Hayley Linfield's Blog, page 2
November 13, 2012
My Clutter? It's not so bad...
I have more clutter than other people. I’m sure of it, because whenever I go to my neighbours’ houses, I never see any clutter, even if I just drop in on them.
Because I’m certain I have more clutter than other people, it implies one of two possibilities: either they do not amass as much clutter as I do in the first place, or they have organized spaces in which to store/dispose of their clutter.
It’s possible they have ‘clutter rooms’, spaces behind closed doors where they throw their clutter as it enters their houses, or even, perhaps, ‘clutter drawers.’ Really a drawer wouldn’t be enough space to hold all my clutter. I’d need an entire room. Or several rooms.
And it isn’t that I don’t throw out my clutter. I do throw out what I think can be thrown out, but some things, like the spelling test that got five out of five, or the cheque from the government for $2.50 that I keep forgetting to take to the bank (because it’s not worth the trip)… these things pile up.
Clearly part of my problem is just that I don’t take the time to put things in their proper place. The toy soldiers on the counter? I know where they belong. The insurance papers that keep on coming? We do have a file folder in the office labeled Annoying Stuff I Don’t Understand.
This whole idea of “putting things away?” It’s a skill I’ve never learned in spite of my parents’ best intentions to teach it to me. As a child I had all sort of posters and puzzles and laundry bags with cute messages on them, such as, “Sweetheart! Clean up your mess!” I can recall going hungry a few times because I simply couldn’t manage to get my bedroom tidied up before dinner was served.
There are different sorts of clutter: there is kitchen clutter, living room clutter, bedroom clutter, and office clutter. Kitchen clutter is sort of magical as it gets moved around in piles (from counter to table to counter to table) growing in size until it finds its way into a drawer. (We have a lot of drawers.) Then it starts over again. Living room clutter consists mostly of toys, books, drawings, and miscellaneous school items. Bedroom clutter is too private to talk about.
Office clutter is perhaps the most eclectic. Here are examples of my office clutter: used up printer cartridge, packaging from new printer cartridge, letters from people who don’t use email (yes, they still exist), some sort of level/flashlight, various bills, expired credit card, unused cheques from closed bank account, some silk trim from a dress, various photographs (including a wallet-size of my sister’s 1996 college-graduation picture!), a wooden scorpion, some rolled up scraps of wallpaper, two pieces of driftwood, a small ceramic house, some wooden toppings from a toy pizza, two tampons, a variety of books, three broken Barbie dolls, some beer coasters, a wooden letter ‘G’, 67 cents, a broken remote controller for a plastic bumper car, several pens, cords and wires, a tin of Vaseline, a book of matches, a brass paper weight that says “AT ONCE”, a fridge magnet with a picture of the Kremlin on it… Seriously I could go on, and that’s just the stuff on top of my desk. It’s amazing there’s room for my computer on here.
The real problem is not that I have a lot of clutter; it’s the fact that I actually do know what to do about it… and I haven’t done it. It would only take me about a day to go through it all, throw out what I don’t want, give away what I can, and put away the rest. In fact, I could be doing that right now, but it’s more fun to write about my clutter than to actually deal with it.
According to Google, there are about 4,160,000 hits on ‘how to get rid of clutter.’ Can you imagine that? Over four million people are out there ready to give me advice on how to get rid of my clutter and I already know what to do about it. The thing is, what I want to do even less than actually go through all my clutter is read about how I should get rid of my clutter. It’s like four million nagging moms out there saying, “Clean up your mess! Get it tidied up! Just do it!”
This is the point in my essay where I include a witty quotation about how clutter’s not so bad, but I couldn’t find any quotations like that. Seems all the experts agree that clutter is a negative thing that must be uprooted and destroyed.
Well, the amazing thing is that my clutter doesn’t really bother me all that much. Oh sure, I love my house right after I’ve done a big cleaning, but in the back of my mind, I know that within a few days, it’ll look exactly the same way it looked before. And that’s the thing about clutter: it’s CONSTANT. It never ceases. Clean it up and it’ll get messy again. Give it away and more will arrive. Put it in a drawer and it will undoubtedly find its way out.
