May 18th, 2010

Road Trips

I wrote this chapbook and Caryl Peters gave it the lovely cover.

My copies of “Road Trips” have arrived and they are so gorgeous. You can see the cover at right, and that does convey a lot of it, but it’s the paper, too, and the end papers (oh my goodness, those endpapers). And the interior illustrations! I have never had a book with images in it before! I tried and tried to take a picture of myself with the book (my great idea was to lie on the floor with the book on my chest and hold the camera up above me–not a win) but I think you are just going to have to take my word for it (or order one for yourself).

This is totally not going to become a blog with contant pictures in every post–I have just had a lot of really attractive pictures to post lately. Swears.

Something about the content, maybe: the two stories in this book are called “From an Eastern University” and “The Least of Love.” Both are road trip stories (natch), concerning people who know each other well (roommates in one, a couple in the other) trapped in a car together–really, that scenario is bound to be a story one way or another (except my road trip this weekend, which promises to be serene and full of witty conversations and delicious breakfast foods).

A lot about seeing this material in print make me happy. Both stories contain characters I’ve been working with for a long time (if you’ve read Once, you’ll recognize at least a few people), and I really do like travel/motion stories. And well…yeah, I’m happy about this little book!

May 17th, 2010

Rose-coloured reviews Wilket Creek Park and Edwards Gardens

Sunny Sunday afternoon at Edward Gardens.

I have been a fan of Wilket Creek Park for ages. It’s a great running park with a formerly dirt, currently blacktop (still softer on the knees than cement) pathway. It’s green and pretty and well-enough trafficked that even a lone jogger plugged into an iPod doesn’t feel about to be set upon by hooligans (as you can in some of the TO parks). There are lots of different ways to enter the park, but I prefer the big Leslie entrance just south of Eglinton. You can take either the 34 or 51 busses to Leslie, cross and walk north to the park entrance on the west side of the street.

The first thing you will notice if you do this is that this is a car-based part of the park. Far more popular than either the 34 or the 51 is to drive to the park, and often through it. There is tonnes and tonnes of parking, and if you turn left when you get the chance, long winding roadways between the lots continue for a good ways. I don’t know the name of this park (most parks in TO seem to be contiguous, bleeding into one another) but there are pretty paths here, lots of picnic grounds and even coal pits for barbequing, but there is also, always, the roadway.

If picnicking is not your priority, or after you have eaten it, I would recommend heading right/north, into Wilket Creek park, which is purely for pedestrians and, in my opinion, nicer. There we have that long, newly blacktopped path, running right beside the aforementioned creek. It’s quite leafy and shaded in full summer (ie., as of now) with enough sunlight dappling through the leaves as to be quite flattering to one’s companions, children frolicking in the dirt, rocks, brambles, things that look like raspberry bushes but aren’t (I have never found any edible raspberries along Wilket and believe me, I’ve looked), rocks and birds and other nice things. It’s a lovely walk and takes maybe 30 minutes if you amble. It’s also all on one level, so it is perfect for people who can *only* amble, as well as folks in wheelchairs or pushing prams, the elderly, etc.

Now, I did say I used to run on this short, crowded, slow-moving path, but I am a) not a fast runner and b) an early riser. If you run early early, or on a weekday, it’s only mildly peopled and perfect for a quiet, non-speedy jog–ditto cycling. But the people running and biking on it on the very nice May Sunday afternoon that was yesterday were moving at a snail’s pace and swerving into the trees and looking quite frustrated. Maybe not ideal, but that’s your call.

Once you’ve done all this walking/biking/wheeling/whatever, you wind up at the very lovely Edwards Gardens. Here there is a path and some bridges and lots of children doing unsafe things in the creek, jumpign from stone to stone. There are also some stairs you can climb to a higher level of the gardens (here we leave behind those on wheels, but I believe there is a level entrance/parking lot from Laurence, if you prefer).

That’s what the picture above is–the higher portion of Edwards Gardens, taken from a bench far up the incline. I believe if one heads northeast through the park, one would end up at some greenhouses I’ve never been inside but look very nice. I however was content in the gardens, soon abandoning the bench for the nice cushy green grass, and reading in the Sunday sun. I really don’t understand people who say Toronto isn’t pretty–do they refuse to come out from under bridges?

May 13th, 2010

Welcome!

