Something Fell

2011-06-21T08:08:00.001-07:00

Forner!

Digital Neo-Surrealist Favism Visionary of Low Brow Collage and a Fat Italian Bastard.
What is known about Giovanni Forneri.

Forner! (pronounced For near eh!) Italian-born artist currently missing/presumed dead and/or living in an undisclosed location in Canada.

Forener! was born in Rome in 1969. Like many Italian males he was burdened with an excess of personality and a nicotine addiction by age five. Little is known about Forner! except that he has never legally married, he smokes those tiny cigars to excess and he was excommunicated by age nine (a precautionary measure by the Vatican despite the fact Forner! was not Catholic).
Like all visionaries who produce questionable and hideously expensive modern art, Forner! had issues with excessive behavior.

Forner! is extremely reclusive. He refused to be photographed and never allowed interviews. Indeed, his reputed low self-esteem and gender identification issues are evident in his many images of blonde women with large breasts which he labels “self portraits”.

His artistic style is described as “inconsistent”.
Due to a morbid fear of paparazzi and lawsuits and/or his unconfirmed death, Forner! no longer appears in public. His art is exclusively distributed by The “You Don’t Know Paint” gallery owner Minerva Shotz in London.

EARLIEST recorded scandal: During his first public gallery showing, Forener!’s lowbrow masterwork, ‘Michealangelo’s David Reinmagined in Elbow Macaroni’, was destroyed by a sewer flood in the basement gallery where it was being exhibited. The pasta absorbed the foul water and swelled to horrific proportions. The sad sight of a fouled and bloated David resulted in a severe mental breakdown. Forner! left Italy, never to return.

Other scandals:
Forner! vigorously denies ever having a llama fetish, but admits he once loaned The Artist formerly Known as Prince a camel in a drug induced haze.
If Forner! is found alive and somewhat mentally stable, the tax departments of various countries and lawyers representing his ex-wives would like to have a word with him.

Various very public breakdowns and brawls (including a rumored spoon fight with A-List celebrity Steve Martin in which Forner! lost his left eye).

FORNER! SPEAKS: “I hate people. I also loathe malls and aspartame. I despise Hollywood culture with a passion that frightens me, but I do like those little dogs that look like Lassie, only smaller. I forget what they call them.”

On his infamous creation “Michelangelo’s David Reimagine in Elbow Macaroni” : “I was drunk and bored, okay?”

2011-02-16T18:14:00.000-08:00

London Tonight with Jeff Leeson and the Joys of Streaking.

Some people think volunteering is boring. I heartily disagree.
Case in point. I volunteer for RogersTV Cable 13 in London, Ontario
One of the shows I help out with is London Tonight with Jeff Leeson
www.londontonight.ca
A late night talk show that is a total gas to work on. What more perfect place could there be the grasp the dynamics of TV talk show comedy writing?

During the first show taping of the second season, FM96's Tucker and Taz made a 'behind the scene's video of a rather startling moment. I am the blonde sitting dutifully at the VTR as the video starts, and not long after that, the drummer for the featured band, the Joys, got buck naked and flashed the audience during the warm up.

Volunteering can be its own reward some days!

2011-01-05T19:16:00.000-08:00

BOOK REVIEW - I SEE RUDE PEOPLE by Amy Alkon, Advice Goddess.

Some good advice about advice columnists… Or Why Amy Alkon is Now My GO TO Girl.
Over the course of my life I have devotedly read various “Agony Aunts” - Ann Landers and Dear Abby being the most recognizable. In decades past, if one wanted good sensible advice, one wrote a letter to Ann or Abby, and “Cheated on in Illinois” might or might not get a reply in the paper.

Then the niche advice market started to open up. Advice was everywhere. Advice columns for pet owners, for the religious, for work-related issues, etc. An upstart, Miss Manners, wrote a general guide to decent behavior and dutifully answered in a light, entertaining way. Her gentle readers troubling and lingering issues of etiquette were fairly mainstream, ie: ‘Is it acceptable to answer your cellphone whist simultaneously answering the call of nature’.

For steamier issues came the sweet old ladies, Dr. Ruth and Sue Johanssen, the hip, yet aged, aunties where where one went for honest sexual advice. And this was a good thing, as with each passing generation it became obvious that the problems of the public’s pubic area remained rather constant with minor variations. But there were folks out there with less mainstream issues.

However, the decent and mainstream syndicated ladies mentioned above simply do not tackle such subjects as: “What is the best way to explain to my significant other that, to be truly fulfilled, I want to be tied up naked, slathered with unpasteurized honey and eagerly licked clean by a hairy sailor in a bee suit?” For those sort of dilemmas there is Dan Savage of Savage Love , who is essentially Dear Abby for Kinky, Sexual Pervy types. However you will not find Dan Savage in your community newspaper anytime soon.

So as the columns of dependable Ann and Abby faded away, mainstream media (And I am looking RIGHT at YOU Sun Media!) tried to fill the gap these lovely, sensible women with less than stellar replacements. The advice offered was useless, dangerous or outright appalling! The writing style clunky, whiny and overbearing.

The pretenders to Ann and Abby’s thrones came and went in pathetic droves. (Yes, YOU Sun Media. Sit down and listen to this. It’s for your own good!) It was clear that the giving of Good Sensible Advice was a sacred duty, and not all are called. I wept for all the “Confused in Kalimazoo”s out there, people who simply needed a good shoulder to lean on in matters of the heart. I began to fear for society itself! Years passed. I fell into despair… until I happened upon an issue of SCENE magazine in London and read the column of ADVICE GODDESS, Amy Alkon.

And yea verily, the angels didst sing, and the people rejoiced and the clouds didst part and there was much heaving of relieved bosoms because Alkon’s advice is sensible yet delightfully snarky and hilarious.

She is a rare entity in the Advice World. She entertains as well as helps with good solid advice. Amy is also very, very good at explaining WHY people behave the way they do.

Amy's book, “I See Rude People” is a useful and fun read. As modern technology and rude societal behavior seep like bleach on to the delicate fabric of our sanity, we find ourselves behaving badly unless someone calls us on it. And God help you if it’s Amy. (Pro Tip – NEVER steal her car or her money, because… damn!)

Anecdotes include Amy confronting banking corporations who treat concerned customers like criminals, oblivious parents who blithely change funky poo-filled diapers in the middle of a crowded restaurant and the run of the mill cell phone abusers. Whether one is gently explaining to a guy on a cell phone that no one else in the café wants to hear about his genital wart issues, or boldly tracking down a car thief who snatched one’s beloved wheels, Amy teaches us that calling attention to someone’s lack of social respect is rather like confronting a school bully. Yes, it’s scary, but if enough people stand up to them, it gives strength to the rest of us. We get the society we tolerate. Sighing and eye rolling isn’t enough.

She also reminds us that a good deed has a positive ripple effect. Being nice and/or random acts of kindness are paid forward many times. If someone is nasty to you, don’t carry that negativity with you for the rest of the day. Dispel it with a decent act to some else. Otherwise, the rude retain their power over you. Which sucks, right?

In solving any problem, whether in matters of love, general etiquette or dealing with a crass stranger, clear communication is the key. It’s amazing how many of us require permission to say something simply and directly.

AKA “Excuse me Sir/Madam? You are behaving badly. Please desist immediately.”

Amy’s book, “I See Rude People.” is available at Chapters and Amazon.com.

Her columns and blogs are online at www.advicegoddess.com . You can learn more about her book there.

And SUN MEDIA, here’s some free advice for you. Run Amy Alkon’s syndicated column in all your papers coast to coast. Your current advice column is, frankly, drab and awful.

Just saying…

2010-10-22T10:24:00.000-07:00

Digital Hermitry.
Like celibacy for your technology.

Lately, I’m thinking about the technology of “Social Networking” and how we sometimes forget who is supposed to be in charge.

Cultivating an aura of mystery is extremely difficult in this day and age. I mean, how could Clint Eastwood's ‘Man with no Name’ possibly ride into town and get everyone’s attention if they simply googled him and realized, that he was merely Fred Smith: Hobbies - whopping bad guys with ax handles, cultivating manly stubble, being pale and mysterious.
Kinda loses the edge, yanno?

In short... Too much information is too much information.

So when Facebook recently got caught out again with a huge privacy breach, I was grateful that I never joined. Over the past few years I have been asked, and sometimes nagged to join FB, but have resisted. I already have a blog, a YouTube account, a cell phone, an email address and a snail mail address. If folks need to get a hold of me, they can. But no one needs to know my current state of mind every twenty minutes. If I’m bitchy my kid didn’t take out the garbage, then the only one who really needs to know that is the kid in question.

Yet, the peer pressure is enormous and the level of resentment that I am not ‘in the FB loop’ is palatable at times. And yet, daily internet drama goes on without my participation. I can glean the major points during infrequent get-togethers with friends/family. I confess that the Christmas card summing up of the past year is my preferred method of letting the world at large know what I’ve been up to (with appropriately edited pictures), which they can either read or toss into a bin as they see fit.

I have Internet friends I have never actually met, but about whom I know more daily personal details than I do of my own children. I do not think this is a healthy thing. I used to feel guilty if I didn’t update my blog weekly and I wondered why. Who or what is supposed to be in charge here? Common sense has gone right out the window for a new generation that knows no other way to live.

Despite new laws and huge fines, cops are pissed that people STILL insist on texting while driving. Seriously people, is it worth death/maiming just to text: “R U coming 2 the gig 2nite? Whoa! 18 wheeler... BRB.”

A CBC interview this morning blames such idiotic behavior on ‘rebelliousness’. I doubt that’s the entire story. We are trained these days to let technology dictate to us. A phone beeps and we are conditioned to pick it up that very second. Even with voice mail, caller ID and hands free options, it’s like people believe the planet will stop in its rotation (causing Stephan Hawking to totally flip out and reassess physics from square one) if we don’t pick up that call from “unknown caller’ right now.

Technology is made for Man, not Man for the Technology. I know some argue that they must be on call 24/7, but unless one is an essential service IE: head of state, police, EMS or fire dept., I cannot see the sense in it. We all need quiet time to let our minds and body rest. If you take your cell on vacation you are missing the point or R&R entirely. Technology-free vacations/retreats at B&B’s and monasteries are becoming increasingly popular and for good reason. Until you go cold turkey, you may not appreciate just how much stress and time suckage your laptop, TV and cell phone adds to your life.

Add to that the constant media barrage of information, usually a form of advertising. Channel surfing is NOT resting. Whether actually interesting or completely useless, it is mentally exhausting. We no sooner turn off the TV and put up at sign in the door that reads: ‘No flyer or junk mail’, then we find telemarketers bombing our cells with unwanted calls around dinner time, or flyers shoved under our wipers or pop-ups in the middle of the news article we wanted to read. Fark.com rightly points out that much or our news isn’t news at all. Journalism is a novelty these days.

For example… The Toronto Star did an actually investigation into the deplorable state of certain nursing homes. I was riveted. OMG! Real, actually content!?? WHAT A CONCEPT!! I felt renewed hope for the resurrection of print journalism as, Ironically, the Globe and Mail blathers on about all the new shiny colours they have in their much advertised redesign. I weep for our national newspaper if this is how they think they will woo readers. And they are not the only ones.

Another case in point: Just recently, London’s A Channel (CTV) actually had a 3-4 minute segment on the KFC Double Down vaguely disguised as a news story. I was justifiably pissed. There’s an municipal election next week and crazy shit happening all over town but they actually showed a live newscast on a fucking fast food sandwich. It’s hard enough getting real local news in London. Watching some “journalist” stuff his cake hole with a free fried chicken sandwich is not journalism, A-Channel! Wake the hell up, already! It’s insulting. It’s garbage like that that made me cut the cable and cancel paper subscriptions in the first place.

Summing up then…
Unplug yourselves, set you limits and take personal control of how you let mass media and communication dictate the limited time you have on this planet. Demand quality or deny them access.

The first step is realizing one has a choice. As social media and digital technology become increasingly intrusive and subversive, then the prospect of becoming a digital hermit becomes more appealing, and frankly, sensible.

So, of course, I immediately felt compelled to get online and blog about it.
.
.
.
Wait… am I doing this right?

2010-07-20T09:08:00.000-07:00

Science Fiction Convention - Polaris 24 in Toronto (July 16-18, 2010)

For the past 8 years, my youngest son and I make a yearly pilgrimage to the SF con, Polaris (aka Toronto trek) in Toronto. This year my son brought his lovely GF, a Kelley Armstrong fan. (Her very first con. I hope she wasn’t traumatised.)

Friday:
Attended the Mind’s Eye Preview, a 24 episode web series debuting in November 2010 created by Guelph’s Synn Studios (www.synnstudios.com) and Lynnvander (www.lynnvander.com). Mind’s Eye looks interesting, and the lads (many of whom seemed to be named Tom) were clearly a particularly dedicated and professional bunch. I attended all of their filmmaking panels and picked up a great deal of good, sensible advice. I was, however, rather disturbed by the combined effects of sleep deprivation and Red Bull on young males.
Anyway – check out www.mindseyeseries.com.

Yes, things got a bit of a strange with Nancy Leslie & Lesley-Dee Dylan’s X-Rated Rumpy Pumpy: Blackadder panel. I thought it would all be fairly naughty, as it was last year, with the obligatory turnips handed out as positive reinforcement to those with sharp wits and excellent dialogue recall.
This year it was a bit different, as costumes were provided, and as one of the few shameless females present, I ended up being photographed in various compromising positions with a prop udder. I milked the panel for all it was worth. /Rim shot
The gentlemen present were somewhat on the shy side, so it fell to me to break the ice. There’s something both disturbing and enchanting about mature men giggling like schoolgirls. Incriminating photos will eventually be posted.

Got into a huge laughing fit during a panel over the creation of the Church of Ernie, with Pastor Bert presiding and the image of Cookie Monster NOM-NOM-NOMing wafers. I suppose ya had to be there.

Saturday :
One of the actor guests of honour was the lovely Lindsay Wagner, of Bionic Woman fame. I am not much for meeting celebrities, even those I like. I don’t bother with autographs or photos, but I did attend her talk that afternoon. She is truly as beautiful as she was 30 years ago. She’s a great speaker, and regaled us with hilarious anecdotes about filming the series. I do recall the BW did not take itself too seriously and that was one of the reasons I loved it. Bionic Woman is coming out on DVD soon.

I had no clue who any of the other actor guests were. I kept running into some guy named Kai Owen from Torchwood. Haven’t watched Dr. Who since Tom Baker, or Star Trek since TNG, so I had no clue who these people were. I felt rather out of touch.

One of the best attended panels, booked into a small room, was Gender Roles and Feminism in SF. The room was packed. Both men and women seem frustrated with the 1 dimensional female characters depicted these days. The early Scully, the early Leia, Sarah Connor and Ripley resonate SO well with both genders. Is it simply that the male writers who dominate the industry do not know how to properly write women characters after a certain point? These days Carrie Fisher makes stupid money as a script doctor punching up female dialogue in optioned scripts, so that surely is part of it.

