Mermaid Tales

Writing: To Shine or Not to Shine

2009-10-07T12:20:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I posted anything on my own writing. Partly because I'm in a slow stage and partly because well, I guess because I've been plugging at one story for a bit and revisiting an old novel. Earlier this year I polished up the long running story (long running in that it took me 15 years to write) and sent it off to the Shine anthology being edited by Jetse de Vries in the Netherlands.

It's an intriguing anthology because the point is that the future is bright, not the dystopian worlds so often shown in SF and fantasy, and especially in short stories. The subgenre (or maybe getting back to the grassroots genre) of "mundane SF" looks at the world within the next 50 years, on our planet (mostly) and with a possible, believable extrapolation of future science and technologies. No bug-eyed aliens, no extra worlds or space-faring races.

For Jetse's anthology, he also wanted a future world that was better than this one. My world starts out worse but with a hopefully uplifting future, so it didn't fit. But there have been discussions of late, on the SF Canada writers' list, as well as at Worldcon about all the dystopian SF that's being written. How, some editors were asked, do you get people to write something uplifting that takes place in the near future?

A good question and I think one reason we are writing so much dystopian fiction is because of the inundation our culture receives of news stories about the terror and horror and pollution and the fall of civilization. In some ways, today is no worse than it was fifty years ago. In other ways, it is worse. There are more pollutants, more severe forms of crime (even if there is less crime), more illnesses and allergies. Or is there? Some yes, but we have 24-hour news channels, and as they say, no news is good news.

With the constant fear-mongering, the visuals of graphic crimes, the devastating natural disasters, the "wars on terror" we find our mindset dwelling on THE END, or the present and how to survive it. We have no faith of a good future. We have no pretense that there will be endless resources. We'll run out of water, oil, food and space. So how indeed do we write utopian fiction?

This discussion and Jetse's comment to me has got me thinking. My own fiction is often dark but not always. Yet I've never sold the two humorous pieces I've written, but then they're fantasy more than SF. Still, part of bringing our future, our tangible world to a brighter place is to not succumb to the gloom and despair but to hope and work towards a dream, not a nightmare. I'll consider this as I write some of my future fiction.

So with that in mind, Jetse de Vries is planning some contests for the pre-release of his anthology, Shine. Here is what he said:

Shine is slated for an early 2010 release, and until that time I will keep
several features (‘Optimistic SG around the World’, ‘Music that Makes You Feel
Optimistic’, etc.) running on the Shine blog, while adding new
ones.
First, I will be running a number of stories that came very close, but
didn’t make the final cut for a variety of reasons (I’ve tried to walk the
tightrope of getting maximum quality while also obtaining great variety in tone,
content, characters and setting). This to promote Shine and optimistic SF
in general. I’ll probably be setting up a new site for that.

Second, I will be holding a competition where people need to guess the
correct ending of a certain paragraph—choosing from four alternatives: three
bogus, one real—and this for 16 paragraphs, each from one of the 16
accepted Shine stories. Extra points for guessing who the author is. I’m
working on interesting prizes. Depending on the actual launch date
of Shine, I intend to hold this competition in November or December
2009.

Jetse de VriesEditor, SHINE anthology & OUTSHINE Twitterzine

OUTSHINE guidelines: http://shineanthology.wordpress.com/outshine-submission-guidelines/
Shine: http://shineanthology.wordpress.com/ Personal
blog: http://eclipticplane.blogspot.com/

Candy of an Era Past

2009-06-02T12:37:00.000-07:00

It's sunny and finally like spring out there and who wants to think. So I decided instead to write about candy.

I think that since I was a child candy has changed but I wouldn't say there is more variety. Maybe some but overall there are just more chocolate bars, all a confection involving chocolate and nuts or chocolate and wafers. A few exceptions are the Lowney's Eat More bar, molasses and nuts (okay so nuts are also a big part). I loved the Eat More's for their chewiness. Over the years I think the nut content went down some and the chewiness lessened.

The coolest items were these wax thumbs or lips. They were made of some sort of soft parafin wax (probably cancerous for all we knew) and filled with a sweet juice. You would bite into the wax and suck out the juice and often chew the wax, sometimes with the juice in your mouth so it would mix together. Maybe I swallowed the wax and maybe I spit it out; I don't remember but it was sort of like a chewier bubble gum.

Gum itself hasn't changed a lot. Different flavors, soft, hard, coated like a gumball, a stick like Wrigley's or filled with jelly. Oooh, gold mine gum (gold nuggets in a cloth bag) and bubble gum cigars (pink, green and yellow). Most of these still exist as do jawbreakers. I think there was less of what I would call the adult gums then except for Wrigley's, and that particular brand I haven't seen in a while. If it's still made they don't seem to come in the stick packages like they used to. But then, I don't like chewing gum much anymore because some types stick to my crown and the texture is...meh.

We used to be able to get packs of candy cigarettes (also gum cigarettes) but I think they were discontinued as being politically incorrect. There were two types, one at least had Popeye on the pack. The one type had almost a slightly fruit flavor and more chalky in texture though not chalky in flavor (akin to but not as acidic as candy necklaces) and I preferred it. The other was a harder, shinier white candy with a red tip. It was crunchier but not as flavorful.

There was also this long (like a ruler) flat piece of taffy or nougat, usually in the Neapolitan colors/flavors of vanilla, strawberry and chocolate. Something else was stringy and I have visions of pulling off the strings of sugary goodness but I have no idea what it was. There were of course various licorices, including black licorice pipes and cigars, and strawberry shoestrings, which somehow tasted the best. And Necco wafers (still available in the US), each color tasting differently. The purple (lavender?) and black (licorice) and brown (chocolate) were the best. And of course there were Cracker Jacks, carmelized popcorn with a prize inside. But even better, Pink Elephant popcorn, sweet and pink and with some sort of cool prize.

Those were the corner store variety of candies. Oddly I really don't remember the chocolate bars. There were still candy counters in the department stores like The Bay and Sears and Eaton's. Chicken bones were peanut butter flavored, crunchy candies. Jordan almonds were nearly hard enough to crack teeth with the hard sugar coating. I was never big on jellies, jujubes or gumdrops but there were these orange and lemon slices, gumdroppy, sugared and with a rind like the real fruit but just harder sugar. The best part of these was that they had a tang like the real fruit. In later years they degenerated to just being sweet. And there were the little ice cream cones with a marshmallow in them.

Once in a while you can still find these things in a larger supermarket but they're getting rarer. Which makes me believe we're getting down to just varieties of chocolate bars. There are still chocolate shops, and a few more than there used to be. My favorite chocolate memory was of these Easter eggs my mother would give us. They were about the size of my hand, decorated in hard, sugar icing and when cracked open, had about four or five real chocolates in them. They were made by a chocolatier in Calgary and they were beautiful. I've seen some mass produced versions of late but they're not the same.

Many of the corner store items still might exist. There is one store (with two locations) in Vancouver called the Candy Aisle. They specialize in nostalgic candy though sadly I don't see most of the ones I remember. http://www.candyaisle.com/index1.html And one aspect of nostalgia that's long gone is cost. Ahhh, the confections of yesteryear.

India Travel: Removing Masks

2009-05-06T10:17:00.000-07:00

Years ago, I traveled in India for two months. The first month was in Meghalaya, a Himalayan tribal state in the northeast corner of India. I was there with my friend, a native Khasi of Meghalaya. (I'll talk about Meghalaya some other time.) The second month I set out on my own, traveling to India and Nepal.

The hard journey began almost immediately. Because the Meghalayans were fighting with the Assamese (and because the plane out of Meghalaya, Vayudoot Airlines, was too scary to fly again) I had to take a bus into neighboring Assam. It was a very long, hot bus ride where we passed a crowd on the road standing near the stiffening corpse of man who had been hit by a car (I presume) and was bloating in the hot sun.

Hours later I arrived at the airport where of course the plane ran on Indian time and was over three-hours late. I had left in the morning but by the time I got into Calcutta, not that far really, it was early evening. I had a Lonely Planet guide and used it to find quality and affordable hotels. Except they were all full. I tried several places, each less reputable than the last, until I finally found a place. It was dirty, there were so many cockroaches that I slept with the lights on and the water sprayed from the tap at a 45 degree angle. I was completely dehydrated by the time I got into this hotel and asked the staff for some boiled water. They brought it and it was suspiciously lukewarm. I added iodine (this was before they had perfected cheap and easy to carry water purification kits or tablets) but I had to drink it.

Sure enough, three days later began the fall into dysentery and three weeks of traveling to go. Skipping forward, I was back in Delhi and sick as a dog, puking or hanging my butt over a toilet. I spent a lot of my time laying in bed in the hostel, too sick to eat and tired. But I decided one day to go to the Red Fort I believe. It's been a while and it may have been some other edifice.
Having now been in India long enough to know you had to ask specific questions and bargain, I made a deal with a motorized rickshaw driver (there were bicycle and foot rickshaws as well). We agreed on the price and I said, "That's for both ways, right?" He agreed, but when he dropped me off at the fort he asked, "How long are you going to be?" I shrugged lethargically and said maybe a couple of hours or so. And off I went.

You walk a gamut of merchants at the entry of the place and I was looking in this one shop when this merchant reached out and grabbed my breast. I was too sick and shocked to do more than look and walk away. I should have slugged him. But I saw the fort, took pictures and left a couple of hours later. When I get outside there is my rickshaw driver and he starts yelling at me about the length of time. We argued as I said this is what we had agreed to. I had told him I didn't know for sure how long I would be, etc. etc. However, there were about another ten drivers standing around all staring at me, arguing in both languages. I felt intimidated by the pressure so pulled out half the fee for the one-way trip and threw it at the guy, stalking off to find a bicycle rickshaw driver.

I agreed to a price with him and got in, completely dissolute by the experience. I didn't look at anything and just sat there in a distant haze. Only motorized vehicles were allowed around Connaught Place, the giant traffic circle (with many lanes from many directions) in New Delhi. Around the outer circle were stations for the other rickshaw drivers to drop off their clients. I paid and despondently got out of the rickshaw. As I trudged away I heard, "Mems'ib, mems'ib." I turned back and there was the original rickshaw driver with the police.

At that point I didn't think about the corrupt Indian system and paying baksheesh or about the lies this guy had told. I freaked out. I started screaming at all three of them, walking up with my wrists together saying, go ahead take me away. You're trying to keep me here and who knows what other delirium was going on. Keep in mind that I was very sick and had been traveling with an overloaded backpack and a bag and a carpet (another long story) for three weeks. I was way beyond my normal comfort zone. I cried and screamed and then pulled all of the cash out of my wallet, threw it at the men and then went and sat on a wall and cried. Actually I bawled.

At one point the rickshaw driver came back and put my change beside me. I don't know if he had an attack of conscience or if the police kept him honest. I didn't care. I cried and cried and have no idea how long I sat there. At one point I heard a timid, "Mems'ib," again. When I looked up there were about six men looking at me, concerned. One asked, "What is wrong?"
I cried out something like, "nothing,you're country is trying to keep me here," etc. I was at the end of two months and heartily tired of trying to fend on my own which had not been easy in many ways. Eventually, I wandered back to the hostel where I was staying.

Before I got there a beggar came up and touched my arm, looking up at me with wide eyes. This was a child of maybe 12. Now I had already been told by my friend, and observed, that no one touches another in public in India. Actually no man will touch a woman and strangers do not touch. She had said if someone touches you, it's a sign of disrespect. After the illness, the breast grabbing, the fight with the rickshaw driver, the police and my general lack of coping by this point, I sobbed at this poor beggar, "Oh just go die, it's easier."

Yes, I told a beggar to die, because at that point it's what I wanted to do. It was perhaps the ugliest aspect of my personality and was one aspect of a life-changing journey. Before I went to India, I had this group of friends and that group of friends. I had the calm me, the conservative me, the partying me, the studious me, etc., and very few saw all of me. Like many people in our culture, I had my masques for different occasions.

Between the dysentery, the overloaded packs and the very different culture of India and their way of dealing with time and communication, I ran out of coping mechanisms. I was stripped down to my essential self. When I returned to Canada and was at some point telling a friend about my journey, she said, "Yeah, you're more accessible now." After that, everyone pretty much got the same me, amalgamated for good or ill, with fewer masques.

India was a very hard journey into my self, where I learned many valuable lessons about culture, environment, people and life. The biggest lesson was about me. I would still recommend that everyone travel to a third world country if the can. It is an eye opener and truly shows many of us how privileged we are where even conservation can be a luxury. But those are tales for another time.

Swine Flu? Pigs Fly

2009-04-29T15:29:00.000-07:00

Okay, that's a little joke but I think we need to keep a few things in perspective when it comes to the spreading fear of swine flu. Fear is spreading faster than the flu and though it is a serious enough illness, it should be treated with level headedness, not paranoia.

If the media had existed in its current form in the 14th century when the Black Plague first reared its deadly head, probably more people would have died from fear, from fear mongering, from ostracizationthan those already high numbers. The Black Death killed an estimated 30-60% of Europe's population, decimating society and economy for many years to come. Some 75 million people are believed to have died from the bubonic plague.

These days, we may not get to those numbers because medical care is better. Yet we might get to higher numbers because there are far more people than Europe in the Middle Ages. And many cities are overcrowded, not to mention that many nations still have poor levels of sanitation and health. An estimated 500,000 people die yearly from seasonal flus. Mexico City has 22 million people but the flu has shown in a few other areas of Mexico as well as in Texas. Still, there are only 7 confirmed deaths by the WHO as of yesterday.

That's not many yet. In fact, 150 people out of a population of 110 million is a pretty small percentage. We do have to be cautious but not crazed. People aren't getting these from pigs, no matter what the name indicates. Eating pork won't make a difference. However, one thing that humans learned over the centuries that cut down on the spread of disease and infection was that cleanliness makes a difference.

We've moved out of the polite era, when everyone was taught manners, coughed and sneezed into handkerchiefs, washed behind their ears and washed their hands because parents instilled it into their kids. We've become lackadaisical in this modern, free age, but what you can't see can indeed hurt you. When it comes to hygiene we must still be diligent.

Here's the best thing to do to avoid swine flu, any flu or illness in general: wash your hands well, often, and with soap and water. Cover your mouth with your arm or a tissue if you cough. Use tissues for your nose. Wipe down surfaces with disinfectant. If you cough or sneeze, don't do it on others. Wash your hands often. Don't kiss pigs.

Usually influenzas hit the very young and the very old. So far, this flu has killed men in the 25-40 (or 50) age range for some reason. Tomorrow I fly to LA. I'm not worried. After all, I'm healthy. I don't have a compromised immune system or any illness that weakens me. My lungs (the area to worry about most) are very strong. I'm not flying to Mexico. Even all the people that the flu infects each year do not die from it. Planes are very good incubators of infections/colds in general. A closed space with a lot of people. It's best to be vigilant about hygiene whenever flying.
There have been questions why the mortality rate would be higher in Mexico than elsewhere. If it's Mexico City, well, there are 22 million people, as I said. When I was in Mexico in the late 80s, the smog was so bad that birds were dropping out of the air and you could taste it. Add that on top of other respiratory problems and a flu that attacks the same area and it's not surprising that more people may die in Mexico City (and any other overpopulated, polluted city center) than in other cities.

Flu shots have been given for quite a few years now, optional but encouraged for the young and old. I predict we'll see more people getting flu shots this year in general. However, a viable vaccine for this current flu would take a few months to work out and perfect. If this doesn't turn pandemic, then it will have abated by then.

Symptoms are similar to other flu symptoms, fever, runny nose, coughing, sore throat, nausea, possible vomiting and diarrhea, lack of energy and appetite. Don't jump to conclusions if you develop some of these. If you have een to Mexico or in contact with someone who has, watch your symptoms, call your doctors office if you're worried, or if it is a child or elderly person who is ill. If the fever goes beyond a few degrees or you have trouble breathing, then you will probably want to get checked out. Children and the elderly are always at risk. Eating healthily, drinking plenty of water and getting adequate sleep will keep your immune system strong.

Becoming crazed with fear is a more likely way to get sick than just taking sensible precautions. And when the latest scare is over, continuing following good hygenic habits. After all, in many ways we don't want to go back to, or repeat the Middle Ages.

BC Politics: Faux Pas and Scandals

2009-04-21T10:28:00.000-07:00

Here we go again with the dirt, and dragging each candidate through the mud. Ray Lam is the latest victim of the scourge that happens before every campaign. And since BC is gearing up to the provincial election on May 12, and because Campbell's Conservatives in Liberal clothing have a race for their money, they're digging deep. Of course, this goes for any side; mudslinging is becoming far too common.

So Ray Lam is the latest victim, who somehow had Facebook photos that he thought were on privacy settings that no one could really see. The media is calling them "racy" photos and I suppose these are to a degree though no actual flesh is seen. Lam has his hand on one woman's breast and in another a man and a woman have their fingers hooked in his underwear and are peeking in or pulling them down a bit.

When I run for office I will proudly admit to and display all my naughty photos off the bat. I don't think there are any but one person's naughty is another person's tame. What I hate the most is the hypocritical prudery. Many people will claim to be open-minded (heck, what does Liberal stand for in the Liberal party) but will get all bent out of shape over some innocent antic. So some people were partying and went skinny dipping, or flashed the camera, or mooned a car, or streaked through a field, or wore a giant penis costume for Hallowe'en.

And my opinion: so what? It's obviously consensual on all people's parts. There is no violence. There are no underage people. Some people get together and pull some pranks. It's hardly out of the realm of human behaviour and pretty harmless. Whose morality runs the show?
What bugs me most is that people profess to be open-minded as long as it serves them (just what does liberal stand for in the Liberal party?) yet become indignant about supposed misdemeanours as long as the spotlight isn't on them. Did I hear correctly that the Liberal member who outed this guy's photos was asking for an apology? It should be the other way around and the Liberal member should be apologizing to Ray Lam for the untoward attention and a pretty banal thing. In fact, it matters not which party outs the other. If it's just photos like this, who really cares?

Trudeau once said, "The state has no business in the bedrooms of the nation." This goes for the parties and extracurricular activities as well. As long as a candidate or a politician is not stomping animals, playing with minors, beating people, shooting opponents, stealing, taking kickbacks and bribes, lying or otherwise breaking the law, then there shouldn't be a problem in their personal life, which should stay personal. Yes a public figure like a politician should be held to high moral standards, but only in the aspect of the law. Oh, but I forgot, one must look innocent and angelic while running for office.

Once you get in you can break the law and stay in office. Like Port Coquitlam mayor Scott Young who was convicted of two accounts of assault and breaching conditions. He stayed in office against protests of his constituents. Or let's see, Ralph Klein, ex premier of Alberta who swore at homeless people and threw money at them. Well, not exactly against the law because homeless people have no rights and never charged him. Or, oh yeah, Gordon Campbell, convicted of a drunk driving offence in Hawaii but too arrogant to step down or barely apologize.

So, other people must step down from political careers on allegations often later found to be false and unsubstantiated, and candidates have to step down for some silly photos. If the public cares, and I'm not sure we do, then it's a sad state when we get our knickers in a twist over the minor and harmless infractions, yet offenders of the big ones get rewarded with longer time in office. If we look at honesty, then Lam is more honest for not denying this than Campbell was when he tore up hospital worker contracts.

I wish the media and the politicians would stick to the business of politics and not stick their noses in everyone's personal business. No one is perfect and people do silly things. We should not all be punished for it and if it's not against the law, then don't expect godlike behaviour from mere mortals.

Do We Need Another Beauty Queen?

2009-04-15T19:40:00.000-07:00

Yesterday it was announced that there would be the first Miss Vancouver, multi-ethnic beauty pageant. Marina Hossain, is the CEO of Jam Expo Inc., which will be organizing the pageant for the Health and Beauty Expo. So first off, Canada hasn't had a Miss Canada pageant since 1992. High production costs and declining interests were the reasons given. The other part was that people just weren't interested in seeing women sashay along in a bathing suit and an evening gown, and giving their five minutes on how I hope to improve the world.

Yesterday's CBC Radio One had a pageant coordinator also mention that Canadians just aren't interested in being beauty queens, yet the ethnic beauty contests have continued. Obviously these contests do give exposure to the winner, as well as some prizes and cash. But the other reason they're not popular is become they are still sexist and based on "beauty."

So here comes Ms. Hossain with a new one that blends all ethnicities. Common ground is good but it's still a beauty pageant. In fact, Hossain says, "Some can sing, some can dance, some have a nice face. Not everybody has that. But it’s the same as any other talent, like swimming. I see it in the same line. Beauty should be appreciated, too.... Beauty is something you have to work on. You have to furnish it. It’s a talent, knowing how to keep up with your body and health. Plus the natural talent you’re blessed with."

A talent? Right. Being beautiful is a talent like having a well working heart, or two good eyes. You're born with it or you're not. Being born with something is not a talent. Some people have natural abilities in drawing or running but it still takes work to be good at and maintain a consistent level of talent. Beauty I guess can also be maintained: eat healthy, exercise, sleep properly. But then there is always botox, and silicone and plastic surgery to make one beautiful. That's a talent for those with money.

Hossain thinks beauty is a legitimate female talent. Wow! Why not have a beauty pageant for flowers then? Beauty, where the winner will be crowned with a tiara. Like a true Disney princess world in which Hossain wants to perpetuate the aspect of women being pretty trophies.

Contestants will be judged on the health of their skin, hair, fitness level, etc. They will get to parade along in white T-shirts and jeans, evening gowns and ethnic wear. Swimsuits may yet happen. So someone like me, born in Canada to Canadian parents, whose ethnic grandparents died early and didn't pass on their cultural motifs for Italian and Danish ethnic/rural clothing would wear something decidedly...Canadian. Like jeans, or Birkenstocks, or cowboy boots, or a shirt, or... Hmm, I wonder how the judges will like that ethnic dress. But I'm sure they'll be fair...in judging who's most beautiful in their ethnic wear.

It makes me wonder if someone, a woman who is sturdy, perhaps small hipped but barrel chested, thick through the shoulders but with amazing skin, lovely hair and who exercises four times a week could ever win, even if her attributes were better than her slimmer opponents. Especially if she had a bulbous nose and squinty eyes but was the nicest person you ever met, with intelligence and compassion for all. Would she win? I'm guessing, not.

While other pageants in recent years had to disguise the parading of female flesh with humanitarian works and community work, this is hardly mentioned up front. It's all about the talent of beauty. Here is rule # 7 in the requirements:

7. Candidates will not be permitted to have any body art or body piercing that is visibly offensive.

Hmm, visibly offensive. I'm sorry, ma'am, your botox lips are visibly offensive. Excuse me sir, your balding head is visibly offensive. Why you, your height is visibly offensive. That leaves a lot to interpretation but then Ms Hossain and her judges get to be the judge of that. Just hope you figure it out before you send in your $138 nonrefundable registration fee. Oh and you have to be in good health and not have any medical problems. Is that fair under the human rights code? Well probably since they're making it for young women 18-28 who can never have been married. I wonder if they want them to be virgins too.

But perhaps I'm being harsh about this vapid throwback to stereotypical pageants that promote the objectifying of women. I'd believe more that this was something new and great if it wasn't a promotional gimmick for the expo. I'd believe it had altruism at its heart if there had been any mention about what the women are expected to bring to the world and community. Sure, that might help decide but it's obviously not the thrust. I'd believe this was for a more balanced and less genderist idea if it included men and didn't have the Disney princess tiara.

Unfortunately I find it hard to believe in or support this trophy girl award. There is a good reason that Canadians don't want to enter such bigoted pageants.

http://www.jamexpo.ca/RULES-MAY2009.pdf

http://www.jamexpo.ca/vancouver.php?pageid=29

http://www.straight.com/article-212939/beauty-talent-says-organizer-new-miss-vancouver-pageant

Amoxycillin and Me

2009-04-10T11:50:00.000-07:00

About ten years ago I had a sore throat that wouldn't go away after a month and a half. So I went to the doctor and she prescribed amoxycillin. It's a particular form of the cillins, like penicillin. Before that I never had had a problem with penicillin but also hadn't had any in years.

I proceeded to take the medication and a few days later when friends were visiting I was feeling feverish and having trouble breathing. That eventually passed a day later but I started to break out in a rash. The rash proceeded to hives, which proceeded to cover my entire body.

I went to the doctor and for whatever reason she thought I had the Australian flu, a particular virulent version going around that year. I continued to take the medication. I now was itching head to foot, slathering myself in calamine and welting up. I couldn't brush my teeth or hair, wash my face, touch any part of my body without giant welts forming. I was a mess and scared.

The Thursday night (everything had started the previous Saturday/Sunday) I could feel welts in my throat and on my gums. I asked a friend to call me in the morning because I was afraid I wouldn't wake up. In the morning, luckily I did, but things were not getting better. I called my doctor's and burst into tears. I went in (the third visit that week) and she gave me an epinephrine shot. Unfortunately I overreact to epinephrine with racing heart, numbness and tunnel vision so she could only give me half a shot.

The shot worked for about a half and hour and then everything continued, so I went back in that afternoon. My doctor sent me over (rushed me in) to the dermatologist's who asked me about five questions and said I was having a severe drug reaction. He put be on one drug to stop the itching and prednisone to stop the hives and welts.

The problem with the anti-itch drug was that it makes one eat and crave carbohydrates more. The problem with prednisone, a steroid, is that it puts weight on you. Because prednisone takes over for one's adrenal glands a person cannot quit it right out. Doses must be tapered down so that the adrenal function comes back on. People can die from stopping prednisone cold turkey or screw their adrenaly systems permanently.

It took three weeks for my symptoms to go away. In the process of taking the prednisone I put on 40 pounds in a month, became very round and puffy and grew sideburns. My face was as round as the moon and I got something like zits but closer to cysts on my body. My nails grew longer and straighter than they ever had done and the stuff kept me out of the hospital. It gave me an appreciation for asthmatics who must use prednisone to breathe and the weight problems they must then deal with.

It took about 6 weeks to two months to be tapered off of the drugs. And once off I lost all the weight relatively fast. I also did a four-day juice fast as soon as the drugs were gone. Growing up with an eating disorder had left its mark and the way I was eating while on prednisone scared me. Luckily the eating disorder didn't resurface.

Unfortunately I was left with some long term and permanent affects of prednisone and amoxycillin. I can no longer take any of the cillins for fear of an adverse reaction. I've run into other people who have had severe reactions from amoxycillin and I would caution against it. It contributed directly to the illness of my cat and subsequently his death months later. He had a persistent ear infection and the drug nearly killed him. I stopped it because he wasn't eating or drinking and was vomiting. I forced water into him but his kidneys were damaged and six months later my very robust cat was dead from cancer. There is no proof that the cancer came from the amoxycillin but he never fully recovered from the amoxycillin.

Prednisone also permanently changed me. My hair had always been bone straight like the rest of my family's. Now it has a medium wave throughout. I have spots on my body where there had been cysts from the prednisone and they will swell up from time to time. I had, before prednisone, been sensitive to dairy, couldn't eat oats or lentils, and couldn't drink grape juice. That was it.

Afterwards, I began to develop itchy red patches on my face, neck and arms. Eventually I had to go to my doctor about this and she sent me to an allergist who was a research doctor. This doctor told me that many food allergies cannot be tested with just the scratch test because if you're affected by eating, surface areas do not accurately reflect this. I tried a few different diets and we found that I was reacting to foods that contained histamines. So those old cysts would swell up when I had too much and eczema would develop (which is now a chronic condition for me).

