November 4th, 2009

In very brief

1) Montreal est magnificique! J’etais la pour un presentation des livres a Librairie Drawn & Quarterly avec Kathleen Winter et Amy Jones (on peut voir leurs perspectives sur notre presentations si on lit ses blogs. Notre publie Dan Wells a conduit son minivan, beaucoup des livres, Amy et moi (je pense qu’il y a un probleme de verb avec cette phrase, et peut-etre la plupart de cette paragraphe) et c’etait un adventure magnifique.

2) I was the Inconstant Muse for Hallowe’en! It was was awesome. Like most of my highly conceptual [confusing] costumes, this one requires some explanation: I picture the Muse a bit coquettish/flirty/slutty–she is all eager to hook up and give writers great ideas, but then she takes off and leaves you to execute the idea all alone. So my costume was a brief toga, some laurel leaves, and great first lines of books written in Sharpie all over my arms and legs. Conceptual, I tell you.

3) This hydro-metre thingy is the best: a way to be environmentally friendly in a vaguely competitive, entirely trackable way: you get to see your hour-to-hour, day-to-day energy use, and pinpoint where you are over-indulging in “peak” (ie., most expensive) energy. I don’t have most of the big appliances (dishwasher, laundry/drier, air conditioner) so even at optimal efficiency my savings would still be minimal, but it is so attractive to see it all laid out in colourful drafts. I hope I don’t get obsessed.

4) My post about TTC seating etiquette got picked up on the Maisonneuve blog. This is a silly thing to post here, as if you are a regular Rose-coloured reader, you’ve likely already read that piece, but I am chuffed the Maisonneuve-sters thought it was worth reposting, and Rose-coloured is for all things I’m chuffed about (except the post in question, actually, which is rather snarky).

5) Tomorrow night, I head for the hills, by which I mean Edmonton and the mountains beyond, as well as my incredible friend AMT. I’ll only be gone 5 days, and likely there can be some remote posting, but whenever I leave my comfortable internet orbit, there is a risk of non-access, so you may not hear from me until next week. I’m sure you’ll be just fine without me!

RR

November 2nd, 2009

Reminder

that Amy Jones, Kathleen Winter and I are reading tomorrow at the Drawn & Quarterly store in Montreal, 211 rue Bernard West, at 7pm. And that it’s going to be awesome. And…yay!

I’m inarticulate because of being really really tired from Hallowe’en, which was also awesome, but went on an extra hour due to Daylight Savings, and then some, because my friends are cool and I try to keep up. I’m planning to sleep…now, pretty much, so I should be in better form by the time I’m in front of any audience tomorrow.

See you there?
RR

October 30th, 2009

C’est l’Hallowe’en!!

Oh, I love this holiday. Perhaps most fictions writers are, as we are so dedicated to that which isn’t. There are not enough days on the calander when one is encouraged to go out in costume!

I love making costumes, though unlike with writing, I have little interest in audience for my costumes. Nobody every understands what I am, and the explanation required is often quite long. I am happy to explain, and also happy to remain a mystery for those who don’t care about the explanation. The best question I’ve been asked in a long time was the recent query, “So, Rebecca, what abstract concept are you being for Hallowe’en this year?”

So costume highlights from say 1996 onward (when I was a whippersnapper and costumed by my parents, I wore mainly standard superhero/witch/alien/hula girl costumes, which enevitably disappeared beneath a parka and sometimes snowpants. I did not, overall, fare terribly well during the years I was being dressed by my parents):

1)Bunch of grapes
2) Chalk outline
3) Carrot (something of a produce theme emerges)
4) The Universe
5) Fire
6) Evil Toothfairy (she takes teeth that aren’t even loose)
7) Dryad
8) Television test pattern

There were (gasp) a few years in there that I didn’t dress up, as well as a few in which I was my standard fallback costume, a butterfly.

But this year is going to be the best ever! Or I’m going to get ink poisoning!! Whatever, I don’t care, I love Hallowe’en so much and I’ve already had SO MUCH SUGAR!!

