Moose Fights for the Win!

August 17th, 2018Posted by Nancy

Wednesday night’s Mortified Reading event for ChiSeries was a smashing success, with most of the audience wiping their eyes to keep from crying (with laughter! with laughter!) as Madeline Ashby, Don Bassingthwaite, Kari Maaren, Sandra Kasturi, Brett Savory, Elaine Chen, Stephen Michell, David NickleGemma Files, Troy Harkin and I shared some of our best juvenile work with the crowd.

In the spirit of contined sharing, below you will find two excerpts from one of my fine works from 1967 (when I was 8 and using a nom-de-plume).  Get ready for ….. RAJAH.  No corrections to spelling or punctuation have been made (except for two paragraph breaks because otherwise it would make your head hurt).

 

The rumbling echoed through the mountain side as the circus train traveled through the Canadian Rockies. Inside Rajah, the male leopard paced in his cage. He hated confinement even though he had never been free. All he knew was that he wanted to be free, to fly like the birds he had so often watched his heart filling with jealousy. A restlessness had been haunting him ever since he had glimpsed the forests. Day by day this strange urge had been growing and now it was becoming overpowering. He snarled at the keeper as he passed. He lay down only to rise again and pace the cage. Animals often have a sixth sense and all the animals were moving restlessly about their cages. Rajah’s sense was tingling too. Suddenly the train turned a sharp corner sending Rajah’s cage sliding down the car. Simba, the clown lion covered his face with his paws. Then it steadied again. An audible sigh of relief came up from the animals. Drowsily Rajah lay down panting. Then he rolled back and went to sleep.

Out in the mountains a female cougar named Seena watched the train wind around the mountain. She stood on a ridge her slim form silluhouted against the moon. Then a male cougar approached her. Seena turned and licked his face. He looked down at the dissapearing train. Together they bounded down the hill, across the tracks and vanished into the forest. The train lurched along the track, making it impossible for Rajah to sleep so he settled for dozing at intervals. The minutes dragged into hours, the hours into days and still the train went on. Seena and the male kept tabs on it because unknown to the male Seena had detected the faint smell of cat.

As the train rounded a corner the engine conked out. The train swerved and crashed into the cliff. Immediately the air was filled with the sounds of terrorfied animals. The keepers ran from cage to cage releasing animals. Rajah had been hit on the head by a steel bar,stunning him. He staggered out the fresh air reviving him. This was his chance! His long awaited chance! With a quick glance at the frightened animals huddling together he bounded off up the slope.

******* we now move on to later in the story and meet more cougars *******

“Well lets go have a drink then we can go watch the bull moose fighting. Its Spring and there’s bound to be some action,” suggested Zelda.

“I haven’t since a good moose fight since last spring and I could stand a drink” answered Chanta thoughtfully. They started out across the clearing and when they had disappeared Rajah set off after them. He followed them to a small spring bubbling, cascading out of a rock in a miniture waterfall and pouring down hill in tiny rapids until it flowed into a larger stream. They drank a bit and sat together until they heard the clashing of horns. “Come on,” said Chanta,” lets get ringside seats.” After they had gone Rajah dashed out and gulped down a quick drink from the sparkling stream and went off the in the direction of the sounds. He saw Zelda and Chanta sitting together entirely unoticed by the combatents in the clearing. He snuk around to the other side of the clearing and watched the fight. A female moose or cow stood at the edge of the clearing and watched the fight delightedly. You see they were fighting over her. She wasn’t particularly pretty, ugly in fact but in the eyes of the fighters she was heavenly. The bull moose is a majestic animal with antlers sometimes reaching up to 6 feet from tip to tip. The two old scarred males stood facing each other in the clearing. The earth shook as they thundered down at each other. There was an ear-pilting crash as the giants antlers met and locked together. Then began a general pushing match each trying to push the other back. Rajah decided he had seen enough.

 

I packed it all in:  train crashes, weird romance, moose fights, hinterland who’s who information, a chase scene, a fight with hunting dogs, and more weird romance. I’m glad I saved it.

 

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A bit of Mortification for fun

August 8th, 2018Posted by Nancy

Last year, the good folks at the ChiSeries readings decided to banish the August doldrums by having local writers read from some of their earliest attempts at fiction.  The laughter was so loud that everyone promptly agreed that we needed another evening of writer humiliation in 2018 and it’s almost upon us.

Mark your calendars for August 15, 8:00 at the Round Venue in Toronto in order to hear selections from the horrifying stories hidden away in the depths of filing cabinets.  In my case, it’s an epic tale of escape, love, death and moose fights that I wrote in Grade 3.  Trust me, you do not want to miss this.

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Questions, questions, questions

July 24th, 2018Posted by Nancy

Now that I’m officially sort of retired, and I’ve travelled, and I’ve caught up on X,Y and Z, it’s time to get back to writing, which I sadly neglected during my “hey, let’s work two jobs” period.