Some foods that contain natural histamines are: citrus fruits, all seafood, caffeine, dairy (cheeses, milk, cream, etc.) including whey, casein, milk solids and lactose, eggs, tomatoes, eggplant, pumpkin, spinach, vinegars and fermented foods, alcohols, preservatives such as sodium benzoate, sulphites, sulphates, tartrazine, prepared meats like bacon, salami, sausages, soy and red beans. There may be a few other categories but those are what I remember off the top of my head. And you can be sensitve to some but not all.

The elimination and testing period are long and tedious and I could never stay on it long enough to test everything. But some foods became self evident, such as when I eat vinegar or an orange and get itchy immediately, breaking out in a rash and possibly suffer from diarrhea. I may welt if the citrus touches my skin. I'll get eczema as well. I'm not just sensitive to dairy now but will bloat, get stomach aches, bags and dark circles under my eyes, and break out--a full allergy.

And in the past year, my once hugely annoying eczema has progressed into rosacea but I'll talk about that another day. Needless to say this is a cautionary tale about amoxycillin and prednisone and just some fo the things that can go wrong.

Scary Tales About Cockroaches

2009-04-03T10:05:00.001-07:00

I got to thinking about cockroaches the other day, probably because the news mentioned that some of Vancouver's apartment buildings are becoming infested with bed bugs. No matter how you cut it bugs are just creepy. They make our skin crawl, sometimes literally. They're the most alien of the animal kingdom (besides bacteria, whatever the heck they are) that we can see. And theories are that should there be a nuclear holocaust it's the insects that would survive. In fact, comparing populations, there are 12 times more insects in the world than the total of human beings (and we're at 6 billion). It's a sobering thought and a good thing that most of them are small.

Most places have cockroaches but unless you're living in a dirty building or particularly slovenly, you may never see them. I've never seen a cockroach in Vancouver and only saw a small thumb-sized one in Seattle once. They prefer warm and dark places, with fecund garbage. In colder climes, that means moving indoors where you and I might be.
They leave scents in their feces and pheromone trails so that their buddies can find them. Once you have one, you're likely to have a whole gang. Cleanliness, wiping up food spills, vacuuming are ways to stop cockroaches from moving in but once they're in, they're extremely difficult to eradicate.

The buggers are tough. Supposedly a decapitated cockroach can survive for several weeks before dying of dehydration or starvation. I take it that's the body and not the head. They live about a year and can produce 300-400 offspring or more. Some species only need to be fertilized once to produce for the rest of their lifetimes. They're so hardy that they can take 6-15 times the radiation of a human but would possibly still not survive nuclear war, though they'd fare better than fleshy humans.

They can live a month or so without water, longer without food, be deprived of air, frozen or immersed in water and can recover. They aren't slimy but like many insects we don't enjoy touching them. Many humans have a natural revulsion. Cockroaches do have a couple of natural enemies; other insects. Certain wasps and centipedes will attack them but if you were trying to get rid of them, you would then just have a new pest to deal with.

I have really only encountered the creepy crawlies twice. Once was in Mexico, in Taxco. I was on an open restaurant veranda, having a drink with someone. A cat was wandering amongst the patrons. I thought it was the cat rubbing against my leg but when I looked down there was a cockroach on my leg. I jumped up and stomped so that it dropped. The waiter and my friend both stomped on the three-inch long cucaracha and it just kept running, right over the balcony.
Later I was in Cuernavaca. The adjoining bathroom to my room had two cockroaches hanging out on the ceiling. I was freaked out by this and tried to close the door, though it wouldn't shut completely. They never moved but I kept a wary eye on them.

The other time was in Calcutta. Every hotel I tried was full and I was looking at worse and worse accommodations to stay in. Finally I found a place. It was rife with cockroaches so I slept with the lights on to keep them at bay. It also had fleas (or maybe bed bugs) and I slept in my own sleeping bag though it was hot and humid, to save my flesh. (I also got dysentery from that place.) They weren't as big as the Mexican cockroach had been but they were more prevalent.
Thankfully, I've had no more experiences with cockroaches. I share that human abhorrence of things many legged. Sometimes it's fascinating to watch how an insect works but at a distance, not up close and personal and in your home.

You're So Vain

2009-03-26T14:43:00.000-07:00

Vanity. It's usually said in disparaging ways, that a vain person is a bad thing. And is it? The dictionary says it is conceit, or having an excessively high regard for one's self, looks, possessions or ability. Arrogance is related with its overbearing pride or self-importance.

The worst case of vanity and arrogance I ever saw was a boyfriend who believed that every time a woman talked to him, even if she was asking him the time, was because she wanted him. He believed everyone loved him and that he knew things no one else knew, had experienced events that no one else had ever experienced. But he was more arrogant than vain though it's a slim line between the two.

A person who is extremely vain is often a narcissist, stuck in self-love and importance, appearance or abilities. They're more concerned with how they look and what they do, than the world, people or events around them. They're given to talking about themselves a lot. Like the joke goes, "Enough about me. What do you think about me?" And Carly Simon's song (You're so Vain) of course frames it well, "You had one eye in the mirror as you watched yourself go by..."

I once dated a narcissist. Later, "as friends" we got together for coffee. Jon talked about his job, his family, his dog. He paused and there was silence since I had decided to let him be the first to ask how I was. I'd asked him about himself, his job, etc. but never once did he actually ask me anything about what I was doing, not even "how are you?". After the pause, he talked about his love life, his place, himself. When we left, Jon had not asked me a thing. I could have had kittens and he wouldn't have known. Not a great person to date.

Narcissists may go farther with their self-importance and date people who look like them. I remember a girl in school who once said, "I only read books where the character has the name Laura." Guess what her name was? These are the worst aspects of vanity, self-involvement, where perspective centers only on self, believing one is always the best and that no one can compare.

But not all vanity is bad. The opposite end is humility, yet false humility is another form of vanity, where you extol the virtues of being humble in a way that makes you look better than anyone else for sacrificing so much.

Taking care of your appearance beyond simple grooming is caring about how you look and is a vanity. Does a hairstyle or particular color look better on you? Do you wear wrinkled clothes or items in a dirty or slovenly manner? Do you take pride in your appearance? Do you try to stay in shape, not just to feel better, but to look better?

It is not wrong to feel pride or feel good about how you look. In fact, someone who doesn't care at all may have other emotional problems like low self-esteem or depression. It's the absence of balance that is always the problem. Talk about how you look but then notice how the other person looks. Talk about what you've been doing but give a person fair share in time and show interest. There are people who can't start conversations because they don't know how to ask a question about someone else. They expect everyone to ask about them and they can go on.

Sometimes it isn't so much vanity as the person may lack some social aspects, learning only to talk about what they know, sometimes incessantly. Chatterboxes can put you to sleep because they don't allow anyone to get an word in or interact. They may be narcissist or vain or just inept on the nuances of conversation.

We all have moments when we want the attention on us. It's human nature to want to feel special, to shine at some aspect of our lives. But we have to share the limelight. It's all right to be selfish sometimes and say me first, or it's about me. I've been accused of making things all about me when I tried to stop a friend from physically fighting with another friend who had just slept with someone not his wife. That man accused me of making it all about me when somehow I was trying to help him save his marriage. I said, when we talked afterward, that yes, it was about me in that I was selfish and liked my friends and didn't want to see them broken up and that I wanted them happy. That's my selfishness. I have found sometimes that people will accuse someone of vanity at the weirdest times for completely unrelated things. I'm beginning to realize that this can be a misfired plea for some attention.

So if you say, "Wow, look at this poster." And your friend says, "Oh everything always has to be about you," then maybe what they're saying is, "Me, me, look at me." You may have to say, "What do you think about this poster?" People are weird and vanity tempered with humility is probably the best way to go.

Should Drugs be Legalized?

2009-02-26T09:23:00.000-08:00

This should be justified as, should recreational drugs be legalized? With Vancouver's recent spate of gangland shootings (13 in less than three weeks) this topic has come up that they're fighting over drug money. A very good supposition and though there are those that say it has to do with pot, I'm guessing there's a full gamut and the relatively cheaper marijuana is at the bottom of the list, which is topped by crack cocaine, crystal meth and heroin.

So, should drugs be legalized? Remember prohibition, when alcohol suddenly became illegal (having been drunk for years) and the religious right screaming temperance? Of course there were some legitimately good reasons for limiting alcohol intake. The Wild West gained its moniker for a good reason and the TV series Deadwood is not far off the mark, when only men came to new areas to mine gold or trap or work in lumber mills. Vancouver's own early history is so colored, with the first women in the townships being the bar girls and First Nations women, sometimes married to a lonely man.

But prohibition only meant that what people wanted now had to be procured through illegal means. The underground became more established and organized crime ran booze in from various areas. Rum runners became a common aspect of the prohibition years in the early 20th century. Prohibition did linger in that there are now certain laws around the consumption of alcohol.

Once alcohol was legalized the only way organized crime could make money off of it was to bring in far larger quantities at cheaper rates. Or say, smuggle tobacco and the far more lucrative and illegal drugs.

So yes, if we legalize all those illicit drugs, we take the cash crop away from the gangs and put it in the hands of the government. Marijuana, which is far less nasty than alcohol in its affects on humans should be legalized to save the cops time for the important issues. Like the drug addled crimes of addicts breaking into homes and cars for their next fix. They don't tend to do that on marijuana.

So let's say we legalize all drugs. The cost goes down for the drug, which takes down the cost of law enforcement and break-ins. The price of health care might be the same or might go down. It may not be as fun to take if the drug is no longer illegal. Will there still be addicted people? Yes, but maybe fewer. And they won't be as stigmatized. Well, maybe. After all, we do have alcoholics in all walks of society and there is still a stigma, but many of them hold down jobs to pay for their habits. They're less likely to be breaking into someone'shome or car with readily available and cheap liquor. Ask the lawyers and business people who are alcoholics. (Note: this is just an example of a few professions but like I said, it's in all walks of life.)

There is another aspect. Yes, it's sad to see people addicted and this often speaks to underlying problems, many of which can be tracked back to one form of abuse or another. So the money saved in crime prevention can be put towards mental health, and the cost and distribution of drugs lessens. It would take time to implement but it can work. This last aspect is that we stop controlling another person's decisions and let them be responsible to themselves. It's not perfect and we need laws with which society must function. But changing some of the laws on drugs could lessen the gang crime and the substance abuse.

Writing: Shirely Jackson Lottery

2009-02-17T11:36:00.000-08:00

Shirley Jackson once wrote a story that gained all sorts of fame, "The Lottery" as well as The Haunting of Hill House and other books. Well, now there is an actual lottery related to this author and for raising money for the awards, given to stories with a horror, psychological suspense or dark fantasy aspect. http://www.shirleyjacksonawards.org/ There is about one more week to buy tickets for this. I've bought some, hoping to get a manuscript critique. We always need outside feedback. Details are below.

Online “Lottery” to Benefit the Shirley Jackson Awards Takes place from February 9 through February 23, 2009“Lottery” tickets are $1 each and can be purchased from: http://www.shirleyjacksonawards.org/store/

Partial List of Donations to be Awarded

• From Ash-Tree Press: Collections of Sheridan Le Fanu: Mr. Justice Harbottle; The Haunted Baronet; Schalkin the Painter.
• From Laird Barron: A signed/personalized copy of his award winning short story collection, The Imago Sequence (Nightshade), plus an original piece of short fiction, in a separate, unbound manuscript.
• From Elizabeth Bear: Personally inscribed copy of The Chains That You Refuse, an out of print collection of short stories• From James Blaylock: Signed copy (by James Blaylock and Tim Powers) of The Devils in the Details (Subterranean Press)
• From Douglas Clegg: Signed copy of the Vampyricon trilogy
• From Jeffrey Ford: Keyboard used to write several novels & collections, signed by Jeffrey Ford, to the winner.
• From Neil Gaiman: Keyboard, signed by Neil Gaiman, to the winner.
• From Brian Keene: Signed galley for Scratch, his forthcoming novel
• From Nightshade Books: Limited edition of Tim Lebbon’s Light and other tales of Ruin
• From Stewart O’Nan: Signed copy of unproduced screenplay, POE
• From Paul Riddell: Carnivorous plant terrarium• From Peter Straub: A reading copy of The Skylark, Part 1, read at ICFA in Orlando 3/2008.
• Tuckerizations by Ekaterina Sedia, Laura Anne Gilman, Nick Mamatas
• Manuscript/Proposal critiques from John Douglas, Alice Turner, Beth Flesicher, Helen Atsma, and Stephen Barbara

“Lottery” Rules
Tickets will be on sale from February 9th through February 23rd, midnight, Eastern Daylight Time. The lottery will be held on February 23rd at midnight. Items will be raffled off individually. Persons may purchase as many tickets per item as desired. For example, a person may purchase ten tickets for the “ITEM” and fifty tickets for “ITEM 2.” Each ticket purchase increases your chances of winning. For example, if you purchase five tickets of the “ITEM 3” and a total of ten tickets for that item have been sold, your odds of winning are 5 out of 10.
For each item, one winner will be chosen using a computerized random number generator. The winning names and prizes will be announced on the Shirley Jackson Awards website. The donating party will mail or deliver the prize to the lucky winner.

All proceeds from the lottery go to support the Shirley Jackson Awards.
Boston, MA (February 2009) – The Shirley Jackson Awards will hold a “lottery” to raise funds for the award. This on-line event takes place from February 9, 2009 through February 23, 2009. Persons buy as many “lottery tickets” as they want in hopes of being selected the winner for any of an array of donated prizes from well-known authors, editors, artists, and agents.

Dark & Scary: Bathrooms

2009-01-23T11:35:00.000-08:00

Restaurateurs, wherever you are, learn this lesson. No matter how dreamy, retro, romantic, funky or sporty your restaurant, pub or lounge, one thing you do not want ever, and I mean ever, is a dark and scary bathroom. Maybe guys like pissing in the dark, though I doubt it because their aim is never that good, but women really don't.

When I was a teenager, in high school, the janitors went on strike. I didn't have the opportunity to see what state the boys' bathroom ended up in but reports were the girls' was the worst. And it was more disgusting than a pigsty, which really is just pigs wallowing in mud (and maybe some other organic matter). The girls stopped short of wiping their butts and throwing it on the floor but used tampons and sanitary napkins were spread far and wide.

It was truly appalling. It our me-me-me culture, women are as bad as men. There are those women who don' t like to sit on a toilet seat because of germs or because someone sprinkled on the seat, so they squat above. Some also come from cultures where squat toilets are the norm. However, some of these squatters spray everywhere because there is a larger space in which their non-aim can go. Unlike guys, we don't have a hose to direct.

I think half of these people leave the bathroom stall, having flushed, but not wiping the seat, because they didn't touch it, or they don't care and are ignorant of other people's use. Sometimes it is the toilet's fault where the water splashes up when the toilet is flushed. In either case, I tend to check and wipe the seat before I leave. After all, I try to leave the toilet how I would like to have it found.

When I enter any sort of public/restaurant bathroom, I always check for toilet paper and then put some down on the seat. The few times I haven't checked, thinking I'm safe I've had the misfortune of sitting in a wet spot and there is nothing more disgusting than sitting in another person's urine. Ick!

So bright lights for the toilets are tantamount. Romantic mood lighting doesn't help there, nor when a woman is trying to fix her make-up. Glaringly bright fluorescents that give people green-tinged skin and makes them look like zombies is not optimal but I would take it over the dark and scary toilet.

One of the worst in Vancouver, was Waazubee's on Commercial. It's cramped with dark blue walls, doors that rarely close right and just too dark. Time for a reno, Bennie. (I was in there last week and they've changed it to track lighting...yay!)

Of course the scariest toilets were when I was in Asia. Singapore had modern, flush toilets, but they were squat toilets. There was a hole in the floor (porcelain, mind you) with metal footprints on either side showing you where to put your feet, as well as which direction to face (it wasn't always easy to tell). Being a big of a benevolent tyranny, they also had very large signs posted about the fines people would receive for not flushing. It was something like $50-100.

That was the luxury in the predominantly Asian squat toilet. Some were a horrific combo, such as the porcelain bowl, absolutely filthy and stained, but with no seat. You had to squat halfway and that was harder than squatting to the floor. And try it with dysentery, not sure if you're going to puke or have diarrhea or both. Yeah, that was way too much fun.

Then there was the long, unlit tunnel behind some ramshackle cinder block and brick building. You ducked and duckwalked in, past a tattered sheet hung on a string, and squatted over a runnel with some water trickling through. Fetid does not describe the odor in the hot Indian sun.
The experience of using a squat toilet on the Indian trains was something else. There was a bar to hang onto as you watched the tracks beneath the hole. As well, you're swaying to and fro, which helps little with hitting that hole. Imagine trying to hold a skirt up, squatting and hanging on and then having to use toilet paper. That was a very interesting problem.

In Mexico City the toilets were usually brightly lit but few of them flushed. This wasn't long after a big earthquake and their water table is notoriously low. If you didn't bring your own toilet paper you had to pay some matronly senora for paper, by the square. But the worst was that because the toilets weren't flushing, you did your business in them but you put all paper in an open garbage can beside them. Imagine the smell in the heat of Mexican summer. Not exactly pleasant, and very very disgusting.

So, in retrospect a dark restaurant bathroom may be paradise but a lot of them could improve. The Japanese and some other European countries are big on bidets that wash and blow dry your nether regions. No paper is used and considering the number of trees we kill for toilet paper, it's not a bad solution. In India they didn't always use toilet paper either, or water. That's why it was important to always always carry your own.

Freakin Winter Wonderland Update

2008-12-22T15:51:00.000-08:00

On Friday night I decided to completely close my bedroom window. It tends to be the warmest room in the house and although I like my climes warm I like to sleep slightly cool. So I usually have my window open a crack throughout the year. It got frikkin freezing enough on Friday that I closed it.

Or tried to. But the wood is warped with the cold. All that west coast moisture that seeps into everything has now expanded as it turned to ice and I could only, mostly, close the window. Likewise, I could only partly open the door under our front stairs where the garbage is stored. Luckily it was enough to get my head and arm in to toss the offending scraps.
This morning (Saturday though technically it's 12:10 am) I washed my face and put clothes in the washer. All good, but when I went to rinse dishes in the kitchen there was no hot water. Not just water that's gone cold but no water period, though I had the cold water well enough. My earlier fear of pipes freezing had come true.

My landlord and I put a heater in the cupboard and I walked up to the drive to meet a client and do some shopping. I now have a new appreciation for what it was like living on the farm in the 1900s and having to pile wood on the stove. You'd wear tights and socks and shirts and sweaters, and shawls, piling layer on layer to just keep warm. No care to how weirdly street person like you look.

If I'd been a guy, by the end of my walk today I would have been a woman because the proverbial brass balls had fallen off the monkey. I walked so quickly (uphill) to the Drive that I sweated and pulled off my cat paw mitts, unbuttoned the top button of my melton wool coat and loosened my woven silk scarf. I kept my hat on my head but when I met my client I took off my coat, unbuttoned the sweater and took off the hat.

By the end of the meeting, before we had even left I was putting on my hat, then buttoning my sweater, then putting on my coat. The sweat had cooled on my body by the time I walked to the bank, then to the post office. Not too bad...bearable if not freezing. But then I walked down to the market, carrying the parcel and the two bottles of wine from the liquor store (it may be an economic downturn but you can't tell from the empty shelves in the store...or maybe you can). I bought veggies and began the trek home. Two blocks and my right foot was completely numb with cold.

Not to mention I'd been cold in the liquour store and never warmed up. I stopped in the chocolate store, partially to thaw. My foot was hurting by then. But I didn't mind the wait in the store. I depopsiclized. I got home and it was positively balmy in comparison. And hooray, the water was working again.

Tonight I drove to a friend's yule party in New West. Fine weather but freakin' freezing. I left at 8:30 to go to a party in Kits and it had warmed up enought to not need mitts in the car. I picked up my friends along the way and we were there by about 9:15. Just as it began to snow. That's snow on top of snow and ice, with below freezing temperatures, that we've had for a week, in Vancouver. Where it never or just barely every snows!

Guess what? Coldest day ever! in one hundred years! That means since they start recording temperatures and I guess hell has frozen over because this sure feels like hell. So now it's 12:20. I made reasonably good time though all, and I mean ALL the roads are coated with snow. Anyone driving had windows covered with snow because it was falling faster than a heater could melt it. But I made it without incident.

Hunkered down. Grinchly grumpy about the stuff I moved away from Alberta to avoid. Sad that I won't be making it to my friend's memorial tomorrow because I won't be able to get through the snow. But grateful we're whole and we all made it in one piece and that everyone was driving sanely.

Addendum: It's Sunday noon, and it's still snowing! There must be a foot by now and no end in site. I didn't order this. Waaaaaah!

T'is the Season

2008-12-02T14:50:00.000-08:00

...for gross consumerism. Once upon a time it used to be that Christmas began in December and actually meant something spiritual. (I'm picking on the Christian, sort of, holiday because I don't know if other faiths go mass market this time of year.) Then stores decided it was best to put out all the seasonally afflicted merchandise at the beginning of the month. Soon, it seemed like a smart thing to put out the holiday decorations right after US Thanksgiving. Get all the turkey, fall and feasting goods done with, then there is room on the shelves for the next festivity.

But someone decided that Thanksgiving wasn't big enough or didn't dent the shelves with related crap, so Christmas decorations and lights and cards started coming out after Hallowe'en. We're now two months before Christmas and that hasn't been enough. This year, I saw Christmas related crapola in stores in September. Soon, we'll have it year round.

This frantic marketing makes me less seasonally cheerful and downright grumpy. A festive occasion is just that, an occasion, not a year-long extravaganza. It takes the specialness of the time away when one is inundated with the same driveling songs for months, though I notice that the stores do hold off on the tunes or their employees would go postal. But seeing the ho ho ho bits and garlands and cards and hats and stockings and lights etc. really kills the feeling for me.
But what is at the root of all this? Obviously it's greed, and probably the whole fear around the economy has whipped store execs into a froth where they're pushing everything onto shelves early. Buy buy buy, more more more. Make it super duper very bright, large and festive and red and green. It's enough to make all the reindeer drink until their noses are red.

The problem is that our society is based on a consumerism that is supposed to always grow. Sell more cars, sell more clothes, sell more everything or we can't get bonuses and more money to buy more stuff. What happens when the quantity stays the same in consumer purchases? Take cars for example. You can't price them out of everyone's pocketbook, but there's another way around it. Make them so they don't last as long. A Model T Ford could run for fifty years but we're lucky now if we get cars that make it to ten years. Planned obsolescence. Printers are the same. They cost less than a hundred bucks to buy but the ink cartridges that you have to keep using (and therefore should be cheaper because of mass consumption) are $60-$80. Not because ink is that expensive but because the company has to make money. Some printers are designed to eat ink every time you turn them on so feasibly you could use up a cartridge without printing a page (I got rid of that one fairly quickly.)

What happens when we have enough, when growth stays the same? Or what happens when the baby boomers stop buying and the next gen buys less? Panic. Maybe the economy fireworks didn't have to happen right now but it was bound to happen sooner or later. I thankfully, have only worked for one company where "grow grow grow" was their motto mixed with a lack of understanding people. People left on stress leave and others were walked out the door almost regularly. I hear this company was bought by a company wich was bought by a company and that more changes are happening. I'd rather slide down razor blades into a vat of vinegar than work there again.

So be prepared. Those Boxing Day sales have become Boxing week sales and pre-Christmas/Boxing week sales. They're about to become Christmas month sales and yet there will be more and more and more stuff. Costco has mass Santa suits that you can buy for cheap. Now every little Santa will look the same. How sweet. And if you think that Santa at the North Pole is kept busy with all his elves working over time because of the mass merchandising, think again. The little fellas have been laid off to cut costs and because everything was farmed out to a third world nation where the kids get to toil for twenty hours a day. Ho ho ho, enjoy the consumerism.

Fashion Camouflage

2008-11-21T10:04:00.000-08:00

Throughout humanity's history, we've used clothes for camouflage. I'm not talking about camo gear and leaf markings on your face to hide in the shadows while carrying out some special ops espionage. Although that is the most blatant aspect of camouflage it's not the most prevalent.

Besides the basics of keeping ourselves warm, we started to wear clothing for a host of other reasons. Ritualistically, masks, accessories and robes were donned to imitate a spirit or element or to make oneself pure or sacred in the eyes of the gods. Along the way standards of modesty and morality came in to play. Genitalia are a vulnerable area on most creatures, and for humans many other connotations are attached, such as virility, power, immortality, continuance of family. Religious aspects and beliefs, as well as just hiding something mysterious and scary (a woman's womb has often been related to the underworld) combined to cover the genital areas first.

In African countries, other warm climes, and throughout periods of history, women's breasts were not always considered erogenous, and therefore did not need covering. A period of Elizabethan dress had the decolletage so low that the nipples were visible. But that is more revealing than camouflaging.

Yet, we've used camouflage to enhance our bodies for a long time. Elizabethan men wore pads of horsehair to give the right line to their calves under their hose, as well as padding to form the preferred peascod bellies. And then there were those codpieces to make the genitals look way larger than they were. Women wore corsets to slim their waists, or bustles on the backs of dresses to enhance the womanly shape. Shoes of varying heights have been worn to convey status or make a person taller.

We do the same today. Slimline jeans with no pockets to show off the curves and line of a woman's leg and hip. Padded and uplift bras to make the breasts look larger, men's underwear (and chaps) that may shape and define the genitals or butt, (some of this for gay culture but not all), tuxes or other James Bond jackets for that sophisiticated, I-have-plenty-of-money look.

Makeup, since at least the Egyptians, has also been used for enhancement or to comouflage plainness, blemishes, birthmarks, or whatever reason was required. Wigs and toupees have been worn for many centuries as status symbols, to change one's looks, to make it look like a person had hair. It's not a new thing and most people do look better in clothes because they cover up all sorts of imperfections. Fashion can highlight a person's good points, change the line that the eye follows so that a person looks taller, broader, slimmer, bustier, etc.

Until we hit the day that we have our own heat generating forcefields, have tossed vanity and modesty to the side and do not need possessions or adornment, I think humans will continue to dress in a myriad of fashions, as well as camouflaging what is not seen as the current trend and fashion for bodies and looks. The realm of phsical changes has its own history, but that's for another day. We may yet hit again a look where flat chested, twiggy and adrogynous shapes are considered sexy and then the padded bras and fitted clothing will disappear...for awhile.

World Fantasy Convention 2008: Calgary

2008-11-10T11:09:00.000-08:00

World Fantasy took place in Calgary's downtown at the Hyatt Regency Oct. 30-Nov. 1. Although the hotel had an exceptional collection of paintings and heavily focused ungulate statuary everywhere, it was still a very expensive hotel. I haven't been in a hotel in the US in the past five years that charged for internet and $1 for local calls. Internet cost $14 a day, an exorbitant fee, and the hotel price was high even at convention rates. We found Calgary pricey for food but cheap for alcohol, if you were buying it in stores but comparably priced to Vancouver in the hotel.

The con hospitality suites were smaller than I have seen at other cons and the air conditioning (hardly needed in Oct. in Calgary) was on high for most of the convention. The dealers room and art show were also small. From one discussion with a Seattle antiquarian dealer, the hoops and paperwork besides shipping costs are prohibitive and discourage international exchanges. The dealers room did have an interesting array of publishers. Some of them were Redjack, Fitzhenry/Red Deer Press, Tachyon, Edge, Talebones/Fairwood Press, OnSpec, Electric Velocipede, SFC table of members' work, Sunburst awards, used and new booksellers, and other dealers that I don't remember off hand.