Whatever you are going as (and if you choose not to wear a costume, I choose to pretend you are going as a plain-clothes cop) I wish you a very happy Hallowe’en! Try not to egg any houses tonight!
RR

October 28th, 2009

Autobiographical Fiction and the Spectre of Mary Sue

Though my stories use plenty from the purportedly “real” world, I don’t write much autobiographical fiction. I know many authors use their lives on the page to brilliant effect, but the few times I’ve done it, the process made me miserable and took forever. It’s very very hard to transform oneself and people one cares about into characters, and the reason (for me) is that I can’t be as dispassionate, as clear-eyed and insightful about myself as I can about someone I made up, with whom I have no personal connection (because they are not a real person, and not available to form a connection).

Like um, this blog? In case you didn’t know? It’s really really biased. I avoid blogging anecdotes that make me look like (too much of) a moron, don’t discuss complicated moral decisions I made and later regretted, or other ways in which I might have let people down.

Those are shortcuts that aren’t available in fiction or at least not in the sort of fiction I (want to) write, I can’t blink at the characters’ flaws, let them get away with dubious actions, or valorize tepid behaviour. Even though the people aren’t real, they have real flaws and failings, and I care about writing those carefully, honestly.

I care about being honest about my own failings, too, but I find that incredibly difficult to do in public, with an audience. When I attempt to render something that happened to me in fiction, I often wimp out without realizing it, and wind up writing something that lets the “me” character off the hook or else pushes her forward in an unearned “hero” role. I have long-since learned that no matter how much an author likes her characters, you can’t have “favourites”–a really hard rule to enforce if a character is based on your brother, your beloved, or yourself.

A Mary Sue is a character in fiction that is (or the reader thinks is) a version of the author that is used a wish-fulfillment device in the story. It’s the dowdy girl who turns out to be the only one who can repair the engine in time to return to battle–and that’s when the sergeant notices her quiet yet tantalizing beauty. It’s the nerdy boy who just happens to be there when the head cheerleader falls in the lake–and the only one who bothered to learn mouth-to-mouth, and the possessor of surprisingly soft yet firm lips.

The term “Mary Sue” comes from the land of fan fiction, which is stories written about characters from TV shows, books and movies by their fans, for personal enjoyment and sharing with friends (not publication, cause that’s dubious copyright territory). But it applies in literary fiction too, I think–sometimes a fascinating event from real life doesn’t work in fiction because there are too many surrounding personalities and emotions and tensions that the author can’t manage on the page. Those things get edited out, and what we are left with a sublime perfect character who understands everything and everyone and never falls down in the parking lot.

I’m on this topic for a couple of reasons, not least the hysterical bit above from the Write Badly Well blog (thanks to AMT for the link). But more, it’s hearing Carrie Snyder read some really amazing autobiographical fiction, at the launch for the new issue of The New Quarterly, which features same.

Snyder’s story “Rat” is wonderful not only because it evokes the place and experience (a child emigrates with her family to Nicarauga) perfectly, but because the child’s POV is supplemented by a more omniscient third-person narrator. Thus, we do not end up with one of contemporary literature’s stock figures–the “wise beyond her years” “preternaturally intelligent” child-narrator. Sometimes this works beautifully, but often an author using remembered childhood incidents cannot help but load in adult insight and contextualizing, and we end up with an unrealisitically brilliant and insightful child–a character who knows more than all the others, and can do no wrong…a Mary Sue.

Snyder’s central character, Juliet, is smart but not insanely so–she understands more than the adults think she does, but she still misses a lot. The 3rd person narrator fills in the gaps in insight in a striking, sometimes shocking way. I’ve only heard a condensed version of this story read aloud, and I’m really looking forward to reading it at leisure when my issue of TNQ shows up (c’mon, Canada Post).

It’s always nice to reminded that although something is hard, it can be done extraordinarily well by an author with perspecitive and talent. Almost makes me want to try again myself…almost.

RR

October 27th, 2009

Happiness and Nostalgia

The Globe and Mail had a nice review of The Journey Prize Stories 21 on the website yesterday. Yes, I am always pleased when my name is on a book that’s in the newspaper, but mainly I am thrilled for the 12 writers whose work constitutes the collection. Especially for those who have never been in a book in the newspaper before.

