Jeff Harrison

We are the Food.

The first Hellmaw book has been published by renowned author Ed Greenwood, so be sure to check it out, as he is the diabolical mastermind behind the creation of the world that I will be playing in for my upcoming novel.

As the autumn days die into the long dead nights of winter, we pick up on my last post, where I asked you: what if we were food? What if we were no longer at the top of the food chain and rather than the occasional shark attack, or lions, tigers and bears, we were actively hunted as food.

Let’s retreat from the nihilistic view of complete world destruction from a massive feeding frenzy, like we see on TV and in the movies, which are chock-a-block of zombies ambling endlessly after us in The Walking Dead, or more terrifyingly, swarming us at super speeds in 28 Days Later and World War Z.

Before the grotesquely dead hunted us in pop culture, we’ve long been stalked by seductively dangerous vampires, who are at their best when they are akin to serial killers, toying with us in 30 Days of Night, enslaving us in Blade, or outright farming us like cattle in Daybreakers.

Who can forget the vicious otherworld hunters popular two decades ago who pursued us so they could reproduce in Aliens, for sport in Predator, or duped us into thinking they came in peace during the TV series V.

The difference between these latter two groups and the current infestation of zombies, is a smart predator understands how to cull the heard without over feeding, because to do so would lead to starvation. The smart predator also understands how vastly outnumbered it would be if the herd suddenly transformed their fear into a desperate will for survival and turned on it.

As many of us who would certainly fall victim like lambs to the slaughter, given good reason, our fear of being hunted could easily flip to anger and a desire for revenge. Having been at the top of the food chain for all of our evolution, it would take very little to foment that fear of being the hunted and once again becoming the hunters. That would not bode well for our solitary stalkers at all.

No, this kind of hunter is far more insidious. It requires iron self-control and a deep understanding of the subtle balance between annihilation and starvation. Let the feeding get out of control and the “food” fights back, or disappears completely. It requires skill. It requires cunning.

These are the types of monsters I find fascinating. And scary. Terrifying really. That scene from 30 Days of Night where the teen-aged girl is used as bait to lure the remaining survivors out of hiding is utterly chilling. It was firmly etched in my mind the first time I saw it in the theatre, and still gives me the shivers.

That is the kind of monster that will be populating my slice of Hellmaw. Won’t you stick around and see who becomes the hunter and who the hunted?

November 12, 2015 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: 28 days later, 30 days of night, aliens, blade, cull the heard, daybreakers, ed greenwood, food fights back, hellmaw, hunted, hunter, hunters hunted, insidious, lambs to slaughter, predator, skill and cunning, the walking dead, V the Visitors, voracious, we are the food, world war z, you are the food, your world is doomed | Leave a comment

Meat.

So let’s talk about food for a moment. Specifically meat. I think it’s one of the food groups that we completely take for granted. Like where it comes from—oh sure we have a basic idea, animals are killed for it—but unless you are a hunter or a farmer, I don’t think it’s something we give much thought to. We just trundle through the aisles of the supermarket, picking over the lovely cellophane wrapped pink and red squares, raising our eyebrows at the increasing prices, looking for what’s on sale, what a particular recipe calls for, or what we feel like cooking. Some of us go a step further by shopping organic, patting ourselves on the back, feeling good about animals raised humanely…but are they killed humanely? Is that part of the organic process?

Unless you have been hunting, caught something, shot something, tied it to the roof of your car and brought it all home, how familiar are you with killing something? A story for you: my sister, driving home one evening saw a young doe along the side of the road. She’d been hit by a car, which presumably had just driven on not too worse for the encounter, while the doe lay heaving out her last breaths. My sister, ever the animal lover, pulled over and comforted the poor thing during its final moment on Earth. When the ordeal was over, she felt the best way to honour this majestic animal’s passing was to not leave it for the scavengers, but to take it home, cut it up for venison and cure the hide as a token of this intense learning experience. So that’s just what she did.

Two things left an indelible impression on me after she shared this story with me a few days after it had all occurred: First, ugh, how could she eat road kill?! And second, she remarked on how much hard work it had been stringing the animal up, bleeding it out, butchering it and disposing of that which could not be salvaged as food.

How many of us have seen a large animal bleed out? How many of us have been the one to break its neck, slit its throat, string it up, gut it…you get the idea. There is a huge part of the process almost all of us have never given a thought to, never mind participated in. How nice for it to arrive at our store in these lovely little pristine white packages with the clear window or wrapped tightly in butcher’s paper.

Now I am not a vegetarian, never have I entertained the desire to give up meat—I enjoy it way too much! I had some of my sister’s road kill venison stew and it was delicious. She used to be a Lacto-Ovo Vegetarian for over 10 years. Until one day she wasn’t. Funny story about that. It was the morning of a holiday—Christmas or Thanksgiving—and we woke to the glorious smell of coffee brewing and bacon frying. Mum and I were deep in our routine of quietly reviving over a cup of fresh java, Dad was yakking away and my sister came down, sat at the table and then yelled, “I can’t take it anymore!” and jammed a fistful of bacon in her mouth. That was the end of her meat shunning days.

Now to get to the “meat” of my post. We know, or choose to know, very little about how meat ends up on our table to be consumed. I myself have never killed anything. We are blissfully ignorant sitting at the top of the food chain, being good little consumers with a clear conscience. So my question to you, dear readers, is what if we weren’t? What if we were the food? How would our society change? How would we as individuals need to change if we were suddenly the meat being consumed?

I’d love to hear you sound off in the comments section below, or on my Facebook page dedicated to the novel. It’d be great if we can pick up and continue this discussion in my next blog post.

October 28, 2015 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: bacon, butcher, ed greenwood, hellmaw, humans as food, hunters hunted, hunting, mage red hat, meat, onder librum, road kill, we are the food | Leave a comment

Your World is Doomed!

Tonight the Red Mage has thrown open the first of the gates, the one to Hellmaw!

