It’s a process not an event…

I didn’t get the Ontario Arts Council grant. Fuck em if they don’t know a great thing. Well maybe a good thing, but one day it could be great.

Is there time to write and fix the world too?

Was listening to CBC the other day as I was driving home from Canadian Tire with a trunk full of potentially toxic items - blow-up boat, beach umbrella, picture frame hooks, Twizzlers, freezer containers, and heard Sandra Steingraber (a biologist, cancer survivor and environmental activist focused on toxins and kids) being interviewed about her latest book Raising Elijah

To the man who astounds and confounds me - Happy Father’s Day!

I’ve had a complicated and fraught relationship with my dad and often wonder why it is we still talk to each other. We fight about everything from the political to the practical – from feminism, to most aspects of how I run my day to day life, to why my front door is hard to open – “But it’s my front door dad!” My brothers and I all benefit from the jack-hammer-like insight he is incapable of not sharing. He claims to be an equal opportunity critic.

It doesn’t have to be perfect it just has to be great

Talked in my last blog piece about Huffpo’s Complete Guide to Blogging rule perfection is the enemy of done. I love that line. Wish I’d coined it myself. I secretly think I should have been in communications or advertising. I’ve come up with some great slogans and one-liners over the years.

Feeding the Beast

Was reading the Huffington Post's Complete Guide to Blogging. Some might argue it’s dated -3 yrs in the online world is a lifetime - but it tells great stories, offers fine tips - some obvious but worth revisiting, and speaks with humour and intelligence to what I consider the relatively unchanging business of getting started.

While you were sleeping

One of the good things about getting older (and I understand there are one or two) is that I need less and less sleep.

Here I am: Reject me.

Note: This is about literary rejection. I’ll save the other form for the memoir.

Last fall I applied for 16 Ontario Arts Council (OAC) Writer’s Reserve Grants. They require submissions directly to publishers that act as third party recommenders. I could have applied for 35. I decided to be selective and save on stamps and large envelopes.

“Read through the list carefully and pick the ones that sound like a fit,” my friend Rachel Zolf, an award-winning poet, told me. “Don’t worry about getting rejected. It’s part of the deal. I’ve been rejected tons of times.”

Eat, love, write – then pray

While writing about writing is still writing I thought I’d describe what else I’m writing. It's a memoir made up of short stories that aim to capture the humour, heartache and universality of changing directions, missing clear signs and making and repeating silly choices. It tracks the adventures and misadventures of my heart, on road and off-road. I know it sounds a bit self-helpish but that’s NOT the intention.

Space – the final frontier

Now that I’m no longer at work where I had my own cubicle I’ve struggled to sort out the geography part of my writing. I live in a tall, thin Victorian house, over a hundred years old with my girlfriend and my two kids. While there are a fair number of rooms, all of them are spoken for.

The truth about technology and me.

I proudly call myself a luddite, laughingly label myself a techno-wiener but really I’m embarrassed by my lack of technical savvy. It’s grounded in a set of fears that run long and deep, a complete lack of interest, and a sense of anxiety and exhaustion that comes over me whenever I am pointed to a set of technical instructions.