Don't Worry

Shortly around new year’s I was walking Astra one morning. It was early and deserted. A young man was walking down the path toward us. Astra became a bit nervous. I was telling her it was, “Okay”, but with a strange man approaching, I am not sure if I believed it.  When he got closer, he said, “Don’t worry,” and kept walking.  He might have been a University of Ottawa student, as he went up to Laurier Avenue, to cross the bridge over the Rideau Canal.

“Don’t worry.” Words that are found in the Bible. I tried to “Google” how many times, but the search engine goes straight to “Do not fear”. These words are mentioned 365 times in the Bible. One scripture verse for every day. Thankfully, someone has already completed the exercise of going through the Bible and listing them:  https://believersportal.com/list-365-fear-not-bible-verses/

Truth be told, I have been struggling for months or even years.  The sudden interest in MAiD for my dad might just be about me. I am unmarried.  I have no children. I am an only child. (Well, I have a half-sister and niece, but as she came into our lives when I was in my twenties, it doesn’t feel like a real sibling.) Once my parents are gone, what motivation do I have to go on living?  My writing?  I don’t think that is enough.

Over Christmas I watched, The Man Who Invented Christmas. Charles Dickens is quoted as saying, “No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.”

While making a coconut cream pie (with my favourite, a graham crust and real whipping cream), I put on the movie Eat, Pray, Love.  (Talk about messed up, that Elizabeth Gilbert. 😊 )

It put me to mind that something has to change. I can’t possibly go on like this – depressed, apathetic, lethargic, angry, unthankful, miserable, hating my life, my job, even my friends (to a point).

I look at the Potvin clan. My dad and my uncle. Both unmarried. Alone. And I am afraid that is who I am becoming.  

The bad choices my dad and uncle made early on in their lives (the drinking), have come back to haunt them, like the Ghost of Christmas past. (I don’t have a drinking problem, at least. I barely touch alcohol, except for cooking salmon and chicken/turkey stews/pot pies.)  But, there are other similarities that scare me, and the fact that my dad could very likely suffer a fatal stroke or heart attack in his apartment and not be discovered for an entire week, scares me.

He doesn’t seem to be afraid of this reality, or maybe he just doesn’t care.  I do. I care a lot.

And, then I hear the words, “Don’t worry” and “Do not fear” and I think the answer is in these words.

I don’t like new year’s resolutions. We all break them. But, this year, I will try to change my thoughts. To stop myself when I start to go down the negative rabbit hole. I will try to find a balance between being thankful for what I have, while still hoping for the things I would like to have.  That sounds like a good start to 2023.

Thanks Charles Dickens and Elizabeth Gilbert. (Hey, bet she never thought she’d be mentioned in the same sentence as C.D.)

Thank you for reading,

Ellie

A Canadian Christmas Carol

Hello All,

 Merry Christmas!

I am afraid this is going to be a somber entry for the Christmas season.

I have been thinking about death as most people, if they think of Jesus at all, are thinking about birth. It’s just that my dad is not well. It seems to be a battle of ups and downs with his health. (Some of which is within his control to fix, but he won’t.)

I wonder if it’s his old-school Roman Catholic upbringing.  We are sinful and we must suffer for our sins before we die. He’s carrying around a lot of unnecessary baggage.

The Bible does say that we must suffer, as Christ suffered, but I don’t believe this scripture means self-harm.  We will have suffering and struggles in this life, but to add to that suffering willingly seems rather pointless and I dare say, is not of God.  

The other trigger that got me thinking about death was from an article I had heard about. A woman who could no longer afford rent was considering Medical Assistance in Dying (MAiD), as it seemed to be the only option.

I reached out to a friend and asked his thoughts. He reminded me of the story I had heard about in the news, and that Canadian legislation has changed (via Bill C-7, An Act to amend the Criminal Code (medical assistance in dying)), making the criteria of those who qualify for MAiD wider.  As a book lover, it made me think of the following quote:

“I don't make merry myself at Christmas, and I can't afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned--they cost enough; and those who are badly off must go there."

 "Many can't go there; and many would rather die."

 "If they would rather die," said Scrooge, "they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population." 

  (A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens)

Oh, Canada, have we really created a society that would “kill off” those who are poor and vulnerable?  Is this who we are?

 I can understand why someone who is terminally ill would seek MAiD. I can even understand why someone battling mental illness might want to give up the fight. (This understanding comes from personal experience of having a mother who has attempted suicide twice in my lifetime.)

I haven’t mentioned MAiD as a possible option to my dad. I don’t know if he is aware of it, or if he would even consider it.  All I know, is that he is suffering, punishing himself for his sins and it’s really hard to watch.

But, since actually reading the article and others, I have to reconsider my position about its morality.

Right now, my personal opinion is this: I think MAiD has its purpose and place, but we have gone too far.

As for my dad, I know that all I can do is speak forgiveness and love to him and hope he finds his way.  I can probably say the same for myself. How about you?

I hope you find love, peace, joy and the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living this Christmas / holiday season.

Thank you for reading,

 Ellie

The First Year

Hello All,

I know it has been quite some time since I have written anything in this blog. It sometimes feels so futile, like who is reading this anyway?