The Globe’s review of The Journey Prize 19 was my first review, and that, along with actually being included in the collection, was part of a big huge shock to my system, that of real professional grown-ups that I had never met taking notice of my work. That morning, which was full of phone calls and emails, since I had no subscription and no clue such a thing was possible, was amazing.

I hope the current 12 had a similar kvell yesterday, and that there will be more to come. I am sure I sound like such a fogy, and this was all only two years ago. Actually, maybe that’s why the nostalgia is so acute–I’m not over the shock yet! I actually got an acceptance letter from a journal this morning and it took a moment to sink in–what, really, seriously??? Amazing.

I tried and tried to find the blog post from that 2007 Globe Review (or the review itself), but to no avail. But I did find this post, which might make you laugh.

RR

October 26th, 2009

Readings A-Go-Go

Heyas! I am doing a *semi-spontaneous* reading on Wednesday (in my world, three days notice counts as spontaneous!) at Art Word in Hamilton. It’s part of Dave Pomfret’s Artshare series, so if you make it out, expect process-talk from songwriters, playwrights, and page-writers like myself, as well as reading and maybe even music. Should be awesome.

Also, now the the Montreal reading that I’m doing next Monday has a poster:

Nice, isn’t it?

RR

October 24th, 2009

Break

If you count the week as Saturday to Friday, I attended four literary events this week, and spent a similar number of evenings up after midnight. I also did some work, two readings, saw a bunch of awesome people and took some fair-to-middling pictures. And now am so very very tired.

And now, though of course have blogged *The New Quarterly*’s fall launch for you despite any exhaustion, I have a delightful break, because Alex James, who provided the musical accompaniment to the evening, is also a profession blogger, and has a wonderful (and flattering!) post about the event. Hooray! It really was a terribly fun night, with so many friendly writers and delicious food only one jack-knifed tractor-trailer (my publisher, Dan Wells spent only five or so hours on the highway to be there and bring us books!)

So that’s it–I can concentrate on small, easy, non-exhausting tasks for the rest of the weekend–Hallowe’en shopping at Zellers, getting the DVD player to work long enough to play the last two episodes of season one of Slings and Arrows (the first tv show in a long time that I’ve been willing to argue with the DVD player for), maybe a nap in there somewhere.

Weekends are nice, and I hope you enjoy yours! Seeya Monday!
RR

October 22nd, 2009

Entertainments

Depending on your mood and inclination, you might enjoy one or several of the following:

–A beautiful and very sexy duet of “Emmanuel” by trumpeter Chris Botti and violinist Lucia Micarelli (via Leon via Mark)

–So this Dresden Cloak is pretty good: 42 3rd Act Twists (my favourite: “Ancient Druids lose interest”) is only the latest of a number of amusing things from the site Scott’s sent me lately (er, via Scott, obviously).

–Tonight, Amy Jones, Carrie Snyder and myself read at ArtBar in Kitchener to celebrate The New Quarterly’s new issue. I am very excited, and would be delighted to see you there.

–Tomorrow night is the Peep Show at the international festival of authors, hosted by Hal Niedzviecki and featuring a number of authors, including Lauren Kirshner and Dani Couture. See Dani peep it up on her blog.

RR

October 21st, 2009

Games to Play on the TTC: Snark Projection

Regular readers of this blog will know that I spend a lot of time on the TTC and that I love it. It’s not a perfect system (I’m looking at you, big open U up north) but it functions admirably, and for $1200 a year, gets me everywhere I need to go, plus most places I want to go. I also love the openness to strangers and their lives that public transit gives me. When I stopped working in the service industry, I found I really missed the constant stream of new faces (although little else). Some days, the bus is my only chance to see any strangers at all.

The TTC is a fashion show, an easedropper’s paradise, a microcosm of etiquette puzzles (exactly how crowded does the bus have to be to make standing in front of the doors acceptable?), and chance for random acts of kindness. Of course, that last one is especially fun to watch: how many bookmarks, metropasses, gloves, and pieces of fruit have people rescued for me in transit? I see people lifting up the fronts of strollers, grabbing the arms of blind people, offering their streets to pregnant ladies, mentioning that someone’s tag is out almost every day.