The dealers room used to feature books and some jewellery. This is a professional convention of editors, publishers and authors (and some fans as well) and fan paraphernalia is not allowed. The books are still there but the jewellery is not. It seems the WFC board has put a stop to it after so many years because it is a "serious" convention. I let them know that quite a few of us "pros" enjoyed buying our piece of con jewellery over the years and that we missed it. Does serious mean no fun? After all, the jewellery could be juried to fit certain criteria as well.

As often is the case with these cons, I get to few or no panels. I went to one on Friday and then left halfway through to see another. Unfortunately both were clunky, with no real flow and very short to no answers by the pros on the panel.

Saturday, I missed half of one, which had George R.R. Martin, Tad Williams and Steve Erickson talking about killing significant characters in a novel. They may have been more focused in the first half but it wasn't bad for flow and was funny. Tad Williams, one of the special guests and emcee for the World Fantasy awards is a very funny guy.

The other panel I attended was "Why do we write dark fiction?" with Graham Joyce, Nancy Kilpatrick and David Morrell. It was moderated well by Nancy and thought provoking. Very interesting panel that had many of us thinking of their childhoods and surreal experiences.
Because this is long, I'll continue tomorrow with more on WFC.

Teenage Sex and Teachers

2008-10-20T14:59:00.000-07:00

When I was in high school we had this drama teacher. Big at emoting; surprise surprise. There were a range of us, from those who wanted to be there acting to those who were slacking with an easy elective class. I was still shy but actually liked to act. One of the better "acting" students was, if anything, very dramatic. She and this teacher would emote at each other constantly, to the exclusion of the rest of us. In fact, he barely taught us at points because they were too busy googoo gaaing at each other.

Were they having sex? Most of us thought so. Did we care? Not really. I only cared because my instruction was suffering as this teacher gave one student who didn't need it all of his time. Were we scandalized? No. Presuming they did have some sort of affair, I have to say that 17-18 year-old girl definitely was cognizant of what she did, wanted it, hoped for it. She certainly wasn't coerced or influenced and may have manipulated the situation.

Hero worship, big daddy syndrome or whatever you want to call it has gone on for a very long time. Hollywood perpetuates it with leading men often 20 years older than the women. Only in a few cases have they (Hollywood) been brave enough to actually have a female lead older than the male. Harold and Maude is an example of a spring/winter relationship where friendship and personality does not see the boundaries of age. I've never had a problem with relationships where one person was significantly younger/older than the other.

A friend of mine is married to a man 18 years older, and friends of theirs just got married and there is nearly 30 years difference. I've dated men 15 years younger or older than me. What balances age? Attitude, similarities, wisdom, youthfulness and maturity.

A teacher in their 20s or 30s attracted to an 18-year-old isn't that odd in our society. Where the problem comes in, today at least, is that there is seen to be an imbalance of power. A teacher could in essence coerce a student into having sex with them for passing grades. This applies as well to colleges and universities. Such fraternization isn't just frowned on but basis for dismissal. Old movies are rife with college professors married to the young women they slept with, causing their first marriage to fail. Of course, a professor can also be blackmailed by a student in such a relationship.

There have been several cases of teachers being charged; sometimes with true grounds for sexual harassment. Sometimes the instructor was blackmailed or set up without any truth. There are people who will use any situation to manipulate and have power over someone. Doing an internet search will show that there are enough cases of teachers of both genders having sex with their students.

A female Burnaby teacher at St. Thomas More school is now under investigation for alleged relations with a grade 11 student. Tom Ellison was convicted with a conditional sentence for his sexual congress with 17 students (that he confessed to being with). Twelve of seventeen former students complained of their relations with him in the 70s. Because laws for any teacher having sex with a person under 18 regardless of consent were not passed until 1988, the sentence was of a lesser degree.

There are two aspects to teacher/professors having sex with students. The main one for both is the abuse of a position of authority. For school teachers it is also the issue of underage sex. There are definite cases of rape and sexual abuse, but there are also the nebulous cases and it becomes unclear who instigated and if a student would ever suffer ill effects from the sexual encounters with their teachers. The simplest way to keep it from getting ambiguous is the law as it stands:

The Criminal Code does not now criminalize consensual sexual activity with
or between persons 14 or over, unless it takes place in a relationship of trust
or dependency, in which case sexual activity with persons over 14 but under 18
can constitute an offence, notwithstanding their consent. Even consensual
activity with those under 14 but over 12 may not be an offence if the accused is
under 16 and less than two years older than the complainant. The exception, of
course, is anal intercourse, to which unmarried persons under 18 cannot legally
consent, although both the Ontario Court of Appeal(3)
and the Quebec Court of Appeal(4)
have struck down the relevant section of the Criminal Code.
Blame can often be shared. There is a bigger difference of sex with a 14-year-old than with an 17-year-old. Coerced sex is never right but consensual sex gets iffy. Teachers are now being tried mostly on the basis that they are going against the law. If anyone asked me in a court of law if that high school classmate of long ago was coerced, I would definitely say not. But if the affair affected how we were being taught, I would definitely say yes. And if one had broken up with the other, there could have been blackmail. It's better to keep it black and white.
http://www.cbc.ca/canada/british-columbia/story/2007/01/26/bc-ellison.html

Depression: The Invisible Battle

2008-10-09T12:08:00.000-07:00

In the last decade there have been more books on depression and people talking openly. Although I think there can be a point of over-saturation, we're not there yet and more dialogue on depression will people help recognize and understand it better. There are still too many people who live under the black cloud of despair or more tragically, kill themselves out of depression.
I speak not from an outsider's point of view but from the intimate perspective of having suffered mild depression to full-blown clinical depression. The first time was probably in my twenties when my boyfriend of three years and I broke up. I moved to Vancouver and lived for another three years in a somewhat different personality. It was a bit kamikaze, reckless, unhappy and angry. I ended up going to my doctor who sent me to a psychiatrist. He determined that I was working my way out of the depression by that point and didn't put me on meds. That's pretty rare for psychiatrists who are married to the pharma industry. Psychologists aren't covered in Canada's medicare but psychiatrists are.

Perhaps I dipped into depression a few times after that but it was when I was dealing with my eating disorder that I was first put on anti-depressants. I can't say they changed my mood or state of mind but eventually it seems my brain chemistry balanced out and I stopped the binging and quit the meds.

In 2001 I had gone through a few things and had a boyfriend, but I was pretty poor and nothing seemed to be going right for me, My health was deteriorating, partly caused by a repetitive stress injury in the movie industry and now I was poor. Everything built up. I was freelancing but not full time so I'd go and work, then come home and crawl into bed. I forced myself to eat a bowl of soup a day. I couldn't deal with anything: answering the phone, changing a doctor's appointment, coming up with answers to questions. I cocooned for months. And then September 11th happened and that added to the fear and gloom. My elbow was also hurting and no amount of physiotherapy was helping. After many sessions the physiotherapist said she couldn't help anymore.

I went to my doctor with this symptom and she mentioned depression. I didn't want to see a psychiatrist because I don't think they do much (the last one when I had the eating disorder, didn't) and I didn't want to go on anti-depressants because they're hard on teeth and can cause increased cavities (less salivation occurs and bacteria builds up). I also argued that I had reasons to be depressed and listed them. My doctor said, true you can be depressed and have good reasons but it's not about the reasons but how you cope. In essence, I wasn't coping very well at all.

My doctor gave me a questionnaire to fill out and bring back. Of all the questions the only one I didn't have a dire answer to was the one about suicide. I've never been suicidal, not even when depressed. My doctor took one look at my answers and said, "You're going on medication." So I did and luckily she got me a compassionate prescription, which is free through the pharmaceutical companies because there was no way I could afford it and I would have stopped buying them,

Since that time I try to gauge where I'm at, watch my moods and feelings. But depression is a tricky thing. It doesn't always manifest the same way every time. Sometimes you can function but you can't eat. Sometimes you're just in physical pain that won't go away. Sometimes you are fine during the day and plummet every evening. Sometimes you can't eat or eat too much, can't sleep or sleep too much. For me, it's never been quite the same so it gets hard to know for sure.
I sometimes have to look back over a period of a year and see if I have shifted much. I try to catch it before it gets as bad as 2001. I don't like being in that space and everything is far too dark. I tend not to read or watch the news because the concentration and the repetition of the bad and horrid gets to me. Even the radio can be too much but I do like to know what's going on in the world.

Depression is not a physical ailment but it can become one. It can make people as sick as any disease and kill them. Understanding what a person may be going through will help people heal. Calling them crazy and whacked, which we all do, may describe their current state but it won't help them get better. Depression is a disease with varying symptoms and understanding will help those who have it and those who have to be around it.

Writing: Things to Watch Out For

2008-09-21T18:46:00.000-07:00

Below is listed an ad, which was reposted to a writer's list I'm on. Markets like this disturb me for several reasons. Albeit many short story markets only pay about $100 these days (some pay more and some less), but to actually pay only $100 for a 30,000 word story amounts to highway robbery on the publisher's part. One cent a word for that length would equal $300. You do the math on just how little you're getting paid. Of course, if you write the low end 1,500 word story you'll get about .07 a word.

Article writers get paid on average between .75 and $1.25 a word. SFWA says that professional rates for speculative fiction should be at least .05 a word. That would be $1,500. Now I've sometimes sent my stories to places that pay .03 cents or so. I'm still a fairly no name writer and there are many many writers out there. But there comes a point when you have to figure out what you'll prostitute yourself for, and I won't sell myself as cheap as below.

That low payment could fall into acceptable but what really gets me is that this publisher is asking for all rights. I don't know if this includes moral rights and I've talked about how that is the last right anyone should ever give up, but even so, they want all rights. For $100. Wow. That's not just first anthology rights or first electronic print rights, or first North American rights. That's all rights. Which means you can never sell your story again, never get more money to make up for the measly hundred bucks these guys gave you to steal all your rights. You pretty much don't own your story anymore.

If you work for a company and write on their dime, they in essence own all rights. However you still have moral rights in that you are credited with the work, unless you sign those away. Considering the big grab that these guys are doing, I wouldn't put it past them to take moral rights too. And all rights means that they could turn your piece into a film and you wouldn't get a penny, or they could hack it up to read like drek and you'd have no say.

Now sometimes these things are worded badly because new publishers don't understand which rights they should ask for. But I find that the statements about "if you're a new writer" tell me they know pros will not submit to such a place. As well, they do warn you that if you aren't happy with all rights being taken, then don't submit. There are other huge media magazines that buy all rights. The Cricket (Carus publishing) and related childrens' magazines are one. However, they tend to pay more and I don't really submit to them either.

The problem with all of this is that you get magazines and publishers who often say, we can't pay you anything. We do it for love and you have the privilege of getting your work published. However, the flip side is that they have the privilege of publishing your work and without writers they would have no magazine. If they find writing of worth, then they should pay what they think it's worth. I think it's okay for a new magazine to start small, not pay much but aspire to hoping to pay more for stories as they grow. I understand that people want to put out magazines and with the internet it's much easier, but everyone who can should be paying for the work. I too want to start a magazine one day but I won't do it until I know I can pay at least .03 a word to start. I don't want to dishonor writers, of which I'm one.

Writers are always the last to be paid, the ones that are often stinted in how much they get as well. Opulence magazine for which I wrote some articles, did the same thing; ripping off their writers and not paying them for years while the fat cats at the helm got glossier cars and homes. I've written about Opulence elsewhere. Of course individual magazines have to either get grants or raise funds through subscriptions and advertising. Still, writers should not be the ones that get less because all the other costs are more.

Oh and Vincent Hobbes, the novelist? Well, it seems the only writing he has done has been published by Hobbes End (one book) and there is very little information on this publisher. So Vincent published his own work and made a company. That makes me doubly cautious. But each person has their own brain. It's up to every writer just how little they think their work is worth. Of course, if I said each of my stories was worth a million bucks, and that's all I'd accept, I'd still be waiting to publish my first piece.

Novelist Vincent Hobbes is seeking short stories for an upcoming project which will feature a compilation of strange and bizarre stories. His publisher is currently accepting submissions from any author interested in
having his or her work published in a novel.

Manuscripts being accepted will include anything from the following fiction genres:
Horror
Supernatural
Science-fiction
Fantasy
Psychological thriller
Mystery

Requirements: Word count may be anything from 1,500-30,000 words. We are seeking stories that are original and not previously published. Interesting storylines with a preferable twist at the end to captivate the reader is desired. Think Twilight Zone. All stories must be tasteful-not overly gory, no inappropriate sex scenes, or an over use of profanity.

All submissions must adhere to the following guidelines:
Single-spaced 12-point font, Times New Roman Cover sheet must be included with all proper contact information

Whether you are a new author seeking to promote yourself, or simply someone who wants your family and friends to read your story in a published and widely distributed piece of literature, this is a rare opportunity to have your name and story published.

You may submit your story via mail or electronically. Details are as follows:

If mailed, send copy to:
Hobbes End Publishing, LLC

If sent electronically, send to:
publisher@hobbesendpublishing.com
Attn: Short Story Submission (subject line)

Deadline is October 1st, 2008

Terms: Full rights, both printing and media, will be purchased outright for $100.00 per story. Therefore, it will be un-publishable elsewhere without express permission from the publisher. Any author who does not agree to such terms, please do not submit your work for this project. Also, the best story will receive a bonus from the publisher.

Fall and Farmer's Markets

2008-09-15T15:29:00.000-07:00

On Saturday I suffered the pain of a mammogram. For some people it doesn't hurt and for some, like me, it's excruciating. The attitude of the technician was as if I was being a petulant child and causing a ruckus because the plate had "barely touched" me. I most assuredly was not and the fact that my breast and arm are still sore can be attributed to that. I'd like to clamp that woman's breast as hard as mine were and see if she didn't squeal in pain. Meh.
Anyways, on the way home I stopped by the Farmer's Market at Trout Lake park. It's a combo of bakery items, olives, jewellery, pottery, cutting boards, cheese, meats, vegetables and fruits. There are some repeats along the veggie lines but some variety from one to the other. I still find it pretty hard to pay $2 for four carrots though. Everything is supposed to be organic, from the beef to the beets.

I don't get to the market often but I like to get items I can't normally get, or in the case of tomatoes, something with tastes. Whether hothouse grown or not, tomatoes these days have no flavor. They're red globes of water so I definitely buy organic. I have a cherry tomato plant growing at the front of the yard and it's getting quite a few fruits now, somewhat late due to the cool year. But I also bought some cherry tomatoes at the market, with dark red and green streaks. They are very tasty.

I bought a smoked turkey haunch (something I can't get usually), some crimini mushrooms, a variety of Italian squashes and zucchini, and a pair of earrings with lampworked beads. The market is in a parking lot with many people talking, musicians playing, dogs barking and a few people on their cell phones. I was one, talking to my friend about the evening, while I looked at the jewellery, when this woman beside me burst out, "Oh for heaven's sake!"

I looked up and she said, "I came here to get away from cell phones," and stormed off. Well, lady, I came here to get away from judgmental people. Yeesh, what business was it of hers. I wasn't driving (thank god) and there was enough ambient noise for everyone. There certainly was no sign that said, only barefoot hippies in homespun with no technology allowed. It didn't ruin my day.

When I got home I took notice of the changing leaves. That fall chill is already in the air. The apple tree in the back yard is dropping its apples. We never eat them because they're a 100-year-old variety that tends to be soft and mushy. My landlady takes them to the deer on Galliano Island. The pear tree, also 100 years old, developed rust a couple of years ago and now produces fewer, blighted pears. The plum tree has already seen its season come and go. The strawberries are on another burst and producing more fruit. Daisies, echinacea and gladiolas are getting ready to bloom. In some areas they already have. My neighbor has these huge, head-sized dahlias in amazing colors.

So fall is not yet here but the leaves are turning a bit, and others are just going brown. If we continue to get some more sun, like this last week, it will extend the growing period. I'm hoping for this because it's been such a wet and cold year. The longer we can hold back the wintry weather, the better. Though like I said, that chill is already in the air in the mornings. And fall has not officially arrived quite yet.

Piercing Situations

2008-08-07T12:19:00.000-07:00

Somehow yesterday I got thinking about my piercings. When I was sixteen I had my ears pierced. What might have been unusual about this was that my family doctor did it. I doubt anyone would think of going to their GP these days or even that one might consider piercing someone's ears, but when I had mine done it was only the nasty piercing guns that blasted away some of the flesh on the way through. I went in and my doctor put a bit of freezing on my lobes, then poked a needle through.

I walked around with loops of surgical thread (thick surgical thread) through my ears for weeks. When I finally put earrings in I had these little diamond (quartz/rhinestone really) studs. And then I suffered as the cheap earrings flaked off into my ears and if I didn't already have it I developed a nickel allergy. My ears puffed up and turned red and crusty. Pretty icky. I eventually bought some silver rings and put those in.

This first piercing experience and the loops of thread reminded me of being in Nepal, seeing the young girls (as early as four) walking around with small pieces of wood keeping their earholes open. Since many people are poor I presumed that they couldn't yet afford rings for their girl's ears but pierced ears were so much part of Nepalese culture.

And that's just it. Poking things into or through our skin, or decorating it has been something we've been doing since humanity first grabbed that shiny or bright object and started designing. Other cultures have laced things through their noses and lips and chests and genitalia. North American counter culture picked up the piercing traditions of many tribal and African countries. So no matter how trendy, on the edge, neo-goth, punk, burlesque, tribal we've made ourselves here, there was someone else who did it first, probably centuries earlier.

The second time I had one ear pierced, I was not the first, not even in Calgary. I was one of the very few though, especially in Calgary. And that piercing was done with a gun. Ouch. Took a year to heal. Then I went to India where I entertained having my nose pierced, not with the stud through the nostril flesh, but a ring through the septum. I didn't get that done but when I came back I ended up having my other ear pierced again. So I have two holes, close together on the left ear. The right ear has two holes but the second is right before the upper curve.

About three or four years ago I saw a friend in the States who I hadn't seen in a while. She had this really cute diamond stud above her lip, like a beauty mark. It looked great on her and on a spur of the moment kind of thing (with a bit of research on studios) I went in and had a Monroe piercing done. Of all the piercings this one was the most irritating and if I had known the nuisance it would be, I probably wouldn't have had it done. It's also a bad one for wearing at teeth though I haven't had that problem yet.

The piercing itself did not hurt but I kept catching the back on my teeth and pulling it through the flesh. It seems I have an especially thin lip and went in for downsizing three times while it healed. Again the piercing didn't hurt but my gums were so sore for the first week or two, from the stud back (a flat piece) rubbing up and down any time I talked or moved my mouth. Before I finally had the final size (and mine is shorter than most other people's) I would still catch the stud on my teeth. A very disconcerting feeling.

The other annoyance was that any time you have a piercing right on the front of your face, your fingers get in the way and you can't see what you're doing if you have to put in a new piercing. The stud goes through the flesh and the screw is the head/jewel of the piercing and it is incredibly tiny and hard to hold with the wee screw part sticking out. Couple that with trying to get something through the inside of your lip that isn't made for turning inside out to the mirror and you have frustration city. This might not be a big deal but a lot of talking or kissing seems to unscrew the thing.

The first nine months of having the Monroe it seemed to unscrew itself a lot. And where did it do this? In restaurants in the dark about 90% of the time. Amazingly, I've found the head every single time. I carry a spare for the time that I don't find it. I need a few more though. The worst was when it dropped out in a restaurant at lunch and I couldn't get the head back on. A half hour later I tried to get a friend to do it but I couldn't get the stud through the flesh. The hole had already started to close up and I had to go down to the studio three hours later. That hurt like a damn when they had to thread the stud through again, and that was nine months after the piercing.

So yes, it was a pain in the ass. I could go to the flatter nose screw that my friend used in hers, but once I downsize I can't use the bigger pieces again. I need to decide that before I spend more money. Since I went through all the effort to heal, there was no way I was going to get the thing taken out...not until it starts damaging my teeth. I have friends who have had all sorts of body parts pierced: brows, tongues, lips, septums, bridges, backs, necks, nipples, navels, labia, hoods, scrotum, penis...you name it. I think I'm done. But then I thought that before the Monroe.

Gay Pride and a Whole Rainbow of Possibilities

2008-07-31T13:03:00.003-07:00

This coming weekend marks the gay pride parade in Vancouver. I have only managed to go once and it was a so-so parade. I was expecting big Kermit floats and others covered in flowers. Mostly it came across as ways for different businesses to advertise while showing support. Though you do get some colorful individuals and the bare-breasted dykes on bikes. We probably have the second largest population of gay and lesbians after San Francisco. Why the west coast? I'm not sure. Probably because it's warmer but also port cities tend to always be a blend of tradition and new ideas brought in by different ships and crews. Port cities are usually more liberal.

One of the news items associated with this year's gay pride parade was about a Sikh man who has been trying to put a Bollywood style float together and running into some opposition: people don't want the Sikh religion associated with homosexuality. It's kind of odd because it's not the religion that should be associated with homosexuality but homosexuals who are associated with the Sikh religion. Homosexuality isn't drawn to a particular religion.

No matter what right wing fundamentalist may think, homosexuality isn't a choice. People are born with a particular preponderance. A very good friend of mine, Greg, told me that by the age of six he knew he was gay and wanted to play "rubbing dinkies" with the boys. Most of the gay men I know tried sex with the other gender but it just didn't work for them.

Someone posted on wordpress a while back (I wished I'd gone and responded) that their theory was that women who had a "best friend evah" who was gay were women who were dumb, vapid and not too deep (is that the same thing?). I believe the person went on to say that gay men only want these Barbie doll types of women as friends. (I didn't read all of the article) I've heard some ludicrous things over the years and this rates as one of them.

Example: one of my best friends evah is gay. My other best friends are not. I have two degrees and have never been called stupid by anyone. My neighbors are gay and we're all friends. My landlady is an architect. I certainly see no correlation with one type of person being the preferred friend type to a gay person (and I use gay here to mean men or women). Like all people, gay people have a range of personalities and religious beliefs. They are of all religions and none, varying tastes and desires and life goals. The only difference; they prefer to have sex with the same gender.

Of course, these odd prejudices of only one type for one type can also happen amongst certain gay people. I've been accused by gay men of being a fag hag. I hate this term and to me it means a woman who exclusively hangs around with gay men, hoping to eventually have sex with/sway one over to the other side. Even if it only means a woman who only hangs with gay men, I still take offense. If I want to go out with my gay friend, what's wrong with that and why should it be assumed that's all I do? Do people presume such things if you're out with a straight male or a woman?

My biggest problem with people being against homosexuals is--what business is it of yours what they do in their bedrooms? They're not warping your children's minds. You can't sway someone to the "gay side" unless they're already gay. And as far as I'm concerned any religion that would ban someone just for being born the way they are, is a religion I want nothing to do with. Of course, mostly what happens is religious interpretation by individuals, which can get skewed. Love thy neighbor, but not if he's gay? Do unto others as you would have them do unto you, but not if they're gay?

I haven't studied all religions but if compassion means it's only for someone who is like you, then that's a pretty narrow definition. Those who protest the most against being gay are probably those who have questioned their own sexuality and repressed it. Live and let live and stop repressing the homosexuals. If they were accepted in most cases as part of society, the need to flaunt or protest goes waaay down. Hooray for Canada, which legalized same sex marriages. And here's to the gay pride parade which will be needed until everyone accepts that homosexuals are part of the overall population; 10%.

Why I Need to Marry a Dentist/Orthodontist

2008-07-15T14:32:00.000-07:00

I have this tooth. Actually, I have many teeth but this particular one caused me huge grief. It’s a mutant tooth and like most mutations, it’s not particularly useful. Okay, so I’m a mutant, with four kidneys, an extra rib and an extra ankle bone in each foot. None of these bothered me much, except for the rib when I’ve been driving for more than three hours.

Then my tooth started to hurt. It’s crooked, like a few other teeth. I tried to ignore the twinges until they began to linger. Dentistry is expensive and I’ve been trying to save for a crown I needed on another broken tooth. So off I went to my dentist, who took an x-ray and said, “How odd, it looks as if your tooth has two roots.” But she gave it a try.

I should mention that along the way I’ve become overly sensitive to epinephrine. I’ll get a racing heart, tunnel vision, breathing constriction (or it feels like it) and numbing arms. Epinephrine is what makes freezing last when dentists drill into your teeth. No epinephrine means using other types of freezing that don’t last more than an hour. My dentist froze me and started drilling and I started writhing. She couldn’t freeze deep enough so she packed it in and sent me to the specialist.

When I saw the specialist she said, “How unusual. It’s going to cost between $800-1200 for the root canal…” Make that canals. Two three-hour visits later, with a lot of pain…the only way they know when the freezing is coming out is when I start to writhe and whimper… and she said, “Hmmm, I can’t get that second root. We’re going to have to do surgery.”

At that point I had hit the $1200 mark. I said, “I can’t. I have no more money.” They were quoting another $500 for surgery. But they said since my tooth was so unusual they wouldn’t charge me for the surgery. You’d think I’d leap at such a chance to have drills and needles and cutting in my mouth. Needless to say, it was like walking the gangplank with a musket at your back. There really isn’t much choice when your tooth is still hurting.

Now, dental work is never fun and I almost always will feel pain because the freezing seems to come out of the nerves first but will stay in the soft tissue of the lips and nose for several hours. It makes me a bit paranoid. I wouldn’t last very long under torture.

Which brought us to yesterday. I went in at 9:15 and they froze me up with about six shots. I thought, good, I don’t want to feel a thing and having these horrid, not exactly pleasant needles will be all I’ll feel. Should I mention that originally they said the surgery would be quick, less than a half an hour?

Thank god at least the soft tissue was frozen. They cut into the gum on both the distal and lingual sides. I felt like there couldn’t have been any tooth left with all the drilling, digging, pulling, prodding, sawing. I also get TMJ (trans mandibular joint syndrome) so holding my jaw open was its own type of excruciating. It was getting so sore that my jaw was starting to shake.
The types of pain I experienced ranged the whole spectrum; piercing, pinching, deep aching, sharp and deep, throbbing, visceral in ways I can’t describe. I am not exaggerating at all when I say they were having to top up the freezing every five minutes. I lost count at over thirty needles and those were only the ones I felt going into my palette or gum every time. And it barely helped. It seems I metabolize the freezing super quickly. Hooray for mutant super powers.

Digging out the root, twisted and infected, was its own form of torture. And then she touched the exposed bone. Who knew bone could hurt so much. A deep lingering, shuddering pain that had me crying. I couldn’t help it. After that I was wired so tense with layers of pain that I was shaking head to toe. They gave me a rest and one of the assistants had to guide me to the bathroom because I think I was in shock. I was shaky for about another fifteen minutes, before going back for more dental fun.

They dug, they drilled, they sawed and they tugged. I say they because there were three people with their hands in my mouth. They had to refreeze me to stitch me. As I sat there, (they wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to keel over), the assistant said, “We’re only going to charge you for materials. The surgery would have been $1500 but you need to pay $185.” I should also mention that while I was in Kansas I broke my front tooth…again. It usually last two years but it’s been less than a year.

