November 20th, 2009

Thanks again

So, um, er, I thought yesterday was American Thanksgiving. All day I walked around being thankful for stuff, and it turns out–that’s next week. Too late, I’m already thankful, and I’m doing the Thanksgiving post today. Of course, I was already grateful last month for Canadian Thanksgiving, so I’m going to limit this list to gratitude-worthy things that have happened since early October. Ok, go!

1) Medieval Times. I liked the dancing horses, the bright emblems, the evil green night and his worthy foes, but it was not so any one aspect of the spectacle that I loved so much as getting to go, at the age of 31, with a group of happy friends that wanted to cheer for the blue knight and eat enormous amounts of chicken just as much as I did. I have to admit, I was nervous about what happens when you grow up; I am so glad to find it is this.

2) Canada! In the past couple months, I’ve been in the following cities: Toronto, Hamilton, Kitchener, Ottawa, Montreal, Edmonton, and Jasper. And everywhere has been fun and fascinating and full of friendly people and unimaginable discoveries. So *this* is why people travel. I’m starting to get it now.

3) Biblioasis! Obviously, I’m pretty grateful for Biblioasis publishing my book a year ago, and supporting so wonderfully. But right specifically now, I’m grateful for it being a year on and still getting to do readings for Bilblioasis, not to mention being driven to Montreal by Dan Wells. Again, I didn’t know what being a published author would be like, but I am so glad it turns out to involve parties and sushi and road trips.

4) Not getting swine flu (yet).

5) Mavis Gallant‘s short stories. SHE’S SO GOOD!! I always knew that, but now my head is bursting with it. More on this situation as it develops.

6) Making my holiday card list (yes, I do this in November; what?) and thinking about all the lovely people I know.

7) Hugs.

So, yeah, thanks for all that. And remember that this list is effective for the next week, until the actual American Thanksgiving has come and gone, after which, I suppose I’ll have to find some new things to be grateful for.
RR

November 19th, 2009

The Rose-coloured Review Policy

About a year and a half ago, I began the Rose-coloured Reviews project, whereby I try to learn to write literary reviews by writing them, as well as reviews of all sorts of things. The project has been slow, spotty, and subject to flippancy, but I have learned a lot anyway, as well as looked closer than I would have otherwise at some really interesting things. Here’s the review tally, thus far:

Restaurants: 3
Candy Bars: 2
Short Stories: 5
Movies: 3
Music (songs or albums): 2
Trains: 1
Plays: 2
Magazines: 1
Books: 6
Recipes: 1
Exercises: 1
Shoes: 1 (pair)
Religions Experiences: 1

What have I learned? That reviewing is hard and I can do it only if I think I have something to say that is worth bothering other people about. I don’t necssarily need to like something to review it, but I need to be interested in my own reaction, positive or negative. If I read the book or watch the film or eat the tuna and my response is, “Great! What’s next?” or “I’m glad that’s over!” and then I stop thinking about it, I would find it very difficult and unhappy work to write a review of it.

Since Rose-coloured is my fun side project and not a job, I don’t do anything on it I don’t want to do. Hence, there are no reviews in the above list that were miserable to write, though certainly, all were challenging. I am amazed that people who have the gift of writing excellent prose or poetry–so many of the people I know–also can spin out an insightful and interesting review on assignment, on deadline. I consider it magic.

Of course, it is possible that I am forever scarred by the fact that I wrote a book that itself was reviewed. And those reviews were *good* (mainly) but I fretted intensely before they came out, and parsed every word for meaning. The best piece of advice I got about that insanity came from my friend Scott. I was trying to apply a comment from a review to some current work I was doing and getting nowhere. “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to *do* with this,” I wailed, to which Scott responded, “*You* aren’t supposed to do anything. He didn’t write it for *you.*”

Oh, the flares and lightning bolts. I have been doing a lot better with reviews since I convinced myself that they aren’t letters to my book, neither love nor poison-pen, but letters to readers *about* my book. I think most writers eventually come to some version of that position–otherwise, how could they not go insane?

