February 17th, 2011

Rose-coloured reviews a nice day (and the movie *Somewhere*)

After finishing a stressful project at work, I’m taking a few days off to rest, read, write, and bum around. It’s magically warm in the city right now, and I have a busy weekend ahead, so it’s been really nice to float around in my own happy cloud. I get sick of my own company though–I’m much less of a solitaire than writers are supposed to be. So midafternoon today I headed out to a Starbucks, hoping to write there and also eavesdrop on a few angst-ridden teens (yes, I timed my excursion to coincide with school getting out).

I was totally not in luck, winding up in a cafe filled with sullen old people (“You’re sitting in my seat. I left my things there!” pointing to a stir stick) and shrieking toddlers. I wound up between two fellow laptop jockeys, so had no choice but to work for a while. Then I lucked out when an old woman passing in the street glanced in the window, spotted the fellow beside me and came in (Toronto is far more like a small town than most people give it credit for). I think she was his mother, and they proceeded to get into an argument about whether he was doing enough to help his brother find an apartment. Then they looked at some places on Craigslist, but nothing was really resolved. Then she left, and we all got back to work.

Starbucks bonus–on my way out, I finally found a table of young teens and as I passed, one who was *maybe* 14 dropped her head into her hands and exclaimed, “Worst life *ever*!”

Then I did a little gift shopping for a friend, and went to have dinner in a food court. While I was eating my ginger chicken, a man and a woman approached me to ask if I would take their picture. There was nothing scenic about this underground food court (why, yes, I *am* happy with how I’m spending my vacation, thank you), so I guess they just wanted to be captured together. They both spoke imperfect English, but she was Asian and he maybe Middle Eastern. They were unhappy with the first shot, and really also the second though they were too embarrassed to ask me to take a third (I wouldn’t have minded). I thought they were a couple, but as they were walking a way, I heard her ask him for his email address. What was their story, I wonder.

Then I went to the bathroom, and as I entered a woman brushed past me on her way out. The woman behind her announced, “You have toilet paper on your shoe” in an Irish accent (ok, honestly, she could’ve been Australian or Maritime Canadian–I’m terrible with accents). The first woman did not stop and, slightly put out, the possibly Irish woman chased her into the hallway yelled, “YOU HAVE TOILET PAPER ON YOUR SHOE!” before coming back in to wash her hands. In this very same bathroom, I also witnessed a woman scrubbing her hands as if preparing to perform surgery, whilst singing a merry tune.

Then I grabbed some mango frozen yoghurt and went to the movies to see Somewhere. I’d read a review that said the film revisits director Sophia Coppola’s obsession with celebrity, but I always thought she was obsessed with people. Sure, Lost in Translation was about people touched by fame, but it was also about being stuck in your own stupid skin, which is what The Virgin Suicides was about (VS is also one of the few movies that comes close to being as enrapturing as the book on which it is based. Close.)

Anyway, stupid reviews aside, I knew I would like a quiet movie about a dad and his kid set in sunny LA, and I was right. This movie is a gentle confection, sweet not like sacchrine but like cherries. It’s about the theme mentioned above, but also about the simple solace of *doing things*–characters in this movie drive cars, ice skate, dance, play piano, play Wii and Guitar Hero, play ping-pong, cook, make masks, play guitar, and do a host of other things that require attention, often for minutes-long takes. It’s lovely to watch the characters shake off their misery (no one’s particularly happy here) and immerse themselves in the task at hand. This is also the first time I’ve ever seen video games portrayed in the movies as not the refuge of sullen dolts, but lots of fun. A milestone, I think.

The movie has no soundtrack until the 80-minute mark (I happened to glance at my watch), so we hear what the characters hear. They listen to music sometimes, whole songs even, but incidental noise looms really large, especially since there’s little dialogue. In the pole-dancing scenes, you hear the rub of flesh on pole, and in the Guitar Hero one, the click of keys.

Since the stars, Stephen Dorff and Elle Fanning play it *way* understated, the cinemetography is the real star here, and the film is glorious to watch. All kinds of weird shot of models watching down the hall silhouette by the sun behind them, or the stars goofing about underwater. There was also a mysterious theme about plaster that I didn’t really get. Early in the movie, Dorff’s character Johnny breaks his wrist and spend most of the rest of the film with it in a cast, which he rips off towards the end–symbolism of butterfly emerging from chrysalis?? God, I hope not. Johnny also has a plaster cast made of his face for some movie special effects thing (never explained) and a cast of his hand made when he is welcomed to Milan (again, not really sure why). If anyone knows what the plaster theme meant, please let me know.

