Don Calame's Blog, page 2
March 19, 2015
Final edits and ruptured biceps
This blog is going to be very different for me. I’ve never used dictation on my computer before. It may read the same to you however I am not typing any of this. I’m speaking into my computer’s microphone.
I’ll get this right out of the way and let you know why I’m dictating this rather than typing it. I was very excited to be finished with my final edits on the new novel. And to celebrate, I signed up at the local recreation center to play drop in hockey. This was not a competitive league, we were not keeping score, our goalie was a 70-year-old woman named Shirley who could barely shuffle from post-to post. This should give you a sense of the speed and tempo of the game. However, I was having fun just skating around when the puck was passed to me. I reached out for it with my right arm and I felt a snap. I didn’t think anything of it. I thought I just strained a muscle. I continued to play in a little bit of pain. Figured I would put some ice on it when I got home.
When I got the locker room and I took off my equipment I looked down at my arm and saw that my bicep was not where it was supposed to be. It was floating up around my shoulder like a flabby piece of beef tenderloin. My initial thought was “that does not look right.” My next thought was “I need to get out of here before anyone else sees this.”
I returned home, showed my wife, and she too thought that there was a problem. I called my doctor, he had me send pictures, he told me I was probably going to need surgery.
And so here I am, post operation, trying to blog by dictating into my computer because I don’t have the use of my right arm. And while the itching under the bandage is driving me insane, and everything I have to do feels like an effort, I’m still grateful that it was just a ruptured bicep tendon and not something worse, something terminal. Because, there’s nothing that will make you feel more grateful for the life you have been sitting for six hours in an emergency room.
I am going to stop here because I keep having to go back and fix the mistakes my dictation software is making. It does seem a miracle that I can just speak and the words are typed on the screen. However when words like “felt like a snap” are typed as ASAP and the word puck is typed out as something far more offensive, one can get a little frustrated. It also doesn’t help that my dog keeps barking at the neighbors in the hall and my dictation software starts typing out Anna Anna Anna quiet Anna quiet Anna.
Until next time this is me signing out.
I’ll get this right out of the way and let you know why I’m dictating this rather than typing it. I was very excited to be finished with my final edits on the new novel. And to celebrate, I signed up at the local recreation center to play drop in hockey. This was not a competitive league, we were not keeping score, our goalie was a 70-year-old woman named Shirley who could barely shuffle from post-to post. This should give you a sense of the speed and tempo of the game. However, I was having fun just skating around when the puck was passed to me. I reached out for it with my right arm and I felt a snap. I didn’t think anything of it. I thought I just strained a muscle. I continued to play in a little bit of pain. Figured I would put some ice on it when I got home.
When I got the locker room and I took off my equipment I looked down at my arm and saw that my bicep was not where it was supposed to be. It was floating up around my shoulder like a flabby piece of beef tenderloin. My initial thought was “that does not look right.” My next thought was “I need to get out of here before anyone else sees this.”
I returned home, showed my wife, and she too thought that there was a problem. I called my doctor, he had me send pictures, he told me I was probably going to need surgery.
And so here I am, post operation, trying to blog by dictating into my computer because I don’t have the use of my right arm. And while the itching under the bandage is driving me insane, and everything I have to do feels like an effort, I’m still grateful that it was just a ruptured bicep tendon and not something worse, something terminal. Because, there’s nothing that will make you feel more grateful for the life you have been sitting for six hours in an emergency room.
I am going to stop here because I keep having to go back and fix the mistakes my dictation software is making. It does seem a miracle that I can just speak and the words are typed on the screen. However when words like “felt like a snap” are typed as ASAP and the word puck is typed out as something far more offensive, one can get a little frustrated. It also doesn’t help that my dog keeps barking at the neighbors in the hall and my dictation software starts typing out Anna Anna Anna quiet Anna quiet Anna.
Until next time this is me signing out.