But I also see a fair bit of bad behaviour. So, though you know it comes with (largely) love, this particular game is snarky. I have noticed a bad TTC tendancy has lately picked up force, and I don’t like it, and to comfort myself, I have been writing little storylets based on the bad behaviour.

On most of the newer TTC buses (since about 2006), the seats in the raised rear portion of the bus are in pairs beside the windows. I always sit at the back and have firmly internalized the bus-logic rule that if you are alone in a two-seat, you scootch over to the window if you want to zone out. It is permissable to remain in the aisle seat only if you are able to remain alert and immediately swing your knees out into the aisle if someone wants to set next to you (because there is zero leg room for someone to get by; the aisle person essentially blocks access to the internal seat).

BUT! Some people I’ve encountered lately have not only not been scooting over or putting their knees in the aisle as I angle for the seat, they have been meeting my gaze balefully, almost angrily, even when I ask if I might please sit there. They do actually let me–no one’s said no yet–but a lot of people have looked furious about the proceedings.

I don’t think the rules have changed since I moved to TO–but in order to not simply start hating everyone, I have been imagining the interior monologues of these people, trying to empathize with how they must somehow feel wronged by my desire to sit beside them.

Here’s what I’ve got, for only some of the encounters I have had.

1) I am in love! I am in love and texting my beloved! Texting is our bond! If I do not text him immediately, he might not know I love him! Textless, he might break up with me! Then I would be loveless, heartbroken, life would not be worth living. I might die. I see a shadow. There is someone standing over me, but I cannot stop texting “OMG, I <3<3<3 u!!!!!!" to see what this shadow wants. Clearly, it is less important than love. Even if the shadow is in love with me, I am spoken for. Probably. Unless the shadow is super-hot...maybe I should look up? 2) That young woman is clearly young and slender, while I am feeling fat and old today. My friends tell me that I am neither fat nor old but they are lying so that they won’t have to deal with my problems. I’m not going to squinch up in this narrow little molded plastic seat, I’m not going to let her make me feel fat. Alone, my thigh can perhaps inch a bit over the seat divider and no one cares, but if that little gym rat were sitting next to me, she’d shift awkwardly away and make me feel like a big fat cow. No way am I letting her insult me like that. She can stand on her gym-toned legs. 3) That young woman has a big ass. If she sat down next to me, I would have to squinch awkwardly into the aisle to accomodate her ass. After a hard day, I deserve to have full access to my complete molded plastic TTC seat. I am not responsible for her lack of willpower regarding molasses taffy. She should stand–it tones the glutteal muscles. 4) I am in a gang. Gang members get full control of the back seats on busses. How can you not know this, lady in the tights with flowers on them? Clearly, you are not in a gang, but you should still respect the entitlements of gang members. See this enormous cubic zirconium in my left ear? See this silver flip-phone with rhinstone bedazzling? This is bling, flower-lady. Where is your bling? Ok, you have bling, but it is in the form a butterfly broach. Are you in the butterfly gang? No, no you are not, because there is no such thing, and therefore you have no right to any seat in the back row. They are all mine. Go away, and come back when you’ve joined a gang. What do you think–am I close? I know this is sort of game is a poor substitute for accepting that people are a little rude sometimes, but I like my way better. Please, feel free to play along! RR

October 20th, 2009

Metcalf-Rooke stuff

Y’all know that Amy Jones’ book launch is tonight, right? Ushering in a new era of Metcalf-Rooke awesomeness. Though I seem to have a tiny angry bird living in my left temple, I’m going to be there–and if I can do it, so can you!!

And then on Thursday, Amy and I and Carrie Snyder are reading at the New Quarterly issue launch at the Art Bar in Kitchener, which should be awesome. Provided the bird is free by then. Or dead, I suppose. I should not come up with metaphors when I’m feeling poorly. Glad I’ll have articulate folks to listen to tonight.

RR