And so I resolve not to worry about it. Clutter and I will live together in harmony, each minding our own business. Oh, I’ll try to tame it a bit, keep it in check so it doesn’t overwhelm or suffocate me, but I refuse to let it control my life. And besides, that grad picture of my sister reminds me that I should give her a call, and that Kremlin fridge magnet reminds me of my grandma and all her pretty trinkets I used to admire, and that beer coaster reminds me of the strange pub my husband and I went to that one time in Dallas, and that wooden scorpion reminds me of my son who painted it with such love…
As we go through life, we collect clutter. Some of it is annoying (like all those dead batteries that can’t be put in the garbage), but some of it is kind of nice (like the photos that just haven’t yet made their ways into albums). My clutter is the story of my life, little reminders of what has happened or of what is yet to come. I don’t feel stifled by it. It doesn’t make me anxious or stressed. Really, in my opinion, clutter’s only as damaging as you think it is.
October 23, 2012
Rethinking the Anti-Bullying Campaign
This will not be politically correct so if you’re easily offended, please stop reading. To start, I have no answers or solutions to solving the problem of bullying. Frankly, I don’t think the problem will ever go away. I’m sure that at some level, bullying is an innate part of humanity. We form groups with certain people, and we exclude others. It’s a survival mechanism. We want only strong people in our group. Weak people will hurt us.
Of course, we in the Western world no longer have to fight to survive. Our biggest fight, and especially in high school, is to fit in, to be accepted and popular. To that end, humans align themselves with those people who will help them achieve that goal. Most girls want to be beautiful and admired. You with the coke-bottle glasses and last year’s jeans? You’re out of the group. You’re bringing us down. Most boys want to be tough and admired. Skinny boy who’s suspiciously effeminate and wears pink shirts? Not manly enough for us. You’re out. We’ve all seen it. It’s nothing new.
But I’m being simplistic. Of course there are extremes. Sometimes it goes too far. Sometimes it results in severe beatings, hospitalization, depression, suicide, or even in very rare cases, murder. And our society has responded, calling for an international push to stop bullying. Accept everyone. Don’t sit back in silence. Speak out. It’s a great campaign and maybe it’s even working to an extent. I’d never argue against it.
But there’s one component of the whole thing that just doesn’t sit right with me and it’s hard to put into words. The concern that I have is this: Is it now cool to be bullied?
I watched a news story of children in a classroom taking turns talking about how they were teased and taunted and how it made them feel, and I couldn’t help thinking that they were trying to outdo one another, each trying to be the most dramatic, the biggest victim. And why not? Part of this anti-bullying campaign is about glorifying the victims. The kids who kill themselves become two-dimensional deities, put up on a platform to be praised and envied by their less-bullied peers. I’m no expert in social studies, but I have been a teenager and I would bet that every kid holding a candle to a suicide victim is wishing, at some level, that they were the ones getting all that attention.
By focusing on the effects of bullying, on how it made you feel, of encouraging children to open up about depression and fear, are we glorifying weakness? By holding candlelit vigils to these victims, are we silently affirming that suicide is an acceptable response to a problem that almost every adult knows will eventually go away?
Thousands of kids and teens are bullied every day. Why do we focus on the ones who were destroyed? Why don’t we focus on those who became stronger? Why don’t we focus on the ones who refused to let the daily taunts take root inside their souls, the ones who were able to turn the other cheek and move on?
In large cities when someone leaps in front of a subway, that person’s name is never published. Why? Because we don’t want to encourage the behaviour. In Japan if someone jumps in front of a train, apparently the family of the jumper gets the bill for the clean up. It’s a punishment, a way of saying this is an unacceptable response to whatever problem you have in your life. That may be a bit harsh, but I would suggest that it’s a heck of a lot smarter than rewarding the action.
The gay community’s “It gets better!” campaign is, I think, a step in the right direction. I think the rest of society should get on board. Talk about bullying, but stop talking about how depressed it made you. Instead, talk about how you overcame it and became a better and stronger person.
October 18, 2012
Kate Policani's 'Don't Judge a Book by its Magic'
Today I introduce Kate Policani's Fantasy novel, Don't Judge a Book By Its Magic, Book One of of The Convergence Series.