But, it’s the Army Run day in Ottawa and a pretty quiet Sunday, so here goes.

Astra turned one (1) on August 25th and we ‘celebrated’ a whole year together on October 17th. I can’t believe we’ve made it. Both of us are still in one piece. We had a couple health scares. For Astra, not me. She had a blockage from eating something - likely hard plastic - and was kept overnight at the emergency vet clinic. (It is possible I blogged about this incident.)

She’s almost choked a few times on sticks. It was pretty scary, but she survived and my heart eventually returned to a normal, healthy beat. This girl stresses me out. She still gets into things she shouldn’t, but she’s gotten a lot better and not picking up every piece of garbage she smells/sees on the street. (Sigh.)

It’s been a year of learning, growing and getting to know each other.

Astra reacts when I get upset, angry or frustrated. (Mostly work related stress, to be honest.) I realized early on that I would have to control my emotions, and i am working on it. But I am a hot-blooded Latin girl after all, so … what’s a girl to do?

Astra has such a big heart and is so kind to (almost) everyone, no matter if they are homeless, in business suits, police officers, young, old, the wheelchair bound. She doesn’t discriminate based on the colour of someone’s skin. (Except there was this one time she barked at a lovely young lady in a hijab, who was asking me for directions … Sorry!) Fortunately, there is no pattern to why she reacts to certain people and not others.

This is the reason I love dogs so much. They have so much love to give, and Astra has it in spades! Generally, she just loves everyone and doesn’t understand why some people don’t want to stop and tell her how beautiful she is! She’s such a sweet girl (until you try and take a stick, tissue or another dog’s ball/toy from her mouth.)

She definitely makes me stop and smell the roses!

Best of all, she puts a smile on the faces of those who want to stop and give her a pat, or her most favourite thing, a belly rub. Pure doggie bliss! And, that makes me happy, to be able to stop and let a stranger have a joyful moment with Astra. All in all, I feel blessed to have her in my life.

Buyer’s regret? No, but the day is still young.

Feel free to share some of your dog/cat/fish/iguana/bird stories. I would love to hear them.

Thank you for reading.

Ellie

Astra the Cone-head

December 6, 2021

I know it’s been some time since I’ve written about Astra. 

To quote a random stranger (fellow dog-owner), “Puppies are a nightmare.”

Yes they are.  I highly recommend goldfish. They’re no trouble at all, and whoever heard of someone going to pieces when their goldfish went to goldfish heaven. No one.  That’s who.

The last month and a half have been busy. With end of year work, training a puppy, and let’s just say it, the stress of Covid and another new bloody variant, I am pretty worn out from it all. 

So, last week Astra began vomiting and had some serious diarrhea. (Apologies to those with weak stomachs.)  In hindsight, I should have called the vet sooner. I had to take her to emergency on Sunday morning.  

Then yesterday, as soon as she ate, she tossed it back out again like that moment when the pinata breaks open. Except pinatas are filled with candy. Astra was filled with kibble, a piece of her pee pad and another piece of paper she had swallowed.  (I clearly missed that last one!)

I had a good cry yesterday and thanks to the support of some fellow dog owners, friends and my mom, I muddled through.

Also said a prayer that the obstruction in her intestine would dissolve.  And guess what. It did!  The vet confirmed at five a.m. this morning that the material that looked like hard plastic, was now granular.  Praise God!

(I know there’s some people who don’t believe in God, and that’s fine. I just have to give Him thanks and praise for answering my prayers because I believe He answered them.  Otherwise, I would be a hypocrite.  With so many human weaknesses and failings, I don’t want to add that one to the list today, so I happily, gratefully, and publicly give glory to God!)

Also, a big thanks to the staff at the Lola Emergency Hospital.  They took good care of my girl, so “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

I still have to monitor her closely, give her some meds, and am still waiting for some test results to come back.  But, I am feeling much more peaceful today.

I think Astra is too. At least I hope she is. When leaving the clinic, she was pretty tentative to follow the staff member. I had to go stand at the bottom of the steps, take off my mask, and say, “Astra. It’s me.” She didn’t seem all that amused to be quite honest, but I was her safest bet, so down she came.

We’ll start to grow on each other. Eventually. :)

Thanks for reading,

Ellie

P.S. For those of you with pets at emergency clinics, I feel your pain.  Take good care of yourself too!

It's a girl ...

Hello there,

It’s been a while since I have written anything and I need to get to it. I did what feels like a crazy thing, and got myself a puppy. A Husky/Malamute mix. Maybe a Bulldog is more stubborn. It feels like a toss up. Anyway, I have put together some of my memorable moments with Astra. It’s been almost two weeks, so I am clearly late, but here is Day 1.

Thanks for reading,

Ellie

Day 1

Sunday, October 17, 2021

I’ve been wanting a dog for a while now, and today it finally happened. I picked her up today, so she is officially mine. Or, more likely, I am officially hers.

First of all, the drive out to Rockland was made more complicated by Google Maps.  It told me the highway was closed in sections, but I have my doubts. I still panicked, took an exit I thought was a good option, changed my mind, got back on the highway, and let the lady (who, by the way, has worse pronunciation of French makes mine sound like a symphony in comparison), to the right exit. 

