Just Keep Swimming, Again

It’s now well and truly into 2021, dear readers, and we’re still here! But wait…where is the new and shining not-2020-anymore we were promised? Politics has settled down, that’s huge. But the pandemic just keeps throwing new curveballs our way, winter is still happening, we still can’t travel or even (depending on where you are) socialize in person. It’s tough being human in this environment, and unfortunately for our devoted fans, writers are also humans. Writing has gotten much harder for many of us. Unfortunately for our loved ones, we’re happier and less neurotic when we’re able to write. But being sad or anxious or stressed makes it harder to write…you can see the problem. Seems like every year around this time, I blog about going back to writerly basics: write the smallest amount possible, write something fun, trick the brain into being creative again. In November, three of us wrote 100 words a day. In December, I did it again. 6000 words in two months is not a lot, but it was the best I’d managed all year. It was going so well that for January, I decided to inch the goal up to 4000 words. Then, of course, January knocked the wind out of me, as it always does. I wrote zero words of fiction. I did, however, determinedly do a lot of brainstorming and planning for my novel in progress. (I had hit my usual wall of just-under-20K where the beginning fizzles out and I realize I…

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Christmas Looks A Lot Different This Year

…but that’s okay. I am actually feeling a bit relieved. Don’t get me wrong now. I love everything about Christmas — buying gifts, the food, spending time with my loved ones, making memories…but it can be stressful. And this year, with COVID happening and my health being wonky and work being crazy…it’s been really hard to get into the spirit. I am in the spirit, for the most part. I’m excited. 🙂 I’m going to be finishing up my wrapping tonight, and I am excited to see everyone open their gifts on Christmas morning. We’re having a FaceTime gift opening with our in-laws instead of seeing them. We will miss them, but this is for the best, especially with this new COVID variant on the loose and most likely here in the States. Scary stuff! But at least with FaceTime the unwrapping will be in real time and it’ll be close to being together. (That was my idea if you couldn’t tell!). Our dinner will be a bit scaled down, as was Thanksgiving, and that’s fine. Again, it’s just a lot of work, and there’s just three of us eating it this year, so we figured we’d make less. But the menu is no less amazing! It’ll be yummy! But less work which is great, as my mom and I are not spring chickens anymore and could use a break. It’ll be quieter and less crazy, but perhaps we needed that. Every year lately has felt like a rat race…

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No Fluff, Just Stuff.

I’ve been struggling with finding a subject for today’s post, and I still don’t have one. I didn’t want to wait too long, because given the way my brain has been lately, I’d probably forget to post. And I did that recently, and I didn’t notice until the following month, and I felt like a Bad Writer for forgetting to post her monthly blog. So. I could talk about COVID-19. We’re in the second wave here in Michigan, and our governor/health department just scaled us back again. We’re not on full lockdown yet, but that is coming if things don’t improve. Our case numbers are higher than they were in March when we had our first lockdown. People aren’t masking up or following protocols and it’s hurting everyone. Today when we went to the vet to get our cat fluids, we saw an older man approach the vet doors without a mask on. I approached, keeping my distance (because that’s what you’re supposed to do), and he took off. I think he felt my dirty look through my mask, or maybe my fury was coming off me in waves. Or maybe he had to leave. I dunno. But I was relieved because I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. And that sucks. We’ve been reduced to running away from our fellow man because he or she might be infected and we do not want to get sick. Never dreamed I’d ever be doing that in my lifetime. It feels…