Here is what Kate's editor Kathleen Firstenberg has to say about her upcoming book: http://kathleenfberg.webs.com/apps/blog/show/14688705-how-to-win-friends-and-influence-magicians
A review by the Bookworm Extraordinaire: http://www.thebookwormextraordinare.blogspot.ca/2012/09/review-dont-judge-book-by-its-magic-by.html
Synopsis:
I’m a normal girl. I am. I love shoes, fragranced body care, and hair products. I love all the chick flicks that have come out in the theaters in the last 2 years (and a lot of the old ones) and I obsess about my wardrobe. I respond positively to most of the marketing directed at females in my age group.
My name is Colleen Underhill, and the only abnormal thing about me is that I just discovered I am, or I transformed into, a magician; not the disappearing bunny kind, but the power-shooting-out-of-your-hands kind of magician.
My problem now is that I do NOT believe in magic. Well, I believe in it. I have seen it shoot out of my own hands, but I oppose it in a moral sense; no hexes, no spells, no incantations, no potions, no amulets, no tomes, no casting circles, no eye of newt, none of that. I have to be very clear because people pressure me about it. Whatever they say about “how it’s done,” this is a morality issue for me and I will not cave in to their pressure.
But what do I do now?
Don’t Judge a Book By Its Magic on Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/16045564-don-t-judge-a-book-by-its-magic
October 16, 2012
The Highs, the Lows, the InBetweens, by Sarwah Osei-Tutu
Today as part of my participation in the Author Blog-In, I'd like to introduce you to a book of poems by Sarwah Osei-Tutu.
http://thehighsthelowstheinbetweens.wordpress.com/
A book of poetry written at each stage of my life. Childhood, University Student, Mother, Married, Separation and a Single Mother. Life is tough for everyone. I believe that everyone has struggled through one aspect of their life, others every aspect. I do have faith that one day, it will get better and the journey will end with a stronger, wiser woman at the end of it.
Life can get you down, but it is how you deal with these struggles that make you the person you are today. I find writing helps me deal with every aspect of my life. The pleasant experiences are written so that I can turn back and be grateful for the things I have achieved in life. The unpleasant experiences are written, so I can overcome them and deal with the problems that I am facing at the moment. I am publishing these personal parts of my life, to help others see that they are not alone. I am not an expert in any domain, I have not succeeded in any aspect of my life, but I try to learn from my mistakes and in turn, I have become wiser. Knowledge gained by experience, rather than through a book or education. Therefore, take this journey with me, through every aspect of my life, the highs, lows and the inbetweens.
http://https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/236231
http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/HLIB
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009BK18RY
October 15, 2012
Moments Collide, by Angela Graff
Angela Graff's book, Moments Collide, is available on Amazon and Create Space and more information can be learned about her writing on her Facebook page or her website: http://themrsgraff.blogspot.ca/2012/10/author-blog-in-moments-collide.html
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Moments Collide is the story told by Felix LaPage, a young man with huge musical aspirations. Growing up, Felix developed a love of music, and with his cello, worked his way through school to try and become a musical success.
However, that's not the whole story. While working toward his musical dreams, Felix met a woman who would change the course of his life, but not necessarily in a good way. With this woman, Rayne, Felix learns that not everyone is kind or selfless. Struggling through Rayne's verbal and emotional abuse, Felix also must face getting over her multiple affairs.
It's one night, on a long train-ride home, where Felix meets a young woman who shows him a different path, a path that could lead to his own personal happiness, free of struggle and pain. It's up to Felix, however, to choose whether or not he's meant to walk the painful path with Rayne, or a path that allows him to be free.
Below is a short excerpt from the book. The book is available on the Kindle Library, which I highly encourage people to check it out. Any and all reviews are highly appreciated. Please enjoy the small bit of my story. Much love to all the readers and writers out there. Thanks for checking out my blog!
Note: this excerpt has had the language edited to keep it to a G rating for other bloggers. Please note that the actual text in the book consists of adult language. Thank you!
Excerpt:
As I approached my door, my phone began to ring again, the bells piercing through my thoughts in an extremely unpleasant way. I was not surprised to see Rayne's number and this time I answered it.
“Hello?”
“Uhg, Felix,” she hissed at me. “What have you been doing all day that you couldn't answer my calls?”
“Oh, I was just busy,” I said, my voice oddly calm. “I did want to tell you, though; I had a visitor last night around midnight.”
“What kind of visitor?” she asked, her voice heavy with suspicion.
