Beth Kaplan's Blog, page 229
November 19, 2014
Benedict and Jon get married
BIG snowstorm - I gather the entire Eastern seaboard is inundated. Light is fading and snow is pelting down. Time to pour a glass or six of wine, turn up the heat, put on the big old fluffy slippers and give thanks to almighty God that I don't have to commute in a cold, dark storm. Thank you, almighty God.
For those who didn't catch the Daily Show last night, the divine Benedict Cumberbatch was on with the divine Jon Stewart. I overheated - two of my favourite men on the planet, sitting across from each other. Jon was like a schoolgirl with a crush; he asked Benedict to marry him, but BC said, "You're a bit late." He just got married to some incredible woman, like George Clooney's wife, beautiful, accomplished, brilliant etc. etc.
As are we all.
Sigh.
Still, it's amazing that this man is such a star - he's not particularly good looking, he's cerebral and eccentric and almost all his roles are about strange men doing strange things. And yet he's elegant, sexy, extremely clever, and utterly appealing. I'd ask him to marry me too.
Well no actually, I wouldn't. But I'd love to have dinner with him - and Jon - on a regular basis. Once a month, say, along with a few other favourite delicious men, including Macca. Be still my beating heart.
Oh grow up. Time to practice the piano. That will keep me warm, as warm as my fantasies. Though this, below, makes me cold. Have I mentioned how much I hate him?
Yes. Bring it back.
P.S. Something to look forward to - I just bought a ticket to "Let it be: a celebration of the music of the Beatles" on Valentine's Day 2015 at the Sony Centre. A concert of very good musicianship, apparently. Not the real thing, as some of us were lucky enough to see in 1965 and 1966. But great comfort in the middle of winter. Three months from now. Sigh.
For those who didn't catch the Daily Show last night, the divine Benedict Cumberbatch was on with the divine Jon Stewart. I overheated - two of my favourite men on the planet, sitting across from each other. Jon was like a schoolgirl with a crush; he asked Benedict to marry him, but BC said, "You're a bit late." He just got married to some incredible woman, like George Clooney's wife, beautiful, accomplished, brilliant etc. etc.
As are we all.
Sigh.
Still, it's amazing that this man is such a star - he's not particularly good looking, he's cerebral and eccentric and almost all his roles are about strange men doing strange things. And yet he's elegant, sexy, extremely clever, and utterly appealing. I'd ask him to marry me too.
Well no actually, I wouldn't. But I'd love to have dinner with him - and Jon - on a regular basis. Once a month, say, along with a few other favourite delicious men, including Macca. Be still my beating heart.
Oh grow up. Time to practice the piano. That will keep me warm, as warm as my fantasies. Though this, below, makes me cold. Have I mentioned how much I hate him?
Yes. Bring it back. P.S. Something to look forward to - I just bought a ticket to "Let it be: a celebration of the music of the Beatles" on Valentine's Day 2015 at the Sony Centre. A concert of very good musicianship, apparently. Not the real thing, as some of us were lucky enough to see in 1965 and 1966. But great comfort in the middle of winter. Three months from now. Sigh.
November 18, 2014
cold, guilt, perversion
Holy shit, it's cold. Crazy me, I saw it was sunny and decided to ride my bike to U of T. Much bundling, including three layers of mitts, and still I nearly froze to death. Found out later the temperature was minus 5, but with the windchill, minus 20. Minus 20, on Nov. 18. And there she was, folks, pedalling away, her feet numb, her hands numb, her face and head shrouded in whatever scarfing material came to hand ... And then my back brake cable froze and I only had one brake.
Lesson: sun is good for biking. Minus twenty not good.
Why is it so @# cold in mid-November? Winter doesn't even begin for four more weeks! I do not remember this, ever. Scary. Luckily the class was wonderful and I was energized and warmed by stories before the trek home.
