Sarah Ettritch's Blog, page 11

Jury Duty in Toronto – Part 3

Today is the third and final part in my series about doing jury duty in Toronto. You can read the first two parts here: Part 1, Part 2.

In this post, I’ll tell you a bit about the trial and what happens when you’re on a jury. I won’t go into the specifics of the trial I participated in, except to say that it was a criminal trial regarding an armed robbery, the witnesses included a DNA expert, which was interesting, and we returned guilty verdicts on all counts. I can’t say anything at all about the jury deliberations, because it would be a criminal offense to do so. Our system differs significantly from the US system in that (and other) areas.

Each jury is assigned a jury constable and a room near the courtroom where the trial is taking place. You spend a lot of time in the jury room waiting to be called into court. When court isn’t in session, you’re not sequestered. You’re free to go anywhere for lunch, and you go home every night. The only time you might have to stay overnight is when you’re deliberating. Once a jury begins deliberations, nobody goes home until the verdicts are in. When you’re in the jury room, you’re locked in. You can knock on the door to call the jury constable.

Court convenes at 10 a.m. and adjourns at around 4:30 p.m. When you arrive at the courthouse, you go to a designated meeting spot in a public area. The court constable has to escort you to the jury room. In fact, he or she has to be with you whenever you’re not in a public area of the courthouse, and you always move as a group. This is to avoid the jury running into the accused. You get a morning and afternoon break, which you have to spend in the jury room. Refreshments are provided. If you have smokers on your jury, the jury constable will take them out for a quick fix (the only time the jury splits up while on break).

You have to avoid contact with everyone associated with the trial, except for your jury constable. You’re not allowed to use the elevators in the courthouse, because you could end up trapped in a confined space with a witness, or a family member of the accused. You’re also encouraged to leave the courthouse for lunch. There’s a cafeteria in the basement, but since the lawyers, family members, witnesses, etc. often use it, you’re told not to go there.

#87300719 / gettyimages.com

Now to the trial itself, which differed quite a lot from what I’ve seen on TV and in movies (not surprising, since Canada’s system differs from the US system). It’s possible that depending on the judge, the type of case (civil vs. criminal), and the lawyers involved, things might go differently in other trials. I can only comment on my experience. In point form:

-  the jury comes into court last, and everyone (including the judge and the accused) stands until the jury is seated. That’s different than what I’ve seen on TV, where the judge is the last to enter. The lawyers’ and judge’s robes and the steps the court registrar (Madame Registrar, in our case) had to follow sometimes gave the proceedings a theatrical air.

- when the jury is called into court, the jury constable knocks on the jury room door. You line up according to your jury number. When we entered the courtroom through the jury door, jury members 1-6 filed into the front row of the jury box, and 7-12 climbed a step and filed into the back row. Each juror always sits in the same seat. I was Juror #7, so I sat in the back row directly behind Juror #1. I was the farthest away from the witness box and the judge. I was close to the Crown and the spectators. In the courtroom I was in, the accused sat directly across from the jury.

- You’re provided with paper and pencils to take notes. When you leave the courtroom, you leave your notes on your chair. You only take them with you when you leave to start deliberating. When you’ve finished deliberating, you leave your notes in the jury room. They are destroyed.

- I didn’t see a gavel. The judge never used one.

- the judge was more active than I’d expected. He’d often take the time to address the jury regarding what we’d just heard and seen, he’d ask the lawyers questions, and he’d ask the witnesses questions.

- there was much less drama than what you see on TV (no surprise there). There’s no grandstanding, no dodgy questions meant to plant ideas in the jury’s heads and that are then quickly withdrawn. No grandiose speeches or demonstrations. In fact, the Crown (prosecution) and the defence lawyers are respectful to each other and ask intelligent questions. I didn’t hear the words objection, sustained, or overruled once.

- if there’s any contention at all between the lawyers, or any other issue, the jury is removed from the court. On some days we were in and out several times. It wasn’t like on TV, where the lawyers approach the bench and discuss a point of contention while the jury is sitting there. The moment there was an issue, out went the jury.