In order to get back up to speed (and to procrastinate, let’s be honest), I’ve been going through all my notes, adding the ones I’ve scratched on random pieces of paper, and trying to reimmerse myself in the world of the novel. Such as it is…. and that’s the rub.

A depressing number of my notes are really questions.  Here is a brief example:

  • Is there a Patron saint of magic? Archangel figure? “Magi” function as “saints” – ask them to intercede before you call on the big guns
  • Is there a devil figure? What other figure of evil could there be? Is this considered a controversy in the religion, i.e. established religion does not consider devil powerful but older versions do?
  • Common people view magic differently vs. how it REALLY works. Much more accepted as part of life, though mostly good for crops and dubious love spells (hedge witches).
  • Is there a Christ figure? Perhaps seen as the greatest magician, able to commune directly with God (who may or may not be his father)
  • True magical ability must be rare, though there are hedge witches/fortunetellers/wise women around. Perhaps these are required to be approved by the magic hierarchy – inspected to determine power then certified to carry out only certain activities.

Note the daunting number of question marks.  I certainly do.  This is part of what contributed to the long delay in completing my last novel (Cold Hillside, of course).  I have lots of ideas and then get caught in a tangle of choice paralysis, where any decision seems as if it will close off any other options and WHAT IF I MAKE THE WRONG CHOICE?!

But I suppose that if I will insist on writing fantasy novels when my worldbuilding skills are somewhat limited (to be charitable), then this will always be my struggle. Anyone who’d like to pass along a fully-realized world that’s a bit like 17th century France and a bit not at all like 17th century France, feel free to get in touch.

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Fear of Flying

July 14th, 2018Posted by Nancy

Just signed off on the proofs for the reprint of my story “Consent” for the new anthology Fright into Flight.  I’m very happy that this story will have a new life and share space with such incredible writers as Gemma Files and Nadia Bulkin.  You can preorder your copy at the link.

Here’s my intro to the story for the Discovering Japan short story collection.

The original idea for this grew out of the controversy surrounding the publication of American Psycho. While I’m not in favour of censorship, there were elements of horror fiction with which I was never very comfortable. The writers of the time were predominantly male though women were beginning to become a more important force in the genre. Many of the anthologies I was reading featured a steady stream of stories written by men about the murder of women. In many cases, the stories were from the point of the view of the killers, who had no trouble justifying their actions. I could never quite escape the awareness of my own vulnerability, both in the real world and in the universe these stories inhabited. I found myself profoundly ambivalent about the issues surrounding depictions of violence – and I still am.

 The story never quite hung together until I found out about the upcoming Horror Writers Association anthology called Deathport, which was about a haunted airport. Then it just clicked. They accepted the story but I never felt it fit in very well with the rest of the stories in that anthology and I’m happy to have another chance to present it to the world. Sadly, the issues I was trying to deal with don’t seem to have gone away.

 

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Music following words

June 10th, 2018Posted by Nancy

After reading Tracey Thorn’s memoir, Bedsit Disco Queen, I went in search of some of her new music and found her 2018 release, Record.  One listen to the song “Sister” and I was hooked. The rest of the album is just as good and includes songs about babies (Cos I didnt want my babies/until I wanted babies/and when I wanted babies/nothing else would do but babies), breaking up in the digital age (Is that me or Freud talking/or me and the wine?/I shouldn’t be clicking/on your new valentine),  the past (Where did we begin/back in the days we lived/inside each other’s skin), and MeToo (Oh what year is it/Still arguing the same old shit).   This is going to be in heavy rotation.  May we all have the courage to fight like girls.

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Words and Music

May 18th, 2018Posted by Nancy

By sheer coincidence, I’ve read three books by musicians in the last month. I can recommend all of them.

First up, Clothes, Music, Boys by Viv Albertine of the seminal punk band The Slits. This is a wry, raw, funny, and honest look at clothes (she provides a list of what she wore), music (wanting to make it, learning to make it, finding reasons to make it again), and boys (a who’s who of early punk that she played with, hung with, slept with, lived with, lost).

Next, Bedsit Disco Queen by Tracey Thorn of the post-punk band Everything but the Girl. She too is honest, witty, and self-deprecating, providing a glimpse into the grind to the top, the moment of unreal luxury at the peak, and the choices that change your life.

I loved both of these women and could completely relate to their desire to be musicians, to write songs, to be the one in the band (not the girlfriend of the one in the band). Though their lives were in many ways quite different (Thorn married her university sweetheart and writing partner, Albertine’s personal life was much less stable), they still end up in a place that many women recognize: dealing with loss, illness, children, and trying to find yourself again. They both did it, through music and prose.


And now for something completely different: Beautiful Scars by Tom Wilson. I’ve seen this shaggy-haired, gravel-voiced singer at numerous concerts by The Art of Time Ensemble. He shambles out, usually with a fur hat perched on his mane of dark hair, says “Andrew told me not to talk” and then proceeds to tells an amusing tale before launching into his song. (His rendition of Who by Fire by Leonard Cohen was amazing.) This autobiography is not only about his musical career but also his childhood and youth on the rough side of Hamilton, his battle with addiction, and – at its heart – the discovery about the truth of his family and origin.

