Back in the saddle again …

Well, not literally. I’m talking about the book I’ve been writing on and, more specifically, off for the lastmoleskin nine years.

When my mother was ailing I was struck with an idea for a book about her and me. I tucked it away in the back of my mind for later. I said nothing to anyone until the day after she died, when my closest friend and I were headed back to Montreal for the funeral.

As the words literally started pouring out of my mouth, my friend handed me some paper and a pen and I spent the rest of the trip writing. This
went on for the next three months. It was amazing, the book was literally writing itself.

Seven chapters in, I hit the wall. No, not writer’s block. I’d been Continue reading

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Life, tortillas and Antonio Banderas

Right now you haven’t got a clue where I’m going with this, do you?  Patience my friends, all will becomeguacamole clear.

But first, let me start by saying that Isabel Allende is one of my favourite authors. I’ve read all but one (her latest and it’s on my list) of her books, many of them multiple times. She takes you on magical voyages, not all of which are fiction.

Knowing this, last weekend a friend sent me a link to a Ted Talk she gave in March 2014: “How to live passionately — no matter your age.” OMG!  You owe it to yourself to watch it here.

Of course, given my recent post on meditating, avoiding negativity and embracing happiness the timing was absolutely impeccable. Allende’s  Continue reading

Beyond the pale …

It’s horrifying as far as I’m concerned.  Horrifying, disgusting, despicable, tasteless, outrageous and a prime givingthefingerexample of the greed that seems to have overtaken us.  Amazon.ca is selling an e-book written by one of the most evil, sick, twisted individuals ever.

I don’t know who over there made the decision to accept it, but here’s what I think of that decision.  And the book.

Paul Bernardo who, in 1995, was sentenced to life with no chance of parole for 25 years, brutally raped and killed two teenagers in St. Catharines, Ontario.  Leslie Mahaffy was 14 and Kristen French was 15.  He also admitted to raping 14 other women in Scarborough, a Toronto Continue reading

It’s a mystery, all right …

My mind definitely wanders. I do love to daydream. And you could say I have an over-active imagination. So is it any wonder this recent WordPress Daily Post Chocolate Cakereally tickled my fancy?

“You walk into your home to find a couple you don’t know sitting in your living room, eating a slice of cake. Tell us what happens next.”

Well to begin with, I’m not sure I would have been more startled by the strangers in my house or the fact they were eating cake. I never have cake in my house. Okay, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration. But only slight.

First of all, I don’t bake. I’m not a sweet lover. From time to time I get a craving, but they are few and far

Continue reading

Blog tour: The writing process

Pete Armetta is a writer whose work I love. I love his thoughts and I love how he expresses them, whether it’s through poetry, short stories, essays or writingquillfiction. Yes, he is that versatile, that able, that talented. I ‘met’ him here, on WordPress; and from the very first moment I read one of his posts I became a fan. And a follower.

Here’s your chance to do the same.

A couple of nights ago he invited me to participate in The Writing Process blog tour. He’d been invited by a friend and fellow blogger. Read what he shared, with just one click.

Some info I knew, some I didn’t. But none of it surprised me. Because along with being a terrific writer, he is committed and passionate and determined.

The Writing Process:

1. What are you working on?

A bit of background, first. My mother used to tell me as far back as when I was 11 or 12 years old, I routinely re-wrote (and re-thought) ads I saw in magazines. So I suppose it wasn’t ‘news’ when I told my parents, at age 15, I wanted to work in advertising.

And it is what I ended up doing. First as a copywriter, then as a creative director — for the Montreal and Toronto offices of some of the world’s biggest

Continue reading

Day 356. Twenty-Six …

Well, did I ever just have a blast!  Wasn’t sure I could do it, but you know me, I have to try.  And once I’ve decided to try, I can’t quit.  That’s how I’ve made it letters a and bthis far, with this blog.  Once I was committed there was just no way I wouldn’t see it through.  I have way too much pride.

So once I became intrigued with yesterday’s WordPress Daily Prompt, I was hooked.  “Create a short story, piece of memoir, or epic poem that is 26 sentences long, in which the first sentence begins with “A” and each sentence thereafter begins with the next letter of the alphabet.”  

In the end, after banging my head against the wall for a few hours, I decided to go with something simple.  I wouldn’t call it great literature, by any means, but I did get the job done.  And I had a great time with it.  I Continue reading

Day 307. No Words

He was already there.  When I walked in, he was checking his email.  At least that’s what I presumed he was doing.  He had his Blackberry in his hand.  At least it elevatormanlooked like a Blackberry.  He was scrolling.  And staring at it.  Engrossed, actually.

Hardly unusual these days.  Do you ever see anyone without a device of some kind, in their hands?  I don’t. We text in meetings.  We check emails in restaurants.  We walk down the street talking on the phone.  God help us, we even do it while we’re driving.

So I wasn’t the least bit surprised when he never looked up.  Not even for a minute.  Frankly, I’m not sure he was Continue reading

Day 221. A Void

I realized something this morning.  But I have no idea what prompted the thought.  From the day I first learned to read, there’s never been a day when I haven’t had bookmy nose buried in a book.

Until recently.

Honestly, I don’t remember when the last time was, I curled up with a good book.  And got so involved in the story, I lost track of time.  Not wanting to put the book down, even for a minute, to go to the bathroom.

Or talk on the phone.  Or make a cup of tea.  Or have a snack.  Or eat dinner.  Or go to sleep.

My life has been filled with books I loved so much, I’d have to read them, cover to cover, in a day.  And all night, if necessary.  There have been hundreds of all-nighters, during my lifetime.

Always, dreading the end, actually.  Wanting them never to end.  The books, not the nights. Continue reading