Can I just say, I hate roundabouts. I think it was the Europeans who invented them to make traffic flow better, but I think they’re ridiculous. I’ll let you decide whether I am talking about roundabouts or Europeans.

Miraculously, the highway reopened for the drive back. This was much less stressful for me, and consequently for the pup.

She stopped crying within 5 minutes (thank heavens) and settled in nicely on the drive home. She’d stick her head up to see what was going on, and lie back down in the Rubbermaid tub I scrounged up at the last minute to bring her home in, after realizing the box I had was not going to cut it for a husky/malamute pup. 

Kinda wonder why I have to be so enamored with large dogs.  Can’t I just be a satisfied with a full-grown dog I could tuck in my purse? 

But, as you can see from her picture, how can anyone resist such cuteness?

Ellie

Be still ...

Hello there,

I hope you’re keeping safe and well.

It’s been quite some time since I’ve blogged (over a year), which is terrible practice if you want people to read your blog! I know the stats. People forget about you if you take a break of a couple months, let alone a full year. I think the only person who can get away with taking a break for an entire year is Celine Dion.

I guess I haven’t felt very inspired to write the blog over the last year. Covid took the wind out of my sails. I have also been focused on my creative writing, but with a year or so in, I still don’t feel like I have made major headway. But still … I continue to write and do my best during these bizarre times.

I woke up this morning thinking about anxiety and worry. I am not going to lie and tell you I feel no anxiety or worry at all. I do. This Covid situation is taking its toll. My sinuses start to act up, I get a bit of a sore throat and my mind goes into panic-mode. A mild panic? A medium-sized panic? I can’t say how much anxiety really, but I do get stressed out. (Hooray for Tylenol sinus!)

Personally, I have my Christian faith. I can go to the Bible and be reminded of important things like peace, joy, forbearance, grace … Along with my faith, I add some lovely classical music, some good books (The Overstory is next on my list), and connecting with a couple friends on a weekly basis.

I have also started to reach out to colleagues. We either do FaceTime or chat while walking around our respective neighbourhoods. It recently dawned on my that although I live in Canada (a Covid hot-spot), my world is bigger because I reach out to external counsel in various countries. I am sure I have other colleagues who must feel it too, whether they’ve called Turtle Island/Canada home for over 10,000 years, 300 years or have just moved here themselves.

So, when I see the news (and I have no idea what is reality and what is sensationalism), I know there’s some grain of truth and so I worry about the people I “know” in those countries. Disasters and tragedies in other countries become personal. (And, yes, I am getting teary-eyed thinking about what India is currently going through.)

This is the perfect segue to my next point, and we all know it, don’t we?

1. Turn off the news or any digital news!

2. Turn off those darn news pop-ups! Who gives a toss .about a rich white boy (getting richer by the minute) complaining about his privileged position? (That would be Prince Harry, people.)

3. Tune out those negative images that are only trying to bring you down more.

Let’s let the soothing sounds of Edvard Grieg’s Morning Song renew our minds, spirits and bodies.

I am sure you’ve been better at finding virtual things to do, but here’s a link to an article about 12 Famous Museums that offer virtual tours.

Or, come to Canada! Here’s the National Gallery’s virtual link. I do hope there are more pics besides icebergs. And just for the record, I have never seen an iceberg in the Ottawa River…and I hope i never do …

Wherever you are, I hope you have a good day!

Happy virtual travels!

Hugs,

Ellie

PS - I have no affiliation with Tylenol.

"If you want to change the world, pick up your pen and write."

Hi there,

I know it’s been awhile since I have posted anything.

I’ve been feeling out of sorts, and not really sure what to write about.

Then it happened in America again. A black man was killed by a white police officer.  George Floyd’s death has sparked riots in Minneapolis, and has (re)started the conversation in this country about anti-Black racism in Canada.

Which brings me to a piece I watched on the news just this morning. A black, male, University of Ottawa student, who experienced racism on campus said that white people need to use our privilege, to speak up and get policies changed.  E.g. The concept of race is false.   I am sending you the link in case you'd like to check it out - https://ottawa.ctvnews.ca/video?clipId=1968301

Martin Luther said, “If you want to change the world, pick up your pen and write.”  (Or, at least he is given credit on the internet for saying this.)

I believe it is the artist’s calling to speak out against injustices of his/her time.  Writers from every century have called out hypocrisy, misogyny, racism, etc. And, so I feel that it is part of my duty as a writer to do the same.

That said, a crucial piece to our understanding is the act of reading. In Canada, we are blessed to have a diverse group of writers, so I would encourage you to read. I will include a list of my favourites, below.

And, if you feel so inclined, to pick up your pen and write to your MP.  We should expect better and justice for every person of colour in this country.