But really, who cares? This was such a quiet, gorgeous, incredibly sad film–this was the sort of film I would make if I could. I didn’t care too much for the epiphany at the end, but I suppose they had to give us something.

And then I trotted home, typed this up, and will write a few other little things, before cheerfully to bed. Tomorrow I’m trying a new ballet class!

January 21st, 2011

Rice Pudding

I have been thinking about gender lately, mainly because I’ve run into a number of books and movies that make some unfortunate generalizations. Then last night’s meeting of the ever-excellent Women’s Writing Salon touched on smallness in the context of domestic and quotidian detail, and are those things either trivialized or thought of as “women’s” in the public consciousness? And if so, do we care?

I left early for my three-bus trip home, but I believe we were arriving at “meh” (anyone who stayed later should correct me if I’m wrong): You have to write about what you care enough to write about, and it’s the skill and sensitivity of the writer that makes the text “big” or “small.”

Anyway, that’s about as far as I can get with the issue, and this blog is pink and I haven’t worn pants in public in 3 years, so if you were going to judge me for being too “feminine,” you probably already have (and stopped reading the blog??) So here’s a really good recipe for rice pudding:

Into a big, deep greased casserole dish, put
4 cups skim milk
3 tablespoons brown rice
1/3 cup brown sugar (or less)
1/2 teaspoon salt
nutmeg if you’re into nutmeg

Stir, then put into a 300 F oven. Stir every 20 minutes for the first hour, then every hour or so until you’ve either reached a total of 3.5 hours, or it looks about the consistency you’d like to eat. Then do so.

This is a great writer’s recipe, because it’s barely any work but it forces you to stay home and write for an entire afternoon, instead of say, getting bored and wandering off to the movies. Of course, there might be some people who leave the house with the oven on if they know they’ll be back before it’s done, but I always worry I’ll get hit by a bus and then not only will I be in the hospital but my building will burn down.

Anyway, you stay home, you stir occasionally, you get lots of work done, and then you are rewarded with the best rice pudding in the world. The only probably is that it boils down to only about 2 cups, so though the recipe says serves 4-6 (I’ve adapted this from Fannie Farmer’s Cookbook), only if most of those 6 don’t really like rice pudding. You get either four small lunch-sized portions, or two generous ones. Not that most people think that a romantic dinner-a-deux should be capped off with rice pudding–but I do. Actually, I’ve never suceeded in sharing my rice pudding with anyone; I always eat it all before anyone worthy shows up!

January 13th, 2011

Idiot

Note: this is probably one of those posts that I need to write but you don’t need to read.

So Thursdays are my writing-at-home day, and today I am allegedly finishing up the last edits on *The Big Dream*. So I decided that while I was working, I would cook some stuff that doesn’t require a lot of attention, and then when I was finished with the manuscript and very depressed and anxious at having nothing further to do (this is what happens to me) I would at least have things to eat.

On the menu were roasted chickpeas and a baked rice pudding. I put the chickpeas on to boil (which is the first step on that project) and the pudding casserole in the oven. Last time I boiled chickpeas they foamed all over, so this time I put in a little vegetable oil so they’d behave. You’re supposed to stir the pudding 3x in the first hour, so the rice doesn’t clump together, and on one of the stirs I spilled a little milk on the floor of the oven. I couldn’t figure out how to clean it up, the oven being hot and all, so I just thought I’d let it burn off. The chickpeas were merrily steaming in their pot, not foaming at all. Genius, that vegetable oil trick.

I got back to work and noticed that the apartment was getting a little smoky. “There goes that milk!” I thought. I worked more. The apartment was wreathed in smoke, a lot more than you’d think for just a few drops of milk. Just as I was considering this, the smoke alarm went off.

I ran to the mysterious clump of alarms in my hallway–3 of them, one I think possibly for carbon monoxide. I tried turning off all three, but nothing changed. I got down of my chair and turned off the oven, opened the window a little (it’s *cold* out) and got back on my chair. The alarms are REALLY REALLY LOUD so I I alternate one finger in one ear while trying to pry open an alarm to get the batteries out with the other. I finally get one open; it doesn’t have a battery. Good to know.