“Well, it was your friend Richard, actually. Before I go on, Rayne, is there anything you want to tell me? Anything at all?”
“Um... no,” she said. Her voice was suddenly small and scared. “Why?”
“Oh I don't know,” I said, and the hard edge began to form around my words. “I thought maybe you'd like to confess to cheating before I call you out on it.”
“Felix,” she cried. “Is that what he said? He said he and I slept together?! I told you that he was going to try and pull this when I left! I told you he was in love with me!”
“He had pictures of the two of you... YOU CARELESS PERSON!” My voice went from calm to rage in a nanosecond. Fury rushed through me and I couldn't stop screaming. “HE HAD PICTURES OF YOU AND HIM FROM THE SECURITY CAMERA, YOU DIRTY, DISGUSTING, LYING...! SO TELL ME AGAIN THAT HE'S LYING, RAYNE! TELL ME AGAIN!”
She was sobbing now, hysterically, and I didn't care. She blubbered on behind her sobs, words that I didn't understand. I caught an “I'm so sorry”, “made a huge mistake”, “went too far”, but none of it mattered. She was a liar, she was unfaithful, and above all she put me at risk because she didn't bother to tell me the truth.
“Do you realize that I have to get tested now, Rayne?!” I shouted at her. I was still outside, not caring who heard me. I was pacing the grass, kicking around the towels that Richard had left out in the rain. “Do you realize that I could be infected with something because you slept around and didn't bother to care about who you affected?! Are you proud of yourself, Rayne? Is this something you're proud of!? Are you happy now, with what you did? Was he worth it?!”
“Felix, please,” she begged, her sobs still punctuating every syllable.
“No, shut up. You don't get to talk to me. You don't get to say my name. You don't get to ask me for anything. When we get home you and I will discuss the end of our relationship, and at least this long drive you have ahead of you will give you time to reflect on whether or not losing an upright, honest man was worth your little fest with some dirty piece of junk. Good bye, Rayne.”
With that, I hung up. I was shaking, and my neighbor was outside staring at me. He gave me an 'I'm sorry, man' smile and went back inside as I opened my front door and walked in. My adrenaline was pumping and part of me wished she was there right now so I could keep screaming.
Screaming, however, was not going to make it better. Even in my state of mind I knew that, and the two hours it took her to get home allowed me to be calm. I was sitting on the couch when she walked in. Her face was white and she looked petrified. She set her keys down and started to sit next to me so I stood up and walked across the room.
The pictures were now on top of the TV, still unopened, and I threw them to her. “Enjoy the show,” I said as she opened the folder and pulled out the stack. I took care not to look at them but it was clear by her face that whatever the cameras captured was pretty graphic.
“I had no idea there was a camera,” she said.
“Well lucky for me then, isn't it, or I might have never known,” I bit.
“Felix, if you'll just listen to me for a minute-”
“Rayne, you don't get to talk,” I snapped at her, my temper perilously close to shooting off. “You're going to sit there, keep your mouth shut, and listen to what I have to say.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks and she let out a little sob, but she knew I had her. I would have felt sorry for how I was treating her if for one moment I thought her tears were because she felt bad for what she had done. Unfortunately, for both of us, I knew she was only upset because she'd been caught. She'd been caught in such a way that she couldn't talk her way out of it.
“Rayne, I can't afford this place on my own yet, so I can't kick you out. I was already speaking with the office but because of your credit they won't let me off the lease so I can move out to a place I can afford, so for now, you get to move out of our bedroom and sleep in the second bedroom. You and I will split bills down the middle, and you will carry the weight of the extra finances until I can afford to buy myself a car-- a problem I wouldn't have if you hadn't insisted I sell my car to buy you a ring which you threw in my face just weeks later.”
“We're both going to get tested, which you're paying for, and if we need any treatments, you'll also pay for those. You won't talk to me, you won't touch me, you won't look at me. You won't be spending any time with me, and if you ask me for anything, literally anything, I will spit in your face. Do I make myself clear?”
With tears pouring down her face, make-up smeared, looking devastated, hurt and on the verge of hysterics, she nodded. “I'm so sorry,” she breathed from beneath her tears. “I love you, Felix, I really do.”
