Decalogue 2 Book Launch

Hey, look here, my first book launch as a writing mother! rob mclennan included my story "The Beckoning Door" in his latest Ottawa anthology. It's an older story, originally published in Grain, and reading over the proofs the other week, I was reminded how much I like it. Perhaps you'll come and hear me read a snippet if you're in the general vicinity?

span-o (the small press action network - ottawa) & Chaudiere Books present:

the launch of Decalogue 2: ten Ottawa fiction writers
published by Chaudiere Books

Edited by rob mclennan, this collection features the work of
Emily Falvey, Matthew Firth, Gabriela Goliger, Alison Gresik,
John-James Ford, Clare Latremouille, John Lavery, Nadine McInnis,
rob mclennan and Ian Roy.

The ten authors that make up this collection highlight both the range of
style and the strength of writing happening around the current City of
Ottawa, ranging from roughneck prose to lyric exploration to a more
straightforward kind of narrative storytelling. Rather than giving you a
list of authors you've already heard of, this collection focuses on the
works of authors you might not have heard of yet, some of whom have only
recently come up on the national radar. These are not stories for the
faint of heart.

Friday, May 18, 2007; doors at 7pm, readings at 7:30
at The Mercury Lounge, 56 Byward Street (upstairs) in the Market

Coincidences

I have been pondering the significance of the fact that my week's media fast coincided with the Virginia Tech shootings. Because I haven't been reading newspapers, watching TV, listening to the radio, or reading blogs, I know virtually nothing about what happened, except the few things Shawn has mentioned. And I must say, I'm relieved to have been spared the coverage. Do I really need to know all the details of that tragedy?

I think I've been better served this week by taking time to be creative and focusing on what's good in my life. Absorbing the media coverage could only have made me feel sad and upset. Am I dishonouring the people who died in Virginia by not learning their stories and feeling bad for them? I don't know. My feeling bad is not going to help anyone.

I just found out that, by another strange coincidence, next week is TV Turnoff Week (April 23 to 29). So I'm signing myself up for another week of the TV- and Internet-free lifestyle. Who wants to be inside watching the Boob Tube (my mother's favourite pejorative) when the weather has finally turned spring-like here in Ottawa? The real challenge will be to see whether I can get Shawn to join me. Maybe since the Sens just finished their playoff series, I might have a fighting chance ...

The Fear of Disappointment

Last fall, I applied for a couple of writing grants. In the past, my way of dealing with possible rejection has been to forget about the application, to assume I won't be successful. Then if I get the grant, I'm happily surprised, and if not, some of the sting is taken away by the fact that I wasn't really anticipating success anyway.

This time I tried something different. When we got home from China, I remembered that I would be hearing the results of those grant applications within the next month. And I allowed myself to imagine how wonderful it would be to get one or both of the grants. I wouldn't have to look for work! I could spend my days working on the novel while Shawn looked after the baby! I really felt, in my body, the thrill of that possibility.

In imagining myself getting those grants, I had to risk disappointment. I figured that if I let myself want that money, then I faced a real letdown if I didn't get it. But I decided to do it as an experiment.

I enjoyed many happy moments imagining success. I felt the adrenaline of opening the envelope and seeing that my application had been approved. I grinned as I thought of the joy of telling Shawn, knowing that we were taken care of financially and that I had time to write. I prayed about it, but not a "Thy Will Be Done" kind of prayer; I prayed "I would really like to get that money!"

And amazingly, when I received the letters saying that my applications had been denied, I wasn't crushed. Normally when I get a rejection, there are thoughts like "Wasn't I good enough? But I needed this. Doesn't God care about me?" For several days afterward, every time I think about the rejection, I get a sinking, hollow feeling, and I have to push the awareness away.

This time was totally different. The rejection passed right through me like air, as though it couldn't get a grip on my happy mind and body. Negative thoughts were entirely absent. I went upstairs to tell Shawn, and he gave me a hug, and I didn't even feel in need of comfort, I just enjoyed the hug. I realized that I'm getting closer to being happy no matter what my circumstances. And if I had done the usual and ignored the desire, I would have missed out on the pleasure of longing.

The same week my grant application was turned down? Three job prospects came through. I've got work. We're taken care of financially. I'm almost as excited about that as I would have been about getting a grant. And the disappointment I feared has evaporated.

Withdrawal

So, what have done in lieu of reading and watching television in the last twenty-four hours?

• Nap
• Clean my office
• Edit home videos
• A smidgen of writing

I especially miss reading when I'm doing something else that doesn't require my full attention, like eating. Although perhaps that's a sign that I could be putting more focus on what I'm doing in the moment, rather than distracting myself. I also miss having a change of state when I'm tired or sore from being at the computer. After dinner I was too tired to write or do anything, and I normally would have watched some TV then. Instead I had a nap, so that was no more productive than TV! Less productive, in fact, because at least I would have knit while I was watching TV.

I haven't given up my audiobooks, by the way. At least I still have that diversion while I'm folding laundry!

I have pretty much stopped listening to the radio since we moved our bedroom upstairs in January. I used to have CBC on whenever I was in my bedroom, or in the kitchen. But now the signal is not very good upstairs, and our stereo was getting repaired so I couldn't listen in the kitchen, and I got out of the habit. I also enjoyed being news-free while we were in China, and I haven't felt the urge to go back. I enjoy the light feeling of being unencumbered by tragic stories and political wranglings. We used to wake up listening to the news, and I don't think that's the healthiest thing for an impressionable, half-asleep consciousness.

I know I'm missing some great radio; I love the CBC and not all of it is a downer. But now that I think of it, I started the news boycott when the Robert Pickton trial coverage began. I didn't want any of that story in my head. So for a season, I'm happy with radio silence.

What Have I Done?

I just joined Andrea's "plan to temporarily de-media myself."

It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. But I've gotten work (yay!) and I know I'll be happier if my spare time is spent being creative rather than consumptive.

I also checked to make sure none of my library books are due back before the media fast is up. Can I really give up reading for a whole week? I don't think I've gone a day without reading since ... well, since I learned to read?!

Email Armistice

I have a love/hate relationship with email. I love that it lets me stay in touch, instantly, with a wide range of family and friends and business associates. But something about my introversion and resistance to perceived demands means that I'm not always in the mood to reply when people write. So messages pile up and I feel too guilty to delete them but too scared or cantankerous to answer them. I don't want my correspondents to think I'm rude if I don't send back an equally detailed reply, so I often don't reply at all.

The whole becoming-a-parent period has really done a number on my inbox. I now have 472 messages that I need to take action on or file, plus another 95 messages that need action in an DMZ folder, plus all the messages from our time in China on the laptop that I want to save in some format.

I need to declare an armistice with my email before it rises up to overthrow me in a nonviolent coup.

So today, as quickly as possible, I'll run through my email deleting what I don't need. At the same time I'll archive what I want to save (I use this GTD system on Thunderbird, so all I have to do is hit "2" to archive something. No manual filing into various folders.) And I'll also mark everything that needs action (again, I just have to hit "3" for Action Required and "4" for Reply Required). I'm also going to unsubscribe from as many email newsletters as I can.

Then I'll move the actionable emails into separate folders, and tackle those in 15 minute increments over the next week. That should leave my inbox blissfully empty! Then the challenge is to keep it that way, by dealing with messages as they come in instead of allowing them to accumulate and overwhelm me.

Update: Well, that took a few hours. Now I have 85 emails that require action, and 33 that require a reply. And an empty inbox! Hoorah.