Into the desert

It’s not a metaphor. I’m in Arizona. Not quite the wandering-for-forty-years, Ben Hur, Bugs-Bunny-mirage-enducing, camel-train- type desert – more like urban sprawl, anti-immigrant sentiment enshrined in law, and forced lawns, green with better-used-elsewhere water, plunked in the middle of saguaro cactuses and mini-mountains that from a distance could easily be mistaken for large piles of dirt and rubble, waiting to be used for landscaping projects.

Just because there’s nothing to write doesn’t mean you shouldn’t write it

There was going to come a day when I had nothing blogworthy to say, when the fiddly administrative details of my day to day life were sitting their fat asses on my creative spirit, blocking my wind pipe. But you know what? Today is not going to be that day. And you know what else?  The fact that I’m swamped, overwhelmed and still in my pyjamas mid-day, ready to rip my head off, is blogworthy.

I know an old lady who swallowed a fly…

So here’s the trajectory. I take a year off to work on a novel and short memoir pieces. Then I start a blog in order to put something out there, get some attention. To push traffic to the blog I post my work and comments on facebook. Now in order to get more traffic to FB and the blog I’m told I should tweet.

Solitary Confinement

I’ve always been a very social person. Alone, I’m more inclined to phone someone to chat than I am to, say, think about things. I mean I like to think about things, but I’ll quickly call a friend or my mom to run it by them. Indeed this leaves the things I think about only so profound. How deep can you go if you’re constantly popping up to report on progress?

Writerly addictions and the evils of envy

In response to a funny and revelatory conversation my friend Lola had with herself about whether she was drinking too much, shared with those of us in her blogosphere (photo included), I felt compelled to w

Take a minute

When Jian Ghomeshi gave his preamble on CBC's Q the other day - set, as always, to evocative Enya-like music - he talked about the season, why it's magical, and why we should make it a time for reflection and gratitude. A time to look beyond the frenzy at the mall and take stock. He asked that we hear him out, lest we assume he’d simply fallen prey to the seasonal warm and fuzzies.

Tis the season

One day the writing about writing police will come knocking and tell me I’ve taken too many liberties with this blog. But until then…

Good lessons from assholes

Why can't we learn the lesson that cookie cutter dogma and political fidelity will rarely serve us well in identifying tyranny, then fighting it? 

Firing off in all directions or Avoiding one basket

This isn’t the first time I’ve discussed my compulsion to genre hop. Nothing as dire as drug or alcohol addiction. Maybe more akin to buying too many shoes. I self-diagnosed, and  determined I have Distraction Compulsion Disorder (DCD). But focused DCD.

Jesus Is Coming

For those of you who have been waiting for a story I will give you this little one. It went in to the Aspen short short story competition. It lined up, I’m told, against 4,500 others, which made me feel good.