So how was the jury experience? Interesting, humbling, and bizarre. For almost two weeks, I spent every weekday in the company of the same eleven people and away from my usual life. We underwent an intense experience together that led to a joint decision that affected the lives’ of others in a significant way. Then we waved good-bye to each other and will likely never cross paths again. I don’t know how the others felt, but the day after we were done, I thought, “WTF just happened?” Then I got back into my regular routine, and my days at the courthouse have faded away.

That’s it for jury duty. Next week, it’s back to the usual. I’m close, oh, so close, to finishing the first draft of Deiform Three (which I haven’t titled yet). If I don’t finish it next week, I’ll be done early the following week. That means I’ll start talking about it and posting some short excerpts.

Have a great weekend!

Jury Duty in Toronto – Part 3 is a post from: Sarah Ettritch

Jury Duty in Toronto – Part 2

Last week I told you about what it’s like to sit around in the jury panel room, waiting for something to happen. I ended the post with my panel being called for jury selection. This week, I’ll describe what happens during that phase.

Before I do, I just have to mention that Ontario made history yesterday. It now has its first elected female premier, and its first openly-lesbian premier. Kathleen Wynne had been the premier of Ontario (for those outside Canada, premier is similar to a state governor) for around 17 months, but she wasn’t elected. The previous premier resigned, and the Liberal Party chose Wynne to take his place.

Yesterday, Ontarians chose her. The best part: her sexual orientation was a non-issue during the election campaign. Read about it, see her up on stage with her partner, and watch her full victory speech here.

Back to jury duty: Okay, so my panel is called for jury selection. I read on other blogs that the panel moved to a smaller room on another floor. We went straight into a courtroom. So where you go apparently depends on whether you’re needed immediately or shortly.

Before this experience, I’d never sat in on a trial, so I had all sorts of preconceived notions from what I’d seen on TV—and mainly on US shows. I thought the jury was selected before the trial began. Jury selection actually takes place during the trial. When we were called out of the jury panel room, we went to an upper floor and directly into a courtroom. The judge, the court registrar, the court reporter, the Crown (what Canadians call the prosecutor), the defence counsel, and the accused were already present. The judge decided he wanted more prospective jurors, so the blue panel was also summoned. We waited for them to arrive.

Once everyone was seated, the charges were read, and the accused (two of them for this case) entered their pleas. Not Guilty. All right, then, the trial will continue, so we need a jury. I’d estimate that there were around 180 prospective jurors, and we only needed 12. Should be quick and easy to choose a jury, right?

Wrong.

Before jury selection began, we were told how long the trial was expected to last (two weeks), and then another round of people asking to be excused began. Remember, back in the jury panel room, people had been asked if they couldn’t stay that week. People who had appointments the following week, or who couldn’t afford two weeks without pay (in Ontario, you don’t get paid for jury duty for the first 10 days), could now plead their case. Also, now there was the issue of whether anyone knew the accused, the lawyers, any of the witnesses that would be called (they read us a list), or had relatives in the police force.

By the time the judge called for people who fit into those categories, it was a little after noon. It took until around 3:00 to go through everyone who wanted to be excused (we did break an hour for lunch).

I was quite surprised that people who wanted to be excused for a medical reason had to tell the entire court about it. They had to approach the bench and speak into a microphone. Privacy is a hot issue these days, and I was floored that people were expected to go up and reveal private medical details in front of a bunch of strangers. I understand that the judge, the lawyers, and the accused have a right to hear why someone doesn’t want to sit on a jury, but why not dismiss everyone else from the courtroom when the judge calls for those who want to be excused for medical reasons?

All right, so just after 3:00, we’re ready to select jurors. The judge explained the procedure to us. After he was finished, I turned to my neighbour and raised my brows, and he did the same. In other words, “Say, what?” It sounded horribly complicated, but in practice, it was straightforward. Rather than cause you the confusion we felt, I won’t try to explain it to you. I’ll just tell you what happens.

Remember those scraps of paper with our details that I mentioned in the last post? Well, those scraps of paper are now in a wooden drum that’s in front of the court registrar.  Here we go:

1. The court registrar (female in our case) reaches into the drum, draws out a slip of paper, and calls out that person’s jury panel number, name, and area of residence (for example, East York, North York, etc.) That person goes to the front of the courtroom. They won’t be a juror. They’ll be a temporary trier. Let’s call him Joe. Joe is asked if he wants to swear or affirm that he’ll execute the duties of a trier to the best of his ability. If he wants to swear, he then chooses from a selection of religious texts, and he holds the selected text in his right hand. If he wants to affirm, he raises his right hand. The registrar reads him the same text either way, except she’ll use “swear” or “affirm,” depending, and she’ll end with “I affirm,” or, “so help me God,” or  “so help me [other god/goddess].” Joe now sits in the jury box.