November 12, 2014
A Little Time Off And Some Interstellar Traveling
So, I’ve handed in yet another revision for my latest book. I’m really happy about how this one has turned out, though it was a long haul getting it into shape. Now, I await the next round which will hopefully be a set of line edits (rather than the big sweeping edits of the last three drafts).With my few weeks of down time I’ve since finished (mostly) the clean up of my office. It no longer looks like a hoarder home, thank goodness. My wife tends to get a little panicky when she sees the stacks of papers, magazines and newspapers (mostly hockey or research related) that I hold onto. Not to mention my book buying addiction. But there always comes a point when I can’t take it anymore and I have to sort through everything and really decide if the stuff is worth keeping. So, at least I have a threshold. Sometimes I can’t let the things go (most of my Vancouver Olympics stuff) but often I am able to recycle and/or donate whatever I’ve amassed. While I probably have a bit of an unhealthy attachment to my stuff, I’m not so crazy that I can’t toss it if I need to. Still, I have to be wary of the situation in my own life as I did go through my dad’s house when he passed away and it seems this saving-stuff-because-someday-I-may-need-want-or-can-use-it runs in the family. And, although I don’t hoard old lottery tickets (I rarely even buy them), I do tend to squirrel away old issues of The Hockey News and Macworld because… well… you never know.Beyond the spring/fall/winter cleaning I’ve managed to catch up on some of my pop culture. Been reading books I’ve set aside (The Goldfinch by Donna Tart - very good thus far), been watching television shows (Arrow, Gotham, The Millers, Modern Family), attended a few hockey games, and have gone to see a few films.The latest movie I went to was Interstellar. I won’t spoil the film with a detailed recounting of the plot. Suffice it to say it was great in places and not so great in others. If you do see it, try to go to an IMAX theater as it is definitely visually stunning. I thought the story was a little hokey in places, not to mention a few paradoxes that muddy the waters, as well as an odd message “We were not meant to die on this planet, but to leave it.” Not sure this is the kind of lesson we want to be teaching future generations. That we can screw up this world, no biggie, we’ll just find another one to inhabit and… you know… screw that one up, too.Beyond all this, however, the film did spark in me an excitement for understanding the science behind the story. To learn more about wormholes, and blackholes, and the vastness of the universe, etc. etc.I suppose that if the movie inspires others to seek out answers and ask more scientific questions, then it certainly serves a good purpose. It’s one of things I think we’ve been losing in our society. The wonder that the natural world ought to evoke in us. I think many of us have become numb to it. Or simply don’t have time to even think about. Too much stress, too many bills, too many worries. But consider this.. just for fun. Our observable universe is 13.8 billion years old.(This is only the OBSERVABLE universe. It’s likely much older and much larger than we will ever know. It is also possible that ours is only one of many other universes that we will never know about.) Just to put this timeframe in perspective (thanks to Neil DeGrasse Tyson), if the entire time our observable universe were translated to a single calendar year, with the Big Bang being on January 1st, then the entirety of recorded human history (from the very first cave painting to The Goldfinch by Donna Tart) would be the last fourteen seconds of the last hour of the last day (December 31st) on that calendar. All our wars, empires raised and crumbled, inventions and scientific discoveries. Tick, tick, tick, tick…Just fourteen seconds. Much less time than it took for you to read this blog. I don’t know about you, but that boggles my mind.And so, that’s what I’ve been doing. Cleaning up, wasting some time, and wondering about life, the universe and everything. Oh, and eating custard filled croissants. Another of life’s wonders.
A Little Time Off And Some Interstellar Traveling
So, I’ve handed in yet another revision for my latest book. I’m really happy about how this one has turned out, though it was a long haul getting it into shape. Now, I await the next round which will hopefully be a set of line edits (rather than the big sweeping edits of the last three drafts).
With my few weeks of down time I’ve since finished (mostly) the clean up of my office. It no longer looks like a hoarder home, thank goodness. My wife tends to get a little panicky when she sees the stacks of papers, magazines and newspapers (mostly hockey or research related) that I hold onto. Not to mention my book buying addiction. But there always comes a point when I can’t take it anymore and I have to sort through everything and really decide if the stuff is worth keeping. So, at least I have a threshold.
Sometimes I can’t let the things go (most of my Vancouver Olympics stuff) but often I am able to recycle and/or donate whatever I’ve amassed. While I probably have a bit of an unhealthy attachment to my stuff, I’m not so crazy that I can’t toss it if I need to. Still, I have to be wary of the situation in my own life as I did go through my dad’s house when he passed away and it seems this saving-stuff-because-someday-I-may-need-want-or-can-use-it runs in the family. And, although I don’t hoard old lottery tickets (I rarely even buy them), I do tend to squirrel away old issues of The Hockey News and Macworld because… well… you never know.
Beyond the spring/fall/winter cleaning I’ve managed to catch up on some of my pop culture. Been reading books I’ve set aside (The Goldfinch by Donna Tart - very good thus far), been watching television shows (Arrow, Gotham, The Millers, Modern Family), attended a few hockey games, and have gone to see a few films.
