Owls' Court

Fifteen Minutes and Counting

Do you feel it, my fellow NaNos? The heart beating slightly faster, that tremble in the fingers?

We're in the last fifteen minutes before November First. My husband has just prepared a new sketchbook, and has sharpened pencils with his knife. I've cleared off the end of my desk and plugged in my laptop. There's a pot of Lady Grey brewing.

Word count must be posted before we sleep. This is a lousy time for a headache to attack my right temple.

The World Stresses Me, Part 947

I am much, much too awake for almost-eleven-thirty on a weekday night.

In a fit of irritation with Canada Post's ineptitude at tracking XpressPost packages this afternoon, I searched the USPS site for my lost-in-transition packet of contracts. (You know, the one that was supposed to be on the managing editor's desk by Tuesday? The one that was guaranteed to be at its destination on Monday by the very latest?) It was delivered Wednesday afternoon. I'm so relieved that it got there, I'm not even upset that it missed the deadline by one day. (Okay, I'm a wee bit upset. Just a wee bit.)

A single day remains until NaNo begins. I now have a couple of 5x7 inch pages of notes. Not, of course, on plot, but on potential characters. I'm beginning to understand that my approach to novel-writing mirrors my approach to role-playing: the story grows out of the characters and their choices. I'd write terrible mystery novels; I'm just not interested in working the puzzle out. I like watching how people interact while they puzzle-solve, instead.

I'm going to go light some candles, put on some relaxing music, and read in bed for a while. Maybe that will help the wakefulness.

What's Your Story?

Other NaNo folk keep asking what I'm going to write about. If I knew...

Seriously, though, I was much further along in my pre-production development last year. This year I have a couple of character names, a psychic ferret, and an opening scene.

And that's about it.

This year will be an interesting experiment in a stream-of-consciousness style of writing. I've done this with the Great Canadian Novel (and more academic papers than I care to remember; how I maintained an A- average, I will never know), and countless short stories; even a certain amount of last year's NaNo success And By Many Other Names used the technique. This year will be quite different, though.

I'm finally reaching a point where I'm becoming interested in actively writing once again. After the amount of editing and work-for-hire writing I've been doing, and my aversion to the computer, the idea of creating an entire inclusive fictional work is appealing. I still think I might write a lot of it longhand, which is a huge departure for me; it will make verification difficult, though, and I don't want to waste time retyping when I could be creating. I've enjoyed writing longhand this fall so far, but it might not be practical for November.

I think I'll take some time this afternoon with my notebook and brainstorm some ideas. Along the way I'll make notes on what kind of research books I'll need at my side. For example, last year I had a stack of reference books on Isis by my computer (thereby commencing a lifelong connection with Her). For the Great Canadian Novel, I found travel books on Paris. This year, I need books on ferrets and Hecate.

Yes. Ferrets and Hecate. You read that right. Two words you never expected to see together. It isn't, alas, a GoogleWhack.

Someone explain to me how

Someone explain to me how increased violence in Iraq means that the US is succeeding in whatever it is that they think they're doing over there? Please?

Unbirthday Gifts

There's nothing like receiving a present on someone else's birthday!

We went out to Fondumentale last night (highly recommended!) to celebrate Roo's first quarter-century, and Maia-at-Twilight gave her a tin of tea from Betjeman & Barton, the Westmount tea shop on Sherbrooke. I bounced around because I love that shop, and seeing the red bag meant that good things were inside. Then Maia-at-Twilight handed me a little packet of tea, a present for no particular reason - the very best kind. "I had to," she said. "Look at the name."

Sonate d'Automne. Well, of course she had to.

It's an eau de fruits, similar to a tisane, and it's delicious. It has almonds, and a mellow smoky fruit flavour. Perfect for an overcast fall day. I think it's about to become a NaNo tea. Last year's NaNo tea was, of course, Twining's Lady Grey. The drink of choice for the Great Canadian Novel (when I'm working on it, that is; once I realised that I had accidentally finished writing it, I decided to leave it until 2004 and then edit it, since it's essentially finished and requires only the current chapters rejigged, and possibly a chapter added) is Vanilla Coke. Odd how I associate certain beverages with certain projects.

I scurried about tying up loose ends of work and such yesterday. As of eleven-ish, my contracts still hadn't arrived in Massachussets, so I'm rolling up my sleeves to give the US postal service a kick to help them along. The Canada Post tracking service informs me that the packet left Canada on the 22nd, so the delay is on the US side. XpressPost guarantees three to five day delivery, so it ought to have been there last week. That sound you hear is my foot tapping.

Not Wholly Embarrassing

The first rehearsal went rather well for someone sight-reading dramatic tempo changes and key changes all over the map.