Much debate from my francophone group on the innocence/culpability of Edward Snowden. Jack (on the right, anti-Snowden) says Snowden's careless revelations are directly responsible for the deaths of several Mossad agents and probably many others. Jacqueline (on the left, pro-Snowden) is concerned with the threat to us all from our mad search to protect ourselves from enemies - what is lost when we jettison civil liberties? Interesting issues. Laura Poitras, director of the documentary Citizen Four in praise of Snowden, was on the Daily Show last night; an admiring Jon did not ask her about Mossad agents, though he did point out the irony that Snowden, because of his protest against the invasiveness of the American government, is now living in Russia, one of the most invasive governments on earth.
Another controversial topic: now, thanks to Jian, that sexual abuse and S and M are much in the news, I was interested to read a review in the New Yorker of Alain Robbe-Grillet's last work A Sentimental Novel, published just before he died. One of the most renowned French authors, Robbe-Grillet has written a hideously violent porno fantasy based, he says, on his adolescent journals, about the horrible torture and abuse of young girls. Is this a rock we have just overturned in our society - men who fantasize about abusing or who actually abuse very young women and think it's okay? Ghastly. Nightmarish.
BUT - the good news - Keystone XL was just defeated in the Senate - though it's shocking to read on-line:
Canada disappointed by U.S. decision delayCanada expressed disappointment that U.S. politics continued to delay a final decision, Minister of Natural Resources Greg Rickford said in a statement.
What Canada? Not my Canada. You may not have noticed, dear blog-readers, but I am distraught that the loathsome Harper and his minions in Ottawa pretend to speak for me. And you. Canada disappointed indeed. @#$# you.
Sorry. What an uncharacteristic display of petty anger. And I, usually so serene.
Today, an album of Macca's music sung by others was released and will, I hope, be under our Xmas tree with my name on it. David Sedaris is going to be on Finding Your Roots on PBS at 8. There is pleasure. Even when out there, in the bitterly cold world, rocks are being irrevocably overturned and God knows what is crawling out.
Lesson: sun is good for biking. Minus twenty not good.
Why is it so @# cold in mid-November? Winter doesn't even begin for four more weeks! I do not remember this, ever. Scary. Luckily the class was wonderful and I was energized and warmed by stories before the trek home.
Much debate from my francophone group on the innocence/culpability of Edward Snowden. Jack (on the right, anti-Snowden) says Snowden's careless revelations are directly responsible for the deaths of several Mossad agents and probably many others. Jacqueline (on the left, pro-Snowden) is concerned with the threat to us all from our mad search to protect ourselves from enemies - what is lost when we jettison civil liberties? Interesting issues. Laura Poitras, director of the documentary Citizen Four in praise of Snowden, was on the Daily Show last night; an admiring Jon did not ask her about Mossad agents, though he did point out the irony that Snowden, because of his protest against the invasiveness of the American government, is now living in Russia, one of the most invasive governments on earth.
Another controversial topic: now, thanks to Jian, that sexual abuse and S and M are much in the news, I was interested to read a review in the New Yorker of Alain Robbe-Grillet's last work A Sentimental Novel, published just before he died. One of the most renowned French authors, Robbe-Grillet has written a hideously violent porno fantasy based, he says, on his adolescent journals, about the horrible torture and abuse of young girls. Is this a rock we have just overturned in our society - men who fantasize about abusing or who actually abuse very young women and think it's okay? Ghastly. Nightmarish.
BUT - the good news - Keystone XL was just defeated in the Senate - though it's shocking to read on-line:
Canada disappointed by U.S. decision delayCanada expressed disappointment that U.S. politics continued to delay a final decision, Minister of Natural Resources Greg Rickford said in a statement.
What Canada? Not my Canada. You may not have noticed, dear blog-readers, but I am distraught that the loathsome Harper and his minions in Ottawa pretend to speak for me. And you. Canada disappointed indeed. @#$# you.
Sorry. What an uncharacteristic display of petty anger. And I, usually so serene.
Today, an album of Macca's music sung by others was released and will, I hope, be under our Xmas tree with my name on it. David Sedaris is going to be on Finding Your Roots on PBS at 8. There is pleasure. Even when out there, in the bitterly cold world, rocks are being irrevocably overturned and God knows what is crawling out.
November 16, 2014
avoiding Santa
Today I rode my bike all over town, even though it was snowing. But the Santa Claus Parade had taken over the city, impossible to get anywhere on four wheels. Eminently possible on two.