What’s interesting to me is that, despite the great number of articulate and insightful reviews I see in print on the web, is that *reviewers* have not necessarily come to this position. If you read Canadian book blogs, you may lately have seen a great amount of debate about how reviewers should approach books under review (and if you don’t read those blogs, I am not sure I should initiate you into the fray–keeping up with the confusion can get obsessive!) It has been inspiring to read about how serious reviewers have serious ethos and poetics (and prosodics?) about the process, and how hard they struggle to put the emotional reactions all of u have to books into a critical system.

And yet. In these posts, I don’t see much mention of why, by which I mean “for whom,” reviews are written. I certainly believe that reviewing is a way to learn both about books and how I read, and to improve my critical clarity. That’s a good reason to review and certainly why I am trying to do so on this blog. But the reason that reviews are printed in newspapers and general interest magazines (I’m not talking about literary journals here, which are something of a separate subject), the reason people are paid to write them, is to help readers find a good book to read.

This is one of those things I write that make people hate this blog, but: I do believe reviewers have an important role in making people happy. As a TVless, hobbyless human, books are a sizeable portion of my good times, and I am always very sad when I read a book that slacked in its duty to be excellent.

I think it’s a reviewer’s first and principal duty to tell what a book is and how good it’s doing at being that. Is it a cozy mystery with shoddy details of life in a florist’s shop? A diabetics’ cookbook with sloppy measurements? A literary epic with dull digressions and obscure metaphors? I suppose we can never know intention, and marketing/jacket copy is often misleading, but it is a reviewer’s task to see if it both walks and talks like a duck (even the library is categorizing it as a squirrel). And to assess–with rigor, with precision and examples, with comparison to other writers; whatever it takes. We want to know about style and structure and political hints and purple flourishes, and what it feels to read that it the whole way through the book.

Because we’re trying to decide if we want to spend our money and time in order to do so.

To think that general interest reviews are geared towards something other than explaining a book to readers to help them decide whether they should offer up their $22.95 and week of reading time–well, if they aren’t, that might go a ways towards explaining why general interest publications are cutting the space for them.

The critical discussion–take a book apart to find out what makes it tick, taking a criticism apart to find out if it is valid–*is* critical to vibrant literature, but by and large it takes place elsewhere: on blogs, in journals, in bars and cafes. Newspaper and magazine reviews should, to my mind, be an invitation into a given book for its potential reader: an invitation to assess, perhaps to read, an invitation to that very critical conversation that is happening on some other page somewhere else.

I think that’s a huge responsibility, and though I *am* trying to get better at it–because I think it would be so amazing to be able to offer that invitation to people–the learning curve is steep and I have a lot distractions. So here’s the Rose-coloured review policy:

I rarely review, and still more rarely review books–less than once every three months, perhaps, and then only books I feel very strongly about. If you offer to send me a review copy, I will likely try to dissuade you. If you insist, I’ll take it (I do like books, after all) but likely the best result of this you can hope for is that I’ll read it, and sit on the bus with the cover showing, and someone will take that as invitation to the conversation.

That’s it for now, but I continue to try to improve.
RR

November 17th, 2009

Meantime

I have mired myself in a complicated post that I can’t finish nor even understand the previous drafts of, so for now, I’m a little content poor. But don’t worry, I’m gonna work it out.

Meantime, why don’t you go listen The Burning Hell (if you’re feeling goofy and macabre) or Dave Pomfret (if you’re feeling a bit mellow, a bit bouncy, with a bit of a twang). You could always check out this database of Hamilton writers (yes, I’m in there–whoo-hoo!)

Or you could entertain yourself. It’s sort of sunny outside. Maybe you should just go frolic?

RR

November 16th, 2009

I may or may not be going somewhere with this

Here’s what I do:

1) Wet the toothbrush under the tap.
2) Put toothpaste on the brush.
3) Brush teeth.
4) Spit.
5) Brush tongue.
6) Spit
7) Fill a glass with water.
8) Take a sip of water; swish it around mouth; spit (3x).
9) Take final sip of water; swallow.
10) Rinse toothbrush.