I’m finally able to share with you a few details of the teaser I was dying to tell you back in September: I am part of Ed Greenwood’s creative universe, Onder Librum. And I have been contracted to do a novel in his first world, Hellmaw.

There was a great war. Those who were triumphant banished the vanquished through one-way portals, never to return home. They were sentenced to live out their immortal lives forever in exile. That world is ours. We are their food.

Ever since I met darkness I was enamored. A city at night is a transformed thing, a creature with a life of its own, denizens not of the day world. There are different rules after sunset and if you don’t know them, aren’t quick to adapt, more’s the pity for you. Nervous? Don’t be. Take my hand, I can guide you through the danger. You trust me, don’t you? I’ll show you things, things you never knew you wanted to know.

This is the place I’ll be sharing my writing, introducing my characters and revealing tidbits of my story. Some of it is going to be raw, naked, untested. A lot of it won’t make it into the final manuscript, so join me for the journey–I give good road trip.

Click the buttons along the right and follow me here, via Twitter and my new Facebook page that will be dedicated solely to this project.

See you where the sun don’t shine…

October 19, 2015 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: ed greenwood, gates, hell gate, hell on earth, hell portal, hellmaw, hunted, onder librum, portal, red hat, red mage, your world is doomed | Leave a comment

Stuck.

*COUGH! COUGH! COUGH!*

Wow. It’s been quite a while…hasn’t it? Three years almost to the day. I was actually going to wait until the actual anniversary, but being the phenomenal procrastinator that I am, I didn’t want to risk missing it.

So a lot has been up. Quite. A. Lot. Not sure where to begin. I think the trick to getting this post live is to keep things brief, at least until I get back into a good rhythm.

So I retired from PinkPlayMags. It was time. I’d accomplished all I really wanted to accomplish with the little magazine that could. I learned reams about being an editor. I’m very proud of my 7 years there. Toronto hosted WorldPride in 2014, so I thought that was a truly inspiring high-point on which to leave the mag and push on to something new. Something different.

I’ve been dreaming a lot. My usual crazy cinematic dreams. They are quite like a Jean-Pierre Jeunet film. My unfinished novel has once again been languishing on the shelf, collecting dust like this blog…but it hasn’t remained quiet in my head. My fingers have been itching to write. But I was stuck. Stuck good.

I’ve been gaming a little less, although now I am visiting more worlds than ever before — truly expanding my horizons! I carved out some time to get back to reading. Voraciously! Then a dragon hunting friend and I got to talking of days of yore…when along came a mage in a red hat. Suddenly I wasn’t stuck anymore. Instead I was falling, falling down a deep dark, fascinating hole filled with possibility. Stay tuned to see what adventures are in store. There will be much writing. And a conflagration of daemons, nasty and naughty. That’s all I can say right now. You’ll just have to trust me and follow me down…

September 10, 2015 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: adventure, blowing the dust off, daemon, dragons, elminster, follow me down, hunting, imagination, Jean-pierre Jeunet, mage, mage red hat, pinkplaymags, rabbit hole, stuck, voracious, WorldPride | 3 Comments

Taking Risks: A Love Letter to Amanda Fucking Palmer

Recently a friend of mine has gone back to school, the daughter of another is happily enrolled in new classes and yet another friend is very seriously pursuing attending college for the upcoming winter semester. All this questing for new knowledge has left me feeling like I’m missing out, nostalgic for the classroom, which is funny because the first time through, I couldn’t wait to be done, outta there and living real life. Well that longing has landed me right in the middle of a trite — but nevertheless important — realization: I AM in school. Right now. The school of life. And I feel like I’ve been flunking this past year.

You see, I’ve been so wrapped up in being stuck on what I’m NOT accomplishing that I’ve been missing all the great stuff I HAVE been accomplishing.

I’ve always been a HUGE fan of Neil Gaiman. Reading his blog has been a comforting ritual I’ve done for a few years now — if I can’t BE accomplishing, then I’m at least going to live vicariously through someone I admire, doing what I wish I was doing. I love his imagination, his outlook on life, his calm, intelligent sense of self and the world around him and his lamppost. I was however a little taken aback when he married Amanda Palmer. It seemed like such a bizarre match for him, even taking into account that opposites attract. I found myself wondering what he was doing marrying a woman 16 years his junior. I found myself wondering if my fave author was going through the classic mid-life crisis. I found myself wondering why it mattered to me. I mean, I’ve always like older guys — you think I’d see this as ridiculous to be preoccupied over. You see, I’ve been stuck in my head a lot and this is just a fraction of the Camptown Races swirling around in my very noisy mind every day.

Lately I’ve been doing EVERYTHING I can to keep myself distracted from making my art. It terrifies me.

In being distracted though, I’ve been learning new things. One of those things has been getting to know the public side of Neil Gaiman’s wife, Amanda Palmer. It began over a year ago reading about her in his various blog posts and eventually I was drawn to reading her own blog. The woman is wild. She is honest — sometimes brutally so. Yet she is kind. Beautiful. Courageous. And she wears her heart on her sleeve. All these things endear me to her and cause me to have such a profound respect for her. And in bravely creating her art in a way few have had the vagina to — and I say this lovingly, referring to what Betty White said about growing a vagina instead of balls because balls are delicate and a vagina can really take a pounding — Amanda is making it work. Really making it work!

And because she is putting herself out there and because she is making it work, she has been attacked over so many things, from the success of her kickstarter campaign, to the request of local musicians to play her concerts for free. More importantly though, she is attracting all these new fans who suddenly adore what she is doing, the risks she is taking and the beautiful art that she is making. New fans like me.

And I find myself wanting to be that brave, wanting to take those big risks, the ones that make you question your sanity every step along the way and the very questions you cannot take the time to answer, because to do so would stop you dead in your tracks. For the rest of your life. You just have to keep flying toward the sun ignoring that your wings are disintegrating because the flight itself is just so fucking beautiful.

