The Giller (And The Giller Light)

A bunch of us publishing types were down at Steam Whistle Brewery’s Roundhouse for the Giller Light party last night. It’s always fun to see people out and about celebrating books. Although I do have to make a confession that up until the very moment before I left for the party, I was obsessively watching Friday Night Lights, which is quite possibly the best show on network television. And then I ducked out right after the announcement was made that Elizabeth Hay had won. I’m waiting for my copy of her book, Late Nights on Air to come in the mail, after reading Kerry Clare‘s recommendation, I had put it high on my ‘want to read list,’ and have been waiting patiently ever since. I enjoyed her previous novel, Garbo Laughs, very much.

Anyway, a friend has saying, “choose tired.” That when you’ve simply got way too much life to live and not enough hours in the day, simply choose to be tired. And it’s going to be that kind of week. School monday, Giller Light Tuesday, Weakerthans Wednesday/Thursday (with a dance class thrown in there), and then I think we’re going up north on Friday so we can close the cottage on Saturday. Crazy.

The light at the end of the tunnel? I have taken next week off to do some research for my book and I’m incredibly excited about it. Day trip to Millbank, Ontario Monday, and then overnight to Stratford to look at the archives on Tuesday.

#71 – So Long A Letter

As I make my way through my Around the World in 52 Books challenge, I’m find that not only are the authors unfamiliar to me, but the history of their countries and their experiences are eye opening as well. Having never been to Senegal, which is a country in Western Africa where the majority of its people are Muslim, the charged words of Mariama Bâ’s So Long A Letter truly brought me into a world I have never experienced.

Told in epistolary format, middle-aged schoolteacher Ramatoulaye writes writes to her oldest friend, Aissatou, after the death of her husband. She struggles through her feelings about the event, which are made more complex by the fact that her husband took a second wife just five years before his death. Heralded for her feminist point of view, the narrative examines the wide differences between men and women in her society. Not just regarding the idea of polygamy, but also in terms of education, jobs and money.

Ramatoulaye is a strong heroine, a mother to twelve children, she’s educated and works as a schoolteacher. The range of emotions she feels, at first when she discovers her husband has married again (no one told her), then when she comes to accept his death, and finally when she moves on with her new, independent life, are the blood of this book. At times the story feels secondary to her more philosophical musing about the curves that life throws, and she’s very keen to urge young women to make their own way in life. In a way, the book is almost a parable to younger Senegalese women who should take Ramatoulaye’s lessons and live accordingly. Which isn’t to say it’s not a successful, albeit short, book. On the whole, it reminded me a little of I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, and I enjoyed reading it.

It had been many years since I’d picked up a copy of a title from Heinemann’s African Writers Series, and I’m glad that my challenge has brought me back. I’m reminded of how I used to seek these books out in the years after I finished my undergrad degree, before life took over and bestseller lists flaunted their accessible yumminess. Regardless, I feel richer for having read Mariama Bâ’s book.

The Reading Room

If one can be ‘in love’ with a virtual place, I might just have to confess my utter adoration of the new Reading Room in the NY Times Books section. I mean, of course, the first book they choose to discuss is War and Peace, which I’ve never read because I have a hard time with the Russians, but just the idea of paying that much attention to the greatness of a book is enough to do it for me.

Truly, the blogging community is one virtual reading room where we have brilliant (if I do say so myself) and opinionated discussions about books everyday, but there’s something just so classy and towering about this new feature that makes me want to dust off my shelves and pull out my RRHB’s beat up copy of War and Peace just so I can see what all the fuss is still about.

The Damned Dollar

The strength of the Canadian dollar continues to cause havoc in the book buying industry. Indigo just let their feelings be know via press release yesterday. I’m not going to lie, when I was in NYC I considered buying a truckload of books that I knew very well I could get in Canada because they were so much cheaper. But then I’d have to carry them and it was a very small plane.

When you can see that a TP (like my copy of The Gathering) is a full $4.00 cheaper ($14.00 vs $18.00), it’s a little upsetting, but when you think about how hard it is for businesses to change, and imagine that there’s no way anyone in the industry could have predicted this would happen so quickly, I tend not to worry about it. It’s only $4.00 and Ben McNally’s worth it.

Yet, it’s not just the fact that I can buy cheaper clothes from JCrew or be annoyed that there’s huge disparity in big ticket items like, well, cars. It’s more the idea that things in general are just worth so much less in the US, and that’s now going to bleed into the way we think about consumption as well. Do we really need all the things we buy? And will we really all run out and buy 10 new cars just because the market’s forcing them to be far less expensive?

I can’t answer those questions. All I can say is that I was a little upset yesterday when I cashed one of my advance cheques and actually lost money for the first time in the history of my relationship with my wonderful publisher. It’s a shame that in a sense we’re watching a civilization in a kind of decline when it comes to the United States. I wonder if that’s what the rest of the world felt like when British colonialism started to crumble? Maybe I’m mistaken, and making huge sweeping generalizations, but perhaps the people on a global scale need to take a step back, take a deep breath, and figure out what’s really important. Maybe the American “Have it All At Any Cost” Dream might just need to be reimagined? Who knows. I’m waxing philosophical for no reason other than the fact that I look out a beautiful glass window on the changing trees in Toronto every morning and wish that it’ll be there for the next generation of girls who have to sit here and contemplate before attending a meeting.