When I was told I needed to pay another $185, I’m afraid it was the last straw in a traumatic morning. I’d been there for three hours. I couldn’t stop crying, but I tried to hide it, then told the specialist that I wouldn’t be able to pay for a while because I had another broken tooth that had to be fixed. She ended up not charging me, which I thank her for. They said it was the most unusual tooth they’ve ever seen and they look at special cases every single day. Oh joy, to be so abnormal.

Right now, my mouth aches, my gums are swollen and throbbing, and I can only eat mushy stuff. I look like a demented chipmunk, with one cheek so swollen it’s encroaching on my vision because my eyelid is pushed up. I spent yesterday afternoon sleeping, where I kept dreaming that I was sucking on keys and coins against my gum and that it kept hurting my stitches. That’s because even in my sleep I was hurting. I just hope to any gods in existence that the rest of my teeth have nice, healthy normal roots. Now I just have to find money to get the front tooth fixed…again, a crown on my molar, and I would imagine that eventually I need one on the mutant tooth. Should I ever need this type of dental surgery again, I’m gonna have them knock me out.

I won’t even get into the costs for braces in a mouth with several problems. That’s at least $10,000. Know of any single dentist/orthodontists, or better yet, one who wants to do a work of charity?

Novel Writing Workshop

2008-07-04T11:09:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow (today) we go over the last of nine novels, which means three chapters and the outline. The writing is of a pretty good caliber in all of these and all of them need work. Kij is amazingly astute and finding what's not working and at defining structure.

There has been quite a range in the ideas from humorous space opera to medieval fantasy to alternate histories. I hadn't worked on the novel for ten years and knew I had huge expository lumps. But I was getting mired. I had to build a complete world, including geography, races, culture, religion and rulers. No small feat and it's still evolving. I was told to get rid of the first two chapters and simplify the information. I also had to drop the meddling gods back.

The more I thought about it, the more relieved I was. I have so much information to impart and I was getting mired. After we went for BBQ (where the food was okay and the waiting staff terrible) at the Vermont, I think, we went back to the dorms. Most nights people sit around and talk and write, to varying degrees. There's a quiet room if you don't want to be bothered by the chatter. I was working on my outline and chatting with Eric Warren from the short fiction workshop.

He had sat in one day on our workshop and had read the two novel bits so he could see how the process went. It's not round table like Clarion and is a more gentle, more brainstorming style which I quite like and find useful, not to mention you learn from the other people's novels too. We ended up discussing my novel and it was really useful. Eric gave me a very cool idea for the second novel and I got to bounce my changes off of him.

What this outline has given me that the first didn't is a jumping point to a second novel. I had only thought in the vague terms of "there will be one" before this. Kij has made me cut down to three viewpoint characters. Because of the races and plot, I can't really go to fewer. But this leaves room for different character viewpoints in the second novel. One rule was that two of the three problems must be solved by the end of the novel. I've done this (at least in the outline), and leaving one unsolved problem leaves room for that problem to flow into the next novel and for joining them.

The outline gets turned in next week and taken through the process. I think it is stronger and kind of exciting. I also wrote up story arcs for each of the four characters, which definitely helps in plotting the outlines. I hope to have most of the outline done by tomorrow.

Writing News and Kansas

2008-06-25T13:54:00.000-07:00

I received my cheque from Shroud magazine this week for my story "Amuse-Bouche," which means it should be out soon. http://www.shroudmagazine.com/index.html

My cheque also arrived for my story "Strict Management" out in the Cleis Press erotic anthology Open for Business, and the books arrived today. http://www.cleispress.com/index.php

And I also received word today that Maxim Jakubowski has accepted my story "Stocking Stuffers" originally printed in the Cleis Press anthology Naughty or Nice, for the Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 8to be published in 2009.

Other than that, writing beyond this blog is on hold. For the CSSF novel workshop in Kansas I have had eight other people's partial novels to read (up to about 50 pages) and critique. I have one and a half more to do and I leave on Friday. http://www2.ku.edu/~sfcenter/campbell-conference.htm The workshop begins next Monday in Lawrence.

The stories cover a wide range with a medieval epic fantasy, an uplift style SF space race story, two near future SF stories with altered humans (but by very different means and reasons), a world with specially empowered people and angels, an alternate history with Hitler, a magical mystery PI story, and a clairvoyant conspiracy with a mystery. My story falls into a pre-industrial medieval fantasy but on a different world with different species and gods. Overall, we have quite a range and everyone's story is very intriguing so far.

I'm looking forward to my two weeks of being immersed in the creative medium, which ends with the Campbell Conference.

Zenn Car or Tesla Roadster

2008-06-23T09:42:00.000-07:00

I'm sure there are more electric cars out there but I recently mentioned the Zenn Car and Tesla Motors Roadster. Because I've wanted to downsize since last year, and should have done it then, I've been looking at cars. My Saturn Ion 3 does get pretty good mileage: 600 km to a 50 litre tank, or about 30 mi/gallon. That's highway driving. But I don't need the space and therefore could improve on the mileage with a smaller vehicle.

Well, an electric car would be ideal, right? When I looked at the Tesla Roadster http://www.teslamotors.com/, with its 220 miles to a charge, its ability to accelerate, its green aspects, I thought yes! The catch: you have to place an order and it could take a year to get your car. The cost is $109,000, which makes it a toy for the environmentally conscious elite only. It's only available in the US. Still, if some of the jetsetting rich folk think beyond what they can spend on frivolities, then that's a start. And as we know, many rock and movie stars can be role models (just look at Paris!), so let's hope they lead by green examples.

On the other end is the Zenn car http://www.zenncars.com/ made in Canada. It's classified as a NEV (neighbourhood electric vehicle). That's part of the catch; it only goes up to about 25 miles an hour/40 km. Even in Vancouver, should I be puttering about at 40 km, I'm going to make a lot of irate drives in the 50 km zones where everyone goes 60 km. But it's cheap at $15, 995 USD. Available in many states, Zenn is looking at starting in Montreal for Canada. It's taken awhile to get through the Canadian red tape even if it is a Canadian made car. But for delivery vehicles and people who just move about the city from work to the store to home, it's a cheaper alternative.

I can't buy the Roadster because it's expensive and only avaialable in the US. I can't buy the Zenn because its goes too slow (and I drive on the highway to get to work) and it's only available in the US. I can't buy a Prius or any other electric hybrid car because they're too expensive.
Now, I had even more incentive to get a smaller car because of the BC government's impending carbon tax, to make people choose greener alternatives. I've already grumbled about how this would work better if we actually had real alternatives. I should have sold my car six months ago when I first decided to downgrade. I've looked at the Honda Fit, the Toyota Yaris and the Nissan Versa. All are viable as smaller cars, all are similar though one is better at pick-up, one at trunk space, one at turning radius.

My catch? I still owe payments on my Saturn Ion 3. Although it's been reliable and good on gas mileage, everyone is scared to buy cars (let alone trucks) right now. I can't sell it for what it's worth, which means I can't buy a smaller, more energy efficient car. So the government has me where it hurts with their extra tax on the already taxed gas. And soon, it will be cheaper to take the bus, but it's still cheaper for me to drive.

Anyone want to buy a good car?

Writing News

2008-06-17T15:31:00.000-07:00

It seems there has been a contest listed on Craigslist that list the SFWA (Science Fiction Writers of America) as sponsoring it. You pay a $10 contest entry and then the winning stories and honourable mentions will be published by a big publisher.

This is a fraudulent contest and SFWA has already issued statements that they have not sponsored that. Someone is hoping to make some money on collecting entry fees but having no legitimate contest.

Writer beware. Do not send anything if you see this contest listed.

Dream States

2008-06-11T14:15:00.000-07:00

I had the oddest dream last night that mixed different parts of my life. In real life, last night, I gave Daralyn and Miranda a ride home. They're students at the naturopathic college where I work.

So then I dreamt: Miranda, Daralyn and I were at a writing convention. We were in a hotel room and getting ready for bed, three beds. As we settled in two other women I didn't know burst in and, because we'd answered the door, one took my bed and the other took one of the other's beds. A fourth woman had just joined us before that and was going to share the larger bed. The larger intruding woman took that bed.

I took my pillow and was trying to find my sheets or duvet but couldn't. It turns out there was a fourth bed but it had four TVs hanging over it so low that if you were laying in the bed your nose would probably touch them. Since that wasn't usable I went to the adjoining room where two Japanese girls were going in. Two people were already sleeping in there but on small kitchen style tables. Various bits of fabric were draped over the tables.

I heard that one was Martel, this Chicago writer on a list that I'm on. In real life, it turns out that Martel is a woman but I've never met her or seen a picture of her. In my dream it was a guy with wild red hair, and superhero size muscled arms. He had a tiny Pomeranian sized saber tooth tiger and gave me a hug when I said I was on Twilight Tales also.

At that point I realized the two women who had come in had been rude and that there was no reason they should take our beds and I went back into the room, told them there was etiquette and rules and that they couldn't just take our beds when we'd already picked them.

Then I was in Europe, I think, sitting beside a large gargoyle outside a building. I was looking at small sculptures that were butter molds and presses when Friz, Jordan and I think, Rick, three other students from the college walked by. We said hi and hugged each other. And that was the dream in all its weirdness

Suffering the Effects of Gas...Prices

2008-06-06T16:47:00.001-07:00

Alas, today I had to put gas into the car. $25 for a quarter of a tank at $1.42 a litre. For those of you in the US, there are 3.8 litres to the US gallon (different from the imperial gallon) but roughly you can multiply it by four for a price of $5.68 a gallon. It's still cheaper to gas up in the US, when I can, but I can't afford to drive as far.

So, gas prices, definitely causing us discomfort but these days we hear, oh the price of food is going up because of gas prices. Airline tickets--gas prices. Clothing--gas prices. Gas prices--gas prices. Yes, the price of gas is going up because of the price of gas. Or gas prices are going up because of volcanoes, tsunamis, rain, broken fingernails or war somewhere. I wonder how much George Bush can be blamed for gas prices?

The moment that our lovely provincial government mentioned that they would be doing a carbon tax on gas as of July 1, the price went up by a couple of cents (back in April). Let's not forget that gas is already taxed federally and provincially and more if you live in large urban centers--36.3% as of 2006 for Vancouver. Oh and there is tax on the tax. (You'll have to read my earlier rant, "Carbon Tax: Wolf in Sheep's Clothing" to see why I think it's hugely flawed--the least amount of work the gov't can do toward environmentalism.)

Let's go back ten years or more. I remember a time when the price of gas stayed the same for months on end and would only change by a cent. In BC, less than ten years ago Arco started to come into the province. Gas went down to an unprecedented .29 cents a litre. You could gas up for $15. It began a gas war because of Arco's low prices. Do they even exist anymore? At that point in time prices would drop or rise but stay that way for a week.

Somehow everything sped up exponentially. It became a daily thing to see prices change by .10 cents a litre and it still happens. So, tell me, great gas corporations, are your prices changing on the hour because of every geographic upheaval, drop of rain or hurled insult somewhere in the world? Does this somehow affect the reserves? According to these poor beleaguered gas companies, which I'm sure are losing money, yes, every little earthquake, every insurrection causes gas prices to change instantaneously.

Wow, we are so volatile. I notice that those world crises are at their lowest late at night and mid day but that they affect gas prices most when we are going to or coming from work and always on the weekend when you may be driving at any particular time. Gosh, our world is like a bunch of festering sores just constantly popping.

There have been calls for investigations into the price of gas and the fluctuation of such. I have yet to hear that there was such an investigation or the results. We're at the mercy of the gas companies who will only switch wholeheartedly to hybrid or other clean energy cars when they can no longer suck the last drop of oil from the earth and likewise suck us dry. Just look at how little advertising has ever gone into a hybrid car and how they are more expensive than any gas guzzler. Oh, and if you check far enough some gas and car companies are often jointely owned or have shares in each other. Can we say collusion?

Rebellion Baby

2008-06-03T15:53:00.000-07:00

Or is that rebellion, baby! Actually, no, it's rebellion baby. That's what I was. My brother was recently in town and commented on a little tactic I had at the age of two. I don't remember it but he still laughs about it.

It seems when my mother would put me to bed I would rebel with a fit where I'd tear off my pajamas, toss them in the hallway and then lay down upon them...and fall asleep. Maybe that's why I don't where pajamas today. But I do remember being slightly older, around four or five years of age, and I would slowly, accidentally, slide out of bed on the covers, because that way I wasn't going to bed, darn it! No way! It didn't seem to matter to my child's mind that I would fall asleep on the sheets on the floor and inevitably wake up in the morning in my bed.

What a rebel I was. I hated going to bed. I hated missing out on things. One evening, some adult cousins from Lac La Biche, Doreen and Ted, showed up at the house. It was past my bedtime and I was in bed but not asleep. I heard them come in and wanted to see them but there was no way I could just trounce upstairs without getting in deep doodoo.

I was, on one level, very honest. I didn't tend to lie. I couldn't fake being sick, like my brother believes he did and faked himself into an appendectomy at a young age. But I had a devious plan. I could swallow air and at other times, burp on will. This time I just kept swallowing the air and not burping it out until my tummy hurt. Aha! Now I could go upstairs and say, "My tummy hurts."

My mother must have been wise to my ways. She said something about it being suspect and gave me a glass of warm water, which succeeded in freeing my trapped burps. But I got what I wanted. I got to see Doreen and Ted before being sent back to bed.

I was a classic bookworm, often staying up late at night, reading, with the flashlight under the sheets. I'm still a late night person, often going to bed at 2:00, which means I usually don't get enough sleep during the week. And I still sleep in till 10:00 am if I can.

As to rebellion, well, I wanted to learn to play drums as a kid, not because I had any affinity but because it's what girls didn't do. Instead, when my mother denied me, I hit the art/drawing route, much better suited to my temperament. And my mother learned that if she wanted me to do something she got a lot farther if she asked instead of telling me what to do.

Worlds of What If: Story Ideas & Oz

2008-06-02T11:15:00.000-07:00

I recently wrote a story about Dorothy, ten years after Oz, where she still lives in Kansas. It involves the shoes showing up suddenly in her closet. It's barely fantastical, might be called literary.

I sent it to a speculative fiction magazine where it was rejected. The comment was that the protagnonist didn't do enough and, what about the other 15 Oz books and what they covered that people knew so well. I can live with criticism and comments on what doesn't work but I didn't find the comment about the Oz books helpful nor true to the whole genre of speculative writing.

Worlds of what-if includes looking at something and saying, what if it did this instead of this? What if Snow White had actually enslaved the dwarfs to work for her and they were brainwashed? What if the Germans had won WWII? What if magic did exist and it caused a worldwide class system? There are a thousand examples of where someone takes a pre-existing concept or event and changes it.

Fairy tales have long been in the realm of public domain and many have been rewritten and retold in varying ways. The most popular example would be anything that Disney has touched, to the extent that some people think that the Disney version is the one and only. But fairy tales have a long tradition of orginally being oral tales that were eventually written down by the Grimm brothers and others. Once they hit print, they didn't change and adapt with the times as much, but they did still change. Writers still took those ideas and played with them.

L. Frank Baum's Wizard of Oz was written in 1900 and published in 1901. It's been around long enough that it is now in our memories. When I decided to write the story I actually had to go read the book, because like many people, I was more familiar with the movie. I didn't read the other 13 books (not 15). Though they were popular it was that original adventure that caught so many people's imaginations.

Asking, what if this happened to Dorothy is a valid question. But perhaps I'm just an angry rejected author. Well, I have given examples of other what-ifs, but let's look at two that I just found this week. Yesterday, I was listening to CBC Radio's Wiretap http://www.cbc.ca/wiretap/index.html There were two stories: What if the Penguin and Mary Poppins met on a blind date? And what if Barney accidentally killed Dino in Bedrock? Hmm, if I was the editor that rejected my story because I didn't consider the other 13 books, then I could also say but Mary Poppins never met the Penguin. What about all those other Batman comics. Or, but Dino never died and what about all those other Flintstones cartoons?

Okay, well, those are closer to the point I'm making but not about Oz. Then I came across the following article this weekend in the Dec. 2007 issue of Wired.

Tin Man--SciFi Chanel's three-part reimagining of The Wizard of Oz, premiering Dec. 2, blends steampunk and Buffy. Heroine DG (Zooey Deschanel) battles the evil Sorceress (Kathleen Robertson) to free the oppressed residents of The O.Z. The Tin Man (Neal McDonough) is a more-dreamy-than-tinny ex-cop resistance fighter, and the Scarecrow (Alan Cumming) is a victim of grand theft brain. Cheesy? Absolutely. But it's also clever and wonderfully geeky.

Steampunk and Buffy? The Tin Man is an ex-cop? Oh my goodness! But...but.... I think my point is made that it's valid to take a character, a time, a place and ask what if? It's valid to not slavishly follow what has been written but to take some elements and fly off into the worlds of imagination. As to my story, well, I'll continue to send it out and see what the editors think.

Car Calamity

2008-05-23T15:34:00.000-07:00

Dear Wanker,

Six months ago, nearly to the day someone broke into my place by crowbarring the French patio doors and stealing my new camera. Last night someone crowbarred the moulding on my car window and then smashed the window in. I think it was you. But if it wasn't, no matter, there are wankers of a certain ilk and you are just one of many.

I hope you enjoyed the one CD you got though I really doubt Sarah McLaughlin is your style. Oh and enjoy the empty Cranberries case. Perhaps you can use it to layout your crack or cocaine. You did get my in-car phone charger but I'm guessing you don't have a phone so if you just grease that thing up you can shove it up your ass. It might stop you from spreading your degenerate shit.

And I really hope you enjoy the lime Tictacs. They're only available in the US, you know, so use them to disguise your dog breath laden with ketosis from not enough food. Hell, keep the plastic knife and fork and use them to pretend you're actually having a meal. And since you took the tiny tube of toothpaste, you can brush away that dogbreath afterwards.

I'm sure the wee bag of rock salt came in handy. I don't need it. You've already salted my wounds. I'm sure the tampon will come in handy too. Stick it up your nose when it starts bleeding from too much coke. Or use it to absorb any blood that comes spurting out from your bungled attempt at sticking a needle in your veins.

I'd wish you the karma you deserve for violating my space and my possessions and causing me needless costs that I can ill-afford. I know you don't care and that you've already sold your mother and anyone else near and dear to you. I'd wish you the karma you deserve but I think you're already experiencing it. Instead, I wish you healing and the ability to find some semblance of a life and a meaning for existence besides being a vacuous repository for substances and a canker on society's ass. I wish you will feel regret for what you did and learn to help others.

I wish you healing, but if I run into you I'm going to take that crowbar and shove it up your ass sideways, then feed you the broken bits of glass.

Stones of Ireland: II

2008-05-23T10:50:00.001-07:00

We travelled to the Cliffs of Moher in northwestern Ireland, the tallest in Europe. Rugged and impressive, they remained formidable to drive up and to look down. The sheer audacity of Kinbane castle in Northern Ireland built down a very steep hill right on the promontory of the North Sea kept it impenetrable for years. Out near Kinvara and in the Burren were the Ailwee Caves, great underground caverns carved millennia ago by a subterranean river, fossils and minerals sparkling like the realm of Hades. Cool, pitch black except when they turned on the lights, and a den for extinct European brown bears, their might was in their endurance and solidity.

The Burren was as impressive in its way as the Giants Causeway. At some point in the ancient past a mountain or volcano erupted, spewing tons of flowing mud down mountain and hill. Eventually it solidified into grey rock but still has that look of a mud flow. Smooth in spots, rippled in others, there are dips that are treacherous to walk over but where wind and rain have blown deposits of soil over the centuries. There in those protected trenches are a myriad of plant life, some unique to that area.

The Burren butts up to a rugged shoreline near Kinvara, but on the higher hills it is barren stone, short shrubs and the tiny plants that grow in their coves. Everywhere through this area are stone walls and hill forts that were stacked by hand centuries ago. In fact the stone walls are abundant throughout Ireland but rule supreme in the Burren. The stones might be stacked on their edges, resting against each other, placed flat on top of each other, or made with their widest sides facing out. Some are mortared, and they are ageless. They could have been built a week ago or a thousand years ago. They were used as natural boundaries, pens for cattle and sheep and as fortifications. I’ve been told that they now work at protecting species of flora and fauna throughout the emerald isle, working as borders where invasive species don’t encroach.

Upon the Burren with its hard, alien looking surface, unable to really support any crop, somehow people eked out a life, for centuries. And topping it was Poulnabrone Dolmen, a passage tomb made of four giant slabs of stone with a fifth resting atop them like a table. You can look through beneath the table stone, from one world perhaps to the next. It has stood for over 5,000 years, a part of every person’s life who lived upon the Burren.

All lands have stone in one form or another. Rock is the foundation of our world from its magma core to the volcanic eruptions and tectonic shifts that show our planet is alive. From sand and pebble to rock and boulder, stones have always been there to support and shelter. The Irish reuse the stones from any old building torn down, reworking it into something new.

The strong sense of the history of the stones, from the monasteries and castles to the cemetery tombs and headstones, to the walls and hill forts, they all spoke of a true Irish intimacy with stone. There is history, life and death. There is art, utilitarian purpose and mystery. And most of all, there is community; thousand of years of life with each person using what had come before, the ruins or the dead not forgotten but integrated into continuing family rituals. Ireland truly taught me the endurance of time and of stories shown in its stone, its very foundation.

The Stones of Ireland: I

2008-05-22T16:18:00.000-07:00

In October, 2007 I travelled to Ireland, a place I had wanted to visit for years. I’m not sure why exactly as there is no Irish in my blood and other countries have more and bigger castles. It was more the sense of rolling green hills and the land of faery, a romantic notion perhaps.

We circumnavigated Ireland in two weeks, going north, then west, then south and east, starting and ending in Dublin. There were some key sites we wanted to see but then let ourselves be guided by road signs and guide books.

This was a mostly outdoor expedition involving trips to old castles and monasteries and some cemeteries, as well as driving through the changing landscape. The history of the architecture and how it had changed over time was fascinating, small enclosures and Viking settlements built over with increasingly sophisticated fortifications or ecclesiastical buildings.

Newgrange and Knowth were amazing in that these structures were built over 5,000 years ago and are older than the pyramids of Egypt. Some of the passage tombs fell apart or were scavenged for stones for other buildings and roads. Many of these barrows have a corridor or an interior built with slabs of stone, then dirt is mounded over. Newgrange's corbeled stone roof has never leaked in 5,000 years. The hummocked hills gave rise to the tales of the homes of the sidhe and the Tuatha de Danan.

Other barrows were built over with time, dirt being added, and villages or cattle settling upon them. Some of their original use is a mystery but some contain bones or human ashes. Others may have been ceremonial or religious structures. Newgrange is the most impressive as it was built upon a hill and the outer wall lined with white quartz (this was rebuilt in more recent times and there is argument as to how it may actually have been placed), which would be striking in the bright sun and visible for miles around.

Giants Causeway on the north coat of Northern Ireland was a natural structure of basalt rock that had been rapidly heated and cooled millennia ago causing large octagonal pillars to form. They break apart in slabs, maintaining their structure and can be walked over like steps. Some form natural seats or chairs. There is a section called the organ because it looks like a giant pipe organ in the hill. There seems to only be that one area in Ireland that has such unique stones.

The castles and monasteries abounded as well as the very old cemetery of Monasterboice with the millennium old tower (imagine Rapunzel) that they believe was used for storage, sanctuary and watch for marauders. Some of the carvings on pillars still showed wonderful detail; leaves, faces both animal and human, various designs. Some of the blocks of stone seemed to have been placed with a sense of tone, dark and light stones alternating, or smaller pebbles placed in the mortar between larger stones.

Over the centuries many of these castles and churches fell into ruin but they were not abandoned. Tombs and graves pepper every place. The oldest monastery floors are nothing but tomb after tomb. There is nothing to do but walk over the bones of the past. Even walls have been taken over, a person interred into the very foundation and a plaque sealing them in. The oldest readable stones go to the 1700s. Older than that, the words become too worn away, by feet and weather. There are graves dating over a thousand years in some cases, right up to months of the current date.

Some graveyards have been held by the ruling families or clans and there might be dozens of McDonnells buried in one area such as Ballycastle. Other graves are family plots and in the more modern ones, configured by a low fence, a bar, about six inches from the ground. These more modern plots have pebbled glass or stone in different combinations of colour and some flowers, real or not. Some are very individual. Headstones often denote many generations entombed in the plot, going back a century or more. At one Benedictine monastery there was a family of four cleaning and smoothing the stones of their family’s plot on a sunny day.

Continued tomorrow (images of Ireland can be seen by going back through my posts. If you can't find them, let me know.)

The Black Hole

2008-05-07T17:14:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure any of this will make sense. I have three blogs: Wordpress, here and Live Journal. I recently stopped posting to Live Journal because although it was more the community aspect and personal side of life I found it wasn't communication. Many people post/read to keep track of each other but how much can you read about one person's theses, knitting, angst, writing, etc. every day?

At least it does let you know what someone you know is doing and you can check in from time to time. But for communication, it didn't work very well. Few people would ever respond to my posts, not that responses were required most times, as I didn't respond to everyone else's.

But when I asked a question, even a serious question, I would only get a few comments and fewer rarely answering the question. Of the thirty or so people supposedly reading my journal, I believe at least 5-10 read periodically or not at all. The others are fairly steady. I'd sometimes post questions to their posts and would likewise receive no response when I asked a question.

When I decided I was wasting my time and would go back to writing in a paper journal and I posted this to the site; no one commented. Which told me everyone is too busy, or no one cared or no one read. Good reasons to stop. Two people wanted to know where my other blogs were and that was it. So communication, no. One way info blurbs, sure.

I have enough to do anyways and three blogs is a bit too much for me. I repeat myself, like a creaky wheel. Most of us aren't that witty in the day to day and then it becomes boring.

But then perhaps I'm in a vortex. I've sent emails to people and received no answer. I've called people and received no answer. Not everyone, mind you, but many things and many time sensitive questions. Enough that I've begun to wonder if my communications are broken. It's a very odd feeling, feeling like one is in a black hole.

As a pagan, I put out calls (so to speak) to the gods (a general concept with more explanation needed) and there is no answer there. Soon I'll pull the plug there too. One last week to get some sort of positive (as opposed to negative--I have enough of that) response or I'll walk away. I'm not a catnip toy after all; to be toyed with when it amuses one and forgotten the rest of the time.

Tying up Loose Ends

2008-04-29T14:43:00.000-07:00

I have several stories that are nearly finished. In some cases I've been writing them for years. I may have had a great idea but not figured out how to tie up the ending or how to resolve the conflict. Sometimes it was a setting or premise. Sometimes I just get bogged down.

I'm now very close with about three stories. I finally finished the web one which I retitled "Ensnared" though I'm not so happy with that title. I struggled with that ending for a while. Whereas "Shoes" was easy to write and finish. I now have one on the Germanic goddess Berchta, one on barge people and one I'm trying to write for Sword & Sorceress. That one will be completed first. The other two I might have started as long ago as ten years ago. I'm a lot closer to the endings. Berchta will come next but I don't want to ruin it. The problem with taking so long is the voice can change through the story so I have to be diligent.

After that--actually during--I have to make sure my chapters and outline are as good as they're going to get and send them off for the Kansas workshop (flight is booked!). Then I must write two erotic tales by the end of June as they are nearly for-sure sales if I get them done. I'm not writing fast but I am writing.

