October 22, 2006
Mochi sick
I thought Leah McLaren used her platform for good this week. On orgies of prizes. And the Hungarian Revolution is all over the news.
This weekend has been quiet and rainy, and I’ve been working all day since I woke up this morn. None of this bodes well for an interesting summation, but we did have sushi yesterday and it was delicious. Afterwards, we went to the Korean grocery store and got meron pan, Japanese curry and so much mochi we made ourselves sick. Friday night our basement neighbour woke us up at 4:30 screaming and crying. I could tell you more, but it only gets duller. Such is life, at the mo.
October 21, 2006
Saint Drabble
Am OUTRAGED by this sorry excuse for a review of The Sea Lady in today’s G&M. All right, not that I’ve actually read the novel in question, because as I explained previously, I am waiting to savour it. But I’ve still got a right to outrage. My two main points are these: that the review gets the main character’s name wrong throughout, and that the “review” is mainly composed of excerpts of Drabble’s prose out of context. The scant criticism seems mainly to do with too many facts and too many mermaids, and little consideration of what Drabble might have intended of her devices. This review seemed unfair to me, though I will admit I’m perhaps a bit protective.
October 20, 2006
the lawn mower that is broken
It is curious that I no longer require the use of an index and can remember that the explanation for “that vs. which” lies on page 59 of my Strunk and White, and yet I never can remember what the explanation is.
October 20, 2006
Bits
Evening rolls in earlier this time of year, and walking home down darkened streets, I am attracted to light like a moth is.
The uncanny is the flipside of reason, all that which refuses to be contained within knowledge, and so, consequently, if new learning serves to bring about further bewilderment, the Enlightenment would have been a most perplexing period indeed.
I never expected to discover myself like this, still in bed half-way through a Friday morning, with you seven hours ahead of me indefinitely, part-way around the world.
October 20, 2006
Growing up in Las Vegas, England seemed so far away
There’s lots of good pop-music news in The Guardian today. My favourite is the review of the new Robbie Williams’ album. Apparently “Rudebox” is not very good. I quote (rather extendedly, but it’s funny): “…it’s hard to think of a song more likely to curb the listener’s generosity of spirit than Rudebox’s closing “secret” track, Dickhead. A woeful sub-Eminem rant, it features Williams gallantly threatening to set his retinue of bouncers on anyone who dares to criticise his music. By the time it concludes, puzzlingly, with the singer shouting “I’ve got a bucket of shit! I’ve got a bucket of shit!”, one feels less inclined to say the kind thing than the cruel thing: you don’t need to tell me that, pal, I’ve just spent the last hour examining it.” An excerpt on Razorlight in Japan, which is exciting, because that’s where Stuart and I first saw them, and because their wonderful “America” is predicted to be the UK number one this week. And, finally, I had no idea the Killers’ new album was a mormon rock concept album.
I’m honestly so glad the forces conspired to send me two (2!) rejection letters in one day yesterday. No sense in dragging out my failures for weeks, and to buckle down and onward then. My big project has lately developed a new cohesion and I wrote a lovely little essay yesterday, and so I am not so disheartened. I’m still reading Nixon in China, and of course a novel on the side. Penelope Lively’s Heat Wave. She really is one of my favourite authors; she’s never aloof and it’s as though she conjures her stories from my preoccupations, but perhaps that’s a sort of self-absorbed way to regard them. Next up is The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield, which is the most beautiful new book I’ve come across since The Middle Stories or Elegance. It has the most gorgeous endpapers. I can’t wait to read it.
Another article about the blighted East Midlands, Nottingham’s urban decay and suburban gangs (big ups the Basford massive!). Interesting from an urban development point of view, but all the same, we lived there and it wasn’t so bad.
October 19, 2006
Names
Until this morning, a character in my story was called Bob. I’m not sure why that was his name, as it’s not a name I’m overly fond of, but it’s been his name for nearly two years now and I’d sort of grown accustomed to it. But it didn’t sit perfectly with me. When I hear the name “Bob” in real life, it brings about connotations I don’t associate with my character. I’d sort of invested him with an “alternate Bob-ness”, but of course a reader wouldn’t get that. Readers have indicated this. And so this morning, with just a click (“change-all”), Bob became John. I am interested to see how this change alters my story, and how his new name changes his character. What elements will the fact of John-ness bring?
October 18, 2006
Sherrie Mitten?
The bad thing about the fictional creative writing workshops I mentioned is that on my bad days, I wonder exactly which pitiful-student-in-the-workshop-driving-my-instructor-to-suicide am I?
October 17, 2006
An all-night cosmic dance-a-thon
I loved Jennica Harper‘s book The Octopus and Other Poems and now she’s coming to read in Toronto! I’m going. You should too.
8:00 pm, Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Box Salon Reading Series
Rivoli Cafe and Club
332 Queen Street West
Toronto
8:00 pm, Friday, October 27, 2006
I.V. Lounge
326 Dundas Street West
Toronto
7:30 pm, Thursday, November 2, 2006
Fellini’s Shoe Cafe
226 Carlton Street
Toronto
October 17, 2006
The Great Pumpkin Shortage
I am the worst wife. Last night I heard a teaser from the CTV eleven o’clock news about a pumpkin shortage, and well, naturally I panicked. I told Stuart to get out to the shops first thing this morning and secure us a pumpkin; that there would probably be mass hysteria and he’d have to fight for his gourd. Brave noble man that he is, he set out this morning in the pouring rain to fetch us our punkin. However it seems that The Great Pumpkin Shortage is actually the plight of our American friends and Canadian patches are fine. I feel bad for sending Stu into the rain for nowt, and I will never trust Lloyd Robertson again.
October 16, 2006
Homesick
bMay I introduce the incredible Laura Conchelos, who has become blogolicious of late. Mainly just cuz she’s moving to the South Pole this week. If you know Laura Conchelos, you are probably not altogether surprised to hear that, and if you don’t know Laura Conchelos, you should. Sometimes she comes to my house bearing organic non-perishable goods she canned herself. I adore her. In addition, the ever-brilliant Erin has moved blogs, so update all links accordingly!
André Alexiswrites that the best English book in Canada probably shouldn’t be French, and that translators are getting shafted. India Knight has edited an anthology called The Dirty Bits for Girls: “And of course one of the marvellous things about finding out about sex through books was that it instilled a love of reading”. On growing up on MOR radio. The Governor General’s shortlist– and no women! oh my. Now reading Barometer Rising and Nixon in China: The Week that Changed the World.