2. The registrar draws a second name. That person will be the second temporary trier. Let’s call her Sally. Sally is sworn/affirmed and sits in the jury box.

3. The registrar now draws the name of the first potential juror. Let’s call her Sue. Sue comes forward and goes into the witness box. Sue swears/affirms to truthfully answer the question she’s about to be asked. The question has been agreed upon by the judge, the Crown, and the two defence lawyers (each accused had his own lawyer).

4. The lawyers take turns posing the question, which in our trial, was about whether the potential juror will be impartial given the race of one of the accused. So, whoever’s turn it is reads the question, and Sue answers it.

5. The two triers confer and say, “Acceptable,” or, “Unacceptable.” If unacceptable, Sue is excused.

Everything up to this point is optional, because there doesn’t have to be a question. If the lawyers don’t want to pose a question to screen prospective jurors, there are no triers. When your name is called, you’ll go straight to step 6.

6. If acceptable, Sue is then asked to step out of the witness box and move closer to where the accused and their lawyers are standing. The registrar says something like, “Juror, look upon the accused. Accused, look upon the juror. What say you?”

7. Starting with the Crown, each lawyer says, “Content,” or “Challenge.” If content, then the lawyer would accept Sue as a member of the jury. If challenge, the lawyer does not want Sue on the jury and she’s excused. Each lawyer gets a specific number of challenges, as spelled out in Canada’s criminal code.

8. If all the lawyers are content, Sue is told to face the registrar, and she’s now sworn/affirmed as a jury member. She becomes Juror #1. She replaces Joe, the first temporary trier, in the jury box. Joe is now excused. Sally and Sue are now the triers. Sue now swears/affirms that she’ll exercise her responsibilities as a trier to the best of her ability etc.

9. Rinse and repeat. The second juror chosen will be Juror #2 and replace Sally as a trier. The third juror chosen will become Juror #3 and replace Juror #1 as a trier. Juror #1 will now move to her proper place in the jury box. Juror #4 will replace Juror #2 as a trier, and Juror #2 will move to his proper place in the jury box. We continue this dance until we have 12 jurors.

Therefore, how long it takes to choose a jury will depend on how many “unacceptables” and “challenges” there are. In our case, there were a lot of challenges. As the afternoon progressed, the groans grew louder with each challenge.

By 4:20, they’d selected six jurors. Court usually adjourns at 4:30. I was slumped in the back row, ready to go home, and thinking, “Great, we’ll all have to haul our asses back here tomorrow, but they should finish selecting the jury by 11:00, and then I’ll be done. Yay!”

At that point, the registrar reached into the drum and pulled out a slip of paper. Guess whose number she called?

I couldn’t believe it. In fact, when you hear your number called, it’s a good job they also call your name, because your brain goes into OMFG mode. Freaking inside, you somehow manage to walk to the front of the courtroom, get into the witness box, swear/affirm that you’ll answer the question honestly, and then do so. But you’re on automatic.

Now, right before I was called, the lawyers had challenged a whole bunch of people in a row. I figured my chances of being challenged were pretty darn good. So when the registrar told me to face the accused etc., I fully expected to hear “challenge.” Instead, I heard, “Content. Content. Content.” And I thought, “Are you freaking kidding me?”

In a daze, I turned to face the registrar, swore/affirmed to execute my responsibilities as a juror to the best of my ability etc., and as Juror #7, took my place next to Juror #6 as the newest trier. Then the judge said, “It’s 4:25. Let’s adjourn for the day.” And I thought, “OMG, if only he’d done that five minutes ago.”

On the way home, still dazed, I thought about who they’d challenged and who they hadn’t. I concluded that they wanted a young to middle-aged jury (they challenged everyone who was retired or had gray hair), with no Asians on it. I deduced (correctly, as it turned out) that the victims of the crime must be Asian.

I think I was the oldest person on the jury. Maybe my hoodie, jeans, sneakers, my thick head of hair that has only a sprinkling of gray, and the knapsack slung over my shoulder, made me appear younger than I am. Who knows?

