BookLust

BiblioQueria 19

Remember that little book I wrote and illustrated a while back, the one my literary agent has been trying to get published? Well, sorry, still no good news to report. I think it has now been rejected by 6 publishers to date. Very frustrating. Even more frustrating is the fact that on two occasions it was a 'close but no cigar' situation, in which some editors loved the project, but unless everyone is on board, it just ain't gonna fly. And this is even after I did a rewrite on this sucker, which at first I wasn't thrilled about, but in hindsight, I think it does add another dimension to the project. But let's be sure about something – this little book idea is no magnum opus, ok? Just a light-hearted, hopefully witty, and hopefully fun read.

Anyway, from what I understand about this whole process, part of the problem with my project is that the bigger publishers are hesitant to pick it up because let's face it, I'm not Dan Brown or Candace Bushnell, and they cannot be assured that this book is going to pull in a lot of cash. It is beginning to look like I will have a slightly better chance at getting published by a smaller publisher, who is perhaps more willing to take a risk on a nobody like me. What makes me so sure about this? Because not too long ago I was approached by a small publisher in NY to write and illustrate another little gift book idea. So it looks like I will be getting published after all, just not with my original idea (yet, anyway!) I'm just waiting for various contracts to be signed, and then the deed is done, and the real work begins (actually, I'm already working on the project, because I'm very neurotic and paranoid about staying ahead of deadlines). I'll go into further detail about the project, once those lovely contracts have been signed. I'm trying to be calm about this whole thing, but in truth, it's very exciting, especially having my agent negotiating my first book deal. I know it's silly, but it makes me feel so great!

So it got me wondering about a few things. Why do I have this need, this desire, ok, this obsession to be published? What are my motivations for getting my work in print? I've already had my illustrations published in books (and there will be some book illustration projects coming up in the near future, which I will discuss down the road), so why isn't that enough to satisfy me? I want to have both my words and my illustrations in print. I want the entire project to be mine, right down to the last brush stroke and the last comma. So let's face it. It's not just a desire to share my creative energies with the world, it's definitely an ego thing. I admit it. I want to walk into a bookstore, and see my book on a shelf, waiting to be bought by another book luster. But it's not just ego which motivates me in this direction. I love words, and I admire people who can take all the letters of the alphabet, jumble them up and create something utterly magical. I want to be able to do that, too! For me, writers are magicians, and I see myself as The Sorcerer's Apprentice, fumbling and bumbling around, screwing with the broomsticks because I don't quite understand how to use the magic. But I'll keep trying, and maybe one day I won't cause a massive flood while fetching the water.

And so, after all my blathering, my questions to you are ....

Do you want to be published, too? And if yes, why?

I Got Posted 13

Oy. I've got deadlines up the wazoo, but there is no way I'm gonna turn down an illo job for the National Post, no matter how busy I am. Here's a larger version of the final illo.

Note that I said final illo. This time around, I thought I'd also show you the original rough I sent off to the editor for approval before colouring. Most of the time I get it right the first time 'round when sending off a rough; I think I'm pretty good at figuring out what the focus of the story is, what would be visually appealing, and well, I work pretty damn fast under an often very tight deadline. Most of the time I only have a couple of hours to whip something out. And unfortunately, this time 'round I didn't get the rough sketch right, the first time at bat. The article, written by Eve Fairbanks, is about one of the biggest conservative dating services on the Web, called ConservativeMatch. So I thought to myself, how the hell do I communicate in an illustration that a couple on a date are both Conservatives? So I thought, why not make them well-known Conservatives, so it will be obvious to all who read the paper. So as you can see in the rough sketch below the final, I had Ann Coulter making goo-goo eyes at Bill O'Reilly. They're both single, aren't they? And even the lowest form of human beings on the planet need love, right? Well, long story short, the editor nixed the illo, said it was too Americanized for a Canadian paper, and that not everyone who read the article would know who these two people are. (I'm not sure I believe that, but, whatever). So I had to opt for a tamer version, with elements that were mentioned in the article. Oh well!

Actually, the more I think about Ann Coulter getting it on with Bill O'Reilly, the more I wanna toss my cookies. Ewwwwwww.

UPDATE:
For those confused as to why a Conservative woman would be reading Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, I'll enclose a section of the article:

The women on ConservativeMatch – at least the women of Washington, Virginia – are both much rarer and more quintessentially "conservative" than the men are. Out of the 40 profiles I considered, only 10 were women. Several of these described themselves as "simple," even "prudish" girls with "old-school" values, looking for a "manly" or "boy scout" sort of guy. ("He must not smoke, cuss, or spit.") All 10 were seriously practicing Christians, and only one disagreed that sex outside of marriage is immoral. Favorite books included Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice (or, as one put it, "anything from 18th century England").

Beautiful Bookish Burt

Sigh.

The Swimmer

Took a break from working tonight to watch a movie. Have you seen The Swimmer? Mesmerising. Haunting. One that lingers inside your head long after the movie is over. Burt Lancaster is, as always, amazing (and quite delicious to watch). Mr. Lancaster has always been one of my most favourite actors. Definitely one of a kind.

