Only Fools...

With one day to myself before I jump back onto the treadmill of life, what better way to spend it than doing something I love? The Easter weekend began with the promise of adventure and inspiration as I played commuter from my little island in the Pacific to be a tourist on the mainland and to explore the familiar through the lens of a visitor.

As I waited for my ferry, I perused the waiting shelf library and picked up a few books to immerse myself during the familiar ride to the mainland. It was a few pages in when a line struck me. Camus' The Plague is undoubtedly not in the same vein as my first novel or the second I am currently working on. However, his comment on how "Men and women consume one another rapidly in what is called "the act of love," or else settle down to a mild habit of conjugality. [And how,] we seldom find a mean between these two extremes" (p.5) made me think deeply about the construction of my current narrative and, perhaps, the absurdity of love. 

Amidst the weekend of confessions, introspective revelations, photographic exposition, and poetry; I was reminded of moments relived through the gaze of salty libations within the Ballyhoo. Straddling time and space within the thread of a story unfolding, I thought of my first novel and how the mirage of epistolary love and navigating relationships, no matter the time, is often a balancing act held together by hope.

As a teenager, the here and now was a more tangible concept. My first novel spoke to the allure of a epistolary relationship as today's space is one where borders are blurred, and distances shrink, almost beckoning an adventurous soul to seek love across oceans and continents. Yet, we forget that beneath the surface of seemingly romantic unions, a delicate web of hope and delusion remains much like the romance of my second novel, which spans three generations and weaves together the tapestry of two families. This web of hope and delusions is a mirage that promises connection but often leaves hearts adrift in a sea of uncertainty despite a generational milieu. It made me think of my characters and how love and longing intertwine the complexities of existence, how they have been bound by fate yet teeter on the precipice of being torn asunder by the march of time. I have played with the chance encounters that led to the serendipity of their love affair, the seeds of doubt, the collision of their worlds, and how those fleeting moments of happiness can quickly be overshadowed by the looming spectre of inevitability, just like the concept of sliding doors and the knowledge that these moments together are but a transient blip in the vast expanse of eternity.

And so I find myself enthralled by that quote from Camus, as it concisely elucidates the consumptive activity of love that my first novel speaks to about lovers becoming adrift in their once-boundless passion and inextricably reduced to nought but memories and impulsive threads. 

It is sometimes hard to live in reverse when writing since this second novel is intragenerational and ends far before the entanglements of the fragile threads of technology and longing. Those late-night conversations blossoming in the digital realm like the cherry trees in spring rife with virtual embraces that bridge the chasm of distance are not something of the past. And, to re-immerse oneself in the whispers of sweet nothings and promises of forever is a space in which the shadow of delusions in the very fabric of love is not easy as it relies on effacing the current reality. Yet, it brings one back to the common thread, hope. 

Hope becomes both the anchor and downfall in both worlds. With the instant gratification of screens replacing embraces and where emojis stand in for kisses, it's easy to lose sight of the tangible realities of love. And so, I am finding myself lost in translating that abstract concept of distance as it was measured, in kilometres and not missed calls or messages left hanging. There is a natural blurring of the lines between reality and fantasy that is less obvious than it is in the clutter of a virtual connection.

So, in that haze, I am rummaging through those delusions to reveal a kernel of truth, a taste of the past unfettered by constructed realities and unearthing the harsh realities of distance and time that can eventually extinguish that passion. I am attuned to reveal the echoes of what could have been, the aftermath of a broken heart, and the balancing act of relationships. It is a delicate dance between hope and delusion, reality and fantasy, and finding solace in the arms of a lover or finding oneself lost in the wilderness of their desires. 

With that, before April is upon us, I will plunge back into submission prep and novel number two.

Launch countdown

After a 14hr marathon of writing a twenty-page paper on Bowenian Theory on only 3hrs of sleep, I am once again wearing an academic hat. It feels good to be back crafting the intricate puzzle of a familiar genre. That said, I was equally excited to learn that one of my first pieces of creative nonfiction was selected for publication in a literary zine that has published such international talents as Atwood and one of my favourite poets, Bukowski. Looking forward to the launch party! 

Thanatosis

At the beginning of the week, I reviewed Honeyman’s novel and a quote from the book resonated with me. 

“There are days when I feel so lightly connected to the earth that the threads that tether me to the planet are gossamer thin, spun sugar. A strong gust of wind could dislodge me completely, and I’d lift off and blow away, like one of those seeds in a dandelion clock.” (Honeyman, 2017). 

This quote embodies the last few weeks for me, and even more so in the last few days. As I make my way westward I look forward to staring out into the wide expanse of the North Pacific and being cut off from technology. This time to write and explore has been like a strong wind that has dislodged my spun sugar connections to a previous life. The guidance that disconnection brings is like being a satellite above my life, an opportunity to examine, understand and create a new path. Sometimes we need that disconnection to allow for introspection, a moment to quiet all the competing voices that surround us so that we can hear our own.  I have a few more weeks until I embark on new adventures that my work in September will bring. 

So for today, I am grateful for that wind to continue to take me farther away...  

When We Were Birds

Part two of my writer's adventure ended up becoming one but that’s all part of the fun! It took some planning but I think all the kinks are finally ironed out. I am really looking forward to a week of good laughs, hard work, networking, searching, dedication and both inspiring and being inspired... Counting down! Two weeks to go until my writer's adventure! 