The next morning, we resumed where we’d left off, except this time I entered the courtroom through the jury door with the other six jurors. We started at 10:00, and it took until almost 11:30 to choose the other five jurors. One lawyer ran out of challenges. Based on what I’d concluded, I could predict pretty reliably who they’d challenge, but a couple of challenges did puzzle me.

When we were done, the judge dismissed those who hadn’t been selected. The registrar then called out each juror number in turn, to confirm that everyone on the jury had been sworn/affirmed. When she called your number, you had to say, “Sworn,” if you’d chosen to swear, and “Affirmed,” if you’d chosen to affirm. She then read the number who’d been sworn (7) and affirmed (5) into the record—a balanced jury from that point of view.

After that:  bam! The judge started to give his opening statement. Poor Juror #12 hardly had time to catch her breath. After lunch, she told me she was still in a daze. I said, “That’s how I felt last night.” At least Jurors #1-7 had an evening to get used to the idea.

Remember I said things weren’t computerized? Well, when the judge excused people before jury selection started, their slip of paper remained in the drum. It wasn’t unusual for the registrar to call a number, get no response, and then wait for the lawyers and judge to shuffle through their papers and check whether that person had been excused, which prolonged the process. If everything was electronic and the summons had a barcode, a computer could randomly pick people, rather than the registrar, and when someone was excused, their summons could be scanned and they’d be removed from the pool. Will it ever happen?

Next week I’ll tell you in general terms a bit about the trial and how it differed from what I’ve seen on TV.

Enjoy your weekend! 

Jury Duty in Toronto – Part 2 is a post from: Sarah Ettritch

Jury Duty in Toronto

I completed my jury duty on Tuesday, and I thought I’d give you the scoop about what happens when you report for the week. When I received my summons, the first thing I did was search for “jury duty in Toronto,” so I could get an idea of what to expect. Most of the blog posts I found were several years old. I’m writing this one in June, 2014.

A few months before I received my summons, a form arrived in the mail from the sheriff (which made me snicker, because I imagined someone with a Stetson on their head and two revolvers at their hip). As required by law, I answered the questions that were asked to determine my eligibility for jury duty, stuck the form in the mail, and forgot about it. When my summons arrived from the sheriff, I thought, “Uh oh.” Then I snickered.

In Toronto, they summon a new group of people each week. Being summoned for jury duty doesn’t mean you’ll sit on a jury. It means you’ll be in the pool of people from which they’ll select jurors for cases that will start during that week.

You report for jury duty on a Monday, unless that’s a holiday, which happened in my case. I was summoned to show up on May 20, the day after Victoria Day. I had to be there at 8:30 a.m. There’s only one entrance into the courthouse, and you have to go through security (you pass through a metal detector, and bags, pocket contents, etc. go through an X-ray machine). I couldn’t help but think of Jillian in the opening scene of The Cult. It was deja vu through the eyes of one of my favourite characters. Fortunately, when I left the courthouse for lunch, nothing as dramatic took place outside as what happened in The Cult.

Once inside, I reported to the jury room and lined up again. When I got nearer to the front of the line, my mouth dropped open. Nothing is computerized. When it’s finally your turn, you hand over your summons, and the jury constable looks you up in a binder and marks a dot in one of the five boxes next to your name. Yikes.

Everyone summoned for a given week is divided into four panels: blue, red, green, and purple. You find out which panel you’re in when you check in, and you have to sit in your panel’s designated area, in a large room in which you’ll spend many hours to come. I was in the red panel. I sat at a table with five other people and watched the room fill up.

At about 9:15, we were shown a video about how important jury duty is. It was typical government sappy-happy stuff. After that, the guy in charge for the week talked for around 20 minutes about the rules. Then he asked those who couldn’t stay to raise their hands. About a third of the room did so.

There are three reasons you can be dismissed for the week:

1. You have a chronic medical condition

2. It’s bad timing (vacation scheduled, important appointment), so you want to defer to another week. But…you have to choose, right there and then, which week you’ll show up instead. You can’t just say, “Not this week,” and then leave. So if you’re thinking of scheduling something during the week you’ve been summoned as a way of getting out of jury duty, it won’t work. All you’ll do is delay the inevitable.