We played the Puccini Credo, which always gives me weak knees. To play it was an incredible experience. I'm going to have to put in a lot of focused rehearsal time over the next two and a half weeks in order to catch up. It will be wonderfully worth it, though.

Orchestra No. 2

It's official - I'm playing in Cantabile's November 15 concert. Details are below on the left in the Autumn Is Performing box. If you're a fan of vocals or choral music, this is the one to go to; Puccini's Messa di Gloria is something else again.

And look what I found: photos from the LCO Canada Day concert! This is a beautiful shot of my back:

Yes, that's the lovely black linen dress I found for summer concerts. Too bad you can't see the shoes I found to go with it...

I hate, hate, hate that

I hate, hate, hate that my whole day can be put off by a single, small, event.

I had a terrific evening with close friends last night which involved poetry, much discussion of phobias rooted in childhood, fairy tales and nursery rhymes, Little House on the Prairie, and lots of my father's delicious red wine. I woke up with my day all planned, and settled down to review and correct a pile of student homework.

The very first thing I picked up was a journal which began with negative response to, and criticism of, the material covered in the first two classes, and questioned the teachers' qualifications to teach them.

It soured everything. The next two journals and sets of homework I read were fantastic, full of reflection and creative, thoughtful responses to the home exercises. If only I had picked up one of them first!

Why do we focus on the negative issues to the exclusion of the positive? Why do we remember the bad things, but not the good?

I resent the fact that this person has affected me to this extent. Logically I know that it's a personal response, and it's perfectly valid in a journal, but it doesn't change the fact that it was the very first thing I read. I'm irritated because it had such an effect on me. As a result, now I'm grumpy, and nothing I seem to do snaps me out of it.

To quote a very old friend: "muttergrumblegrr."

My Cool New Career Means Drink More

I promise, promise, promise that as soon as my contracts have reached the publisher and All Is Official, I will signal the simultaneous opening of virtual champagne across North America. Then we can all drink to me and my Cool New Career. Yay me.

In the meantime I'll chew my fingernails yet again, hoping they get to where they need to be on time.

Maybe once all that's over with I can think about NaNo.

INFJ

Because I am highly amused by this:

Maybe I just hang out with author-types, but it's same answer that Ceri scored on the test.

What I found interesting were these scores:

Doing a bit of research I discovered that INFJs (Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging types) typically displat traits such as, or similar to, the following:

Intuitively understand people and situations
Idealistic
Highly principled
Complex and deep
Natural leaders
Sensitive and compassionate towards people
Service-oriented
Future-oriented
Value deep, authentic relationships
Reserved about expressing their true selves
Dislike dealing with details unless they enhance or promote their vision
Constantly seeking meaning and purpose in everything
Creative and visionary
Intense and tightly-wound
Can work logically and rationally - use their intuition to understand the goal and work backwards towards it

Apparently, [t]hey need to feel as if everything they do in their lives is in sync with their strong value systems - with what they believe to be right. Accordingly, the INFJ should choose a career in which they're able to live their daily lives in accordance with their deeply-held principles, and which supports them in their life quest to be doing something meaningful. Hey, that sounds kind of familiar...

And what's right at the top of the career list for INFJ-types? Clergy / Religious Work, directly followed by Teachers. A couple lower we find Alternative Health Care Practitioners, Counselors and Social Workers, and Musicians and Artists.

So nice to know I'm pursuing paths generally considered rewarding for my personality type. And yet... not so nice to be this predictable. (That's probably an INFJ thing too, I'll bet.)

INFJ is apparently the rarest personality type, coming in at a whopping 2% of the population. Read all about 'em here, and here too. And here, if you want more.

More Orchestra?

I was offered a place in a second orchestra last night. Nothing says "You're more talented than you think you are" like someone else asking you to come in to support a weak cello section, let me tell you. Autumn to the rescue!

Interestingly enough, Cantabile was founded by my current LCO conductor, Douglas Knight, though it's been led by Peter Willsher for a few years now. Go figure.

Cantabile is a choral group with a full orchestra. On November 15 in a Lachine they're performing Puccini's Messa di Gloria and Elgar's Enigma Variations. Since this is rescue operation, I don't know whether I'll stay on full-time, especially as rehearsals overlap a bit with the class I teach on Sundays. However, for the three weeks until the concert, I can be flexible.

The odd part is that the choir is peppered with people I used to sing with about ten years ago. It's going to be a bit awkward, I think. I'm a very different person, I use a different name, and, well, I'm not as mousy and tremblingly polite as I used to be. I probably still be polite, of course. It won't be the same, though. Am I making sense? I'm a whole decade older; I like to think I'll be comfortable enough to walk away and enjoy being by myself as opposed to empowering others by being a patronised audience.

