, A, and hopefully E for coffee at Indigos, where I intend to pick up a copy of "The Black Arts' by Cavendish. This is not so much a how-to book on satanism (which I wouldn't buy), but an exploration of the dark arts through the ages, which is something I'm working with in the novel.

The book is definitely schizophrenic. On the one hand, I work with the themes of connection, love, and family. On the other - dysfunction, disconnection, evil.

I hope to break 60,000 words by the end of next week. Currently, it's sitting at about 57,000, so another 3,000 words should be no problem. I probably won't be ready to release it to the Cult or anybody else who wants to read how it's going until the fall. Not sure how long it's going to be. I originally thought 85 to 90,000 words, but I suspect it will be longer than that. And that's only Book One. I already have a few ideas regarding the locale of Book Two - either the new world (South America or the Caribbean) or potentially England. We'll see.

So it goes.

And yet more Edinburgh...

2008-06-26T07:42:00.006-06:00

It's time to wrap the trip up, and get some work done around here (back to writing). Here are a few more photos, out of a couple of hundred. This one is of the elephant house, where J.K. Rowling wrote her Harry Potter series.

This one is on the wall of the tartan mill, just before you reach Edinburgh Castle. It marks the place where witches were burnt at the stake. I'm glad to see that there are flowers left there, as I was planning on leaving some myself, but I didn't have a bouquet when we came upon it. The plaque depicts a two-headed woman, with one face angry and the other serene, both entwined by a serpent. I wouldn't have depicted witches that way. The inscription also strikes me like a half-assed apology. It reads: This fountain, designed by John Duncan, R.S.A., is near the site where many witches were burned at the stake. The wicked head and serene head signify that some used their exceptional knowledge for evil purposes while others were misunderstood and wished their kind nothing but good. The serpent has the dual significance of having evil and wisdom. The foxglove spray further emphasizes the dual purpose of many common objects.

Kind of fizzles by the end, doesn't it? Especially when you consider that entire families, babies included, were put to the torch. Anyway, here's the plaque. I suppose it's something.

This a door at the Holyrood Palace. Beautiful work. Love the unicorn!

And this is the Mercat Heart, considered the heart of Edinburgh. It's on the Royal Mile, right near the Mercat Cross where they used to hold a huge market in the middle ages. Heralds also used to shout the news near here. When Scotland voted to form their own government, they kept to tradition. Although everyone knew about it, the heralds announced it at the Mercat Cross three days later, as that was what it used to take for a horse to travel to Edinburgh from London. The wet marks in the middle of the heart are spit. Apparently, it's lucky to spit on the heart. And yes, I did, but I'm not a very good spitter.

And finally, as predicted, yours truly in front of the Royal McGregor. Great food, there. M had a vegetarian haggis which was wonderful, if you can believe it. I had a huge seafood salad. Plus a wee dram, of course.

We Interrupt This Travelogue...

2008-06-25T09:49:00.006-06:00

... to bring you a small rant. Of which I have remained quiet, up until now.

Everyone has their limits. I reached mine, this morning. I was at my vets first thing this morning, for the Tessa-monster. Nothing serious, just a follow-up visit. I was in the office for two minutes when I glanced over at a table our vet has in his waiting room. There, beside a newspaper and various pet pamphlets lay a small pile of bookmarks, advertising a local, self-published author.

This kind of self-promotion bugs the hell out of me. I've read one of her books, and it was all right, but nothing stellar. I would have had comments to make if she had wanted them, but I know she doesn't like criticism - thus, the Way of Self-Publishing. You get to write your book and publish it too. No pain involved with the potential for rejection. Hey, presto! You're a writer.

Why does this annoy me so much? I think it ticks me off because there are many writers out there who work their buns off and go through legitimate routes to get their work published. They wait, and hope, and pray, and don't litter drugstores or vet offices with their self-promoting paraphernalia. Someone else (who isn't a friend) has said their work is good enough to publish. Someone else has enough faith in their work that they're willing to represent it.

Not only are self-promoters/publishers unwilling to do that, but their tactics are dishonest. Most people see a bookmark or a pamphlet and think that the blurbs about the book are written by someone else, not by the writer herself. In this particular case, there was one quote from a 'bestselling author' who I've never heard of. I'll google the name, but I strongly suspect that Ms. Bestseller also has bookmarks out that include a provocative quote from Ms. Self-Promoter.

I've run into people who have said they admire such self-promoters, that they wish they were just like them. Prop me dead and naked in the street before I ever stoop to tell anybody just how wonderful my writing is. That's for others to say, if they choose to say it, don't you think?