I’m very excited to announce that all my novels (currently out of print) will be issued in new ebook editions in 2024 by Open Road Media. Now I’m in the middle of rights clearances (the process has changed a wee bit from the early 1990s when I sent a fax to the music publishing company) and other housekeeping business.
Dates to come – but I’m beyond thrilled. Open Road has reissued some incredible books recently, including those by my very talented friends Gemma Files and Michael Rowe, and I’m looking forward to working with them.
So far I’m making my target for this year’s National Novel Writing Month, but I admit that target is pretty modest: 5,000 words on the Glass World project. I’m not feeling terribly inspired and am in the “well, I have no idea what’s going on here but might as well have THIS happen” stage.
The Witch Novel is out with the second reader, who has so far come back with two eminently do-able suggestions and one much less manageable one – but we shall see what else emerges.
But there is some good news to come on another front, so stay tuned!
They’ve just published a new featured called “Favorite Reads in 2023”, featuring the selections of almost 900 authors. We were asked to choose our three favorite books from our reading over the last year, with no restrictions on when the book was published (so you’ll find books published this year and some old classics as well). The master list of the Top 100 books is sortable by genre and there’s a great mix of fiction and non-fiction. It was great to recognize some of my favorites (An Immense World by Ed Yong, Matrix by Lauren Goff, The Dawn of Everything by Davids Graeber and Wengrow) and I’ve already added more suggestions to my appallingly long “to read” list.
If you’re wondering what to dive into next, check out the site and these lists – and then read away.
I didn’t keep a close record of cottage reading, but did get through a few books between July and the end of the September. Here are some of my favourites.
FICTION
The Poppy War and The Dragon Republic, R.F. Kuang. I motored through the first two parts of this trilogy and finished the final book in October. Kuang has won a Nebula, has written several NY Times bestselling books, has several degrees, is currently studying at Yale, and is definitely an overachiever (meant in the best way, of course). Based on Chinese history, this series is dark, violent, and vividly written. I was occasionally annoyed at the willful obtuseness of the main character, but she was very young, after all. All three books are long but worth it, with an overall ending that is not happy but satisfying.
The Marigold, Andrew Sullivan. Debut horror novel set in a five-minutes from now Toronto. Anyone who lives here will not be surprised to discover that condo development is a dark art.
Castles in Their Bones, Laura Sebastian. I didn’t realize this was the start of a trilogy but I enjoyed this enough to read the next one. The three daughters of an ambitious queen are raised to marry into the surrounding countries and usurp their thrones – but nothing goes quite as planned.
The Winged Histories, Sofia Samatar. Absolutely bloody brilliant. I loved this book so much. Set in the world of A Stranger in Olondria, the narrative is divided between the voices of four different women – a soldier, a scholar, a poet, and a socialite – involved in a rebellion. Just staggeringly good. Read it.
NON-FICTION
Did I Ever Tell You This? Sam Neill Spurred by a cancer diagnosis, the NZ actor decided to finally write a memoir. My husband listened to the audio book and loved it. I read the book and managed to at least hear some echoes of his voice while reading. It’s funny and kind (mostly) and honest.
The Sun and Her Stars: Salka Viertel and Hitler’s Exiles in the Golden Age of Hollywood, Donna Rifkind. A fascinating look at Viertel, a German actress and writer, who fled the rise of Nazism and settled in Hollywood with her director husband and her family. She worked with Garbo on several pictures but her true gift was as den mother, social butterfly, and advocate for the exiles who washed up in LA and made an unforgettable contribution to cinema. Made a good pairing with the Netflix series TransAtlantic, a fictionalized version of the Emergency Rescue Committee efforts to get artists and intellectuals safely out of France.
Monsters: A Fan’s Dilemma, Claire Dederer and The Success and Failure of Picasso, John Berger. More Glass World project research. The Dederer book on ‘art monsters’ led to the Berger book, which is decades old but still interesting. The first explores the question of whether you can love the art when the artist is a reprehensible human being.