Hello, and welcome to my new site, created by the fabulous Stuart Lawler at Create Me This. Here we have a little more room to spread out, with different pages for books and other publications and bio, all that good stuff. There’s even a contact form as well as the tried-and-true comments option, if you feel like sending me a note (hint: I like notes).

Things will continue to be pretty rose-coloured in my new space–reviews of random stuff (often books but occasionally shoes or candy), discussions of writing technique, random stuff about my life (I really won’t be hurt if you skip those), and of course links to whatever stories/books/interviews/readings I’m currently up to, my cool friends are currently up to, or even sometimes stuff by extremely cool people I don’t know.

Please take a look around, see what’s here, and certainly let me know if you see something weird or nonfunctional. I really hope you like the site as much as I do. Here are some flowers:

Rose-coloured reviews “The Cursing Mommy” by Ian Frazier

Now, you know I take The New Yorker as a direct letter from my chosen diety, and I do quite like the work on the magazine of Ian Frazier but I just can’t quite be happy with his recent string of Cursing Mommy columns.

These aren’t about wishing 7 years bad luck on a mother, but rather a mother who curses. These appear sporadically in the New Yorker’s humour column, Shouts and Murmurs. CM narrates an advice show in a similar manner to a cooking show–“Now I’ll just go over here and get the…” and Frazier’s columns are the transcripts. Cursing Mommy hates her “useless” husband, is usually fed up with her (rarely present) offspring, seems to live a nice middle-class life (has a fax machine, lots of liquor, no job and guests for dinner), and can barely see through her blinding rage. She is also frequently drunk.

I think you can see where I am going with this…

The most recent installment, from the April 26 issue, is Rx from the Cursing Mommy: Cursing Mommy discusses the situation of her infirm and widowed father, and how she struggles with all the nonsensical communications sent to her by the retirement home where he lives. She begins to offer some reasonable advice–staple together, label and file all communications–but then is undone by the fact that the stapler isn’t working.

CM has real issues, and she states them articulately (though not particularly humourously): her “betwixt and between generation [is] responsible for the health needs not only of ourselves and our usually oblivious spouses but of our children and our aging parents, too.” She gets no help with her father, though “at some point he became involved with a woman named Marjorie, who is quite a bit younger and larger than he is, and she has taken an apartment not far from the nursing home.”

That’s the scene, surely not unrelate-to-able–the US health-care system really is labyrinthine, and it’s even worse when you are negotiating it on behalf of someone else far away. From the personal RR files: My folks went through this with my grandparents, a continent away, so I do know that CM is right that it’s crazy-making (and yet my folks managed not to go crazy, or even curse that much, and they don’t even have a fax machine).

But CM does go crazy, and I felt fairly bad for her, and not at all amused. You tell me–funny or sad?

“And then [wham wham wham wham wham] the fucking staples STILL aren’t coming out! [Wham wham wham wham.] And now they’re coming out three at a fucking time! Oh, I so despise this shit! [Wham wham wham wham wham.] And the fucking Bush Administration, too—how I loathe them! [Wham wham wham wham wham wham wham.] Did it work? [Wham wham wham wham wham wham wham wham wham wham wham wham wham.] All right, I think it worked.”

I suppose part of my issue is that Frazier is a middle-aged man, and I feel like he doesn’t get to make fun of women struggling to stay sane. But of course, this would be as offensive as it is–or isn’t, depending on your viewpoint–if I wrote it or indeed if a stay-at-home-mom did (do we like the acronym SAHM? I find it hard to pronounce). But I also totally feel like, simply as humour, this is falling flat because it’s the wrong format–this is physical comedy and probably should be an actual TV show (SNL sketch, anyone?) and not prose. Visuals come at you faster, and if they are hilarious enough keep a girl from going all “is that anti-feminist? Is he saying women are so dumb they can’t even cope with staplers?

I would like to tie together my two theses: 1) this column is vaguely misogynistic and 2) this column is not all that funny, but I can’t seem to. I guess one thought along those lines is that though this particular column would still not do it for me even if it were written by a woman, I’ve read *much* funnier accounts of the SAHM life (I guess I can type it even if I can’t say it) that were written by the women who lived them. That actual on-ground point of view is missing here–it is very much mocking from outside rather than humourously commiserating from inside.