My neighbour comes over to see if I’m ok. I apologize, say I’m fine. I try waving a pillow at the smoke (saw it in a movie once) and give up on being warm and open the window all the way. Still like being inside a police siren. I put on my shoes and run downstairs to look for the super, but she is absent. I go back up (you can hear my alarm from the basement), prop the door open with the chair and go back to waving my pillow. The neighbour comes back (poor guy) to suggest I try a hair dryer. I think this is brilliant, run to get it, then realize there is no power outlet near the alarm. Then I try to move the couch to expose a socket, and wrench my shoulder extremely painfully. Then I lie on the couch and think about crying, or else about abandoning my home. Except I’m really in too much pain to get far, so I plug in the hair dryer and realize I’m still too far away. So I got try plugging it in in the kitchen, and turn off the chickpeas while I’m there. Perhaps the alarm is confusing their steam with smoke?

I blow-dry for awhile, and finally the damn thing stops. So I shut the door, and go to stir the chickpeas before I turn them back on. You probably guessed it before I did–the chickpeas were black because somehow all their water had boiled off, so that *was* smoke, not steam. Apparently, my olfactory sensors, so keen on other matters (“Did you change shampoo?”) cannot detect burning chickpeas. I am giant idiot, and will not be getting roast chickpeas this evening. Also, my apartment is freezing and smelly, and my shoulder hurts, and my neighbour probably hates me.

I will think of the silver lining tomorrow.

January 4th, 2011

New Year’s Resolutions and Reverb 31

What central story is at the core of you, and how do you share it with the world? (www.reverb10.com)

I was right that Reverb kind of went beyond my energy for self-reflection–I’ve been dragging my feet on this last prompt and my resolutions. I think I give up on the prompt–stories have endings and I do not like to see things in my life as ending, just changing (or, even better, staying exactly the same for ever). I think I am in the middle of my story and therefore can’t really narrativize to accurately. Or at least, that’s my excuse.

Ok, resolutions–these aren’t too creative (see above self-reflection exhaustion) but I think they’ll do me.

Resolutions Everyone Makes

1. Eat healthfully. Duh. I don’t see a year coming when I think I could get away with constantly eating Menthos and Tostitos. Specifically, I’m doing another 2-week detox as of today, and unless this one goes way better than the last, thereafter junking the detox concept entirely. Following that, I’ll just try to eat like a normal healthy person.
2. Beyond the health factor, I’m going to especially try to learn some new recipes–I get into food ruts. I don’t actually think I can manage more than one new recipe per week…maybe not even that. Let’s say…3 a month.
3. Exercise. Again duh. The specific aspect of this one for now is that I’m going to try to swim more, something that I love and forget about for years at a time. This one is subject to reevaluation, because I don’t currently live near a pool, but post-move, I might. Let’s say again, 3 swims a month, maybe.
4. Eat KFC popcorn chicken. In high school, this was the holy grail of junk food, but I have shunned it for years, based on rumours and heresay and the strong social stigma attached to being seen in a KFC. But no more–sometime this summer, I shall consume the unhealthiest of all foods once more. But only once.
4. Move. This has been on my agenda before, but never so firmly. This time, with feeling: before April 1, I will live somewhere else. Moreover, I will pack up/purge my stuff, get the appropriate stuff to Goodwill, transfer the phone/hydro/internet/mail, hire movers, and whatever the other million moving things are–without having a meltdown or being a jerk to anyone. My previous moves have been so stressful that I have declined friendly helpers for fear that I would be mean to them–I really have to get past this.
5. Return emails promptly. If it’s just a question that needs an answer (that I know), in less than a day. If it’s a social, so-how’ve-you-been email, less than two weeks. Also, take better measures to remove self from mailing lists and filter spam–I imagine less nonsense email will help me answer those that actually matter in a more timely manner.
6. Floss. You are probably not still reading this, but I need to be reminded of flossing. I have permanent retainers, which make flossing an evil nightmare, but I am not magically exempt from gum disease. How about…at *least* every other night?
7. Help. I have been the beneficiary of lots of niceness in the literary community–people have made me feel welcome, offered me cool opportunities and the chance to sit at the table with the big kids. However, though I feel myself an eternal bug-eyed kid, I have in fact been around a while, and perhaps could help out others. As someone pointed out recently, I have a responsibility to try to perpetuate the open friendly writing community that I want to live in. I’m not really sure what form this could take, but I’m open to whatever opportunity knocks (and suggestions).
8. Give to charity. In case you were wondering, I did manage to make up for my charitable failure–the money eventually went to Pen Canada, which I’m happy about, and a few other worthies. This is actually most organized I’ve ever been about giving, so resolution #8 is just a reminder to keep it up.
9. Don’t do everything. I cannot attend a lot of the fun events I want to and I need to stop fretting about it. I don’t live in the heart of downtown, work a lot, commute a lot, etc.–no one minds the excuses except me. I’m sure no one 9well, very few) minds when I can’t make it out to things–I should just accept that and get some sleep.
10. Write a new book. Well, part of one, anyway.