I rode first to Inspire, Toronto's new book fair. On the way - this was at 9.45 a.m. - I passed people already sitting by the curb downtown in the falling snow. Grownups with no children, even! How have I managed to avoid the Santa Claus Parade all these years? Anna was there today with Eli and some of his cousins, all bundled up. He fell asleep before Santa appeared, she told me.
My friend Kerry Clare, whose blog Pickle Me This appears on this page, was at the book fair with her website 49th Shelf, and she and I met for the first time, though we feel we know each other well from our mutual blogs. Kerry describes the event beautifully in her current blog post called Inspire, so I won't reiterate. It's a terrific event put on by Rita Davies; brava to her and her colleagues - beautifully organized, restful, thoughtful, fun. My only caveat was that at the panel I went to on writing memoir, one of the speakers was asked about writing one and said she's a novelist and hates memoirs. Perhaps not the best person for this panel.
I offer my services. In fact, Rita, who's a friend, said she'd ask me to do a seminar on memoir next year. Happy to oblige.
Then, skirting the vast crowds, I rode up to Bloor Street - saw Santa! He was on the last float, just as the parade, thank God, ended, because I wasn't sure even with the bike I could get where I wanted to go - to Koerner Hall to hear the brilliant New York pianist Richard Goode. My piano teacher Peter recommended this concert, saying that Goode, a pianist of uncommon emotional richness, is getting on in years - good to see him now. And I concur. Emotional richness indeed, and incredible precision, delicacy and force. Hard to believe two hands could make that wealth of music. Discouraging, no, inspiring for a fledgling pianist.
THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS TO DO IN THIS CITY. In this life! How to choose, how to cope? Last night I was going to work but just had to watch TCM's Wild Strawberries, which somehow I'd never seen - and it was well worth it, what a haunting film. There is so much theatre, music, film, art - not to mention the piles of books and TV - and then there's this little machine on my lap, the internet so packed with stuff, good and bad. Overwhelming sometimes. Lists. Must make lists.
I just picked up one of my new library books, the memoir "Time was soft there" - about a Canadian journalist's time in Paris. But I will not read it. I happened to open by chance to a page where he describes a story he pursued for a Canadian newspaper; he found out that a highly respected Ottawa heart surgeon had been arrested with a prostitute, and the story was buried. This journalist - Jeremy Mercer - decided to pursue it. Because of him, the surgeon was forced to hold a press conference with his family, confess and resign.
I know this story very well. The heart surgeon was Dr. Wilfred Keon; in my family, the man is a beloved saint - and in countless other families too. He operated on my mother's heart not once but twice, putting in a pig's valve and granting her decades of new life. A man of compassion and skill - in fact, like Richard Goode, of incredible precision, delicacy and force - whose one embarrassing illegal incident had been concealed because of his eminence and vital work, who should not have been hounded into humiliation. I'll take this book back tomorrow.
I rode first to Inspire, Toronto's new book fair. On the way - this was at 9.45 a.m. - I passed people already sitting by the curb downtown in the falling snow. Grownups with no children, even! How have I managed to avoid the Santa Claus Parade all these years? Anna was there today with Eli and some of his cousins, all bundled up. He fell asleep before Santa appeared, she told me.
My friend Kerry Clare, whose blog Pickle Me This appears on this page, was at the book fair with her website 49th Shelf, and she and I met for the first time, though we feel we know each other well from our mutual blogs. Kerry describes the event beautifully in her current blog post called Inspire, so I won't reiterate. It's a terrific event put on by Rita Davies; brava to her and her colleagues - beautifully organized, restful, thoughtful, fun. My only caveat was that at the panel I went to on writing memoir, one of the speakers was asked about writing one and said she's a novelist and hates memoirs. Perhaps not the best person for this panel.
I offer my services. In fact, Rita, who's a friend, said she'd ask me to do a seminar on memoir next year. Happy to oblige.