In all likelihood l'm being very uncharitable, and they'll all probably be delighted to see me. Besides, I'm focusing more on the fact that this is going to be an excellent test of my sight-reading; there are only three regular rehearsals before the concert, after all.

So the same day I

So the same day I receive my clergy ordination certificates in the mail (look, yet another diploma to add to my collection), I find a review copy of my teacher's latest book from his publisher in my home mailbox.

Synchronicity, nothing!

See What Happens When You Miss a Coffee Meet, YUL NaNos?

And for those NaNo-ers who missed the coffee meeting on Sunday:

I have acquired a ferret. Is he psychic? That's for him to know, and him to know.

Blessed Samhain

Instead of me posting something about Samhain, I'm sending you over to Ceridwen's Cauldron to read The Difference Between Samhain and Hallowe'en. It's possibly the best article on the issue that I've ever read. No, hang that; it is the best thing I've ever read.

Go. Read.

Author Event

I just received news that the annual Hallowe'en party for which I create my costume has been cancelled this year. On one hand, this is bad news; I love this party. On the other hand, it's just fine, because the only investment I've made in my costume this year so far is make-up. It also means I can tuck this idea away and use it next year. Voila! I am so prepared for 2004!

I had a wonderul weekend with Trish Telesco, our most recent visiting author. It's always a good sign when the first thing an author says after she's introduced to you is, "She's wonderful! Can I take her home?" Turns out she's done work under a pen name in the past for the US publisher I've signed on with, so we ended up talking business about potential titles over dinner on Saturday night. (Further proof that it is, indeed, a Very Small World.) There was a moment over dessert that made me freeze up under a coolness wave, when I realised that if she writes a title for this new series, I'll be writing a two-page preface for it.

Having worked in the book business for twelve years means that I've met more than my share of authors, and have discovered that they're Just People. More than that, being a writer myself, I know that creating books is Work, Hard Work. So when I hang out with authors, they're just people who do the same thing I do. Of course, there's a tiny part of my brain screaming that they're Famous People Who Do What I Do, but that's the fangirl part of me which is kept firmly under control. (At least, gods, I hope so! I don't remember ever gushing to any of the authors I've hosted...)

Caution: Rant

I have to rant.

If you work in a bookstore, and a book has in its title, oh, I don't know, "Wicca", and you have a section called "Wicca", don't you think the book should go in that section instead of a completely unrelated section? (Substitute "Christianity", or "Buddhism", or whatever floats your boat. It goes in that section, not a section marked "Islam" or "VoDoun".)

And if you're shelving a book, shouldn't it go next to the other copies of that book already on the shelf, rather than two shelves below it next to a completely different book? (If you try to use the shelving by title excuse, you automatically die.)

If someone wants to pay me for reshelving books that are already put out, I'll do it. But otherwise, there's no excuse. If you're a bookstore employee and have been for any period of time over one month, you should understand the sections of that bookstore (clearly marked) and the methods of operation utilised within that bookstore (clearly outlined in the handbook and reiterated several times at staff meetings).

On the other hand, the graffitti in high school washrooms amuses me. They call each other "hoes". I wonder if they understand that by misspelling the insult, they're comparing themselves to gardening implements.

Catching Up

Ah, the first cold I've had in months. I so have not missed being sick. The general ache, the out-of-it feeling due to the sinus pressure, the boxes and boxes of tissue....

Thursday night I had a dynamic pair of students in a workshop, which was an enjoyable switch from the usual silent note-taking type. Friday night I got to make a flying visit to the first Montreal NaNo coffee gathering and met some terrific new people while re-acquainting myself with terrific people I'd met last year. And, as a result of a highly amusing misunderstanding, I have resolved that my story will have a psychic ferret involved in it somewhere (you just had to be there). (And I called Tal insane. Ah, well. There's a reason we're related by choice.)

It was a lovely Thanksgiving weekend (apart from the cold, of course, which ensured that I couldn't taste my in-laws' wonderful harvest feast to the degree it deserved), with a nice gift at the end: Salem, my favourite local cat-who-is-not-mine, ate about 30 ccs of food after refusing to eat for a period of days. Sure, it took three of us to hold her (including one and a half animal techs), but she ate; she even ate willingly after being force-fed a bit of it. Then I got to cuddle a corn snake while I watched the new trailers for Matrix Revolutions and The Return of the King.

This afternoon is a legal presence at the Palais de Justice (no worries, it's all good), and then an intimate get-together at Hurley's to celebrate a few different milestones achieved over the past three months.

(Palais de Justice, for our non-Quebec-resident readership, is the fancy French term for the city courthouse. It does not, in fact, have anything to do with a superhero team. More's the pity.)