Zombie panels were more popular than Vampires. Streampunk jewelry and fashion is HUGE. Steampunk Hats were the dominant fashion in the dealer's room. I am noticing a lot fewer American dealers. Crossing the border is a nightmare, so I suppose they just stay on their side. A pity, really. American artists used to come up but now they just sell their original work online, so the content of art auctions have become a bit lacklustre. (BTW... Artist Heather Bruton did a fine job as auctineer.) But I long for the days when large originals works were on display and for sale. The auctions lasted for hours. Original art from bookcovers and from White Dwarf & Dragon Magazine created intense and dramatic bidding wars. I miss that. Few cartoons, except from Chad Wm. Porter and he sold every piece he brought.

Sunday:
Excessively hungover from Saturday night (I recalled going on a booze run for one of the Synn Studio guys, then chatting up Lar De Souza until 3 am) I shuffled about with other overhung conzombies seeking light breakfast food, prepacking the car, then waiting for my final panels.

Copywrong and Digital Media Rights turned out to be the best panel of the con for me. As technology makes it possible for us to generate and distribute our own content, it’s becoming disturbing how easily creativity can be destroyed when corporations use copyright law to control ideas and “vault” them rather than allow them to be legally shared and new derivative concepts to blossom. We all agreed that a USE IT or LOSE IT patent provision is going to be essential or we are culturally screwed.

All in all, a good con. No Sailor Bubbas (google it) this year, though. Am disappoint.

2010-07-09T09:44:00.000-07:00

Episodes of Bitter TV can be found here

http://www.youtube.com/user/EAnnBardawill

and here

http://www.funnyordie.com/eannbardawill

Episode one: World Report's journalistic integrity takes a huge hit during sweeps week.

2010-06-15T11:13:00.000-07:00

I will be appearing at The London Ontario Fringe FRINGEWORDS event.

June 21 (Monday) at Chaucers Pub.
7 to 10 pm.
Theme is London, Ontario

And yes... my contribution is very silly.

2010-05-18T09:49:00.000-07:00

It's UP!!
Helga Bitter's Zombie Blog.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yxCwnapwBLE

Helga has a typo in her Personal ad.
Snaps for the first to find it.
I told her - ALWAYS PROOFREAD!!!
But does she listen to me?
Oh nooooooooooooooooooooo.
Typical.

2010-04-14T11:30:00.000-07:00

I am almost done the post production on my short: Helga Bitter's Zombie Blog.
I must say it's been fun, even if Helga is somewhat of a diva*.

Right now I am trying to get the sync rights to use a currently popular song. Even thought this just a non-profit promo piece for me, I want it to be legit.

Next, I have to start a YouTube channel.

I was going to upload an animated short Rick and I made years ago for Will's grade ten assignment (yes... we are the sort of parents who occassionally do their kid's homework for them) but it appears to have be lost in a 'we upgraded to laptops and forgot to back up that some computer data' blonde moment.
Nuts!

* don't even get me started...

2010-03-10T11:31:00.000-08:00

So. I have finished one feature script and with a few more minor tweaks I can upload it to INKTIP. I'm 10 pages into to my next project and I have written a short ZOMBIE film. Because I am desperate, Helga is starring in it, hence the title: HELGA BITTER'S ZOMBIE BLOG. My budget is $100. It's only going to be a YouTube short to showcase my writing, but I am having a blast making props, figuring out the costumes and learning all about the DV camera that's been collecting dust in the closet for the past decade.

The last time I produced anything from scratch was when I made an animated short a few years ago. It was the most fun I'd had in years.

I am really having fun again. WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

When I finally set up my own production company, I will call it MacGarvalhalla Productions. And yes... those are my feet.

2009-12-26T12:18:00.000-08:00

I want to have Robert Adams internet babies.
He just totally rocks.

http://www.tvo.org/TVOsites/WebObjects/TvoMicrosite.woa?bigideas_robertadams

I found the delightful and eloquent Mr. Adams via TVO's Big Ideas, (www.tvo.org)
A great little show featuring taped ramblings of some of the best lecturers around.

If you like books, and you like intelligent, articulate thoughts on some of the best books out there, then Robert Adams is your 'go to' guy.

Follow the link to hear/see Mr Adams.
And be prepared to fall in love...

*****

For more info check out his book:
A Love of Reading

ABOUT ROBERT ADAMS
Every year, Robert Adams prepares a series of five reviews of contemporary novels, to be delivered alone on a theatre stage to sold-out audiences in Toronto and Montreal. In A Love of Reading Adams has now gathered 18 of his most brilliant reviews, from Jack Maggs by Peter Carey and The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver, to A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry and Barney’s Version by Mordecai Richler. In them he skillfully interweaves a nimble and entertaining discussion of plot, theme, and characterization with fascinating historical, biographical, and literary context. He is repeatedly drawn to the spectacle of less-than-perfect humans making their way in a hostile world, and as a result a review by Robert Adams is almost always a hugely satisfying mix of rich pathos and abundant humour.

Famously, Adams reads a book a day, from which he selects only those novels that are truly extraordinary, that have made him see some part of the world or some aspect of the human condition in a new light – because for Adams, the best books always take the reader on a journey, with a destination very distant from the point of departure. It should be not only a journey of discovery – an exploration of the author’s vision – but also of risk. By matching one’s own vision to that of the author, says Adams, the reader enters an exciting negotiation to produce a new vision of his own. This joint enterprise between reader and writer, the shared risk and the wonder of discovery, is the foundation of A Love of Reading.

• Quill & Quire, noting the jump in sales of any book reviewed by Adams, has called the phenomenon “The Adams Effect”

2009-12-12T10:56:00.000-08:00

A buddy of mine, Natalie, has written a great response to an irate letterwriter in the Las Vegas Sun, which is to be published this sunday in her local paper, and I have reprinted this with her permission.

Her reply struck a nerve with me since I do have friends and family members of many faiths and cultures. I have also recieved many chain emails from the "Keep Christ in Christmas" camp, which I generally do not past on, for the reasons Natalie has so elequently expressed below.

(link to the letter mentioned below:

http://www.lasvegassun.com/news/2009/dec/10/parent-should-not-bow-political-correctness/

I would like to reply to the letter published December 10, 2009 regarding elimination of Christmas activities in public institutions.

I am a rather devout Catholic; I would like nothing better than for everyone to believe as I do, but the simple fact is they do not. Some have no spiritual beliefs at all. I certainly believe in freedom of religion, but I also believe in freedom from religion.

My view of this type of thing is to put ourselves into the shoes of others. Suppose the Taliban got their wish and conquered this country? Would we like to be forced to wear burkas, among other dogma of the Muslim faith? My guess would be no. Ms. Goodin says this country was founded on Christian values. That may have been the original plan, but it became a country that conquered its native citizens, and forced them to either conform or live separately from the general population. How Christian is that? Not very.

I don't need to see schools, courtrooms, etc. decorated for Christian holidays. The malls and such do more than enough of that, anyway. I wear my crucifix and medals, which indicate my faith, but I respect the faith (or lack thereof) of other people.

I don't believe any taxpayer should have to pay for decorations, celebrations, etc. of something they do not even support. I firmly believe church and state simply must be separate, and the situation in Afghanistan is a shining example of why.

So yes, I say "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas" to strangers, because I think to assume they share my faith is arrogant and rude. There are quite a few Jewish folks as well. Anyone can see my religious jewelry, and often reply "Merry Christmas" to me. As much as some would like to think so, Christianity is not the center of everyone's universe; I wish that it were, but it isn't, so I accept that others have the freedom to believe as they see fit.

Nobody can take Christ out of your life but the individual him/herself. However, we have no right to force Him into the lives of others. Christ always practiced what He preached. Remember that He consorted with the poor, the filthy and the faithless, without judgment, without proselytizing. He reached others by example, and they made their choices accordingly. So "showing" that you're Christian isn't only wearing the symbols, and trying to push your beliefs on everyone else verbally, or with public displays. It's doing good things for others; it's behaving as Christ would, and I feel certain that He wouldn't mind our not doing Christmas pageants, putting garland on the capitol buildings, or nativity scenes in the park. He would rather see you, me, and everyone treating each other with respect and kindness.

THAT is the very best Christmas display.

Natalie Cantrell Larkowski

2009-12-03T09:14:00.000-08:00

Helga Bitter has asked me to proxy her blog.
Feel free to check her blog out via my profile.

As her ghostwriter, I suppose I have to do my bit.

http://helgabitter.blogspot.com/

**Sigh**

2009-12-03T08:57:00.000-08:00

Come early. Come often.

www.literaryreview.co.uk/badsexpassages

Yup.
Writing a good sex scene is hard.

Pun Intended.

2009-11-26T19:01:00.000-08:00

Oh Deer! That time of year again...

MEMO TO: S. Claus, Santa Enterprises CEO
CC: Santa Enterprises HR
From: Rudolf Reindeer (Logistics Div.)
Dec. 12, 4:45 pm

Further to the phone discussion we had last week regarding personal issues with some of the other reindeer, I must say things have not improved. In fact, the situation has deteriorated even further. Not only are the other reindeer laughing and calling me names, but lately I have been excluded from or uninformed about: company sporting events, social occasions and most disturbing- important company memos.

Look, I can take a bit of teasing as much as the next guy, but I am finding it increasingly difficult to work under these conditions. Donner and Blitzen are particularly offensive and have been spreading the rumour I have a serious drinking problem. As I (once again) explained to Mrs. Claus, the redness of my nose is merely a birth mark and I have the photos from my youth to prove it. I remind you the recent drug tests and my initial medical were passed with flying colours, so such gossip is not only unprofessional, it is also libellous.

I would really like to resolve this, as I enjoy working here and I’m sure a firm word from you would do the trick.

Yours,
Rudolf Reindeer

+++++

MEMO TO: S. Claus, Santa Enterprises CEO
CC: Santa Enterprises HR
From: Rudolf Reindeer (Logistics Div.)
Dec. 16, 9:16 am

Sir, I do realise you are particularly busy right now, but I regret to tell you that Cupid continues to be extremely confrontational , bordering on physically abusive. And just yesterday, Dasher incited the elves to flush my sleigh bells down the toilet, which completely bunged up the staff washroom for hours during takeoff practice. So you see, this nonsense isn’t just affecting me anymore. Frankly, it’s gotten right out of hand.

This sort of rude and insensitive behavior is unbecoming and sets a poor example to the younger reindeer. I hope you will have another talk with those concerned. I realise you have asked them to ‘knock it off’ already and I truly appreciate that, but perhaps your choice of words was, unintentionally, a bit poor. Vixen (twice!) tried to take your suggestion rather too literally.

As Mrs. Claus quite rightly pointed out at the staff meeting, such continued disrespect to me is also a sign of disrespect to you.

Please find enclosed my request for a new set of bells, and a medical insurance quote for a nose job. I hope you will approve them both quickly, as I am reaching rapidly the end of my patience with this situation.

Yours,
Rudolf Reindeer.

+++++

MEMO TO: S. Claus, Santa Enterprises CEO
CC: Santa Enterprises HR
From: Rudolf Reindeer (Logistics Div.)
Dec. 22, 12:16 pm

Santa,

I regret to inform you that I am now seeking legal counsel regarding what has become a very hostile work environment. I do appreciate and acknowledge Mrs. Claus’ many and sincere attempts to resolve this, but the harassment continues and I am putting myself on stress leave from now until after New Years Day.

Prancer’s drunken pranks at the Office Christmas party were simply intolerable. Worse, your lack of intervention and obvious enjoyment of my latest humiliation has caused me great emotional distress. While the clinic assures me the substance Prancer used is not radioactive, my now very shiny nose half-blinds anyone withinin a 20 km radius with the red glow. While I can fly wearing protective goggles, I have became a nervous wreck and simply cannot continue to do my job properly while enduring such verbal, physical and mental abuse by the other reindeer (and those old enough to know better - including yourself, sir! )

It saddens me greatly that I must resort to a lawsuit to get this awful treatment to stop.

I have enclosed various EAP insurance claims which I hope will be immediately approved by you ASAP, and cc’d copies to my both Lawyer and HR to avoid further delay.

Rudolf Reindeer

+++++

MEMO TO: PRANCER, Head Reindeer, Logistics
CC: S. Claus, Santa Enterprises CEO
CC: Santa Enterprises HR
From Rudolf Reindeer (Logistics Div.)
Dec. 23, 8:32 p.m.

Prancer,

RE: Your fauxpology.

So... the fog is rolling in over North America and suddenly you all love me and want me to be Santa’s shiny new guidance system? Forget it! If you think I’m falling for that load of BS, then you must think I’m some kind of idiot. What do you and your cronies have planned for me now? I shudder to imagine!

Do you really think I’m that gullible? Remember that stunt you pulled during the simulated landing sequence a week ago? I’m still having nightmares about squashing little Tommy! All that spurting blood nearly gave me cardiac arrest!

And NO! I won’t “just get over it”! I am not “guiding Santa’s Sleigh tonight”, but by now I am sure you’ve heard that I am shoving a massive lawsuit so far up your fat, hairy asses that Santa, yourself and ALL of the other reindeer won’t be able to fart for a century!

Go soak your heads!
Rudolf.

+++++

TEXT MESSAGE TO: Mrs. Claus, Santa Enterprises,CEO
From: Rudolf Reindeer (Logistics Div.)
Dec. 25, 12:16 pm

OMGWTF!! Truly devastated to hear Santa & team lost over North Atlantic in fog. You have my deepest and most sincere sympathies.

New head of sleigh team? Me? Absolutely!!11!1 I am so there for U! Get spare sleigh ready. I’ll totally guide you + new team & get presents to good girls/boys . This day = HISTORIC!

Can be there in 15 mins. Must ‘powder nose’ first. LOL!

Wait for me, my sweet darling girl!
It’s a “new reign dear”, indeed! You rock!
<3 X O X O X O X <3 11!!11
BFF!
Rudolf.

Sent from my Blackberry!

Originally posted at somethingfell.blogspot.com
By E. A. Bardawill

2009-11-17T14:43:00.000-08:00

www.leasticoulddo.com

I love these guys...

2009-11-16T05:28:00.000-08:00

Flash Fiction:

The only extraordinary event in Gerald’s life besides his birth, was his mysterious death.

His mother unexpectedly gave birth to him in a taxi. As the driver radioed for help, she cut the cord with a ragged key edge and abandoned her newborn on the seat.
Gerald left the orphanage at 14, performed unskilled labour for 44 years, and never married or fathered a child. He paid bills, played ponies and wondered occasionally about his mother.