Tooth Troubles

2008-04-25T15:10:00.000-07:00

Our lovely health system doesn't cover teeth. My job has no medical/dental plan. I've been trying to put aside $900 since January for a tooth I broke over the holidays and requires a crown. In the meantime, a tooth that was refilled last year decided to move on to the next stage. It started aching with eating hot food and then causing other teeth to ache.

It's one of my front teeth. My dentist tried to go in but she couldn't get it to freeze and I can't take regular freezing with epinephrine. And it turns out it's a mutant tooth having two roots. Front teeth should only have one. So I have to go to the specialist. I'm quoted $800-$1200 for the root canal only. That's not looking at another crown.

I have just enough money to cover the root canal and then that's it. I thought I could pay down my charge card but alas that's not in the cards. So it goes. Perhaps some day the government might see that dental health is essential to overall health. The thing is, I won't even have pretty teeth after this. They're fairly crooked and I've been told it would be $10,000 plus. Right, I'll just dip into the piggy bank.

Publishing News

2008-04-15T15:40:00.000-07:00

I've recently received word that my story will be out in Nemonymous 8: Cone Zero. I'm not allowed to name the story until the published anthology has been out for eight months. Nemonymous is a British publication by DF Lewis. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nemonymous

The stories are published but the author names (I believe) are listed at the back of the book/magazine with no credit given to a particular story. In the subsequent issue, the story and author are matched up. The pay is much like any other anthology in the speculative genre; a little more since it's in British pounds. This story should be out in June this year.

As well, as of mid-March I've become the senior fantasy editor at Aberrant Dreams. This is to help with the flow and hopefully bring the magazine up to more consistent output as its been sporadic. http://www.hd-image.com/main.htm Joe Dickerson is one of the two originators of the online magazine (Lonny Harper is the other) and he has recently been publishing some books as well. His time was being consumed, with too many decisions getting log-jammed. I'm not sure who is the head horror editor and Joe may be the main SF editor still. Marcie Tentchoff is the poetry editor.

Good news is that new material went up this week and as far as fantasy goes, we're review material sent within our 5-month timeframe. This does not include some stories waiting for final approval that Joe has or that I still have. I'm hoping to get through this in the next week. The sad thing is that there are many very good stories but I'll be limited to sending one on a month to Joe. That means some works will be rejected so that they're just not held forever. It's a tough market out there with more good stories than funds or room to publish in many magazines.

Which just tells me that writers should have faith. Rejection may not even be because the story is bad at all.

Arts Council Grants

2008-04-11T14:43:00.000-07:00

Recently I decided that it would be beneficial to take a novel writing workshop in Kansas this summer, sponsored by the Center for the Study of Science Fiction. http://www2.ku.edu/~sfcenter/novel-workshop.htm It's a two-week concentrated effort on brainstorming, smoothing out and progressing to a saleable outline and/or chapters. The setting is with a small group of people so it allows for uninterrupted time on the masterpiece in bud.

The workshop itself is not that expensive but by the time you add lodging, food and transportation it isn't necessarily cheap. I decided to apply for a Canada Council grant and a BC Arts Council grant. The last time I even entertained applying for any sort of travel grant I didn't have enough credentials to make it into the process.

I started with the BC Arts Council grant as it had a tighter deadline. This one required a related CV, letter of acceptance, two reference letters, description of the project, letter outlining what I would be doing and how it would benefit me and my career, sample of written work, and a list of published credits, which means title, publisher, date, number of pages and that it must be in a legitimate publication for which there is a review process and payment. The council asked for 120 pages of published fiction, or 40 pages of published poetry. I have many many poems published but since I'm applying in a fiction field I thought it best to include as many fiction credits as possible.

This meant I had to go through all the copies of my published works that I have at home. Luckily I have always kept a list which had title, publication and publisher, editor and date. So what I really needed was to confirm the volume or publication numbers and the number of pages. It took a couple of nights to go through this and some searching on the internet but I completed it all. The very helpful Walter Quan at BC Arts also answered all my questions, including that I could combine poetry and fiction to get the full amount and even use my erotic fiction if it went through the proper review process, which it did.

Next was getting the letters of recommendation which also assess the study project and its worth. Sure I've been published but I'm still fairly unknown so who would know my work enough to comment on it and the workshop? Friend and famously bad communicator Ed Bryant could have done it but trying to get him to send me something on time would have been nigh impossible. Luckily Kij Johnson, who leads the workshop is an astoundingly good writer and a friend. So that was one letter but I needed the second. I finally thought back to my story that received the most recognition, "Hold Back the Night" in the Open Space anthology. Claude Lalumiere had been an amazing editor, working with me and getting me through two rewrites to bring out the best potential of the story. He's since rejected a story of mine but I felt he might be willing and he was. They both gave encouraging support in their letters.

By far the hardest part was writing up how the workshop would benefit my career and what it would give me. I took the longest on that and submitted everything before the March 15 deadline. BC Arts will only pay half of the total budget of the project so I then focused on Canada Council. It was interesting, and I noted to the BC Arts contact, that more writing was required by BC Arts than Canada Council (CC requires about 40 pages of published writing). He said this was because BC Arts has less money to go around and therefore must raise the bar.

For Canada Council I didn't apply for a study assistance as for BC Arts, but for a travel grant. They say travel grants can't be used for a host of things including workshops where their primary purpose is training. It becomes a gray area as this workshop is more brainstorming and concentrating on revision (darn, wish I'd said that in the application) so I had to word my letter carefully. Although no letters of recommendation were required I added the two I had received. I had to also add a budget and place of publication for all of my credits, so it was back to the bookcase again to get that information. I found one poem not even listed on my CV and now I have all my information in a consistent form for any further needs.

The Canada Council application went off at the end of March. Now I wait to see if I received one or both of the applications. It's an interesting process especially in comparison of the two application processes. There are larger grants, which if I'm successful I might apply for to finish the novel. The requirements become more stringent at that level. For now, I work on the novel outline for the workshop.

On the High Horse: Greater Vancouver’s Attitude Toward Transportation

2008-03-14T11:39:00.000-07:00

Transportation has always been an issue, but as gas prices bloat and government brings in carbon taxes, toll bridges (the Port Mann bridge is scheduled to have a toll booth, which will slow down the traffic even more) and other measures, all under the guise of being green, it means that people will want to seek alternative means.

Over the years, yes, people have relied more and more on their cars. When I was a child I would walk the ten-twenty blocks to school. These days everyone drives their kids. That’s partly because of the greater fear of predators, not to mention traffic has become exceedlingly congested and inconsiderate, making it unsafe for younger children.

Housing prices have become exorbitant so people have to buy farther and farther out and then commute to work. If you live east of Vancouver you have the choice of taking buses; not a time efficent mode. There is the West Coast Express or a combination of SkyTrain and buses. The first is prohibitively expensive for many. But let’s look at using buses and SkyTrain. The farther out you live, the more you pay for a bus ride as the GVRD (now changing their name to Metro Vancouver)/Coast Mountain Bus have conjointly allowed for the area to be split into zones. Which means you are punished for living farther from the downtown core.

Many people, including me, have opted to continue driving as it was cheaper for gas than a bus pass and more time effiicient. Mexico City, with a population of plus 25 million keeps their trains cheap or the city would freeze from gridlock and completely decay from the pollution, which is already extremely bad. Cities like New York have an efficient subway system that runs frequently to all the boroughs and is comparably priced.

Efficiency means reliable. The bus/train system here has suffered from numerous breakdowns, especially in the winter. The stations are filthy and have a high criminal element lurking about. There has been a recent change to the stations with brighter lighting being put in and more security around the platforms. However, the level of filth (dirt, spit, gum, spills) on some of the platforms is still fairly high.

As well, people have been stranded when an overfull bus passes them by and there is no later one running. “Reliable transportation” would include buses running frequently and on time. Somehow the city decided it was a good idea to let downtown clubs and bars be open till 4:00 am if they wanted, but Coast Mountain closes down the SkyTrain just after midnight and the buses become infrequent or stop running to some areas far before most bars close. Incidences of weekend car thefts go up because somebody has come to town to party and find they can’t get home. I’d love to know who was the brainiac that thought that part out.

Taxis are likewise impossible to find on a weekend and would be too expensive to most other cities. Sure you can ride a bike, if you trust the drivers. I don’t, and that’s a story for another day. The public is held by the short and curlies. The GVRD, Coast Mountain and the BC government continue to tax everyone, raise prices of local transportation and add more tolls. They want to encourage us to use less fuel, mostly to garner votes in the “green” category. But where are the viable alternatives? Not enough public transportation that is affordable, reliable, safe and timely leaves people with spending more for not better.

Stress levels will increase, pollution won’t lessen because the green alternatives are missing. In the long run, this is the GVRD’s and the government’s ways of having more money coming in without putting effort in to true alternatives.

Carbon Tax: Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

2008-03-03T13:21:00.000-08:00

The latest craze that even the government on all levels has realized brings popularity and kudos, is to go green. From civic to federal governments, this last year we've seen such buzz words as "eco, green, carbon tax and environment."

Vancouver mayor Sam Sullivan has been championing his "eco-density" movement as we move closer to an election campaign. For the busy, unthinking or easily duped they hear the word "eco" and will go, Oh it must be good for us and the environment, so I'll vote Sam. What does it really mean? It's another word for condo, high-rise and sardine city. Eco-density, like the use of collateral damage to mean dead people, is just disguising the continual downgrading of our living spaces to smaller and smaller areas for higher prices. Oh, but they'll put a little greenspace outside so that when you're pressed up against the glass and staring down five stories, you can dream of a previous era where people gamboled in the grass.

The BC government, so good at tearing up contracts and firing hospital workers to the tune of saving money, cleanliness issues and losing lives, who started singing the song of saving our environment has just instituted the carbon tax, to take place June 1. Because, they parrot, it will make people use gas less and think of greener alternatives. Supposedly it will affect every use of fuel, including those who have to heat their homes this way. Much better to let those little old people with their thinly insulated skin shudder away and wrap up in old blankets. Then the government can say, well look at them; aren't they doing a great job.

The carbon tax makes no sense. It's like saying, oh people are buying too much food, so we'll raise the price of food. The rich will just pay more and the poor people will eat less and starve. It wouldn't be so bad if there were cheap, viable and environmental alternatives. But there aren't. A hybrid car is already more expensive than a gas-powered car. But the federal government was giving a $2000 rebate should you buy one. The price was still more than a cheaper gas car and the federal government decided it sends a better message to get rid of the rebate.

Bus/SkyTrain transportation is so expensive that it was still cheaper for me to take my car to New Westminster from Vancouver than to take the bus and its requisite hassles (not reliable, not always in time, strange, sometimes dangerous street people). I'll have to check again but the green alternatives aren't there. Those buses still spew gas. Electric or hydrogen buses would be better.

Perhaps the government thinks it's a fivolous option for people to go to work. There are many smaller areas and farm communities where people must drive to go anywhere. It really doesn't help them and punishes them. Not to mention, the truck drivers that haul goods and food across the country are doing us a service. Perhaps they should stop driving too. Oh no, of course not; the price of everything will just go up.

Should I even mention that this does nothing for the existent problem of pollution and greenhouse gases and it's the least effective (energetic) way of implementing change. I'd like to know what the tax money will go to except lining government coffers. Bringing in better mass transportation and alternatives would make the carbon tax more feasible if it was actually applied to the big users. If even the little people, the poor people and those who have no choice are punished, it just means that in the end as always, the poor will get poorer and the rich will just continue to pay more to consume the same amount.

Sending out Poetry

2008-02-27T11:53:00.000-08:00

This month I decided to concentrate on sending out literary poems. I have scads of them and haven't sent out much for a while. So I did a search through www.duotrope.com and first found the sites that I could submit to electronically. I looked for the highest paying ones of course. This is still a several night project because you have to read each set of guidelines and check the deadlines for submission, any special formatting rules, who the editor is and where exactly to send it.

Then I go through my poems (and if the magazine has samples on the site I read a few) and match the best ones. Plus I read through the poems and do any rewrites that are needed. I reformat them if it's needed, save them into separate documents and send them through email with a cover letter. I then checked the lists for the postal submission magazines. Literary magazines tend to not accept submissions by email. It's the minority that does, but there are more of them than there used to be. I still managed to send out quite a few through email. I'm now sending off another eight by mail. Mail of course means printing out the poems, and a personalized cover letter. Making up SASEs and adding addresses and postage and mailing. In all, this month I've sent out about 23 submissions of poetry with a total of 93 poems going out. Yep, 93! Guinness Book, look out.

I still have some poems sitting around. There are the sex poems that are too descriptive for some markets, a few SF poems, some witch/tarot series poems as well as those I did on Mexico and India. Of the ones still on my desk/computer, some are good to go and some have sat for a long time because they are just...not...right.

It's an elusive thing, and this round I did send out poems that have sat for ten years. In all, I probably have at least another 60 poems at home, including some unfinished ones, and another ten out. I did finish a poem I started last year called Perfect Lover, and another literary one I started two years ago called A Gathering. The second is a 3-4 page poem which I'm quite happy with. And I wrote a new one this week called Medusa that could sell as speculative or literary.

I try to send any poem I can off to literary markets first as they pay much better for poetry on average than a speculative market. I have managed to get $50 for one spec poem and now $100 for a literary poem. On average though, spec poems are around $10 and liiterary $20 and up. I also sent out about ten stories this month. And I continue writing on the erotic novel, but I'm going to have to pull the other novel out this coming week and read over it and the outline and synopsis if I'm going to do the Kansas workshop.

Next month I might delve into the very hard market of children's lit. I have a few stories so it won't take as long. I had this great dream two nights ago and woke up going, this would be a great young adult novel. It had the full plot, conflict and resolution. And can I remember it? No. Wah! But overall, I'm feeling rather accomplished, along with three sales for the month. Wheee!

Center for the Study of Science Fiction, Kansas

2008-02-25T13:17:00.000-08:00

Well, on Saturday as Rhea and I discussed the worldbuilding workshop, then went for drinks and something to eat and to hammer out our second story some more (she threw a left curve into it so we had to sort out where it was NOW going), I talked about organizing the World Fantasy con SF Canada party. SF Canada is a very small country cousin to SFWA, the professional speculative writers organization.

I'm a member at large on our not too active board. We had talked about hosting a room party but our funds are limted as well and I knew no one would do anything unless I jumped on that bandwagon. I told Rhea that I'm doing this, one: because World Fantasy is in Canada this year (Calgary) and we should be highlighting our Canadian writers. It's part of SF Canada's mandates but rarely is much that's spectular done. Limited budget and all.

And I've been to enough WFCs to know what the parties are like. WFC is a professional con--mostly writers, publishers and editors. The schmooze quota can be high. My ulterior motive is that by being the organizer and being there I get to chat more with the editor/publishers. Not that it's been a huge problem in the past. Rhea kind of gave me a verbal bitch slap though, and said, why are you wasting this opportunity and you don't have a manuscript to pedal?

I said, because I'm just trying to keep myself in the saddle and write whatever I can and get something under my belt. Therefore I've been writing erotica because it's easy without getting bogged down in too much research or worldbuidling. I need to reinvigorate my writing, which has been working some. She wanted to know if there was any horror or fantasy in my novel but nooo, it's straight-out erotica. But damn her, she planted a seed in my wee brain.

And then I'm reading through LJ and read Kij's story. Some people have a way of evoking a world that's different than our reality but you swear after reading their tales that it's out there and you just hadn't noticed. Ursula LeGuin did it with Always Coming Home. Kij has done it several times. And then I recalled I'd been curious about the novel writing workshop she teaches in Kansas every summer. It's one of the few universities anywhwere that actually has a Center for the Study of Science Fiction. (Hmm, I hope fantasy is okay though I could argue my novel is SF just as Anne McCaffrey did.)

I gave her a call to just say hi but also to ask if this would be a good thing for me. Well, upshot is that if I can find the $$$ I think I'll take it as it will jumpstart the stalled novel. http://www2.ku.edu/~sfcenter/novel-workshop.htm If nothing else, then by WFC I'll at least have a partially reworked novel for consideration.

Worldbuilding and Writing

2008-02-24T19:49:00.000-08:00

Rhea and I went to Dennis Foon's worldbuilding workshop yesterday at the public library. It was a two-hour free session sponsored by the Writers' Trust http://www.writerstrust.com/ . Dennis Foon has written a fair number of young adult books and done a lot of TV/movie scriptwriting. I've never read anything of his but he makes a living at writing.

The workshop may have been good for people newer to writing but it really was nothing new to me or Rhea. I was hoping there might be something on structuring or other aspects that he considers in creating a world. We all wrote a couple of short pieces where he would set the scene by saying, "It's the morning after a major catastrophe. What are the feelings of the person, what were they doing before the catastrophe struck?"

So, it wasn't a waste of time and maybe I'll have a story out of it but I'm not sure it gave me anymore depth. I still want to find a workshop that will help me develop more, either depth in my stories or plots that flow better. Or both of course. I keep analyzing my stuff hoping to get the key to the kingdom. If I find a good workshop that might be my vacation time this year.

The Life of a Writer

2008-02-12T23:31:00.000-08:00

On Mondays I teach dance. Afterward, I take my laptop and go off to a local cafe/restaurant, have a couple of drinks and work on a novel. If I don't do this I'll get distracted with many other writing projects.

At the moment, I'm continuing the collaborative writing with Rhea Rose on our joint story, though she just threw me a curve ball from our discussed plot so I have to chat with her before I proceed. I'm also working on two stories started nearly a lifetime ago. One is nearly done and I'm hoping to finish it in the next week. It's the retelling of a tale about an old Germanic hearth goddess.

I'm not writing any poetry at the moment but rewriting a bit. And I've been concentrating on going through my bookmarked literary markets the past couple of nights, tossing the broken links and moving the ones that take online subs into a separate folder. And when I find one, I send them off a few poems.

For example, tonight I sat down at 8:00 pm and started going through the markets, continuing from where I left off the other night. It's 11:30 now and I've weeded through them all and sent out poems to about four magazines. That's about four poems per magazine and they're already written. I also submitted two stories to two other magazines. But just doing that, searching through, finding the right poems, reading through them, making a few changes, reading other guidelines took three and a half hours.

When I submit stories/poetry in paper format it takes even longer because I must take the template letter, fill in the titles on each one, print the poems and letters off, match them out, fill out envelopes, make up SASEs, put stamps on, put the material inside, seal them up and take them to the post office. Usually I'll do a batch of about ten magazines and it will take me three solid nights to get everything sorted.

Writing is about 40% and 60% perseverance. And now I'm going to bed, reading a bit before to keep the brain percolating.

New Writing Sales

2008-02-10T01:25:00.000-08:00

I just received word today that my SF story "Ice Queen" will be in the Warrior Wise Woman anthology by Norilana books. It's due in June. http://www.norilana.com/norilana-ww-guidelines.htm shows the cover for the book.

Sometimes my emails don't seem to make it across the water so I checked with the editor of the Mammoth Book of the Kama Sutra and my story "Janukurpara" (the knee elbow position) will be published in that anthology. It's about to go to the publisher and has been edited so I presume it will be out in a couple of months.

A good weekend over all for publishing. Just when I was doubting once again, a somewhat roller coaster state for many writers.

Words and Meaning

2008-02-09T12:09:00.001-08:00

Fellow SF Canada member Jo Beverly has a site that highlights romance authors, as she wears several authorial hats. It's well laid out and intriguing. Last week, Jo interviewed a guest, John Dierdorf. The interview is on Word Wenches and is very amusing. I knew the meanings of words in English had changed over time but not that much. Just wait until you see that vagina was a common term for... well, go to Word Wenches and read the interview. http://wordwenches.typepad.com/word_wenches/2008/02/im-delighted-to.html

John's site is called You Can't Say That. Not only is it highly entertaining and informative, but if you're a writer creating any story in the past, it would be a helpful tool for finding out how people of the time viewed the meanings, and then figuring out how much you should put in without losing your modern reader.
http://www.io.com/~dierdorf/nono.html

Writing Collaborations

2008-02-08T14:35:00.000-08:00

Rhea Rose and I are friends and writing buddies. Over the years we co-wrote, produced and acted in a Fringe Festival Play (Snow White and Rose Red are in the Bar Having a Drink), spurred each other on to writing poems and stories and generally kept the writing spark alive.

We've never co-wrote a poem but we would each pick a word (or sometimes an image) and then write a poem with those two words in it. So at one point I said, "bad lemons" and Rhea said, "dragonfly" and two poems were born. Sometimes the poems come quickly and sometimes we drag them out but it inspired us to write new poetry with images we might not have thought to put together by ourselves.

We decided to co-write a story. Mostly we have writing styles that mesh. This is good for flow and style, but perhaps it makes us too interchangeable. Still, a story that's not completely plotted out gains new elements, ideas and directions from each person.

The first story is still out on its maiden flight. We decided to write science fiction because the market these days is glutted with fantasy. However, neither of us are hard science, major tech writers. The characters are still the most important aspect of the story. The first genesis took some work and a lot of discussion.

We set deadlines: You must get the story back to me by this date and you have to have written a page. Rhea started with a paragraph. Then I wrote about a page and we sent it back and forth until it was done. One of us would call the other going, "Uh, what did you intend by adding this thing?" Or, "I haven't a clue what you're talking about here. Explain it to me."

Once the story was done, we each took a turn reading over it from the beginning, fleshing it out, tightening it up, clarifying ideas and descriptions. Then I proofread it and sent it out.

We're now working on our second story and like the poems, we each chose an image. We then sat around for a couple of nights discussing the ideas, characters, conflicts and plot, getting an idea of what the story would be, thinking of the implications of the science. Will this work? But why are they doing that? And always reminding ourselves to keep it fairly simple. Don't overcomplicate the plot.

We're still in progress. I started the story from the notes we kept, and then sent it to Rhea. She wrote more and sent it back to me. I worked over it some more, with a bit of a Eureka moment about the plot. It's now back with her. I think this story will even be stronger than the last and I like where we're headed with it. Usually whenI start a story I know about how long it will be. It's not so easy to tell when two brains are thinking on it. If nothing else, it has us fired up and our creative juices are flowing.

Bear, April 28,1948-December 18, 2007

2008-02-06T14:03:00.000-08:00

JOHN BEAR CURTIS

Some of us knew him as John Curtis, Little John, Bear, or Manbear. A man larger than life at 6’7” would of course have to have more than one name. This man we knew by different names touched us all; it’s why we are here today (Bear's celebration took place in Vancouver on January 6th), though there are many more people that he touched as actor, musician, artist, mentor, storyteller and companion on so many levels it would be hard to discern them all.

Bear was a man of possessions, and laid claim to us, as we all have to him by being here, by calling him friend and brother, mentor and companion. Friends mattered a great deal to him and he was comfortable in any size group. Self-possessed with a taste for things larger than life, Manbear enjoyed hearing or playing a joke, jamming with friends, or being in his wonderful enchanted garden. Anyone who has ever been to Bear and Louise’s knows of the great museum it is; every surface is covered with ornaments, every wall with pictures, drums or collages of his making. Nothing is placed slapdash but laid out in a great labyrinth of colour, design and significance.

Never a lover of the capricious Mickey Mouse, Bear instead backed the temperamental Donald Duck. Some would say the duck was similar to the great John Curtis himself with both full of comic moments and an incredible temper. But his interests didn’t just stop at the cartoon characters. You might have been lucky enough to see the mountie on a horse with Prince Charles’ face, designed by Bear.

His collections went deeper to dragons, Beatlemania, numerous albums, exquisite creations in glass and his large repository of bones and skeletons; an homage to the animals with which we share the world. True to his Cherokee heritage, his role as pipe carrier and firekeeper, and as one who completed the four-year sundance, Bear honoured his ancestral roots, taking great pride and solemnity in walking the walk in the best way he could.

When I kept having visions of Native images, I asked Bear if it was possible to explore this and me just a white girl. He never once scoffed or condescended but took me to healing circles, dances and sweats. He very often knew what gift to give people. Whether his great visionary talent manifested in buckskin, feather, bone, wood or stone, Manbear honoured all these ways and brought visions and worlds to show the rest of us.

He had a gruff and stoic exterior at times, one where he rarely complained of his aches or pains, that caused him to snap grumpishly. Yet he could at the same time show compassion and had a great legacy of giving. Not a wealthy man in the ways of the material world, Bear was richer in so many ways by caring, his interest in life, his love of beauty and the depth of the enduring friendships he held. He loved to play music and chat with people, which sometimes was more them chatting and him listening.

Like his namesake, he loved his den, and like most Bears he didn’t seem cuddly on the outside. But many here remember a big bearhug or smooch from him. His great love was for his son Jesse and wife Louise. He hated to show that soft side in front of other people. Bear would get mad at Louise when she sometimes became too cutesy or revealed some little tradition that just the two of them share. Why’d he get mad? Because he wanted to maintain that grumpy bear image and yet, we knew there was a loving man in there.

All that Bear did, the many interests and events in which he interacted were larger than life, just as he was. All that he did was bear sized, and he remains in our hearts this way. By sharing our stories of Bear we keep him alive, with memories and love, for in the end, that’s all that any of us are.

Journey well, Bear.

Why I Won't Buy Saturn Again

2008-02-04T12:37:00.000-08:00

I have a 2003 Saturn Ion 3. When I bought it in 2004 it was a demo model with about 4,000 km on it. That the salesperson changed three times before I bought it should have been an indicator to me where Saturn was headed, and it seems to be...out of the world.

The dealership then closed. I had a VIP membership for lifetime free oil changes but had to go to the Morrey dealerships for that, Morrey Nissan. But the car was on warranty and I had to go to a Saturn dealership for any warranty work. Neither of these places were in the same city of course.
Under warranty I took the car in four times because the back passenger door didn't seal correctly and was most noticeable at high speeds. Four times and they never did fix it correctly. Now, if I open the door I have to push the loose molding back into place before shutting the door and it will minimize the air blowing through.

Under warranty I took the car in at least four times because it would idle high when cold out. It would not start high but after I'd driven it even a few minutes it would idle high when stopped at lights. If I shut off the car, it would reset. It only happened when cold, which told me that there was something wrong with the idle or throttle and cold weather caused it to freeze or stick. I took a small automotive course in high school and have enough of a logical mind that I can figure out basic mechanical. Somehow though, these days mechanics can't seem to use a brain to figure out a problem unless they plug it into a computer.

So I drove the car in one day and didn't shut it off and lo and behold they could find the problem. It was fixed but then the weather turned warm and I couldn't test it until the fall when it was cold again. And guess what, problem not fixed. Oh and the car, no longer under warranty and the part isn't working right and it has no warranty. So why would I bother to fix the part again, knowing that if it blows it's still not under any warranty and that I can keep paying and paying for the same part. That's what the service people told me.

Now my car was at about 70,000 km when the fan in the car stopped working. I could get heat but no fan to blow it around. But of course it wasn't the fan itself that wasn't working. It was the computer component and would cost over $600 to fix. On top of that I made an appointment and had to wait over four hours for them to check the car. Then they charged me $60 for telling me it would cost $600. The car's warranty ends at 60,000 km I believe.

I contacted Saturn/GM Canada and their generous offer was to go 50/50 on the fan part. That's it. Nothing on the other things they never managed to fix. And basically they're saying, well we won't make money on this part but we won't go out of the way to satisfy you.