What do you do?
RR

November 15th, 2009

*This* just in

The November/December issue of This Magazine, themed “Legalize everything” is on newsstands now (and has been all month, so this isn’t “just in” at all–I’m just slow and can’t resist a pun!) Among other bits of awesome, it’s got the results of The Great Canadian Literary Hunt, of which I was one of the fiction judges (along with Dennis E. Bolen and Kate Sutherland, with whom it was such a pleasure to share thoughts on the stories). I am so delighted for all the winners and encourage you to go seek out the inspiring weirdness of these stories immediately.

RR

November 13th, 2009

Rose-coloured reviews Kimchi House, Jasper, Alberta

Note: this is review is in conjunction (but not consultation) with a review by my dining companion, AMT. Please see her blog for another perspective on the same meal (I’ll edit this to add a link when hers is up).

Right, so the small mountain town of Jasper, Alberta, is beautiful, semi-remote, mildly touristy and not at all the first stop on anyone’s Asian cuisine binge. Nevertheless, there is both a Chinese and a Korean restaurant in town, and as my dining companion had had previous good experiences at KimChi House, we decided to go there for our one dinner in Jasper.

I needed little convincing, being a lover of Korean food and inhabitant of a city that is a much more probable destination if one were seeking to (over-)indulge in the stuff.

So the first thing to report is that the kimchi was subpar. I eat a lot of kimchi, the spicy pickled cabbage that is so much of the Korean diet. I can’t really be called an expert, as I can’t make it (I think it actually takes a village to make kimchi) but I know what I like–lots of sticky bright red chili paste and salty-sweet-spicy flavour. This kimchi was overwhelmed with brine, and had very little chili paste–it was sort of pinkish beige, and very drippy. Also not so spicy, although it was the drippiness that really put me off.

Ok, that’s it for the negative–the rest of the food was excellent. I didn’t sample AMT’s bulgogi because I don’t eat beef, but it looked and smelled great. My own dak bulgogi (bulgogi only chicken instead of beef) arrived all sizzling on a cow-shaped platter and was stellar. I especially liked the random little bits of veggies–one broccoli floret, three mushrooms, a bit of celery, etc. The sauce wasn’t super-spicy (I’d ordered “medium”) but it had a good kick to it.

There was a thing of steamed rice that I didn’t eat (I don’t care about rice; sorry) and that was it for free side dishes. Unusual for Korean restaurants in Toronto, at least, which usually throw in two or three little dishes of pickles or somesuch. We paid $3 for the dribbly kimchi, plus $3 each for a wonderful if salty seafood salad (AMT’s choice) and a platter of lettuce leaves (my choice; the menu promised “leaf-lettuce salad). I made lettuce wraps out of my meat and the lettuce, which was quite tasty but not quite orthodox.

Ambience: a nice big restaurant, well-appointed but undistinguished. I appreciated the lack of “look, Asian stuff” art–it was just comfortable. The music was, unfortunately, some sort of classical hits album. When we entered, something from the Nutcracker was playing (full disclosure–AMT id’d everything that played, but I only nailed the wedding march.) The aspect that of course the restauranteurs didn’t directly control was the other patrons. On the night we dined, these were: someone waiting for takeout and fiddling with a laptop; a man eating alone who later came over to ask us what we’d ordered and if we liked it (I couldn’t tell if this was genuine culinary fascination or loneliness–I ran out of things to say about dak bulgogi, but I would have chatted with him more about something or other if I could have discerned what he wanted); a young couple in ski jackets, he with pants and a shirt underneath, she in a wedding down. Perhaps the classical march was appropriate. Anyway, it was all interesting.

The meal was a bit on the expensive side. Even leaving out the a la carte sides, $18 is more than most Torontonians would pay for bulgogi. But well, it is the mountains, I suppose you pay more for the ingredients being trekked into the mountains. And perhaps we were subsidizing the lack of other patrons. Anyway, the owner came out and talked to me while AMT was in the bathroom, and she seemed charming and dedicated and very very nervous about our liking the food. Her family immigrated 9 years ago.