The latest movie I went to was Interstellar. I won’t spoil the film with a detailed recounting of the plot. Suffice it to say it was great in places and not so great in others. If you do see it, try to go to an IMAX theater as it is definitely visually stunning. I thought the story was a little hokey in places, not to mention a few paradoxes that muddy the waters, as well as an odd message “We were not meant to die on this planet, but to leave it.” Not sure this is the kind of lesson we want to be teaching future generations. That we can screw up this world, no biggie, we’ll just find another one to inhabit and… you know… screw that one up, too.
Beyond all this, however, the film did spark in me an excitement for understanding the science behind the story. To learn more about wormholes, and blackholes, and the vastness of the universe, etc. etc.
I suppose that if the movie inspires others to seek out answers and ask more scientific questions, then it certainly serves a good purpose. It’s one of things I think we’ve been losing in our society. The wonder that the natural world ought to evoke in us. I think many of us have become numb to it. Or simply don’t have time to even think about. Too much stress, too many bills, too many worries.
But consider this.. just for fun. Our observable universe is 13.8 billion years old.(This is only the OBSERVABLE universe. It’s likely much older and much larger than we will ever know. It is also possible that ours is only one of many other universes that we will never know about.) Just to put this timeframe in perspective (thanks to Neil DeGrasse Tyson), if the entire time our observable universe were translated to a single calendar year, with the Big Bang being on January 1st, then the entirety of recorded human history (from the very first cave painting to The Goldfinch by Donna Tart) would be the last fourteen seconds of the last hour of the last day (December 31st) on that calendar. All our wars, empires raised and crumbled, inventions and scientific discoveries. Tick, tick, tick, tick…Just fourteen seconds. Much less time than it took for you to read this blog.
I don’t know about you, but that boggles my mind.
And so, that’s what I’ve been doing. Cleaning up, wasting some time, and wondering about life, the universe and everything.
Oh, and eating custard filled croissants. Another of life’s wonders.
With my few weeks of down time I’ve since finished (mostly) the clean up of my office. It no longer looks like a hoarder home, thank goodness. My wife tends to get a little panicky when she sees the stacks of papers, magazines and newspapers (mostly hockey or research related) that I hold onto. Not to mention my book buying addiction. But there always comes a point when I can’t take it anymore and I have to sort through everything and really decide if the stuff is worth keeping. So, at least I have a threshold.
Sometimes I can’t let the things go (most of my Vancouver Olympics stuff) but often I am able to recycle and/or donate whatever I’ve amassed. While I probably have a bit of an unhealthy attachment to my stuff, I’m not so crazy that I can’t toss it if I need to. Still, I have to be wary of the situation in my own life as I did go through my dad’s house when he passed away and it seems this saving-stuff-because-someday-I-may-need-want-or-can-use-it runs in the family. And, although I don’t hoard old lottery tickets (I rarely even buy them), I do tend to squirrel away old issues of The Hockey News and Macworld because… well… you never know.
Beyond the spring/fall/winter cleaning I’ve managed to catch up on some of my pop culture. Been reading books I’ve set aside (The Goldfinch by Donna Tart - very good thus far), been watching television shows (Arrow, Gotham, The Millers, Modern Family), attended a few hockey games, and have gone to see a few films.
The latest movie I went to was Interstellar. I won’t spoil the film with a detailed recounting of the plot. Suffice it to say it was great in places and not so great in others. If you do see it, try to go to an IMAX theater as it is definitely visually stunning. I thought the story was a little hokey in places, not to mention a few paradoxes that muddy the waters, as well as an odd message “We were not meant to die on this planet, but to leave it.” Not sure this is the kind of lesson we want to be teaching future generations. That we can screw up this world, no biggie, we’ll just find another one to inhabit and… you know… screw that one up, too.
Beyond all this, however, the film did spark in me an excitement for understanding the science behind the story. To learn more about wormholes, and blackholes, and the vastness of the universe, etc. etc.
I suppose that if the movie inspires others to seek out answers and ask more scientific questions, then it certainly serves a good purpose. It’s one of things I think we’ve been losing in our society. The wonder that the natural world ought to evoke in us. I think many of us have become numb to it. Or simply don’t have time to even think about. Too much stress, too many bills, too many worries.
But consider this.. just for fun. Our observable universe is 13.8 billion years old.(This is only the OBSERVABLE universe. It’s likely much older and much larger than we will ever know. It is also possible that ours is only one of many other universes that we will never know about.) Just to put this timeframe in perspective (thanks to Neil DeGrasse Tyson), if the entire time our observable universe were translated to a single calendar year, with the Big Bang being on January 1st, then the entirety of recorded human history (from the very first cave painting to The Goldfinch by Donna Tart) would be the last fourteen seconds of the last hour of the last day (December 31st) on that calendar. All our wars, empires raised and crumbled, inventions and scientific discoveries. Tick, tick, tick, tick…Just fourteen seconds. Much less time than it took for you to read this blog.
