If you’re interested in joining me at an attempt at National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) November 2012, get in touch! They suggest a goal of 50,000 words in the month, but something is better than nothing! I’m at shawn (dot) bird (at) ymail (dot) com or you can leave a message here: https://shawnbird.com/about/
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NaNoWriMo_FlyerNaNoWriMo_Flyer.pdf
Are you going to NaNoWriMo? October 14, 2012
What’s the point of fashion, anyway? October 13, 2012
Fashion matters because every day people get up in the morning and, with the palette of clothes they find in their closets and dressers, they attempt to create a visual poem about a part of themselves they wish to share with the world.
J.J. Lee. Measure of a Man. p. 53
I was raised by a mother who loved fashion and filled her basement with fabric, patterns and notions. She crafted beautiful garments, and rarely threw anything out. Which meant when we moved her from Kelowna here to Salmon Arm, we moved eight closets full of her clothes, and a hundred or so pairs of shoes. It also meant that Vogue magazine was a staple in our house, and that I grew up with a keen eye on clothes.
J. J. Lee wrote his biography of his father within the context of his time as an apprentice tailor. His father’s suit provided an exploration of the suit as symbol and metaphor in his own life, but also in the life of all men. Clothing makes the man, and he was trying to figure out the man the clothing made.
I love his expression of fashion as a visual poem. It’s very accurate. Our clothes give the message we wish to send to the world on any particular day. Whether it’s laid back casual with jeans and a Tshirt or cute and quirky with a hat, bright tunic and leggings, we say something about ourselves. But we don’t wear the same thing every day, just as we wouldn’t write the same poem every day.
Every day we adorn ourselves to be a visual poem.
I like that.
Dancing around the world October 12, 2012
If you are willing to celebrate in whacky ways, sometimes the world comes along with you. I visit Youtube now and then to enjoy watching Matt dance around the world. He had no style, but he had enthusiasm, and an infectious joy. It is impossible for me to watch the video without a giggle.
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Things have changed though. The 2012 video shows Matt branching out to embrace the world of ethnic dancing styles and large group choreography. It’s not the sweet simple fun it once was, but I got chills when the group was dancing in front of Sibelius monument in Helsinki. I recognized streets in several countries. I had been there, and that makes the 2012 video rather profound. We change. We must accept that things are ‘Not better. Not worse. Just different.” There’s always something to appreciate in the new, even when we are feeling a little nostalgic for the old. Matt’s growing up, and apparently his family is, too.
Celebrate.
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critic? October 11, 2012
I am not a critic; to me criticism is so often nothing more than the eye garrulously denouncing the shape of the peephole that gives access to hidden treasure.
Djuna Barnes. “The Songs of Synge: The Man Who Shaped His Life as He Shaped His Plays”, in New York Morning Telegraph (18 February 1917)
I love a lot of books. Some the critics hate, but I have forged connections with them, and so they speak to me. Some books, the critics love, and I hate with an abiding passion. 100 Years of Solitude is one. I don’t relate to any of it, and the fact that half the characters have the exact same name is exasperating.
I love the Twilight Saga. At present, it’s not cool to admit that, and someone who is an English teacher is supposed to be distracted by the poor writing. I didn’t find anything so terrible that it distracted me from the story. The story and the characters I could relate to. I recognized the dilemmas and the challenges. I respected the characteristics that don’t meet the societal norms. I loved them, critics (or cool kids) be damned.
Someone did a poll on Twitter asking whether we want to be critically admired or on a best seller list. I’m not sure that the two concepts are mutually exclusive, but I would be quite delighted with readers over awards. On the other hand, I’d be very proud of awards. We write to be read, though. If our words speak to the people, but are panned by the critics, then perhaps the critics are out of touch?
What about you? Would you rather be read or lauded? Do you read books recommended by the critics or by your low-bred friends?
