Category Archives: family

Cancon and deadlines

I know it’s been awhile since I wrote anything, sorry. But sometimes life catches up and you run out of hours.

Cancon where I did my first presentation to other writers, was 3 weeks before the deadline for a 10k word story I hadn’t started yet.

My darling hubby also had minor heart surgery that month. Is there even such a thing as minor heart surgery?!

Either way it totally wrecked my concentration and process. The first draft of this story was like pulling teeth from an angry cat with your bare hands.

But 2nd draft is now done and I’m sending it off to a few friends for a quick read to make sure it makes sense before shipping it off to the publisher.

In happier news, my first story for this publisher is coming out tomorrow!!!!

Oh, another short is being published in mid-October. The Ottawa Independent Writers are celebrating thirty years by putting out an anthology of 30 stories by their members.

I’m so excited!

My presentation at Cancon seemed to go well. About 30 ppl showed up and took notes. And handouts, which I promise to put up on my website soon. Soonish.

One even caught me in a math error.  A bit embarrassing for a bookkeeper.  But I  brilliantly blamed it on Chizine’s open bar the night before, and insufficient coffee that morning.  I got a lot of understanding nods.

 

Must run, company just arrived.

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A writer’s best friends!

When I write, I immerse myself completely in my story. I call myself a “method writer”, Similar to a “method actor” but less annoying. (Why is my hubby laughing?)

I surround myself with tokens of that world; an intricate ring, a photo of a misty mountain, a particular scent… Then I disappear completely. Not always good for something on the stove, but great for imagery in the book.

It’s the burned offerings for supper that annoy me. I know better than to ignore something on the stove. But it happens, rarely, but always the most expensive meals.

So I have decided that these two things are my best friends in the kitchen. A crockpot and an Instant Pot. These two are programmable, useful for more than one thing, and holy guacamole, do they make supper easy!

*I get a small percentage of sales off these 2 items if you purchase them through this page. The crockpot is an incredible price! And if you buy through this page, Amazon won’t close my acct for inactivity.

Both are programmable, so you can pile everything into the pot in the morning, set the timer and ignore it all day! My kinda cooking. The Instant Pot also has 7 functions, including slowcooker. So technically, you only need the one.

I have made chicken and veggie curry in 25 minutes (from frozen) in the Instant Pot. I’ve also made broth so strong it gels in the fridge in 2 hours. THat usually takes at least 24 hours in the crockpot.

I also use them both for making stuff to can; jams, leftovers, stews…. The Instant Pot even lets you pressure can up to 4 500ml jars. Like leftover 20 minute chili?

 

This week in writing…

So I am flying to Winnipeg tonight at 8, arriving about midnight. So I can spend the whole day freaking out about forgetting stuff. It’s my M-i-L’s 80th birthday, and we are having a 5 day celebration! Four if you don’t count the rack of lamb for last night’s dinner.

This is going to be a break from writing, and a chance to catch up on two books I promised to review. So I’m taking my tablet, but not the laptop. Tablet is great for reading on, lousy for writing.

I need the break, I’ve been writing so much I’m starting to confuse conversations in the book for conversations with my hubby. I also had my author’s photos done!

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So, I’ll be offline for a few days. Try not to bring on the apocalypse while I’m gone.

Orlando shootings, another voice

It’s been ages since I posted, I’ve been crazy busy, and the world has just gone crazy.

After my mom’s wedding a little less than a month ago, I worked a book fair, dealt with pain levels that would make a grown man sob hysterically, attended two milestone birthday parties, started a garden, had three doctor appointments, wrote a 7 page outline, adopted a stray cat, had friends over for dinner….

For most of you, that might not sound crazy busy. But I do most of it hunched over from pain, barely able to walk. I am on morphine from the pain, and some days it doesn’t even make a dent.

I got to feeling sorry for myself. I cleared 4 garden beds (well, I cleared one, my niece cleared three) and could barely move for two days. I worked at the kitchen table because it was so much closer to the coffee machine.