Then, skirting the vast crowds, I rode up to Bloor Street - saw Santa! He was on the last float, just as the parade, thank God, ended, because I wasn't sure even with the bike I could get where I wanted to go - to Koerner Hall to hear the brilliant New York pianist Richard Goode. My piano teacher Peter recommended this concert, saying that Goode, a pianist of uncommon emotional richness, is getting on in years - good to see him now. And I concur. Emotional richness indeed, and incredible precision, delicacy and force. Hard to believe two hands could make that wealth of music. Discouraging, no, inspiring for a fledgling pianist.
THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS TO DO IN THIS CITY. In this life! How to choose, how to cope? Last night I was going to work but just had to watch TCM's Wild Strawberries, which somehow I'd never seen - and it was well worth it, what a haunting film. There is so much theatre, music, film, art - not to mention the piles of books and TV - and then there's this little machine on my lap, the internet so packed with stuff, good and bad. Overwhelming sometimes. Lists. Must make lists.
I just picked up one of my new library books, the memoir "Time was soft there" - about a Canadian journalist's time in Paris. But I will not read it. I happened to open by chance to a page where he describes a story he pursued for a Canadian newspaper; he found out that a highly respected Ottawa heart surgeon had been arrested with a prostitute, and the story was buried. This journalist - Jeremy Mercer - decided to pursue it. Because of him, the surgeon was forced to hold a press conference with his family, confess and resign.
I know this story very well. The heart surgeon was Dr. Wilfred Keon; in my family, the man is a beloved saint - and in countless other families too. He operated on my mother's heart not once but twice, putting in a pig's valve and granting her decades of new life. A man of compassion and skill - in fact, like Richard Goode, of incredible precision, delicacy and force - whose one embarrassing illegal incident had been concealed because of his eminence and vital work, who should not have been hounded into humiliation. I'll take this book back tomorrow.
November 15, 2014
a scary world
I’ve just left our francophone discussion evening, and despite the excellent food and many glasses of rouge, I am seriously depressed. We spent an obligatory amount of time on Jian and sexual assault and the injustices on both sides – women abused, men falsely accused - though for sure, many more of the former than the latter. But then we moved on to the world. Jack, who grew up in a Siberian gulag and knows a lot, made sure we understood who Putin is – one of the sharpest world leaders, a crafty aggressor wanting to increase Russia’s already vast store of armaments. Jack blames Obama for not being strong or clever enough to play the major role the U.S. should play on the world stage. I retorted that American politics now is just about frantically raising money for re-election, no time for a wider world view. Gilbert said yes, the Bush Supreme Court in its decision to allow limitless money in elections had probably destroyed American democracy. Plus, I said, still defending Obama with my customary restraint - all this in French except when we got really really excited - the loathsome Republican machine is out to block every Democratic proposal, no matter what harm it does to the country.
Not to mention the issue of an incredibly complicated, shifting world map and the ever-growing ranks of murderous Islamic extremists the world over. No wonder Obama is not coming through.Who HAS done a good job on the world stage, Jack? I asked. And we bemoaned the lack of leaders for the last … decades. And our own idiot, there in Australia turning a cold shoulder to Putin to gain votes in Canada – contributing nothing to civil international discourse, making Canada a pariah once more. Even Jack, whose politics are far to the right, admitted that. He talked about 1815 – Talleyrand, Metternich, the great age of diplomacy when the balance of power was maintained by great diplomats. We do not remotely have that today. He talked about China and India, countries long at war with lots of bombs who are building rival railways in the Himalayas; Japan, seeking to arm itself again; Russian submarines filling the arctic … Jack said western democracies may not be able to sustain the kind of freedom they've always enjoyed when dealing with totalitarian regimes the world over. And Gilbert said he had talked to Margaret McMillan, brilliant author of a seminal book about WWI, and she said the situation in the world now is reminiscent of 1913. No one wanted war then, she said. The French, the English, they were clever, but they were dragged into war.
I just listened to the CBC news with new ears. But it’s better not to know.