So while I do have to disclose that my dining companion spent a small but striking portion of the night throwing up, I am not sure what to make of it. It seemed like such a nice place–maybe everyone screws up once in a while.

RR

November 11th, 2009

The Professional Interviews 7: Jennifer, Food Service Co-ordinator (Circle Square Ranch)

This was my first email interview (over Facebook, actually). This format is great for busy people (pretty much everyone I’ve interviewed so far), since they can answer at leisure or a bit at a time or whenever suits. There’s less back and forth (I did two sets of questions, the second inspired by the answers to the first) and of course no eye-contact/body language/laughter… But for an interviewee (like Jennifer) who expresses him/herself well in writing, this is a fun low-stress interview (and it saves the horrible horrible transcription). See our cyber-dialogue below, me in bold, she in Roman.

What do you at work on a typical day?

Order groceries, cook meals, boss the kitchen staff around, make sure the kitchen is clean and the dinning hall is set up.

I think my job is very interesting; there have been many highs and lows. When I got here I had no idea how to cook a meal for 270 people. I didn’t know how to cook some of the food on the menu let alone make it for that many people. Having a kitchen staff of teenagers who have no experience made things even more interesting. I’ve run out of food with 50 people in line, I’ve had one of my staff call the police on a dare. I’ve had Sysco, who was our only food supplier at the time, tell me they didn’t get our order after a computer glitch and there was nothing they could do and I didn’t have food to feed all these people.

What is your favourite thing to do at work? Least favourite?

My favourite thing: Making massive birthday cakes or cupcakes

Least favourite: Throwing out pans of leftovers, such a waste of food.

How did you wind up with this job?

The old cooks left the Ranch unexpectedly. My boss sent a message to all their friends on Facebook asking if anyone knew anyone. I didn’t have enough experience to run a kitchen but they are such nice people I wanted to help them if I could so I offered to help. I let them know I was unqualified to be the cook but they didn’t have anyone else so I got the job.

What sort of cooking experience did you have before this job (ie., cooking classes, previous jobs)?

One of the best things about working here is they give you opportunity to learn so much. I didn’t have previous experience running a kitchen. I worked in various kitchens–restaurant, camp, golf course–and I took various cooking and cake decorating classes and I had a diploma in cooking but there was nothing that prepared me for this. As weird as it sounds, the thing that was the best preparation for doing this job was being youth group leader at my church. There I planned various events and fundraisers and it was my only experience running anything of any sort.

Describe the first meal you cooked for 270–what did you make and how did it go? How did you feel when it was over?

I don’t remember the first meal I cooked for 270 [since] it was a progression. I cooked for 30 people first for horse staff training, then I cooked for 80 for staff training. The first week of camp is generally smaller: I think I cooked for 120, the following week probabaly 180 and so on. The middle to late summer is usually full or close to it.

My second week was the hardest. It was the first week I was on my own and the quality control person was visiting me after every meal to tell me how much my food sucked and I was working about 17 hours a day, my staff weren’t getting breaks, they were all tired and I was still trying to figure everything out. I cried a lot that week.

Every week things got better, every summer things have gotten easier…. [A]s soon as one meal is done you are thinking about the next. You don’t really look back on a meal until the next time you make it and that is when you try to figure out ways to make it better. The menu is supposed to be kid-friendly. We keep the popular dishes on and take the unpopular meals off, it has been trial and error. If the seconds line is long and the kids run to get in line that means the food is good, if they are coming up for thirds that is a good sign too. If the kids are coming to the kitchen door to ask for toast and cereal that is a very bad sign. If there is food in the compost bin, that is a bad sign.

What is it like living where you work? Does it make you better friends with your colleagues? Do you end up working more because you are right there?

Someone I worked with when I was fifteen stopped in one day and…he said to me in regard to living there “that must be a dream come true.” He said he would love to live here. It is a wonderful place to live. It is quiet, peaceful. Everyone is one big happy family and I am constantly around great people that inspire and challenge me to be a better person. The times I’ve spent here have been some of the best times of my life.