I feel like I understand so much now. And yet so very little. I do feel like I have a glimpse into why my favourite author is entranced by this powerful woman. My hungry imagination feels fed, it can’t get enough. My fears are still booming around me, more terrifying than ever before, but I feel compelled to act on them rather than hide from them. I have discovered this quiet little place in my mind where the fear thunders around me, but I am at peace.

So what in the world does this have to do with storytelling?! EVERYTHING!!

Take risks and write. Every day. Take risks and show your writing to other people. Take risks in your writing, with your plot, with your characters — make your characters take risks! Just put yourself out there and make good art.

I ❤ you Amanda Fucking Palmer.

September 28, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: Amanda Fucking Palmer, Amanda Palmer, Betty White, brave, Camptown Races, courage, disintegrating wings, Dresden Doll, fear, flying toward the sun, Icarus, imagination, Kickstarter, make good art, Neil Gaiman, risks, taking risks | Leave a comment

Filling up the Bucket

So I just read one of Ben Nesvig’s most recent posts and I’m feeling a little down. It brings up a really critical point though: “Your mental capacity is not in a fixed state. Creativity is a muscle. Just like any other type of muscle, in order for it to grow stronger, you need to push yourself on a consistent basis. Spurts of 2 weeks of steady writing and one month off are too inconsistent. Whatever isn’t getting better is getting worse.”

Following the ‘creativity’ link, what James Altucher had to say further on the subject, was even a little more depressing: “You need to exercise the idea muscle. It takes about 3-6 months to build up once it atrophies. Trust me on this.”

I trust both of you, Ben and James. In fact I think you are the bluntly honest talk I’ve been needing from a close creative friend. It’s been two years since I’ve been to the gym anywhere close to my regular routine of 3-4 days per week and reading these two posts has reminded me that it’s been 10 months since I’ve done any serious work on my novel. Hence the sadness. My physical and creative selves have atrophied. I really feel like I’ve let myself down.

Two questions immediately come up: Why have I let myself down? How do I get back on track?

Now, I am proud of the struggle I’ve been waging over the last few years to answer the first question of why I seem to be standing in my own way, but I really feel this frustrated sense of the closer I get to unpacking all this baggage, the more there is to sort through. You ever decide to do a monumental spring cleaning and lose your verve halfway through? You say you’ll get back to it, but if you stop now all you’ve succeeded in doing is creating a bigger mess. Well I’m soldiering on regardless of the bigger mess, but I truly feel I need a new tactic, new motivation, new determination. I think it’s time I focus all my energy on answering the second question.

So? How do I get back on track? Setting goals for myself is challenging. I have a hard time plotting out the little steps that keep me from getting frustrated that I cannot realize the big goal immediately. I also know that if I don’t get little rewards along the way I lose motivation. See, all that mess of unpacking has done me some good, I know my personal Achilles heel. The challenge remains how to surmount it.

So what does all this have to do with storytelling?

Quite a bit really. It’s about how to keep exercising your creativity, even when you feel the bucket is empty. One drop might not feel significant, but it’s a start and maybe adding just one more drop is the only next step you have to ~~worry~~ concentrate on. Once you get back in the flow, it’s easy to get caught back up in your creativity without even realizing it.

August 7, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: Ben Nesvig, bucketlist, caught in the flow, Creativity, creativity is a muscle, Gratitude, honest talk, James Altucher, one drop in the bucket | 8 Comments

Lost in Limbo

So. It’s been a while. Four-and-a-half months to be exact that I’ve been lost in Limbo and you along with me. I can’t say I’m surprised — I’m easily distracted and have often felt overwhelmed these last few months. It’s also par for the course for my personal creative projects to suffer derailment just as they start really chugging along. I’ve learned this is due to faltering self-confidence and fear, the two really going hand-in-hand. And while I’m disappointed by this derailment, I’m learning to not be hard on myself, instead taking it in stride and using the downtime to recharge, rather than beat myself up. Easier said than done, but I’m becoming better at accomplishing that with practice.

I’m a collector, especially of creative ideas, stories and images. Stumbling across a new radio station and a photographer whose images blew my mind, I’ve found my imagination quite sparked. Now to let it percolate for a bit and see where it takes me. So far, nudging me to resurrecting my blog has been a great start.

Stay tuned to see where this ever wandering path will continue to take me. I promise not to keep you waiting longer than a week again.

July 17, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: blew my mind, collector, creative ideas, Derailment, distracted, downtime, Limbo, overwhelmed, recharge, sparked imagination, wandering path | Leave a comment

Sucker Punch!

Over the weekend I stumbled across this AWESEOME clip and the first watch, I was just completely blown away by this kid’s talent. Cirque du Soleil should really snap him up. On second watch I couldn’t get the song he performed to out of my head, so I quickly Googled it. Both the original video and the cello performance inspired by it were like a sucker punch to my creativity and as the wind WHOOSHED out of my inner editor, my creativity lunged at the page hungry for expression after being kept on a leash for well over 3 weeks.

It feel good. I wrote for three hours, not once editing what fired out of my fingers. But as I take a break, I’m left wondering why my editor can’t play nice and allow my creativity the room to play before tromping in and fixing it all, strangling the words so it can correct as I go. I don’t enjoy smashing him to pieces like the broken glass in the foreground of the first video, because he’s really good at what he does…just not when he’s doing it at the same time my creativity is trying so hard to manifest.

I know one thing though, because this is usually the way it goes, I will not hesitate to sock the wind from his sails again the next time I need the room to create.

March 3, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: Articles and Reviews, AWOL Nation Sail, cello, Cirque du Soleil, creative, manifest, out of your sails, play nice, POW!, sock the wind, sucker punch, whoosh | Leave a comment

Pitfalls

Again, another ~~two~~ three weeks has zipped by between posts, even after I set myself up to continue the ideas set forth in my last post. One thing I’ve been trying very hard to do, is to start my week off with a BANG! By getting as much work done as I can in the beginning, I hoped I might have a bit more free time at the end of the week to focus on my own projects, like this blog and my own writing and heck, maybe even get back into taking the yoga classes I used to be so fond of.

