March 11th, 2009

Be a friend to books!

I’m going to start doing the occasional guest post over at my publisher’s blog, Thirsty, and to kick things off on the right foot, I’ve done a little photo essay on how to be kind to the books in your life. It’s called Books Are Our Friends!! and I am sure you already know all my hints and tips, but perhaps you would like a little refresher?? I hope you enjoy it!!

We ain’t gonna live forever
RR

March 4th, 2009

Incorrection

I don’t talk to myself. Unless startled by a bat or struck by a heavy object, I never feel a need to make any sort of sound when alone. Despite *many* defensive folks who have told me talking to oneself is a normal way to process information, I find it odd. It’s not like I don’t have plenty of commentary on every millisecond that goes by. But I can hear my own commentary just fine from, you know, inside my head. Also, I receive very little new information in this way; surprise surprise. Most of what I think is boring; no need to give it wider broadcast.

Actually, maybe this post is boring interior thoughts too. But slightly less boring than most interior thoughts. Anyway.

What is surprising is a new trend in my interior monologue, one that I really don’t think I thought up for myself. The past few months, screw-ups have been accompanied by the (silent) word “Incorrect” inside my brain. More recently, the word has come to have a visual of red block letters spelling it out: INCORRECT.

Harsh.

Lest you think I am having some sort of self-esteem spiral, the “incorrect” signal mainly flashes for small failures, ones that can be easily identified: opening the wrong software from my desktop, walking into the coat closet instead of the bathroom (not in own home), putting metal in the microwave. Doesn’t appear for major life decisions, wardrobe choices, consumer purchases–nothing with a lot of subjective leeway. A dozen people could have a different opinion on the story’s new ending or my new haircut, but you’re either standing in the coat closet or you aren’t.

Anyway, this post has little point, and probably should have remained interior, but I always find it curious when my brain does something all on it’s own without my bidding, and felt like sharing. Since this is likely *not* internally generated, I’m wondering if I picked it up from a book? A movie? This new mental quirk has no footnote. If you know where I stole it from, please share!

Note: My dislike of talking aloud to oneself should not be confused with the much more congenial concept of the “exterior monologue,” a term coined by the mighty AMT. The exterior monologue occurs when normal censors are turned off inside the brain, usually by nervousness, alcohol, or happy comfort with the audience. Then one just says everything that comes into one’s head. You’ve seen it happen, but it’s fun only in the last two contexts (usually), and even then only if you, like AMT, are thoroughly entertaining, inside and out.

Note 2: I also breathe silently and wear rubber-soled shoes; if it weren’t for clumsiness and cowardice, I would make an excellent stealth agent.

Just believe that I need you
RR

February 21st, 2009

Sometimes

Sometimes, I become so upset at my teetering stacks of books and papers (commented one recent guest, “You’re busy!” me: “Or should be!”), email queue and general failure of productivity, that I resolve to scale back on all frolic, forthwith. Which is of course the signal for an eruption of amazing frolicking opportunities amongst my friends and acquaintances. Thus, last night spent on the announcement of the Descant Winston/Collins poetry prize (congrats to all the long- and short-listers, and to Descant for the amazing bash) and later on guitar harmonies and silliness (I sure know the words to a lot of bad songs). And then today, between the yoga and the photo shoot and writing this very important blog post, I had amazing things planned, workwise…which didn’t quite happen. And in a few hours, I have to go out for Mexican food!! How do these things happen?

Something, obviously, has to scale back. Don’t worry, it probably won’t be this blog; does a junkie ever get too busy to shoot up? I fear it’s sleep.

Wake up
The house is on fire
And the cat’s caught in the drier
RR

February 20th, 2009

Dulce de leche

#1–(describes delicious dulce de leche filled pastry he bought once in a store)

Me–I once saw a recipe for that where you just take a can of sweetened condensed milk and boil it in a pan of water for hours. That’s it! So simple.

#1–Hmmm…interesting.

#2–You know, a lot of pressure can build up in that can, and sometimes they can explode. You have to time it really carefully. How long do you boil it for?

Me–Dunno. But I’m sure it said in the recipe.

#3–Maybe you should open the can a little bit, so that steam can escape?

#2–No, it has to be in the sealed can for it to work. But then if it explodes there’s all this busted metal coated with boiling sticky milk flying around. You could get really hurt.

Me–I’m sure that mostly doesn’t happen. In general.

#2–I’m worried about you specifically doing this.

Me–I wasn’t going to do it. I just mentioned it cause *he* said–

#3–I don’t want you to do this, Rebecca. You can buy dulce de leche in a can.

#4–A can that doesn’t need to be cooked.

Me–Guys, guys, I’m not going to try to make anything that involves boiling syrup under pressure. I know my limits. Last night I was talking on the phone and I fell off the couch.