And, maybe a little break for some mural hunting too! ☺️ This beauty is by Ana Marietta from Blink 2017 a little digital gift from an awesome travel partner who caught the mural hunting bug from me during our last road trip together!

Adaptation

“If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.”― Cicero

In life, there are so many unexpected changes that I find myself relentlessly re-evaluating myself. I’m a human chameleon devouring the understandings of the flashes of my existence. On this first of July, Canada’s birthday, I look out to the mountains from my yard after an early morning hike with my girl, some gardening and a writing exercise that perplexed me from the onset. The warm-up for this morning was of the very short story style, 19 words to be exact. I crafted 9 stories, and it was a great way to warm up for the editing work I have set aside for this month. You have little room for the superfluous with so few words which puts me in the right mindset with my red pen eagerly hovering over my manuscript. 

I met my deadline for the POV switch of my June story May Day but was way over my word limit! I write my stories from a female perspective so to get into the mindset of my male character was a huge but rewarding struggle. And, my beta readers loved it; a huge relief. Dialogue and POV are new to me as my academic writing background calls for neither so I welcome these new challenges. My day started bright and early with the sun. So, I think I will also take the afternoon to celebrate; lest I find myself in the same predicament as good ole Jack…  

Happy Canada Day!          

Stay kind. It makes you beautiful @najwazebian

It’s the little things in life that make memorable moments for me. It’s the thoughtful gestures of kindness that can change my day in an instant. The end-of-the-year always brings those opportunities to share appreciation, from the colourful sweets and savoury treats to handcrafted bath bombs, and lovely cards. The students that surround me for an end-of-year hug truly warm the heart. Each of these momentary snapshots of kind gestures from the surrounding students rekindles my spirit after a hard year. I think that is something I try to remember when crafting some of my characters. 

It’s easy to forget, but those little moments in real life do make the world a difference. So, just as paying attention to those details can breathe life into you, so too, do they bring to life to the characters we create in our narratives. That’s what makes a moment special, the nuances and appreciation. I think about that as I go through my own day and have thought about that each time I write a story. 

As I jump into summer with re-inspired energy to write. I’ve been working on my villain from YBGTL, the contemporary thriller, and the warped love story I mentioned in my last post. I am often blinded from the negative aspects wanting to only see the good, or rather focus on the positive traits in people so it’s a task for me to draw out the nefarious elements in people I have encountered in life. I think it’s why it was such a surprise twist to my readers of YBGTL. But, I have a weekend deadline to meet. So I will have to explore that thought another time. I have my work cut out for me :)

On that note, I guess I should get back to working on my June assignment and get it in before the month is up. I have a handful of anxious beta readers and critique partners that proofed the first part eagerly waiting to read the flip side of my story, my male voice... 

Happy summer!

Fifty Shades of my Imagination

I knew I was close, and today marks the day I have submitted 50 stories for review (and one book proposal). It feels a little surreal when I think of it. I started this journey on February 12 of this year when I surrendered a personal piece for a huge Literary Contest (it is still being reviewed and I have yet to hear any news). Once I had made myself vulnerable, I decided that I would continue to work on writing new pieces for submission. As the saying goes; it takes a hundred attempts before a win. So, if they reject all the above stories; I’m halfway there!

My writing group has been a great support in keeping me on my toes. I work well under a looming deadline. It’s a very informal group, but they have pushed me and enjoyed what I have shared with them along the way. When I have doubted myself it’s been those stories that have spoken to them. Today I should write my POV switch "assignment"
for the group but it’s been hard. I’ve been rolling ideas around in my head for two weeks now and I am still struggling, which is great. I suggested the POV switch since I hate it 😁 I am always interested in growth and we get nowhere without challenging ourselves.

Speaking of growth… While I wait for responses from the journals I have submitted my work to, my garden is producing much better returns, for now… So here’s to too many leafy greens! Bottoms up!

Unspoken Truths

By Marie-France Boissonneault (Dallas Road)

In the health class I have taught for the past two years, I incorporated an assignment from one of my previous classes that explores themes of embodiment through our five senses. 

In writing through animal characters, I have found this to be an ideal way to enable a deeper understanding of the world through the experience of another’s whom we cannot truly grasp due to our own limitations. I am always amazed at the imaginative ways that my students describe the experience. It can be a difficult task given the criteria, but some, like the first time I assigned it, really take to the challenge!

This past term, I came across a book in my middle school library that illustrated the exercise beautifully when writing about colour. This book proved to be a great tool to help some of the students that struggled with the assignment. It is hard to conceptualise the world of another, whether it is a being from our own species or a species with which our experience of the world is so far removed from our own.

We all live intricate lives that have a unique unspoken understanding to each that may cross our paths but they are only truly appreciated by ourselves. The reasons we do things, the choices we make, the way we survive, how we keep strong and smile into the next day… We can look upon another and try to assume that we understand their struggles or their pain, their joys or their sorrows, or even the reality that they mirror to the outside world, but no matter who we are there is always a hidden truth.

It is fascinating to travel through the realms of other beings by researching their experiences of the world and describing it to the best of my ability. As well, it is a great writing exercise to challenge oneself to describe an understanding outside the confines of the shared, and to inwardly conceptualise the journey forbidden from using descriptors related to our senses in question…