“Don't ever say that to me again,” I hissed at her, my temper boiling, my face going red and hot. “Don't you ever dare!”
“But I do!” she cried in defense.
“I don't care if you think you do, Rayne!” I bellowed. “Your sick, sick mind has no idea what love is! You have no idea what selflessness, love, or compassion are. You don't get to use those words to me. You gave away that right when you opened your legs and let that slime-ball in! If I hear you say anything like that to me again so help me you will not like what happens.”
“Felix,” she wept, “what can I do to make it better?”
“Nothing,” I hissed, leveling my finger in her face. “Nothing, Rayne. It's over. You disgust me. I can barely look at you right now without vomiting all over the floor. You cheated on me and you lied about it! You spat on everything that I thought was true about our relationship. Five years, Rayne. Five! You have no respect for anyone or anything and believe me if I could kick you out right now I would. I would not hesitate for a moment.”
At that point I was done. I didn't feel like she'd had enough, but I was done listening to her sobbing, because it was all self-serving. If she had cared she wouldn't have done it. If it was a one-time affair I might have believed she was sorry, but they had been screwing for months, and she had been hiding and lying and there was no excuse. There was no forgiveness for that.
I turned and went to my room, shutting the door and wishing desperately that we had a working lock. She gave me some space until around ten that night when she knocked timidly asking for her things. I grabbed a handful of clothes, not paying attention to what I had in my hands, and her pillow, and shoved them at her. I didn't look at her and didn't give her a second to speak.
I shut the door again and flopped down on the bed, letting out a heavy sigh. I wanted out so badly, but I was stuck. I didn't know how to make it work so she could be gone and that was the part that was killing me.
Buy it on Amazon:
Buy it on Create Space:
October 14, 2012
Introducing 'Europa Rising' by Sean MacUisdin
In the depths of space, millions of kilometres beyond Jupiter, the European cruiser, Onbevreesd, detects an extraordinary signal. Two days after she alters course to investigate, the ship disappears and so occurs the catalyst that begins a chain of events that will endanger the entire human race.
Commander Charles Kwetche is appointed to the elderly NASA frigate, Cabot; his mission, investigate the disappearance of the Onbevreesd beyond the Jovian system. As he probes into the loss, Kwetche finds an unnerving mystery involving the exobiological expedition of an industrial conglomerate on Europa; the alarming actions of a rogue United Nations cruiser, and the mysterious signal aimed at Europa.
Europa Rising is available on Amazon, Ibooks, Sony Books, Diesel Books, Smashwords, Barnes & Noble and Kobo.
http://www.amazon.com/Europa-Rising-ebook/dp/B0056PFTTQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1315497387&sr=8-1
“This is an excellent book! Sean takes his knowledge of military science and translates it to near future outer space travel. He builds the suspense of the novel by incorporating the time required to travel between action points in the storyline.” – Gordon McCague
”An excellent first novel. The style is fast and focused on the plot but with a superb eye to just the right and just enough characterization to keep you engaged with the people who inhabit these future warships. And there was just enough technical detail to give the sense the ships and their crew are real and this is a future just a few years from now. I literally lost a night to this book – I simply could not put it down once I started.” -Skipper1 on Amazon.com
“MacUisdin has a knack for action scenes, and these, for me, are a highlight of his writing. Whether it’s the complex navigation and engineering of a battle between two ships, or a rough-and-tumble long gun shootout aboard a vessel, MacUisdin’s narrative is bang on.” – Adam La Rusic.
This is Sean's first novel, a full length military sci-fi with a hint of techno-thriller mixed in. It is also a near future look at the Terran expansion into space with multi-national conglomerates and resource driven governments driving the rapid movement beyond the inner solar system. Europa Rising is also an examination of that life in space where weeks and months of travel in cold enclosed environments are marked by wearying repetitive routine in a lonely and very unforgiving environment.
Please enjoy this novel and watch out for the sequel, Jupiter Rising, coming out December 2012.
Enjoy Sean's website at:
October 13, 2012
Introducing Tahlia Newland's 'Lethal Inheritance'
Young Adult Contemporary Fantasy - 'Lethal Inheritance'
The big news is that Lethal Inheritance, the YA contemporary fantasy novel that set Tahlia Newland on her career as a writer is finally available for you to read. At this stage it’s only available on ebook and will only be made available on paperback if there is sufficient demand –that’s the new world of publishing folks. http://tahlianewland.com/2012/10/11/l...