I don’t know about you, but that boggles my mind.
And so, that’s what I’ve been doing. Cleaning up, wasting some time, and wondering about life, the universe and everything.
Oh, and eating custard filled croissants. Another of life’s wonders.
September 26, 2014
Spring Cleaning… in the Fall
So, I hand in the latest draft of my new novel on Monday and promptly get to the spring cleaning I have been putting off… well… since the spring. I try to keep on top of all my junk the best I can. Try to sort through books, clothing, other stuff to donate, throw away, recycle. To keep my office from become a hoarder hole. It’s an ongoing battle as I tend to… well… collect a lot of crap… and I seem to be able to focus on only one thing at a time. For the last long while that one thing has been my book.
All this to say, many things have gotten neglected. Cleaning my car. Work on the house. Exercising. Shaving. This blog (in case you missed the date of the last one… it was a while ago).
Anyway, I was happy to see the book off with the knowledge that my editor would take a few weeks to read it. Get back to me with her notes maybe mid-October. I was pretty happy with this latest draft. Thought I’d addressed most of the concerns in my editor’s last editorial email. Even though it took me longer than I’d wanted it to. Always takes me longer than I want it to. I’ve said it before but writing is hard slow work. At least for me it is. There is satisfaction and fun there, for sure, but mostly it is squeezing ideas from your brain like water from a barely moist sponge. Sometimes it takes a lot of wringing to get just one drop.
Well, so, I sent the book off. And I was nervous. As I always am when I release the manuscript from the safety of my documents file into the big scary world. Nervous, but satisfied. Content that I’d done my best this round. Excited that I would have some breathing time. A chance to play NHL 15 on my Xbox. A chance to catch up on TV shows (finally saw True Detective and boy that was great fun). And an opportunity to clear the stacks of pages, and bills, and books, and Post-It notes, and cables, and… everything from my desk, my office floor, my bookshelves.
I got a nice start on Monday. Kept going on Tuesday. Several bags out to recycling. Several boxes of books to donate. A couple of sacks of garbage. Wednesday I played a lot of video hockey. Thursday I got back to the gym. And today I got my car detailed. The guy at the car wash laughing at me, saying he was going to call the cops and report the grow-op that was sprouting from my side mirrors. And he was joking, sure, but there was stuff growing on my car. That is how dirty it was. How long it’s been since I washed it.
I was feeling pretty darn good about what I was accomplishing. Didn’t have to think too much. Nothing to wrench from my imagination. No plot or character problems to solve. Just straight cleaning and organizing. Which usually would sound nightmarish to me but I was enjoying it. Felt like I was unburdening myself.
And then, today, an email from my editor, Kaylan. She loved the new draft. Got to it right away. Had a slew of great ideas and suggestions. I was so glad she liked the manuscript, was excited enough about it to get through it so quickly. But still… five days! That is a lightning fast turn around. My wife was laughing at me. She thought for sure it would be several weeks before I’d hear back.
So, here I am. Blogging like I promised myself I would. Dipping my toe back into the light of day. Only to have to go dark again.
I’ve got four weeks to get this next revision done. And so… well… don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from me for another month. Though I will try to come up for air more often than I have been. The exciting news is that the book is coming along nicely. And I think it’s going to be a good one.
And if my office has to stay half-organized for another month and I see the treadmill on a less-than-regular basis, well, I think it’s going to be worth it.
All this to say, many things have gotten neglected. Cleaning my car. Work on the house. Exercising. Shaving. This blog (in case you missed the date of the last one… it was a while ago).
Anyway, I was happy to see the book off with the knowledge that my editor would take a few weeks to read it. Get back to me with her notes maybe mid-October. I was pretty happy with this latest draft. Thought I’d addressed most of the concerns in my editor’s last editorial email. Even though it took me longer than I’d wanted it to. Always takes me longer than I want it to. I’ve said it before but writing is hard slow work. At least for me it is. There is satisfaction and fun there, for sure, but mostly it is squeezing ideas from your brain like water from a barely moist sponge. Sometimes it takes a lot of wringing to get just one drop.
Well, so, I sent the book off. And I was nervous. As I always am when I release the manuscript from the safety of my documents file into the big scary world. Nervous, but satisfied. Content that I’d done my best this round. Excited that I would have some breathing time. A chance to play NHL 15 on my Xbox. A chance to catch up on TV shows (finally saw True Detective and boy that was great fun). And an opportunity to clear the stacks of pages, and bills, and books, and Post-It notes, and cables, and… everything from my desk, my office floor, my bookshelves.