3. I’ve forgotten. It might have been that you don’t understand English well, but I could be remembering wrong.

All right, so while those who want to be dismissed are filling out the appropriate forms, the rest of us start waiting. And waiting. And waiting. You can chat, read, use your tablet or laptop (there’s free Wi-Fi), knit, do anything that won’t disturb the people around you. There are games and puzzles in the room, but I didn’t see anyone use them. There’s a snack bar off the jury room that offers tea, coffee, and a small selection of snacks. Bathrooms are also off the jury room.

If you leave the room, you have to leave your summons with the staff, and you can only leave for 10-15 minutes. You’ll generally break for lunch anywhere between noon to 1:00. You have to be back by 2:00-2:15.

Remember I said nothing is digital? You have to check in again when you come back from lunch. When you do so, they move a scrap of paper with your details on it from one pile to another. Why don’t they include a barcode on your summons, and then have the staff scan the barcode to check you in and out? Of course, the staff would have tablets or laptops, rather than a binder of paper. Seriously, we’re in 2014, here.

#188075024 / gettyimages.com

The first day I was there, the green panel was called out for jury selection. Also, people were asked to volunteer for a coroner’s inquest that would take place in June. They wanted about 15 people for a constable to interview the next day. Those who volunteered were let go for the day. It sounded interesting, but I didn’t want to commit to anything in June. I was hoping to be done by the end of the week.

The rest of us were let go around 3:45. We were getting restless around 3:00, because we were told that court usually ends at 4:30, and we figured they must know by 3:00 whether they’d need to call another panel for jury selection.

This leads into: there must be a better way. That’s what we all kept muttering to ourselves. There must be a better way to select juries, than to have a large group of people show up and twiddle their thumbs for up to a week. I understand that they can’t reliably predict when exactly trials will start, but surely they can have a rough idea by each Monday/Tuesday.

One woman who’d previously been summoned when she lived in Barrie said that they had to go for three consecutive Mondays. They’d choose all the juries they needed for the week, and those who weren’t chosen were then let go until the following Monday. Toronto is a larger courthouse with more going on, but still.

Also, when I was searching for jury duty experiences, I came across a comment by an Australian who was surprised that we all have to physically traipse down to a courthouse and sit on our asses. He said that when he did jury duty, they didn’t have to show up unless they were called the night before and told they were needed. So all they had to do was make sure they were available during that week, just in case.

Okay, so when we were let go on Tuesday (the first day for us, since it was a holiday weekend week), we were told to show up the next day at 9:30 (you only have to show up at 8:30 on the first day). We all did so. Nothing happened. We spent the day sitting on our bums. Lots of grumbling.

On Thursday morning, no movement again. When lunchtime was approaching, I thought, “Nothing’s happening. There’s a good chance we’ll be dismissed for the week.” They say you have to show up for the entire week, but in practice, most of the time the group is dismissed Thursday or Friday (sometimes even Tuesday or Wednesday!), because they’ve determined that no more jury selections will take place that week.

So, I’m feeling optimistic that the hours of reading and chatting are coming to an end, and I’ll have done my duty.

Not so fast.

About 11:30, my panel (red) and the purple panel were called for jury selection. Next Friday, I’ll tell you what happens during that phase.

If you’re here because you’ve been summoned and want to know what it will be like, my advice is to take something to do. Depending on the week, you could be called in and out for jury selection, or you could spend hours amusing yourself. If you like to read, check out my books. You can read one while you’re doing your civic duty.

Also, sit in the back of the room, near the windows. The A/C or heat, depending, is stronger there. On the first morning, I sat in the front of the room, and man, it was hot! After lunch, I moved to the back of the room, and it was much cooler. A woman nearby said that it was her second time there, and she’d remembered from the last time to sit near the windows.

Oh, and hang on to your summons. Once you’ve completed your jury duty, they can’t summon you for three years, but according to the staff, sometimes they do. So keep that piece of paper!

Later.

P.S. I’m also up at Canadian Lesfic today. Pop over there to read Fasten Your Seatbelt.

Jury Duty in Toronto is a post from: Sarah Ettritch

An Unscheduled Timeout from Life

I don’t usually post on a Saturday, and this will be short and sweet. A few weeks ago, I mentioned that posting to the blog could be spotty in May. In that post, I said:

I’ve also been summoned for jury duty. I could be dismissed after a day or two, or I could spend an entire week at the courthouse.

