The Next Big Thing

Len Joy  my best writing friend for the last seven years, invited me to join this chain-blog thingy (his words) in which writers answer a set of questions about their recently published book or their work in progress. 

Since I haven’t blogged for what it seems like years and my latest novel is not finished, I was somewhat reluctant to participate, but then I read Tara Laskowski’s interview  about her short story collection "Modern Manners for Your Inner Demons," and decided it would be a fun way to return to blogging. 

But before I start, let me introduce my writing group buddy, a Halifax-based YA author James Leck, who will be blogging from http://jamesleck.blogspot.ca/ on December 26th. His first novel, The Adventures of Jack Lime has been shortlisted for the Hackmatack Children’s Choice Book Award 2012 and the Manitoba Young Reader's Choice Awards 2012. Buy it on amazon.ca or amazon.com .

What is your working title of your book (or story)?

I’m on the 4^th or 5^th (or is it 25^th?) draft of the novel. The first title was “The Sabbatical.” The second title, until very recently, was “Sandara.” Last week it changed to “The Faery,” and I’m sure it will change again.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

When we first came to Nova Scotia four years ago I stumbled upon an abandoned, one room cottage on one of the beaches. I really wanted to populate it, preferably by a witch who’d torment tourists with her dark and wacky magic. At that time I was finishing a different novel and it would be a couple of years until I started writing the current one. Sandara, the woman who lives in this cottage (in my imagination) is not a witch, but many think she is.

What genre does your book fall under?

Accessible Literary with a dash of mystery.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

Younger Sandara: Meryl Streep.

Older Sandara: Meryl Streep. She can pull it off.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Flamboyant, charismatic Sandara is the master of deception and destruction and her exuberant joy, flippant indifference and cutting hatred bring strangers together and tear lovers apart.

Was your book self-published or represented by an agency?

I’m represented by the Beverley Slopen Agency.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

My first draft was relatively fast—maybe about 3-4 months. I knew how the novel would end, but the middle was muddled. I like the process of creating and some level of initial ambiguity. If I pre-planned everything, the writing itself wouldn’t be as fun and rewording. The subsequent drafts, especially “the last draft” take me much longer.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

I’ve always been interested in how people behave in unusual circumstances. I also like to explore the concept of magic. In this novel it is very subtle, but it is still there.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

The novel’s main force is Sandara, but the story is told from the point of views of Frannie, who starts out being Sandara’s friend, and Vera, who is at first a stranger to Sandara.

The End. But please keep on reading. ;-)

Check out the interviews of other participants: 

Len Joy (American Jukebox)

Amber Sparks (May We Shed These Human Bodies)

Bonnie ZoBell (The Whack-Job Girls)

Ashley Inguanta (The Way Home)

Cliff Garstang (What the Zhang Boys Know) I wasn't able to link the interview directly, so scroll down.

James Leck (The Adventures of Jack Lime)

*Note to future participants: I skipped one of the interview questions, so if you'd like to get the full list check one of the links above. 

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This is my total word count at the moment. Look how pretty, look how symmetrical!
This novel is going well, and I'm really excited about all the stuff that's happening in it. Writing it has been fun.

Back in 10,000 words.

I'm still here (sort of)

I set aside my almost finished experimental novel about the Chernobyl accident, and for the last two weeks I've been working on a new novel. I'm 17,000 words into it, and I think about it when falling asleep, and when I wake up.

It is a very different writing experience from my first novel (Swearing in Russian...) In Swearing my protagonist was extremely isolated and introspective, and being in her head was often difficult, as it was such a different mental space. In the current draft I'm writing mostly dialogues--my protagonist is meeting all those strange people, and there's a bit of a mystery going on.

I know that others manage to blog, and FB (may I use it as a verb?) and write novels, and send out short story submissions, and what not. I'm only managing my novel and my kiddos right now. I will blog more when this novel is out of the first draft stage, I promise.

I've wanted to decorate a wild tree for years

Someone else did!

And I couldn't resist snapping this picture! Someone lost a sock??? Or maybe another attempt at tree decoration.

Highway in the snow

I was driving home from a shopping center when it started to snow. A couple of thin flakes, like dandruff, at the red light. The kids told me it was snowing, but I said, naaaaah. Then within seconds, before the light changed, the snow was copious, each snowflake large and fluffy. I could barely see the traffic light. And then I had to turn into the ramp to the highway, so I turned.

