More realisations that make me feel sick:

Ceri, didn’t I write about this in chapter August of the Great Canadian Novel? Except fortunately enough for me, the laptop didn’t die while I was actually writing…

Life can stop imitating art any time now, thanks.

Sheer panic!

My laptop won’t recognise the AC power source!

Yes, this is dire, how dare you smirk. I don’t write at my desktop computer; I use my laptop. My desktop is for work-type work, and for e-mail, and internet work. I sit elsewhere in the house to novelise with my up-till-now trusty laptop. Yes, it’s a mental thing. Yes, I know that logically I could write at my desktop. It’s just not the same, though, and there’s so much to distract me here.

Aaaauuuggghh!

The seige is over. Maggie-cat is romping with the kitten.

How…how, I ask you, do my fingernails get so darned dirty? It’s not like I dig around in potted plants. I type all day, for heaven’s sake…

The Montreal Pagan community is an odd beast. It eats its young, and displays apathy in most respects except griping and back-biting and, well, being apathetic. Coming into the community at a time where knives were still being sharpened, grudges were being held, and politics were raging, I decided I wanted nothing to do with it and stayed a solitary practitioner until such time as I slowly started to talk to others of like mind, and then, well, it was teaching and working in the local esoteric shop, and opening Canada’s first drop-in Pagan resource centre, teaching, doing interviews on radio and with journalists, more teaching… and somehow, like it or not, I was a public figure, although not of the community. Like others who had no time or patience for histrionics and back-stabbing, I shared with personal friends and kept myself to myself. I dipped a toe into the community with the resource centre, but the commnity bit back so savagely that I withdrew. When generousity of energy and effort is rebuffed so often, you learn your lesson. (Fortunately, the centre still functions, due to the enthusiasm of several volunteers, whom I pray do not burn out community-wise, as I did.) So I kept myself to myself.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday was one of those odd coincidences that you can’t wriggle out of. I make it a point to tell as many people as I can about the city’s public rituals so they can get an idea of a variety of traditions and meet other people involved in this path. So when I told my students two weeks ago, they became quite excited, until we realised that our weekly class would overlap with the ritual. “Oh, well,” I said, “never mind. Sorry.”

And then one of them said, “Well, couldn’t we all go together? Like a field trip? We can come to class an hour early, and finish an hour early so we could go.”

“Yes, yes!” the others cried, excited. “We’ve never been to a ritual!”

Uh-oh. These men and women were now looking to me, their teacher, to lead them into a public ritual and share the experience.

Gulp.

I’ve led many a ritual, public, private, you name it. I’ve attended many aritual, here, elsewhere. I teach a Designing Rituals class. The irony of it is that I’ve never actually attended a specific Montreal Pagan community open public ritual.

So off we went yesterday, the first time for everyone. And it was a wonderful experience. I was unaware, and subsequently delighted to discover, that one of my past students was playing a key part in the ritual (her first such performance), and I was bursting with pride for her. My current students were nervous, but they enjoyed themselves immensely – so much, in fact, that I think we’ll start making this a regular outing.

I must also extend a huge thank-you to the core people who were involved in producing yesterday’s ritual, especially my personal friends. Your efforts were truly appreciated. So was the welcoming attitude displayed by those same people who had been in the community way back when I first sent out tentative feelers, about seven years ago. They recognised me, and they welcomed me. I’m not quite sure what I expected; after rebuff and nasty comments in general from the community for the projects I was involved in, I was a bit timid. All fears have been allayed, now, however.

So you see, yesterday was quite the series of achievements.

And then I wrote a few NaNoWriMo pages, and we had dinner, and we watched some old Muppet Show episodes, and we went to another Hallowe’en party. So all in all, it was a pretty amazing day. Except for the fact that Buffy was a repeat already, alas…

5,312 words.

One-tenth of the way there. Twenty pages. Five hours. A chapter and a bit.

I’m fairly certain that there’s no way I can keep this up, as easy as this seemed. It’s too good to be true.

Yawn. Good night.

(Ssssh� don�t look now� but it�s snowing.)

It�s November. Start your engines! Let’s see… 50,000 words divided by thirty days is 1,667 words per day, or approximately 6 double-spaced pages, or 3 1/2 single-spaced pages. Ha! My problem as I lay awake last night was that I couldn’t remember of it was six single-spaced pages, or double-spaced. I’m fine. Three to four single-spaced pages daily? That’s a slow day for me. I am feeling much more confident about this project now.

I forgot to say �white rabbits� this morning, so heaven only knows what I�ve done to myself. Good thing I�m not a superstitious person.

Last night�s live TV studio performance of The True Story of Dracula on COGECO 13 in Kingston by the Midnight Players went brilliantly, if I may say so myself. I saw the opening prologue, which is just me doing a trance-like monologue with our eerie violinist and smoke from the smoke machine, and it was fantastic. In fact, I have been informed that if we ever do a Buffy thing for fun, I get to play Drusilla. Yep, spooky and trance-like; I’ve got it down pat. We have all been promised copies of this tape within the next two weeks, and I can�t wait to see the rest of it. I did have the fortune to catch a bit of JDH�s interview in his folklorist persona, which comes right after my trance prologue, and he looks slightly crazed and very intense as he talks about Vlad. His use of his hands in the clip was fantastic, and those shadows created by the lighting from beneath� brr! I saw it live, but seeing it on tape is a completely different cauldron of apples.

It was an odd experience, actually. I�ve done live theatre; I�ve done film work; I�ve live done radio work. This was a strange amalgamation of the three, and at times it was hard to figure out where to aim: Am I acting? Am I reading a script? How much am I allowed to move? Where do I look? Evidently I did just fine. I looked fantastic, I sounded fantastic, and if they ask us back for a Christmas special, I�m there! (With a few differences � like times get confirmed with us, and we know weeks in advance that we need to come up with our own costumes, and so forth…)