The loss of superlatives

I've always been the sort of person to speak in superlatives. I talk about the greatest thing, waggle my tongue around three-syllable words that overflow the conversation, wave my arms about, waggle my eyebrows, roll my eyes. In writing, I try to take out my excitable words, seek other phrases that are less "Golly Gee!"…

Some people say these are the worst of times…

Ah, Styx.....How I loved them, still do. Was mellowing out to music today while stabbing a felted mushroom (yes, my life is odd) and this came up on iTunes Shuffle. I loved Styx in the day, though sometimes their heavy musicality, like that of the Alan Parson's Project, overwhelmed my ears like too much Beethoven's…

Freaking Out!

Gawd. I am losing it, and so, apparently, is the rest of the world. Everyone is fighting one another, my sodding first-born is still not speaking to me with extreme prejudice, journalists are being kidnapped and women everywhere are being killed and raped and abused and by golly jinkums, I am just about ready to…

Hope, or living present while giving presents

It's been a week. Shootings in Canada, Women hung for living, flogged for breathing, elections going to the right-wing, just a whole bunch of despair-inducing news. So I dither, and distract myself. Drink wine. Laugh too loud. Read the inter webs. There are only a few wonderful blogs I follow religiously and read every day…

The Writer’s Union and the art of gentle discouragement

I was lucky enough to be able to attend a Writer's Union workshop yesterday. I say lucky, because, as a writer without a book published by a "real" publishing house, I can't be a member, so it was a bit like being invited to a frat house but not allowed to drink. It was an…

Revolutionary regrets, I’ve had a few…

Wouldn't it be wonderful if the oppressed of the world could actually succeed in overthrowing the oppressors? Everywhere there is seething, but the outcomes are minimal, except for those killed, beaten, and imprisoned in the protest. Tyrants become stronger. It breaks my heart. I remember travelling to Havana last Christmas, eager to see the Revolution's…

International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award – or check here to depress yourself about a writing career

Wow. Just pulled up this list, as my favourite author ever, Helen Humphreys, is on the long-list, for her wonderful book, The Reinvention of Love. GAWD it's depressing how many really truly good books there are out there. It's not that I feel envy, no, it's just that when I read them I realize how…

“We don’t need more writers! We need more readers!”

Somewhere back in Nanowrimo land, I read a commentary about the piles of dreck being produced through the month. The quote above comes from that commentary, but I can't find the reference this morning, peering as I am through the slits of eyes produced by profound weeping as I realize another dream is lost, down…

It’s spring, when a young heart’s thoughts turn to those of love…or is that just limerence?

Ah, the joy of another new word. I thought there were phases of love, yes, but I knew nothing of the word limerent, coined by Dorothy Tennov in 1977. She described an anxious form of attachment, much like the infatuation of early love, but which varies according to the uncertainty associated with the LO (limerent…