Pulled dead and naked from Lake Erie, someone had written in brown mascara on his back: ‘Poena damni’.

Latin for ‘Pain of the damned’.

E. Ann Bardawill, 2009

2009-10-20T17:24:00.000-07:00

Who is Edith Prickley???
AH!! You HEATHENS!! My beloved leopard spotted minx/TV Station manager was played by Andrea Martin of SCTV fame:
See above for visual.
Edith, in short, was my hero.

BTW... Wear Animal Print day is the new and more fashionable 'Talk like a Pirate Day'
First Wednesday in November folks. You heard it here first!

2009-10-18T13:21:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, November 4th IS Wear Animal Print Day!!

2009-09-29T14:37:00.000-07:00

Some months ago I felt compelled to write a rare letter of dissatisfaction to the President of Hershey Chocolate:

Dear President of Hershey Canada

A few weeks ago, after a year of low-carb dieting with much success, I felt I needed a bit of a reward. You see, Canada Post had recently contacted me and revoked the dedicated postal code required for my buttocks. Having the choice of any treat for this momentous occasion, I decided on a 360 gram package of my favourite childhood candy; Goodies, which I intended to savour over the course of an evening, preferably with some tawdry movie involving Johnny Depp and an 18A rating.

Alas, it was not to be.

My first clue that this celebratory evening was going to go very badly was the large yellow burst on the front of the package which happily proclaimed ‘NOW GOODIER!’ (At that point the horrors that followed the introduction of the PR Disaster know as 'NEW COKE,' should have bubbled to the top of my brain and induced caution, but after 12 months of processed sugar deprivation, I heedlessly opened the package and began to blissfully consume what should have been a rare treat.)

My second indication that something had gone horribly, horribly wrong was the odd texture of afore said “Goodier” goodies. The interior black liquorice was too jelly-like, too gummy. Half the pleasure of proper Goodies is in the firm, tough liquorice texture. Puzzled, I kept eating, thinking that perhaps I had eaten a stray ‘mutant goodie’. To my deep dismay, I found they were all hideously afflicted so.

At this point of bitter disappointment, the lingering burning acidic aftertaste suddenly hit like a culinary Quentin Tarantino subplot rampaging within my mouth. Destruction, fiery wrecks of “Goodier Goodies” lay sizzling like gasoline-drenched corpses on my tongue. Shock and horror ensured, sans the spiffy background music. I performed what would have been unthinkable only a few moments before. I actually flung the bag of Goodies away in disgust.

I washed out my mouth in a feeble attempt to rid my poor abused taste buds of this grotesque sensation. I peered at the back of the bag, and find perhaps a hint... IMPORTED BY HERSHEY CANADA INC.

Imported? Imported? Oh yes... The Hershey plant in Smiths Falls, where I used to get my Goodies fix by the pound, is now closed. The production of those “Goodier” Goodies is now in the hands of what county exactly? Is lead and/or mercury now a GOODIER ingredient?

That you have ruined one of the few still accessible and sweet memories of my childhood is not enough! You proclaim this drek to be ‘Goodier’!! ‘GOODIER’!!!???” I beg to effing differ! ‘GOODIER’??According to whom? Extremely acidic burning aftertaste aside, I feel compelled to inform you that your new “Goodier” Goodies now taste like ass.

What ambitious, silver-tongued, insidious corporate demon spawned from the depths of Candy Hell dreamed up this bright idea? Did he and/or she blurt out during a five martini lunch of Hershey executives, “Hey, I KNOW! Let’s fark with the tried and true taste of Goodies. Nobody will mind!"

Please have the wanker responsible shot and /or fired immediately.

I also respectfully request you immediately cease making this “GOODIER” atrocity and go back your ORIGINAL Goodies recipe. A statement to the effect that Hershey's have made a regrettable error in judgment and it will never happen again, Scouts Honour, would also be appreciated, but really, I just want my damn candy back.

Yours etc.,

E. Ann Bardawill

Flush with righteous indignation, did I look up the snailmail address and send off a paper missive with a violently-licked stamp firmly affixed to the upper right corner of an envelope? Hell no! This is the digital age. I googled hershey dot com, and clicked on the ‘contact us’ link, found the name I sought and promptly emailed my rant to the CEO, C. Dax Coen directly.

I marvelled at the inappropriate design of the Hershey website.... and then noticed the company tagline which read:

‘Hershey Systems is a software company that provides innovative solutions to more than 200 higher education institutions around the world.’

Oh shit.
Wrong company.

I just as promptly dash off an apologetic email to same CEO, claiming sugar withdrawl for my hideously embarassing oversight, hit send, and then methodically bang my head against the desk repeatedly. I then stop. Take a deep breath and regoogle for the correct address.
Cut. Paste. Resend Rant. Rinse. Repeat.

The CEO of the UK based Software company replies the next day.... and I quote:

“Actually... That was the best email I have read in a while.
THANKS!!!
Dax”

C. Dax Coan
CEO/CTO
Hershey Systems, Inc.
http://www.hershey.com

I take heart that I may have greatly amused the entire board of directors as well as all employees of a British software company. Was a copy posted on the company news board, with a note tacked above reading:
‘Email from batshit crazy Canadian woman after succumbing to sweetie depravation”?
I both dread and secretly hope so.

On the other hand, the CEO of Hershey’s chocolate does not personally acknowledge my email. I receive a generically vague reply that does nothing to reassure me that my once favourite candy will be restored.

And so, another small piece of my childhood dies. But perhaps I will start mailing letters with stamps again.

2009-09-02T13:44:00.000-07:00

Ja's Bar - Smack and Mirror's

J.A.’s bar is absurdly quiet these days. Jamie’s at the bar signing a copy of Hotel at the Corner of Bitter and Sweet for me and we make up 50% of the customers. Dana sits in a back corner, desperately looking in her purse for a digital camera cord, muttering rude words in Chinese. The other guy is James Frey. He’s curled up in the foetal position, several weeks beard growth on his face. I think he’s mouthing: ‘give pieces a chance’.

The Pit hasn’t been used in weeks. The last jello-wresting fracas was J.K. Rowling vs. Stephanie Meyer, but everyone’s eyes, including mine, were glued to Obama’s massive package.

Desperate, J.A. hauled out the mud-coated jello, steamed it clean and turned it into a hot tub/tiki bar. Alas.... No one’s interested.

It’s not just the economic downturn. There’s something else going on and it makes me wonder.

Out in the street, the faint scent of noses worn down by grindstones is in the air. Everyone’s wants an angle so bad they’d sacrifice a virgin to Pythagoras a) he were alive and b) any were available.

What’s selling, what’s not, who’s selling and how is the question. For example - Vampires are their own genre these days, not that there is anything wrong with that, but to me the real-life vampires are CEO’s who require bailouts & suck the life from the rest of us. Now life imitates art and all that. Too close for comfort for my taste.

Escapism is not a new thing for paying customers who shell out deep to keep their illusions. They want fantasy – hard and fast with plenty of sequels. It’s getting tougher for serious writers these days. Even JA is turning to the e-press to gain better royalties, but I don’t see no Kindles near that hot tub. I buy a hard copy I can keep it for a few decades or pass it to a friend. I wants my paperbacks, thank you very much, but I’m choosier these days. A series is too much of a commitment. Too many changes all happening at once. It's not just getting published, it's HOW to get published.

I sip a lukewarm Pap Smear with a wrinkled cherry as I contemplate the writer’s life. I recall a fiction-writing meeting I attended just the other night. A new guy came by with buddies. I asked him what he was working on. He waxed enthusiastic about his screenplay which was about a guy and his two buddies who sell a screenplay to his favourite actress and become rich.

I nodded pleasantly as I threw up a little bit in the back of my mouth.

Not because it was an obvious exercise in self-absorbed fantasy fulfillment that would never go anywhere, but because it probably will sell if he has a decent amount of writing talent, finishes it and knows someone in the business. The sure sell. Even if it's trash.

Everyone wants a new sparkly spin on an old idea. They want to be popular without selling out. Kinda like doing a lap dance with your clothes on. They want it both ways, and in this slow economy, with all the new ways to download free entertainment, who can blame them?

That’s an illusion no one wants to shatter.

2009-07-09T19:24:00.000-07:00

Off to Toronto for POLARIS aka TORONTO TREK, (An SF convention) where there will be cartoonists, and vodka coolers...and all manner of panels - perhaps even... dare I say it... Erotic origami!!!

WOOT!!

Nothing sez wild time like folding a bunch of penii!
.
.
.
Er... what IS the plural of penis?

2009-06-25T09:08:00.000-07:00

Book Review: The Candy Darlings by Christine Walde

Ever since Hershey Canada broke my nostalgic wee heart with their blatent buggering of my beloved Goodies, I've been off candy. Nothing is sacred anymore. Corporations should not mess with tried and true candy recipes of one's (rapidly fading in the rearview) youth.

Repackaging Good & Plenties as Goodies is like attempting to sell an unsuspecting customer a neurotic, yappy poodle in place of a well-trained border collie. True - they are both dogs, but it just ain't what the customer wants and the customer is always right.

But I digress.

The thing I loved most about Candy Darlings were the stories within the story. Megan Chalmers, troubled, mysterious and candy-addicted, relays to her new friend truth-dipped, candy-coated fairytales which underscore Megan's hidden origins as the girl battle three shiney and popular bullies at school.

This is a YA novel with a bittersweet adult edge. Walde pulls no punches as the girls meet Edie, an elderly lady with her own troubled past, who loves candy as much as they do and who spins her own fairy tale.

One line above all jumped out at me.

"Whoever says they haven't met a terrorist doesn't know the heart of a teenage girl."

I love the YA books that can transend their YA status to leap lightly into the adult realm. Christine pulls this off well. I recommend Candy Darlings highly. Just don't read on an empty stomach.

8 out of 10 Bardmarks.
Sweet!

2009-06-19T13:54:00.000-07:00

'The problem with reality is there is no background music'.

One of my guilty pleasures is a desire to collect really trashy pulp novel covers. Some women like collecting those delicate china figurines. Others like tasteful crystal or antique jewelery.

Nope. Not me.

I want a poster size versions of Dime a Dance Queen and Divorce Bait on my walls.

I don't know Art, but I effing know what what'll make the neighbours talk about me behind my back!

2009-06-17T06:43:00.000-07:00

What I really want to do is direct.

If I could option movies I would SO do this. The perfect date film. Chick flick with zombies. Every demographic would totally get into such a flick. Am 1/3 through it and just SO loving this.

I do recommend it. It's one of the few books I can think my kids might actually read on my recommendation.

It's also a contagious idea. I now am dying (no pun intended) to try my hand at Anne of Green Gables VS the Undead..

2009-06-16T11:05:00.000-07:00

Rambling and the Write Stuff.

It's been a pretty hectic few years since I first moved to London. A lot of new beginnings and a few endings too.

For example, the London Writers' Society has a new executive. I spend the last year as treasurer and learned a few things. I am hosting the Monthly LWS Pub Night this year. Beer! Not just for breakfast anymore. **evil grin**

The first pub night was pretty cool. Laid back talk with other writers, and the partaking of some very nice Austrian cheese. (Hey Bob? How do they milk Austrians?) Not as wild as JA's pub, but heh! that's alright too.

As I mentioned in my last blog post, I have a bit more time to actually read these days. Picked up No Time to Say Goodbye by Linwood Barclay. Another excellent book that I walked away with from Bloody Words IX in Ottawa.

Bloody Words was a treat, by the way. The highlight was the WOULD I LIE TO YOU workshop - wherein I learned never to hot air balloon behind Mary Jane Mafini's house, and NEVER trust Rick Mofina to multitask with infants and coldcuts at the same time. (Will have to tell Sandra that story!)

Reconnected with Melanie Fogel, editor of Storyteller magazine and attended an excellent workshop of hers. Storyteller publisher Terry Tyo accepted a short story of mine WAY back in 1994 called The Ice King, despite having submitted the hard copy in a vile font, sans double spacing, and numerous other faux pas.

It was my first serious writing credit.

Melanie helped me remember why I started writing in the first place. The constant love affair with words, the crafting of a plot, the sheer joy of entertaining others with the children of one's imagination - not for money, fame, or any banal return - except for the satifaction of creating a mood, a place and time and most importantly - characters that would not otherwise exist.

To watch words take on a life of their own. To reveal things about yourself you might not otherwise realise. Sometimes I think the only real sin in the world is to not use the gifts God has given you.

You can replace almost anything, except time. It's going to be an interesting year.
Watch me.

2009-06-15T16:54:00.000-07:00

Back between the sheets...

Time for me to get blogging again. I've been letting things slide.
I actually have some time to read.

Currently reading Candy Darlings by Christine Walde.

Just finished:
The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman
As always, Neil totally delivers!
10 out of 10 Bardmarks

Midnight Cab by James W. Nichol
Abandoned infant grows up and tries to find out the fate of his mother.
Winner of the Arthur Ellis Award for first novel.
9 out of 10 Bardmarks
and

Six Seconds by Rick Mofina - a great little thriller I could not put down until finished.
Bonus points for being set in both the US and Canada!!
8 out of 10 Bardmarks

2009-03-21T16:59:00.000-07:00

Saw Great Big Sea on Thursday night, along with Spirit of the West.

Marvelous concert. Would go again to see both bands in a heartbeat.

Must admit to now having a unhealthy fascination for tin whistles.

.
.
.
.
Long story. Never mind.
Just assume it's a very naughty reference to something vaguely sordid and let's just leave it at that.

2009-01-18T12:23:00.000-08:00

It getting to be that time again...

I have a bit of a passion for really horrible prose as Corey (Shelf Monkey) and Jeff (Lilley Press) will avow.

http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/
The best little bad writing contest on the web is the focus of the London Writer’s Society’s March meeting as we attempt to write the worst opening sentence to the world’s worst non-existent novel!

Why deliberately attempt to write wildly wretched prose? Well, because sometimes knowing how NOT to write is as instructive as knowing how to write. Give it a go and then enter Scott Rice’s world famous Bulwer-Lytton Bad Writing contest. 2009 entry deadline is April 15th, 2009.

Here an example of what to expect:

Overall Runner-Up winner 2008
"Hmm . . ." thought Abigail as she gazed languidly from the veranda past the bright white patio to the cerulean sea beyond, where dolphins played and seagulls sang, where splashing surf sounded like the tintinnabulation of a thousand tiny bells, where great gray whales bellowed and the sunlight sparkled off the myriad of sequins on the flyfish's bow ties, "time to get my meds checked."

Andrew Bowers

Winner: Detective
Mike Hummer had been a private detective so long he could remember Preparation A, his hair reminded everyone of a rat who'd bitten into an electrical cord, but he could still run faster than greased owl snot when he was on a bad guy's trail, and they said his friskings were a lot like getting a vasectomy at Sears.

