Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Some Sun, Finally

 You know, sometimes I forget my apartment can look like this. Everything's been so dark and damp lately.

It doesn't help that, despite the mild climate, this is the farthest north I've ever lived. These photos have a time stamp of 5:00 for example, but that can't be because it's usually long dark by then.
 The sun came out yesterday and I took a picture of the mountains on my way to get a bottle of wine. You couldn't see them all, but it's more than has been visible in a while. Turns out this has nothing on today. These clouds dropped a bunch of snow and left.

I actually wrote some new stuff today, but only because I've been thinking something over that I can't make a big deal about until I have a bit more information. You know, one of those decisions I want to make on my own. TEASER!

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Good Week for Gifts

 Last week was great for generous industry guests and relatives. First, Robert McCullough came by to talk about Appetite, and brought along enough free copies for everyone. Wanted Smitten Kitchen, but so did the three people who got to the from of the room before I did. Epicurious is just fine too.
 Lara Smith from D&M came by to talk about production editing, and brought enough dummies that I took home the fanciest one. Maybe I should have left it in case the dimensions matched someone else's project, but I have never been so excited to have a book with nothing in it.

 I'm trying to decide whether I should get everyone to write in it or I should keep it pristine forever. Tough call.

More importantly, a lovely card from one of my two favourite brothers, with something special inside that allows me to do just what the card says!

 And last but not least, a wonderfully meta Canadian magazine.

So of course this calls for a present to myself: on personal recommendation from the gents at the Harbour Centre BCLiquor, where maybe I'm becoming too much of a regular customer.

Monday, November 12, 2012

I Have Longed to Move Away

Discussed in the Paris Review

Dylan Thomas has always known how to put it.

I Have Longed to Move Away
I have longed to move away
From the hissing of the spent lie
And the old terror’s continual cry
Growing more terrible as the day
Goes over the hill and into the deep sea;
I have longed to move away
From the repetition of salutes,
For there are ghosts in the air
And ghostly echoes on paper,
And the thunder of calls and notes.

I have longed to move away but am afraid;
Some life, yet unspent, might explode
Out of the old lie burning on the ground,
And, crackling into the air, leave me half-blind.
Neither by night’s ancient fear,
The parting of hat from hair,
Lips pursed at the receiver,
Shall I fall to death’s feather.
By these I would not care to die,
Half convention and half lie.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012


Good news for friendly neighbours, and a happy birthday to MomBlom!

In this house:
 I'm almost finished my neckwarmer! Unfortunately I ran out of the teal yarn, so I've had to continue in the light green. I'm working on it in such a way as to make it look intentional. I hope.

 Mostly what I've been working on is the book project for MPub! Here are some lovely catalogue pages that I didn't design! Or write the copy for! But I did write copy for a different title, I just didn't present it so don't have those pages on me. They look pretty much the same though because, you know, unity and consistency and all that.
 I think it looks pretty professional, myself. We have a website! Check it out! There's not much to check out, but the fact that it actually exists is pretty fantastic.

And of course, my secret project. Which admittedly has fallen by the wayside a bit. I realize that the lighting in my bedroom is terrible (something I'm trying to remedy) and that the colours look awfully bland, but aside from being a bit Crown Royal-esque, they're very rich, and the yarn is very soft.

The stripes aren't all the same width, but they do follow a pattern. Again, "intentional."

Thursday, November 1, 2012


Truth number one: Sometimes I wish I could get my boyfriend to try beard products. It's not like there's anything wrong with his beard (it's quite nice), and I don't know what beard oil does exactly, and he'd certainly never go for it. But still, my instincts say it's a good idea. The same instincts, however, that make me want to dress my dog in tuxedo and name my unborn children after obscure post-modern literatary characters.

Truth number two: About 7 and a half years ago, when my dad was in the middle of writing a journal/sitcom/novel/memoir about himself and his brothers and sisters, he found out he was sick. Very sick. It doesn't take a lot of imagination to see why his records of all the hilarious conversations over the last 50-something years suddenly turned to more serious topics. After breaking the news to his family and colleagues, and after his first round of chemo, he wrote the first draft of his eulogy. This was years before he died, and in the meantime he got healthy enough that he must have destroyed the file: too morbid, or something. My confession? I came across it, and read the whole thing. No, not the whole thing. I skimmed it for my name.

Truth number three: I dunno, those were pretty honest right there.

Nothing is visually exciting this week. I've been working on some fake pages for a graphic novel Emily Carroll is doing for our simulation publishing company, but I can't put those up for fear of some sort of copyright backlash.