Although the guys were nice and friendly at Lansdowne Saturn in Richmond, the service wasn't that great and one day, while waiting in Richmond to get picked up and taken back to my car, it took them over an hour. I was no more than ten minutes a way. One service guy condescended to me in explaining that the car might just be idling high because it was cold. As if I'm not aware of the difference between a cold idle and a stuck throttle.

So, this is why I won't buy Saturn again. Poor service, poor repair record, a very short warranty and no customer satisfaction from Saturn Canada.

Of the car itself, it's mileage was okay, it has a huge blind spot for turning corners, the visors only work if you're six feet tall. I loved the adjustable heat vents that could blow right on my hands. The door locks are stupidly designed and the pockets on the side doors are smaller than any map should you want to store them there. But a car under warranty comes part and parcel with the dealership and I wasn't convinced that with Saturn's lagging sales that I'll ever buy another Saturn again.

New Sales

2008-02-03T18:41:00.000-08:00

I have sold my flash fiction piece "Amuse-Bouche" to Shroud Magazine. http://www.shroudmagazine.com/home It should be out in issue #2.

I have also received confirmation that my story "Strict Management" will come out in the Cleis Press anthology Open for Business.

I'm still awaiting contracts for both of these so I have no more details as of yet.

December slowed down my posting to this site for several reasons. It took far longer to get my Ireland pictures up than I intended. I was behind on reading through the slush pile for Aberrant Dreams. As well it was the usual end of year season with parties and get togethers and shopping. On top of that my place was broken into before Christmas and my new camera with which I took the Ireland photos was stolen, along with two necklaces. I cannot afford at this time to replace my camera and I was hoping to become more proficient in digital and put my old Photography degree to work and start getting some of my pictures into the stock photo market.

That's on hold for now. And then my dear friend Bear, who had been in the hospital for fourteen months, died on Dec. 18th. It was a hard time and I'm still grieving. I broke a molar over the holidays, which I still must get the money for first before I can get it crowned. So December was a hard month in an otherwise good year. For me it was a productive year with more fiction/poetry sales than ever before and therefore the most money I've made in a year on publishing. As well it was the most money I made in nonfiction writing as well and let me buy the camera, a carpet, get some dental work done and go to Ireland.

I hope I can beat some my last year's records. Two confirmed sales for January is a good start.

Glasgow & the End of a Journey

2008-01-25T10:09:00.000-08:00

Our last day in Glasgow started with the museum and then we went off to St. Mungo's religious museum. Housed in the oldest standing building in Glasgow, it was a fairly bland exhibition and the building wasn't that interesting. So we walked up the street and over to the Glasgow Cathedral, but it was late in the day and it turned out it closed at 4:00. The guy was really just locking up so he said you have five minutes.

I zoomed around taking pictures, without actually really looking at the place. The Cathedral is supposed to be one of the few gothic cathedrals in Scotland, especially one that is whole and still used. It was built in 1471 and really is a fine example of gothic architecture. I wished I'd had more time to actually look.

Ireland 2007--Glasgow

After that we tried to find our way back to Will and Erin's. Unfortunately I'd forgotten their phone number. We also got lost because a helpful lady had told us what bus to catch back but it turned out there were two buses with the same name and a different ending, thus splitting and going varying routes. Which meant backtracking.

My sister was done. We had to walk about three blocks to catch another bus, after doing a partial return route. She thought we'd been walking for hours when it was less than ten minutes. :) A very drunk Scotsmen chatted with us (we had to catch a bus outside a pub, of course) and it turned out it was the other bus stop across the street from the pub. So he was a very drunk, yet helpful Scotsman.

So we finally made it back, with Will and Erin wondering what had happened to us. The next morning we flew out on Air Transat but not without issues. My sister had called them several times before she'd left and confirmed how many bags she could take on the plane, and on carry-on. She confirmed with the person on the phone and asked about leaving from Scotland. He confirmed with his supervisor that yes, she could take a bag and her camera bag as well.

Well, it turns out they have their own rules. My sister ended up paying overweight baggage because of it and was rightfully furious because she had to pack one back into everything else. My recommendations: don't fly Air Transat if you're flying more than two hours. The seats are small even for someone 5'4". If you need a special diet, they'll lose it or muck it up badly. And someone travelling with you will probably get a special diet they didn't order, as I did. They'll tell you one thing and do another and not be the least helpful or apologetic for it. The seats cost extra so that super cheap flight turns out not that cheap in the end.

Europe and Great Britain especially have tighter baggage allowances and the airline won't always know what it is or get the info confused. The attendants on Air Transat were very nice and helpful but everything else convinced me I won't be flying with them again.

At least the return trip was more pleasant. The plane wasn't completely full so I went and chatted with this Scottsman, Ian MacIntosh who lived in Calgray. That way, my sister and I both had extra room.

Over all, Ireland was a great trip. The trip was from Sept. 26-Oct. 16 and it's taken me this long to post my pictures. I want to go back and explore more of western Ireland and some of the south. I think I'd fly into Wales and then from Wales to the west of Ireland. Of course I'll have to buy a camera again, but that's a tale for tomorrow...

Glasgow & the Kelvingrove Museum

2008-01-22T13:53:00.000-08:00

Ireland 2007--Glasgow Museum

Our lovely trip to Ireland ended and on Monday morning we flew back to Glasgow to Will and Erin's place, wonderful people to put us up in their wee flat. I think my sister and I were a bit dragged out and didn't really do more that snooze until they got home. If I recall Erin was still in Iceland(?) that night.

The next day we trundled off with directions and map, taking the bus to the Glasgow museum (which I now remember is called the Kelvingrove Museum). It was a cold day and just as well as a transition out of Ireland. Ireland seemed cozier and smaller (and warmer!). Glasgow's a pretty large modern city. Even Dublin held more of a sense of age. So in a way it was good to transition back to Vancouver.

The museum was interesting. Some things the same as all. A section on indigenous wildlife, including all the extinct indigenous wildlife. Humans have wiped out so many species and it continues. It's sad to see that. If we could learn to populate less, farm/hunt more efficiently and in a renewable way, we might exist another thousand years but I'm having my doubts right now.

There were some interesting paintings and sculptures in the museum too. The small section on women's early subjugation and suffragette movements was eye opening. I knew there were a lot of "Victorian" inventions with things like the chastity belt and that any earlier versions have never been found. If I was exploring this farther I'd want to know more of the history and dating of the objects.

The Art Nouveau/Deco section and the stuff on Renne MacIntosh, Scotland's darling were wonderful. I'm very partial to Art Nouveau so spent a lot of time there drooling on things. And of course seeing the jacket from hmm, what era, the Reformation, the 17th century was cool as the only piece of clothing I saw there. I think there might have been a bit I missed.

After we wandered around Glasgow and had the most awful Scottish-Mexican food. A breaded cheeseball with salsa. Potatoes with salsa. My sister got glutened so it added trips to the loo. The rest of the pictures and the trip will be in the last batch and then I'm done.

Dublin & Keating's Bar

2008-01-21T10:04:00.001-08:00

Sunday October 14, nearing the end of our trip and our last night in Ireland. We had come back to Dublin a day earlier hoping to have some time to see a few more sights but what with getting lost over and over again, we really had time only to pack, drop off the car and get something to eat. We were downtown on a Sunday and couldn't find much. So we ate at a diner with unremarkable food.

Ireland 2007--Keating's Bar

We then caught a taxi (turns out it was only a few blocks away) to Keating's Bar because my friend Will in Glasgow had said check it out. It turns out the be an old church that fell into disrepair. Eventually it was bought by a local restaruateur and restored, keeping both the history of the place preserved and opening an establishment that has more parishioners of food than anything else. The crypt in the basement (with tombs in the floor) is the wine bar. The large open space bathrooms are down there where you walk in and go right if you're a man and left if you're a woman. When you're at the sinks you can see men and women.

The main floor has a loong loval bar down the middle and the top floor, overlooking the main floor is the dining area. If we had known there'd be food we would have eaten there and had a better meal.

We had an early flight the next day so we caught a taxi back to the B&B and that was that. There are about two days left of pictures from Glasgow and then it will be back to regular writing.

Kilkenny

2008-01-18T13:47:00.000-08:00

As I said, Kilkenny was a college town and we arrived on a Saturday. After we'd settled in at our B&B we went to find dinner. Everything was packed because it was Saturday but we managed to get into an Italian restaurant. It was fairly nice and my sister managed to get a gluten-free meal in an Italian restaurant. Amazing.

While we were there I noticed this man eating his pasta and skewering something from a bowl. I finally figured out he was eating French fries. Then two women came in and one ordered pasta and another pizza. They had a bowl of boiled potatoes brought to go with their meal. How do the Irish manage to stay so thin? Probably the fuel to keep them warm considering the price of heating.

Ireland 2007--Kilkenny

Afterward we were told there was live music as a couple of places. We hunted them down but it turned out to be mostly discos with security guards standing outside. Yeesh. I didn't want that so we popped into a quieter pub. Well, it was so quiet I mentioned it was downright funereal. We were finishing up our last drink when these guys sent over some drinks.

It turned out the three of them were from Belfast and down for the races. They were very nice, didn't hide that two of them were married and bought us drinks. I was talking to the cop from Belfast but as the pub closed he said let's go dancing. I said sure so we left. But it turned out the whole town was closing up, and it was very very foggy, and I had over two pints of cider sitting in my bladder. Since none of us knew the town enough to know what was open we said goodbye.

My sister and I found the car (with burgeoning bladders) and tried to find our way back uphill in the fog. It was so thick we drove past our B&B and really were only a block away when I had to pull the car over, run up someone's lawn and piss by the bushes. It was like Austin Powers, with the stream never ending. Sorry folks, it was the less embarassing option and the fog hid the dirty deed. Then I found our place and my sister ran up the stairs while I parked. She made it just in time too. :)

The next day we took in Kilkenny castle. No pictures are allowed and they make you check your camera. The castle was sold off by some descendant of the Butlers who held it for centuries, early in the 1900s I think. It's been renovated and refurbished and some orginal pieces bought back. Many were auctioned off and the Irish OPW keeps hoping to find some of the original piecies. There was a very long drawing room, filled with paintings on the walls. They said it was only about a third of how many were in there. Overall, they've redone the castle in a Baroque/Rococco style when it was probably at the last of its opulence.

It was a good tour and I wished I'd recorded it. There's so much that you forget. After Kilkenny we headed back to Dublin. It was a bit longer of a drive and we got into the city okay but true to Dublin, promptly got lost several times. Finally, after asking directions often we got to our B&B and then took the car back downtown to where we had to drop it off. Yeesh, none of the directions matched what we were told so we had to drive around three times to find the drop-off point. And of course that meant going some very long blocks out of our way. I don't relish ever driving in Dublin.

Waterford

2008-01-17T12:03:00.000-08:00

Ireland 2007--Waterford Crystal

Waterford was one of the last stops on the Irish trip on a Saturday. We didn't know if the cyrstal factory was open as some guidebooks and maps said no and others said yes. It turned out it was so we zipped in after the Lismore adventures and a short stop at Carrick on Suir to see the disappointing and locked (and fenced) supposed Castle Ormonde. Previous incarnations were probably a real castle but this was nothing more than a manor house. Booo!

So we made it to Waterford with enough time to browse the shops and go on the hour tour. I have a fair number of friends who are glass artists so it was quite amazing to see a glassblowing factory of this size. There were several buildings and although it was a Saturday there was at least one, or more people working in each section.

There was the special section for one of a kind molds, then the assembly line building for blowers blowing into molds. There was a large are with row on row of cutters and another smaller room for engravers. As well there was a quality inspection area. Every piece is inspected and must pass high standards. Every piece is hand blown or molded and hand cut or engraved. Then these pieces of crystal are put through a hydrochloric acid bath that takes off the sharp edges and white brushed look to the glass. I remember some older pieces of crystal goblets my mother had, having sharp edges. obviously the acid baths are of a new era.

I ran into a glass artist here in Vancouver who said they did an order for Waterford. Waterford Crystal's Q&A team came over and the studio only had a 50% acceptance rate, the controls were so stringent. It was quite amazing to watch the cutting and engraving and the sheer size of the factory. I was curious how they got the rounded edges on the cuts. Now I know but I still don't find crystal that appealing. Meh.

We drove on that evening to Kilkenny, home of the beer, of course. We almost lost our luck for B&Bs. We tried two pubs for asking and were told everything was full. It was always better to ask where there were older people serving as the younger ones weren't that friendly or helpful. We drove to three B&Bs that were all full and finally found a nice little house with a very friendly couple. Turns out Kilkenny is a college town where everyone comes on the weekend to party. And yes, it was the weekend.

Dungarvin, Lismore and the Benedictine Abbey

2008-01-11T14:58:00.000-08:00

Ireland 2007--Dungarvin, Lismore & the Benedictine Abbey

After Cashel, we went on to Dungarvin, a cute little coastal town in the south of Ireland. It was warm here and the accents on some people, like one fisherman, were very thick. We drove up to Bridie Dees, with its colourful front of black and red and had a drink. There was a little fireplace at the back with a pot of coal and a shovel to take the chill off. I don't even know if this place had any other type of heat but it was pleasant at this time of year. I believe we were on to Friday night by now, though I've lost track in this journey.

We asked the bartender if there were any B&Bs and he suggested a place two doors down. We called around a few places but they seemed to be a little more expensive and 40 Euros each was about our top limit. I couldn't find the place (because he'd given me the name of another one) so he walked me down the two doors. There were many many stairs as this was more like a small hotel above a pub. Any place that has a pub underneath is less personal and more hotelly in all.

I carted my sister's suitcase up the stairs so that it would minimize how many times her now sore knee would have to deal with them. I think we went back to Bridies and had another drink. I don't remember at all where we ate but we went to another pub. (is this where we met Dungarvin Dan?) There was this older farmer fellow (tweed jacket and cap, baggy worn corduroy trousers and wellies) in one place who was barely decipherable. He bought us a drink and talked about Irish hospitality, which was about all we could understand.

We then went to another pub that had live music and listened to a group called the Rogues. They were rather good and played some fast paced music, so that I couldn't stand it anymore and just got up and danced. Unfortunately they were out of CDs or I would have bought one.

The next day, Saturday we scooted out of Dungarvin, then went to Lismore but the castle is still occupied (and very spiff overlooking the river) so we couldn't go in. There was supposed to be an abbey but either the lads thought it closed or they thought we meant the Benedictine abbey which was down a winding road but not in Lismore. It was all right but not particularly old. The little winding roads can take a long while at times.

It was a pleasant and warm drive. Our next stop, Waterford.

Blarney Castle

2008-01-09T15:14:00.000-08:00

It turns out my pictures are a bit in the wrong order. There was the day that included Limerick and King John's castle (getting there in the nick of time) and then driving to Blarney and finding we just had enough time to get to the castle. So Blarney was the end of our day and thenwe did Cashel the next day. I think.

Ireland 2007--Blarney Castle

The weather was so warm this day and we got there just before the sun was setting. They said, you have about a half hour for the castle but the grounds are open longer. The grounds were very peaceful and evocative. The castle itself was impressive for it height (destroyed in 1446 and never reconstructed from the looks of it. It was here that the Blarney Stone kissed me when I was snooping in dark and narrow passageways.

After the stars stopped spinning about me I went into the castle. There were only a couple of other people and at one point this guy yelled down, Are you going up or down? I said up and he said, hurry because I'm closing. So up and up and up and up I went. My sister had wandered off, having both a bum knee and a fear of heights, she couldn't have done Blarney.

I have to say the view was spectacular the the grounds exquisiste. I love some of the pictures from the top in my faves of Ireland. I didn't kiss the stone at the top, where you lay over this open grate to the grounds hundreds of feet below. I said to the guy, I hear the local lads do other things on the stone. He said not since he'd been there and since the grounds (and later the castle) were locked I could see that it's probably not done anymore.

A couple of women completed the ritual as I wandered and took pictures and started down. I didn't realize it but everyone had left except for the Blarney guy and me. He accidentally found me on the way down and said, you better hurry, I almost locked you in. So I trundled down and spent another 20 minutes on the grounds.

It was starting to get cold and dark and it was time to go. My sister might have thought I'd been locked in but I eventually found her outside the property gates. As we walked back to the car the Blarney guy drove by and beeped his horn, then turned around and went back the other way, beeping his horn at me again. Friendly fellow. We then drove on to Cashel and found a place to stay.

Limerick

2008-01-07T23:03:00.001-08:00

I seem to have got myself out of order. Limerick was before Cashel and Blarney was after Limerick. I'll probably fudge the dates in a day or two to get these right. So without further ado, here's King John's Castle. We were in and out of Limerick in about two hours. The pictures (and the captions) speak for themselves.

Ireland 2007--King John's Castle

The Rock of Cashel

2008-01-02T15:48:00.001-08:00

Cashel was a lovely town (I've now officially lost track of the days). The Rock of Cashel is the mound on which the castle is built. It's suffered some weather damage over the years from wind (parts blown down) and rain. It's a sprawling place and cold. It was a windy enough day there but we could see from all sides, overlooking the town or the country. I didn't do as well a job of editing these photos so there are a lot of pictures of fresco details and pillars.

Ireland 2007--Cashel

Viewing over the cemetery, the distant hills show a dip. We were told that the tale goes that one day the devil was walking along, in a foul mood and took a big bite out of the hills. That dip is called the Devil's Bite and when the devil spit out the chomp he took, it made the Rock of Cashel.

Brian Boru, and his grandson were some of the Munster kings that ruled from here. But his grandson gave the castle over to the Bishop of Limerick. The town itself was fairly small and we were hardpressed to find a place to eat that night, but ate at the Town Hall a higher end but very good restaurant.

We'd had a drink in one of local pubs earlier and many of the pubs in this area of Ireland have little hearths and some that burn coal still. We spent several hours at Cashel and then moved on to Limerick.

Delays, Death and Life

2008-01-02T14:37:00.000-08:00

Unfortunately I hoped to get all of the pictures of Ireland up before the end of the year. But first my place was broken into and my camera stolen (I had it for all of four months). I did have all the Ireland photos uploaded so I didn't lose them but I did lose the Nikon D80 and two lenses.

The next week a good friend died and then it was the holidays. It's been a bit of a tumultous winter with everything. But I'm going to endeavour to get the pictures up and then on to other matters.

Bunratty Castle

2007-12-11T10:15:00.000-08:00

After we left Ennis we made our way to Bunratty Castle, a huge tourist attraction in the town of Bunratty. They have a folk park set up with 19th century cottages. It was quite large and we actually didn't get through all of it as we were trying to make our way to Limerick afterwards.

Ireland 2007--Bunratty Castle

The castle itself was impressive for the work that's been done in restoring it. It was the most interesting for various rooms. After we left the castle, I looked at a map again and realized I'd missed a few rooms, although I was sure I'd gone through all for towers and the staircases, but it was a maze, probably done on purpose in case it was besieged.

Bunratty had their own mead but we didn't have time to stop at the meadery. Next time I'd alot more time to see this and the rest of the village. Some of the cottages has various wares to sell in them, whether food or woolens or other souvenir items.

Ennis

2007-12-03T15:44:00.000-08:00

Ireland 2007--Ennis

Ennis is in the southwest of Ireland and we stayed the night after our long drive through the Burren. We found a little B&B a little farther out of the town center. All the Irish towns have the oldest buildings at the center and the newer more moderns ones the farther out you go. Rose cottage wasn't a cottage but had a small dining area as well as a pub downstairs and quite lovely and clean rooms upstairs. The food seemed kind of Americanized so we went into town and found one of few restaurants open. The food was extremely good, one of those higher end restaurants. Olddly I don't seem to remember the name of any of the places we ate.

After dinner my sister and I wandered up the street to a cute little pub. There were people playing inside but as opposed to an organized band they were more just jamming. A fiddler or two, I think one on bodhran but it was very low key and background. I don't even remember much about that pub.

The next day we wandered about the town which still has many medieval buildings. I think it was my favourite town for the looks and being just a pretty place. There were many interesting shops and I wouldn't have minded more time there. We found our way to the Ennis Friary by asking the Garda since we somehow couldn't find a street that went through and it turns out there is the old one, the ruins, and the new one which is still in use.

I believe this was the beginning of our second week. No on Thursday Oct. 4. The pictures all have captions that pretty much says the rest so I'll stop here except for saying when I go back I'm going to spend more time in this town.

Dysert O'Dea

2007-11-30T09:46:00.000-08:00

We accidentally found Dysert O'Dea (pronounced O'Day), which was good as it was in the guidebook as having this wonderful doorway. But it was at the end of the day and Oct. so as we drove up to this rather small castle, we knew it was closed. There was a guy sitting in a Hummer like truck parked at the front of the castle. He was nice enough to move out of the way so we could take pictures.

Then he tolds us where the high cross and church were that we might very well have missed if we'd driven out. We did drive to a cattle gate and pulled to the side of the road. This was a real farm road so in some ways it was much bigger.

Ireland 2007--Dysert O'Dea

The castle was newer than the church which was newer than St. Tola's high cross and the ruins of the tower, which were from the 12th century. The cross holds an carving of Christ and of a bishop (St. Tola) who founded the monastery centuries before, I believe.The doorway was in good shape and very cool with all the faces. Each one was different and some human, others animals.

I'm not sure if we were in the Burren anymore or just out of it but there was such a distortion of time for us looking at the maps. A map of all of BC and a map of Ireland are the same size on paper. But a one-inch distance on a BC map could be 2 hours of driving, whereas on the Irish map it's probably 15 minutes.

Which means we managed to go from Carrowmore in the rainy morning, to Dunguaire, Kinvara, Ailwee Caves, Poulnabrone Burren, Carran Church, Dysert O'Dea castle and church all in one day. We were getting into the very tail of the day. We rarely stopped for lunch. After Dysert O'Dea we drove to the town of Ennis and found a place for the evening.

Burren, Poulnabrone Dolmen and Carran Church

2007-11-28T15:39:00.000-08:00

After we left the caves we wended our way through the Burren. There are rock walls absolutely everywhere, and then the Burren stone with plants in each hardened rivulet. We actually passed a sign for an old stone ring fort but because there were so many walls we couldn't find it, as it was inseperable from the rest of the walls. We also went down a wrong road when we had to backtrack and only knew it when we came across some white bagged hay (or something) since the hills looked so much alike.

Ireland 2007--Burren, Poulnabrone Dolmen & Carran Church

We had to work around a few sheep. They proved why they have remained on the evolutionary ladder at a low rung. Some didn't bother to move. Others would run frantically along the road (all with their butts dabbed in green or red paint) and then stop and chew. It's like their wee brains went, Ack! A metal monster! Oooh look nice greens to chew. Two second memories, I tell you.

I've already gushed about the Burren but there is a sense of such age and endurance in this area, and beauty mixed with the severity of the landscape in spots that I can certainly see how tales of fairy folk would spring up. Poulnabrone was down one road and we almost missed it too, except it stood a little above the hill. This is called a portal tomb because it looks to be a doorway. It dates back 5000 years and has stood against humans and elements all that time. The ground around the dolmen was amazing and I would definitely see this again for its sheer alieness and stunning landscape.

The day was winding down but we still had an hour or two of sunlight. As we were driving out of the Burren we found Carran Church. I couldn't find much infomration on the church but I'm guessing it's at least 400 years old. One of the pictures shows the brown signs that marked scenic or historical sites. Not a big ruin, it was near someone's home so I pulled into the driveway (remember no shoulders on these roads) and took some pictures. The wall had the usual stone stile to climb over. I also met some stinging nettle (through my yoga pants) when I went around the outer wall. Ended up with a burning thigh for a few hours.

And onward we went. We were yet to do Dysert O'Dea before we called it a day.

Dunguaire & Ailwee Caves

2007-11-27T15:05:00.000-08:00

Ireland 2007--Dunguaire & Ailwee Caves

After Carrowmore, on Wednesday Oct. 3, we headed toward the Burren. It was raining in Carrowmore but the weather was wonderfully clear and fairly warm once we hit the west coast. Here is where the maps screwed us up quite a bit. Dunguaire was shown as being on the other side of Kinvara, a small little fishing village. But instead it was right at the edge of the village. Nothing was really placed correctly so we had to ask as usual. Outside of Dunquaire castle was a cute little bird just singing his head off. It really set the joyful atmosphere of the place.

Dunguaire castle was closed, as of the day before, alas, but the water was beautiful, a deep azure and choppy. I would definitely go back to actually see Kinvara the next time around as we whizzed through it. It took meandering along very curvy roads and a few wrong turns to find the Ailwee Caves. These were carved by underground rivers millions of years ago. European brown bears were thought to be extinct in Ireland for the last 1200 years but they found bones in a hibernation spot that date back only 1000 years. Still it's sad to thing how many large species once populated Ireland and were wiped out in the past 5000 years.

The caves were quite large and there were deposits forming stalagmites and stalactites. White fossils graced the brown and black stone. But they really rushed you through straight out of and back into the gift store of course. There wasn't really time even to take a proper picture and for the price they charged (not an OPW site) they could have given a few more minutes.

We drove through the Burren (or Burren), which looks like a volcanoe blorped out mud millions of years ago and then it solidified. There's a pictuer in here of this and you can see the top of the hill is grey, just like the mud. Because of the stone the Burren was written about through the ages as being inhospitable with no land to grow on and yet people lived there. Rock and rock walls abounded.

Drving into this area reminded me a bit of the Okanagan. It had a certain craggy austerity in parts but I loved this area. Tomorrow, more of the Burren and surrounding area.

Slieve League and Carrowmore

2007-11-19T10:39:00.000-08:00

On Tuesday Oct. 2 we bopped around Donegal for part of the day, using an internet cafe, seeing Donegal castle (which we drove around three times because we couldn't find it behind the trees and the wall, and then couldn't find the parking), and doing a wee bit of shopping.

I tried to call a woman near Carrick on Shannon. I'd been given her name by a friend but the one thing we never mastered were the phones. It was a phone booth on the street. I tried punching the number. I tried putting money in. I tried various buttons on the phone and only got the long distance operator who I couldn't hear anyways for all of the traffic.So we never did see Bee, but then we didn't pass through her area.

Slieve League was past Killybegs, west of Donegal. We drove out and it was a meandering drive along or near part of the coast. This was tweed country, lots of sheeps and a few tweed shops that we stopped in, partially for directions. So we drove and drove and weren't sure if we there so we asked a man, dressed in that classic old Irish attire of cap, tweed jacket, baggy pants and wellies. In Ireland the standard greetings is "How are you doing?" This man was walking along the small village road. I believe there might have been a total of 20 cottages at most and it was at the end of nowhere.

He said we were on the right road for Slieve League and as it turned out it was only about five minutes past that village, and dead ended there. We were high on cliffs and below was a long reddish sand beach. It was a long hike down the stairs and would have been a long sweat up. We didn't go down as it was getting late in the day.

As we drove back we found the sign to the Bunglass cliffs (which I think really were higher than the others). Since the guy at the tweed shop had mentioned them we decided to go check them out. I'm sure if my sister realized what we were getting into she would have said, skip it.

We drove through a village as tiny as the one at Slieve League, passing dogs, goats and chickens all running about the road. We rounded a corner where the family working in their yard kind of stared at us like we were mad. Then began the ascent.

At first it wasn't too bad but then it wound higher and higher. And then we were on a hairpin where you looked across to the other side of the hairpin with nothing but cliffs done the curve. My sister, who is terrifed of heights, said not a word, breathing heavily and grasp the car door handle so tight I thought she'd take it off.