Read them all.

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Upcoming Convention Appearance

May 5th, 2018Posted by Nancy

It’s been a while.  Our dance recital coincided with an ice storm but despite that we had a full audience and I only turned left instead of right once, so I considered that a success. If I come across a decent picture, I may just post it.

I’m happy to be returning to the Limestone Genre Expo in Kingston, Ontario the weekend of May 26/27.  It’s a lovely con that gets better each year while maintaining a great, intimate feel.  If you’re interested in sf, fantasy, horror, mystery or romance (or the intersections between them), it’s a wonderful way to meet local authors and publishers, take part in practical workshops, and enjoy the beauty of Kingston’s architecture and waterfront (and restaurants).

I’ll be taking part in three panels covering everything from Fairy Tales, horror for beginners, and women in Science Fiction. Hope to see you there.

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My dance debut

March 30th, 2018Posted by Nancy

 

It is almost upon me and I alternate between thinking “ok, I can do this” and “what on earth was I thinking?” It’s amazing how long two minutes can feel. My group is performing three pieces and I’m doing two dramatic bits: exhorting Spartan soldiers to battle and performing part of the opening monologue from Medea. I’m not worried about those, because I’ve had some practice at that sort of thing.

So in case you’re in Toronto on April 14th and have the urge to see a flamenco dance show (don’t worry, there are people who can actually dance quite well performing), you can get tickets here.

For a bit of inspiration, here’s a beautiful video from the 2018 Jerez Flamenco Festival.

https://www.facebook.com/FestivalDeJerez/videos/1837243612974892/

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I’m only drowning…

March 3rd, 2018Posted by Nancy

Sadly, my goal to start as I meant to go on fell apart under the pressure of adding another job, an upcoming flamenco performance, and dental stuff to my schedule. On the other hand,I bought a fabulous coat from Annie Thompson and I can now pay for it.

 

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I’m only reading….

January 29th, 2018Posted by Nancy

I did read a bit last year. Ok, I read a LOT last year, but a good chunk of it was for my duties on the Sunburst Award jury.  Much of that reading was pleasurable (if you need something new, just check out the winners and finalists) but it was still a massive number of words to churn through between January and June.

As for the rest of my reading, the majority is done on my Kobo, with books I borrow from the very fine Toronto Public Library system (the largest neighbourhood-based library system in the world, according to Wikipedia).  I maintain a dislike of actually BUYING books for Kobo, because I fear that technological obsolesence will render them inaccessible, but I did spring for about 20 titles this year.  And I do continue to read actual, physical books on a regular basis.  My estimates for consumption for 2017 are:

Library digital books – 65  (thanks to the handy download folder on my computer)

Purchased digital books – 22

Physical books – 15 to 20

What stands out?

Novellas.  I love the easy availability of these longer works that ebooks allow.  I caught up on some award-nominated works this year and can recommend them all:

Binti – Nnedi Okorafor

The Ballad of Black tom – Victor LaValle

The Sorcerer of the Wildeeps – Kai Ashante Wilson

October – Michael Rowe

The Dream-Quest of Villitt Boe – Kij Johnson

Non-Fiction. I keep vowing to add more of this to my reading. Fortunately, there are no shortage of interesting suggestions from Lapham’s Quarterly and the related podcast The World in Time to keep me busy.

Chernobyl Prayer – Sveltana Alexievich. Heartbreaking, thoughtful, vivid and often poetic eyewitness stories about the 1986 disaster and its impact on the people around it.

Millennium – Ian Mortimer.  A survey of the key social and technological changes of the last 1,000 years

Between the World and Me – Ta-nehisi Coates’ letter to his son about the history and legacy of slavery and racism in the U.S.

The Righteous Mind – Jonathan Heidt. My attempt to understand why people would want to be conservatives.  I’m still not one.

Aloha Wanderwell: The Border-Smashing, Record-Setting Life of the World’s Youngest Explorer – Christian Fink-Jensen.  Aliases, escapes, sex, driving, mysterious deaths – this story has it all. Somebody make a movie of her life.

Novels.  For some reason, my reading this year seemed to bend towards the dark and foreboding.

Aurora – Kim Stanley Robinson.   An often grim look at the unlikeliness of being able to colonize other planets to escape our own mess.

Bright Black Air – David Vann.   This retelling of the story of Jason and Medea is a like an incantation.  Strange, disturbing, and beautiful.

The Carhullan Army – Sarah Hall.   Tough, bloody-minded, dystopic fiction set in the brooding hills of the Lake District.

Lincoln in the Bardo – George Saunders.  Weird, audacious, and compelling. Told by the ghosts who hover around Lincoln as he grieves for his son.

The Water Knife – Paolo Bacigalupi.  Water wars engulf the Western States.

And then I started 2018 with The Traitor Baru Cormorant by Seth Dickinson.

Somebody recommend something more cheerful to me, soon.

 

 

 

 

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