Oh Amazon, Really?

Before reading any further, let me remind everyone about Kate Sutherland’s marvelous All in Together Girls, it’s a book of literary, some linked, some not, short stories that mainly take place in Saskatchewan. The music that gets referenced is mainly of the rock variety. Again, it’s a work of literary fiction.

That said, this might just be the best one yet:

Dear Amazon.ca Customer,

We’ve noticed that customers who have purchased or rated All In Together Girls by Kate Sutherland have also purchased Christmas in the Hood by Nikki Turner. For this reason, you might like to know that Christmas in the Hood is now available. You can order yours at a savings of 32% by following the link below.

Christmas in the Hood Christmas in the Hood
Nikki Turner

List Price: CDN$ 17.95
Price: CDN$ 12.20
You Save: CDN$ 5.75 (32%)

Add to Cart

Book Description
The undisputed queen of hip-hop fiction, #1 Essence bestselling author Nikki Turner unwraps a talented new collection of writers with raw urban stories to jingle your bells this season.

Christmas in the Hood presents fresh talent alongside shining stars such as K. Elliott and Seth “Soul Man” Ferranti–all writing gritty tales that reveal what the holidays bring for the naughty and the nice who live by the code of the street. In “Secret Santa,” after her children’s Christmas presents are stolen, a woman has to decide what she’s willing to sacrifice to give them the holiday they deserve; in “Me and Grandma,” a senior sleighs more crack than candy canes to bring Christmas cheer to … Read more

Two words: Awe. Some.

Confessions Of An Office Nature

Ragdolls are, by their very nature, social beings. They flit, sometimes flirt with either gender just because it’s fun, and chat; they love to chat. They were admonished on almost every single report card for being too chatty. So, if there’s one thing that brings a ragdoll down, it’s loneliness. And while I’ve been talking a lot about this to other people in my life, and as this blog isn’t really of the confessionary sort (see Scarbie, who remains far better at baring her soul than I do), I don’t normally go into too much detail about my personal life.

You never know who might be reading, right?

But today, today I feel the need to share. I’ve got a great work life, don’t get me wrong, but as I left a place where I was constantly surrounded by people I could chat with, people I could goof around with and people I could, well, feel like I’m friends with, I’m feeling a little out of sorts at my new job. It hasn’t really been that long and it’s really not why you’re at work, and I don’t have a negative thing to say about a single person I work with, as they are all lovely, lovely people, it’s just been a long time since I was the ‘new girl.’

High school was particularly traumatic if only because I lost my mom at the beginning of it and simply didn’t recover by the end of it. I caught the crazy disease, and things were slightly insane with my father. So, I decided to go far away to university. Not another province, but as far away as I could get within reason. What a mistake! With the exception of my cousin, again, who is lovely and who saved me more times than I can count when we were at school, I had no friends. I cried a lot, felt strange and awkward, and did a lot of listening to moody music and walking around in combat boots. It’s not until right now that I’ve figured out it’s because I was probably lonely.

That’s another thing about ragdolls: they’re sometimes a bit slow to get to the point.

Here I am again feeling a bit glum, a bit down in the dumps, and I think I’ve put my finger on it: I’m lonely. I miss having a buddy to go to lunch with or grab a cup of tea with, all of those things you do at work with your work friends. I’m sure it’s just a phase, and in a couple of weeks I’ll have turned it all around and found my place here, but for right now, I’m feeling a little like the grade eight girl at the dance who’s standing by herself in the corner rocking back and forth to “Somebody.”

And I don’t expect a chorus of “awwws” (as such from the Smiling Otter’s Writing Group last night) because it’s really not THAT big a deal, it’s just kind of hard when you’d love to talk to someone other than yourself.

Heh.

Alissa York

Having met the charming and winning Alissa York in person a couple of times, I encourage everyone to read this charming and winning interview-slash-blog entry she’s done with Words at Large. I’m consistently fascinated by the process of writing and how different authors approach research. But I absolutely adore how things pop into Alissa York’s mind and then she’s like, “hum, I know nothing about it.” Like bog-living, Bountiful, and all the other flotsam and jetsam that writers come across in their daily lives and think, “that would make a good story.”

I collected an idea like this from The Toronto Star, and ended up writing a short story for my class based on the article the other day. It’s kind of liberating to discover that not every single bit of a story needs to be the product of an amusing muse or an overactive imagination. In my earlier years, I simply wrote exactly what I knew, which wasn’t much. Now, I’m obsessed by the fact that ideas, words, sentences, books, stories, can come from just about anywhere, real or imagined.