Then the mass shooting in Orlando put things into perspective. I live my life in pain. Some live their lives in fear. Fear of things like that slimy little turd in Orlando.

And their fear is as real as my pain, but a lot harder to fix. Morphine wouldn’t touch it on its best day.

Most of you don’t know this, but I had a foster child in the late 80’s, early 90’s. He was high school age, failing, depressed, suicidal, and GAY. Also a gorgeous person of colour.

He was being bullied so badly at school that he’d been moved from foster home to foster home because of his anger and depression. (Way to really help these kids, Asshats!)

So I got him. I adored him at first sight. By the time he aged out of the system, he was happy, creative, and had a scholarship to university. What did I do that was so incredibly different?

I accepted him.  After all, who he loves is none of my concern as long as I show him it’s safe to love. Where he puts his dick is none of my business EVER.  (Unless his partner is abusive, in which case I try to help him get the strength to leave, but that story is none of your business.)

He’s now a strong, loving, beautiful man. He supports himself, owns his own home, has a wonderful partner, acts and sings on stage, and probably still lives in fear.

It breaks my heart. And terrifies me.  My son used to go to bars all the time when he was in his 20’s. He rocked that dance floor! And any of those fun-loving people out for a few drinks could have been him.

None of them were a threat to to anybody, none of them were doing anything but enjoying a night out. I look at their eager, happy photos and cry for the loss of so many lights. So many shining ones snuffed out, into darkness.

I’ve seen a couple of people celebrating their deaths. Do that anywhere I can see you and blocked will be the nicest thing to happen to you. Excuse me while I go write an execution or something, pretending it’s one of those small-minded, foul-mouthed cretins.

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My beautiful, happy boy.

So, it’s been long two weeks.  Maybe a long month, I’ve lost track.

I went to New Brunswick on May 8th to help my mom with the last preparations for her wedding, meeting her groom for the first time. Eh, he’s OK, better treat her right, I know what he looks like now.

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This is the first kiss!

He seems to be a little selfish, but then again he was single for at least 10 years, he may not be used to thinking of other people. My sweetie showed him how a confident man treats women: with respect and spoiling them at the same time.  The size of your manhood is not determined by whether you ask others if they want something when you go out for coffee. Nor is it diminished by doing what she asks you to, especially if you are gluten intolerant and have IBS and she wants you to stop with the fracking donuts!

We fixed up the house, made endless cakes and bought tons of snacks and paper plates. The reception was at Mom’s house. I got to see all her brothers and sisters, some I haven’t seen in over 5 years. It was great.  So was spending time with friends in person instead of just FB messenger.

The long and short of it is that I was exhausted and out of spoons by the time we started home on the 18th. Thank Gods we got to overnight at a friend’s, the 6 hour drive that day was more than enough.

So, that was last week, the weekend included two friends birthday parties. This week was a train wreck.And it’s not over yet.

I had an appointment for an mri on tuesday, arrived at 7am to find that it was booked for 730PM! Unfortunately, all the walking to and from my non-existent appointment made me too sore to hang around for 12 hours or the real appt. Rebooked for June 20th. And time CONFIRMED.

Doctor appointment on Wednesday to followup on a problem. Calendar says 130pm, went on time. WRONG. It had been rescheduled for 9am and I was too tired to check my phone messages on Tuesday. Rebooked for next week.

Went to see dear friends for dinner, started a migraine. Frack!

Home today and my house looks like we were attacked by mad bombers while we were away. But the TV is still here, so it’s our mess. I put African chicken in the 4l crock, and hambones and water into the 15l one. Then started trying to clean up.

Ever had one of those days where you can’t do A until B is done, can’t finish B until C is done and can’t do C until A is done? Yeah, that. I want chocolate and a nap.

And the house is still a disaster.  I’m supposed to go to my writers assoc meeting tonight and pay my dues.  Sigh….