#2–That’s a relief.

#3–Good!

#1–You failed at sitting!

Me–Yes, I suppose I did. Thanks for phrasing it just that way.

January 27th, 2009

Nice

So many joys! Tomorrow night, I get to see Kerry read her story “Squash Season” alongside Stuart Ross and James Sandham at Pivot at the Press Club. Yesterday, Ragdoll posted a lovely *Once* review on My Tragic Right Hip. And today my inbox delivered my New Quarterly E-exclusive, as well as news that TNQ 109 For Some Unknown Reason and Anyhow is on its way to me! I’m excited for poetry, fiction, and notes on the long short story (so dear to my heart). I’m in a TNQ-y mood, since I’ve just been editing my essay, “Stuff They Wrote,” for issue #110, so this news comes at a good time indeed!

It’d be weird
RR

December 29th, 2008

Hooray for real life

Ah, holidays are nice but so is real life–onward!

Pasha Malla defines love (via Fred).

The Ideal Tiger walks alone.

I read with Mike Smith and Kathleen Phillips at Strong Words at the Gladstone Hotel on January 19.

I been on the road too long to sympathize
RR

December 26th, 2008

Gifts

Of *course* Christmas is not really about pretty objects wrapped in pretty paper, much as I do like such things. I occasionally lose track of what Christmas *is* about, it not really being historically my family’s holiday, much as we do like it now. Mainly, it’s just a time of year when kindness as well as prettiness seems more apt to happen, and to be accompanied by friendliness and food and frolic. La! This year, a few of the gifts I received:

–orange scarf with *curly tassels*
–hugs
–glitter cards
–apple-flavoured KitKat
–baking support (because as soon as a ruler, a candy thermometer, “egg wash” or extreme patience is called for in the recipe, I can’t do it by myself)
–lunch at Allen’s
–Deborah Eisenberg’s *Twilight of Superheroes*
–thoughtful review in The Westmount Examiner
–out-of-town friends in town
–baby pictures
–Bill Murray in *Scrooged*
–Christmas carols on every station on FM radio (I listened for about 2 days, which is about right. I firmly believe that people who hate Christmas carols have just been over-exposed).
–new hoop earrings to replace the ones I wrecked 1.5 years ago and never got ’round to buying for myself
–somewhere in the depths of Canada Post right now, a mixed tape
–the happy realization I can finally get my foot above my head (though only if I am leaning on a wall/fridge/car)
–leisure time and naps
–fancy tea towels
–tidings of comfort and joy

I hope it was very similarly wonderful in your neck of the woods.

Star of wonder / star of night
RR

PS–What are we celebrating on Boxing Day?

November 20th, 2008

Good List

1) Apple bread from Cobbs.
2) Pretty sparkly snowfall before you’re sick of it (give me another two weeks).
3) Not getting hit by a car (so far), on this, the worst driving day of the year.
4) Brilliant Kerry Clare takes her Passion for Reading to Ottawa (this is more good for the citizens of Ottawa than me, since I can’t go; lucky citizens!!).
5) Coming Attractions 08 now in select bookstores, with a bestiary on the front, and stories by Daniel Griffin, Alice Petersen and myself. A gorgeous little book!

Another place that’s really swish
RR

November 14th, 2008

Sleep camel

I learned that term from the Idler’s Glossary, in a discussion about those who will *not* idle, who make a contest of activity and reserve leisure for unconsciousness. A sleep camel is one who stays up to all hours during the week, usually in order to work extremely hard, and then crashes out all weekend.

I am very fond of sleeping, and try to do as much as possible, and yet I find myself more and more verging on the camel-type, popping out of bed bright-eyed on Mondays, only to be red-eyed and whiny come Friday. It’s not *exactly* that I’m a hard worker though; more that I am an average worker who works on several different things, and also does a lot of random but entertaining non-work whenever the opportunity presents itself. For instance, this week I stayed up very late every night, doing the following:

Monday–Saw taping of So You Think You Can Dance, Canada? (go, Izaac!!) followed by work.
Tuesday–Read in support of Harold Hoefle‘s launch of the *The Mountain Clinic*, followed by hanging out at the bar, followed by work.
Wednesday–Fancy dinner with friends, followed by insufficient amount of work.
Thursday–Work.

What has happened to my life? It is full of frolic, obviously, but also marked sleep debt. I have to manage my time better. Or have less fun. Or something I’m too tired to think of right now. Whatever. Don’t call too late tonight is I think my point.

You overthink
RR

November 8th, 2008

Adults in the eyes of the community

Here’s P. and I exiting the bar (bat) mitzvah machine. I post this because I know some wanted to see what it looked like, and this is sort of a poor shot of everything, but it’s the best I can do. And it does show us having fun, which is always a nice thing to have a picture of!