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Here’s the blurb:
If last night was real, Ariel should be dead. She’s not, but her mother has disappeared, there are bruises on her neck and the hideous beast in the photo looks frighteningly familiar.
You can’t send police into a tunnel that doesn’t exist after a villain they can’t see, so when shadow demons kidnap her mother, Ariel has to mount the rescue mission herself. Hot on the trail, she enters a hidden layer of reality only to find that the demons are hunting her, and they feed on fear. Ariel must defeat them before they kill her and enslave her mother. But how do you kill terrifying demons when your fear makes them stronger?
A quirky old guide teaches her how to locate and unleash her inner power, and while battling hallucinogenic mist, treacherous terrain, murderous earth spirits and self-doubt, she falls in love with Nick, a Warrior whose power is more than either of them can handle.
Ariel’s journey challenges her perception, tests her awareness and takes her deep into her heart and mind to confront, and ultimately transcend, her fear and anger.
What readers are saying
Geoff, an avid reader of YA Fantasy , ‘I have read a lot of fantasy and I consider this outstanding. It is so exciting and surprising that I didn’t want to put it down. I could never guess what would happen next. It’s a great adventure story bursting with wonder and magic and has an excellent ending.’
Published author, Peter McAra - ‘When I first read Lethal Inheritance, I was hooked. I saw it as a brand new take on vampires and werewolves. Now we have demons – they’re a lot more revolting and unpredictable than mere vampires. The mother/daughter connection in the story is different and interesting too. The more I read, the more involved I got. The style is pretty addictive – new and powerful, but recognisably young-adult-speak – anything but stereotyped. Lethal Inheritance has an intriguing pace of its own. ‘
Laurie Stiller, published YA author - ‘Its a really good yarn . I got quite caught up in it. It’s inventive and new! The plot is great – always something new and exciting.
Catherine Hammond, editor and ex publisher – ‘Not only is its imaginary world intriguing but it poses for its teenage protagonist a sinister threat and an overwhelming challenge, as well as a possible new love. One quirky element is the tangible effect of letting fear take over, which poses the question: what feeds on your fear? The mountain demons to conquer, the skills to learn and the barriers to overcome are all intrinsically tied to the inner life. These parallels and other highly original features make this speculative fiction book — the first in a projected series – an absorbing read.’
Special offer
If you purchase Lethal Inheritance at the US Kindle Store or the UK Kindle store before the end of the 14th October (this Sunday) and email the receipt to CP@centrepieceproductions.com you’ll receive A Matter of Perception free of charge.
For more information and to buy Tahlia's book, go here: http://tahlianewland.com/the-novel/
October 12, 2012
Would you like this book?
No, it’s not a how-to on gardening or weeding. (My neighbours will attest to the fact that I could NEVER give advice on getting rid of weeds…)
The Truth about Dandelions is the story of a young woman trying to like herself. But she’s having trouble, you know, since she’s a bit of a slut. She doesn’t want to be a slut. She doesn’t even like sex! But she’s caught in a downward spiral and she has no idea how to break out of it.
It’s not really her fault. Her childhood sucked. Her father was a religious zealot who cheated on her mother. Her mother, in turn, became jaded and bitter. This girl, (Mara is her name) received way more than her fair share of tragedies.
And so she muddles through university life hating herself, until she meets Jack. (No, he’s not a vampire or a were-whatever; he’s a computer programmer, he’s shy, he’s handsome, and… he’s a virgin.) With Jack’s help, she starts to learn how to let go of her own bitterness, but old habits are hard to break.…
You will not like this book if:
- you hate classic literature, particularly Charlotte Bronte
- you hate Richard Dawkins or people who criticize organized religion
- you get uncomfortable hearing about the brutal side of life
You WILL like this book if:
- you like questioning why people act they way they do
- you can hold two opposing views in your mind at the same time and not explode
- you can watch a person make mistake after mistake and still give them another chance
The Truth about Dandelions is now on sale for 99 cents, but only until the end of October. DON’T WAIT! Download your copy at:
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/...
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008A3JVQI
And if you don’t already have an e-reader, join the 21st century and GET ONE!!
