Just got back from a walk in the wintery white of old St. John's. It's our second storm in a couple of days, and, amazingly, I'm not sick of it yet--even though the power went out for a few hours Sunday night. Not so bad really, as I remember some of the worst power outages this province has ever seen. Even then, it was fun. Cold, but fun. Strange how it always seems to happen around exam time for MUN students that the power goes out for anywhere from a few hours to a few days, depending on the severity of it.
It's been a day of writing. I'm working on a new gothic novel called Emily Dickinson's Ghost, which is taking on some pretty serious and sinister undertones and overtones. But I decided also to dust off a work I've had in progress for a couple of years now, a holiday-themed novel called Keeping Christmas. It's about halfways done and I just re-read it this morning. It's probably about the funniest thing I've ever written (of course, with some of the usual dark humour), so I think I should just keep working on it. I've already had a publisher interested in it, so I guess those are the ones I should finish. So now I'm working on two novels at once--one in the daytime and one in the night time. Very Jekyll and Hyde of me, I suppose.
As for my previous novel, Darwin Day, it's now in the hands of an editor, so we'll see. I've had a couple of passes from literary agents on this one, but that's not surprising. It's not what I would call a "big" novel; it's not the one that's going to make anyone's career, but it's a story I wanted to tell, so it had to be done. But it's definitely worth publishing, so I'm taking a different tact by approaching publishers instead of agents. But I'm doing it one at a time for now because that's what they prefer. It's a slow process, but I pass the time by working on something new.
Speaking of which, I don't think I've mentioned on here that my short story, "Break, Break, Break" is going to be published in an upcoming anthology of dark fiction by Hard Ticket Press. The story takes place on February 13, 1982--a horrible day in our province's history in the fictional town of Darwin, where a lot of my stories take place, and concerns a teenaged girl who breaks up with her boyfriend on Valentine's, the night before the Ocean Ranger sinks. I never thought I'd write anything about the Ranger, but I got inspired one night last summer when the editor, Mike Heffernan, asked if I'd ever considered writing about it. My immediate reaction was to say no. But that night I tossed and turned all night while I kept (swear to God that this is how it works sometimes) hearing these two voices in my head--a mother and a daughter, and they were saying these things to each other that frightened me, but I felt like I was eavesdropping. It was stormy, in my dreams, and I knew it was because I'd been thinking about Mike's suggestion. Anyway, I didn't sleep at all that night, and when I got up the next morning, I sat at the computer right away and emerged from my den about two and a half hours later with a completed story, some of which came straight from my dream. I wish it happened like that more often. I sent it off to the editor and he accepted it almost immediately, with some revisions of course, though not too many, which is always nice.
I'm thrilled to be a part of that anthology because there are lots of other really good authors in there, including Michael Crummey, Michelle Butler-Hallett, JoAnne Soper-Cook, and Bev Vincent. I've also agreed to write a stage play based on "Break, Break, Break," to be produced (possibly at the LSPU Hall) next February, as part of a six-part series of one-act plays all dealing with the Ocean Ranger. That's another reason I'm proud of that story--because it's about a very important subject that humanizes the tragedy a little, underscoring the devestating effects that it had on certain people. I can't say that I know for sure what that felt like for those people, to have lost someone so quickly like that. But I've known tragedy in my life that I was able to draw on. And the Ranger tragedy affects us all, even today, even younger generations, even if they weren't born when the rig went down off our coast.
Anyway, that's where I'm at right now. It kind of puts things in perspective. I've been out for a walk on a stormy day and I was able to enjoy it completely. I love that I'm still able to feel exhilirated by little things like that and maybe even put those feelings to words when I feel driven to do so. It's part of what being a writer is all about, but it's also what being human and reveling in life's little pleasures is all about. Reminds me a bit of that old chestnut, "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost. I still love that poem and that's why I teach it in my first-year English classes whenever I can--to show that there is complexity sometimes in the apparent simplicity. That there can be clarity in the midst of chaos.
That sometimes you've just got to stop and take a breath when you can least afford to do so, on the "darkest evening of the year".
Anyway, got work to do. Hope you're enjoying whatever you're doing, even if that's writing exams or meeting deadlines. We only pass this way once, and it's the in-between times that really are the best times. Nobody sick, nobody dying. All's right with my world.
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