Not to mention the issue of an incredibly complicated, shifting world map and the ever-growing ranks of murderous Islamic extremists the world over. No wonder Obama is not coming through.Who HAS done a good job on the world stage, Jack? I asked. And we bemoaned the lack of leaders for the last … decades. And our own idiot, there in Australia turning a cold shoulder to Putin to gain votes in Canada – contributing nothing to civil international discourse, making Canada a pariah once more. Even Jack, whose politics are far to the right, admitted that. He talked about 1815 – Talleyrand, Metternich, the great age of diplomacy when the balance of power was maintained by great diplomats. We do not remotely have that today. He talked about China and India, countries long at war with lots of bombs who are building rival railways in the Himalayas; Japan, seeking to arm itself again; Russian submarines filling the arctic … Jack said western democracies may not be able to sustain the kind of freedom they've always enjoyed when dealing with totalitarian regimes the world over. And Gilbert said he had talked to Margaret McMillan, brilliant author of a seminal book about WWI, and she said the situation in the world now is reminiscent of 1913. No one wanted war then, she said. The French, the English, they were clever, but they were dragged into war.
I just listened to the CBC news with new ears. But it’s better not to know.
Ray Civello's library
Love this - the section in the Globe that shows you the favourite room of a person they have named an important Torontonian. Ray Civello is a hairdresser to the stars, I guess, and this is what he calls his library.
Notice something missing? Sigh. Oh, and those bookshelves - yes, he calls them bookshelves - are oak, original to the house, but he painted them white to better showcase his collection of ... things. And his seventeen books.
Sigh.
Today I wanted to go to the matinee of Soulpepper's Spoon River Anthology, which has had rave reviews, but it's sold out. So I will work instead. Tonight's treat - my neighbour Monique's Francophone dinner, her gathering of French-speaking Anglophones who eat and drink and jabber for hours in French - always fascinating, always delicious, and right next door. Quelle chance!
As a point of comparison, I'd like to show you one of the favourite rooms of an obscure Toronto writer and teacher: the library, with unpainted Ikea bookshelves, of my humble self.
This is in the spare bedroom upstairs, aka Bruce's Room, because the living room is already drowning in books. I just took two back to the library: 100 essays I don't have time to write, by playwright Sarah Ruhl, and Safekeeping: Some stories from a life, by Abigail Thomas, both thoughtful, well-written, and of course TRUE. And picked up two memoirs I'd ordered which just came in: If only you people could follow directions, by Jessica Nelson, and Time was soft there: A Paris sojourn at Shakespeare and Co., by Jeremy Mercer. I don't read all the books here from cover to cover - sometimes just a bit is enough. But to me, there's nothing more thrilling than opening a book I've been wanting to read. And it's been that way since I was about five.
Quelle chance.
One more library: in Lauren Bacall's apartment at the Dakota in New York. The second room they show has books, a fireplace, a comfy sofa and a view. A mere 26 million and it could be yours.
Notice something missing? Sigh. Oh, and those bookshelves - yes, he calls them bookshelves - are oak, original to the house, but he painted them white to better showcase his collection of ... things. And his seventeen books.Sigh.
Today I wanted to go to the matinee of Soulpepper's Spoon River Anthology, which has had rave reviews, but it's sold out. So I will work instead. Tonight's treat - my neighbour Monique's Francophone dinner, her gathering of French-speaking Anglophones who eat and drink and jabber for hours in French - always fascinating, always delicious, and right next door. Quelle chance!
As a point of comparison, I'd like to show you one of the favourite rooms of an obscure Toronto writer and teacher: the library, with unpainted Ikea bookshelves, of my humble self.
This is in the spare bedroom upstairs, aka Bruce's Room, because the living room is already drowning in books. I just took two back to the library: 100 essays I don't have time to write, by playwright Sarah Ruhl, and Safekeeping: Some stories from a life, by Abigail Thomas, both thoughtful, well-written, and of course TRUE. And picked up two memoirs I'd ordered which just came in: If only you people could follow directions, by Jessica Nelson, and Time was soft there: A Paris sojourn at Shakespeare and Co., by Jeremy Mercer. I don't read all the books here from cover to cover - sometimes just a bit is enough. But to me, there's nothing more thrilling than opening a book I've been wanting to read. And it's been that way since I was about five.Quelle chance.