Dumbo here didn’t account for the third option: “I might be put on a jury.” Guess what happened? Yep.

The case I’m on should conclude sometime this week. Assuming we don’t take days to come up with verdicts, I’ll post more about it this coming Friday.

Fortunately I’d built in a healthy buffer when I scheduled the editing date for Deiform Three, but I’m behind on just about everything else. Sitting on a jury is an interesting experience, though.

Also, I’ve closed the poll I posted a couple of weeks ago about what book to discuss on the Liz McMullen Show. The Salbine Sisters and Threaded Through Time tied for first. I’ve decided to go with Threaded Through Time.

Hope you’re having a great weekend!

An Unscheduled Timeout from Life is a post from: Sarah Ettritch

The Liz McMullen Show

I’ll be on the Liz McMullen show in September, and I have to choose a book for Liz to read. I asked her what sorts of stories she likes, since my books aren’t typical romances. She said she’s open to anything. In other words, she’s left it up to me.

I have my own thoughts about which book to give her, but I’d like to hear what book you’d choose. Whatever she reads will be the focus of our discussion.

Here’s a handy-dandy poll, so you can vote anonymously.

Take Our Poll

 

If you don’t like voting in polls, feel free to leave a comment instead.

Enjoy your weekend!

The Liz McMullen Show is a post from: Sarah Ettritch

Book Sampler, Box Sets, and Pricing

It finally feels like spring, and I finally have time to get back to writing-related activities.

Book Sampler

I’ve put together a sampler of my books. You can download samples at the bookstores, but they usually cut off mid-chapter. In my sampler, I’ve included the first three chapters of Threaded Through Time, The Missing Comatose Woman, Rymellan 1: Disobedience Means Death, and The Salbine Sisters. The sampler also contains the first four chapters of The Atheist.

The samples are longer than the bookstore samples, so it’s a great way to try out my books. You can download the sampler here.

Box Sets

I’ve been thinking about putting together a box set for the Rymellan Series. If you’re not familiar with box sets, they usually include several books from the same series, or in the same genre (in the case of multi-author sets). Buying the box set is usually cheaper than buying each book in the set separately.

Unfortunately, some bookstores, including Amazon, penalize authors who price an eBook greater than $9.99, and the penalty is hefty–the royalty on each sale is cut in half. They do this to keep the prices low, but the policy doesn’t take an eBook’s length into account.

The same problem occurs at the lower end of the scale. Price an eBook lower than $2.99, and there goes half the royalty. That’s why you’ll often see short stories priced at $2.99. Readers bitch and sometimes blame authors and publishers, but the bookstore’s policy is the problem.

Since I’d want to price the Rymellan box set higher than $9.99, it wouldn’t be available at Amazon or any other bookstores that have punitive pricing policies. There have been whispers that Amazon might change its tune on this point, which would be great. I don’t think it considered box sets and short fiction when it put the policy into place.

What do you think about box sets? Do you see them as bargains? If you’re considering a new author, would you take a chance on a box set, or would you rather just try one book, to see if you like it?

Facebook

Facebook has recently changed the way it handles posts on Facebook pages. Let’s say you like a page. You used to see everything (or most items) the page admin posted, but that’s no longer the case. Facebook wants page owners to pay for visibility. People who spent a lot of time (and perhaps money) building an audience on Facebook are now finding that unless they pay-to-play, their posts are seen by less than 5% of their fans.

When I like a page, I’m saying that I want to be kept up to date with what’s going on with the company/person/group/whatever. But unless the page owners are willing to pay to reach me, liking pages is no longer an effective way to follow what interests me.

I’m also a page owner. When I post to my page, hardly anyone sees it. For that reason, I suggest that if you want to follow me on Facebook, you friend me. I used to avoid talking about my writing and books on my personal profile, but I’ve had to change that. I’m trying out lists. I’ve created a Writer/Reader list, and I’ll occasionally post about writing and my books to people on the list.

You can friend me here (or go onto Facebook and search for me–I’m the only Sarah Ettritch). Be warned that I like to post funny cat videos, and I’m also a sucker for animal rescue videos. I’ll still post to my page, but the chances of you seeing those posts aren’t good. Some authors have already given up on their Facebook pages.