Man Asian Literary Prize

I wish these titles were available in English, if only because then I’d have the opportunity to put them on next year’s Around the World in 52 Countries.

But I am encouraged to learn that Smile As They Bow by Burmese author Nu Nu Yi Inwa will be available next fall in translation. Considering the book spent a year being reviewed by Government officials even before publication, it’s lingered long enough behind those kinds of oppressive closed doors, and maybe now the book will reach a wider audience, even if it doesn’t win the coveted prize.

After Burma (or Myanmar, as CBC consistently reminds us, like every single second of every single day) has been so much in the news lately, it would be good to learn more about the country through the voices of its fiction writers. So, I guess it’s already on the list!

TRH Updates – Fall Colours

Yesterday we had a busy time of it as I sped through the day high on the first good night’s sleep I’d had in what felt like weeks. (It’s all lost today though as I barely fell asleep before midnight, tossed, turned, and then woke up at 6 AM without a chance of falling back into slumber). I read a book, got some blogging done, did some homework, read part of the book for my next Harlequin assignment, and then we raced up to Bolton for our niece’s second birthday.

And oh my goodness is she ever cute at two, loving being the centre of attention, she played, cajoled, laughed, and squealed, and said the cutest thing, like, ever. Toward the end of the party, she piped up from her caked-covered high chair and said, “I’d like some coffee.”

Heh.

The leaves are starting to change, and when we came back from the movies last night, there was a definitive chill in the air. The leaves are all changing and falling in piles on the sidewalk, and I’ve almost accepted that summer is truly and definitely over.

That doesn’t mean I won’t miss it, though.

TRH Movie – 30 Days Of Night

Oh, horror of horrors.

Goodness. Regardless of whether or not 30 Days of Night ends up succeeding as a film, which I’m not entirely convinced it does, it sure as heck scared the crap out of me last night in the theatre. Based on the graphic novel by Steve Niles (story) and Ben Templesmith (art), the film takes place in Barrow, Alaska during the winter’s 30 day absence of sunlight. The most northern community in North America, the community hunkers down for the month of darkness when strange acts of violence and odd behaviour start happening.

First, Sheriff Eben Oleson (Josh Hartnett) and his deputy Billy discover a pile of burnt cell phones (everyone’s in town), and then he’s called out to find that someone’s entire pack of sled dogs has been slaughtered. The culprit, a filthy, rotten-toothed stranger, called aptly The Stranger (Ben Foster), rolls up into the local cafe asking for raw hamburger meat when Eben apprehends him. No one knows what’s going on, but nor do they know what’s about to hit them as a league (again is that the right word) of vampires descends upon the town for a feast they’ve never seen the likes of…and it’s as bloody and as horrific as you’d think.

The rest of the film pits a core group of townies against their bloodthirsty enemies led by a frightfully made up Danny Huston; the former trying to stay safe, the later trying to eat them. The vampires, with makeup and prosthetics done by Weta, are ridiculously horrifying, and they all speak some language I didn’t recognize (if anyone knows, please enlighten me) in strange philosophical sentences that sounded more like doctrine than any kind of normal dialogue.

On the whole, the film felt forced in places, and I’m not sure Josh Hartnett, who will live forever in my mind’s eye as the luscious Trip Fontaine, was the right choice for the town sheriff charged with saving his community, his brother and his ex-wife. He’s a little too teary in places, but man, can he ever wield an ax when necessary. Also, as Kate pointed out, there was a whole subplot about his having asthma that seemed contrary to him running all over the place in the dead of winter in Alaska and a) not being out of breath and b) not coughing like a maniac. As a girl who has lived through winter with plenty of disease-induced lung problems, I know of what I speak.

Also, my RRHB, who read the original graphic novel, made a lot out of the fact that the film didn’t do enough with the vampire’s backstory. That by keeping the focus entirely upon the humans in the film, you didn’t get enough of the reasons why they picked Barrow or the in-fighting that apparently went on within the sect once they arrived. And if I’m listing complaints, Ben Foster might need to invent another character other than crazy to play. It seemed a lot like he stepped right off his horse in 3:10 To Yuma, pulled on some boots and a parka, and whipped up the same kind of mental instability he played in the other film. Regardless, he’s an actor who’s got a spark of something that I certainly appreciate, and he did scare the living crap out of me, which I guess was the whole point.

In that sense, to me, whose not a horror movie aficionado by any stretch of the imagination (the last scary movie I saw in the theatre was The Exorcist when it had its anniversary many years ago and afterwards I told the RRHB never again, I was THAT scared), it sure did the trick. There were numerous points during the movie where I had my hands clasped on my lap and was physically shaking because I was so scared. I fell asleep with the light on last night and even when I went to bed I still had to tell myself over and over again that it’s just a movie. So, if you’re looking for bloody, scary fun, it’s not a bad place to spend a few hard-earned dollars, just don’t expect it to be one of the best films you’ll watch all year, because it’s certainly not.

And just one last question, if the film takes place so far north, where are all the Inuit?