Robert B. Robeson
Lincoln, Nebraska

Want to read more? Check out the best of the worst!
http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/lyttony.htm

Links to other excruciatingly bad writing:
Worst sex scenes ever published... in real books!
http://books.guardian.co.uk/print/0,,331379643-99819,00.html

The Eye of Argon, By Jim Theis
http://www.dcs.gla.ac.uk/SF-Archives/Misc/Eye_Of_The_Argon
This is really really bad. I mean, the worst...
Can cause hernias!
You have been warned!

(From the Bulwer Lytton website)
The rules to the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest are childishly simple:
Each entry must consist of a single sentence but you may submit as many entries as you wish. (One fellow once submitted over 3,000 entries.)

Sentences may be of any length BUT WE STRONGLY RECOMMEND THAT ENTRIES NOT GO BEYOND 50 OR 60 WORDS, and entries must be "original" (as it were) and previously unpublished.

Surface mail entries should be submitted on index cards, the sentence on one side and the entrant's name, address, and phone number on the other.
E-mail entries should be in the body of the message, NOT IN AN ATTACHMENT (and it would be really swell if you submitted your entries in Arial 12 font). One e-mail may contain multiple entries.

Entries will be judged by categories, from "general" to detective, western, science fiction, romance, and so on. There will be overall winners as well as category winners.

The official deadline is April 15 (a date that Americans associate with painful submissions and making up bad stories). The actual deadline may be as late as May 30 (the 2009 results will be released by mid-June).

The contest accepts submissions every day of the livelong year.
Wild Card Rule: Resist the temptation to work with puns like "It was a stark and dormy night."

Finally, in keeping with the gravitas, high seriousness, and general bignitude of the contest, the grand prize winner will receive . . . a pittance.

Send your entries to:
Bulwer-Lytton Fiction ContestDepartment of English
San Jose State University
San Jose, CA
95192-0090,

or go the website
www.bulwer-lytton.com
to submit your entry electronically!

Good luck!

2008-12-13T17:44:00.000-08:00

Jolly Old Elf Inc.
North Pole
HOH OHO

Dear Young Woman,

RE: LETTER: Santa Baby, hurry down my chimney tonight.

Have been forwarded your Christmas list and I must take exception to the demands you are placing upon Mr. Claus this year.

First and foremost, please do not address my fine and generous husband as “Santa Baby.” It is undignified and, frankly, far too familiar. You will refer to him in future as ‘St. Nicholas’ or ‘Mr. Claus’.

Please note I find it truly laughable that you also claim to be a good girl, citing ‘all the fellas that you haven’t kissed’, however I must assure you, Miss, you are most definitely on the naughty list and no mistake about that!

Your first demands, for it is too unsavoury to label them Christmas wishes, are
A sable and a light blue convertible

First of all, PETA is already breathing down our necks regarding the entire reindeer issue, so tossing out fur coats to the grasping hands of unsavoury little tarts such as yourself isn’t going to help our case. So you can just forget that.

Further, A convertible? HA! Cute. Let’s just see if the Big Three make it to New Year’s, shall we? Read a newspaper you ignorant twat!

Right... Let’s just have another wee read of your most impertinent letter.

You then whine:
I wanna yacht and really that's not a lot
I've been an angel all year

Angel? You? HA! A fallen one maybe!

But, honestly! A yacht?
Sure, honey, we just have LOADS of yachts at the North Pole. Especially since the entire melting ice caps/climate change thing really started riding our Northern asses. Look sweetheart, I’ll give freaking David Suzuki an aircraft carrier before you see so much as a rowboat out of this workshop, so you can just kiss my hairy little elf.

What's next?
Ah yes.
The deed to a platinum mine.

I think you have plenty of platinum on your ego-swollen head and it obviously came out of a bottle, you hussy. So just forget that!

Next is... a duplex, and checks - Sign your 'X' on the line
Nice try, you little tramp, but I handle all the financials in this household. The only checks I’ll issue you are reality checks - ALL OVER YOUR FREAKING FACE!!

Then you brazenly suggest to my husband, Come and trim my Christmas tree.
That I can help with. I’ll be right over with a chain saw.

Last on your list is a ring and you don't mean a phone.

Look Slutzilla, you are horrifically delusional if you think for one blessed minute he’s going to dump his loyal wife and business partner of 4 centuries for a sordid bit of fluff like you. See, darling, not only do we know if you’ve been naughty or nice, we also know who exactly you’ve been naughty and far too nice with.

So here is my Christmas present to you. The last guy who put a little something in your stocking? Well, he's infected with both Herpes and Genital warts, so you might want to get your perky little butt to a clinic and make your Christmas wish some antibiotics!

Yours, etc.

Mrs. S. Claus
Vice-President of Operations
Jolly Old Elf Inc.

PS:
Any further attempts to contact my husband with be redirected to our legal firm and the only thing involving you and getting laid will be harassment charges.

2008-11-23T11:53:00.000-08:00

Dear President of Hershey Canada

A few weeks ago, after a year of low-carb dieting with much success, I felt I needed a bit of a reward. You see, the Canada Post had recently contacted me and revoked the dedicated postal code required for my buttocks. Having the choice of any treat for this momentous occasion, I decided on a 360 gram package of my favourite childhood candy, Goodies, which I intended to savour over the course of an evening, preferably with some tawdry movie involving Johnny Depp and an 18A rating.

Alas, it was not to be.

My first clue that this celebratory evening was going to go very badly was the large yellow burst on the front of the package which happily proclaimed ‘NOW GOODIER!’ (At that point the horrors that followed the introduction of the PR Disaster know as 'NEW COKE,' should have bubbled to the top of my brain and induced caution, but after 12 months of processed sugar deprivation, I heedlessly opened the package and began to blissfully consume what should have been a rare treat.)

My second indication that something had gone horribly, horrible wrong was the odd texture of afore said “Goodier” goodies. The interior black liquorice was too jelly-like, too gummy. Half the pleasure of proper Goodies is in the firm, tough liquorice texture. Puzzled, I kept eating, thinking that perhaps I had eaten a stray ‘mutant goodie’. To my deep dismay, I found they were all hidiously afflicted so.

At this point of bitter disappointment, the lingering burning acidic aftertaste suddenly hit like a culinary Quentin Tarintino subplot rampaging within my mouth. Destruction, fiery wrecks of “Goodier Goodies” lay sizzling like gasoline-drenched corpses within my mouth. Shock and horror ensured, sans the spiffy background music. I performed what would have been unthinkable only a few moments before. I actually flung the bag of Goodies away in disgust.

I washed out my mouth in a feeble attempt to rid my poor abused tastebuds of this grotesque sensation. I peered at the back of the bag, and find perhaps a hint... IMPORTED BY HERSHEY CANADA INC.

Imported? Imported? Oh yes... The Hershey plant in Smiths Falls, where I used to get my Goodies fix by the pound, is now closed. The production of those “Goodier” Goodies is now in the hands of what county exactly? Is lead and/or mercury now a GOODIER ingredient?

That you have ruined one of the few still accessible and sweet memories of my childhood is not enough! You proclaim this drek to be ‘Goodier’!! ‘GOODIER’!!!???” I beg to effing differ! ‘GOODIER’??According to whom? Extremely acidic burning aftertaste aside, I feel compelled to inform you that your new “Goodier” Goodies now taste like ass.

What ambitious, silver-tongued, incidious corporate demon spawned from the depths of Candy Hell dreamed up this bright idea? Did he and/or she blurt out during a five martini lunch of Hershey executives, “Hey, I KNOW! Let’s fark with the tried and true taste of Goodies. Nobody will mind!"

Please have the wanker responsible shot and /or fired immediately.

I also respectfully request you immediately cease making this “GOODIER” atrocity and go back your ORIGINAL Goodies recipe. A statement to the effect that Hershey's have made a regratable error in judgement and it will never happen again, Scouts Honour, would also be appreciated, but really, I just want my damn candy back.

Yours etc.,

E. Ann Bardawill

2008-11-05T19:06:00.000-08:00

November 5th

Wear Animal Prints to Work Day

Just to be silly, and in honour of my fashion mentor Edith Prickly (of SCTV fame)

I declared today to be "Wear Animal Prints to Work" day.

My workmates actually went for it.

I love the people I work with. They just rock.

2008-10-08T18:16:00.000-07:00

1926-2008

My father was truly the best person I have ever known.

Every one else in life will be measured by the standards he set.

I miss you, dad.

Love you.

2008-07-19T17:20:00.000-07:00

Misc. Bits and pieces....

First and foremost - SOFTLITE!!! Likeomgneutrinogrrl-howru???
Send me an email though my profile, would you please!
The best things about the upcoming X-Files movie is touching base with all the old gang.

That being said, I really have to check this blog more often.

Secondly, I will be appearing at
FRINGEWORDS,
Aug 6, 7 p.m. at RUMRUNNERS at the London Fringe Festival
This is my THIRD year.
I'm not sure but this may make me an institution.

Cue the agonising over what to wear and more importantly... what to present.
http://www.londonfringe.ca/

Thirdly -
If you are into Superhero comics, or biting and brutal satire in general, I humble BEG you to check out this site:
WWW.HOVERBOY.COM

Comic artist Ty Templeton and Rick Green from HistoryBites are in the midst of filimng a mockumentary on Hoverboy. (Think Spinal Tap meets Superman). Whilst at Polaris 21 (a SF con in Toronto, me and some of my buddies were drafted to be rabid HOVERBOY fans for what is going to be, I firmly believe, one of the funniest damn mockmentaries to hit the TV screen.

I don't know if any of the footage with me in it will end up anywhere but on the cutting room floor, but the experience was the highlight of the convention for me.

The HOVERBOY comic is coming out next month. Ty's work is sumptuous as always. I remember Stig's Inferno. Great stuff. Check it out!

My gut instinct is that Hoverboy is gonna be big. Huge.
Seriously culturally massive.
You heard it here first folks!

2008-05-20T19:09:00.000-07:00

I am getting up my nerve...

Working on my query.
Polishing my novel.
Fleshing out the thin spots.
Refining.
Spelling checking.
Writing awful poems...

It's time to boot my novel out the door and see if it'll fly.

2008-05-08T17:43:00.000-07:00

The Mother of all PR mistakes....

So, a hardworking single mom of four kids was fired from her job at Tim Horton’s this week for giving a free Timbit to a fussy baby in a kind-hearted effort to help out a fellow mom.... the week before mother’s day.

In MY town, of London, Ontario, no less!!

This story hits the local news this morning... then went National...then International.
It even made www.fark.com

Sandra Ruttan has already blogged about this, but here's my 16 cents on the matter...

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20080508.WBmarkets20080508104244/WBStory/WBmarkets

http://canadianpress.google.com/article/ALeqM5j7t7SbMu8MR3TPa_AruwuyTi7YRw

When I heard about this, I was mightily annoyed. Inspired by Wendy Aaron’s letter (http://wendi-aarons.blogspot.com) to Proctor and Gamble, I put out and fired off this letter the Tim Horton’s HQ: (Before Nicole was offered her job back)

Tim Hortons Corporate Head Office
874 Sinclair Road
Oakville, Ontario
L6K 2Y1
customerservice@timhortons.com

RE: DOUGH!!
Baseline/Wharncliff location in London & cracking down on /mercilessly firing employees who dare to be nice to babies.

Dear poor bastard in charge of cleaning up the PR disaster of the
decade,

I’ll just skip past the whole “what the HELL was Manager Nicole
Mitchell thinking??!!” and forgo the sarcastic ‘WAY TO GO GUYS!’ portion of
this letter. I’m sure you have already had your fill of that.

This note is simply to inform you that I shall not be patronizing Tim
Hortons for the rest of my natural life, and dollars to donuts, I
strongly doubt I will be the only one.

To dismiss an employee of three years for the trench level PR
initiative of offering a Timbit to an infant of a regular customer is
an example of complete asshattery. It really boggles the mind. Nicole
Lilliman should have been given a warning, even docked the princely sum
of 16 cents at the very most.

But firing a long time employee & mom of four for a Timbit? No warning?
No “don’t let it happen again?”

Wow. Oh, to be a fly on the wall at your next shareholders meeting. It
ought to be epic.

Yours,
E. Ann Bardawill

Since this story broke, Lilliman has had other jobs offers, which I hope she will take.
She deserves so much better than that.
Please note, it was not the owner of r the store who turfed her, but the store manager.

The 3 managers who made her sign a document stating she was a 'thief' are, I dearly hope, going to be Boston Cremed, feathered and run out of town on a rail.

And that smell?
...is Tim Horton spinning in his grave.

2008-05-05T17:39:00.000-07:00

Everyone...
The blog for the London Writers Society.

http://londonwriterssociety.blogspot.com/

HUZZAH!

2008-05-02T15:47:00.000-07:00

And sometimes, advertising sucks....

http://wendi-aarons.blogspot.com/2007/03/as-seen-on-mcsweeneysnet.html

Seriously, I hate these damn ads.
Wendi expresses my sentiments far better than I could.

2008-05-02T15:44:00.000-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V5BxymuiAxQ

Because, sometime we need to reminds ourselves...
the world is awesome.

This is a really good ad.

2008-04-02T18:22:00.000-07:00

I have to make a confession.
I was totally suckered into Virgles (Virgin/Google) Mars Colonization April Fool's joke for a couple of minutes.

I, sincerely and happily believed for a nano second that Richard Branson was going to make a venture to Mars.

**POUT**

Richard, I hope Spider Robinson hunts you down and kicks you right in the nads.

2008-03-29T04:27:00.000-07:00

Telemarketers .... and how to have fun with them.

So last night a get a call. A Toronto-area phone prefix, so I pick up.
On the other end is a man with a VERY VERY VERY heavy East Indian accent.

"Hello, may I please speak to Mrs.... Barduhwill."

Great.

"Speaking."

"Mrs Barduhwill, my name is Michael...."

Of COURSE it is.
Michael.
Right.
Gotcha.

"Did you know that Telus is offering FREE CELLPHONES, Mrs Barduhwill?"

Now, before i go any further, please note that I am ALWAYS polite to telemarketers. I have done a lot of cold calling in my time and still do, so I never get nasty. It's a tough job.
That being said, I am SO not buying this man's name is 'Michael' and I don't want a free cell phone. I hate the damn things, technologicall shackles that they are. Even if I didn't hate them, I sold electronics for a living, so I KNOW the actual physical cell phones are dirt cheap. Built in ob celle essense and all that.
It's the phone plans that will REALLY cost you.

Anyway.... back to "Michael"

"I'm sorry, I don't like cell phones, Michael. I don't want one. But thanks anyway."

There is a pause and 'Michael' sounds personally affronted and rather hurt.

"How can you not like cellphones? This is the modern world, Mrs. Barduhwill! Everybody needs a cell phone."

"I don't need one. Seriously, dude. I just don't like them."