It was in fact fairly treacherous. I was only going about 5km and if we'd met someone coming the other direction, I'm not sure what we would have done as it wasn't big enough for two. Plus there were the two spots where the car pointed straight at the sky and I had to take it on faith that there was road on the other side. It was easier going down and a pretty good view.

Ireland 2007--Slieve League & Carrowmore

We then started beetling south to outside of Sligo. We wanted to do the Carrowmore passage tombs and thought we go that far for the night and have a head start in the morning. Regrettfully I saw nothing of Galway. We made an error this night by being far too late in travelling. It was dark by the time we ended up in the vicinity and I think we were near Lough Arrow because there was coast on one side. But it was so dark we couldn't see a B&B anywhere and finally found a small pub/tavern with rooms upstairs. It was dirty but it was cold (no heat), the shower didn't work in my sister's room and the rooms were so small we had to lift our suitcases over the bed. We did find a little restaurant farther in (if we'd known we could have checked that area for rooms) that had fairly good food. Many places did a combo course of appetizer and/or dessert plus a main course, so for 25 euros it was okay.

In the morning, Wednesday, we trotted off to Carrowmore and with the customary few wrong turns (though not many) found Carrowmore just as it was opening. And it rained quite heavily while we were walking through the fields. Not as impressive of Newgrange, still I found it interesting and the number of graves brought such a sense of time and history. We finished in under two hours, soaked to our knees, so we changed in the bathroom and then drove on. (I forgot to remove my duplicats so a few pictures will look the same.)

Bushmills, Dunluce and Donegal, Ireland

2007-11-16T09:32:00.000-08:00

Our day started with Kinbane, then Carrick-a-Rede, Giants Causeway and somehow we went on to Bushmills (the town & factory) for a tour. Why? I don't care for whiskey (Scotch is different), my sister's a celiac and can't touch any wheat product.

Although they've been making whiskey since 1675 and it was interesting on how they use bourbon, port and errr, one other type of barrel to age the stuff, and although we got a shot at the end of the tour (I also got my sister's)it was still kind of a waste of time. There really was nothing to take a picture of unless I wanted to do an article on whiskey making (and maybe I should have taken more). But I took no pictures and had my sister shoot this only picture of me in Ireland with the mega bottle of booze.

Ireland 2007--Bushmills, Dunluce Castle and Donegal

So we did the tour, and now it's getting late in the day, about 4:00 and we find our way to Dunluce Castle... to see them locking it up. It was perhaps our biggest regret. If we'd missed the Bushmills tour that we weren't that enthused about we would have had time to explore the castle. And this castle had a cave. How cool is that? Alas we could only peer from the locked gates.

Our last stop was driving on to Donegal town. The pictures of Donegal and the castle are actually from the next day as we arrived with enough time to do our usual. We popped into the Reel Inn, had a drink and asked the bartender to suggest some B&Bs. It also turned out they had live music that night. So we crossed the bridge right outside the door and not believing everything was so close, continued driving up the road, to realize we'd gone too far. We turned around and then found several B&Bs just down the road. We stayed at the Bridges.

These B&Bs are nothing fancy on the outside but quite large houses inside with usually 3-5 bedrooms and a large dining room. Bernie, our host, had two cute little kids (never met the husband) and there was only a common bathroom though many B&Bs have ensuites. My sister and I each had our own room which gave me a reprieve from her snoring. (It's funny that whenever I had to wake her in the middle of the night to try and get her to stop snoring, the first thing out of her mouth, even half asleep, was "I am not." Like I had nothing better to do in the dark of night.)Bernie also washed our clothes for a few Euros each. A very nice place to stay.

So that night we went off to find dinner (quiet on a Monday). Many pubs have dining rooms upstairs. We began to notice that service in Ireland is different than here. They'll serve you but never come back and you have to hunt down the waiter to get your bill or they'll literally let you sit forever. I don't remember the name of the place but I had a mediocre chicken curry with not a speck of vegetables. but true to form it was a huge portion on rice. I ate it all and then they brought me a megasize bowl of French fries! I didn't eat any, being quite full. But there was that Irish thing of potatoes.

We then wandered back to the Reel Inn for the music though we never got farther than a few feet inside the door. I won't relate the tale here again as you'll find it if you go back to the Oct. 2 entry. We staggered into bed, a short walk of a couple minutes from pub to B&B, at 3 am.

Giants Causeway, Northern Island

2007-11-15T09:43:00.000-08:00

Giants Causeway was just west of Carrick-a-Rede. This is all in the county of Antrim, in Northern Ireland. There were tons of people here. That I even managed pictures without anyone in them is something. They have buses that are loaded up and they drive people down the hill for those who don't want the walk down or the hike up. But it's less than 30 minutes to walk one way.

The Causeway stones are basalt and due to an ancient (65 million years) lava flow as well as hot and humid conditions interspersed with colder air, caused the geometric fracturing of the stones. I believe there is in one area like this in Scottland too.

Ireland 2007--Giants Causeway

The pictures are pretty much self-explanatory. Amazing to look out but we didn't do the long hike around to the Chimney and the Organ. Maybe next time. The parts of the Causeway where the stones are pitted reminded me of ancient vertebrae. Definitely worth seeing.

Carrick-a-Rede, Ireland

2007-11-14T10:15:00.000-08:00

Still on Oct. 1, travelling west along the north coast of Ireland, we went next to Carrick-a-Rede, which means something like big rock. Carrich is the name of the island and it's tiny. It has a rope bridge suspended over a churning passage. Really, the bridge is twisted tensile metal strands and very sturdy. I think it was updated in 2000.

Ireland 2007--Carrick a Rede

Used by fisherman since the 16th century, it was once just a rope with some wood slats. Down one side, just before the rope bridge is the husk of a building used for the salmon fishery. I believe this closed down in the 80s or 90s as fisheries all over the world have met similar demises. Fishing by boat was somewhat treacherous so the fishermen used Carrick island to fish from. I'm not sure if they trawled as there does seem to be some evidence of pulleys and such but in any case, Carrick like Kinbane, no longer has a fishing industry.

The walk to Carrick was beautiful. We had great weather and although there in the morning it warmed up quite a bit, especially with the stairs on the return visit. The ocean here was absolutely amazing. The colours in the pictures are quite accurate and it reminded of the water around the Bahamas, but wilder and colder. The white cliffs are limestone and the rest is basalt I believe. On Carrick island the beginnings of the fractured basalt that makes up Giants Causeway could be seen.

This was hike two, after Kinbane but really took only about 45 minutes in all to get to the island and back. The island itself was very hummocky and spongy. They have signs requesting that you protect the environment, which I presumed met walk lightly (as there were many people and would be more in the afternoon) and don't pick anything.

It's a rugged coast and I can see any landing, or a storm tossed night probably claimed its share of ships.

Kinbane Castle

2007-11-13T14:33:00.000-08:00

Ireland 2007--Kinbane Castle

On Monday October 1, we left Ballycastle. At our B&B were a family from Seattle. They'd been driving about for two weeks and were on their third week. They said, stop at Kinbane on the way. It's not very far. And it wasn't.

It was down a long hill. They really didn't want people to go to the castle anymore. There were bars across the path but easy to straddle. As I moved around the hill, there was a second barricade just before the beach. I squeezed past that one, and it was obvious many had.

I loved the look of this castle, built in 1544 by Colla MacDonnell (of Balymargy Friary fame). It was shot at and partially destroyed at one point, but one of the MacDonnells lived there till the end of his days. Mostly what is left is one of the towers. It couldn't have been a very big castle but I can see how this would have been a great fortification. Rugged stony cliffs to the sea and steep steps up to the castle by land.

This castle gave me a great appreciation for the hardiness of those people of centuries past. To hike up and down that hill would definitely make one fit. Even though it was a bit breezy, I was quite warm by the time I pantingly reached the top.

The castle and rock itself are now made unapproachable, the way securely barricaded. The structure was originally besieged and with time it has become highly unstable. I loved many of the castles for different reasons but Kinbane had the true sense of a fortification of the most austere type. This was only the first of our stops on Monday, and the first of a few hikes.

Published work for November

2007-11-12T15:25:00.000-08:00

Besides winning the Jerry Jazz Musician contest, my poem "Graven Image" has come out in the Albertan magazine, The Prairie Journal. And I have just received word that the antholgy Naughty or Nice is out through Cleis Press, with another one of my stories.

More Irish pictures tomorrow--Carrick a Rede and Kinbane Castle.

Short Fiction Contest Winner

2007-11-05T13:52:00.000-08:00

My piece "Cipher" which won the November short fiction contest at Jerry Jazz Musician (a site for all things jazz though the stories are not necessarily so) is now up to view. Just click on the following site and then used the left hand box. Search for short fiction and my story will come up. You scroll past the bio to get to the story.

http://jerryjazzmusician.com

Belfast to Ballycastle

2007-11-05T12:29:00.000-08:00

Ireland 2007--Belfast to Ballycastle

Here we are still on Sunday Sept. 30, going from the Newgrange area to Belfast. We gassed up before Northern Ireland (as opposed to the republic) as they use pounds and that's even more expensive (at least $2 CDN to the pound). It was the first time gassing up and we couldn't get the gas flap open on the VW Polo or whatever that piece of crap was. No levers, no buttons and the gas jockey was stymied too. Finally he asked one of the other guys and it turns out you just give it a good push and it pops open. Duh.

The only difference crossing the border, which was indiscernible was that the speed limits changed from kilometers to miles, much like driving from Canada to the US. However, the speedometer did not show miles, not that it mattered. If it said 60 people went 120, no matter whether km/h. I just flowed with the flow.

There are fairly major highways between Dublin and Belfast so it was smooth sailing and little getting lost though my sister would laugh her head off every time we saw a sign that said Heavy Plant Crossing. This usuallly wasn't on the main highways but we later found out it meant lumber trucks crossing, so in a sense, heavy plants. Our three maps of Ireland were deficient in different ways. The one from CAA only showed major routes and everything is a minor route in Ireland. The best map had roads going where they didn't, roads missing, and sites not exactly where they really were. You cannot have too detailed of a map for Ireland.

So, we drove into Belfast with no city map, a scary prospect after the maze of Dublin. But we found downtown (reminded me of Edmonton with the type of streets and construction going on), drove in circles for a bit and then parked, by sheer luck, across from the tourist information center (a large "i") so we did some internet posting, then got a map and yes, you guessed it, it was not accurate for Belfast. The woman drew lines to the Crown Liquor Saloon, the only place we were going to see as we were now shying of hanging around in the big cities. But of course she said go this way on a street that turned out to be a one way the other way. And you know what one ways are like when you're lost. You're always going the wrong direction. And we drove around and around and around and couldn't find this world famous Victorian saloon.

Finally I stopped by a taxi and told my sister to ask him. He was so nice that he actually just led us there and then pointed. And still we drove back and forth, because the saloon was under renovations and we couldn't see it for the scaffolding. Arrrghh! But we found it and it was truly beautiful, with warm wood booths and pillars. The pillars had little carved lions and griffins holding shields and in all there were only about six booths with lovely wooden doors and stained glass. Each booth had a metal plate that said Matches. We were talking to this man and woman and he said that at the turn of the century that was where people struck their matches when smoking. Ireland (both republic and north) are smoke free environments inside.

He also regaled us with politics and told us the only reason Dublin was considered dirty was because the tourists litter, not the locals. I kept my mouth shut but later saw what the Irish college crowd is like in Kilkenny. Belfast itself was very modern in the downtown core. We got lost (of course) getting out and the area we were in was a little rougher, but no sign at all of all the chaos of recent years gone by.

We then drove through to Ballycastle. Bally means "bay," so we passed many a place name Bally this and Bally that. It is a resort town and we did the usual, park and go into a pub for a drink. This was very much a sports bar and rugby is on every screen (or is it soccer--I mix them up. There a man at the bar could have been my friend Terri Fleming's brother; similar hair & skin colour, and looks. The Flemings (once Flemish of course) ended up in Ireland by way of many routes and the Scots.

On the outskirts of the town, right beside a golf course are the ruins of Bonamargy Friary. Built around the early 1500s it houses many graves of the MacDonnells, the past cheiftains of Ulster and Antrim and is still in the same family to this day. The most famous was Sorley Boy (an anglicization) and his brothers who ruled and repelled the English. The MacDonnells married the MacQuillans to quell the past Lords of the Route. Turns out the one headstone I took a picture of is rumoured to be the Black Nun of Bonamargy's resting place, Julie MacQuillan who was said to make 7 prophesies.

From the pictures you can tell it was dusk and we weren't having any luck with finding the B&B the pub recommended. We went back and tried to call three places but duh, you dial first, then stick the money in and if you're not fast enough, it cuts you off. And then you have to keep adding coins to keep talking. We goofed so bad the pub owner helped us, and one B&B just called back because we got cut off. Eventually in full darkness we found Clare house, after having to knock on someone's door and scare them in the dark. We unpacked and went back to town for dinner. Some pubs have restaurants upstairs and I don't know the name of the place we ate at but it was very modern in design and high end. It was a Sunday so there weren't a lot of places open. A bit pricey but very good.

Monasterboice, Ireland

2007-11-05T11:13:00.000-08:00

Ireland 2007--Monasterboice

Just click on the pictures to go to the album and each picture has more information in the caption.

Monasterboice is now just a cemetery but it has a long history. Founded first in the 4th century by St Buite who died in 521, it has seen many incarnations. It laso had significance to Mellifont Abbey. The tower and the High Crosses date from the tenth century though the tower might be even older. The original abbey is long gone but there are remains of two 14th century abbeys. Over a thousand years of use here and there is still significant detail left. I can only imagine how majestic these crosses were in their virgin state. I did not know before that the reason there is the round circle on the crosses is that the versions made of gold and jewels would start to bend under the weight of the design and the circle was a support structure to hold up the arms of the cross.

The tower, it is believed, was used for protection when the Vikings came by. It is still over 100 feet high and no longer complete. As well, over time, dirt has built up around the base and the once elevated doorway is now about 6-8 feet above ground. Of course this would have been used for storage and for a lookout as well.

Monasterboice was our last stop around the Newgrange area. It wasn't far from the towns of Drogheda, Tara or Slaine.(Pronounced Droda but you'd hear different pronunciations depending on whether the person was saying the Gaelic or the English version.)

We never did get any pictures of Slaine (two weddings booked in the castle and there after dark for dinner the second night), and though we drove through Kells the night before it was too late for the tourist center. As it was now Sunday we would have had to hang around till 2 pm to get in and as it turns out, there are two Kells in Ireland. The other is in the southwest and neither house the Book of Kells, which I regret not seeing.

By this time we were getting a better sense of driving about and learning to just stop and ask directions, especially when we'd be at a corner that had signs pointing east and south at the same time. Signs for touristy things (landmarks, historic sites, beaches) were in brown and helped a lot in finding places. Towns were in white (w/black lettering) or green (w/white lettering). It seems the secondary routes were the white signs. The roundabouts, on the other hand, never really did get easy.

Next, Belfast to Ballycastle.

St Peter & Paul's Cathedral, and Old Mellifont Abbey

2007-10-31T23:09:00.000-07:00

Ireland 2007--St. Peter & Paul's Cathedral, Trim and Mellifont Abbey

(click on the pictures for the albums)
I find beauty in stone and architecture, in details and the juxtaposition against sky and flora. St Peter and Paul's Cathedral was in the town of Trim and not far from the castle. Trim was a very important center at one time. We happened upon the cathedral and just stopped. I loved the sense of age, the details still visible, and that the cemetery was still in use.

The days are blurring together but we arrived in the Newgrange/County Meath area on the Friday evening, then spent Saturday and part of Sunday boppign about before we went north. I can't remember if we did Trim on Sunday or if it was one of the last things on Saturday. The time of day and that the castle was nearly closed when we hit it makes me think that the cathedral was the last place on Saturday.

We then wandered back to Slaine (that we never did get pictures of nor see the castle because it was booked for weddings). We ate at "the Old Post Office" but had drinks at the pub across the street first until they had space for us. There was a guy playing music but it was 80s tunes. Alas, N.A. rock made its mark everywhere, when we wanted Irish traditional.

So on Sunday, after saying so long to Irene of the Roughgrange B&B right near Newgrange (she was lovely and very friendly) we moved on to Old Mellifont Abbey, a cistercian monastery first founded in 1142b by ST. Malachy. Of course, it was constructed and expanded over centuries and there were even ruins of one of the old houses on the hill. The rain spittered and spattered but never did more than that.

The detail in the columns were amazing and the sense of age was powerful. I got in trouble at the visitor center for saying we have such little history in Canada. I ameneded it to say architectural and civic history, because we do have history. But the artifacts of the first Nations were mostly of wood and leather and just as all the places no longer have their rooves in Ireland, we have very little (especially in western Canada) that goes back more than two centuries at most.

The sense of people living, adapting, changing through all those years is stunning. Nature is amazing and what humans have done, both good and bad, awe inspiring too.

Winning a Contest

2007-10-29T18:45:00.000-07:00

Today I received two emails to do with stories I'd sent out. One was from Virginia Quarterly Review saying that although my story had obvious merit it didn't suit their needs. The other was from editor Joe Maita of Jerry Jazz Musician, a funky site of all things jazz and some things not.

“I am writing to let you know that ‘Cipher’ has been chosen to be the winner of the Jerry Jazz Musician Short Fiction Contest. Congratulations! With this award comes a prize of $100.”

http://www.jerryjazzmusician.com/mainHTML.cfm?page=fiction.html

It will be published on the site on Nov. 5th and beat out over 100 entrants. Wins and even nominations have been far and few between so it's very nice to feel like your top a heap, no matter how small. I've been selling erotica and poems this year, and this story is literary. So even though I'm not selling the speculative works, I'm still having my best year. It's a small bubble but I'm riding it for all it's worth.

Hill of Tara and Trim Castle

2007-10-22T16:11:00.000-07:00

This is all still part of our very busy Saturday. After we left Newgrange we trotted up to the Hill of Tara. At one point, at a four-way intersection there were two signs at right angles, both saying Tara. Ah those funny Irish. Turns out one was for the town and one for the Hill. Hard to tell though I think we found the "brown" heritage/tourist sign at one point. Not that it point the right way either.

After stopping at a gas station (let me guess, you're lost and looking for the Hill of Tara--only about 100 people have come by) we found our way. The Hill of Tara is...well, a hill, a great big, luscious green hill, with a mound or two, with runnels around it. It's a hill (Cormac's House), a hill fort, a passage tomb (mound of the hostages) and numerous other things. I don't think we saw all of it as it was a murky wet day and wet grass makes things soggy. The Stone of Destiny shown in some of the pictures was supposedly moved in 1798 to commemorate the death of 400 Irishmen who fought the British. It's been the seat of the High Kings of Ireland from the 6-12th centuries and the stone was said to cry out when the true king touched it. (I wonder how they worked that miracle).

There is a little cemetery and church dating back only a couple of hundred years I believe. Or at least the stones we could see. But the age of the Hill of Tara goes back to neolithic times with other parts being of Roman and medieval times. Its significance is still great in Ireland.

We went on to Trim castle which was founded by Hugh de Lacy in the 12th century.Its more recent claim to fame is that it was used in filming Braveheart. But the ruins are quite fabulous. We hit it at the end of the day and didn't get the tour of the inside of the castle. I believe it's only a ruin though, no furniture. The tour would have consisted of talking about its different defenses and construction techniques as the tower has twenty sides.

There was a lovely little wedding going one with the men in coats and tails. Yeah, if I ever got married a castle would definitely be a great setting. We didn't really stick around in Trim, the town, but drove through to an abbey, shown in the next set.

Ireland 2007--Hill of Tara & Trim Castle

Newgrange and Knowth

2007-10-16T15:40:00.000-07:00

Ireland 2007--Newgrange & Knowth

We left Dublin on the 28th of Sept. However, trying to navigate out of a city that's centuries old with winding streets and missing signs was quite a challenge. The 15-minute drive from the car rental place to our guesthouse took an hour and a half.

The guesthouse gave us directions north on the N1 when in fact the map showed that we really wanted N2 to get to Newgrange. Part of the problem is that here you have a map that fills your lap. It's of all of Ireland. A map even of BC would mean hours of driving so our sense of size and distance were skewed.

On top of that, let's say that Dublin tourish has good maps. They list some of the more known sites. They list major roads and smaller subroutes or connector roads. However, the sites are sometimes before a town when they're shown as being in the town, or north of a place when shown to be west of a place. Some of those connector roads don't connect to anything but a playground while there are new routes not listed anywhere on the map. We had three maps and none were accurate or super helpful.

We took N1 with my sister driving and I kept trying to navigate us back to N2. What a mistake. We did end up in a subdevelopment, a schoolyard, on the M1 and back to still being on the N1 (which can disappear become the M1 and then R125 or something and then back to being the N1. All this plus navigating the many roundabouts any time there is a road leading in a different direction. We were told to turn at a cemetery by a local at one point and either she'd never been up that road in years or they moved the cemetery, bodies and all.

So, eventually with half the day gone after starting at 11 am to get the car, we made it to the Huntsman Inn somewhere around four. We stopped in because it looked cute except for the scary horse thing outside. Thatched roof and a few hundred years old, it seems it was competing as the oldest pub/tavern/restaurant. We saw several of these signs and had while in Dublin had a drink at the Stags Head and the Braven Head pubs, both the oldest for something. Though nice staff I had truly awful onion rings with soft doughy outer layer and soft, too fleshy wings. Blech.

Revitalized and coming to realize that though it's a short distance through Ireland, it's not a fast ride, we continued on. We even found Newgrange all by ourselves...but about a half hour too late to get into that day. So we drove along the road to Slain (Slane) and asked there about B&Bs. We stayed at the lovely little Roughgrange home of Irene and her husband, mere minutes from Newgrange, itself a 17th century grange (form of ranch house). We trotted off to Donore for dinner in a pub and had fairly acceptable food with a few massive potatoes.

The next morning we decided to stay a second night as we had plenty in that area to see and drove off to Newgrange. Only done by tour (not enough time as far as I was concerned) we went first to Knowth (nowth for pronunciation). This was the first of many experiences with the stones of Ireland. Knowth and Newgrange are megalithic (or neolithic depending on the info) passage tombs that date back 5-6000 years. These were Stone to Bronze age cultures. Knowth's chamber was bigger and there were several mounds of varying sizes.

There have been upgrades to the mounds as over the centuries they were farmed or even had small villages starting up on the top of the mounds. Excavation was needed to bring back the kerbstones which are made of a stone called greywacke (greywacky). I believe only one was missing. In most of the passage tombs there is an alignment to one of the solstices or an equinox. As well cremated human remains were found and in some the bodies of several people. Archaeologists know these were used for ceremonial or ritual purposes in the earliest days. Knowth and Newgrange are the oldest manmade structures in the world.

The sense of age and history is immense. I could almost see the people moving amongst these revered mounds of long ago, imagine the importance of sun and rain and the turning wheel of the seasons. This was the beginning of a growing sense of stone in Ireland, as if I was being etched, like the whorls and swirls that were set in these kerbstones of long ago to endure weather and touch, and the changing of culture and times.

Dublin and Ireland

2007-10-14T19:32:00.000-07:00

Now that I've been back for a few days, I'm starting to sort through my pictures. Dublin was the first real landing spot in Ireland. So of course there are many shots of the streets and the housing, which differs from Vancouver. Architectural history, barring the earlier dwelling of the coastal peoples and not many of those remain due to the deterioration of wood and leather, in most of Canada goes back about three hundred years. Yes, there are a few exceptions like bits of a Viking settlement in Newfoundland or the 16th century Basque whaling village, but all in all, our civic history is relatively young. So Dublin like many European cities has history steeped in history that can be seen in the shape of the streets and the buildings.

The link listed here connects to my photos of Dublin, with the exception of the two fox pictures from my friends' back yard in Glasgow (where we first landed). Foxes are the local vermin in Glasgow but protected there now. Some of the pictures I've included are fuzzy. I was still learning the digital camera and in some cases the lighting was very low but have them here out of interest.

Dublin's one day included a trip to Christchurch Cathedral. Parts of it date back a thousand years. Some of the tile work is still beautiful and holds up well after thousands of feet and hundreds of years. Interestingly there was a glass encased, mummified rat and cat, found in an organ that was restored. Who was chasing whom, we may never know. We also went to the famous Temple Bar area, which is trendy but has some interesting pubs and restaurants. We ate at Fitzers which was very good and not that cheap. A drink of rum and coke and a cider cost about 15 Euros in Dublin. It's 1.5 dollars CDN to the Euro. Dublin is suppsed to be the most expensive city in Europe right now.

We also went to Dublin Castle, which like many structures has many centuries of history and more modern parts built on the remains of the older places. Still used today by Ireland's president (who serves a seven-year term) the rooms are of 17th-18th century designs. Under the buildings are excavated ruins of the original walls and towers. We were told that they used to take the heads of the executed and stick them on pikes about the castle. Eventually the heads would rot and plop into the moat. How do they know this? Well, they found four hundred severed heads in the moat. Which spawned this drinking song that you can sing to "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall."

Ninety-nine severed heads in the moat, ninety-nine severed heads.
You take one out, you toss it about, ninety-eight severed heads in the moat. At which point, you could take a sip of said beverage and pass it down the line. More than ninety-nine heads though and it gets quite ungainly to sing. My sister and I had the opportunity to sing through all the heads to zero while stuck in rush-hour traffic in Cork. It kept us amused and even if our windows were open a bit, the people stuck beside us studiously ignored us.

Last was wandering around the River Liffey. This bisects south and north of the city. There are various car and foot bridges over the river and the areas between are called quays, such as Merchants quay, which gives you an idea of what it must once have been like before the advent of cars.

Ireland2007-Dublin

Things Irish

2007-10-09T00:55:00.000-07:00

Blarney--we heard many a tall tale in Ireland and the gift of the gab runs through many it seems. Now that we're nearly on the homefront we've checked the internet and if Liam's fish whacking is a record it's only in Killybegs or Donegal as there is no listing. But somehow we're not surprised by this in the least.

Almost all the toilet bowls in Ireland are quite roundish, kinda cute...as toilet bowls go. The handles are on the right instead of the left in Canadian/US toilets. Why one side or the other, who knows?

Latches on almost every bathroom door are slide latches. It seems to be the latch style of choice.

You'll be hard pressed to find a face cloth at any B&B or guesthouse. I hate water in my face so I always use one. Luckily I brought my own.

About 80% of the places we stayed didn't have hairdryers.

Everything from toothbrushes (equiv. of $8-13) or hair mousse (equiv. of $10) is really expensive.

I've been called love or lass but no other form, besides "girls". So my friends who think chicken (never heard this one even the first time around Eng. and Scotland many years ago) must be remembering a local idiom from somewhere.

I was told that no matter where you are pretty much there would be the friendly Irish and you wouldn't be sitting alone for long or they would start buying you drinks. This friendliness was apparent in the towns but by no means universal. The resort areas and modern cities were as friendly...or as unfriendly as every big, trendy place. Kilkenny would have been the same except for the lads from the North.

Food was generally of high quality.

Every town or village goes back centuries so the streets are narrow and winding, the buildings tall and joined together as row houses. As you get farther out from the town center you encounter newer row houses, or individual dwellings. These seem to be quite large and have at least four bedrooms. That's why there are so many B&B's in Ireland.