A funny thing has happened along the way to accomplishing that. Well maybe not funny…I always try to find the humour in life’s pitfalls, but I have to admit that I’m drawing on the dregs of my normally optimistic view of life lately. The cracks in my rose-tinted glasses have been showing for a while and it’s been a challenge to navigate the fractured path I’ve been running down. I’ve never run a marathon physically, but I think I can certainly qualify for running one emotionally and mentally and as any athlete well knows, to stumble is to come face-to-face with your limits, but with proper training that is the threshold you face down with determination and push through to the other side towards victory. To fall though, is to invite disaster. Whether it be the minor pain of scraped knees or a more serious injury that is potentially career ending.

Because I’m fascinated by the saying: “That which does not kill us, makes us stronger.” Why are some of us able to endure an endless obstacle course of pitfalls, where others stumble and falter? Where do some us find the courage and resilience to get back up and keep going where others give up, or break under the pressure. I find this question of inner strength especially intriguing when it comes to the characters in the stories we tell. Let’s face it, most authors LOVE throwing an endless barrage of life-altering challenges at our characters — conflict makes for a compelling story. I readily admit that I have a hard time caring for a protagonist if I don’t get to see him vulnerable, break down and cry, or bleed a little.

However, if I were to look at my current spot where I’ve stumbled and fallen, I’d be saying to the author of my struggle: “Enough! I’ve had enough and I need a break, something positive, some sort of win to buoy me right now.”

I’ve been saying this for a while now. But here’s the thing: I am the author of my own story, right? So it’s up to me to create my own break in the tension, to give myself the much needed respite to reassemble my resources, rest and recharge before sallying forth for yet another battle. And is it not also me that decides whether this is a war to be fought or an adventure to be enjoyed? You bet!

What hero hasn’t gotten to the end of a long arduous quest, only to realize that it was all an elaborate way for them to see they had what it takes to win the day all along, only they were unable to see that strength until after experiencing the whole ordeal of self-discovery.

I guess that’s what makes for an inspiring climax, a triumphant end to a story that keeps us coming back and wanting more.

February 15, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: Hero Quest, Inner Strength, Obstacles, Optimism, Quest, Set Backs, Stronger, That which does not kill us, Triumph | 1 Comment

Endurance

I was originally going to call this post Stamina. Once again I have been plugging away at trying to meet all my deadlines, keep all my goals in sight and face down any setbacks with renewed energy and determination, rather than give in to the frustrating defeat that seems to stalk me.

Each time I prepare a new post I start with the title. Once I have an idea of what I’d like to talk about I Google images that come to mind around my proposed theme. When I typed in my usual synonyms this came up for Endurance. It’s a fascinating and inspiring story of an aptly named ship and her courageous, unwaveringly optimistic captain. (Please ignore Dockers’ clap-trap marketing spin on the whole “The Art of Manliness” because the story is well told regardless).

Leadership aside for the moment (we’ll delve into that in another post), how do you face down an endless stream of defeating challenges and still find the resilience to not only continue on, but buoy your spirits enough to pick yourself back up and push forward with renewed hope and optimism? It’s a talent for sure. Remember my fave quote from an earlier post: “Even if you fall on your face, you’re still moving forward.” Thing is, falling on your face hurts. A lot. And ever since we were kids, we’ve learned not to do things that hurt.

So training ourselves to take these risks and do it again after we fail anyways, ends up feeling a little masochistic. When I was a kid, one of the activities my Mom signed my sister and I up for was figure skating. I loved the spins and fancy turns, the choreography and the year-end pageants (I know, big surprise there — LOL!). But when it came time to do any jumping I was terrified. I had a very clear image in my mind of falling on my head and it cracking open like an egg. Even after this very thing happened to my cousin and all she suffered was a mild concussion with the requisite dizziness, vomiting and over night hospital stay — proving that our heads are a might stronger than fragile eggs — I still couldn’t summon the bravery to risk it. So ended that possible career choice. Just as well, I guess.

Yet, strangely enough, I seem to conjure up the courage to toss myself on my head again and again and again, when it comes to taking chances with my creativity. Why is that?

Perhaps the secret here is finding the tipping balance where passion outweighs any lingering fear (or common sense). I believe we enjoy being challenged. Sure the failures are hard to take, but my god, the pay-off when you are successful is a pretty damn sweet feeling. This reward is what keeps us going, drives us forward toward our goals.

It’s what motivates our characters too. Come back Friday, and I’ll take this train of thought to the next station and examine how testing the endurance of our characters makes for some great storytelling.

January 24, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: Art of Manliness, courageous, damn sweet feeling, defeating challenges, Endurance, endurance of character, Fall on your face, frustrating defeat, leadership, renewed hope and optimism, resilience, setbacks, stamina, taking risks, tipping balance | Leave a comment

SPLAT!

So my first two weeks of 2012 have been less than stellar, but as they say, Rome wasn’t built in a day. Still, it’s hard to have all these ambitious goals, only to feel like a safe has been dropped on your head immediately after heading out on your merry little way to accomplish them. Am I aiming too high with my expectations? Perhaps. But I need to feel excited about what I’m setting out to do, it keeps me motivated. My challenge I’ve discovered, is not my desire to attain my goals, it’s in my follow through.

So keeping all my hang-ups in mind, something struck me when I was reading an old article (don’t ask me why I still had such an old issue kicking around–clearly my reading pile needs to be gone through). In it, Horror writer, Lee Thomas, was joking that he has more daddy issues than an Atlantic City stripper, but if he went into them too deeply he could probably just diffuse them, which would end up being bad for his work, so instead he just accepts them for what they are. Maybe I’m getting too hung up on my own issues and should just let them be, rather than trying resolve them? Perhaps the obstacles I create are good for me?

Obstacles are what shape us into who we are becoming — every writer knows this. Without obstacles, there is no conflict and without conflict there is no story. So in order for the story to be good, there has to be safes dropping on our heads and cliffs that are too high and utter failure, because that’s how we learn how to do it better next time. I think my big problem is not the too high expectations, I think it’s my utter dislike of failure. I’d honestly rather not do it at all than risk failure, but then I end up fermenting in my frustrating lack of growth. See the vicious circle I love to trap myself in?