(Lord David, you can’t answer than one, since I’m sure all your friends are high-bred!) ;-P
inspirational kids October 10, 2012
I’ve already told you that I occasionally use the names of my students (with their permission, of course) in my stories. The characters are not representations of their namesakes; they have their own adventures, conflicts, and personalities which are completely distinct. Still, sometimes the fictional and real have the odd thing in common.
For example, in Grace Awakening Myth there’s a character called J-Roy. You learned the other day that J-Roy dances, is athletic, and looks great in a unitard.
The real J-Roy is also pretty tough. Look who’s a head-liner in a local mixed martial arts fight? Uh huh. Ben desperately needs all the help he can get. I wonder if J. Roy will give him fighting lessons? 😉
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Four years ago… October 9, 2012
The week before Thanksgiving in 2008, I was given Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight Saga to read by one of my English students. That Thanksgiving weekend I bought my own copies of the books, read through the series again, and then poured over Stephenie Meyer’s website, reading everything I could about the genesis of the story, the process of writing, what she’d done to find an agent, and the adventure her life had become.
I was completely, totally, thoroughly inspired. An idea sparked. I’d had a story floating in my head for decades. I’d written it down in a couple of versions before, but it wasn’t right. I had known I needed a hook, but I just couldn’t figure out what it could be. Stephenie gave me the solution: mythology. Just as she had used vampires and werewolves, Greek mythology could be melded into the experience I wanted to share in order to provide the depth and conflict that had been missing in previous drafts.
The Tuesday after Thanksgiving (that is, this very day four years ago) I began writing Grace Awakening. That first day, I wrote about five double spaced pages. The second day I did the same. Then the third. By the end of three weeks I had 75 pages of writing. I set the goal to keep writing 25 pages a week. I met or exceeded that goal each subsequent week. Twenty three weeks later, the first draft was complete. It was the week before Easter, and I had 155,000 words.
A couple of weeks after Thanksgiving in 2009, I went to the Surrey International Writers Conference. I pitched the book to a small Vancouver publisher. She was interested and asked to see more.
A week before Thanksgiving in 2010 I signed the contracts with Gumboot Books.
In 2011, Gumboot Books went out of business, but Grace Awakening Dreams was released anyway through Lintusen Press in July. By Thanksgiving 2011, it had been in the list of Top iTunes Fantasy books in Canada over a hundred times.
In 10 days, I’ll be back to the Surrey International Writers’ Conference to pitch Grace Awakening Myth, a companion novel that tells Ben’s version of his battle for Grace.
It’s a lot to be thankful for: four years of creativity, empowerment, challenge, excitement, growth, and adventure. It’s been an amazing ride!
Four years ago, when I started typing, I would not have been brave enough to imagine that I’d be in this place today. But here I am. My friend Heather observed, “Where will you be in another 4 years? Do you not love the “wait and see”‘ of life?” The thought of it hit me in the gut. Where will I be? I can only dream where Grace will be, keep writing, and hope I’m holding tightly to her coat tails as she explores the world!
Fare thee well, Raylene October 8, 2012
Last week cancer claimed 52 year old Canadian singer Raylene Rankin, a member of Cape Breton Nova Scotia’s Rankin Family. Her stratospheric soprano voice empowered the harmonies of their Gaelic folk songs. Here is the Rankin Family in 2010 at Toronto’s Massey Hall, performing one of her signature songs, “We Rise Again.”
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Requiescat in pace Raylene Rankin 1960-2012
Keep those angels entertained, Raylene.
HELP! Which start is your favourite?
I’m unhappy with the opening to Grace Awakening Myth. I need something strong , intriguing and compelling.
I’m brainstorming, and would appreciate some feedback from you! Here are six versions of the first 100 words or so. Version one is the original. Which do you think is the strongest option? Can you identify why it appeals to you? Would you mix components of a couple of the options? Please leave your observations in the comment section below. (Though I see many of you are using Facebook, and that’s all right as well). Thanks for your help!
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Version 6:
Aphrodite’s words exploded in my head like a missile shot from a catapult, leaving me dizzy and stunned.
I stared at her as the words ricocheted through my head, smashing through my consciousness, crushing my hopes, and destroying my future.