I got a nice start on Monday. Kept going on Tuesday. Several bags out to recycling. Several boxes of books to donate. A couple of sacks of garbage. Wednesday I played a lot of video hockey. Thursday I got back to the gym. And today I got my car detailed. The guy at the car wash laughing at me, saying he was going to call the cops and report the grow-op that was sprouting from my side mirrors. And he was joking, sure, but there was stuff growing on my car. That is how dirty it was. How long it’s been since I washed it.
I was feeling pretty darn good about what I was accomplishing. Didn’t have to think too much. Nothing to wrench from my imagination. No plot or character problems to solve. Just straight cleaning and organizing. Which usually would sound nightmarish to me but I was enjoying it. Felt like I was unburdening myself.
And then, today, an email from my editor, Kaylan. She loved the new draft. Got to it right away. Had a slew of great ideas and suggestions. I was so glad she liked the manuscript, was excited enough about it to get through it so quickly. But still… five days! That is a lightning fast turn around. My wife was laughing at me. She thought for sure it would be several weeks before I’d hear back.
So, here I am. Blogging like I promised myself I would. Dipping my toe back into the light of day. Only to have to go dark again.
I’ve got four weeks to get this next revision done. And so… well… don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from me for another month. Though I will try to come up for air more often than I have been. The exciting news is that the book is coming along nicely. And I think it’s going to be a good one.
And if my office has to stay half-organized for another month and I see the treadmill on a less-than-regular basis, well, I think it’s going to be worth it.
February 27, 2014
Writing, Hockey, Puppies and a Belated Happy New Year
Okay, so it’s been a few months since I’ve blogged. But I have some very good excuses. There is, of course, the rewrite of my new book which is due in just a few short weeks. Been really knuckling down to get this done. And, of course, there were the holidays. Not to mention the Olympic hockey tournament. Which was AMAZING! Also, my wife and I adopted a new puppy (see pictures below). If you’ve ever adopted a puppy before then you will know how very time consuming this can be. Especially when you live some place where it gets to be forty below. There’s shopping for all the puppy gear. Hourly trips outside in the freezing cold. Constant cuddling. Getting up every few hours at night to take more trips outside. You get the idea.
So, you see, I’ve been a tad busy.
But here I am to wish all my readers a very happy 2014. I can’t believe that we are already two months into this new year. Time seems to pick up speed as I get older. And it really takes off when I have a deadline approaching.
I have a love/hate relationship with deadlines. I seem to need them to get me motivated but I also feel incredibly anxious as they approach and I start doing page counts and realize that there is no way in hell that I am going to get finished in time.
That’s when it’s great to have a super supportive wife who will cheerleader you on. Also, nice to have a puppy to snuggle with and to remind you that life is good and to not take things so seriously.
On that note, say hello to Anna:
So, you see, I’ve been a tad busy.
But here I am to wish all my readers a very happy 2014. I can’t believe that we are already two months into this new year. Time seems to pick up speed as I get older. And it really takes off when I have a deadline approaching.
I have a love/hate relationship with deadlines. I seem to need them to get me motivated but I also feel incredibly anxious as they approach and I start doing page counts and realize that there is no way in hell that I am going to get finished in time.
That’s when it’s great to have a super supportive wife who will cheerleader you on. Also, nice to have a puppy to snuggle with and to remind you that life is good and to not take things so seriously.
On that note, say hello to Anna:
November 22, 2013
Nothing To Lose
If you ever want to feel like the speck on the speck on an ant’s ass, go to a planetarium and watch a show about how insanely huge the universe is. It’s really too much for the mind to wrap around. How unbelievably tiny we all are. If we actually could comprehend the enormity of it all we would never fear anything anymore. Because, really, in the grand GRAND scheme of things, we have nothing to be scared of. Our lives our less than a blip on the timeline of everything. Billions and billions. Of years. Of stars. Of? everything.
Why, then, be scared to go for the thing you want to go for? To dream huge? Any ridiculously enormous dream you can dream is still nothing compared to how unbelievably big our universe is.
Okay, yes, I did go to a planetarium recently. I bow my head. I confess. And it did affect me. On top of a lot of other things going on in my life right now. My father’s death. My mother’s illnesses. Grandparenthood. My recent middle age?
I guess I’m in the questioning phase of life. What’s it all mean? What’s my purpose? Why am I here? How do I want to spend the tiny blip of time I have left on this dot of a planet we live on?
