In Praise of a Slower Life, Canadian Thanksgiving, and Kit Courteney

I enjoy all your blogs. At times, caught up with my own writing, it's difficult to read them all. Along with my favorites, there are new ones constantly presenting themselves through my Google deliveries, and there just aren't enough hours in the day. Regardless, there are certain blogs I must read. They're not always about writing, but they are insights into the writer.

And so I designed my own special award for blogs I hate to miss. I'm going to send one out every week or so. They involve no rules to be carefully followed, no requests for forwarding and linking. Do with them what you will; honor your favorites.

The first is for Kit Courteney. She always makes me smile (rueful ones at times). It makes no difference to me whether or not she displays it, or if she chooses to send it to her own favorite blogs.  It's just my quiet little token of esteem. Thank you, Kit.

I'm at the 34% mark of Summer Must End, and suitably pleased with myself. The house is already a little messy, because of my computer time, but I'll take a break this weekend and have a tidy up. Nothing much else to report on the writing - the characters, as usual, have now taken over, bullies that they are. I'll let them go until around Christmas, and then I'll reign them in. They'll probably kick up a fuss, but, in the end, I'm the boss.

I found a very nice editorial at Huffington Post on the need to slow down the fast-paced life. Even in my corporate days, I was never really good at running about, chasing my tail a lot of the time, for that special salary, but I was efficient at appearing to be a quick mover. Of course, it was necessary in my role to multi-task, but I didn't enjoy it. I'd be useless in today's Bay Street office. I figure - whatever I'm doing - something is bound to suffer if I'm not dedicated to the task at hand. I like to get deep into each project, submerge myself in it, and that's how I work best. Sadly, in my family life, this was impossible. As a single parent, I juggled a demanding job and the demands of three young children. I'd get home exhausted, facing meal preparation and cleanups, getting the kids to complete their homework, take their showers, get off the phone! - all that stuff -  and I wasn't always in the best mood.  At times, they missed out.  I was an Absent Mom - there in body only, and a cranky body, at that. It saddens me now, but I can't turn back time. (And they don't resent me for it.)

Today, with our technological accessories, our constant need to be in touch, to be on top, seen as savvy, it's even harder. I feel for you, especially you moms. Read Arianna's post on Carl Honore's book, Praise of Slowness: Challenging the Cult of Speed, on the latest movement to save you from your harried life. Certainly never let your kids miss out on you. Turn off your phone tonight, stop surfing the net, and, just for a while, salute Buddhism, and be in the now for them. While you're at it, teach them how to do it, too. And don't forget to take some quiet time for yourself. And then find time for the writing. Superhuman, aren't we?

I've included a link here for a yet another article on e-publishing that I think you should read. It's a calm, simple observation of that other world through the eyes of agent Richard Curtis. We traditionalists get tired of seeing all the stories about Vooks, but we should stay on top of the subject, all the same. It's one thing to be perceived as elitist, quite another to be ignorant.

It's Thanksgiving weekend here. Canada's own celebration is based on a different historical take to that of the U.S. In fact, its early establishment as a civic holiday involved a lot of controversy. All that nastiness is well behind us now, and we enjoy our long weekend, appreciate the beautiful fall colors, and continue to be very grateful for where we live, and - in my case - it's all done without a turkey in sight. 

See you next week.

Another Full Request - British Agent!

Hafan Deg, the novel that's currently out there, poor orphan, in agent land, is set mainly in Wales and Australia. I would have preferred dealing with a London agent for it, believing they would somehow relate to the work more easily, but most British agents seem to detest email submissions, and I'm darned if I want to be running to the post office on a regular basis, especially as it costs. So I concentrated on New York, with only two queries sent to London.

I am delighted to announce that I had a request for the full manuscript yesterday, from a London agent. It's silly, but this pleases me enormously - not just the full request, which is amazing in itself - but I was born there, and my roots are there, despite years of living as an ex-pat. It's only fitting that my novel, which is probably 25% autobiographical, should go home.

This is the second Full request I've had, and I'll try to remain as practical about it as I can. I've been very cool about this whole submission business, haven't I? You know that from my philosophical blogs. If it happens, it happens. If it's good, it will sell. If it doesn't sell, I'll keep writing regardless. You've seen all that.

Then what the hell was that about yesterday, when I opened this agent's email, figuring it for another rejection? I burst into tears, didn't I? Only for a minute, mind, because I would have made the keyboard wet, but long enough to worry the cats.

My excuse is that I've been a bit emotional lately, what with the World War II events in Strachan's Attic (and the D-Day anniversary marathon TV viewing last weekend), and probably needed that good old-fashioned female response. But deep down I'm wondering if I'm as cool as I thought I was. We writers are only human, after all, agent-fail comments to the contrary.


I've written just one chapter of Strachan's Attic since Friday, or 2,600 words. I'm working in two time frames and locales, modern day Canada and 40's Britain, and the story is a fascinating but complicated ride. In some unconscious way, I think I'm delaying this portion of the book because within the next 5,000 words, I believe, I'll be dealing only with modern day events. I'm seriously going to miss my 40's characters.

Because my basic plot and the last line of the book (I always come up with that first with my novels) is already firm in my mind, it's where the characters will take it that's the unknown factor. This draft was based on a much earlier book but it's changed so much that my original agent wouldn't recognize it. It's the book I should have written the first time around, but didn't, and then I revised it for her, and basically screwed it up even more. I didn't believe in it after the changes, and neither, in the end, did she.

If you lose your passion for the work, you should put it firmly aside and let it ferment a little longer, and then try again. Strachan's story has been fermenting for a long time, and should be ready for decanting this time. I'm loving every minute of this total re-write, although it's taken me far longer that I'd expected, because my characters took over and I surrendered control to them. This time, however, aside from the sheer slog of writing, I am having a huge amount of fun.