The Fire is Upon Us: James Baldwin, William F. Buckley, and the Debate over Race in America, Nicholas Buccola. I knew the basic outline of the debate and had seen some clips but this was a fascinating deep dive into the lives of both of the men and what led them to that moment. It also includes each speech in full at the end. Now I have to read some more James Baldwin….
Riverman: An American Odyssey, Ben McGrath. Writer McGrath meets Dick Conant, an eccentric canoeist paddling from New York to Florida. He writes an article about him and several months later, receives a call from police to say that Conant’s canoe has been found but there’s no sign of him. McGrath sets out to discover the man who lived on his own terms, made a lasting impression on everyone he met, but could never quite feel at home in the world.
As usual, I dove into the annual cottage getaway with plans for writing, editing, flamenco practice, etc. But the weather was fabulous, the mornings misty, the afternoons glorious, and so I mostly dove into the the lake (ok, I went down the later), went for walks, and read books. Je ne regrette rien.
*once a business manager, always a business manager!
Another period heavy on the non-fiction, so we’ll start with that.
Fire Weather, John Vaillant. Valliant’s previous book, The Tiger, is one of my favorites so I jumped on this one. It’s a vivid and dramatic recounting of the Fort McMurray fire, a science lesson on the nature of forest fires, and a warning about how much worse they’ll be in the future. The summer of 2023 is so far bearing that out.
How to Be An Artist and Art is Life, Jerry Saltz. This is part of a book chain – I read a book recommended somewhere and the author of that book writes about another author, who writes about another author and on and on. Also part of my continuing reading about artists in an attempt to get some traction on my Glass World novel. Saltz is an artist, critic, and writer and his advice in How to can hold true for any creative endeavor.
Son of the Morning Star, Evan S. Connell. Another book chain book – I think both this and the Saltz books originated in a book by Rebecca Solnit, but I’m not 100% sure. This is an older book about Custer and Little Bighorn so some of it sounds a bit … uncomfortable … to modern ears, but it was a fascinating about a battle I knew very little about.
I Used to Be Charming, Eve Babitz and Hollywood’s Eve: Eve Babitz and the Secret History of L.A., Lili Anolik. Babitz was an artist, a writer, hanger-on, muse, lover, and, above all, observer. When she suffered terrible burns in a cigarette incident, her Hollywood friends fundraise to cover her medical bills. Asked why people like Harrison Ford and Steve Martin would support her, she quipped “Blow jobs!” I love the wild world she depicted with a wry and witty style. The Babitz book is a collection of essays so the Anolik is a handy companion, providing more autobiographical details and, perhaps, a bit more honesty about said details. Both are highly recommended.
Nanaimo Girl, Prudence Emery. This made another great companion to the Babitz books. Emery was a Canadian who ended up managing PR for the Savoy Hotel in the 60s, for filmmakers like David Cronenberg, and for numerous bands. I think she and Eve might have enjoyed each other.
FICTION
Middlegame, Seanan McGuire. A wonderful, twisty fantasy that’s quite funny despite the grim turns. The villains are suitably dark and twisted.
The Night Ship, Jess Kidd. A new book by Jess Kidd is always welcome in our house. This one is about a real shipwreck (the Batavia, a Dutch ship lost off the coast of Australia) and the hard life on the coastal islands that are its graveyard. Beautifully written, of course.
The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches, Sangu Mandanna. A highly enjoyable romp: fun, cozy, and very satisfying.
Our Share of Night, Mariana Enriquez. A story of horrors – both supernatural and political – that haunt a father and son in Argentina in the 1960s and onward. It didn’t entirely work for me, but those parts that did were strange, beautiful, and gripping.
Unraveller, Frances Hardinge. I’m a huge fan of Hardinge’s fantasy and this doesn’t disappoint. Great worldbuilding that works so intuitively that everything just seems right, rich characters, and beautiful prose.
With the husband no longer required to spend most of his days face down in a special “retina recovery” chair (for which he was extremely grateful), I was cleared to go off to Nova Scotia with various family members to see the new great-grandson (again, not mine, I must point out).
