The Year of Unmasking

Ah, 2020.

So much mis- [ and dis!]-information! And still so much truth remains unknown. So much has been conveniently hidden. Masked.
Let me give you an example. Yesterday I learned the street I lived on in Toronto was named for a ruthless slave trader. What a shocking revelation for a very exclusive Canadian neighbourhood!
So now that city officials have that knowledge, what will they do with it? Change the name entirely? Leave things as is? Put up an educational plaque to remind people of a dark and cruel part of Muddy York’s history? We’ll have to see. Meantime, for a murder mystery, what a great motive. Imagine a respectable leader of the community learning the family’s fortune has been based on slave-trading. What would that person do to keep that knowledge form being widely spread? And on the other side, how tempting it might be for someone to try and blackmail the respectable citizen! Another motive!
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The Curve Ball

I’ve heard about the Curve Ball being delivered by famous pitchers to equally famous sluggers. Some people watch baseball games just to see it thrown. Apparently, you have to be ‘really good’ to throw it and ‘even better’ to hit it. Why World Series Pennants have been won or lost because of it.

            Now each and every one of us get to check our own score at dealing with the Curve Ball that was thrown into our personal game of life. Mine arrived on March 10, 2020 when the Canadian Government said don’t leave the country. Poof, the vacation to Cuba vanished. Two weeks later I was told to shut down my private practice in psychology. Poof, done! Then my three times a week fitness routine ended. No more socializing with my friends and family. My arm and shoulder began aching from all the ‘woe is me’ commiseration phone calls. Traffic ground to a halt. Virtually everyone in my neighbourhood actually listened to the guidance and abided by the rules. Those that didn’t were easy enough to avoid. 

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Ready to re-write? Not so fast: You may need to go back to the drawing board.

After the first draft, my next struggle is reading it. I cringe at my bad writing and wonder if I should just throw-in the towel right there. What kind of writer could I possible be to write such dreck? So much telling! So little showing. Ugh. I’m embarrassed for myself.

But then I remember editing, that’s where it all gets fixed. And truth be told, I like editing the best. That’s where the wordplay really comes in. I love the challenge of taking a clunky phrase and turning it into a Cinderella sentence. And often, it’s easier than it looks. Except when it isn’t.

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My short story journey into Nefariam

Several years ago, I wrote a blog for this site about things I found during a summer day to inspire my writing:  https://ascribewriters.com/summer-time-to-be-inspired/ One of the inspirations was a visit to the Keady market and observing the live animal auction. I began to imagine a dragon auction and what it would be like, who would come to such an auction, would it be dangerous? This idea floated in my head and although I loved the idea, I could not fit it into my current fantasy book. It was nothing more than a scene with no characters or plot yet.

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Press On Writers!

Everyone’s path to publication is different. We’ve all seen the success stories–author’s publication tales–tweeted out to the world, where an author shares their journey to publication. I like to think of it as the Chilkoot Trail during the Klondike Gold Rush.

Some adventurers make it over the pass, find a parcel of land, strike gold, make it rich and head home. I’m not naïve enough to think they didn’t sacrifice and work hard and have in equal measure talent and good fortune, but that isn’t every prospector’s story.

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Books in the Time of Covid

The Covid-19 pandemic has stripped away the veneer of convenience, has altered what is important to many of us. One of those things that has become even MORE important to people like me during Covid is the reading of books.

Reading is the perfect escape from the stress of the pandemic, but the irony is that bookstores and libraries were closed for months, and online ordering was (is) as slow as the Pony Express.

This is where my Little Free Library comes in.

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A Grateful Activist

In spite of these uncertain times, I am beyond grateful for so much; to live in rural Ontario, to have enough hand sanitizer to share and for virtual goodnight visits with my grandson. I am grateful too for this moment in history as we witness the world on the cusp of, what I have to believe will be, radical social change.

Hardship has not been part of my own experience of the pandemic. Inconvenience, yes. There have been brief bouts of panic, fear, emotional ups and downs and worry about family certainly. But being able to connect through technology with a small but mighty circle of dear ones has kept me afloat. I have been able to work while quarantining and have a two-person isolation bubble and a full cupboard. These are but a few examples of how my privilege enables me to weather this storm unscathed thus far.

Hardship and heartache are indeed the experiences of so many people world wide and we recognize the roles that inequality, oppression and poverty play in countries’ varying abilities to fight this common enemy. 

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