I think Henry Ford really knew what he was talking about, but too many of his quotes apply here, so I think I’ll sum up my failed week with my current favourite quote from an unlikley source: “Even if you fall on your face, you’re still moving forward.” And really, it’s not how you get to your goal, merely that you finally get to it in the end. Right?

January 13, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: Conflict, Fall on your face, Follow Through, Henry Ford, Lee Thomas, Obstacles, Splat | 2 Comments

New Beginnings

2011 was a tough year for me. Looking back on it from my rearview mirror as I speed away, I’m glad it’s over. What started off way back in optimistic January as a work day equally shared between time spent on my novel and time spent looking for gainful employment, slowly eroded into me juggling so many fill-in-the-gap-jobs that by October my two hours of morning writing on my novel were completely swallowed up by my game of survival — something had to give and I’m sad to say it was my own creative project, once again. Things got so busy in fact, I let my newest venture, this blog, lapse as well.

Admitting this both infuriates me and depresses me. A friend of mine, who I’ve always seen as very successful — hell, he even married his sexy boyfriend this past year — admitted that 2011 was a very tough year for him as well. He seemed to take his challenges in stride though, and dubbed 2011 not only his toughest year, but also the year that taught him the most about himself and through which he learned the most lessons. Well here it is, the end of the first week of the New Year and I’m still trying to figure out how the hell 2011 has benefited me.

The first image that popped into my head is that I feel like Heracles. Never once during 2011 did I succumbed to feeling like Sisyphus. In Greek mythology, Heracles was most famous for the Twelve “Impossible” Labours he was given to complete. Sisyphus, on the other hand was punished by the Gods for believing himself smarter than the immortals and forced to roll a huge boulder up a steep hill. Before he could reach the top, however, the massive stone would always roll back down, forcing him to begin again.

There are certainly days where I feel trapped in an eternity of useless efforts and unending frustration, especially when it comes to finishing and publishing my novel. I’ve been working on some draft form of it or another for over a decade. And yet, each time I’m pushed to the brink of giving up, I rally my strength — what Heracles was noted for — and press on despite the huge boulders rolling my way.

So, what has 2011 taught me? The most notable thing is how hard a worker I am. I’ve always chastised myself with thoughts of being lazy and unproductive, but after the sheer amount of job juggling I did last year, while still managing to meet all my deadlines and squeeze in some personal creativity, I will never buy into those negative thoughts again.

I know without a doubt, deep in my soul, that stories are my passion, my life blood, one of my true loves. I am inspired by the stories told by others, I collect them from everyone I listen to and I continue to strive to see my own shared with an audience of readers.

And finally, the hardest lesson I’ve learned, is how to ask for help from those close to me. Like Heracles I’ve always been determined to go it alone, confident in my personal strength, but even the great god of strength needed help in his Twelve Labours, whereas Sisyphus’ hubris rewarded him an eternity of fruitless work and everlasting defeat.

This early in the New Year, self-doubt still lingers and the scars from last year’s battles still ache, but I hold onto the lion’s share of my passion and continue to push forward.

January 6, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: Greek mythology, Heracles, Labours of Hercules, New Year, Sisyphus | Leave a comment

Masks

I’m currently in the middle of working on our winter issue of PinkPlayMags. This issue’s theme is Burlesque and a really interesting sub-textual topic has come up in a number of the articles: The Masks We Wear.

My sister‘s instalment this issue in her column is called just that. As I was reading it through and editing, it struck a number of personal chords on insights I’ve been experiencing of late. (Sorry, no spoilers, you’ll have to wait until the issue comes out! I’ll do a follow-up post where I speak directly about her article. I know, such a tease, eh? But isn’t that was good burlesque is all about?)

Doing a quick google for images on masks I was struck by something very intersesting: most of the images of women in masks were elegant, beautiful and mysterious in a seductive way; conversely, those of men in masks were all horrorific or of the lucha libre sort, with the odd super-hero thrown in for good measure. I took from these images that women seem to use their masks to tease and entice, whereas men use them as a warning or armour to protect themselves from prying eyes.

Well all this has me thinking. When you are writing characters, you are typically stripping away these masks so that your reader has a chance to see what really lies at the core of the people in your stories. However, they must remain in place amongst these same characters in order for them to maintain their relationships in said story. Tearing them off for all to see, often becomes a pivotal moment of character transformation, forever altering — sometimes outright destroying — their evolutionary path in the story.

Fantastic examples that spring to mind are:

Jean Grey‘s Phoenix persona: was it just her repressed passions, or her dark side made manifest?

The knights’ elaborate, mask-like helmets in the John Boorman film, Excalibur, showed the personae of the wearers.

In Twilight, Rosalie Cullen, though she acts cold to Bella at first, reveals that she actually envies Bella and is sad on the inside because of her inability to get pregnant.

Everyone of any importance on Babylon 5, as summed up by G’Kar’s word of warning to Catharine Sakai: “No one here is exactly what he appears. Not Mollari, not Delenn, not Sinclair… and not me.” I thoroughly enjoyed Babylon 5 because of the intricate masks all the characters wore — it was like they had one for every significant relationship in the series.

In Avatar The Last Airbender, Prince Zuko, is introduced as a ruthless, conceited bully who cares only about himself and looks down on everyone, when in reality, he’s just a kid who wants his father to be proud of him. His sister, Princess Azula, pretends to be a secure, strong, cold woman, but it’s revealed that she’s horribly lonely and desperate for her dead mother’s approval.

So like the masks themselves, this whole idea of hiding yourself while continually seeking to discover what’s behind the masks of others, ends up being an irresistibly delicious conflict and why they make for such compelling stories.