In the summer I really don’t have time for friendship, cooking consumes me but I have to say the people that I live with are incredible and in the off-season you can’t not make friends… The whole idea of me living here is to help them out. I like doing it and I’ve had such good experiences here that it feels good to do something for them. I do end up working more but it is a good thing. One of the best parts of living here is when camp starts the kitchen isn’t a disaster, [since] I was able to do a lot of cleaning last year, which led to a few renovations, which led to more shelving. It is a small kitchen so it made things way more organized.

What sort of person would be good at a job like yours? Who would be bad at it?

I don’t know that there is any type of person that would be good or bad at this job; all I know is what I have been working on. I’ve had to work a lot at getting organized. …[Y]ou order thousands of of dollars worth of groceries in a week and it so easy to forget something, or you misjudge how much you need. Another aspect that I have found hard is the physical aspect. It is a lot of lifting, so I try to get some excercise before summer to get in some sort of shape. Other than that I would say you need to have a lot of energy. You need to be clean if you don’t want to have to worry about the health department.

One of the guys who worked here asked me that question and I told him everything you make you have to put love into it. He said, no be serious. I told him I am being serious: you can either try your best when you are cooking or you can slap the food together like you don’t care. I’ve worked in one fine dining restaurant and my boss there always used to say that to me, put the love into it. He is one of the best people I’ve ever known, I try to live by the things he taught me.

November 10th, 2009

Alberta is attractive

I like it here. Here in Edmonton there is a river and a majestic legislature building and lots of good food and friendly people (most of whom my host seems to know; certainly someone in every coffee shop we enter!) Also swing dancers and linguistics labs and a bunny rabbit just hanging out in a park downtown. Also, the sentence has been uttered, “I might get so excited about the interactive VHS Star Trek game that I have to use my inhaler.” Clearly, there has been no lack of entertainment here.

And then there was a road trip to Jasper National Park. And though that bunny will always have a special place in my heart, it will be a bit crowded in with the deer, bighorn sheep, bald eagle, coyote, elk (some of them angry), crows and magpies. Also, while hiking in the show beside Medicine Lake, we discovered that the air smelled of cinnamon–clearly, some dried weed we had crushed underfoot emits this aroma. Magic! Anyone got ideas what it is?

Also, I’m just mildly proud of myself that I hiked with undo wussiness or death (albeit while wearing gloves I bought at Le Chateau). It is absolutely stunningly beautiful in Jasper, and there is something around every bend in the path, making the challenge of keeping on (and on) hard to resist. Here are a couple (of very many) pictures I took. These are from Athabasca Falls.

November 7th, 2009

Edmonton: the first 30 hours

Since arriving in Edmonton, I have done many things. I rode in a cab for half an hour without anyone except the driver (I have a taxi thing), I stayed up really late, I ran windsprints, I bought sweaters, I ate little tiny tacos, and mainly, I got to hang with AMT for enough time to talk about nonsense (my favourite sport). When I call someone long distance, I feel I have to have A+ material; when we are in the same room, I feel comfortable enough to blather.

Because the flight was in the middle of the night, I did not get the customary amount of reading done, though I did read a couple excellent essays in an ancient issue of Arc (2008, seriously, I’m behind). I was basically catatonic for the entire flight–not quite asleep, not quite awake. But again, no real jetlag, though I was pretty excited to go to sleep last night.

Today I am bright-eyed and ready to go meet AMT at her class. I get charge of the house keys and am determined to live up to the responsibility. Already, it’s not going so well, as I can’t figure out how to turn off several of her lamps, and being the person I am (a person who fears leaving lamps turned on all day will result in fire) I wound up unplugging them. Go, me!!

Ok, I’m to the streets of Edmonton, where it is bright and sunny and reasonably warm, but there is a wind warning in effect. Also, here they sell sandwiches at the Shoppers’ Drug Mart. It’s a whole other world.

RR

November 5th, 2009

Professional Interview #6: Martha, Contract Writer