Have a great weekend!

Book Sampler, Box Sets, and Pricing is a post from: Sarah Ettritch

Start That F*cker With a Bang

It’s my turn to blog at Canadian Lesfic today, so even though I’m still up to my eyeballs with homework, I managed to hammer something out. A couple of things before I direct you over there:

I’ve scheduled an editing date for Deiform Three, which is coming along nicely. I haven’t finished the first draft, but I can see my way to the end. It’ll go to my editor in late September, so I hope to have it out in late November/early December.

My business program ends next week. There’s additional material after that, but it’s self-paced, so I’ll be able to breathe again. Having said that, blogging here will still be sketchy in May. I might miss a Friday or two. I’m going to visit my parents, who I haven’t seen for over a year. That’s unusual and unfortunate, and illustrates just how freaking busy I’ve been.

I’ve also been summoned for jury duty. I could be dismissed after a day or two, or I could spend an entire week at the courthouse. I hear it’s a lot of waiting, and waiting, and waiting. I’m going to load up my Kindle and people watch (I suspect the experience will be fertile ground for story ideas). Whether I can blog that week will depend on how things go.

Things should return to normal in June.

Okay, over to Canadian Lesfic: Start That F*cker With a Bang.

Have a great weekend!

Start That F*cker With a Bang is a post from: Sarah Ettritch

Sanitary Napkins, Forgiveness, and More

I’m on week five of my 8-week business program, and to say that I’m busy would be an understatement. I’m swamped! As I suspected, I haven’t been able to post every Friday, and today’s post will point you to some interesting articles I bookmarked before things got crazy.

The Indian Sanitary Pad Revolution – I’m amazed at Muruganantham’s persistence, especially since there would be no direct benefit to him. Of course, there were indirect benefits, as there always are when we do something for others.

He used a machete to cut off her hand and kill her baby – An amazing story about forgiveness. I don’t know if I could do the same.

Cats and Bad Jumps – Funny!

Sapphica Books – Kate Genet recently added my books to Sapphica Books, which showcases lesbian fiction by indie authors.

Back to the grindstone. Have a great weekend!

Sanitary Napkins, Forgiveness, and More is a post from: Sarah Ettritch

Why Does God Allow Suffering?

In my first post of the year, I said, “…I’m also going to loosen up a bit and talk about interesting stuff I’ve come across on the Net, or whatever happens to be on my mind.” This is a “whatever happens to be on my mind” post.

Why has the question “Why does God allow suffering?” occupied some of my mind-space this week?

1. Earlier in the week, I wrote a conversation between Jillian and Sam, two characters in the Deiform Fellowship Series, that touches on this topic (before they quickly go off on a tangent).

2. I’m reading On Guard, a book by Christian apologist William Lane Craig. In the book, he addresses the “Why does God allow suffering?” question.

3. Henry, one of our cats, had a cyst removed from her neck yesterday.

Context is Everything

Let me frame the proper context for my thoughts. The question, “Why does God allow suffering?” can be answered with, “Because God isn’t good.” Or…because God created the world and everything in it, and then moved on to something else. He doesn’t care about our world or us anymore.

We’re done here. Or are we?

When people ask, “Why does God allow suffering?” they usually mean, “Why does a loving, good God who is interested in the world and our lives allow suffering?” But that would have been too long for the post title. It is, however, the context for my thoughts.

Of course, if God doesn’t exist, then answering the question is merely an intellectual exercise. Nonetheless, it’s still an interesting question to ponder, and many atheist philosophers and theologians do just that (of course, theists do, too!).

What I’m going to say isn’t THE answer, because THE answer doesn’t exist. I’m going to share some of my thoughts on the matter. Treat them as thinking points. They might spark a different answer for you, or open up new possibilities, or make you think about the question in a way you haven’t before.

My Thoughts

A little while ago, we noticed that Henry had a lump on the back of her neck. At first we thought maybe one of our other cats had scratched her and her neck was swollen, so we decided to keep our eye on it. It didn’t go away, and occasionally it bled, so we took her to the vet last weekend. Apparently it’s not uncommon for cats to develop cysts when they get older, and that’s what the vet suspected. They can’t just drain the cyst, they have to remove an epithelial lining while the cat is sedated (or under), drain the cyst, and then stitch the cat up—a minor surgical procedure.