Micheal, now clearly desperate, tries man-logic. "But what if you have an emergency? Then you will need a cell phone."

I can sense his thoughts. I have her there. How can Mrs Barduhwill wiggle her way out of THAT argument!?

Poor bastard. He thinks he can bamboozle me with common sense? Ha! I'll show him. Logic has no place in telemarketing.
I am WOMAN!
Hear me counterargue using complete and utter bottle-blonde induced bullshit!

"I don't have emergencies. Michael."

Another long, long, long pause... this one fairly DRIPPING with complete disbelief.
Obviously, he didn't see that angle coming! He abandons the trusty telemarketers tip book, (which I am sure Telus has provided him - chock full of useful counter arguments) and just wings it now.

"NOT have emergencies? How can you not have emergencies, Mrs Barduhwill!? Everyone has emergencies!"

Clearly this man is young and has little experience debating with older woman.
Logic? Pffft!
Telus is so screwed.

"Well, so far so good," I trill cheerfully. By now the whole exchange is so absurd "Micheal" and I are both giggling like little kids.

Ah well, 24 seconds have now passed. It's time to let Michael go now. I try to let him down easy.

"Thank you for the offer, Michael, but really, I'm not interested. You have a great night."

'Michael' is still in the midst of a giggle fit and only just manages to said good bye.

After hanging up my landline, and wiping tears of mirth from my eyes, I wonder what poor 'Michael's' real name is.

I bet I would have liked it.

2008-03-01T12:55:00.000-08:00

Now available.

$5.00 + S&H

To order contact: seilerjeff at hotmail.com

2008-02-11T18:32:00.001-08:00

GO ME!!!

I was going to wait, but since Dave Sim (Creator/writer & artist of Cerebus and glamoupuss) has been talking about this at various comic boards, I guess I ought to say something.

Jeff Seiler's March 2008 issue of Cerebus Readers in Crisis #3 will feature an 8 page comic story by E. Ann Bardawill (wait... that's me!) called Crisis (On Infinite London Ontarios).

I also contributed a fake ad from Bovine's Haute Cowture and
.
.
.
My portrait is on the front. Dave did a really nice rendering of me and I actually was able to use my rusty graphic arts skills in assembling the digital art for the cover.
PLEASE NOTE: No, my nose isn't really that perky, but I'm not complaining and yes, I squeed like a 15 year old fangirl when I got it in the mail.

The cover art will be posted here after the issues debutes at SPACE on March 1, 2008.
I will also post Jeff Seiler's contact info for any and all who might be interested enough to shell out 5 bones so they can read my first serious foray into comics, which is - admittedly - mostly Cerebus-centric commentary, bad puns and boobie jokes.

So, it might actually be a collector's item one day.*
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
*BAHAHAAHHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!!!
Right!

ETA: http://www.backporchcomics.com/premier_comics_p2.htm

SPACE's comics premier page. Clickie... Scroll down....down...down...
The chick with the perky nose?
C'est moi!

2008-01-31T18:16:00.000-08:00

Every Valentine's Day, Ryan Sohmer invites one of his readers to go on a date with one or the cast of his webcomic Least I Could Do.

www.leasticoulddo.com

This year I entered.

Who do I want a date with?

Why... tiny Darth Vader, of course...

So I like guys who breath heavily.
So sue me.

2008-01-15T16:01:00.000-08:00

Why Paul Tolme is my hero.

http://www.newsweek.com/id/94543/output/print

Funniest damn thing I've read in ages.

What do you do when you find out your article on Black-footed ferrets has been tarted up and draped with a loincloth by plagiarist/Romance novelist Cassie Edwards??

Well...
You write this.

2008-01-12T18:42:00.000-08:00

They're baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack...

http://bunionblog.blogspot.com/

2008-01-12T18:36:00.001-08:00

My goodness.

Things have be getting uncomfortably warm over at Smart Bitches who love Trashy Novels.

Romance novelist, Cassie Edwards, appears to have plagiarised rather a lot.
Anyway, here's the recap for those new to this scandal:

http://dearauthor.com/wordpress/2008/01/11/cassie-edwards-plagiarism-recap/

I googles Cassie's website to see what she had to say for herself, and found out she has a novel coming out in 2009 called....wait for it...

Stolen Thunder.

You just CANNOT make this shit up.

2007-12-29T13:19:00.000-08:00

I hate shopping.

During the annual Boxing Week consumer madness I stay away from anything remotely resembling a mall and hunker down with my Pride and Prejudice DVD to blessedly lose myself in that state of mind known as Mr. Darcy (portrayed so wonderfully by Colin Firth).

Alas, not this year. I have a New Years soirée to attend. The last proper girlie gown I bought was for my nuptials, nearly two decades ago. Even I must admit it’s time to buy something new. I trot out dutifully to purchase a Glamourpussy-type frock for the aforementioned Black Tie One On event.

First order of business is to find a Tasteful Boutique that caters to my epic proportions.

And this is the main reason I hate shopping.

It is my first thought that the fashion industry powers that be simply do not make clothes my size, but in fact they do. A quick glance around reveals I am definitely not alone. The sheer multitude of Queen Latifaesque babes milling around me means a complete sell out of decent dress sizes leaving in only sizes 6 through 12 to languish on the rack.

I am left no choice but to go to a specialty boutique.

Bovines Haute Cowture for the Excruciatingly Rubanesque.

(A division of SouthWestern Tent and Awning)

Normally, I would be thrilled to be in the lower size range - but Bovines’ accommodating fashions lack a certain elegance. I try on a few gowns only to discover that there is nothing is as uncomfortable as the combination of spandex and sequins. The deep pebbly pattern left on my squashy bosom is reminiscent of an alligator purse. In the end I choose a soft, shimmery gray outfit that does not leave such unfavourable impressions. It`s bit bland but a few accessories will help. I find a dishy shawl with sparklies and varying shades of silver and black that will help tie in the not yet bought shoes for the dress.

Oh right. Shoes. Great....

Did I mention I loathe shopping?

Once again, the ladies shoe department are only left with sizes that would, on a good day, fit the Keebler elves.

It seems that I seek the impossible. A tasteful, silver coloured, open-toed pump with a low heel. Most silver pumps are enhanced a tacky chrome finish guaranteed to blind anyone in a five mile radius. They also come armed with insanely sharp high heels. Weapon of destruction capable of stabbing a charging male Rhino to death. This must be the ultimate function of such heels, since the simple act of actually walking in them cannot be physically possible. I wonder how the ladies who wear these are initially launched into the air and what aforesaid Rhino can possibly have done to warrant being assasinated in such a revolting manner.

Meanwhile, I beg the waifish shoe-girl to find anything in my size from any era. Preferably in a matt finish and with a low heel (under 5 inches). As I wait, I wonder if I might strap a couple of largish sterling silver gravy boats to my feet, but no... that would be pushing the boundaries of good taste.

Finally, a dusty box - the interior tissue paper crumbling with age -is dug out of the backroom. My dainty size 11w tootsies are duly shod by the astonished and affronted clerk (who is, incidentally, a size zero and whose mother likely bound her feet at birth). At the cash register, I get an extra 25% off if I solemnly pinkie swear not to tell anyone I purchased them at their shop.

Hurrah! The worst is over. Shoes and Frock are found - FINAL SALE stamped decidedly on the receipts. .

A silver sequined evening bag only just large enough for a cell phone, a lip gloss and my keys is purchased. The Superform 36-Hour Heavy Duty Girdle and a pair of Extra Tall - Hint of Noir stockings completes my foray into the fashion world.

I`m all set until 2037!

2007-12-27T16:46:00.000-08:00

Alert! Alert!
There's a Shriner in the punch!

The last time I had to go out and buy a real girlie gown was my for my wedding. For my nuptials I choose the Groom and the Dress - the rest of it was out of my control. Mom took over.

All that aside, I have to find a gorgerous outfit for New Years. Since the kids were born I haven't really been much for going out, getting inebriated and kissing complete strangers, but since one of my New Years Resolutions is to drink more, this seems like a good start.

In my experience, nobody throws a shin-dig like a bunch of Shriners, so we're heading out to one of their soirees. Who am I to say no? Fez's are totally hot. The Shriners make a damn fine Christmas fruitcake too.

A quick glance through the ol' tickle trunk reveals I possess nothing elegant enough to go with a Black Tie event. I have some nice outfits, but nothing that will scream Little Black Dress/Happy 2008/ohmygoodnessthere'sachampagnecorkinmycleavage.

Gown also means shoes, hosiery, matching bag and a funky do, and sparklies.

Hmmmm.... A quick shower, a spritze of Red Door, my standby party togs and a flippy hairclip isn't going to cut it.

Right. First thing tomorrow morning I have to know one thing.
Do Tent and Awning stores sell black velvet?

Stay tuned...

2007-12-27T16:32:00.001-08:00

With the passing of my mother last June, and the fact I am the only daughter, I belatedly realised I am now the Matriarch of my immediate family.

So, with the help of my football playing sons and the Hub, we lugged a roast the size of Calgary and a sack of Taters up to the ol' Homestead-Condo and rustled up a Christmas dinner for my Bachelor Brother, my divorced Brother and my Bachelor nephew, and widower Dad.

Eight place settings and I was STILL the only chick in the room.

As Matriach there is a perverse pleasure in ordering a group of guys to drop what they are doing, git their fannies into the dining room and nag them into eating far too much before you've even brought out dessert.

The only hitch in my nefarious plan to dominate the Menfolk via dinner is the Matriach of the family must know the intricacies of canning Green Tomato Pickles, a succulent chutney my revered Mother was a master of.

Next summer, I must attempt this feat or face disgrace.

With great power, comes great responsibility.
Now. Where's my damn apron.

2007-12-10T18:01:00.000-08:00

G A S P !

Cards...done...
envelopes stamped...
and in mail....
shopping almost done...
most presents wrapped...
christmas tree up...
shiney ornaments on...
outdoor lights up...

g a s p !

must bake cookies..

F A I N T
Thud!

2007-12-03T16:39:00.000-08:00

S'Up?

Well, I have sent a short story off to the Toronto Star Short Story contest. Winners are announced June 2008. That gives me 7 months to keep busy and not think about that.

So, I have also composed a list of everything I want to write for 2008 -2010.

Next on my list is polishing and registering a horror script I've been working on for a couple of years off and on. During lunch at work, I'm editing it for the third time, finding typos and closing loopholes, generally making it as flawless as possible.

My unpublished novel, Selling Ellie Bassey is going through a title change. I'm polishing the manuscript, writing the synopsis and drafting a query while pondering what agents to send it to. I want my first queries out by January. This is going to be my birthday present to myself. No more fiddling about.

Once my babies are out into the worldm hopefully finding work and sending money home, I have a rather long list of ideas I want to get cracking on.

For 2008 my plans are:
a YA novel
Another movie - low budget thriller
The Gramps stories (5 done out of 13)
A Vampire PI novella
and, of course, something completely silly.

Wish me good luck...
Send tequila.

2007-11-23T18:55:00.000-08:00

What I want this Holiday Season...

I was looking in the store windows today and noticed all those cutesy joke gifts. You know the ones I mean. The Homer Simpson Slippers. The rude-shaped chocolates. The sorts of things you get for people when you really can’t think of anything else that is suitable, so you figure at least you can bring a smile to their face.

But please... I know of local charities desperate for toys to give to needy kids and seeking donations for the homeless. What would really bring a smile to my face is a card that tells me you contributed something to someone who NEEDED it, rather that bought me a little gift I didn’t really need at all.

Goodwill is something that takes many forms. It could be a $10 mosquito net for a kid in Africa. Soap and shampoo for a local women’s shelter. Maybe it’s calling up that someone you once treated badly and apologizing.

A gesture of Goodwill for all men, women, children will mean SO much more to me that that silly ‘Over the Hill and Picking up Speed ‘ t-shirt, or the goofy hat with the bells, or the plastic cow that poops out jellybeans or that knickknack that is very lovely, but frankly, I have no place to put.

Whatever your religion -whatever your philosophy - whether or not you believe there is a Creator or it was all evolutionary chance - strike me off your list of people to buy a ‘little something’ for and put that money and time to where ever you think it would best be served.

It’s win-win. Less holiday stress for you. More goodwill for Mankind.

Imagine if we ALL did this. Next year, maybe... just maybe... we might have a bit more Peace.

Do a mankindness.

And have a Happy New Year.

(Please forward/link this to anyone you feel needs to hear it)

(Written by e.a.b. 2007)

2007-11-16T16:28:00.000-08:00

My speech to the London Writer's Society:

As you may have already heard, I write under the name E. Ann Bardawill. I wanted use the pseudonym J.K. Rowling, but alas, apparently some chick in the UK is already using that one.

Last year I moved to London, and I currently work selling ads for the Londoner, a weekly community newspaper. Before that I lived in Ottawa, Sault Ste. Marie, Barrie and Toronto. I have a college degree in Graphic arts, two surly teenaged sons, a long suffering husband, and a pot of geraniums I call Phil.

I have been seriously writing since about 1992, though it’s always been something I did for fun.
My ambition in high school was, in fact, to write and draw comic books. To me, From Hell by Alan Moore, and Cerebus by Dave Sim, are literature. Comics tend to be dismissed in terms of literary merit, but I like any other form of art, there are always exceptional works. Dave Sim is a writer-artist from Kitchener, Ontario. Along with some of the finest artwork in the comics medium, he brilliantly incorporated the characters of Oscar Wilde, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Earnest Hemingway into his own work with fascinating results. His research notes on these writers are a tremendously interesting in themselves.

Generally, my tastes include the works of Neil Gaiman, Margaret Atwood, and Stephen Fry. I love the Coen brother’s scripts, the skits of Rowan Atkinson and Monty Python. Frank Herbert’s Dune is my all time favourite novel. Crime novels by Ruth Rendall, comic strips by Berke Breathed & Scott Adams, the quirky short stories of Steve Martin and the epic tales of JRR Tolkien all compete for space on my library shelves. War stories, Fairy tales and myths are a great inspiration to me.

In my youth I discovered the works of Conan Doyle and Sherlock Holmes. With Holmes, to my delight, I found organised writing societies like the Toronto Bootmakers. Nothing intills passion for books like being thrown into a highly intelligent mix of intense literary types at an impressionable age. These Sherlockians exposed me the best of the mystery genre, so naturally my first forays into serious storytelling were crime based tales or mysteries.

By 1994, Storyteller Magazine began accepting my work. All my published short stories involved a murder in one form or another. My rule at the time was simple. The murderer had to kill the victim with something unusual. No guns. No knives. They died due to the nefarious use of road salt, a roast beef sandwich or a forged letter. It’s great fun to twist things around, add a huge dollop of human weakness and see what comes of it.

Short Stories are a fine way to master the art of writing. In many ways, novels are a series of short stories strung together. Shorts are also a great way to get publishing credits and learn the ways of the publishing maze.