Books/Authors to check out:

1. Richard Wagamese (pretty much anything this man wrote is AMAZING) – I particularly liked Keeper’n Me and Medicine Walk.
2.  Rachel Manley – The Black Peacock     
3. Esi Edugyan – Washington Black
4. Jasmine Aziz – Sex & Samosas
5.  Sonia Saikaley – The Allspice Bath
6.  Thomas King – The Inconvenient Indian
7.   Waubgeshig Rice – Moon of the Crusted Snow
8.   Austin Clarke – The Polished Hoe (it’s on my list to read)
9.   Mairuth Sarsfield – No Crystal Stair (also on my list)
10.   Mordecai Richler – Barney’s Version
11.   Joy Kogawa – Obasan (a must read for every Canadian)
12.   Susan Juby - The Woefield Poultry Collective – the only white person to make the list (at least I think she is).  It’s funny and offers some humour, as some of these books are emotionally weighted!  Sex & Samosas, The Inconvenient Indian and Keeper’n Me also offer some humour.

Until next time,

Ellie

I'm going to sea in a sieve ...

Hi there,

I am not big on poetry.  I try to appreciate it, but it doesn’t capture my imagination the way short stories or novels do. 

That said, I appreciate the skill it takes to write a darn good poem that captures the literary devices in one short sonnet or verse. 

The reason why people love Alice Muntro so much is that she is able to do in a short story what some novelists cannot do in a novel – draw you into a world with the richness and depth of words, images, symbolism.  She obviously worked very hard on the craft of writing.

The “ABC” of fine arts:

Art, Business, Craft

Art

Art is beautiful.  We’ve all been witness to this greatness. We’ve seen a dancer perform on stage and have been in awe of the beauty, grace and magic of the performance.

For me, I’ve had two moments like this.

The first was in high school. For someone who majored in English and wanted to be a writer, I was your typical teenager sitting in English class, who barely understood a word of Shakespeare. I also confess that I completely missed the symbolism of the green light in The Great Gatsby. I was pretty clueless.  But, one day the teacher showed us two versions of the Shakespeare play we were reading. 

I remember sitting in class watching the first version, using my own acting skills to act like I was paying attention and very interested in the play.

But something happened. The teacher put the next version on, and my full attention was on that actor. He was brilliant.  His name:  Patrick Stewart.  I am not a big Star Trek fan, but if an actor can draw a teenage girl into the confusing world of Shakespeare, that actor has got my full respect!

The second one was a recent event. I went to see a Baroque dance performed to strings.  She was amazing. Her movements. The control she had over her body.  The precision.  I was spellbound.

Business

The business. When I took a screenwriting camp, the professor reminded us that it is a business. Know your worth.  As writers, especially of fiction and poetry, I bet we all think we’re pretty worthless. We don’t expect to receive anything for what we have written and are tickled if someone wants to publish.  I am not sure where to draw the line. The truth is there’s not a lot of money in Canada, so building up your resume is a good idea.  I think it’s best to keep this principle in mind, though. Writing is a business.  I don’t really know any books that help with this, so if you do, please let us know. We would greatly appreciate it!

Craft

The craft of writing.  This is probably the most painful one. At least it is for me. I write knowing that the words you I down on the page will need to be edited.  I will need to sit down and do the hard work of sifting through what I have written and make hard choices.  E.g. Getting rid of characters or scenes that I may love, but that do not move the story forward.  The craft of writing is hard, but well worth the effort.  We just need to keep encouraging each other!

Writing feels like “going to sea in a sieve", so I would like to leave you with one of my favourite poems. It is called The Jumblies by Edward Lear.  It’s from the Victorian period and falls under the category of “Nonsense Poems”.  Lewis Carroll falls into this category.

Enjoy,

Until next time,

Ellie

*Photo from The Jumblies & the Sieve - Caroline Apichella

Literary Love: Part II

Hi there,

Last time, I confessed to you that my first literary love was Peter Pan.

Today, I would like to share with you my second literary love.  Anton Chekhov.

I think I am improving. My first love was a character. My second love is dead, but at least he was a real person.

The thing I loved about Chekhov was his dark humour.

The Bear:  A Joke in One Act won me over.  Here’s a scene between Popova (the grieving widow) and Smirnov (the creditor):

SMIRNOV.
We'll fight it out! I'm not going to be insulted by anybody, and I don't care if you are a woman, one of the
"softer sex," indeed!

POPOVA.
[Trying to interrupt him] Bear! Bear! Bear!

SMIRNOV.
It's about time we got rid of the prejudice that only men need pay for their insults. Devil take it, if you
want equality of rights you can have it. We're going to fight it out!

POPOVA.
With pistols? Very well!

SMIRNOV.
This very minute.

POPOVA.
This very minute! My husband had some pistols.... I'll bring them here. [Is going, but turns back]  What
pleasure it will give me to put a bullet into your thick head! Devil take you! [Exit.]

Isn’t this GREAT!  A dual between a man and a woman.

But, how will it end.   Hmm?  Come to think of it, Chekhov may have invented the Romantic Comedy genre.  (Not sure how I feel about him right now, but I will soldier on.)

The thing about Chekhov’s writing is that it is so real.  Characters interact with each other without even really listening to what the other character is saying.

HELENA. What a fine day! Not too hot. [A pause.]

VOITSKI. A fine day to hang oneself.”

And, what is Helena’s response. She continues feeding the chickens.

