Home…home on the Fringe…
The London Fringe Festival runs from August 4 – August 13.
Go to http://www.londonfringe.ca/ for more details.
I will be reading at FRINGE WORDS
August 9th - (Sometime between 7 p.m. to 9 p.m.)
Alex P. Keaton (Club Fringe)
580 Talbot St. at Albert
London, Ontario
It’s ‘technically’ free but a ‘pass the hat event’.
So bring loonies – both in terms of friends and coinage.
I might also go out for the Fringe Poetry, but
nothing in my archives strikes me as Fringeworthy.
Are dirty limericks a form of prayer?
Still debating that one.
BARDMARKS ™: Book recs
Currently reading Stephen Fry’s Paperweight
Collected essays and newspaper columns by Stephen Fry
Hilariously funny & twisted with a heavy dash of common sense.
9 out of 10 Bardmarks™ for sheer cleverness with the language, bending hackneyed phrases into new and limber Karma Sutra-esque positions.
Head on over to Dana's (Link at left) to see why my nose needs reconstructive surgery.
;-)
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Monday, July 17, 2006
Surrey with a fringe on top...
Writing-wise I need to get out of my rut. So Gramps and I are going to the FRINGE. I've applied to do a reading of my Gramps story "BUNNY HUNTING" at the London Fringe festival next month.
Given my stage fright, I must be out of my mind, but I am determined to not barf in public do my best and make people laugh their fannies off.
I have ten minutes to wow the crowd.
.
.
.
Oh lord...what the hell am I gonna wear?
Writing-wise I need to get out of my rut. So Gramps and I are going to the FRINGE. I've applied to do a reading of my Gramps story "BUNNY HUNTING" at the London Fringe festival next month.
Given my stage fright, I must be out of my mind, but I am determined to
I have ten minutes to wow the crowd.
.
.
.
Oh lord...what the hell am I gonna wear?
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Sandrablabber's latest post on Canadian authors struck a cord with me.
I remember when my mother gave me a copy of Anne of Green Gables and I refused to read it on the basis that anything my mother liked must be lame. Plus Montgomery was Canadian.
Of course, I read it years later and loved it. But I remember my initial reaction.
Only in the past year have I seriously read anything by Canadian authors like Margaret Atwood, Tim Findley and Micheal Ondattje (sp?). I have a book by Joyce Carol Oates to read as well, although she is American by birth but moved and taught in Canada later, not unlike Spider Robinson.
I am getting past the 'cough syrup' idea of literature. For some reason I never did get to read the Catcher in the Rye in school. I want to read it now. Perhaps because I don't have to.
Regardless. Sandra's rant on the lack of CanCop series gave me pause. Somewhere, buried in boxes, I have interviews with a dozen or so myster authors from about ten years ago I did for the Ottawa chapter of Sisters in Crime. I should dig them up and post them.
Right now I still have to find half my office supplies first.
Moving sucks.
* * * *
The Forest City, she found, had a castle in the centre of it. The bricks of red looked as if they had been made of dried blood, the creamy stone of the turrets a shade of tears. She dwelled in a high tower where she could look out and see it well.
I remember when my mother gave me a copy of Anne of Green Gables and I refused to read it on the basis that anything my mother liked must be lame. Plus Montgomery was Canadian.
Of course, I read it years later and loved it. But I remember my initial reaction.
Only in the past year have I seriously read anything by Canadian authors like Margaret Atwood, Tim Findley and Micheal Ondattje (sp?). I have a book by Joyce Carol Oates to read as well, although she is American by birth but moved and taught in Canada later, not unlike Spider Robinson.
I am getting past the 'cough syrup' idea of literature. For some reason I never did get to read the Catcher in the Rye in school. I want to read it now. Perhaps because I don't have to.
Regardless. Sandra's rant on the lack of CanCop series gave me pause. Somewhere, buried in boxes, I have interviews with a dozen or so myster authors from about ten years ago I did for the Ottawa chapter of Sisters in Crime. I should dig them up and post them.
Right now I still have to find half my office supplies first.
Moving sucks.
* * * *
The Forest City, she found, had a castle in the centre of it. The bricks of red looked as if they had been made of dried blood, the creamy stone of the turrets a shade of tears. She dwelled in a high tower where she could look out and see it well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)