Slowly but surely, I'm getting my mind back into the writing mode. I managed to get my printer working again (using the popular kick-it-hard method combined with replacing an ink cartridge) and printed out the existing copy of two half-finished stories, then took them to the Second Cup with me Friday afternoon to edit and add to them. Re-reading work that I haven't touched in months is a remarkably good carrot to use when I'm stuck; it's often better than I remember it being. Must stop drinking lattes and mochas while doing it, though. Herbal tea all the way!

Pictures from the Salon Occulte

Pictures from the Salon Occulte are up here! That stunning dress Debra is wearing is Cassandra's actual costume from the Highlander TV series. We who are costume-obsessed are all terribly envious. We're also proud, because damn, she looks good!

New

I awoke with the glimmerings of a NaNo novel idea.

And I have a costume idea for the end of the month.

Now in both cases I simply have to flesh them out and figure out how to accomplish them. Easier said than done, of course...

Oh my sweet gods --

Oh my sweet gods -- I have a contract.

It's full of legalese, and I just read it in shock, so I'll have to try again tomorrow. But --

I have a contract.

I keep having this awful feeling that eventually they'll figure out who I really am, and take it all back in horror. I mean, they're using me as a selling point. Me, for heaven's sake.

Tomorrow. It will be different tomorrow.

I’m not dead. I took

I’m not dead. I took Monday off – no phone, no computer – and I worked yesterday on author promotion, as I’ll be doing today and tomorrow.

The Salon Occulte was great; insane hours, hence truly exhausting, but fun. More updates when I get to sit down again on my own time at my own desk, which will likely not be until Friday as I'm at a lecture tonight, and I'm teaching tomorrow night.

After long hours of design,

After long hours of design, construction, painting, assembling, and stocking, our booth is up at the Salon Occulte.

And it ROCKS!

If someone gets a digital shot of it, I'll post it in all its 16' x 20', freestanding secret-garden-in-fall-foliage glory. Seriously, it's the most impressive home-away-from-home I've ever seen on the festival circuit. We were freaking out other exhibitors during set-up yesterday. And sure, there's that aspect which is kind of neat, but really, we're just in this for lots of fun. And publicity. And networking. Breaking even would be nice too. Fun most of all, though. Definitely.

I am so lucky to freelance for such a cool place, with such cool people, and get the chance to play like this. Really, it feels like we made a grown-up fort or clubhouse or something. It comes down in three days, but till then, we get to play!

Did I mention that we get to dress up?

TV Date!

Okay, so I was wrong about the vanishing thing. I worked late on the publishing stuff last night, and I needed to be online for it, so I posted a few times.

The cool part is that I finished around eleven, when my husband arrived home to switch on the TV and discovered, completely by accident, the very first episode of Angel, season five. Swoon! I have a new TV date!

Confirmation of Insanity, Year Two

Okay, I re-activated my NaNo account, thereby confirming my insanity. (For the non-initiates, NaNo is shorthand for NaNoWriMo, which in turn is short for National Novel Writing Month.)

And what's with all these people with titles, for heaven's sake? Good goddess! I mean, really Tal - Squirrelman? (What scares me more is that he told me this morning that he had a plot this time. I fear for his sanity. But then again, it's all about accidental quality, right, Tal?)

I could go the easy way and write the sequel to the 2002 NaNo triumph known as And By Many Other Names, or I could plunge into something new and discover as I go. Somehow, I feel that having a plot before I begin is cheating, for some inane reason. Personally, I'm looking forward to Ceri's ever-evolving naming adventure - it's a new title every day!

I will no doubt change my mind in the thirty days which remain between myself and the start line. If, that is, I'm allowed a spare moment to think about November along the way.

My contract with the hitherto

My contract with the hitherto unnamed American Publisher is in the mail.

What? Oh, that sound? It's my Ego tap-dancing joyously to the tune of "I told you it was real", as performed by my SuperEgo.

When I have it in my hands, signed and returned, All Will Be Revealed. Just like the penultimate song in a Savoy operetta. (The ultimate song is, of course, the finale, which is just a rehash of the major themes previously heard during the show.)

Bye

Just a quick note to say that I'm going to vanish for a bit. We're doing a huge esoteric expo this weekend, and as of today my life belongs to it. Simultaneously, I'm doing another "need by tomorrow" project for the US publisher (who will be mailing a contract to me this week, I hear), as well as publicising an author visit scheduled for next Wednesday. You might hear from me on Monday, but I devoutly hope that I will be asleep.

Enjoy the first weekend of October. Did you remember to say, "White rabbits, white rabbits, white rabbits"?