The first story accepted was titled the Ice King. I submitted it completely incorrectly. Wrong format. No double spacing. A rather flamboyant font, if I recall - but Storyteller Magazine's Terry Tyo just happened to be in the market for a hockey story and I lucked out.

Rejection, I have learned, can be very relative. The trick is timing - as well as writing a cracking good story. Agents reject stories that are well written, because they have seen the idea again and again. They want something fresh. Original.

My latest story published at Spinetingler magazine involved a faith healer that does not believe in God. Turn ideas upside down. Turn the literary sacred cows into beef patties. It’s very liberating. Short stories are rather like exhilarating one night stands – not that I have any first hand knowledge of that sort of sordid behaviour, but it’s a great analogy. I mean, why commit to a long novel when all you want to do is fool around with a concept for a while. A short literary fling also prevents you from making a big mistake in the event it doesn’t work out. Nothing worse that labouring on a novel for years only to find there are irreconcilable differences and it’s going to go nowhere.

With shorts you can approach the publisher directly, but it’s a whole other process to submitting a novel. After my initial short story publishing success, I queried agents and ran straight into scam artists galore. I kept writing but stopped submitting. I knew I would have to tread carefully if I was going to do this properly. So I started reading the blogs of agents, professional writers and publisher’s – in short, studying how the industry works. I have learned a great deal in the past few years. I’ve made blunders and mistakes anyway, but that is part of the process of learning.

My best advice is this: Know where you want to be, then plan the route. You just have to know what you want. It’s not easy, though. It took me about eight years to figure it out.

Why write? Well, I have no illusions about being the next Stephen King, but why go to all this effort and not share it? Writing is cheaper than cocaine and certainly more fun... not that I have any first have experience of cocaine either.

Mostly, I write because I am driven to. The ideas are so numerous I can only scribble them down for later consideration. I always have a few projects going. If I am bored or blocked with one, the other can be put aside for when inspiration strikes. Also, it helps to have a few up your sleeve. If the publisher isn’t in the market for your love story, but they like your writing, then you are prepared.

At this time I am now venturing back out into the world of agents and publishing. The internet offers many brilliant resources, but beware. There are traps and conartists so insidious, they are plot devices worthy of bestselling thrillers. Educate yourself. Ask around. Remember, the cardinal rule is the publishers /agents should be paying you, not the other way around.

Do not forget what a writer isn’t. We are nothing without readers. Take your audience into consideration. If you can write for just one person, you still write for the entire world.

Writers are the weavers of dreams. The observers of Human Drama. The keepers of great histories and of individual memories. Stories and poems inspire sculpture, painting, music and dance, which in turn inspired the next generation of writers, poets, and filmmakers. This creative super-consciousness is not to be taken lightly.

We are the Gods of creation.

Isn’t that cool?

2007-11-13T15:42:00.000-08:00

Speech is written.
Still no idea what I am wearing.

Have to chose a story to read.
Must find story that goes with outfit.

Pondering falling out of blouse in order to deflect awkward questions, like certain Brit author does. On second thought, is now rather unoriginal.

2007-11-11T12:22:00.000-08:00

I've been married for nearly 19 years now. My kids are on the cusp of being university bound. If I get hit by a northbound moose, they really don't need a guardian anymore. In short, things have changed a bit since my last will.

I am in the process of drafting a new one, but until I tripped over Niel Gaiman's blog post I have to confess I never gave this idea consideration. I should have though, heaven knows!

http://www.neilgaiman.com/journal/2006/10/important-and-pass-it-on.html

Do you have a will?
A what will happen to your writing kind of will?

Check out the link. Neil makes a very valid point. If you haven't thought about your literary estate, then think about it. If you don't have a will at all, then for HEAVEN'S sake! get one done.

Neil even makes it easy by providing a sample to take to a lawyer.

Thanks, Neil.

2007-11-06T17:36:00.000-08:00

So my chiropractor asked me to write a testimonial.

Now, you guys know me. Could I write anything normal? Of course not! It was twisted and messed up, not unlike what my spine used to be. Anyway, think Bridget Jones meets Dr. Ben Lerner.

He asked me if he could quote it at his seminars to inspire/crack up others. I said yes, because I am, at the core, an Attn:ho.

Speaking of being an Attn:ho - I will be the speaker at the next meeting of the London Writer's Society (http://www.londonwriters.ca/) on Nov. 15th. I will be talking about my writing, my ambitions, the writers who have influenced me, etc. etc.

Am I pondering clever turns of phrase designed to inspire the burgeoning literary masses of London, Ontario? Hell no! I'm agonising about what to wear.

Once I've given my talk, I shall post it here and hope it will be of interest. I'll know better once it's been actually - yanno - written.

But enough about me.

Let's diss celebrities!

Lord Conrad Black of Crossharbour is, in other news, completely screwed!

What will Babs wear to the sentencing? Something conservative? A little Chanel number that screams please don't lock Conrad up for too long, mmm - Judgesy-wudsy sweetie darling, mmmm?

2007-10-24T17:36:00.000-07:00

Busy week.

ON Monday night, the London Public Libray hosted an author panel with Giller Award Finalist/Author in Residence Edeet Ravel, joined by Paul Cavanaugh and Joan Barfoot.

I haven't read a single one of their books.
However, I certainly will.

Joan raised a point about how women seemed to be frowned upon if they write too violently, something a male writer can get away with more easily. I 'm not certain I agree with that. I'd like to hear from you lot about that. Do you find that your perceptions of females writers are skewed if they write ultra violence?

Test on Monday...

Also-
It's funny how the universal experience of writing makes siblings of us all. The biggest bitch is the lack of time. Time to write. Time to think about writing.

I've finally managed the "room of one's own" in the new house, but I never seem to have as much time to write as I would like. It's always something...

For a while there I was getting up a 5 a.m. to write, but it just takes the stuffing out of me for the rest of the day. I'm too bagged after work, and the weekends are full for family.house maintenaince.

I'd love to hear any ideas on finding/making the time from other writers.

2007-10-21T16:51:00.000-07:00

London Yellow Tabloid Interview with JK Rowling:
Author to reveal all in upcoming Harry Potter Compendium.

By E. A. Bardingham

In this exclusive and unsubstantiated interview with Harry Potter’s Creator, we learn more about her character’s sexual leanings and get a good gander at her cleavage.

LYT: Just recently you revealed that Dumbledore is homosexual. How are the fans taking it?

JKR: Better than I thought they might. Worldwide only a few thousand servers crashed. Generally everyone is being very positive. I had a very nice call from Sir Ian about it.

LYT: Was it a publicity stunt?

JKR: Oh heavens, no! I know all about my character’s... erm.. foibles, as it were, between the sheets. I just didn’t put all that in the books since such things had absolutely no bearing on the story I was telling.

LYT: So this sort of detail is going in your upcoming compendium?

JKR: Exactly.

LYT: Erm... your top button has come undone again, ma’am.

JKR: **rebuttons** Honestly, I thought I pinned that securely. I really must get this silly blouse fixed properly.

LYT: **Crosses legs** Tell me more about the sorts of topics you’ll be revealing in your lingerie.

JKR: Lingerie?

LYT: Compendium! Sorry.

JKR: Well, Draco has a thing for feet. Corns drive him absolutely round the bend. Viktor Krum wears only black silk underpants. Percy likes to be spanked by Centaurs. Ron prefers to cuddle to the Act, and Crookshanks is a very, very bad kitty indeed. **laughs**

LYT: I see. Do you think this is proper reading material for today’s youth. I mean, Harry Potter is considered a children’s ser – look let me fetch you a safety pin or something.

JKR: Oh dear, my bad girls are exposed again, are they?

LYT: All right. That’s quite enough! What’s really going on here, Ms. Rowling?

JKR: Whatcher mean, then?

LYT: Don’t you get all cutesy with the vernacular with me, missy! Cover up and tell me what you are really up to!

JKR: Shan’t!

LYT: There is only possible explanation for you to be falling out of your blouse during interviews and tossing off unPC sexual revelations now that your series is over, Ms Rowling...

JKR: **hesitant** You’re bluffing.

LYT: Am I?

JKR: **Fiddles with microphone** This interview is over.

LYT: Oh god.... it’s true! You’re launching a clothing line, aren’t you?

JKR: *struggling** Can someone help me get this damn mike off!

LYT: Aha! I knew it! The weight loss! The kinky boots you wear! It was obvious all along!

JKR: **Removes mike & leaves**

LYT: Typical.

2007-10-15T16:31:00.001-07:00

It's been an odd week for me.
Odd but good.

I won the 50-50 draw at work and walked away with $18.

Then while shopping over the weekend at the London Farmer's Market I find $10 just lying on the ground.

Then, back at work, the 50-50 committee tells me they miscalculated and I was given another $10.

THEN... when I get home I have a big arse package in the mail!

It's an autographed copy of Patricia Wood's LOTTERY sent to me courtesy of one Mindy '500' Tarquini.

I can take a hint, Lord.
I'll buy a 6/49 ticket tomorrow!

2007-10-13T14:03:00.000-07:00

Quote Gacked from Dave Sim's Blog

Major Stephen M. Murphy, US Army:
"I would like to urge my fellow citizens to remember that it is the government, not the military, that chooses to go to war. And that it is the citizens who choose the government."

It appalled me that only 50% of the eligible voters turned out for the Provincial elections.
Next time, people... Get out and VOTE, dammit!

2007-10-12T16:27:00.000-07:00

I certainly have not been blogging as often as I should have.

**hangs head in shame**

The move took a lot out of me.
My get up and go got up and left.
The sun was in my eyes.
The baseball glove was for the other hand.
The Johnny Depp DVD and the bottle of Cognac were just sitting there...
.
.
.
erm...

I WAS NAPPING, ALRIGHT???

2007-10-04T17:06:00.000-07:00

This weekend is Canadian Thankgiving.

I will be either eating or in nap mode until further notice.

Thank you.

2007-10-03T17:25:00.000-07:00

How....?
How did I manage to injure my arm in a horrible dim sum accident?
Well. It's a long story.

I was bidding farewell to Irving-San (Jewish Samerai) before he departed to the land of the rising Sun.

I reached over the shrimp dumplings to lift the teapot with the intention of pouring myself another cup of Jasmine tea, when something in my wrist went >>PING<< ... and it hurt like a bitch. I couldn't even lift a piece of paper without gritting my teeth in agony.

Luckily it was my left arm, since I mouse with my right.

I devised a make shift tenser bandage out of a Weekender's accent scarf (I keep one handy in the car for just such emergencies) until I could make it to a Shopper's Drug Mart for a proper brace, which I promptly bought - however, once I got it home and opened the nasty plastic container, I realised I'd had a rather bad blonde moment. The brace was made for the right hand and didn't fit quite right.

Three days later it sorted itself out while I did some vigorous gardening.

Kato, no doubt, would have been amused.

2007-09-27T18:19:00.000-07:00

So.

I'm all set up in the new digs.
Office more or less sorted out.

All ready to write.....and....
My wrist in a brace. *

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRGH!!

**sulk**

*horrible dim sum accident

2007-09-23T13:09:00.000-07:00

I don't get out much.

Last night, however, I did. I saw Loreena McKennitt in concert at the JLC.

After Britney and Avril's "I can't really sing, and sometimes lipsynching is too much for me" fiascos, it's a rare treat to hear a performer that not only can really, really sing, but composes and plays 4 or more instruments exceptionally well.

What's also cool about Loreena, is she takes poems like "The Lady of Shallot" or "The Highwayman" or my personal favourite, "The Bonny Swans" and sets them to music.

The concert was very beautiful to watch, as well as to listen to. Lighting and sound were managed just gorgeously, to great yet subtle effect.

If you like Celtic flavoured tunes with some of the best musicians out there (And yes, I'm looking at you, Hugh Marsh) check out

http://www.quinlanroad.com/

Loreena is one of the very few muscians I will buy a CD from without hearing a note first.
She's that good.

2007-09-13T19:49:00.000-07:00

What a week.

Moving is never fun.

When I think of all the junk, the flotsom and jetsom of life that just compiles and clutters one's life. Why, for example do I save milk bag clips. Why? And yet I have enough to melt down and fashion a slinky German sundress.

Now, the 7 large boxes of books I can completely understand, but why am I keeping a bag full of single socks? They may even be premarital socks.

Regardless, the powers that be will take me out of this place feet first. I never want to move again.

We are home.
Finally.

2007-08-19T11:30:00.000-07:00

www.londonwriters.ca

For the past few months I have been involved in the London Writers Society. Cheryl Curtis, formerly of the the Victoria Writer's Society has steered the good ship LWS Penman into a safe harbour. We hold elections next month.

More importantly, I've been getting fabulous feedback on my work, and gained a bit more confidence regarding submitting my novel.

While the online support of the Bunions and all the many useful URLs have been invaluable, there's a quality to the "live" component of a mishmash of writers giving feedback. Online, I tend to gravitate to those who write similiarly to myself. In the LWS group there is a good mix of writers who pick up on things I might not.

Also, reading your own work aloud in fron of others is absolutely fantastic. You pick up on awkward sentances, words and phrases for more easily than if you merely read them in silence.

Get unplugged. And if there isn't a writing group in your area, start one.

Thank you, Cheryl!

2007-08-07T17:57:00.000-07:00

Hairy Handmaidens and the Lottery Monkeys.

Corey Redekop emits a high-pitched girly scream as Pat Wood’s muscular thighs clamp down on him like an unruly horse. A wild crowd flanks the Pit and rumbles encouragement as I elbow my way across the room to the Poker for Pills game in progress. Tarquini is shuffling cards as we watch the match on the newly installed big screen TV. Despite being 50 feet away from the action, it’s already flecked with errant bits of muddy jello cubes.

I set the pitcher of draft on the table and wave over a harried waitress for more gluten-free goodies and Spam-enhanced nibblies. Dana is already half-cut, propped up by her MIL, who’s won most of my prescription meds in less than three hands.

Dana picks up the pitcher and chugs a good third of it. “Thish is the besth blog warming evah…” she enthuses then topples over with a meaty thud. Krecker deftly saves the beer pitcher, de-spams the rim and refills my glass.

Up on the big screen, Pat squeals as Corey’s soul patch tickles a sensitive spot. I have twenty bucks on Corey, but suspect lady luck will go bust on me faster than a 70’s era condom.

Angie lights a Colt cigar and flicks the ash on the polished granite floor next to Dana. I feel a pang for the old linolium, knowing Bonnie’s nails will never get a proper grip on this fancy stuff. I spot her by the bar. She’s wearing a fake moustache and a cheesy beige overcoat. Sandra Ruttan is sticking a “kick me” sign on her back as she tries not to giggle.