We had a lovely visit in Kentville, stopped in Lunenburg and Peggy’s Cove, and stayed an extra day in Halifax. I found some beautiful places to walk and, of course, a cemetery or two.
Some shots from Miner’s Marsh, which was full of birdsong and beauty.
The cemeteries – one at a local church and one on a ridge beside the main road.
Where we left our heroine, she was recovering from Covid and a bad fall. May was promising, with a visit from a sibling, a road trip, and a long-delayed trip to Nova Scotia coming up in June. Work on the witch novel was proceeding, flamenco class had been resumed, I’d had my first writing date since March, and the seeds that precipitated the fall had been planted.
Then my husband went for his every-two-year examination by the retinal specialists at Toronto Western Hospital. Concerned noises were made. Some lasering was done. Surgery would be required. No, it couldn’t wait until after visits and road trips and air travel was definitely not going to happen.
On the upside, his slowly detaching retina will be dealt with (as well the cataract in that eye, which I suppose is a bonus), our road trip travel arrangements can be cancelled with no penalty, and I’m going to make the Nova Scotia trip anyway, as additional company on the “meet the great-grandson” tour. Not MY great-grandson, I must point out. We’re hoping that his recovery requirements won’t be too onerous but we won’t find out the details until next week.
In the meantime, editing can be done, tomatoes can be planted, and there are lots of podcasts to listen to if he’s not allowed to read.
Yes, I know it’s overused, but April has not been kind to me.
First up, COVID. I paid the price for sitting in a coffee shop for two hours by testing positive at the end of March. Gestures were made towards isolating from my husband but he inevitably came down with it as well. His case was mild and over quickly. Mine was only slightly more annoying (equivalent to a bad cold or flu) but I’ve had lingering symptoms. Some days I can do a whole flamenco class with only one rest break (conveniently allowing me to pet the studio cat) and other days I break out into a cold sweat and feel nauseous after fifteen minutes of activity. Fortunately, I seem to be able to walk for an hour without noticeable problems (ok, I pick routes with benches so I can rest a bit, I admit it).
I tested negative in time to go to the touring production of HAMILTON in Toronto and see friends and was looking forward to having everything get back to normal then …
On Thursday, I prepared to plant some early seeds in my garden. I retrieved a rake from the garage, started across the patio, promptly tripped and down I went. At least I didn’t land ON the rake. I did break my computer glasses (thank goodness I’d forgotten to swap back to my usual ones) and bang up my knees quite badly. After several minutes of what must have looked like bad physical comedy, my husband and I managed to get me up onto my feet and inside to the couch. I can now make it around the house without holding onto walls but my flamenco practice is restricted to arm and hand movements.
On the upside, I finished inputting all my changes to the Witch Novel and assembling the very long list of things to be reviewed, finalized and revised.
Finished off the first review of the novel. Conclusions:
I definitely lost track of the timing in some places. The book takes place over 60 years and has three main characters, so there are lots of gaps to be bridged and simultaneous actions to be managed
Some of the prose is pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. It’s not ‘transparent’ but, as the man (Neil Young) says, ‘that’s my style’. There’s work to be done to eliminate a great number of commas and provide more variety in sentence structure but overall it doesn’t make me want to abandon all hope of writing and go live in a cave.
My preliminary assessment is that there’s a fairly even balance between scenes that need to be added and scenes that can come out, which I think is good.
There are some big decisions I’ve been avoiding and now is the time they’ll have to be made.
There are lots of little decisions I’ve also been avoiding (what is the name of that town? What titles do people use? What time of year is it?) that will also have to be made. At least I have to establish some consistency, if only to make it easier to use ‘search and replace’ later in the process.
Next steps:
make some easy text changes. This reread wasn’t for prose but there are some rough bits to be fixed.
Note all the bigger issues to be changed, checked, reviewed
Consider having a trusted reader go through it and give me some help in making the big decisions I’ve been dithering about.