I’ve never been on a highway in such a snow, not even as a passenger. My kids screamed ‘Wow, wow, wow!’ And yes, it was that amazing, that beautiful. The snowflakes in the light of the headlights rushed towards me, around me, twirled and jumped in large leaps, then in tiny hops. I was flying in space, amidst stars.

Would you name your child Lenin?

I was reading a similarly titled thread on one of the baby forums, and stumbled on this reply:

"No, I wouldn't. It immediately  makes me think of bed sheets and then I move to thinking about the Beatles. That said, it's not the WORST name I've ever come across and there are far worse associations than bed sheets. :)."

I wasn't sure whether to cry or laugh. I laughed. But it made me a little bit sad too. Even horrific things are easily forgotten, especially in the far away lands.

Now Lenin makes me think of bed bugs, not linens. Word associations can bring up funny ideas.

Other than the bloody dictatorship, what does the name Lenin makes you think of?

Love the ocean, fear the waves

My husband's dream is to go on a cruise. The idea of never needing to cook or do anything for the entire vacation appeals to him. I don't know why not cooking is important to him, as the last time he cooked was 100 years ago.

Ever since the kids and I watched a DVD on rogue waves, we pretty much vetoed a cruise vacation. I'm glad the kids still agree to go to the beach once in a while. In retrospect that very educational DVD might not have been such a great idea.

I just emailed this video to my husband. A cruise ship losing its engine, but still getting to their destination port on time. The waves were pretty big. Like HUGE.

If my husband wants not to cook for a week, he can go on a cruise. Or he can stay home. Though I don't guarantee the same eat till you die selection.

Something that awesome can't be embarrassing

Yesterday I duct taped the right passenger door of our van. Apparently there’s nothing wrong with it, at least according to the mechanics that we just paid close to a thousand bucks to service the van for winter. Despite the fact that there’s nothing wrong with it, it still opens when I drive up hill.

Duct tape is awesome.

My husband of course thinks it is embarrassing to duct tape the door. He also agrees with the mechanic—there’s nothing wrong with the door. Easy to be so level headed, if you never experienced the door opening and my 5 year old holding on for dear life to his seat. (We were just getting out of our driveway, with the speed that my husband calls “is your parking break on?”, but still.)

According to my research, duct tape was originally developed in 1942 as a water resistant sealing tape for ammunition cases. It was also used to repair military equipment, including jeeps, firearms, and aircraft (!). There’s a variety of duct tape that is supposed to hold in up to 160 km/ h winds. I doubt I got that particular variety at Canadian Tire, but I don’t drive that fast anyway.

For the record—this is not my baby. I borrowed it from here. What a patient cutie!

How to buy and lose a book by local authors

Last week in Chapters I stumbled on a group of local authors who got together and self published a book of their stories. Whenever I see an author doing a signing, I stop by and at least chat, and mostly often buy their book. In a rather selfish way I imagine myself in the same situation in a couple of years, and I hope that at least 2-3 people would stop and smile. It is disheartening how many people just rush by.

 My toddler was crying in my arms—we were on our way home, I had no right to stop on my way to the car! My older two kids weren’t pleased either, but I persevered. The authors didn’t look too forlorn or miserable. Doing a signing in a group must be not as depressing as doing it alone. But even then, I ended up buying the book, for $12. All the authors signed it really fast for me, I appreciated that.

Now I want to read it. And I can’t find it. Granted, our van is our second house, as there we have a library, three closets, a collections of bags, emergency food supplies, and somewhere there I lost my glasses. And yet I checked every square inch of that car. Not there. Not in the house either. My only guess is that maybe we quickly tossed it together with the not-to-be-seen kids’ Christmas gifts somewhere in the basement. I will find out on Christmas morning, perhaps. For now I can’t even recall the book’s title. Something about chances and choices, I think.

Night owls

I love the night, and how everything flows after midnight. I like the idea of getting up early and greeting the sun, and when I manage this fit, I’m mostly happy about it. But nothing compares to the peace of the night.

That’s it. This is all I wanted to say today.

But then I decided to do some research on night owls. And guess what? It turns out that night owls are more creative than those other morning people. Yes! At least according to a couple of studies. But then it also said that night people tend to be more extroverted. I’m definitely closer to introversion than extraversion. But I’m still creative.

The sea port market

I don’t like the new Halifax market at the sea port. Unlike the old brewery, it doesn’t have character, at least not yet. The green roof is an admirable effort, but they really have to figure out their parking situation. The traffic jams are horrendous, and I’m not sure the green roof is able to compensate for all the exhaust.