Lisa ‘ooohs’ as Pat body slams Corey into the Pit’s oak barrier. Sharon ‘aaaahs’ as Redekop slithers from Pat’s grasp, elbows her kidneys and crushes her face down into the low calorie, aspartame-sweetened muck.

“Your Barnes and Noble ranking can’t save you now!” Corey screams triumphantly as a squashed cube of peach jello slips down his face.

I bit my lip, waiting for Pat’s signal of capitulation. Mindy is unfazed and takes a long pull of her beer. “She can hold her breath for ages – just watch.”

Pat struggles for a few moments, then goes limp. With a whoop, Corey jumps up and raises his arms in victory, splattering mud onto the screaming crowd. Pat suddenly rolls away, surges to her feet, takes a leap from the barrier and executes a flying scissor kick. There is a gasp from the crowd and a sound like a sack of wet cement hitting hardwood.

Redekop goes down faster than a groupie at a Stones concert.

Leaving a trail of chunky slime, the Pit Crew drags the Shelf Monkey out back to hose him off in the alley. Pat squelches over to the poker table to collect her winnings. I hand over a twenty I pilfered from Dana’s purse and pout appropriately.

JA is at the mike, introducing the next match. Rowling is tarted up in a wool kilt. Blue face paint endows her with a fetching Braveheart aura. She sharpens her nails with a cheap cardboard file and stares slitty-eyed as Atwood coolly removes a pair of dangly earrings and dons a bathing cap. Stephen King whispers pointers to JKR as Rex Murphy slips a pair of highly polished brass knuckles into Atwood’s waiting hand.

Oh yes. This will be interesting.

Bending over to filch a crisp fifty from Dana’s purse, I catch a glimpse of Oprah in a Chanel wetsuit hosing down a now conscious Corey in the back alley. Pat trades places with him as she hands over icepack for his face.

The beer may be bad, but life is good.

2007-08-01T11:35:00.000-07:00

(Art copyright Dave Sim)

JA's Bar will be reopening

on Tuesday, August 7th, 2007 at 1 p.m.

The Pit will be reopening with a special NOOBIES match:

Corey Redekop VS Pat Wood

h Special CELEBRITY Match p

J.K. Rowling Vs Margaret Atwood!

Donations of cubed Jello appreciated.

Also! Housewarming Party for BunionDana's new Blog

Bring Gluten Free Snacks and treats for the Cabana Boys.

(No Solicitors, turtles or Romance writers, please)

2007-07-14T14:43:00.000-07:00

http://www.subtletea.com/lisasergienko2007.htm

Bunion Lisa has fun with a mattress.
Check it out.

Great Story, Lisa!

2007-07-14T04:43:00.000-07:00

I would like to hold a moment of silence for Lord Black of Cross Harbour, AKA Conrad Black.

Now, I know he doesn't garner much sympathy these days, especially after being found Guilty as Charged for obstructing justice, etc, and mostly for being so brimming with hubris he's made Paris Hilton look like Mother Teresa in comparison.

But I have to confess my guilty pleasure. I like Conrad. He's larger than Life. He's got balls the size of the Horse Head Nebula. He's a character so unlikely and rare, that he seems more of a fiction than truth.

And Conrad is a writer. During his lengthy trial he penned a biography on Richard Nixon. Before that he published a tome on LBJ, I believe. This from a Canadian, who renounced his citizenship to become a Peer of England, and now may be a permanent 'guest' of the U.S. Prison system.

Barring that, he might disappear, into the night, Babs and her still smoking credit cards in tow. Tossing off thick and thoroughly well written biographies of powerful men in his wake.

He will appeal, of course. While he'll never be CEO of a newspaper chain again, but he can perhaps keep Babs in pearls with his literary efforts.

God speed, Conrad.

(And if you are wondering who the hell Conrad Black is, google him. No one link can do him justice)

2007-07-04T19:14:00.000-07:00

Well, I’m back.

I haven’t been in the mood, nor had the time to read these past few months. I certainly wasn’t ready to dip into anything remotely silly until a few days ago. Couple that with the guilt not having read the published works I should have picked up ages ago…

I have a pile of Must Reads that has includes
1) Ryan Sohmer & Lar Desouza’s comic Looking for Group, a hilarious take on the World of Warcraft gaming world.
2) Capt. Jack’s Piratey opus (with strict instructions not to take chapter 18 too seriously by first mate Kate)
3) Heart of Darkness – one of those books I keep hearing about but wasn’t forced to study in school so I’m going in alone. Hopefully with more luck than I had with JJ’s Ulysses. (Oh Richard L! Never again. NEVER!!)

Anyway, top most on my list was Shelf Monkey, by Corey Redekop. A kindred spirit in that we both lovingly detest the work of Brian Horeck with a depth so deeply pure we hit the hellishly molten core of the earth long ago. And, lemme tell ya, it stung a bit.

Redekop is a Canadian bibliophile, and Shelf Monkey is his first book. And it’s a damn good one.

Shelf Monkey is great read. Funny and deeply light - it’s like Douglas Adams meets Rex Murphy, rents a hotel room for the weekend and indulges in wild, uninhibited cunning linguistics. After such a satisfying tale, do not be surprised by the urge to light up a cigarette even if you don’t actually smoke.

(There. You’ve been blurbed and blurbed hard, Corey. And I mean every word too.)

Seriously though, this is a booklover’s book. Redekop’s gone where several authors would absolutely shudder at the mere thought of treading. Redekop lambasts, with savage glee, the popular & banal drek that passes for mainstream literature these days. Here, indeed, his pen is mightier than any sword, even one wielded by the King of Gondor on crack.

Munroe Purvis is a talk show host and shameless publisher of bilious drivel. His power over the minds of his fans is an affront to those literate front line warriors in the trenches of the retail bookshelves. Their heart felt recommendations fall on deaf ears as the Purv’s consuming sheep care only to delve into books that carry a Munroe Purvis stamp of approval.

Something must be done.

Seen through the eyes of Thomas Friesen, a superb milquetoastian hero on the run from the law, the twisted tale of the Shelf Monkey’s revenge is a bookreader’s self-righteous romp through the aisles, peppered with delightful tips of the hat to great storytellers (and sly recommendations to various great works that I will add to my already toppling pile of Must Reads). Equally compelling is the Redecop’s Hannibal Lectorish verbal evisceration of those authors/paperbacks of less-than-stellar prose who somehow make it to the NYT best seller lists.

Corey, buddy. We who are about to die from laughter, salute you!

The only thing I would humbly ask is in the second edition you might conveniently list the Shelf Monkey’s Recommendations by title and author name in the back.

Please and thank you.

2007-07-01T12:54:00.000-07:00

Love you, Mom.

2007-06-22T15:12:00.000-07:00

All I want to know is the answer to a few questions pertaining to the nature of the universe.

Is Dana addicted to zillion dollar cup cakes?

Is Utopia possible?

Are we the only sentient life in the Galaxy?

What does Barry Eisler's stubble taste like?

Alas...

2007-06-08T15:11:00.000-07:00

http://forums.fark.com/cgi/fark/comments.pl?IDLink=2855164

Paris had been returned to the Crowbar Hotel.
Thank you, once again, Judge Sauer.

In other news...

London is a hot bed of Intrigue.

Michael Moore's premiere of his movie SICKO is happening tonight at the Silver City Cinema. His view of the American vs the Canadian medical system will, no doubt, be a controversial at his take on gun control in his film Bowling For Columbine.

Which brings me to the murder-suicide that occured in my neighbourhood last night.
London police officer, Insp. Kelly Johnson shot her ex-lover, retired Superintendent David Lucio and then turned her police revolver on herself.

http://cnews.canoe.ca/CNEWS/Canada/2007/06/08/4244608-sun.html

The whole city is in utter and absolute shock. If you wrote about such a crime of passion in a book, people would think it completely far fetched. Two highly respected officers, the most horrific part being that Insp. Kelly was "a leader in fighting domestic violence"

Truth, undoubtably and always shall be, stranger than fiction.

2007-06-07T19:50:00.000-07:00

Cue the revolution:

Letting Paris Hilton out is a mistake.
Bad, bad mistake.

The American People will take a lot of crap... but not this.

Put that little menace BACK in the crowbar hotel and MAKE her serve her TIME. Otherwise the American People will have to see that it's all a horrible lie. That if the likes of Paris Hilton will not or cannot take responsibilty for her actions, then all bets are off.

We, the people demand:
PARISACCOUNTABILITY

2007-06-03T05:42:00.000-07:00

http://www.sjsu.edu/depts/english/nextbook.htm

HALLELUYAH!!!

YES! YES!! YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh....oh....oh...
.
.
.
I need a cigarette.

2007-05-28T03:19:00.000-07:00

Over on Corey's blog (See Shelf Monkey Link) he has discovered the joy of tattooing one's book icon onto one's body.
Apparently, this in not an uncommon thing for guy-brarians to do.
Who knew?

Mindy continues her quest to write a book that will have agents fighting to the death over her saucy Ginsue tongue- causing bidding wars and the end of civilization as we know it.

Miss Snark is gone but not forgotten, the faint scent of gin-soaked poodle remains in the air.

Me?
I had a shower last night, slept on my still damp tresses, and now my head resembles an Alien hair-do from the old Star Trek series.

Mondays...

2007-05-20T13:49:00.000-07:00

Miss Snark is retiring.
And for the record, I am not taking this well.

WAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!

May her gin bottle remain full,
May Killer Yapp forever dog her steps.
May George Clooney pop by every birthday -
Rose in teeth and copy of Karma Sutra in hand...
May her query pile contain the next J.K. Rowling.
May her snarkives lead the multitudes to less nitwittery.

You shall be missed, my dear Miss.

Fare thee well.

2007-05-17T19:09:00.000-07:00

Egads.

I was supposed to be back to this blog DAYS ago, but for some stupid reason could not get into Blogger.

Sorry I'm late.

Anyway... news...
Am back to editing Selling Ellie Bassey, and armed with a new and gloriously fast laser printer, I can now print out the $#!%$ manuscripts for proper editing in mere minutes! WHEEEEEEEEE!

The London Writers' Society is now officially formed thanks to the intrepid Cheryl Curtis (Formerly of Victoria, BC.)
FINALLY! First Fiction Critnight was tonight. At a pub.

Yes, there was crit in-between rounds of beer.

I read Gramp's story #4. In two weeks I'll bring Ellie in for some feedback.

2007-05-09T16:44:00.000-07:00

http://www.azcentral.com/ent/celeb//articles/0509parisplea-CR.html

My heart felt thanks goes out to Judge Mike.
You have restored my faith, sir.
Yes, you have...

2007-05-03T03:25:00.001-07:00

Dana Lin’s got nothing but GAMES… and it’s such a good story I won’t mention the thing she has for my feet.

2007-04-30T17:23:00.000-07:00

Hi.

Just popped in for a moment to say this.

Mindy has been holding out on me.

I want her Johnny Depp squeeze toy.
I want it now.
And I am willing to fight someone named Heidi for it.

So...

Can anyone loan me a mace, some chainmail and a war horsie?

2007-03-23T03:31:00.000-07:00

Blog on hold until further notice.
Sorry for any incontinence.

Due to RL stuff, a few rather serious deadlines, etc. etc.
I will stop fooling myself for a couple of months and simply say ...

I'll be back on May 15th, 2007

Thank you for your interest in my blog.
Your surfing pleasure is important to us.

Please come again...

2007-03-10T02:51:00.000-08:00

Richard Lewis Takes NYC Library….literally! YAY!!!

2007-03-04T19:18:00.000-08:00

February.

Thank heavens THAT's over.

On the writing front I've completed a screenplay I started a few years ago, and can now move forward on a short Canadian Noir story. It tooks AGES for me to think up a suitably twisted idea but now I know what I want to do.

Once that is completed I can then start editing Selling Ellie Bassey

Oooooohh...right... taxes...

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!

2007-02-28T17:59:00.000-08:00

BobbyLynn-Jo VS Dave Sim and The 14 Impossible Things to Believe before Breakfast AKA The things I do to try and win a $@!#$*&!!! Diamondback Deck. AKA Fun with Pheminiszm

1. A mother who works a full-time job and delegates to strangers the raising of her children eight hours a day, five days a week does just as good a job as a mother who hand-rears her children full time.

I reckon, them strangers that dun take care o’ Aunt Britney’s childs ‘n critters is a good thang, cuz iffen Aunt Britney takes ‘em out with her to them raves’ n’ such they just git plunked on the bar while she runs offen ter look for her underthangs.
2- It makes great sense for the government to pay 10 to 15,000 dollars a year to fund a daycare space for a child so its mother – who pays perhaps 2,000 dollars in taxes – can be a contributing member of society.

My third cuzzin (twice divorced), Elvirene says daycare is a bad thang, cuz iffen she stays home instead and keep squirting out anklebiters, then she makes way more than 10g’s cuz she then gits the welfare money and the baby bonus money and all her perscripshun drugs and thangs fer free. This way she kin stay home all day and watch Dr. Phil and have ter work at all.

3. A woman's doctor has more of a valid claim to participate in the decision to abort a fetus than does the father of that fetus.

Elvirene used ter think she had one of them immaculation conniptions, but the doc figured she must got knocked up after she borrowed her brother’s washcloth. She dun told her brother and he dun got the shotgun and went out ter the Quagmire Hollar town limits and shot up the first stork he found.

4. So long as a woman makes a decision after consulting with her doctor, she is incapable of making an unethical choice.

Well, the doc arranged fer Elvirene to give up her baby ter a nice lady that were barren and wanted a rugrat o’ her own, so it all worked out fine.

5. A car with two steering wheels, two gas pedals and two brakes drives more efficiently than a car with one steering wheel, one gas pedal and one brake which is why marriage should always be an equal partnership.

My pappy dun had a car jest like that! Cuz with him being dyslexic and all, it were up ter Ma ter see that he went right when he meant ter go right and left when he meant ter go left. One day his dyslexia dun got cured after he got kicked in the head by our mule, Paris. Then they traded that old car in fer a Ford truck with only 450,000 miles on it.

6. It is absolutely necessary for women to be allowed to join or participate fully in any gathering place for men, just as it is absolutely necessary that there be “women only” environments from which men are excluded.

My funny cousin, Otis-Ray, the one with all them Liberanchy records, once tried to join the Ladies Auxiliary down at the Legion but the Menfolk didn’t think that were quite right and not long after Otis-Ray got all them feathers ‘n tar offen his head, he moved his bony ass to San Francisco.

7. Because it involves taking jobs away from men and giving them to women, affirmative action makes for a fairer and more just society.

I remember when my sister, Bobby-Laura beat out old Sam Cooter fer a bouncer job at the bar by arm wrestling him fer it. It worked out purty good, cuz when folks got drunk during the full moon and were particularly ornery, Bobby-Laura would be PMSing purty bad and nobody dun wanted ter piss HER off, so folks now act way more civil-like during the karaoke.