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Comfort Everything

Apropos of nothing at all, I’m going to share some of the things that have gotten me through this year so far, the things I turn to when I really need a pick-me-up. Virtual concerts. Since touring isn’t an option for musicians right now, a lot of them are doing virtual concerts…which means I get to enjoy tons of live music that I’d never hear otherwise. It doesn’t make up for not having contra dance (which almost always has live music), but it helps. My favourite has been a weekly series of old-time/trad/folk music concerts (fiddle, mandolin, guitar, piano, sometimes banjo, sometimes singing) by dynamic duo Jay Ungar and Molly Mason on Facebook. The two of them have a calming presence and a rapport that’s a joy to watch. Here’s their Halloween special. Another new discovery is an a capella group called Windborne. Online chats. I generally prefer text chat over video chat, maybe because I’ve been doing it so long (since the 90s on Yahoo!). There’s been an ongoing chat with some of my dance friends, where we dip in and out to share our struggles (and boy have there been struggles) and our joys. I have an extrovert friend who (bless her) will periodically poke me on chat to see how I’m doing, and she keeps doing it even though I rarely initiate. And I’ve mentioned before how our regular Turtleduck Press chats are keeping me grounded. Comfort reading. One doesn’t become an author without madly loving books,…

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COVID: What does the Tarot say?

So, I’ve been doing a lot of Tarot reading lately. I used to read way back in my twenties, but went on a long hiatus, and then started back up again recently when I started collecting Tarot decks again. And naturally, I began reading again. And I am feeling rusty, so I’ve been doing a lot of practicing. And I wanted to incorporate a short, simple Tarot ritual into my every day life. So I’ve been doing Daily Draws — and that’s exactly what it sounds like. You draw one card for your day — in my case, for guidance or advice — and make a note. I have a planner that I make my notes in. I try not to look up the standard meanings and try to interpret the cards in my own way. You’re not really supposed to rely on the standard meanings, anyway, technically. But you totally can if you want — there’s no wrong way to read the Tarot. I’ve been pulling cards for other reasons as well, for advice on various things, for writing questions, etc. I did a reading with a brand new, very artsy deck to figure out the ending of The Vanishing, Reaper Girl Chronicles #3, which I am revising. As per my usual process, I didn’t actually write the ending because I did not know it. Which is why I did the reading. It was very, very insightful and quite awesome. The Tarot, at least for me, has been very…

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The Little Things

It’s Week Twenty since everything shut down here in Toronto. We’re still tiptoeing towards reopening…as a city, that is. Personally, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. As I’ve written before, I’m finding the pandemic hard to deal with, even if my personal situation is about as lucky as it’s possible to be. I mean, it’s a freaking PANDEMIC (with a side of dumpster fire). Hard not to be glued to the news; hard to find equanimity. My job has also been really intense for just about the same length of time, meaning I haven’t been getting a chance to rest or process the torrent of news. Still, there are things that are helping, a bit. Here are a few of them… Sunsets. My home office (where I both work and play) faces west, with a fairly unobstructed view. When the sky starts to change colour, I try to remember to stop what I’m doing and watch. We’ve had some gorgeous sunsets this summer…or maybe it’s just that I’m noticing them more. Duolingo. I started using this language-learning app back in November, to brush up on my university Norwegian…for a family trip we were going to take to Norway this summer. Obviously the trip didn’t happen, but I’m over 240 days in and still going. (I have missed a day here and there, but Duo lets you accumulate points that you can use if you skip a day, so my streak looks unbroken.) I’m really enjoying learning a language again, and…

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More Fluff: Bad Poetry Project

To continue the “fluff posts” I’ve been writing for the past few months, I wanted to talk in further depth about the “bad poetry” I’ve been writing. Last time I mentioned it, I hadn’t actually started writing it yet. I’d been contemplating it, because I wanted to get back into writing poetry again without the pressure of writing perfect prose, the perfect turns of phrase, the perfect imagery. I was (and still am, to be honest) scared to write “wrong” that I wasn’t writing at all. But what is “wrong,” really? A poem is simply a feeling, imagery, an idea, put into some kind of verse (or non-verse), right? There’s really no wrong way to write it, technically. Sure, there’s rough poetry, and there’s awkward writing of beginners who need to hone their craft —like yours truly once did once upon a time—but usually it’s not “bad” per se. But calling my poetry now “bad poetry” gave me the freedom to play. I actually write at the top of every document “Bad poem” and the date. Really! Because that told me and my brain/muse that this was just pretend, I’m playing right now, it’s not a big deal, it doesn’t have to be pretty…and it set me free. Granted, these poems aren’t great literature. They probably wouldn’t win any awards. They might be publishable with some massaging. (Which I am considering). But it’s been fun, and it’s helping me keep my hand in creativity during this time when I am…