Traffic circles and few lights. They're insane and you'll get honked at for doing it wrong but then find in the next town that it's different. Speed limits are for decoration. If you see a sign for 60 km, people will easily be going 120. The small roads are usually 60-80 km and the highways 100-120 km.

We only saw one farmer with a horse and buggy but saw some country fellows in the typical cap, jacket, baggy pants with shiny bottom, and wellies.

Ireland is green and after a few millennia of deforestation, there are border trees and groves, a few protected forests. It was the stunning thing to see flying over. However, we did see areas of reforestation. When flying over I couldn't figure out why the trees looked as if they were combed. It was because they had been planted at some point.

Ireland roads are almost all bordered by hedgerows or stone fences. There may also be trees that have been growing there for a long while that form tunnels as the branches reach above and leave space enough for car and lorries to go through. It definitely gave a different feel to the countryside.

Irish Food

2007-10-08T09:16:00.000-07:00

We're in Glasgow but haven't really done anything but fly here today. We were wiped so napped on the couch, which means we'll have tomorrow to explore a little bit.

In Ireland, the Irish really do love their potatoes. It will be on the menu for everything; either fries or potatoes. I watched people in a pretty fancy Italian restaurant eat past and fries. Fork a fry and then scoop your pasta and sauce together. Or the ladies that ordered pasta and pizza and a bowl of potatoes on the side.

One night I ordered chicken curry with rice. It came with a large (about two full serving's worth in Vancouver) serving of fries that I was too full to touch. And the portions are more than substantial. Last night I think we ended up in the equivalent of a diner and I had smoked cod and cabbage (with potatoes of course). I ate the cod but couldn't finish the rest.

So even though the prices are high, there is a lot of food and I doubt anyone would be hungry at the end. There's never been room for desert, except one night when I did an early bird menu, which seems to be quite popular in restaurants. You can get two or three courses for prices ranging from 20 to 30 Euros.

So food left an impression on me. We're nearly done. It will be good to get back but sad to leave. I'm sure I'll write a bit more about the Emerald Isle once I'm home.

Dublin or Bust!

2007-10-07T04:55:00.000-07:00

We're in Kilkenny, which turns out to be a hopping college town, or at least where all the young people gather to party. Yeegods, we almost didn't get a B&B but lucked out on try 3 with a very nice place and very nice people.

There's been so much and not enough time to even find internet cafes which some of the small towns don't have. We got into the habit of sometimes eating the breakfast--a full breakfast will come with two cooked tomatoes, sausages, ham (bacon but it's like back bacon), toast, eggs, cereal and fruit, maybe potatoes and black and white pudding. Who could eat all that. We were down to ham and toast and tomatoe and skipping it some days as it's too much and eggs over more than 2 days don't sit well with me.

We would skip lunch as we were always running about trying to fit in the most by the end of the day. Some castles and sites close at the beginning of Oct. Boo! Most disappointing site--Ormonde Castle, a mostly Victorian manor house, closed off completely. Not exciting by architectural standards and why it was in the guide book, I don't know. Nicest castles--Bunratty, and errr...another I can't remember right now.

We've been eating dinners that are around 15-20€ and a pint of cider and a rum and coke have cost lowest at 7€ for both in Dungarvan, to 15€ in Dublin. Not cheap but the food portions have been substantial and quality mostly very good. My celiac sister hasn't had any problem getting food adapted and it turns out Ireland is only second to Italy in number of celiacs.

We stopped at Blarney castle, which is mostly a shell but I didn't kiss the stone. Rather, while snooping down some dark, tunnelly passage, I saw light and stairs to my left, and went to cautiously look down. I ran my nose right into a ridge of stone and nearly broke it. It's still bruised but feels okay. Reminds me of Lorna's year of the broken nose.

I have many many photos and I'm always into architectural details and the small stuff. I've taken pictures of some very old tiles froms some cathedrals and castles as well as some gothic and earlier carvings. Much in stonework, not as much in wood, of course.

We've come to want to avoid the bigger cities like Limerick (though we went to the castle there) and Cork where we spent an hour going a few blocks. We've just done Kilkenny castle, restored by the Irish gov't and once owned by the very rich Butlers for over 500 years. No pictures inside were allowed and most of it is done now in 18th century style as it went through several changes over the centuries.

I also realize that I've been trying to live up to being Irish and I've drank cider every day since I've been here. This could be a personal record. Last night we met some gents from the North who had been down for the races. One was a Belfast cop and we ended up drinking more than we would have. Then got lost in the fog going back to our B&B.

We're about to head up to Dublin and flight out godawful early tomorrow to Glasgow. Then it's, sob** home on Wednesday. We've lucked into great weather except for one rainy day in Carrowmore and when driving out of Dublin. That's made it much nicer. Ireland is truly beautiful and kinda laid back about driving even if the speed limit is 100km on winding country roads built for carriages originaly. I've come to love the inherent use of and living with stone of the Irish. Stone plots in cemeteries, stone castles and homes, the wonderful stone walls everywhere and the megatlith tombs and dolmens. Oddly enough it's the stones I will miss most.

And now it's time to drive off to Dublin.

Donegal & Slieve League

2007-10-02T05:16:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was big hike day. We went to Kinbane Castle, a ruin, down many steps to a crag and a rock in the ocean. It was fine gong down but definitely a sweaty hike up the steep steps. My sister couldn't make it.

Then we drove (driving is fine now...mostly, except those traffic circles, which are literally every five blocks when you drive through a city. Very confusing when there are five names on each sign and you're trying to find one.) to the Carrick a Rede rope bridge. Randi is afraid of heights so I went on and over the bridge (short) to the hummocky island. It's like it's covered with peat and then grasses and little field flowers here and there. A beautiful view of the North Sea in its blues and turquoises with the white cliffs, the black rocks and the little green sharp cliffed islands called Carric Island (where the rope bridge leads to) and Sheep Island. That was another easier hike but with some steep steps to climb back up.

We then went to the Giants Causeway where there were hundreds of people. This is where the land coughed up great sestagonal? (six sided) columns of stone everywhere to the water. These columns form natural seats and steps and are very cool. Managed to get some good pics but the haze stopped me from getting good ones of the chimneys farther out and I was a bit tired to walk that far.

We went on to Bushmills. Why we did this tour I'm not sure. It wasn't on our itinerary (made up daily) and it wasn't very exciting or interesting. No old architecture, a bit on the making of (which was kinda intersting). Bushmills is named for the old Bush river from which they pump the water and the milling of the barley. But because we did this we missed getting into Dunluce castle. October hours means many things close at 5 instead of 6. It would have been the most impressive castle with a bridge, large environs and a cave beneath the castle. All these castles today were coastal castles. All we could do was take pics from the gates.

We then drove and drove through many a roundabout, through Portrush and Portstewart, Strabane, various little towns to Donegal. We stopped in a pub, the Reel Inn, had a drink and got some idea for B&Bs. This was a nice change. A small town center and our B&B just over the bridge, less than five minutes from the town. The pub is just one side of the little bridge. We ate in some restaurant which was okay. I had chicken curry (13.50€)which was only chicken, no veggies. Lots of chicken and rice though and then I was given a huge bowl of fries, which I didn't even touch. The Irish do love their taters.

We went back to the Reel Inn which was supposed to have live music. We barely set foot in the door when we were mobbed by drunk Irish men. There was a very drunk, bleary eyed, mostly incoherent Liam and his friend who we called Harry Potter, of barely legal drinking age. Enda was a nice guy who looked like he used to play rugby (on the TVs everywhere here) who had his own pub but goes for drinks with the boys on Mondays because one of them is banned from his pub. The banned one, the older Liam (40-ish)with a front tooth missing, regaled us with many a story of his fishing forays, true or not. Liam McGurdy holds the world record for fish whacking and gutting. Supposedly this is true though some of the other tales were not. There was a equally drunk, red-haired Eric. They were all drunk when we arrived and just stayed the same.

Randi and I had been told that the men buy your drinks everywhere. We hadn't found this yet or even that people talked to you that much. But it was true here. They all wanted to shake or hold our hands but we never bought a drink all night.Each guy would try to up the other in blarney.

There was also a Pete or Finnbar but it was hard to tell as he was not always on the up and up either, who kept telling me I was a fine woman and if I was there alone would I fancy him. I didn't want to say outright no, but I did say no and he asked why. I said because I like to get to know people there. A younger Pete came in and all the guys in the bar started calling old Pete Daddy. Younger Pete, Pete Cannon was kind of like a leprechaun, not that tall, pretty eyes, lots of character in his face and brown hair with blond and light red streaks. Turns out he's a musician and he also contributed to the blarney in his way. But overall the lads were friendly and harmless, if half of them completely inebriated. I got to try Adam's cider which came in a larger 1.5 pint bottle.

Now we're off to Slieve League and the coast. More as the internet allows.

We're in Belfast

2007-09-30T06:00:00.000-07:00

Well, we spent till Friday in Dublin and went to pick up the car on Friday morning. Then with at least six people asked for directions we seemed to cross the Liffey and cross back so we were on the south side when we should have been on the north side. We did Baggot St. and lots of Dublin that we never meant to do. Plus we went far east before ending up going south and north again. A 15 minute drive took about an hour and a half.

The Charleville was very good to us and didn't charge us for being late. We also had to get her to show us how the reverse worked in the car, which even she couldn't find so we had to call the rental company. Signs in Ireland and in Dublin can be nonexistent, or on buildings, and covered by trees. Not to mention no streets are parallel. This city wasn't planned, it grew. Many intersections have five or six streets off of them too.

Randi drove and I navigated and it was a big big mess. Finally we got directions out of Dublin to go north but they gave us the N1 when we needed the N2. We tried to get over but they have all of these semie routes (R123, R153, etc.) and somehow not on one of the three maps we had was there any R132. The ones that showed on the map petered out into townships and at one point we asked a woman at a petrol stn. where to go and she said turn left at the garda stn. (police) and right at the cemetery. Maybe they moved it because all we saw was a subdivision with children playing so maybe they were zombies. Eventually, four hours later we made it to Newgrange, 45 minutes too late.

We drove into Slane, a cute little town with a castle and asked if there were any B&Bs and it turns out there was a wedding in town so that there were no openings. But we got a place just 2 km from Newgrange and Roughgrange farm with a lovely woman, Irene, and her husband. Clean, cheapish, and friendly. We went into Donore that night for dinner at Daly's a pub and a restaurant.

Next day, Saturday, we went to Newgrange and Knowth (neolithich passage graves), then on to the Hill of Tara (soggy soggy weather), then on to Trim Castle and St. Peter and Paul's Cathedral in Trim. We drove into Kells but were too late and would have had to wait till 2 pm today. So we drove back to Slane and had a drink at the Village Inn Bar (disappointment is that there is only one type of cider so far in Ireland--Bulmers) then across to the Old Post Office Restaurant and B&B, one of only 2 places in Slane that serves food. It was pretty good but food is not cheap here. (Meals can be about 20€ average though you can get pub meals for cheaper.) We also had a good, not cheap meal in Dublin at Fitzers; very yummy and good for celiacs which my sister is.

I should say that I took over driving on Saturday and we're both much happier. My sister tended to scream and freeze if she saw a car coming at her. The Garda swerved into our lane to get around traffic and the streets are very narrow and windy and the speed limits relatively fast. Except for getting down that center line thing and not going too far left, I'm doing okay. The care we have is crap and very hard to shift into the correct 1st or 2nd gear. And we couldn't find a way to open the gas tank today, nor the gas jockey. Turns out you just push the lid.

This morning we did Monasterboice and Mellifont Abbey before heading north.

Time's nearly out but we're hoping to see the Crown saloon here and go off towards Giants Causeway tonight. Whoo and we made it into Belfast without a map of the city.

Things to Know About Travelling

2007-09-27T02:44:00.000-07:00

Well we made it. Just slept like the dead in Dublin and we're off to a slow start.

Backing up, it was a bit of a whirlwind beginning. My friend Lorna picked me up around 7 and my flight was leaving at 10:10 pm. Plenty of time, right? Well originally this flight had been leaving at that time and going straight to Glasgow, but along the way Air Transat changed it to Vancouver, via Calgary onto Glasgow. I looked at all the changes when my sister first sent them and thought the only change was Calgary, after initialing thinking they had shortened our flight by a day.

So here we are at the airport and there is hardly anyone there. I naively said, geez they say get here three hours early and there's no lineup. We walk up to the counter and I tell them the flight. They say no it's gone already. But then these guys (more airport security than the ticket people) say they don't work that counter; go over to the Air Transat counter. We do and the woman says it's too late, it's gone, it leaves at 8:00!

At this point my stupidity is dawning on me. I misread numerous times 20:10 at 10:10. I know the 24 hour clock but my brain had been stuck on the previous time. This woman calls upstairs as I'm breaking into a sweat (literally) and finds that they can get me on the plane but not my suitcase because the plane is packed. I'm going, what can I do and she says nothing because it's a charter flight and only goes out once a week with not agreement with the other airlines.

But somehow, bless their hearts, a guy comes down, checks my baggage, almost forgetst to give me the boarding pass and then I have to take my luggage to the xray machine. The guy there jokes that I have to wait a half hour. Then I speed through security, luckily without any additional searches and jump on the golf cart they have waiting, lacing up my boots as we go, thanking them profusely. I got on the plane but if we had been 5 minutes later I would have been hooped and my sister would have thought I was dead when she got on in Calgary. I was lucky and the plane was not late in taking off.

So then my sister gets on in Calgary and she's put on 50 pounds in 6 months from thyroid issues. Let's just say the small Air Transat seats are more crowded now. We got into Glasgow and went through the cattle gates for the passports with the customs guy joking that he wasn't happy because we were going on to Dublin.

A note to people travelling to Ireland: you can't very easily get a direct flight from the West Coast so it's Gatwick or Glasgow for joining up a new flight. Glasgow really has two airports, which we didn't know at first. Glasgow International only has Aer Lingus that flies to Dublin (about $150 CDN) and Glasgow Prestwick (about an hour away by bus and train) has Ryanair (only) and is cheaper. But if people tell you (even those that supposedly live there or are Irish and go all the time) that you can just book when you arrive from all of these different airlines, they're mistaken. There are only those two and though we could have made it to Prestwick in time for the late night flight, there were no seats left.

So we had to take Aer Lingus, but first we met up my friend Erin who is doing her PhD in Viking archaeology in Glasgow. She fed us and let us freshen up (and we saw these lovely foxes, the local vermin, in their back yard). Then we caught a taxi back to the airport and caught our flight, an hour late because the plane malfunctioned and they had to get a different one. So we left at 11:20 pm instead of 10:15. We finally got to our lodge and into bed at 2 am.

Scary things: a phone call requires constant money put into the machine. A call of a few minutes cost about 2.5£. Yikes. About 5 bucks. Glasgow is pounds. Ireland is Euros until you get to the Northern parts. And now, it's off to see what we can of Dublin after our late start.

Not Seeing Clearly

2007-09-24T11:46:00.000-07:00

One of the other things needed for Ireland was money, of course. Euros and Great British Pounds as Northern Ireland and Glasgow are on pounds and the rest of Ireland on Euros.I'd been reading and was told that it's getting very hard to cash traveller's cheques. I presumed because of the amount of forgeries and counterfeiting.

So, I called my bank's central phone number and told them which branch I'd be going to and about how many Euros I would need, as well as when I'd be coming in. They said no problem, there will be enough. I dropped in on Friday, though I had been thinking of doing it this Tuesday afternoon. I'm very glad I didn't wait.

I arrived to find they had nowhere near enough Euros. I had a wedding and work on the car on Saturday. They were closed Sunday, and other branches were closed Wednesay as well as me working. They called around but no branches had enough. Eventually, after 45 minutes the bank scraped up every Euro they had. I ended up with a rather large wad of 5s, 10s, 20s, 50s, and one 100. It's bulky and it's a lot of money. But kudos to Vancity for coming through.

So that night I'm telling my friend Lorna about the Euro crisis and she says: There are banking machines all over Europe. You could have just withdrawn the money there. Arrgghh!

The last major travelling I did outside of the US was to Cuba where there weren't many if any banking machines and I just brought cash, bringing most of it home again. Before that was India in 1989 and even today I'd be dubious about parts of the country being up to date with banking machines. Sigh, you learn a few lessons and at least this wasn't a bad one to learn.

2007-09-24T00:36:00.000-07:00

Here is a sample of using my 50 mm manual lens with my digital SLR Nikon. The digital can't read the f-stops from the old lens but it doesn't matter as long as I fiddle. You can't meter the same and it takes some experimentation but I did get it to work, as well as getting my bigger flash to work with it.

I may not get the second lens in time for Ireland so using the manual will fill in what I need. I'm beginning to think it could be better. I'm happy that I'll have a range of sizes now.

Time Crunch

2007-09-21T09:52:00.000-07:00

I'll be leaving for Ireland next week and hope to post some while on the trip but I have no idea how our time will be and how often I'll find an internet cafe. Ireland is not cheap by far, and Dublin is one of the most expensive cities in Europe. I'm going with my sister and we'll be spending a day or two at most in Dublin. Advice by Irish people I've met is that you don't need longer there.

So far, even before going, transportation has been a bit of a tangle. We booked through Air Transat because it was cheapest by far but having flown to Cuba before on that airline, they really like to cram you in. I think I'll be going for strolls while on the plane.

The flight goes to Glasgow and then you need to book one to Dublin. Well, no problem. Everyone says Ryanair is really cheap. There's Aer Lingus but it's a tad more expensive (like a lot!). We didn't rush in booking because we wanted to coordinate it with the car rentals and when our first flight would arrive. And before that we took two weeks to find suitable and cheapish accommodation in Dublin. Not that easy and you have to check various sites as the price can vary.

I have friends in Glasgow and Erin happened to ask if we were flying to Dublin from Glasgow International or Prestwick Glasgow airport. Errr? I'm so glad she asked as we fly into Glasgow (GLA) and Ryanair only flies out of Prestwick. Then we have to take a train and a bus or taxi from one to the other, and it takes about an hour. Our heads were starting to spin by this time.

We arrive into GLA at 2:30 pm but the only Aer Lingus flight leaves at 10:30 pm. But if we get to Prestwick, then there's a flight at 5 or at 10:30. Is it cheaper with all the hassle and train/bus fare, plus after customs would we make the 5 pm flight? Or should we bite the more expensive bullet? (Aer Lingus has a lower baggage weight so do we pack for that flight and extra pounds can become extra pounds British!) Erin suggests that we have dinner with them and then can catch our flight out.

Once we get through this nodule of confusion, I'm sure the rest of the trip will be fine. But what a logistics headache. I now wish that I'd gone with a travel agent but they can't book Aer Lingus or Ryanair flights. After this, we'll be more experienced on travel to Ireland.

The Coolest Thesaurus Ever

2007-09-17T00:51:00.000-07:00

Ireland looms close with some snags in coordinating transportation. I'm working three jobs at the moment with little time to post. I do hope that I can post a bit when I'm in Ireland.

But in the meantime, this is the greatest thesaurus. I'm going to order it once I'm back. It's like a mind map but with the word you pub in at the center. Then adjectives, verbs, nouns, whatever are spaced off of it. It's best just to go look because everyone who's seen it has gone, wow.

Visual and intuitive and easy to follow. It's a great tool: http://www.visualthesaurus.com/trialover.jsp

September 11th and the Holy Crusade

2007-09-10T23:29:00.000-07:00

It is now six years since the Western world was slam dunked and woke up to the reality of the horrors that other parts of the world have suffered for a long time. There have always been terrorist attacks and bombings but this was the first time North America truly faced it without the sugar coating.

I can say, to this day that I have never seen a picture or TV spots of the Twin Towers falling. I still don't need to. I don't need to satisfy any ghoulish craving and the horror of what happened is strong enough I don't need it welded in my mind more firmly than it is. I felt a terror that day that I had never felt before.

And what difference did it make? Yes, it woke me up some. But am I any more prepared than I was 6 years ago? Prepared to have my world changed, prepared for the worst, having contingency plans and supplies tucked away? No, I'm pretty much complacent like many of us have become. Except our governments.

And yes, it is a government's job to protect its people but when protection is masked under the removal of civil liberties and the mass paranoia, well what is the government's true agenda; keeping the rats distracted? And I talk more here of the US, but Canada, Britain, Australia all have their complicities. We now have strident and ridiculous measures at airports. First, we had to start taking our shoes off because someone tried a shoe bomb. Then we had to start getting rid of extra liquid, because someone tried a bomb made of various liquids. Someone will end up with a tooth bomb and we'll be dropping our fangs in trays at the airport security stations. And then someone could use a tampon, a button, an earring, a belt. Soon, we'll be going through naked and there will still be new attempts to make bombs.

Right now I could take a plastic knife, or a shoelace and make a weapon and I'm not trying to be an "evil terrorist". If someone truly wants to create carnage, there is always a way around the system. Methods of sensible security are one thing but ridiculous paranoia does not inspire me with confidence of my country's intelligence or protection.

And then of course, six years after the fact, we look at George Bush's holy crusade that he likes to title his war on terror. Perhaps it should be reworded to his "war to perpetuate terror "as it's a matter of who is terrorized now. That I heard Americans saying ole George was doing the right thing in attacking Iraq and saving them from terrorists makes me shake my head at the stupidity. How many of the 9/11 terrorists came from Iraq? How many Al Qaeda operatives are being trained in Pakistan today, not in Iraq? What nationality is Osama bin Laden?

Osama sits back and laughs his head off knowing that he was more effective than he could have dreamed in his attacks. Lets look at the numbers (still disputed). Those dead from the 9/11 attacks--approximately 3,000. US soldiers killed in Irag since the 2003 US-led invasion--27,000 plus. Iraqis killed since the 2003 US-led invasion--655,000. Good going, George. You're doing Osama's work for him. He's sitting around sipping his favourite terrorist drink while you're his lackey dog.

I'm not saying Iraq didn't have a despotic and cruel dictator in power but it would have been nice to see countries helping the Iraqi people for the right reason, not some idiotic holy crusade of right wing Christian fundamentalism against right wing Muslim agression. I'm not saying that Afghanistan didn't need help. It did for years as its people were subjugated, especially the women. But it was never important enough (can we say, no oil) until George's war on terror. (This phrase makes me gag these days.)

What have I learned since Sept. 11? That nothing has been done for the right reason, to save people from fear and subjugation. What has been done was to take the terror away from here and put it on others, to push an agenda for power and religious might, for popularity. And if anything George Bush, you are the antichrist and your own worst enemy.

It really makes me wonder if there is any honour or good in the world. And I still mourn all the lives lost in power mongering wars and religious crusades, the world over.

Submissions for August

2007-09-03T18:15:00.000-07:00

A friend was aghast or at least surprised that I would post my submissions here. That I should only post the postive stuff, the sales I've made. But I think it serves a better purpose to post it all and I see no reason to hide how many submissions I make or are aceppted or rejected. Maybe it will give someone faith to keep going. Some of the most popular books were rejected 100 times before being accepted by a publisher. So... you never know. And I often try to rewrite a story if I get back good (if sometimes painful) feedback. So the same title does not always mean the same story.

SUBMITTED IN August: 15 Spec fiction: 8 submissions
"Visions in Red” Strange Horizons
”Visions in Red” Abyss & Apex
“Fathomless World” IGMS
“The Collector” Noctem Aeternus
“Simple Pleasures” Red by Dawn anthology
“Bite Me” Heliotrope
“Lady of the Bleeding Heart” Sniplits
“Misdemeanor” Scarlet
“Touch the Magic” Clarkesworld
“Gingerbread People” Weird Tales
“Skin Deep” Neo-Opsis
Poems: 4 submissions
“Garuda’s Gamble, Robotics, Drowning Ones” Aeon
“Charmed” GUD
“Tales Never Told” Sybil’s Garage
“Pilot Flight,” “Millennium’s Edge,” “Time,” “Remembrance” Mythic Delirium

ACCEPTED:
REJECTED: 7 submissions (& 2 poems)
“Ice Queen” Speculative Realm
“Timebubbles” Withersin
“Slow Burn” Cincinnati Review
“Changes” IGMS
”Visions in Red” Abyss & Apex
“Highest Price” Glimmertrain
“Safe Sex” New Genre

“Charmed” Poem GUD
”Talesen’s Traps:” poems 1-4 From the Asylum

STORIES STILL OUT from January on: 15 & poems
Spec Fiction: 9 sumbissions
“Werewolf,” “Pumpkin’s Watch” Lycanthrope anthology
“Serpent’s Mouth” Pagan Fiction Award
“Cold Bones” Story Station
“Amuse-Bouche” Deathlings
“Lady Lazarus” Interzone
“In the High Tower” On Spec
“An Ill Wind” Talebones (resubmitted-not found)
“The Brown Woman” All Possible Worlds
“Rites of Passage” Dark Discoveries
Erotic fiction: 2 submission
“Pearls and Swine” Fishnet
“Unpacking Boxes” Super-Sexy Short Story
Fiction: 4 submissions
“No Place to Go” American Short Fiction
“Bird in the Hand” Pulpnet
“Sackcloth and Ashes” Fog City Review
“Elastic” The Sun
Poems: 5 submissions
Ø “Secrets of Trees”, “Garuda’s Folly”, “Negotiating the Power that Drives Me Round,” “Dark Side,” “A Match for Nostradamus” Strong Verse
Ø “Courtship,” “Whole World,” “What Goldilocks Learned” Going Down Swinging
Ø “Persephone Dreams,” “Finding Dionysus,” “The Traveler,” “Geomystica,” “Of the Corn” Tin House
Ø “Sweat Lodge,” “Between the Lines,” “Dust,” “Evidence,” “In the Garden” Agni
Ø Rewrite asked for on “Mermaid” Abyss & Apex

Little Words & Zed

2007-08-21T14:50:00.000-07:00

I've worked many years as a copy editor and have a fairly good memory for spelling. It's amazing really that we ever standardized the English language, if you take into account that there's British English, American English and the bastard child of both, Canadian English. AE and CE say "synchronize" instead of "synchronise", but BE and CE say "neighbour" instead of "neighbor" and "travelled" instead of "traveled." There are a few other odd words such as "jewellery" vs "jewelry." But mostly we can understand each other even if Canadians say "zed" and Americans, "zee." I'm an adamant proponent of continuing the "zed" pronunciation (being Canadian) and when some little tads corrected me with saying, "It's zee." I pretty much bit my lip and corrected them since they're Canadian. Alas the invasion continues.

So is it any wonder that there are so many misspelled words considering that Shakespear spelled his name so many different ways? Of course a lot of this had to to with relative illiteracy. If you didn't write regularly, even if you knew the rudiments, you weren't very likely to spell things correctly.

As an editor, sometimes words are so often misspelled the same way that I start to doubt my own senses and look up words that I know are spelled incorrectly. Here are a few words of the modern age that are mispelled frequently:

burgundy (not burgandy for colour or wine)
indefinitely (not indefinately, received three times last week) if it's not finite then it's indefinite like infinity .
no one (not no-one nor noone)
its (the most misused word ever: if it is blue then it's blue. If something belongs to it, then it is its.
twenty, thirty-something (twenty-two not twenty two)

I find it particularly bad when I read books that have many misspellings but it all depends on how good the publishers are at maintaining quality and if they care. Many small publishing houses do not even have copy editors and depend on (demand) the authors to proofread their work. Of course everyone should always do that and hand in relatively clean copies. Still when you're looking at a story over and over again you are bound to miss some of your own typos. A second set of eyes is always best.