And yet, my personal struggle continues to be one where I long to strip off all my masks so I can just be accepted for who I am, but beyond the terror of exposing myself so completely, I think my greatest fear lies in the fact that I’m unsure who I am without them: am I merely the sum total of all my personal masks waiting to be collectively assimilated, or am I something beyond all that?

Makes for an intriguing story, doesn’t it?

Broken Mask by Bas Hessels

November 18, 2011 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: Avatar The Last Airbender, Delenn, Excalibur, Jean Grey, John Boorman, Mask | Leave a comment

Remembering

Without stories, how would we remember anything? Before stories were written down, every single culture in the world kept memory alive through oral tradition, telling stories around the fire at night. Two of the most vital and primal things in our lives have always been: the warmth of a fire and our need to tell the stories that matter to us.

Stories entertain, they make us laugh, sometimes cry, but most of all a good story teaches us something. Even if it’s a very simple tale, like a conversation between two people, we always walk away having learned something, at least about the person we’ve been talking to, if not about ourselves.

I remember hearing stories about the War from my Grandparents. Grandpa stayed home to work on the family farm, feeding the troops. Grandma was in the Women’s Land Army. It was a tough time, but I always recall how proudly they both spoke of their involvement. One of my favourite stories comes from that era. You see, my Grandparents were brought together by the war. Grandma used to cycle past Home Farm, where my Grandfather grew up, every day to and from her job during the war. His eye, caught by the pretty young woman on the bike, Grandpa started waiting for her to pass as he worked in the fields. Romance sparked and the rest is our family story.

Both my grandparents survived the war, as did my father’s father, who was in the Navy. But many, many loved ones were lost so that we could enjoy the freedoms we now take for granted. So today’s story is their’s. One of bravery, courage in the face so much horror, pride and a fierce determination to provide a better world for their children to live in. If we pay attention to these important stories, then it’s less easy for us to get lost along the way and make the same mistakes that cause others to lay down their lives to protect us against the tragedy of war.

So today, I am remembering, lest we forget.

(I just learned that Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, who wrote “In Flanders Fields” was from Guelph, which is where most of my relatives live. A local boy…)

November 11, 2011 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

A Good Read

So I had a wonderful time being loaned out as a book at the Toronto Ref Library on Saturday, as part of their Human Library.

My first borrower was an elderly lady by the name of Joan. Joan and I pass each other every Monday morning as I’m leaving my therapist’s office and she’s waiting outside for her turn. I have no idea what’s drawn me to her, but I always thought she was sweet and figured since we see each other once a week, every week for ages now, I should smile and say HI. She’s always complimented me on how warm my smile is and my heart always feels a little warmer as I thank her for reflecting my smile back at me. A great way to start a Monday, if you ask me. I’d been thinking of asking Joan for coffee or tea sometime, just to get to know her a little better, when she read my mind and asked me first, just last week. I immediately thought of suggesting she take me out on loan from the library, as it would be a wonderful opportunity for us to get to know each other. Turns out it was. It was an enjoyable first chapter for us both and we’ve decided to make a habit of spending an afternoon together in the future over a warm beverage, so we can trade stories.

I only had one other person take me out on loan, but both my sessions ran close to an hour — double the allotted time. Elaine and I had a deep conversation about telling our stories and fighting — and losing — the protracted battle for a happy ending in the wake of a tragedy. It was a tough conversation. I like to be able to help, especially if I am out of my depth and with no answers. I was able to walk away though, empowered by the support I was able to offer. Elaine is such a font of valuable and wise information — I hope she finds the strength to let her lost battle be the key to someone else’s win against the war on compassionate medical care for the elderly and disabled. It’s too easy for the doctors and hospitals to sweep aside patient understanding for dismissive “I know what I’m doing.”

While I was sitting on the “shelf” with the other books I had a wicked time chatting with my fellows up for being borrowed:

Lyndsay: You are truly inspiring to have defied death at such a young age and with such a wonderful sense of humour about it all; I’m serious about being your ghost writer if you ever want to tell your story.

Beth: Keep up the wonderful work — independent presses are what keep our reading experiences rich.

Andrea: It was so nice to grab some face time with you finally — thanks for the crash course in Twitter 101!

Vani: You were an über popular book and I’m disappointed we didn’t get more shelf time; I made the jump to Twitter, so look me up and we can share the experience as newbies.

Nick: Your bravery and ability to remain open-minded in the face of potential oppressors is awesome! Don’t ever let narrow minded fear or intimidation stand in your way of the good work you’re doing.

Shawn: Never got to flip pages with you, but I aspire to be as plugged in to urban culture as you seem to be.

Catherine: It was great to connect over telling great stories, no matter the drudgery of transcription woes.

Chris: You are an unsung hero standing up for one of the city’s most undervalued infrastructures — without the TTC, where would Toronto be?

Donovan: Truly a pleasure to meet such an accomplished and easy-going writer, such as yourself; I look forward to running into you again.

Finally a HUGE thank you to Ab, Ken and most of all Anne Marie for organizing such a phenomenal event. I am so first in line for being on regular loan if you ever establish a permanent collection. Just one of the reasons libraries are vital to cities and the people in them.

…I’m really looking forward to being a borrower next year.

November 7, 2011 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Human Libary

(The Pilobolus Human Alphabet photographed by John Kane)

omorrow I am going to be a Human Book!

I’m pretty excited about this. Last Saturday all the human books in Toronto had their orientation and I have to say, we’re a pretty interesting collection! What is a human book you may be asking yourself? Simply, a human book is a person with an unique story, often one that will give you insight into something you do not know about, or may have misconstrued preconceptions about, which the human book will gently break the myths around. It’s a learning experience and a one-on-one chance to have questions you may have always had answered, or to learn something new form someone cool. You can go and check out the full deal here, or read the article I wrote about it here in our most recent issue of autumnplay!

So, swing on by the branch closest to you (Downtown = Toronto Ref; North = North York; East = Cedarbrae; West = Richview) and take one of us out on loan for half-an-hour. Chat with us and walk away with a new experience, wiser for having connected and read.

I know we’re all very excited to see what interesting people will check us out!