Maybe Shouts and Murmurs should stick to columns based on silly press-release copy–I like those.

May 12th, 2010

Marlene!

Marlene, on my duvet, whom I've named Evelyn, because I am pathetic petless person

I talked constantly to anyone who would listen about the wonderous Marlene, who came to stay with me last week. She totally made hanging out at home funner, so I thought I would offer this photo, in case it makes your day funner, too:

May 11th, 2010

Career Notes: Everybody sad!

I think at my career-talk thingy on Thursday, I am going to be asked about how I balance writing stories and earning a living. My glib answer is “badly,” but my non-glib answer is not too much better–I do what I can, sleep less than I want, miss parties I’d enjoy, I don’t own a car, cellphone, cat, or cable box, and have truly demented tax returns. But judging by the state of the bloggersphere today, everybody is miserable in this situation. So I’m in good company, and at least I’m not injured:

Mark reports on AL Kennedy’s description of the writing life composed of exhaustion, obsession and back pain.

AJ comments on Geoff Pevere’s description of the writing life as composed of networking, being ignored, and self-doubt.

Amy comments on the writing life of trying to find a totally un-writing-related job to support the writing. I like how Amy is positive and puts the pros of the situation before the cons, albeit after the eye-gouging reference.

So what am I really gonna tell the kids on Thursday? That if you want to do a thing that doesn’t pay much (or sometimes anything) you will have to do another thing that pays at least something, to balance it out, at least for a while. And while yes, that can suck the life right out of you and make you just want to lie down and have a little nap at the bus stop or the grocery store, it can also be stimulating and exciting to be in two different worlds. And a workaday job, as opposed to writing, will introduce you to new people, help you learn to work as part of a team, expose you to ideas you did not think of yourself, and more than likely offer at least some cake.

This might be aggressive silver-lining searching from someone writing this blog post as her sole creative outlet this week, as she spends her days editing and her nights marking teenager stories (Bulletin: I have learned about the teens: they like the video games. Also: weird fonts.) But there’s always gonna be tradeoffs, and quite often I get to write for a few hours at a time. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

I think I’m going to do a post on “Jobs for Writers.” I’ve had a lot of different ones, but not nearly all that are out there–please send comments if you’ve had a particularly good, or particularly bad job-writing fit that we can all learn from.

Back to work!
RR

May 10th, 2010

The News

So the news is, in case you have not been picking up on my extremely subtle hints, that Rose-coloured is moving to its very own dedicated URL with a splendid new design from Create Me This, and life is good. Ok, life is actually incredibly hectic, so I’ve been building up to the big unveiling by not posting much–I’m sure you’ve been crushed by my silence. But see below–lotsa cool stuff:

1) May is the Month of the Short Story. I sort of knew this last year, but not really, because I spent most of May in Japan, where was probably not the Month of the Short Story and even if it was I wouldn’t have understood. Anyway, I definitely know it this year because Steven WB has moved 31 Days of Short Stories to now and that’s so amazing. Although my first thought when I saw the first post was, “Hey, that’s not until August!” I have a hard time with change. At least it’s not one of those 30-day months or I would really have lost it.

2) Amy asks (in the comments on the last post) what I say when I’m asked by a random person at a party what I do–writer or editor. It depends on the party–I go to a lot of parties where people are both writers and editors and other artistic people and sympathizers. In *that* crowd I always say writer (if we talk for long, the other will come up though) because they are likely to get it and be nice about it. *However* if the party consists of people of unknown professions, I say “editor” because I’m scared they will be mean to me if I say “writer.” That’s, mind you, a stupid stereotype of people in the non-obviously creative professions (in fact, most people need to be creative to get their jobs done). However, some people *are* dismissive, and I get really sad when someone, even a random stranger, is mean about my writing. It’s like they insulted my significant other–the conversation cannot go on. And although rare, this *has* happened.

Pharmaceutical exec: So, what do you do?
Me: I’m a writer. I had a book of stories come out in 2008.
PE: A writer? Really, so you just sit around and write all day?
Me: Well, actually…
PE: Man, that would be great–sleep in, make coffee, write a little story. No crazy commute, no DVP, no stress..
Me: Well, actually…
PE: (long detailed discussion of PE’s exact route to work, timing, possibility of accidents, etc. Seriously, 10 minutes!) A writer, wow, I should get on that. That would be the life. No stress at all! You wouldn’t believe what I have to put up with.
Me: You must wish you were dead.
PE: What?
Me: I wish *I* were dead?
PE: What?
Me: Oh, look, the hostess just put out a new kind of cheese. Excuse me.