I don’t have any answers. Really. I’m searching. Always.
I like listening to great music. Seeing a good movie. Reading a wonderful book. Playing guitar. Spending some cozy time looking into my wife’s eyes. Feeling her close. Hearing her voice, her laugh. Burying my nose in her neck, breathing her in.
Eating good food. Feeling grateful for the abundance I am so lucky to have in my life. My friends, my family, my dog, my everything.
Going to schools and reading my crazy books to students who seem tuned out and then to see a tiny spark in their eyes. Hear their laughter.
These are the things I live for. Everyone’s different. But that’s what keeps me getting out of bed every morning.
Wow. I thought I was going to write a light, funny, blog about tumbling through life? and then? this?.
You write what you write. What comes out. Sometimes it comes out differently than you imagined?.
Why, then, be scared to go for the thing you want to go for? To dream huge? Any ridiculously enormous dream you can dream is still nothing compared to how unbelievably big our universe is.
Okay, yes, I did go to a planetarium recently. I bow my head. I confess. And it did affect me. On top of a lot of other things going on in my life right now. My father’s death. My mother’s illnesses. Grandparenthood. My recent middle age?
I guess I’m in the questioning phase of life. What’s it all mean? What’s my purpose? Why am I here? How do I want to spend the tiny blip of time I have left on this dot of a planet we live on?
I don’t have any answers. Really. I’m searching. Always.
I like listening to great music. Seeing a good movie. Reading a wonderful book. Playing guitar. Spending some cozy time looking into my wife’s eyes. Feeling her close. Hearing her voice, her laugh. Burying my nose in her neck, breathing her in.
Eating good food. Feeling grateful for the abundance I am so lucky to have in my life. My friends, my family, my dog, my everything.
Going to schools and reading my crazy books to students who seem tuned out and then to see a tiny spark in their eyes. Hear their laughter.
These are the things I live for. Everyone’s different. But that’s what keeps me getting out of bed every morning.
Wow. I thought I was going to write a light, funny, blog about tumbling through life? and then? this?.
You write what you write. What comes out. Sometimes it comes out differently than you imagined?.
Nothing To Lose
If you ever want to fell like the speck on the speck on an ant’s ass, go to a planetarium and watch a show about how insanely huge the universe is. It’s really too much for the mind to wrap around. How unbelievably tiny we all are. If we actually could comprehend the enormity of it all we would never fear anything anymore. Because, really, in the grand GRAND scheme of things, we have nothing to be scared of. Our lives our less than a blip on the timeline of everything. Billions and billions. Of years. Of stars. Of� everything.
Why, then, be scared to go for the thing you want to go for? To dream huge? Any ridiculously enormous dream you can dream is still nothing compared to how unbelievably big our universe is.
Okay, yes, I did go to a planetarium recently. I bow my head. I confess. And it did affect me. On top of a lot of other things going on in my life right now. My father’s death. My mother’s illnesses. Grandparenthood. My recent middle age�
I guess I’m in the questioning phase of life. What’s it all mean? What’s my purpose? Why am I here? How do I want to spend the tiny blip of time I have left on this dot of a planet we live on?
I don’t have any answers. Really. I’m searching. Always.
I like listening to great music. Seeing a good movie. Reading a wonderful book. Playing guitar. Spending some cozy time looking into my wife’s eyes. Feeling her close. Hearing her voice, Her laugh. Burying my nose in her neck, breathing her in.
Eating good food. Feeling grateful for the abundance I am so lucky to have in my life. My friends, my family, my dog, my everything.
Going to schools and reading my crazy books to students who seem tuned out and then to see a tiny spark in their eyes. Hear their laughter.
These are the things I live for. Everyone’s different. But that’s what keeps me getting out of bed every morning.
Wow. I thought I was going to write a light, funny, blog about tumbling through life� and then� this�.
You write what you write. What comes out. Sometimes it comes out differently than you imagined�.
Why, then, be scared to go for the thing you want to go for? To dream huge? Any ridiculously enormous dream you can dream is still nothing compared to how unbelievably big our universe is.
Okay, yes, I did go to a planetarium recently. I bow my head. I confess. And it did affect me. On top of a lot of other things going on in my life right now. My father’s death. My mother’s illnesses. Grandparenthood. My recent middle age�
I guess I’m in the questioning phase of life. What’s it all mean? What’s my purpose? Why am I here? How do I want to spend the tiny blip of time I have left on this dot of a planet we live on?
I don’t have any answers. Really. I’m searching. Always.