Looking forward to meeting you.

November 4, 2011 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Time

This post is in honour of Halloween, or All Hallow’s Eve, or Samhain. As all the kids, both young and old, scuttle about getting ready for ghoulish dress-up and trick-or-treating, I’m reminded of how my life has become rather chaotic of late. That’s saying something, as I’ve become rather good at multi-tasking my little heart out on a myriad of projects, while I seek to continue to pay the bills primarily with my writing, but endeavour at the same time to keep my own writing projects — namely my novel — from constantly being sidelined. I’m much better at time management than I used to be, but I will freely admit that it’s an ongoing struggle for me to consistently make the best use of the time allotted to me in a day. If I could forgo sleep, I would; however, I’m kinda beastly if I don’t get at least 7 hours of beauty rest.

My original goal with this site has been to post at least once a week. With that in mind I purposely saved Friday’s post for Saturday, so I could share how my orientation as a human book at the Toronto Public Library went. Well, my weekend ran away from me and now that post is being saved for this Friday. So, stay tuned for that.

But back to time and how fleeting it is. I find that all the clichés about time are horrendously true, especially these two: “time flies when you are having fun” and “the older you get the faster time goes by.” Why is that? If you read this fascinating article on it, then you know it has to do with the senses and how deeply they are invoked and thus how densely the memoires of these moments are recorded in our brains. We tend to remember our firsts: first kisses, first impressions of people, first trips to new places; and our lasts: graduations, final goodbyes, last kisses. We remember these moments vividly, almost in slow motion. They are what we write about in our stories because these are the most important times of our lives, or our characters’ lives, because they are so charged with sensory emotion. It’s these powerful place-holders in our minds that good stories are built around. Everything in between just tends to get lost in the stream of moment-to-moment. And yet, it’s so easy to get caught up in our daily routine that if feels like life just goes by us in a blur, save for these moments in time that mean something. It takes a certain skill to be able to hold onto those memorable moments as they happen, and to appreciate them and enjoy them before the daily roller-coaster of life WHOOSHES by us again.

So I suppose it’s no surprise that this holiday, as lost as it is amidst the commercialism and candy, is such an important time of year, because it’s all about time. The winding down of it, the dying off of the year from autumn into winter, and when you are faced with the end of time, you are frantic to grab hold of one last moment before it’s all gone. Moments like these are rich for reflection. One of the ancient rituals of the Celtic celebration of Samhain involves the cleansing of ritual fire. People would celebrate the year’s harvest with huge bonfires and into these conflagrations they would toss slips of paper, upon which were written things they’d been carrying with them all year. Things that they’d like to be rid of. Perhaps failed goals, or an old love that still haunted them, or worries about health, finances and family. Tossing these worries into the fire cleansed them and prepared them like the fields that now lay fallow, to be fresh and ready for new experiences to come the following spring.

So as the creatures of the night are out celebrating and gathering as many treats as they can fit into a pillowcase or plastic pumpkin, I’m going to light a candle, slow down time, and revel in the rich memories of this past year. Then I will cast off the failures of 2011 into the fire, so that I may ready myself for a winter of gestating the goals I want to realize in the spring of the coming year.

Happy Hallow’s Eve!

October 31, 2011 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Characters

Every good story needs characters. Ones we can identify with, who often represent we the reader in some way. The story of our lives shape us into the characters we become. I was always a sensitive, daydreaming, pacifist kid: “I’m a writer and a dreamer, not a fighter.” Which, of course , made me the delightful target of every and any bully who ever scented my timid easy-going nature. School, for the most part was utter hell, especially high school, where I was marked out as the sole fag — a powerful word I soon came to understand the meaning of.

It breaks my heart to see the kids taking their lives these days to this same bullying that ground me down day-after-day. My parents were powerless to do anything about it, partly due to me not wanting to worsen my teen fate with a bail out from Mommy and Daddy, but mostly due to a completely broken school system running by Darwin’s Laws and not the Laws of Compassion, Understanding and Support for those who needed it most.

Take heart though, this is not a story about bullies. Although they make for great villains, that is a post for another day. I’ve been taking my power back from them for decades now. This is MY story and they are NOT my editor, so they cannot tell me how to write MY story — I do not give them that power. This is the story of characters, the tests, or quests, or obstacles set before our protagonists that build the stamina of character they need to go on to do great things.

I think one of the most powerful tools for building good characters, no matter how tragic they are destined to be, is to find the humour. A giggly girl by the name of Erica was one of a team of friends who saved my life and my sanity during the hell of small town high school. There were never tears because by god that would be letting the bullies win, but there was an abundance of laughter and that’s what got all of us through that very “educational” — in a character building way — time in our lives.

I just had a reunion with Erica and she is still her giggly self. It’s been 23 years since I last saw her, but that moment in time of her and I having one of our — to me — life saving laughs by the lockers upstairs is locked in the vault of my memory. And you know, seeing her made me realize that while it still sometimes feels like the horrible moments outnumbered the good moments, the good moments were much more powerful. If you’ve ever seen a sword forged, it gets subjected to white-hot furnace heat again and again, then pounded into shape by a hammer, but it’s the cool water bath after that tempers the forging. Water has always represented the emotions, and laughter (alongside love) is the most powerful of emotions. I have been tempered by a lot of good people over the years, responsible in the forging of my character. I’ve been very lucky in that respect.

I’ve always been fond of saying, “I need to see my hero bleed, before I can really care about him.” But I want to add to that statement: “I need to experience his sense of humour, to know he’s capable of surviving the shit being thrown at him.” I believe good characters make a story important — memorable — to me, and to many people. And the forging of them draw us in and keep us coming back for more.

October 21, 2011 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Guilty!

I have a very bad habit of over-editing my work. My Inner Editor is constantly getting in the way of my creative muse and often very difficult to shut off. That is the main reason it’s taken me so long to get this website live.