Of the man.  Chekhov wrote: "My holy of holies is the human body, health, intelligence, talent, love and the most absolute freedom imaginable, freedom from violence and lying, whatever form they may take. That's the programme I would follow if I were a great artist."

Who is your literary love?

Until next time,

Ellie

*Quotes from https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/features/chekhov-the-first-truly-modern-master-1860893.html

“I'm youth, I'm joy, I'm a little bird that has broken out of the egg.”

Hi there,

It’s hard to ignore the Coronavirus.  I’ve tried and I think it has been affecting my ability to write this blog.  (It seems like a good excuse, anyway.)

As I sat down (two days late!) I thought of when I fell in love.   Not with a man, but with stories!!

My first literary love was Peter Pan. There’s just something about a guy in green tights that really did something for me when I was a girl.

Or, maybe it was Peter Pan’s words to Wendy. He said,

• “Wendy," Peter Pan continued in a voice that no woman has ever yet been able to resist, "Wendy, one girl is more use than twenty boys.”

It was a story about growing up and taking risks. A story about independence and choosing for yourself.  But, most of all, it was a story about adventure.

• “Would you like an adventure now, or would like to have your tea first?”

Wendy has two choices.  She can stay where she is safe. Or, she can step outside into the cool night air and, well, FLY!

With some encouragement, she takes that step.

• “The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it.”

Another element I loved was the message of hope.  Peter Pan looks fear square in the eye and says,

• “All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust.”

Fear can paralyze us from moving forward and taking the risks we should take. The inability to trust make us keep our hearts closed.  And, our lack of imagination and wonder keeps us from seeing the wonder of Creation.  “All the world is made of … pixie dust.”

My hope in all this uncertainty is that we will not be afraid, but when we step out onto the streets, into our workplaces, that we are ready to fly.

The brilliance of J.M. Barrie is this:

• “There is a saying in the Neverland that, every time you breathe, a grown-up dies.”

My hope is that we will remember our child-like faith and wonder. That we will see the world through our child-like eyes, and not our adult eyes.

My real hope is that every time we breath, a little piece of that cynical, skeptical, fearful, and mistrustful grown-up will die!

As Peter Pan said, “Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning.”

Until next time,

Ellie

PS - All quotes from J.M, Barrie’s Peter Pan & the photo is from Parade.com.

'Til Death Do Us Part

Hello there,

Write as though you were dying.

These are words spoken by an author at the Kingston Writer’s Festival. (I can’t remember the author!)

At the time, the meaning these words held for me was that I needed to write with a sense of urgency because none of us knows when our time will come.

As I sit here at my computer, I feel that there is something more here.

It means writing with honesty, integrity, vulnerability.

Honesty

“Honesty is a facet of moral character that connotes positive and virtuous attributes such as integrity, truthfulness, straightforwardness, including straightforwardness of conduct…Honesty also involves being trustworthy, loyal, fair, and sincere.” Wikipedia

According to Merriam Webster, the word honesty finds its roots in “Middle English, from Anglo-French, from Latin honestus honorable, from honos, honor”

To write with honor.

We should write as to bring something of worth, or of honor, to our writing.

Integrity

My friend Merriam Webster says that integrity “implies trustworthiness and incorruptibility to a degree that one is incapable of being false to a trust, responsibility, or pledge.”

We must write in such a way that the reader feels safe with us. In a way that the reader implicitly knows that I am “incapable of being false.”

Vulnerability

This word may be the hardest to stomach. To be vulnerable is to be open to being physically or emotionally wounded. Depending on the truth you speak, you could put yourself at risk of being physically wounded.

I find it hard to write with vulnerability. My writing is deeply personal (or should be). I think my problem is that I try to avoid being vulnerable. I am scared of those parts of myself I try to hide.

If I am honest though, when I listen to people speak, I hear their heart speaking to me. People will always reveal their true selves, if we take the time to listen.

So, in the same way others reveal themselves to me, I am revealing myself to others.

I kind of hope these “others” are not as perceptive as us writers. ha ha ha

One time, I tried to assert my own mysteriousness to someone. The person looked at me and said, “You’re an open book.” I was shocked and very disappointed in myself. I really thought I did a good job of hiding, but alas…I am an open book.

So, I will make it my goal to write with honesty, integrity and vulnerability.

Please let me know your thoughts.

Until next time,

Ellie

Blocked!

"There’s no such thing as writer’s block. That was invented by people in California who couldn’t write." — Terry Pratchett

I really have been struggling to sit down and write.

It’s not that I don’t have anything to say, it’s just hard to motivate myself. I need a deadline. Something to work toward.

In my last blog post, I said it was easier to get up to go to work than to write. I beat myself up a bit in that blog, but one week later, I am not feeling like I want to beat myself up.

Writing is hard. Well, that’s not entirely true. writing is easy.  There are so many things to write about.  Inspiration is everywhere. Stories are everywhere.  It’s the reason I appreciate the quote by Terry Pratchett, also known as Sir Terence David John Pratchett OBE, an English humorist.  The man is apparently best known for the Discworld Series, which includes some 41 novels. 

And if you’ll allow me to digress, this is the reason why most writers are not rich and famous!  Who has even heard of Terry Pratchett?  And, in Canada, we have another “famous” humorist named Terry that most people haven’t heard of – Terry Fallis.  