I like listening to great music. Seeing a good movie. Reading a wonderful book. Playing guitar. Spending some cozy time looking into my wife’s eyes. Feeling her close. Hearing her voice, Her laugh. Burying my nose in her neck, breathing her in.
Eating good food. Feeling grateful for the abundance I am so lucky to have in my life. My friends, my family, my dog, my everything.
Going to schools and reading my crazy books to students who seem tuned out and then to see a tiny spark in their eyes. Hear their laughter.
These are the things I live for. Everyone’s different. But that’s what keeps me getting out of bed every morning.
Wow. I thought I was going to write a light, funny, blog about tumbling through life� and then� this�.
You write what you write. What comes out. Sometimes it comes out differently than you imagined�.
August 17, 2013
Busy Fall
It’s shaping up to be a pretty crowded September and October.
I’ve got my new book due to my editor in October (yikes, that seemed like so far away just a couple of months ago).
I will be reading at Word on the Street Toronto on September 22nd and Word on the Street Kitchner on the 21st.
I am teaching a writing workshop at the Oakwood Village Library in Toronto from September 25th through October 16th.
I will be attending the Vancouver Writer’s Festival Literati Gala on October 21st and reading at the Vancouver Writer’s Festival on October 24th.
And of course, there are several school visits scheduled throughout this fall.
I wish I could say I’d had a relaxing summer in preparation but unfortunately I got very sick (I won’t go into the gory details) for three weeks and was pretty much out of commission. I’m better now, thank goodness, but it did not make for the best July/August. You never appreciate your health as much as when you don’t have it. And, as much of a cliche as it is, if you don’t have your health you really don’t have anything. Because you can’t appreciate the rest of the things in your life when all you want to do is lie on the couch and sleep.
Anyway, that’s what my autumn is looking like and I’m excited about it. I love getting out and meeting readers, talking writing and reading. Should be a good time.
I’ve got my new book due to my editor in October (yikes, that seemed like so far away just a couple of months ago).
I will be reading at Word on the Street Toronto on September 22nd and Word on the Street Kitchner on the 21st.
I am teaching a writing workshop at the Oakwood Village Library in Toronto from September 25th through October 16th.
I will be attending the Vancouver Writer’s Festival Literati Gala on October 21st and reading at the Vancouver Writer’s Festival on October 24th.
And of course, there are several school visits scheduled throughout this fall.
I wish I could say I’d had a relaxing summer in preparation but unfortunately I got very sick (I won’t go into the gory details) for three weeks and was pretty much out of commission. I’m better now, thank goodness, but it did not make for the best July/August. You never appreciate your health as much as when you don’t have it. And, as much of a cliche as it is, if you don’t have your health you really don’t have anything. Because you can’t appreciate the rest of the things in your life when all you want to do is lie on the couch and sleep.
Anyway, that’s what my autumn is looking like and I’m excited about it. I love getting out and meeting readers, talking writing and reading. Should be a good time.
July 20, 2013
Why Do I Do This To Myself?
Sometimes I love what I do. Sometimes the writing is fun and easy and free flowing.
But sometimes it isn’t.
David Rakoff (may he rest in peace) once said that writing was like having his teeth pulled out… through his penis. On the days when I am staring at my computer screen, racking my brain for ways to solve a Gordian-knotesque problem in my story, this is an accurate description of how it feels. And it is during these times that I ask myself, “Why am I doing this to myself? I could be rescuing kittens, or feeding the homeless, or teaching, or taking pictures, or cooking a tasty dinner, or sipping some wine and watching the sunset. Why am I torturing myself like this? Why I am pulling my teeth out through my penis?”
And then I’ll have a good day of writing. I’ll make myself laugh. Or I’ll get a letter from a reader who loved reading my books. Or a parent who’s son had never finished a book until he read Swim the Fly. Or a Tweet from someone who “was so sad when he’d read the last page of Call the Shots knowing that the series was over.”
All of this is not to say that I am such a gifted writer. I do what I do the best that I know how. It’s just that it can be a challenge to sit by yourself for so many hours, often throwing away whole swaths of your book, pages and pages that you rung from your addled brain, tossed in the trash because the story wasn’t working, wasn’t good, was trying too hard. And it’s nice to get those little yeses from the Universe, the little hellos from the outside world.
Right now the writing of my new book is going well but there were large portions of time (days, weeks, months) where I felt like I was trying to dig a hole in quicksand. It takes a lot of willpower to get back in that chair, boot up the computer, slip on the headphones and sink back into the story.
But I do it. Because on the days it is going well there is little else I’d want to be doing.
But sometimes it isn’t.