Ok, I might have made a little tiny bit of that up, but largely, it’s accurate, and so very depressing. I’d rather just say “editor” and talk about my bus route to the office. Which makes me, I know, a giant wuss, but it’s less stressful by far.

3) Lindsay has a new website too, and it’s really pretty. Spring is the time of web renewal, apparently!

More to come soon, I promise–and brace yourself for the big change (I think this is a change I will be able to handle) of URL, coming soon!

RR

May 5th, 2010

Career Queries

Although it does not come up on Rose-coloured very often, I work as an editor. To do this, I got my publishing certificate. Most of the curriculum was to make us competent enough to do certain jobs in the publishing industry, which was very useful. As well, though, a sizeable chunk of time was devoted to helping us *get* those jobs. You’d think that latter part would have been interesting, and it was, but it was also very odd.

The classes on job-getting inevitably had a guest speaker who had been very successful in publishing–someone who had been at it 20 or so years and had risen to VP status or similar. They were supposed to tell us both about life in the industry and how they got their starts. The former category always a lot fascinating stuff , but the latter… Some weird kind of modesty would overtake our speakers, coupled with spotty memories, and they just could not (or would not) admit they had ever been ambitious or tried hard or even *wanted* to work in publishing. “Just fell into it,” “wasn’t good at anything else,” “friend begged me to take the job,” were a few of the things I heard.

I don’t think these people meant to come across as they did, which was weirdly smug and secretive. I think the industry has genuinely changed in the last 20 years, and it used to be much easier to just “fall” into a successful and exciting career. And, well, I think some of those people *did* fear seeming like they had been ambitious and tried really hard to get promotions and earn money–that’s not something the genuinely bookish are supposed to do.

Well, here’s the truth about me: I have always had a strong–borderline obsessive–desire to feed and clothe myself and to sleep indoors, and I thought it would be best if I could do it working with books. This was hard to do, and continues to be, but I can (usually) manage. Sorta.

So when UofT Career Centre asked me to speak to a bunch of graduating students about my work and path to it (and ongoing), I suddenly had a wash of that bizarro reticence mentioned above–“Oh, I don’t really know, it just worked out, sorta…”

Which is of course crazy–I remember exactly how I got here, and some of those wounds are still quite fresh. I think maybe offering advice feels too much like tempting the fates–“Hey, I am confident in my work; must be time to shoot me down!” And, in truth, no one is an expert except on whatever works for that person…and even then, there’s a fair bit of randomness involved.

But I do think I’ll be able to tell those young graduates a few useful things, and maybe it’ll even be good that I’m low-level enough to remember how hard you have to try to get started. Since I suspect a lot of the Rose-coloured readers might work in publishing, or be interested in it, please feel free to post either queries or advice (or both) that I might use in my talk (May 13). I promise to post whatever notes and answers I come up with here afterwards.

I will of course also be talking about writing stories and stuff, and how I balance the two (poorly). But I have a feeling that students weeks away from summer vacation who are willing to go to a careers seminar are not in the market for a job that you would require another job to support. But…what do I know?

RR

May 4th, 2010

Road Trips Announcment

Frog Hollow Press sent out their announcment of my forthcoming chapbook, *Road Trips* today. I tried for a while to figure out how to post the pretty flyer here on Rose-coloured, but Blogger seemed determined to thwart my desire. And then Dan very nicely posted it on Thirsty, thus solving all my problems.

So take a look, if you care for such things. The cover is posted, too, and it’s super-lovely. Just a few more weeks to go–I’m hoping to have the book in time for my birthday!

Yay!
RR

Smart cat

The cat I am cat-sitting is a genius! She has figured out what the sound of my alarm clock means! What it means is that I am going to hit the snooze button and lie there for 9 (0r 18) more minutes, not entirely awake but conscious enough for petting. At the sound of the alarm, she comes scrambling from the foot of the bed or, like this morning, the other room and positions herself by, or on, a hand. When I can feel her there (my eyes are usually still closed) I pet her, and she is happy.