The Truth about Dandelions
Today I would like to tell anyone who might be reading this blog about my recently released novel, The Truth about Dandelions.
No, it’s not a how-to on gardening or weeding. (My neighbours will attest to the fact that I could NEVER give advice on getting rid of weeds…;)
The Truth about Dandelions is the story of a young woman trying to like herself. But she’s having trouble, you know, since she’s a bit of a slut. She doesn’t want to be a slut. She doesn’t even like sex! But she’s caught in a downward spiral and she has no idea how to break out of it.
It’s not really her fault. Her childhood sucked. Her father was a religious zealot who cheated on her mother. Her mother, in turn, became jaded and bitter. This girl, (Mara is her name) received way more than her fair share of tragedies.
And so she muddles through university life hating herself, until she meets Jack. (No, he’s not a vampire or a were-whatever; he’s a computer programmer, he’s shy, he’s handsome, and… he’s a virgin.) With Jack’s help, she starts to learn how to let go of her own bitterness, but old habits are hard to break.…
You will not like this book if:
- you hate classic literature, particularly Charlotte Bronte
- you hate Richard Dawkins or people who criticize organized religion
- you get uncomfortable hearing about the brutal side of life
You WILL like this book if:
- you like questioning why people act they way they do
- you can hold two opposing views in your mind at the same time and not explode
- you can watch a person make mistake after mistake and still give them another chance
The Truth about Dandelions is on sale for 99 cents starting on October 15, but only until October 31. DON’T WAIT!
Download your copy at
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/...
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008A3JVQI
And if you don’t already have an e-reader, join the 21st century and GET ONE!!
October 1, 2012
Do You Think Your Writing is Crap?
Do you think your writing is crap?
Never admit your insecurities. That’s a rule, right? Haven’t they been drilling that into our heads since some do-gooder way back in the eighties decided that students needed pep talks from inspirational speakers. So come on, everyone! Put on your well-worn mask of confidence. (It sits on the dresser between your mask of enthusiasm and your mask of extroversion.)
Well enough of that. The mask pinches my nose and it makes me cranky. I’m here to admit straight up that sometimes – not always mind you – but sometimes I’m pretty sure every single thing I’ve ever written, both published and unpublished, is complete and utter crap.
(Including this blog posting. So keep reading if you’re interested in crap.)
Just this weekend I had the honour of being awarded First Prize in the Alice Munro Short Story Competition. You’d think this win would be just the pep talk I needed to gain some confidence in myself as a writer. Of course not! Our insecurities are deeply rooted, as is my distrust of authority figures, including Literary Judges.
Surely they got it wrong, or else I won simply because I set the story in Alice-Munro-country, that beautiful agricultural community to the east of Lake Huron. And please don’t tell me I won because I hail from Alice-Munro-country. At least I was told the judging was blind.
I told my husband my misgivings and he scoffed. You won because you’re a good writer. But when I reread my winning story I found entire sections that I would have edited and changed. As much praise as I received for this short story, I’m not overly proud of it. I’m not ashamed of it. Parts of it are quite good. But it doesn’t make me proud.
I’ve written other stories of which I’m far more proud, but these stories haven’t received any of the praise that my Alice-Munro-setting short story has received. Maybe these other stories just haven’t found their target audience, or maybe it’s their potential that I’m proud of but just haven’t worked on them enough yet.
Or maybe I’m wrong in what I think is good writing.
Or maybe, just maybe, those annoying inspirational speakers have it all wrong. Maybe the danger is in thinking that your writing is any good. Maybe, in order to be really good at writing, you have to be convinced that you’re not. Isn’t over-confidence a sure way to fail? Didn’t Aesop and the hare teach us that when we were in kindergarten?
Mary Wolfe, a former bookstore owner and dear friend of Ms. Munro, said in her keynote address at the banquet that one of Ms. Munro’s fears is that at some point, perhaps after her death, people will finally figure out that she’s not the great writer they all believe her to be.
I took heart in that. Not to put words in her mouth, but if Alice Munro sometimes thinks her work is crap, then it’s only natural that the rest of us should too.
Of course I realize that having zero confidence is a sure way to fail as well, but I think we can all use a bit of realism in our lives.
So here’s to thinking your writing’s crap! I think it might be the only way to become great.
