Trillium Book Awards Author Reading 2015

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What young master Corey spent his time dreaming about

I thought I’d make a little detour through time today, and revisit myself *ahem* 27 years or so ago.

Recently, I had the pleasure of speaking to a grade 4 class on the publishing process. During my talk, I mentioned that the students should save everything they write, as they will want to revisit their past efforts at some point. While I said this, I thought back to my own magnum opus of my youth, a sequel to George Lucas’ The Empire Strikes Back. I thought the story was lost to the packing boxes and dumpsters of time.

Go forward 4 months, and my mother unearths the very story, complete with barely-competent illustrations and scratch-and-sniff stickers adorning the cover (The pickle still smells!).

There's free stuff on the Internet? Gee whiz!

It’s late, the library is closed, there’s nothing on the tube, you’ve read everything on your shelves, and have no extra change to go out and purchase the latest magazines. What, oh what, shall you do?

Consider these three online ‘zines, chockablock crammed with great stories by both established pros and promising newcomers:

Is this even satire anymore?

For proof of the way the wind seems to be blowing, check out this article (via The Onion):


Area Eccentric Reads Entire Book

Sitting in a quiet downtown diner, local hospital administrator Philip Meyer looks as normal and well-adjusted as can be. Yet, there's more to this 27-year-old than first meets the eye: Meyer has recently finished reading a book.

Is it just me, or is this so close to the truth that it barely counts as satire? I've gotten dirty looks on the bus for reading, as if somehow my enjoyment is spoiling their whole day.

An open letter to the people of Ontario (and, really, the rest of Canada)

*Ahem

Now, I realize that, as Canadians, we all pride ourselves on our hardiness, our ruggedness, our strength of will when it comes to the elements.

However...

YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT COLD MEANS, PEOPLE! -45 DEGREES BELOW ZER0!! CELCIUS!!! MAN WAS NOT MEANT TO LIVE THIS WAY!!!!

I'll continue with the blog when the feeling returns to my extremities, and that blackened finger, at long last, drops off.

The perils of being honest

I’d like to write on one of the most nerve-wracking elements of getting published: the reviews.

I SO want to do this...

Perfect for the literary types with extra time and a knowledge of home decoration techniques:

Dictionary wallpaper!

*Big gracias to Bookninja for the link.

Your public persona

So, you’ve written a book. Bravo. You’ve gotten a publisher. Double bravo. Think you’re done? Not even close.

It’s time for Marketing 101; Putting Your Pretty Face Out There.

Yes, many authors seek the literary life because they enjoy the solitude. I could not tell you the statistics on how many authors are natural extroverts, but I’m betting it’s a low percentage. We have rich inner lives. It’s just you, the paper and ink, and whatever gossamer you can spin from the ether. We don’t aspire to the spotlight for ourselves; we want the work to speak for itself.

Catch me if you can

I'll have a longer entry on the dos and do not dos of public readings up soon, but first, some housekeeping.

I will be reading and signing copies of my novel Shelf Monkey at:

Type Books

883 Queen Street West
Toronto, ON
Date: Thursday, January 24, 2008
Time: 7pm-9pm

And if that weren't enough excitement:

Curiosity House Books

134A Mill Street
Creemore, ON
Date: Saturday, January 26, 2008
Time: 2pm-4pm

After which, of course, I check to see if I can see my shadow, and then vanish into the ground, subjecting you all to unrelenting winter. Yes, I have that power.

Grrrrr...

Remember that piece I wrote on luck a while back? That deep, penetrating look at that most intangible yet important resource to the writer?

Well, if you're not having any luck lately, I think I know why; this author has it all, with none to spare.

Must...keep...murderous...envy...down.

*Thanks to Bookninja for the info.

Second time at bat

When I was young and marginally more stupid than I am now – ah, those heady days of youth, how fleeting they seem now to this aged mind! – I took a one-day course in skydiving. Well, parachuting, really, as you have to work your way up to skydiving freefall. Signing up, I had visions of every WWII movie I’ve ever seen; a lineup of eager recruits by the gaping door of a transit plane, each jumping out headlong into the endless abyss. Wheee!

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