When our cats have to go to the vet for a procedure, my partner usually drops the lucky victim off on the way to work. The vets do the procedure in the afternoon, and we pick up the dopey cat in the evening. So yesterday morning, I plunked a struggling Henry into a cat carrier and whisked her to the front door. As I listened to her frantic meowing and her wide eyes pleaded with me, I wished I could explain to her why it was a good thing that she was going to have a day from hell.

Think about it from Henry’s point of view: she has no clue what the hell is going on. She’s plucked from her comfortable cat bed (which is right next to one of the heat registers, of course). She’s trapped in a carrier and driven to a strange place, with all its unfamiliar smells and sounds (including barking dogs!). She’s handled by people she doesn’t know and locked in a cage. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever return to her familiar and safe environment again. At some point, she’s removed from the cage and placed onto a steel table. She’s surrounded by strange people. She has a needle stuck into her. She’s shaved. They do stuff to her (she had a local anesthetic and pain killer, so she was awake for the procedure). She’s terrified.

And it’s all for her benefit.

I, the almighty one, who had all the information and understood why she was going through hell; in fact, I’d deliberately subjected her to it because I knew it would benefit her…I was affected, too. I didn’t write. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to focus. Yes, it was a minor procedure, but I knew Henry was frightened and having a rotten day. I wished I could have told her that she’d be coming home to love and kisses and, more importantly to her, treats! I stuck to activities that didn’t require much brain power, like listening to podcasts. I thought of her often. I was with her in spirit. I was rooting for her. I also had a headache.

The vet called around 2:30 to let me know that everything had gone well. My headache was gone by five.

Henry: When I get home from the vet, I am *so* peeing on the carpet.

This led to me thinking about Hickory, our diabetic cat. She was diagnosed in January 2012, and she’s still going strong. That means I’ve given her 365 x 2 (I’m rounding it to two years, even though it’s been two years and two months now) x 2 needles, give or take. That’s 1,460 needles. Over the past 26 months, I’ve jabbed my cat 1,460 times. I’d love to explain to her that without those 1,460 needles, she’d be dead, not sitting on the window sill cushion watching the birds emerge after a long winter, or dozing on her favourite chair in the living room, or catching the sun in our bedroom in the afternoons.

Senseless Suffering

What about senseless suffering? Isn’t that what really punches us in the gut? The person who is stricken with cancer, suffers through chemotherapy, and dies. Someone is gunned down on the street for $5 and their loved ones go through hell. Sexual abuse. Bullying. I’m sure today’s news will deliver more examples.

Some thoughts on this:

1. A person might suffer to benefit others.

2. If this life isn’t it, then a person’s suffering might benefit them after this life.

3. Suffering furthers God’s purpose, which if we’re talking about a good God, we’ll assume is good.

One more note: When writing, it’s difficult to make characters suffer, even when I know things will turn out for them, or they’ll grow or learn something from the experience. It doesn’t matter. It’s still hard. I suffer with them, and I’m talking about made-up people, here.

Last thought: Suffering sucks, even when you understand the why.

Conclusion

Those are some of my thoughts about why (a loving, good) God allows suffering. I have more, but I’ve stuck to those I’ve pondered about this past week. I’ll have more to say about William Lane Craig’s book in an upcoming post, and when Deiform Three is released, you’ll be able to read about what Jillian and Sam have to say on the subject (though, as I mentioned, they quickly start to go at each other over something else).

People have proposed all sorts of reasons for why God allows suffering. What do you think?

Enjoy your weekend!

Why Does God Allow Suffering? is a post from: Sarah Ettritch

Self-Publishing in Canada over at Canadian Lesfic

As I mentioned last week, it’s my turn to post at Canadian Lesfic today. I decided to write something that will benefit Canadian and other non-US lesbian fiction authors who are thinking about self-publishing their work. If it doesn’t interest you, head over and vote in the poll, anyway.

Of course, I’ll add a little more here for you. I came across this article earlier in the week. If there was ever anything that will remind us not to judge by appearances, this is it!

Wow – appearances can be deceiving!

See you next week. 

Self-Publishing in Canada over at Canadian Lesfic is a post from: Sarah Ettritch