One more library: in Lauren Bacall's apartment at the Dakota in New York. The second room they show has books, a fireplace, a comfy sofa and a view. A mere 26 million and it could be yours.
http://www.warburgrealty.com/property/136890820141114P.S. Just checked my bank account online - and there's a surprise $183.99 from Access Copyright, that collects copying revenue for writers. Don't let anyone tell you that writing doesn't pay. Woo hoo!
November 13, 2014
Julien Blanc. illiterate jerk
Much fuss about some guy called Julien Blanc - there's a petition circulating to keep him out of Canada, so I decided to go on-line to find out who he is. What I found on his website PIMP is mind-boggling, grotesque, appalling. He is out to teach men clever tricks about how to get women to sleep with them: "hot-searing coal attraction," "panty-dropping masculinity" and "last dick standing."
I am not "self-amused." Hard to believe anyone has ever taken him seriously enough to write a petition about. And yet ...DEVELOP PANTY-DROPPING MASCULINITY WITH THIS
ROCK-SOLID STRUCTURE TO SELF-GENERATE
THE POWERFUL EMOTIONS GIRLS CRAVE
Finally Debunking the Myth of what “Being a Sex-Worthy Guy” is, the Inner Game section of PIMP, will LOGICALLY explain to you how to reach The Vibe of “THAT guy” who girls respond to, every single time you go out, and how to STIMULATE HER EMOTIONALLY,making you IRRESISTABLE to her:+ The Four Pillars of a Sex-Worthy Guy: This module alone will boost you Game alone to ridiculous levels of efficiency. You will learn how to calibrate every single one of the FourPillars to adjust and have a hot-searing coal attraction from the girl EFFORTLESSLY, you’ll learn to be:PurposefulControlledFlowingSelf-Amused+ How to Suck Girls Into Your Sex-Worthy Reality. It’s one thing to be Sex-Worthy and that magnetic, but the key is in making the girl relate to you. You will need the finesse to ease her into it. And I show you exactly how+ THE ONLY REASON You’ll ever need to Make Yourself Feel Good All The Time. Once you understand this concept (and I break it down so damn well), you will awaken endless positive emotions in the girl+ My INFALLIBLE Method To Hit State. I call it The Four Mantras, and it’s literally the FASTEST way to get “in the zone” where everything that comes out of your mouth is PURE GOLD. None of my clients have experienced Approach Anxiety since teaching them this method+ A Cheat Sheet To Maximize Your Chances To Pull Every Night. I call it Tempo of the Night, and it will give you the best strategies to end up with a girl at the end of the night, depending on where her emotions are, and I reveal the techniques that her NEED TO BE FUCKED, or if she needs you to pump her up like I’ll show you inside the courseEXTRA SECTION: I’ll teach you the “Last Dick Standing” strategy to have sex with a girl after every other guy attempted to, but failed. And this is the reason why
I am not "self-amused." Hard to believe anyone has ever taken him seriously enough to write a petition about. And yet ...DEVELOP PANTY-DROPPING MASCULINITY WITH THIS
ROCK-SOLID STRUCTURE TO SELF-GENERATE
THE POWERFUL EMOTIONS GIRLS CRAVE
Finally Debunking the Myth of what “Being a Sex-Worthy Guy” is, the Inner Game section of PIMP, will LOGICALLY explain to you how to reach The Vibe of “THAT guy” who girls respond to, every single time you go out, and how to STIMULATE HER EMOTIONALLY,making you IRRESISTABLE to her:+ The Four Pillars of a Sex-Worthy Guy: This module alone will boost you Game alone to ridiculous levels of efficiency. You will learn how to calibrate every single one of the FourPillars to adjust and have a hot-searing coal attraction from the girl EFFORTLESSLY, you’ll learn to be:PurposefulControlledFlowingSelf-Amused+ How to Suck Girls Into Your Sex-Worthy Reality. It’s one thing to be Sex-Worthy and that magnetic, but the key is in making the girl relate to you. You will need the finesse to ease her into it. And I show you exactly how+ THE ONLY REASON You’ll ever need to Make Yourself Feel Good All The Time. Once you understand this concept (and I break it down so damn well), you will awaken endless positive emotions in the girl+ My INFALLIBLE Method To Hit State. I call it The Four Mantras, and it’s literally the FASTEST way to get “in the zone” where everything that comes out of your mouth is PURE GOLD. None of my clients have experienced Approach Anxiety since teaching them this method+ A Cheat Sheet To Maximize Your Chances To Pull Every Night. I call it Tempo of the Night, and it will give you the best strategies to end up with a girl at the end of the night, depending on where her emotions are, and I reveal the techniques that her NEED TO BE FUCKED, or if she needs you to pump her up like I’ll show you inside the courseEXTRA SECTION: I’ll teach you the “Last Dick Standing” strategy to have sex with a girl after every other guy attempted to, but failed. And this is the reason why
writing and money - what's money?