December 30th, 2010

Reverb 29 and the Freelance Lifestyle

Describe a defining moment or series of events that has affected your life this year.

(Author: Kathryn Fitzmaurice)

{Future tool: The 99%’s How to Budget for an Irregular Income. For the next 3 days as you round out your year, we’ll share one tool each day to help you plan your year ahead.}

Sigh. I really love the effort and enthusiasm behind Reverb, but I think maybe having 31 different authors contribute without knowing what others were doing was not the best way to organize–a lot of these prompts are very similar to each other. Since I’ve already shared my “alive” moment, and my “best ordinary” moment, I’m hard pressed to come up with a “defining” moment, so I think I’ll skip it. Perhaps other people’s lives are of more moment than mine (hahaha).

But I thought I’d point out the budget tool that’s included in today’s prompt is really useful (there have been other planning tools included with the Reverb package, but I haven’t been paying attention. If today’s tool is any indication, I should’ve.)

Ages ago, in the summertime when I was doing those “Jobs for Writers” posts, I believe I promised to have a guest post on freelancing. It never happened, mainly because experts I asked couldn’t spare the time–which should be a strong lesson about the freelancing lifestyle right there. I never wanted to write the whole post myself: I was only freelance for a year, and it was a slightly strange situation. I do also work with and administrate for freelancers now, but my advice on how they “should” do things may well be based on how to make things easiest for the employer, not the freelancer.

Nevertheless, I know enough about the freelance life to know that the budgeting post above is very interesting, and I think extremely useful for those who have already been at it a while and are reasonably successful, but have run into some cashflow glitches. However, if you were just getting started in the freelance world, this advice would be pretty useless to you–how would you know what your average income would be, or when things might be likely to take a dip? This 99% blog seems pretty good, so maybe there’s another post somewhere on getting started as a person with an “irregular income,” but there’s actually a few really gold bits of advice to novice freelancers hiding in this post. Allow me to pull them out for you:

The first year is difficult. You generally don’t have the ability to base your budget on averages or on the lowest income from the last twelve months. (I was able to do this because I’d been earning money before I quit to blog full-time.)

Yep, the most useful way start a freelance career is to wet your feet while you work somewhere else. Not happy news to those who hope to just dive right in, but it is extremely useful, both for being able to budget and project income/workflows, and just for building up clients. You can do this a couple ways–In Method A, you have a job you like and are good at. Once you’ve been there a while, and have proved your talents and reliability, you ask your employers if you can go freelance. This is different from “telecommuting” or “working from home,” in that it’s on an hourly basis, not salary, and not necessarily guaranteed work, but with a lot more flexibility. In Method B, you have a job you don’t much like (whether you are good at it or not), so you begin trying to find other gigs you can do on a piece basis, evenings and weekends. It takes a long time to get a client base of folks who trust and respect (and need) your work. In fact, it may take a long time to even have paying clients; many freelancers start getting their name out with volunteer projects and favours for friends. Once you’ve gotten pretty good at finding, doing, and getting paid for the work, you essentially have 2 jobs and can quit one, if you so desire.

Before I quit my “real” job to become a full-time blogger, I began to set aside a large sum of money as an emergency fund. I figured that if my income dropped below the minimum I needed to get by, I could tap the emergency fund to provide supplemental cash. With luck, I’d be able to ride out any rocky storms. (I’ve been fortunate to not have to do this.) When you have an irregular income, the bigger your emergency savings, the better.

Yep, you definitely have to do this if you don’t try one of the gradually freelance methods above, and even if you do ease into it–still recommended. Even super-crack much-beloved freelancers have dry months–that’s what’s scary /exciting about it, I guess.