Finally, I sputtered, “What did you say?” It couldn’t be true. She couldn’t have said what I heard.
Aphrodite stood, her back to the temple columns, watching me solemnly. “Oh, Orpheus,” she sighed. “I said, ‘This is that girl’s last life time in the Earthly Realm. If you are to have her for eternity, she must choose you this time.’”
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Version 5:
Aphrodite’s words exploded in my head like the sound of crashing swords, leaving me dizzy and stunned.
Finally, I gasped, “What did you say?”
Aphrodite stood, her back to the templecolumns, watching me solemnly. “Oh, Orpheus,” she sighed. “I said, ‘This is that girl’s last life time in the Earthly Realm. If you are to have her for eternity, she must choose you this time.’”
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Version 4:
Aphrodite was watching me with a solemnly pitying expression as I came over the hill. She leaned languidly against a pillar, golden hair flowing around her in waves, waiting.
She made me nervous. I bowed low. “You wished to speak to me?”
She nodded, stepping forward and straightening into a formal posture. “I am to inform you, that this is the girl’s last life time in the Earthly Realm. If you are to have her for eternity, she must choose you this time.”
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Version 3.
Aphrodite leaned against the temple column and watched me warily. “Did you hear what I said, Orpheus?”
I bowed respectfully, shaking my head. I had heard, but I wished fervently that I hadn’t.
“I said, this is that girl’s last life time in the Earthly Realm. If you are to have her for eternity, she must choose you this time.”
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Version 2:
Aphrodite’s words sliced into me like a sword and I wheezed, feeling the blood rush from my face as the pain of them slashed through me. “What did you say?”
Aphrodite stood, her back to the templecolumns, watching me solemnly. “Oh, Orpheus,” she sighed. “I said, ‘This is that girl’s last life time in the Earthly Realm. If you are to have her for eternity, she must choose you this time.’”
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Version 1:
“Orpheus! Come here. I need to talk to you.” Aphrodite stood, her back to the templecolumns, watching me solemnly.
I didn’t like the expression on her face. I bowed respectfully, “Yes?”
“This is that girl’s last life time in the Earthly Realm. If you are to have her for eternity, she must choose you this time.”
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(FYI- this is what follows the above…)
That girl. She tossed the words like Grace was of no consequence. The girl I had followed through time, the girl who made my life complete, and gave me music. The girl who could save all that was good in the world. The girl I was waiting for. My heart started to pound. “Where is she?”
She shook her head. “I’m not allowed to say; you know that.”
“I was told Canada. In Calgary.”
Her eyes widened and she tilted her head, but she made no comment.
The eyes were enough confirmation. At least I didn’t have to scan the entire population of the planet. I only needed to find Grace among the million or so residents of Calgary. I’d come to the city a couple of years before on a tip, and had settled myself into high school there. My informant had assured me that Grace would show up there eventually, but I had reached my final year in high school without any sign of her. I’d begun to doubt, but Aphrodite’s alarmed surprise was enough evidence that I was in the right place. I would try to be patient.
Shawn L. Bird 
how to button your suit. October 15, 2012
Tags: 2, 3, button, double breasted, J. J. Lee, Measure of a Man, suit, three, two, wearing
I didn’t believe it when my husband told me, years ago, that this was the way it is done. However, I’ve just read J. J. Lee’s memoir, and as a tailor’s apprentice and fashion journalist, I bow to his expertise. Lee says that on a two button suit the rule is,
On a three button suit, the top one is a wild card, dependant on the lie of the lapels and the fit of the man wearing it,
I mentioned this to a student wearing a beautiful pin striped double breasted suit on “Dress up like a gangster” day at school. He said, “I’m not traditional.” >>sigh<< There’s traditional, and then there is just ‘wrong.’ 2 plus 2 is traditionally 4, and if you claim it’s 5, you’re just wrong. I decided to look for some photographic evidence to support this button rule, and I looked back to the days of cool suit wearing, studying photos of the Rat Pack. They follow the rule. See?
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