If any readers out there have a fantasy about the glamorous life of the author ... and I know MY glamorous life lives up to your expectations, just slipping on my ball-gown now to rush off in the stretch limo and drink cocktails with Peggy Atwood, oh yes ... please read this excellent article from the Star. It's all true - being a writer not only doesn't pay, it COSTS. It's a career that makes no financial sense at all except for J. K. Rowling. But we do it anyway, for love, for truth, for art. But not, repeat not, for pay.
Can you afford to be a writer?Not everyone can win the Giller Prize and for many authors, writing doesn’t pay the bills
Can you afford to be a writer?Not everyone can win the Giller Prize and for many authors, writing doesn’t pay the bills
November 12, 2014
Scary snake
Yesterday was heaven - warm and sunny, like late summer. Today, it's winter - just above zero with a bitter wind. It's over, folks. Supposed to snow on the weekend. The trees are showering bright yellow leaves about, giant piles in every yard and on the streets. Cold will reign.
Nearly froze riding my bike to the Y but did so anyway, stubbornly, because it's so much faster than any other conveyance through downtown. Carole's class was as usual brutal but fun. There was a new woman there today, young, lean, amazingly fit. At the end, we went up to congratulate her - and she told us she's just getting back in shape because she has a 7 month old baby.
Ye gods.
I'm glad I had my babies when there was no pressure about getting instantly back in shape, losing the baby weight in two weeks and having rock hard abs in three. As I recall, I sat around in a dressing gown for two years, eating everything in sight. It was great.
The child produced in 1981 sent me through Facebook today the most wonderful little video - her son looking at a picture book, chatting about the animals he sees - "Das a fierce lion! oh, scary snake!" I have watched it five times and tried to send it to friends, but it won't send. She is going to find a way to get it to me so I can make you watch it. It will be compulsory viewing, the cutest thing you will ever see in your life, guaranteed.
I know, I'm insufferable. Don't care.
Last night, friend Lynn and I had dinner and much wine, getting caught up after months, and then on to see a show at Hart House called Canada Fall In, a collage of pictures, music and text about Canada in WWI. Now I know what place names like Vimy Ridge and Passchendaele really mean. What a sacrifice Canada made in that terrible war - 61,000 young men. Horrendous.
To cheer myself up, I'll watch my favourite movie "Scary snake" again.
Nearly froze riding my bike to the Y but did so anyway, stubbornly, because it's so much faster than any other conveyance through downtown. Carole's class was as usual brutal but fun. There was a new woman there today, young, lean, amazingly fit. At the end, we went up to congratulate her - and she told us she's just getting back in shape because she has a 7 month old baby.
Ye gods.
I'm glad I had my babies when there was no pressure about getting instantly back in shape, losing the baby weight in two weeks and having rock hard abs in three. As I recall, I sat around in a dressing gown for two years, eating everything in sight. It was great.
The child produced in 1981 sent me through Facebook today the most wonderful little video - her son looking at a picture book, chatting about the animals he sees - "Das a fierce lion! oh, scary snake!" I have watched it five times and tried to send it to friends, but it won't send. She is going to find a way to get it to me so I can make you watch it. It will be compulsory viewing, the cutest thing you will ever see in your life, guaranteed.
I know, I'm insufferable. Don't care.
Last night, friend Lynn and I had dinner and much wine, getting caught up after months, and then on to see a show at Hart House called Canada Fall In, a collage of pictures, music and text about Canada in WWI. Now I know what place names like Vimy Ridge and Passchendaele really mean. What a sacrifice Canada made in that terrible war - 61,000 young men. Horrendous.