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Week Sixteen

Following on KD’s post from last time, here’s an update on the state of me… It’s Week Sixteen since everything shut down here. My part of the world is doing well (according to our top scientists) and a gradual reopening is underway, but our case numbers are far from zero, so I’m continuing to behave as if it isn’t. Going into places of business makes me really anxious, even though I wear a mask and am careful about hand hygiene. So no restaurant patios, minimal public transit use, and I haven’t been more than a ten-minute walk from home in I don’t know how long. As an introvert and highly sensitive person, I’m perfectly happy not going downtown to work three or four days a week – I used to crave being at home more, and the traffic noises and public transit annoyances used to wear on my nerves. (I’m very lucky in being able to ride out COVID: homeowner, my own home office, able to work remotely, no kids, so-so AC, plenty of green space in the backyard.) I’m also reasonably happy keeping in touch with friends online. (I have dear friends I’ve never met, including the other three members of Turtleduck Press.) But I haven’t been doing a good job of *actually* keeping in touch. All the suffering right now is very hard to bear, plus I miss contra dance (and contra hugs) a lot…so I’ve kind of withdrawn from peopling. Still having trouble finding words, too. I…

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Week Seven

We’re into Week Seven of pandemic life here in Toronto. More than that if you count the weeks of constant hand sanitizing, before schools closed and most workplaces were declared non-essential. I’m counting from when my workplace told us to start working from home full-time, and I started living my best life as a hermit. Okay, I’m kidding about that last part. The stress is taking its toll. My will-power and short-term memory are shot. Keeping the kitchen stocked with groceries is taking way too many brain cycles. I’m turning inward – I keep needing naps at odd times, I don’t want to talk to people (except my spouse, he’s allowed…), and going outside for walks is too much effort (though to be fair, we’ve had a cold and miserable spring). Yet I have no desire to watch TV, and I’m having trouble concentrating on books (!). And no, I am definitely not spending this time learning new skills or reorganizing my house. I live with many of these symptoms from depression, but I don’t think I’m depressed now. I think it’s just freakin’ hard to live through a world-altering era of massive uncertainty. (And that’s even with all the privilege I have: I’m not an essential worker, I haven’t been laid off, my workplace is set up to allow us to work from home (just in the last few years…how timely is that?!), I don’t have kids, my home is big enough that my spouse and I and his…

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Life in the Time of Pandemics

One month ago, I was in here writing about imperfect friendships. Then the world entered a time warp called COVID-19, and ten years later, here I am again. What a surreal month it’s been, and from all accounts, things are going to get less like reality before they settle down into…well, whatever our new normal is, anyway. Last month, I was gloating about having had four weekends of contra dance in a row. I didn’t know then that our Leap Day dance would be our last for the foreseeable future, or that I would soon be really glad I decided to attend that dance weekend in February again. (For one thing, I bought a twirly skirt that weekend and wore it to one dance before everything ended. It’s the only contra dance skirt I can stand to wear right now. It cheers me up because it’s teal with purple patterns and swishes beautifully when I walk, but it’s not loaded with memories like my other skirts.) Four weeks ago, the dance organizing committee I’m on was debating whether it would be smart to cancel our March 14 dance. We could see what was coming, but hoped we could squeeze in one last event. But I’m glad we didn’t know we were saying goodbye on February 29…it would have been too sad. Three and a half weeks ago, all the schools here in Ontario closed, and we knew we had no choice but to cancel the entire rest of the dance…

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