Marie Bilodeau's Blog, page 18

Realists (Warning: Venting Ahead!)

I have to vent. In a public forum. I usually vent at home while sitting on my couch and eating popcorn, spitting little pieces across the room at Roomy who desperately tries to dodge them, but I think I need to say this publicly.  Why not?  And, as an aside, I'm not suggesting no one's reality sucks.  I'm ranting against the use of the "realist" self-label.

The Rant

Every time I hear someone

Happy Birthday to My Bro!

I consider myself lucky to have an older brother. Don't get me wrong - he's a pain. He's always been one, but that's part of the fun and, I believe, the Big Brother Call of Duty (not the 1984 big brother, to be clear).

When I was growing up, I followed him all over the place. I'm sure he thought I was a pain, too... I flushed his truck, once. His favourite toy truck. He apparently has yet to

A New Love

Dear friends,
The new year is already plodding along and I've not yet made a peep on my blog. It's hardly intentional, but rather an unfortunate side-effect of my current situation.

Over the holidays, you see, I invited a new person to share my life.  His name is WIP, short for Work In Progress.  It's a beautiful name, isn't it?   Mostly, I call him "Man," short for manuscript.  We're still

A Parting Letter to 2011

Dearest 2011,

Although I've now lived with you for exactly 365 days, I can't help but feel like I don't know you yet. A distance deepens between us as midnight trudges nearer, and I fear I welcome it. It's horrible to say, after dedicating so much of my life to you, but I believe we never truly connected.

It's not your fault. Really, it's me. No, really.

You see, I rushed into my relationship

Letters with no Reply - A REPLY!

Yesterday I posted a letter I had sent to Facebook.  My account was reactivated, I had my giggle, and I continued on my way.  But then, in an act of unprecedented customer service responsiveness, Facebook responded to me! 

I squeed when an e-mail popped up in my inbox from "The Facebook Team."  And this is what they said:

Hi Marie,
Thanks for verifying your identity. Note that we permanently

Letters with no Reply - Facebook

By far the longest set-up for a Letter with no Reply.  Isn't it exciting???

Somewhere between my Voices of Venus set, sending off Destiny's Fall to my editor, finishing a short story for an anthology and doing all the fun holidays prep, my brain blew up.  It really did.  In the past few days, I lost my lunch (I found it behind my door, under my coat.  It wasn't very good anymore, which made me

From Patchwork of Memories to Stories

Grandmothers

Today is my maternal grandmother's birthday.  Her name was Laurette Desjardins. She would have been 99 years old. Every year, my mom sends out an e-mail to me and my brother, reminding us that it's her birthday.

Every year, it leaves me nostalgic because I never really knew my grandmother.  She died when I was only two years old.  My memories of her are patchwork at best. Once, in

Zombies. Yargh.

I was recently gripped by a psychotic zombie reading spree. It started with distopic, post-apocalyptic futures ranging from human-eating plants to city-destroying sasquatches, and then eventually focused solely on zombies. Depersonalized apocalypse worked best for me, apparently.

I read pretty much every zombie book I could get my hands on, often reading one a day. With the last one I'm reading,

Odysseus: Finding my Inner Klingon

On June 16 2012, eighteen storytellers will gather at the National Arts Centre's Fourth Stage to bring listeners on a journey with Odysseus, from the fall of Troy to the shores of Ithaca.  The show is a collaboration between the Ottawa Storytellers and 2 women productions, and is artistically coordinated by Jan Andrews (one of Canada's most acclaimed storytellers) and Jennifer Cayley (ditto).

I

Writer Affirmation

With four published books under my belt and another coming out next year, I sometimes get caught in this nasty little cycle of thinking. It blocks my writing and makes me sad. It doesn't temper the words that tumble onto the page. Instead, it makes me fear them.

I've had my share of successes and failures. I'm afraid of neither, though I must admit to preferring successes.  With every book, I