To cheer myself up, I'll watch my favourite movie "Scary snake" again.
November 11, 2014
Gracias a la vida
Nancy's birthday party was wonderful - a gathering of lifelong friends to make merry music, it made me glad to be alive. Friend Terry produced the photo below for the scrapbook on display - Nancy visiting Gillian, John and me in the kitchen of our communal house on Markham Street in early 1973. I was 22; Nancy was 28. John, an Englishman, made his own Guinness beer in a garbage can in the communal bathroom. There were cockroaches. There was marijuana. We went almost every Friday night to El Mocambo to dance. We were young.
Nancy on Sunday with her musician daughter Suzy who organized the whole she-bang. More than 40 years later she looks exactly the same.
What's extraordinary about Nancy's compositions are their range - from sharply satirical and political to hauntingly true about family life and failed love - "In love with the lead," "Bad Boy," the funny, moving song quoting her daughters' embarrassment about their mother - to Broadway showbizzy, as in the songs from her musical "Gilbert and Anne," to simply hilariously quirky, as in "Les Belles Fesses" or her song about the woman with a 40 pound cyst. Who else would read that in the paper and write a song about it??
Best of all, the singers were often the next generation, performers from Wexford Collegiate, where Nancy's daughters studied, so beautiful, so young - just a little younger, in fact, than Nancy and I were when we toured in 1972. Then a man from Argentina told us that when he and his compatriots were in Toronto trying to rally political support to fight the junta, Nancy wrote a song that became a union ballad sung across the country and in Argentina too. Didn't know that. And we all sang along with "Gracias a la Vida," the classic Chilean Violeta Para song that Nan translated and often sang.
I was at a table with friends I've had since the early 70's - and Gillian there too, friend since Halifax, 1958. It was a fantastic night.
Yesterday, my daughter came over to work. I need help organizing the chaos of my life, especially the basement where everything is piled, and she is an expert organizer. We spent two hours and I'm a new woman. We now have a date every Monday. Talk about win/win for me - I get time with my girl and an organized house too. At one point, I showed her a decade's worth of old daytimers and said, "I don't know why I keep these, but I do," and she said, "Mum, I hope it's okay if I say that if you don't get around to throwing them out, one day very, very far in the future, I will."
It's comforting to know that yes, without a moment's hesitation, she will.
Nancy on Sunday with her musician daughter Suzy who organized the whole she-bang. More than 40 years later she looks exactly the same.
What's extraordinary about Nancy's compositions are their range - from sharply satirical and political to hauntingly true about family life and failed love - "In love with the lead," "Bad Boy," the funny, moving song quoting her daughters' embarrassment about their mother - to Broadway showbizzy, as in the songs from her musical "Gilbert and Anne," to simply hilariously quirky, as in "Les Belles Fesses" or her song about the woman with a 40 pound cyst. Who else would read that in the paper and write a song about it??Best of all, the singers were often the next generation, performers from Wexford Collegiate, where Nancy's daughters studied, so beautiful, so young - just a little younger, in fact, than Nancy and I were when we toured in 1972. Then a man from Argentina told us that when he and his compatriots were in Toronto trying to rally political support to fight the junta, Nancy wrote a song that became a union ballad sung across the country and in Argentina too. Didn't know that. And we all sang along with "Gracias a la Vida," the classic Chilean Violeta Para song that Nan translated and often sang.
I was at a table with friends I've had since the early 70's - and Gillian there too, friend since Halifax, 1958. It was a fantastic night.
Yesterday, my daughter came over to work. I need help organizing the chaos of my life, especially the basement where everything is piled, and she is an expert organizer. We spent two hours and I'm a new woman. We now have a date every Monday. Talk about win/win for me - I get time with my girl and an organized house too. At one point, I showed her a decade's worth of old daytimers and said, "I don't know why I keep these, but I do," and she said, "Mum, I hope it's okay if I say that if you don't get around to throwing them out, one day very, very far in the future, I will."
It's comforting to know that yes, without a moment's hesitation, she will.