Like I said, the writing is easy, the process is hard.   I.e. editing  

As I am writing crap, I know that I will have to edit it, and I know, beyond any doubt, that the editing is going to be painful!

The truth is, I have a hard time letting go. I’ve mentioned this before, but I have a hard time being vulnerable in my writing.  I can lie to you, dearest strangers, who don’t know me and say, “Oh, that’s just some stuff I made up in my head,” but people who know me, see me in my writing. 

It’s the age-old fear of being known, and in being known, being rejected.  Not good enough. Ernest Hemingway said, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”

Aye, and there’s the rub, as my good friend, Will Shakespeare once said.

I guess the only thing to do is to sit down and write. Truthfully, with vulnerability.  Just bleed.  in Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott said to “write like your parents are dead”. (I’m kind of afraid if I do this, it will kill them!)

I mean the chances of more than a handful of people reading it are pretty slim anyway, right?  😊

Until next time,

Ellie

Write on, Write on ...

Hello there,

I am one day late in writing this blog post. But, I can promise you I have a very good excuse. I have a dreadful sinus cold. Does that count as an excuse?

As I was lazing around this morning, I wondered why is it that I can get myself up to go to work when I have a cold, but am not able to get my butt into gear to write.

Is it because they are paying me to work?

If yes, is it possible to pay myself to write? You know, set a dollar amount, like 50 dollars per hour, and then keep an Excel tracker of my expenses. At the end of the month, I have to transfer the money I earned writing into my savings account.

I actually think this isn’t a bad idea. (I think that NyQuil must be turning me into some kind of genius.)

The other thing that has come to me as I am sitting here writing is that there are people at work with expectations of me. They give me a salary and they expect me to earn my salary. They also expect me to show up for work. They depend on me.

Now, I have to say, I am very fortunate to have supportive managers. (If you’re sick, you’re sick!)

But, there’s still that something inside of us as human beings (being so insecure, I guess) that makes us not want to let others down.

So why is it that I can let myself down. Why is that okay? Why don’t I have expectations of myself when it comes to writing?

So many questions and I would love to hear how you, dear fellow writers or creative people, have learned to be more disciplined.

I guess the trick is to just write.

I am working on a short story where Jane Austen is a character (I know it’s been done, but I think Jane Austen gets pegged as a 19th Century Harlequin Romance writer, but she wasn’t. She was so much more. I would love to see Jane bring these naysayers down with her unmatched wit.)

While searching for some interesting quotes from the authoress for my story, I found this little tidbit from a letter she had written to her sister, Cassandra. Ms. Austen said, “I am not at all in a humor for writing; I must write on till I am” (Oct. 26, 1813).

It is a truth universally acknowledged that all writers, whether they lived in 19th Century England or 21st Century Canada, feel uninspired to write. But, I must “write on till I am”.

Until next time,

Ellie

Are you there, Muse? It’s me Ellie.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve never felt the presence of this “Muse” other writers talk about.

“The word “muse” stems from Greek and Roman mythology, used to describe goddesses who preside over artistic disciplines. Today the word refers to a person who serves as an artist's source of inspiration ― traditionally, a role reserved for women.”  (Huffington Post article called, What It's Really Like To Be An Artist's Muse)

Ah, even the arts are reserved for men, but I digress, and I am only 85 words into this post.  (I just remember feeling annoyed by our current Prime Minister wanting to encourage women in science, when women in the arts are largely ignored.)

The idea that a muse is a person seems strange to me.  It seems to stem from our overly romanticized idea of love, that we need a person to inspire us to create.  HA!  I can absolutely confirm that I bloody well don’t.

As a Christian, to me, the “Muse” is the Holy Spirit.  I have found when I get out of the way, and trust the Spirit to lead me, my writing is much better.  There were a couple of times in university where I received the following comments:  It started out well, but you didn’t push the idea far enough (or something to that effect.)

I knew exactly the moment where I pulled back.  When I stopped working with the Spirit and took over.  I am not saying that the Spirit is the one writing. It is more like a partnership, if that makes sense.  I am still me.  The Spirit is still the Spirit. And, we work together to create something worthwhile. Something true.

I know that not everyone is Christian, so the Muse might be the Universe for you, or maybe you call your Muse, Bob.  Elizabeth Gilbert of Eat, Pray, Love fame gave a Ted Talk called Your Elusive Creative Genius.  It’s definitely worth a view.

I just know that I cannot wait for the Muse to show up in order to write. I must either, i) sit my butt down at my computer and start typing or ii) plunk myself on the sofa with a pad of paper and pen in hand and start writing. 

Either way, Ellie must show up for work. Kind of like this morning when I realized I hadn’t written my blog for Friday morning.  Oops. Next week’s topic – Discipline?

I would love to hear your stories of creative inspiration, even if that inspiration is a literal person named, Bob.

Until next time,

Ellie

Success!

How do you measure success? 