I love the fresh goat milk that we buy there from an Aylesford farm, eggs, and nitrate free meats, but every time I go there, I regret the trip. How busy and hectic it is! How rushed! The modern building has changed the market’s pace, and its spirit.

Most Saturdays it is my heroic husband who goes there, while the kids and I sleep in. We wake up to fresh croissants and milk…Heaven.

Iqaluit calls me?

When I splashed boiling cooking oil on my fingers more than 3 years ago, when we lived in Iqaluit, I had no idea my scar would become a Harry Potter-like indicator. Though I’m not sure what it is telling me. Surely, there isn’t a cooking oil trying to kill me.

Over the years the scar has faded, and I’ve forgotten about the experience. Yesterday I was telling a friend that I miss Iqaluit. In the process of reviving this blog, I started reading my old favourite Iqaluit blogs, and my feelings about that place became quite intense. I loved the simplicity of life there, the landscapes, the pristine whiteness and the cold. I loved living at the edge of the tundra. I would want to live there again, but it is an irrational and impractical longing. My kids are older, they wouldn’t want to leave their friends, their favourite art class, the wonderful library system, the museums…They miss Iqaluit too, but I think they mostly miss our house and their friends, but the friends are no longer there.

As I was talking about Iqaluit, I glanced at my hands, and noticed the scar growing redder and redder. The skin started to itch. After about half an hour, the scar was back to its invisible self.

I’m notoriously bad at googling for obscure phenomena. Anyone has an explanation?

Hurricane Earl 2010

I like the ocean when it is windy. It’s better when it rains. Nova Scotia is full of people like me. During hurricane Earl, which actually was downgraded to tropical storm by the time it got here, but people still call it a hurricane, there were at least 20 cars parked by the entrance of the closed park. A steady stream of people in rain gear, their heads down because of the wind and flying sand, inched against the wind. To see the ocean.

 I left my kids on the side of the road (with my husband) and continued towards the beach. I couldn’t see a thing—the wind was too strong to keep my eyes open. I doubt the wind was still around 120km/h when we got there, but it was still pretty strong. Someone stopped me and yelled in my ear that if I hid behind the washroom I might be able to see something. People are very friendly here.

I expected to see bigger waves, considering all the wind.  On my way back I couldn't walk, I ran--the wind pushed me that hard. And still people were coming, pushing through the wind, then letting the wind push them. To see the ocean.

How to feed ducks

I buy dry corn for the ducks at Frog Pond. Defrosted peas are good too. So are seeds. When I come to the spot with the bench, the ducks hurry out of water and wait. Within a minute a raven flies over and finds a branch above.

The signs at the far end of the park, where most people who walk the trails won’t ever see them, say that feeding ducks isn’t allowed. When I’m there with my bag of duck food, I worry that someone will scold me for breaking the law. I have a response prepared: the ducks haven’t migrated anyway, and now they need their nutrition now. Most people bring them bread. It fills the ducks, but leaves them nutritionally deficient. I bring them corn.

People feel defensive when told that bread isn’t that great for the ducks. I haven’t corrected anyone, of course, but my kids have. My kids care about the ducks maybe a little bit more than I do, so they warn everyone who approaches—bread is bad for the ducks. The usual response is, but that’s what everybody does.

Year after year, poor nutrition and cold winters notwithstanding, the ducks survive.

Fake tree is better than a dead bonsai

Today I convinced the kids to buy a fake Christmas tree. Last year we tried a live one, the one with the roots. It was a little bonsai. This is when we learned that buying a bonsai in a grocery store wasn’t a good idea. They need to be properly winterised, can’t be kept inside (and will die if kept inside), and they are more like a pet than a plant—those who are serious about the art never leave on vacation.

We also found out that most bonsais sold in grocery stores and even nurseries, are already dead. Scratch the bark with your fingernail—if what you see is brown, the tree is already dead. The healthy color is green.  Ours was also mislabelled, and it meant hours of trying to identify it, posting photos on various bonsai forums, and finding out that the experts were simply unsure.

We ended up giving it away to a friend with an unheated sunroom. Maybe it did survive.

For my daughter a cut Christmas tree is not an option. What most people would call “live” is dead to her, and she doesn’t want a tree to die just for her. So the bonsai was out too, even she understood that after the last year’s desperate attempts to save it. The only logical choice was a fake tree.

It wasn’t easy to find a tree without lights already attached. We finally found one that looked just like a real one, even from up close.

While we were shopping, it started snowing. By the time we drove home, the snow turned into rain.