David Rakoff (may he rest in peace) once said that writing was like having his teeth pulled out… through his penis. On the days when I am staring at my computer screen, racking my brain for ways to solve a Gordian-knotesque problem in my story, this is an accurate description of how it feels. And it is during these times that I ask myself, “Why am I doing this to myself? I could be rescuing kittens, or feeding the homeless, or teaching, or taking pictures, or cooking a tasty dinner, or sipping some wine and watching the sunset. Why am I torturing myself like this? Why I am pulling my teeth out through my penis?”
And then I’ll have a good day of writing. I’ll make myself laugh. Or I’ll get a letter from a reader who loved reading my books. Or a parent who’s son had never finished a book until he read Swim the Fly. Or a Tweet from someone who “was so sad when he’d read the last page of Call the Shots knowing that the series was over.”
All of this is not to say that I am such a gifted writer. I do what I do the best that I know how. It’s just that it can be a challenge to sit by yourself for so many hours, often throwing away whole swaths of your book, pages and pages that you rung from your addled brain, tossed in the trash because the story wasn’t working, wasn’t good, was trying too hard. And it’s nice to get those little yeses from the Universe, the little hellos from the outside world.
Right now the writing of my new book is going well but there were large portions of time (days, weeks, months) where I felt like I was trying to dig a hole in quicksand. It takes a lot of willpower to get back in that chair, boot up the computer, slip on the headphones and sink back into the story.
But I do it. Because on the days it is going well there is little else I’d want to be doing.
Why Do I Do This To Myself?
Sometimes I love what I do. Sometimes the writing is fun and easy and free flowing.
But sometimes it isn’t.
David Rakoff (may he rest in peace) once said that writing was like having his teeth pulled out… through his penis. On the days when I am staring at my computer screen, racking my brain for ways to solve a Gordian-knotesque problem in my story, this is an accurate description of how it feels. And it is during these times that I ask myself, “Why am I doing this to myself? I could be rescuing kittens, or feeding the homeless, or teaching, or taking pictures, or cooking a tasty dinner, or sipping some wine and watching the sunset. Why am I torturing myself like this? Why I am pulling my teeth out through my penis?”
And then I’ll have a good day of writing. I’ll make myself laugh. Or I’ll get a letter from a reader who loved reading my books. Or a parent who’s son had never finished a book until he read Swim the Fly. Or a Tweet from someone who “was so sad when he’d read the last page of Call the Shots knowing that the series was over.”
All of this is not to say that I am such a gifted writer. I do what I do the best that I know how. It’s just that it can be a challenge to sit by yourself for so many hours, often throwing away whole swaths of your book, pages and pages that you rung from your addled brain, tossed in the trash because the story wasn’t working, wasn’t good, was trying too hard. And it’s nice to get those little yeses from the Universe, the little hellos from the outside world.
Right now the writing of my new book is going well but there were large portions of time (days, weeks, months) where I felt like I was trying to dig a hole in quicksand. It takes a lot of willpower to get back in that chair, boot up the computer, slip on the headphones and sink back into the story.
But I do it. Because on the days it is going well there is little else I’d want to be doing.
But sometimes it isn’t.
David Rakoff (may he rest in peace) once said that writing was like having his teeth pulled out… through his penis. On the days when I am staring at my computer screen, racking my brain for ways to solve a Gordian-knotesque problem in my story, this is an accurate description of how it feels. And it is during these times that I ask myself, “Why am I doing this to myself? I could be rescuing kittens, or feeding the homeless, or teaching, or taking pictures, or cooking a tasty dinner, or sipping some wine and watching the sunset. Why am I torturing myself like this? Why I am pulling my teeth out through my penis?”
And then I’ll have a good day of writing. I’ll make myself laugh. Or I’ll get a letter from a reader who loved reading my books. Or a parent who’s son had never finished a book until he read Swim the Fly. Or a Tweet from someone who “was so sad when he’d read the last page of Call the Shots knowing that the series was over.”
All of this is not to say that I am such a gifted writer. I do what I do the best that I know how. It’s just that it can be a challenge to sit by yourself for so many hours, often throwing away whole swaths of your book, pages and pages that you rung from your addled brain, tossed in the trash because the story wasn’t working, wasn’t good, was trying too hard. And it’s nice to get those little yeses from the Universe, the little hellos from the outside world.
Right now the writing of my new book is going well but there were large portions of time (days, weeks, months) where I felt like I was trying to dig a hole in quicksand. It takes a lot of willpower to get back in that chair, boot up the computer, slip on the headphones and sink back into the story.
But I do it. Because on the days it is going well there is little else I’d want to be doing.