The good thing about being Canadian is that there is no money in Canada.  Meaning, you can have success as a writer in this country and still need to have a 9 to 5 job.  It kind of sucks, but it also keeps you pretty grounded.  The thing that strikes me most at Writer’s Festivals is just that - how grounded the writers are and very supportive of new talent. They’re very willing to share what they know and cheer us on. Plus, Canadians are as funny as heck, so it’s always a good time.

It’s amusing how some people seem to think the following":

• Ellie will write a novel

• Ellie will become famous and rich (of course) and say, “So long, 9 to 5”. 

• Ellie will most likely not become either of these two things

Just the opposite, I think. I mean really , people, I’m currently sitting on a pension plan, benefits and a decent salary. Why would I give all that up to be a struggling artist?  I’m not a bloody actor, after all. 

And here is the blessing in being a writer. We have skills that make us employable in offices.  (Not to put down actors and musicians, but I’ve heard more than one actor or musician saying, “Thank God I made it because what else would I do?”  Unlike our unfortunate brothers and sisters of the actor persuasion, we writers can have stable jobs.

And, this I think is a measure of success. At least for me it is.  I’ve started 2020 with a new attitude.  Writing is my real job.  My 9 to 5 is my hobby. 

I took the month of January off to write and I discovered that after two weeks of being at home, I was ready to head back to the office.  I wondered how people do this writing thing full time. It’s hard work!  (You’ll be glad to know that this desire to head back to the office passed quickly, and I returned to my senses before calling my manager up and telling him I was coming home.)

But I digress.  I still have this idea that success in writing means being published.  Even though my better judgment tells me that getting published really means you have a book launch that only your friends show up to, and that you probably won’t even get a harsh critique of your novel because no one in the media world even knows you got published.  How’s that for brutal honesty?

I want to challenge my own idea of what success looks like and stop with all the glittery, sparkle, which is probably why I am drawn to these three quotes on success. All poignant and wonderful.

1. Do not measure success by today's harvest. Measure success by the seeds you plant today. Robert Louis Stevenson

2. Success is liking yourself, liking what you do, and liking how you do it. Maya Angelou

3. You measure success by how much good you do for others. Zig Ziglar

How do you measure success? 

Until next time,

Ellie

PS - I should say that if your idea of success includes wealth and fame, know that this is okay. Let’s strive to be a supportive and loving community, accepting each other as we are.  How revolutionarily wonderful!

Characters are people too...

Hello there,

Last time I wrote about how I am a “bit” of a control freak, meaning, I am a control freak.

On the exterior, people see a calm demeanor, a relaxed, mellow Ellie, but on the inside, I am a churning volcano, ready to blow!

Okay, maybe that’s not the most accurate image, but sometimes it feels that way. 

Characters are people and I confess I don’t particularly like people. I mean, I do and I don’t.  People have expectations. We’re insecure and fearful and our behavior and actions come from these places. (I thought when I graduated high school, I was done with that nonsense, until I started working in an office – “Holy Moly” as Grumpy Old Man, Max Goldman (Walter Matthau) would say.) 

And so, part of my desire to control my characters came from the fact that I can’t control the characters around me.  I was thinking, how wonderful, I have some people I’ve created that I can control, but lo and behold, they are uncontrollable too.

My question is this:  If a writer isn’t so fond of people, can that person be a good writer?  My fellow writers, are you fond of people?

Honesty and vulnerability are important qualities or characteristics needed in any human being.  Maybe I’ve stumbled on the answer.

If I feel somewhat distraught by humanity – our flaws, our propensity to continue to get it wrong – repeat history – make the same mistakes – repeat the same errors – then I need to lean into this feeling as a writer and embrace it in my writing; otherwise, the reader will know I am a fraud and toss my novel, poetry, etc. aside.

Fortunately, I have hope and faith that in the end, it will turn out well.  Isn’t that what Woody Allan had Gertrude Stein say in Midnight in Paris? 

“We all fear death and question our place in the universe. The artist's job is not to succumb to despair, but to find an antidote for the emptiness of existence.”

If you need a break and a good laugh at the struggles a writer has with character, The Man Who Invented Christmas is a good movie.   Charles Dickens and Scrooge – one of the most unforgettable characters in literature. But, do I mean Scrooge or Dickens?  We’ll never know.

Until next time,

Ellie

What a character!

Hello there,

Writer friends, I am sure you’ve realized this truth long before I did.

• Characters never do what you want them to do. 

For some reason, I was of the belief that since I had created these characters, I could control them.  (I am a bit of a control freak. I like things to be structured, predictable, you know controlled.) 

You know that old saying, “The pen is mightier than the sword”? Well, it is wrong! These characters refuse to yield to my mighty pen.

For instance, in my current project, I have “created” a main character who is quiet.  I really wanted to explore or highlight the quiet type. (By the way, if you’re an introvert, the book Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can’t Stop Talking is wonderful.) 

What I found while writing the story is that the “stronger” characters, which is just a way of saying the louder characters, overtook and overshadowed my main character. How dare they!

It began to feel like I needed to elbow these loud characters out of the way to make room for my quiet character. Or, to give them a good body check into the boards in good old-fashioned Canadian style. 

My character needed room or space to grow.  I may have threatened to kill them off if they didn’t behave!

