Word by Word
September 2005
Wednesday, September
14, 2005
noon
My goodness, time does
fly by when lots it going on.
I’ve fallen right out
of the habit of working in here. Lots of excuses, but, yawn, who needs ‘em.
My children are
definitely on the move. The oldest is in
My middle daughter has
established herself in another city to go to university (I’m not sure whether
I’m allowed to divulge where, if you know me, you know), and that has
certainly caused a lot of excitement, in my heart anyway. I’m going to go
visit her in October, and try not to be a pest.
My youngest has bought
his ticket for two months in
It’s a lot of coming
and going, and though I can’t claim to have done much that’s tangible in the
last while, all this activity takes up plenty of psychological space. So in
self-defense, I’ve been regularly slogging up the Grouse Grind. All the
huffing and puffing and sweating takes my mind off all kinds of things. Or
helps me think. Maybe both.
I’ve been putting off
revising a story, probably to make sure that my eyes are fresh when I sit
down to it (how’s that for rationalization?) and planned to get it done this
week. Of course I meant to write here too, last week, or was it the week
before? Oh, hell, it’s just that I seem to have a mountain of paper drifting
around my bedroom/office, and in the dining room/other office, and I keep
trying to get a grip on it. So I’ve arranged for some motivation – I’ve got
my book club coming tomorrow evening, so I’ll have to organize myself for
that, and a dinner on the weekend too. I saw a news story that said I’d be
healthier if I socialized, so that’s the plan. It’s not really to keep me
away from my work.
Friday, September 16,
2005
1 pm
My home is quiet. My
son just left for the Island, to party away the weekend with friends who have
moved to
Last night was a
meeting of my book club; we met here. We’d read Ann-Marie MacDonald’s Where the Crow Flies. A big fat novel,
it was a good choice for a summer read. That’s if people had a summer holiday
I suppose. But we hadn’t met since June, so there was time to plow through
all seven hundred odd pages.
Mixed reviews as usual,
though I’d say it was about 60/40 between the loved it and hated it. Well
maybe hate’s a bit strong a word. (I’m in the minority group.) I found the
book frustrating. The story held me, but I didn’t believe the characters the
way that makes a story really work. I felt they were clichés, or stereotypes,
and not fleshed out enough in spite of the 700+ pages to move past that.
Several interesting stories going on, but maybe trying to fit too much in.
One of our members felt that it was like two different books tacked together.
But some of our members liked all the rambling. Like life. But I figure a
novel isn’t like life. It needs to put a shape to a story, so that we can
reflect on life. Profound thought, eh?
This happens in novels
sometimes, losing track of whose story, and I think it’s something to
remember when I get around to actually working on the one I’ve got started.
Figure out whose story it is, and then tell that one. You can always write
another book about any other stories that try to creep in. The interesting
thing about Where the Crow Flies,
for me anyway, is that the family across the street from the main characters
had the most interesting story. I wanted the book to be about them.
Monday, September 19,
2005
2 pm
I spent an entertaining
weekend; invited several friends for dinner on Saturday night, and those who
could, came. I was trying to fit six around my table, but we settled on four,
and had a very fine time. Lots of good conversation, and the food was good
too (if I do say so myself). I rather enjoyed the whole preparation; did my
shopping down at
Now I’m in the thick of
clearing a backlog of papers and chores that have been piling up in corners
of my bedroom/office. I can procrastinate with the best of them, but
eventually the piles start to topple over, and there’s nothing to do but
clear it all. I’ve allocated myself a certain amount of work today, which I’m
getting near the end of. I plan to head over to the mountain in an hour or
so, and slog to the top. It’s become my gym for the summer; I’ve stuck pretty
much to a schedule of three times a week for a while, and I can feel the
difference as I hoist myself up those stairs.
Tomorrow I’ve got to
seriously work on the magazine that comes around quarterly. My daughter has
done the last few issues, but as she’s gallivanting around Europe (
Thursday, September 22,
2005
3 pm
The last few days I’ve
been glued to my computer, putting together an issue of Planning West, the
magazine of the Planning Institute of BC. I had pretty much passed this job
off to my daughter, but she’s still wandering about Europe for a while yet (
I didn’t go hiking
yesterday. It’s some cosmic law at work, but as soon as you admit you’re
doing something regularly, the routine changes. I think it’s akin to what
parents find; as soon as you know what’s going on with your kids, they
change. Anyway, for some reason Monday’s hike left me with sore muscles. This
surprised me, because I haven’t felt a twinge for weeks. I still felt them
yesterday, so took the day off – had to get all this work done anyway, so
just as well. Feeling fine today though, so now that the draft is sent, I
will hit the stairs again tomorrow.
My wrists have been bugging
me again; I have carpal tunnel syndrome, which means my hands fall asleep at
the oddest times, and my finger and hand joints behave strangely too. My
thumb has been acting up again, quite painfully, so back I went to pin
cushion land (acupuncture). It’s a very peculiar thing, getting poked with
pins. I’m a very skeptical sort, but I think there’s actually some benefit to
this.
I did see a specialist
about my wrists, and we agreed that trying to manage this was the best idea;
surgery is for extreme cases, which I’m not, and I have no intention of
becoming one. I’ve been sleeping with my wrist braces again too. Or trying to
sleep, might be more accurate. Sigh. But they help as well. He suggested some
exercises too, which I’ve been forgetting to do. Exercises are so
non-dramatic.
But if I’m going to go
on clutching pens and computer mice, then it’s probably going to keep
happening. Interestingly though, it is both wrists. I’m not quite sure what
gives; I have to think what else I’m doing repetitively. Oh, hey I know,
typing.
I’m still working my
way through Passage to
There’s always a book
to answer whatever ails. Maybe I should get one about carpal tunnel.
Tuesday, September 27,
2005
3 pm
Sunday was Word on the
Street, a festival of reading really, set up around the downtown library. I went
down in the afternoon, and wandered about looking at books and magazines, and
feeling that there are kindred spirits out there. I spent a while listening
to poets, bought a couple books that were marked down for the occasion, and
then settled down to listen to TOFU, aka Tons of Fun University. This is a
group of three poets of the Spoken Word persuasion (one also plays keyboard
and provides vocal sound effects). Now I’m not sure about definitions, and
just exactly what makes a poet’s performance Spoken Word, or just spoken
words, but truth is these guys are tons of fun, and very good too.
They announced that
they were appearing in a café on
They carried on for a
couple of hours, the three core members, plus a fiddle player and a singer
(sorry, I should have her name, she was excellent too) and I’m glad to have
gone. Spoken Word, but suggestions of rap or hip-hop(hey, what do I know
about this young person stuff), use of rhyme, which was old-fashioned in my
day, but has always worked in songs, and with rap as well, is obviously
current, or is it alternative? Cutting edge? Comedy too, and also echoes of
born-again preachers. Good show.
Look for them at the Spoken Word Festival,
October 11-15, 2005. They’ll be at the finals on the Saturday night. (I just
realized, looking at the calendar, I won’t be able to go to the finals – I’ll
take in some of the other nights though.)
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