I originally had the intention of keeping the site simple, but the moment I discovered the theme for my blog posts — The Power of Stories — I suddenly realized I had more to say than I thought. My whole life is influenced by stories and how they are told, the power they have over our imaginations and the way they influence every moment of our lives.

But, being the perfectionist my Inner Editor is, I’ve gone over and over and over my prior posts, originally determined to ensure there are no embarrassing typos, but instead getting distracted on updating and expanding on the ideas in my posts, re-writing them to be more clever, more meaningful, more succinct. Well, I had to put my foot down and make it stop. Over the last week I’ve told several people to expect the launch of my new website. They were at first patient, but then a few stopped tapping their foot politely and asked me, “What the fuck? Are you doing it or not?!”

Yes, I am. One more week, I promise. And this time I mean it. No more over-editing, although I think I’m going to have a hard time not going back to at least tweak a few things–all in the guise of checking for typos.

October 14, 2011 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Grammar

Language is a powerful thing. Take for instance the diminutive apostrophe. Used incorrectly it can turn a business that knows its shit, into a business that knows it’s shit. Such a confidence crusher that one little mistake, and one that spell check will never save you from.

This week I stumbled across a grand debate, which has been ongoing for a while now, about the Oxford Comma. Also called a Serial or Harvard Comma, it is the optional comma used before the final “and” when writing lists. I’ve never been a big fan of using it. I’ve no idea why I’ve never been a big fan, I guess it just seemed superfluous, cluttered up the sentence, added in an extra pause that could better be used elsewhere. As a proud Canadian I use the British rule when questions of grammar come up (although I have been known to cheat on occasion).

Then, after seeing this cartoon, it got me thinking.

While I consider myself a careful writer, I do have a bad habit of leaving part of my edited storytelling inside my head, so what is obvious to me, may not always be so obvious to my readers, especially those I don’t know and who don’t know me very well. And while I would get a real kick out someone adding a whole new level to my story because of something as minor as a comma that I’ve chosen not to use, I guess the question really becomes a matter of whether I should add that little something extra in, so that the true meaning of my story can be preserved.

Personally, if I’d wanted JFK and Stalin to be strippers I’d have emphasized the titillating fact by using a colon in place of the comma, thusly:

We invited the strippers: JFK and Stalin.

I think it’s more punchy that way, but then I suppose that’s a different grammatical debate for another day.

September 16, 2011 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Snakes & Lattes

I have just discovered the best place in all the world! It’s like every Christmas morning I’ve ever had all wrapped up into one. AND it’s right here in my very own back yard. Now that’s exciting! Where is this Xanadu you ask?

Located at 600 Bloor Street West, a mere 2 blocks away from the Bathurst Subway station, it’s innovation at its finest. At first glance it seems an unassuming cafe, and let me tell you, the coffee, sandwiches and home made quiche are well worth the visit, but that is merely the icing on a very delicious confection. You see, lining the shelves of one wall, which runs the entire length of the quaint little place, are board games — 2,000 of them!! You heard me right: 2,000 board games. I’m not sure if I’ve ever told anyone how much I love board games. Well, I ADORE them! I think “Gamer” is the nom de geek I am most aligned with deep in my soul. I’ve always been a lover of adventure, but let’s face it, adventure is BORING if you haven’t got a few trusty companions along the way to help you enjoy all the new experiences. And board games are the quick n’ easy way to hook up with a handful of friends and go on an adventure together. It’s like a Choose Your Own Adventure book, where you get to be the character making your own decisions instead of following along someone else’s pre-scripted choices.

You don’t have to be a nerd to like playing them, even though it’s cutting edge cool to be a nerd or a geek these days. Although, some of my favorites are especially loved by the geek crowd — especially the dungeon crawls! I do loves me a crawl through dank corridors laid out on cardboard tiles in search of a dragon to kill and treasure to loot.

Honestly though, I defy you to be unable to find one you enjoy playing, or even better, a cherished game from childhood that you fondly remember playing for HOURS on end growing up. For me, my sister and my cousins it was Clue and I always played Col. Mustard. Don’t ask me why, I’ve never liked the colour yellow…must have been the monocle. There is a whole section dedicated to Trivial Pursuit, with editions I never knew existed. (I’ve put a moratorium on this game with my friends as play time takes our entire afternoon and I want to play games I’ve never played before–I mean come on! There are 1,950 I have yet to play!). There are strategy games for the hardcore players, card games, games from around the world, indie published games by small studios and even a section for kids.

Yep, the cafe prides itself on being welcoming to kids and families as well as nerds and non-nerds of all flavours. It’s also licensed upstairs (booze and board games has always been a fave combination of mine) and they take reservations. How could it possibly get any better? But wait, there’s more! Happily working each day is someone I call a Game Master. These friendly people wander around with the lion’s share of knowledge on how to play a good chunk of games on the premises. Bored of the same-old-same-old? Can’t decide what to play or feeling overwhelmed at the vast choices? Ask a Game Master for a suggestion and they will sit down with you and in 10 minutes or less explain to you the basic rules of the new adventure you are about to embark on and then leave you to play on your merry way. And as an extra bonus? They sell most of the games cheaper than anywhere else in the city, and if they don’t have the one you want, they can order it in for you if it’s still in print.

There is a $5 cover/person to sit and play, but that allows you to stay until they close at 2am — that’s a hell of a lot of bang for your buck! Movies are at most 3 hours long, the food is not nearly as yummy, you can’t interact with your friends and it’s three times the price. There is one minor downside (a-ha! you say; I knew it!). Even with the extra tables downstairs (where, unfortunately, the liquor license is not applicable), the place is not that huge and is always busy. Fear not though brave adventurers! S&L has purchased the store next door and will be knocking out the wall and expanding in the near future for more gaming fun. It’s wonderful to see such creative ideas flourish!

Seriously, what more could you possibly want in an afternoon or evening out than capital F-U-N?

September 14, 2011 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Words

This is awesome (I apologize for the horrible quality — I had no idea the original was this old!). I’ve posted the lyrics below so you can sing along as you jam to the rhythm. Reminds me so much of these after school specials.