But, I knew in my heart that killing them off wouldn’t help the situation.  My job was to somehow, without murdering everyone else in the story, was to make sure my main character gets the space he needs to grow.

So, I went back and began to create some solitary space for him. My task now is to really focus on his inner dialogue. Maybe the other characters in his day to day life don’t see his value, but darn it all, the reader will.

I’ve also brought in a character or two, who can see beyond the skin’s surface. 

All in all, I’ve learned three important lessons in literature and in life:

1. I am not God,

2. I am not in control, and

3. I need to trust the characters, that they know the story that needs to be told

I think I am on the right path now, but like my novel, I am a work in progress.

Please feel free to share your thoughts, lessons learned. I would love to hear them!

Until next time,

Ellie

Friends, Romans, countrymen...

Hello!

I realized since posting the first blog that I should have created an introductory blog. (This is where impulsive Ellie to take a step back and think!)

If you have landed on this page, “Welcome”. I hope you gain something from what I say in these pages.

My hope is that this blog will become a community for writers, where we can share our struggles, our successes, our trials and how we overcame, lessons learned, etc. Sharing our thoughts, wisdom and all that jazz would be great.

I am blessed with great friends, but since they’re not writers, they don’t always understand me. As I recall from taking a screenwriting camp some years ago, Hollywood thinks of writers as being a “necessary evil”. That’s fine - I’ve never been too fond of Hollywood anyway!

Here begins the journey. Again, I say, “Welcome”.

Until next time,

Ellie

Writing and the 5 Stages of Grief

I remember sitting on a train on my way to visit my cousin the Greater Toronto Area (“GTA”).  With pen in hand, and a notebook sitting on the unsteady table in front of me, I inhaled, and said (in my inside voice), “I am a writer.”

It was the first time I admitted it to myself.  And, it took me several years to begin to tell random people or to submit my work for publication, let alone share my work with anyone I personally knew. 

The journey toward declaring yourself a writer is like going through the 5 stages of grief and loss.

1.       Denial and isolation

The first stage is the classic denial of who you are, not to mention the voluntary isolation you need in order to write. 

It’s difficult to admit to yourself, let alone anyone else that you are a writer.  People want to know what you’ve published.  And, if you’ve published absolutely nothing, they give you that look.  You know the one that plainly says that you’re not really a writer.  You’ve had nothing published, or if you have had something published, they’ve never heard of it.  Since Hollywood has not come knocking on your door to option your brilliant work of fiction, in their eyes, ‘You delusional weirdo are a nothing, a nobody, a loser.’ 

2.       Anger

This frustration leads to anger.  You become irritable and hard to live with.  So difficult in fact, that your spouse leaves you.  Your children decide to go and live with their father. Your ever patient and faithful dog even runs away from home.

Now you find yourself writing poetry. 

Or worse, you’ve decided to learn how to play guitar and begin to write country songs.

There is hope.  It’s called meditation and classical music.  But who needs that garbage? You rage against the granola eating, tree-hugging, love-peace-and-not-war hippies and throw on some heavy metal until your elderly neighbour calls the police on you.

Then, you limp quietly to the next stage.

3.       Bargaining

Bargaining is my favourite stage. 

You rage at God/the Creator/the universe for making you this way and ask Him to remove the gift he has so graciously bestowed upon you. If you believe in reincarnation, you probably believe you’ve done something completely reprehensible in a past life. 

You weep and wail and tear your clothes, crying out, “Why me, Lord?  What did I ever do to you?” 

Maybe bargaining isn’t my favourite stage.  It gives way to the next stage, where bad habits and addictions are formed.  We are truly on the edge of …

4.       Depression

Writers do not see the world the way others see it.  I think we really see it in all its forms – the good and the bad.  I might even argue that we do not see the world but feel it. And this feeling lends its way nicely with depression.  I say writers do not drink because our lives are so much more difficult than other’s lives. No, we drink because writing is hard.  And feeling is harder.  Forcing yourself to really look inside of you, is horrid.  I mean, why would you torture yourself like this. Most people don’t.  So, some writers turn to the bottle.  (Or, maybe it’s the editing process that turns a teetotaler into a raging alco!)

My favourite part of being a creative person is that I find that I am depressed when I am not writing, and I am depressed when I am writing.  A colleague asked me how they would know the difference.  My response, “You won’t.”

5.       Acceptance

And finally, there is peace or rather resignation in acceptance. 

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamothe helped me see who I truly am. She told us writers not to be concerned about publishing.  She said writer’s write!  We will learn and grow from the process of writing. We will learn nothing from publishing, other than the fact that the book launch will last all of five minutes, only your dearest friends will show up and the critics (if you’re lucky enough for anyone to even know that you have published a book), will tear your beloved work to shreds, ensuring the masses won’t even bother to buy it even if it’s in a one dollar bin (which is where it will likely end up).

It was this sage advice that helped me accept who I truly am – a writer.  This is a fact and is not dependent on anyone’s disappointed reaction to my lack of publishing or anything else for that matter.  What a triumph! 

* It is important to note that writers who are coming to terms with their creative self, do not necessarily go through the stages in the same order or experience all of them.  So, put down the bottle and pick up a pen.