—
Back to me–I think freelancing is an awesome way to balance a creative career with a more lucrative one, despite the fact it didn’t really work out for me when I tried it. Some of us really really like having conversations in the course of the day, especially if we’re going to write in the evening. Anyway, I think it’s an interesting career path, and if there’s any happy freelancers reading this who could volunteer to be interviewed or even write that guest post, I’d be very happy to hear from you!

December 26th, 2010

Christmas and Reverb 25

Hi all! I hope you had an excellent Christmas! I turned off the computer for more than 24 hours, and had a glorious one myself. Highlights included something called “bubble bread,” a catnip toy frenzy with the local kitten, a game of Scrabble at which I lost miserably, a beautiful new jacket from The Fairies’ Pyjamas, and many hugs and friendly people. The only real low point of the day came when I said in passing, while talking about something vaguely related over Christmas dinner that microwaves run on nuclear energy. There was a long silence after that–it turns out, they don’t. Shame ensues.

Ok, back to reverb:

Choose one that best captures you; either who you are, or who you strive to be. Find the shot of you that is worth a thousand words. Share the image, who shot it, where, and what it best reveals about you.

Me in the dressing room mirror in North Bay

This is me in the only dressing room I’ve ever been assigned, at the Capitol Theatre in North Bay, before my reading at Circus Wonderland. It’s me being “Wow, I’m a rock star, I have a dressing room” but also very obviously all alone, since I had to take the picture of myself in the mirror (There were, technically, a couple fellows asleep on the floor behind me, but I can’t really count us as being “together.”)

It’s me being wowed by one of the little flashes of glamour in the writing world as I know it, enjoying myself and yet not particularly enjoying the loneliness, longing for friends (and not just to take the picture). It’s interesting, this picture, and I don’t know exactly what it means, but definitely something, I think.

December 21st, 2010

Reverb 21

Imagine yourself five years from now. What advice would you give your current self for the year ahead? (Bonus: Write a note to yourself 10 years ago. What would you tell your younger self?) (Author: Jenny Blake) (www.reverb10.com)

I do not understand this question; surely, if I knew what would lead to the best outcome 10 years from now, I would be doing it. In fact, what I *am* doing now is my best guess at what *would* make my future self happy (except all those Quality Streets I just ate, which my 42-year-old self is probably none too impressed by).

I don’t at all understand what I’m supposed to write here–a fantasy where my 2021, rich and famous and wildly adored self congratulates me on fine work ethic and great ideas? Or something silly, about how bad my skin will be in 10 years if I keep consuming chocolate at this rate? I just don’t get it; my life at the moment reflects the best information I have.

December 20th, 2010

Reverb 20

What should you have done this year but didn’t because you were too scared, worried, unsure, busy or otherwise deterred from doing? (Bonus: Will you do it?) (Author: Jake Nickell) (www.reverb10.com)

If you want to get technical about it, I actually should have moved in the summer of 2005, when my commute changed because I went back to school. and certain other issues began to emerge with the apartment. But I didn’t, because I was all of the above: worried, busy, etc. And really, I still am–but 2011 is the year nonetheless!

I will try to keep the “I hate wrapping things in newspaper and not being able to find things and chaos and confusion” posts to a minimum.

December 18th, 2010

Reverb 17

What was the best thing you learned about yourself this past year? And how will you apply that lesson going forward? (Author: Tara Weaver) (www.reverb10.com)

As it turns out, I can be slightly more flexible than I previously thought! I can get outside of my rigidly imposed systems and schedules and not completely crumble into dust. Guess who just at lunch at 2:30 in the afternoon and did not die? Me!!

Of course, what would be useful is to apply this skill beyond inane things like lunch and towards useful compromises with people I care about. I don’t always need to go my own way.

December 9th, 2010

Reverb 8

December 8 – Beautifully Different. Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful. (Author: Karen Walrond) (http://www.reverb10.com)

I have always thought my strangely prominent sternum is my best feature, but I don’t know that anyone else does, or indeed has even noticed it. I don’t have any data at hand, but I really thing the distance between my collarbone and diaphram is much longer than on most people. When I put my palm flat on my breastbone, the little rise in the centre fits perfectly in my palm. I find this a calming gesture, and do it often when I’m nervous. It might make people thing I’m really honest (but I am, anyway).

Anyway, yay, sternum! I think I might be misunderstanding the question a little, but I don’t care!