8. It is important to have lower physical standards for women firepersons and women policepersons so that, one day, half of all firepersons and policepersons will be women, thus more effectively protecting the safety of the public.

The Quagmire Hollar police chief jest gave a medal to Bernadettene Earle for outstanding bravery. See, the chief dun spent the last few years eating sugar pie down at the roadside café, and he can’t move so quick no more. So when them bikers came ter town, Bernadettene (Three time kick boxing champene of Lanark County) asked them ter leave and they didn’t wanna, she asked them not so nicely by introducing her steel toed boots to their teeth a few times and then they all said they was really sorry and it wouldn’t happen agin, n’such.

9. Affirmative action at colleges and universities needs to be maintained now that more women than men are being enrolled, in order to keep from giving men an unfair advantage academically.

My Gram ran off with a college boy once but Gramps found him and beat him up purty bad. But Gramma learned ter read and write from the college boy and taught Gramps how to read and make a fancy “X” on papers ‘n such, so it all worked out.
‘Cept fer the college boy, who spent his educashun money on new dentures.

10. Having ensured that there is no environment for men where women don’t belong (see no.6) it is important to have zero tolerance of any expression or action which any woman might regard as sexist to ensure greater freedom for everyone.

My uncle Bobby-Bob is in the army and he dun told me the US Military won’t need ter have the draft no more now that wimmin kin join up. That’ll make up fer all them draft dodgers and Quebec I guess. My Gram flew fighter planes ‘cross the ocean fer the Air Force back in the day. She thunk that purty funny, since legally she’d only be thunk o’ as a ‘human’ for a couple o’ decades.

11. Only in a society which maintains a level of 95% of alimony and child support being paid by men to women can men and women be considered as equals.

My brother sued his ex-Woman fer child support and won. Now him and the boy gots a nice trailer, and a pet wolf and a Sherman tank o’ their own. My brother says all his friends kin do the same and he hands out his lawyering man’s card’s cuz I guess he gits a finders fee ‘r something. Guys kin be a bit shy ‘bout this at first but once they gits on ter it, things’ll it’ll be 50-50 again in no time.

12. An airline stewardess who earned $20,000 a year at the time that she married a baseball player earning $6 million a year is entitled, in the event of a divorce, to $3 million for each year of the marriage and probably more.

My Uncle Kevin and Aunt Britney jest had a whopper o’ a fight over this very thang. Uncle Kev sez her needs that money fer raising the kiddies ‘n ter pay fer therapy n’ all.

13. A man's opinions on how to rear and/or raise a child are invalid because he is not the child's mother. However, his financial obligation is greater because no woman gets pregnant by herself.

A woman kin so git pregnant by herself! Jest never never borrow yer brother’s washcloths after he been using it, is all.

14. Disagreeing with any of these statements makes you anti-woman and/or a misogynist.

I met this guy once who said I were a Theorectical Feminsist and I dun TOLD him I were Pentacostal and no mistake ‘bout that.

I once saw a misogynist once fer a pap smear and swore I’d never do back until he warmed that dem thing up first.

I guess I agree with them statements above. Kin I git my cards now?

For the record, SL wasn't buying it.

2007-02-20T16:12:00.000-08:00

Over at Dave Sim's Blog, Dave responds to one of my letters.

Elizabeth A. Bardawill hits the ground running:

Dear Dave,
Okay. I'm pissed. Not in a "too many fermented beverages in too short a period of time" sort of way, but in an "I'm fed up to the teeth with this" sort of way.

(I'll try to keep this relatively unemotional and blessedly short.)

This whole "Pariah King" thing? It's over. You've been usurped. Big time. Rick Olney has now taken that title and it looks as if he's going to be hanging onto it for many, many years to come. You're deposed, Dave. It's over. I mean…honestly! That was ten years ago, okay? Did you hear me, young man? You. Are. No. Longer. The. `Pariah. King'.

My point is—go ahead and write the introduction for Troy Little's Chiaroscuro. The first edition. If comics were kids, Chiaroscuro would be your artistic grandchild. That introduction belongs to you and to no one else. Where comics, and the quality thereof, is concerned, you have plenty of hard-won street cred. Respect for you as a comic artist and advocate far outweighs any negative sentiment still lingering. (Trust me on that. I Googled it.)
So. Write the introduction for Troy…please.

Yours respectfully,

Well, nice TRY, Elizabeth (I was chuckling pretty good when I came to the end of your letter) but I'm afraid it just doesn't work that way here in the real world. I can certainly understand you comic-book feminists wanting to change the history of the last twelve years and "wish away" or "declare null and void" the idea that Dave Sim is a pariah (now that I'm here to hector you all on a daily basis so that the feminist choices of the last decade or so vis-à-vis Dave Sim are starting in retrospect to look a little…shall we say…tactically inopportune?), but I'm afraid the evidence just doesn't back you up. The historical record is there of how I was treated prior to 1994 and how I have been treated since 1994—all shunning, all vilification and all without one single feminist addressing or refuting a single one of my ideas whether in issue 186 or in "Tangent" or Collected Letters or any of my other writings on feminism.

The point that your team missed and which your team continues to miss is that the net effect of shunning and ostracism when it is used in place of reasoned discourse and refutation—especially over a period of years—is cumulative. It would certainly be nice for your team if your recent Google search could completely undo the last twelve years like some weird feminist magic wand but, again, it just doesn't work like that. Want me to refute your charge that I'm no longer the Pariah King of Comics? No problem. How about this from Carla Speed McNeil's interview in the latest Comics Journal (how's that for up-to-date?):

NASO: That reminds me of Cerebus. A lot of people complained about the way the story turned out. But it is Dave Sim's story.

McNEIL: Yeah, it is his story and the man's work is still worth poring over for technique. He's one of the most skilled people we've ever had. It's just that at some point he merged face-first with his own work and everything that popped into his head ended up on the page, however bizarre and obsessive.

See: "bizarre and obsessive". Those are not terms that denote respect or "street cred", Elizabeth. Those are terms of ostracism and shunning, patronization and condescension—the exact way that you treat a pariah and the core of the Feminist Party Line in the comic-book field relative to Dave Sim. If anything, any "street cred" that I have comes from the fact that a certain number of guys—still cowed and intimidated by your team and the implied threat that ostracism and vilification can be used on them as well and consequently still silent on the subject of Dave Sim—are starting to realize that you can tell feminists that they're full of s**t even if there's only one guy doing it. In a democratic society, freedom of speech is (at least theoretically) for everyone, not just for feminists, homosexuals or those who believe the genders are interchangeable. I assume that there will be more support for my views as we go along and people clue in that feminists have never been able to refute anything that I've said about them and their movement. In fact, Craig R. Johnson, managing editor of www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com actually went public with challenging the Friends of Lulu for ignoring both me and him and the points that we're making (as we will see when we get to February 25 and the next instalment of "free rides for feminists in our society" here on the Blog & Mail). That was unexpected, very gratifying and a lot sooner than I would have thought possible considering the implied feminist threat against anyone speaking out against feminism. Back at the CSM interview:

NASO: It stopped being about Cerebus.

McNEIL: Very much so. Cerebus was one of my formative experiences. It will always be in the back of my head how brilliantly [Sim] pasted a conversation how many nuances he was able to get out with his approach to lettering. The man is incredibly expressive, but we're leaving aside what he chooses to express…

Well, of course you are, Carla, because you can't even begin to refute what it is that I'm saying and have been saying for twelve years. Instead of "leaving aside what he chooses to express" why don't you (oh, I don't know) refute the "Fourteen Impossible Things to Believe Before Breakfast"? Why don't you refute seven of them? Five of them? Three of them? Pick one, Carla, and refute it: "This is not an impossible thing to believe, this is the sole sensible and legitimate way to conduct our society." Well, you can't. So all you can do is toe the Feminist Party Line in the comic-book field and treat Dave Sim and his work (like "The Fourteen Impossible Things to Believe Before Breakfast" as contained in "Tangent") as if both are self-evidently clinically insane. It's the only feminist recourse. "This guy has us nailed dead to rights so all we can do is establish that shunning him, ostracizing him and treating him and his work like a colossal failure is the only sensible way to behave and hope he kills himself or he just gets forgotten on our say-so." So far, it's working like a charm. Everyone has fallen into lockstep and gotten with the program. Even the people who disagree just shuffle nervously on the sidelines and don't dare utter a single word in my defence. Hey, I'm completely at peace with that. I've got twelve years of historical record to back up my version of reality: feminism is indefensible so all they can do is attack someone personally who dares to question feminism. Twelve years so far and I assume there'll be another good twelve years of this. "Poor, sad, failed Dave Sim" being the enunciated universal consensus and everyone else shuffling nervously and silently on the sidelines. But, let me ask you this: How do you think that's going to make your team look in the long run when the historical record actually gets examined and men discover that in a democratic society they have a right to free speech and to express an opinion on what was done to Dave Sim, Elizabeth? Exactly the way you'll deserve to look, is my guess.

Anyway (I'm still chuckling gleefully away to myself, Elizabeth) feel free to give it another Orwellian revisionist try anytime the mood takes you and I'll bet I'll have a half dozen "poor, sad, failed Dave Sim" Feminist Party Line examples of ostracism and vilification to match whatever you happen to come up with to prove that I've only been imagining my "pariahdom". Thanks as always for writing. I look forward to writing the introduction for the second edition of Chiaroscuro and (please try not to take this personally) I really don't give a tinker's damn what you think about my decision to pass on the first one. How about that, eh? A man who doesn't care what a feminist thinks of his choices.

What if it catches on, Elizabeth? Won't THAT be fun?

Ah well.
I tried, Troy.
Sorry, Dude.

2007-02-19T18:20:00.000-08:00

I'm using the "new" blogger.

I was forced into it.
I feel so dirty.

2007-02-12T03:50:00.000-08:00

It's 20 years since I met my Hubster. In the beginning there was a great deal of wooing on my part, since he'd had his heart stomped on, then stuck into a blender, then poured into a bucket of compose, then buried under a rock and then a tonne cement poured over top.

I had to woo him and woo him hard.

Cards, chocolates, flowers, shiny balloons with mushy saying on them, chicken soup, a lot of smooches, etc. etc.

I love Valentine's Day. I get to spoil him all over again. And it never fails to make him feel wonderful.

So listen, ignore all that "Valentine's day is so commercial" humbuggery. If you love someone, let 'em know it. Everyone likes to be romanced. Guys too.

2007-02-01T18:27:00.000-08:00

www.youtube.com/watch?v=YoNYp_Mg9lo

This is hilarious.
Hinterland should always be like this...

Enjoy.

2007-01-30T01:51:00.000-08:00

http://shelf-monkey.blogspot.com/

Over at Corey's blog, he gets his first advance, does the math, and cries.

Also! Abridged Moby Dick porn!

2007-01-21T04:25:00.000-08:00

Delicious Missed.

I don’t know what I find worse – the lack of time to read, or the lack of time to write.

Saturday mornings are the designated in-depth newspaper/magazine reading times for me and mine. Hot coffee within reach. Feet up on the sofa. My earthy body wrapped in a snug robe.

By noon there are a variety of publications strewn about the room like rumpled, hungover hookers - callously picked up, perused with interest then discarded. Trollops all - The Onion, the New York Times, the Toronto Star, the Western, Art, Business London, ArtScape and Scene - eventually dumped into a carpeted corner where the beige berber weave is quite gray with vegetable-based ink.

The contents are subconsciously thought about, resulting in the occasional bits sought out and clipped for future reference. The food for thought, once half-digested, leads to the troubling indigestion of half-baked inspiration. But is it real substance worth pushing or is it just wind?

Aaaaah yes! The ‘ca-ca poo-poo’ methophor. Always – always - always the writer’s realization that one reader’s steaming pile of feces maybe another’s literary masterwork.

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s referred to such deliberately written pieces as “cheap” and “vulgar”. He didn’t want to write crap, but more often than not, they supported him so he could write his ‘real stuff’. The same struggles and dilemmas that have been plaguing me for years - ring through his letters.

I recommend this book - F. Scott Fitzgerald, On Writing. Edited by Larry W. Phillips. Although I’ve read little of Fitzgerald’s work, his observations on the craft resonated deeply with me. It’s reassuring to know one is not alone, or that in 80 years things haven’t really changed all that much for writers and storytellers.

Nor has it, I suppose, in 8000 years.

2007-01-16T19:10:00.000-08:00

Writer/Artist Dave Sim 'interviews' Troy Little at his blog.

http://davesim.blogspot.com/

After Dave finished publishing issue 300 of Cerebus, the only gleam of intelligent comics on the horizon was Troy Little's Chiaroscuro. Troy tells his story about getting screwed over in Ottawa. (Alas, a situation I can sadly relate to.)

For anyone interesting in the perils of self-publishing a comic book, this is a worthy read.

ta!

2007-01-16T04:15:00.000-08:00

Open Letter to Author Brian Horeck

re: Frozen Beneath (Sequel to Minnow Trap)

Dear Mr Horeck.

Due to massive climate change causing lack of ideal ice fishing conditions, your book is now cancelled until her Majesty's Pleasure.

Sorry for any incontinence.

Thank you.
Management.

2007-01-05T18:04:00.000-08:00

I... I... I've died and found Valhalla...

www.moderndrunkardmagazine.com/submissions

But do they pay?

2007-01-01T12:14:00.000-08:00

Happiest of New Years to one and all!

My resolution this year?

I resolve to polish and submit my novel Selling Ellie Bassey to literary agents.

The time of my being a chickshit is over, people.
OVER!!!

2006-12-26T06:19:00.000-08:00

While composing a rhyme for the celibate
I doctored a soupcon of halibut.
The flesh shimmered like silk
under a blanket of milk
that I dunked it in, just for the hell of it.

Honorary Olive Winner: M.G. Tarquini - For somehow making me hungry and horny at the same time.

There once was a celibate
Who had the itchiest butt,
The doctors tested his colon
Until he confessed he'd stolen
And returned the silk plant to Dana's hut.

Honorary Olive Winner: Dana Tan - For best use of a non-limerick form in a limerick contest.

And the WINNERS ARE
Angie & Andrew (Essentially because they used the word “knickers” and that always makes me giggle like a schoolgirl)

There once was a celibate nun
Who never knew how to have fun
She bought new silk knickers
And smuggled in liquor
And now she's a nun on the run.

Honorable Mention to Lisa S. and Richard Lewis for being delightfully un-PC, abet late to the party entries.
Go buy Richard's book, The Killing Sea.
Now… Angie… SPEECH!!!

2006-12-25T11:46:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas to all and a notice the Golden Martini Award shall be bestowed upon one of the lacivious limerick entries - three entries on time (and one belated and off-topic) tomorrow as promised.

There is one Grand Prize winner and two Honorary Olives to be awarded.

Stay tuned....