Yet another revelation

I recently had a bad experience. For the most part it was avoidable, which for someone with my personality, makes it that much worse. Because then I get pissed off with myself too.

It was frustrating, maddening, annoying, upsetting and to some degree, by the time it became apparent just how badly off the rails it was, there was nothing I could do about it. Which didn’t help. And neither did the fact that it involved someone I hold in high regard, someone I have trusted and counted on, which is why I’m not going into detail about what, exactly, happened.

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What the 2016 Presidential race is not …

Sorry to spring this on you so late in the game, but you’re all barking up the wrong tree. This election isMale and Female Logic not about the Democrats, the Republicans, the Independents or the Socialists. It’s not about insiders versus outsiders. It’s not about gender, it’s not about age, it’s not about experience or the lack there of.  And sadly, it’s definitely not about the issues.

This race is about rational versus irrational. From the candidates, to their surrogates, to the parties, to the Continue reading

Are all writers a little weird … ?

… or is it just me?typewriter

Since moving to Toronto in 1985, every house or apartment I’ve either rented or owned has had an office, or at least a dedicated space for writing. One that’s properly outfitted, with a desk, a comfortable chair, a filing cabinet, storage for books and supplies, good light, everything one would need.

I have never sat, or worked, in any of them.

When I got to the part, in the book I’m writing, where my mom died I couldn’t write at home. It took me about six Continue reading

Glory Hallelujah!

Yes, I am happy.  Very happy.  Jumping for joy happy.  Nope, I did not win a lottery.  This is better, actually.  Yeah, better than winning a lottery.  I may actually breakthroughhave talked about this before.  Doesn’t matter.  I’m gonna talk about it again.  It’s different this time anyhow.

For at least the last twenty years I’ve wanted to write a book.  Nothing to do with ego, I have just always thought there was one in me.  God knows I tried.  I gave myself headaches trying to come up with topics.  I’d write a few sentences, maybe a paragraph or two, only to end up ripping the sheet of paper off the pad, crumpling it up in a ball and tossing it.  I even took a book writing course, which I really enjoyed.  Not that

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Day 225. Another Calling?

I watched Tom Brokaw, the American broadcast journalist, on the OWN Network the other night.  Among the many things he discussed, he talked about how he emotionalalways knew journalism was his true calling.  How, as a young boy, watching the news with his family in South Dakota, he was transfixed.  And even then, he knew it was what he wanted to do.

Clearly he was right, because he is one of the most respected newsmen of our time.  Certainly one of my favourites, along with Walter Cronkite, Chet Huntley and David Brinkley.

God, now I am dating myself.  I’ll bet there are a lot of you out there, who don’t know who I’m talking about.  Well, there it is. Would it help if I told you, I was a mere child when they were on the air?  It’s true, you know.

Not that it really matters.  I’m glad I had the chance to see them in action.  I can’t think of anyone I’d stack up against them, now.

But that’s not the point of this story.  Destiny is.

You could say it was Tom Brokaw’s destiny to end up not merely reporting the news, but making sense of it, for almost fifty Continue reading

Day 125. Opening Up

Little did I know, when I first started this blog, what it would come to mean to me.  What it would do for me.  How it would help me, as a writer.  But while I was sharing2having my morning coffee a couple of days ago, I had an epiphany.  I’ll tell you about it in a minute.  First, a quick story.

I’m writing a book.  It’s about my mother, at a time when her health was declining; and she needed my help.  About a year ago I was having lunch with a fellow writer.  One thing led to another.  I won’t bore you with all the details, but she highly recommended her editor.

At the time I was at the half way point. It was a draft, not yet polished.  Still, the editor suggested I send her twenty-five pages.  When she got back to me, she insisted I wasn’t being honest.  “Where’s the resentment?” she asked.  “Don’t tell me you weren’t angry with your mother”. Truth is, I wasn’t.

If she’d asked for more pages she would have found out what had upset me.  There were feelings I shared.  Just not the ones she wanted me to feel.  Turned out she hated her mother; and projected her own feelings on to me.  Clearly we weren’t a good fit.

Since then I’ve done more work on my book.  A few months ago I had a breakthrough.  Important enough to stop writing and Continue reading