The film is based on a short story, written by John Cheever, which I have yet to read. The hubby had read the story and seen the movie, and had mentioned both, off and on over the years, so when I realized the movie was on TVO tonight, I knew I had to see it. Of course now I can't sleep; keep thinking about the damn movie, and Burt Lancaster's exquisite form.

Sigh.

I Got Posted 12

My latest National Post illo. Here's a slightly larger version.

From the article, written by Brenda Cossman, Professor of Law, University of Toronto:

In recent years, anxiety over adultery is making a comeback. From self help books to Dr. Phil shows, Hollywood movies to television serials, popular culture is filled with morality tales about the costs of infidelity. The message is a simple one: don't do it. The risk of infidelity is everywhere, and couples must work to protect their marriages. Because if they don't, if they give in to the temptation of infidelity, they will unleash an almost unstoppable wave of relationship destruction. They will become a divorce statistic.

The Supreme Court of Canada has joined the fray. In its recent ruling, the Court held that Sherry Leskun should continue to receive spousal support payments from her cheating ex-husband because she was too emotionally devastated by his conduct to return to work. The Court said that the 1985 Divorce Act eliminated misconduct as a relevant consideration in spousal support. It insisted that misconduct not be allowed to "creep back in." But, the Court also said that there is a difference between misconduct and the emotional consequences of that misconduct. In its view, these consequences might be relevant to a spouse's ability to become self sufficient.

It's one thing for the infidelity experts to tell folks not to head down the infidelity road. It's altogether different for the law to punish spouses who do. That's about the return of retribution. That's about the law deciding that the cheater should not just get away with destroying their spouse's life; he (or she) should have to pay.

Family law got out of the fault business because it was too ugly and too difficult to prove who did what to whom. In the aftermath of the Supreme Court ruling, it has been invited right back into this heart of darkness. Adultery and retribution are marching back, hand in hand, from legal exile.

Hmmm... well, in my opinion, the 'emotionally devastated' argument doesn't really hold water. I would prefer that payment to the suffering ex-spouse be based on years spent with the cheating ex-spouse, contributing to the family, relationship and home. It just seems a no-brainer to me that yes, getting cheated on is emotionally devastating. So's a lot of things in life. Should we all be lining up in the courts, demanding financial retribution for the inescapable lot in all our lives – human suffering? I think not. But then again, I've never been divorced.

So all you potential cheaters out there, take heed, 'cuz the long arm of the law is waiting in the wings, ready to smack you down.

Pet Shop Joys

Another illo for wHaggle.com! One of the many jobs that have been keeping me very busy of late. Here's a larger version.

How many kinds of pets have you had from this picture? Me, let's see.... I've had fish, turtles, hamsters, rats (yes, rats), guinea pigs, rabbits and cats. Never had a dog. I've love to own a pug, but the hubby says it's not fair to the cats, and besides, he doesn't like pugs. How can you not like pugs? They're so ugly, they're cute.

And regarding the whole rats as pets thing, trust me, they make amazing pets. One of the smartest, cleanest creatures out there. We had oodles of them when we were kids. My mom even wrote a little children's story for one of her library courses years ago, about how a family very similar to ours, decided to get rats as pets, because the youngest child (ahem, moi) had terrible allergies, so rats were the only viable option. My sister illustrated the book. It was called Ben, Rachel, Timothy and Piglet. Those were the actual names of the one family of rats we had. Cute, huh?

I seriously don't get this thing with women who are terrifief of rats and other little rodents. All this screaming and screeching and quivering and jumping up on chairs. Sheesh. But then again, I'm not a girly-girl, am I?

Odds and Sods

Eeep! I was supposed to mention this contest ages ago, but it completely slipped my mind! Mea culpa, Laurel!

There's still time to:

SUBMIT to the
FIRST ANNUAL VERB FICTION CONTEST!!!

Any unpublished story (up to 5,000 words) is eligible
Winner will receive $1000.00 and publication* in VERB!!
All finalists will be considered for publication.
Submissions must be postmarked on or before July 1.
Manuscripts will not be returned.
Winners will be announced in October, 2006.

For each entry, submit the following:
A check for $15, made payable to VERB.
Two cover sheets. The first should include only the title of your story.
The second should include the title of the work, your name, phone number,
mailing address, and email.
A self-addressed stamped envelope.

OR SUBMIT ONLINE @ VERB.ORG

Mail to:
VERB FICTION CONTEST
PO Box 2684
Decatur GA 30031

TYPE Books is pleased to announce a new show in the store’s gallery starting June 20. A perfect fit in the bookstore, NANO~NANO is a showcase of unique, one-of-a-kind or limited-edition handmade books created by students in OCAD’s “Nano-publishing: Independent Publications” program.

The three-week intensive, taught by Toronto book artist Shannon Gerard, required that students created a fully-realized publication incorporating four major print media: relief, letterpress, screen printing and fine digital printing, as well as some at-home and indie-based print solutions and some simple bookbinding techniques. The course also provided students with a point of entry into broader local and national independent arts and publishing communities and venues.

To view and/or download images of the books on display in the NANO~NANO exhibit, visit http://www.scottwaters.ca/nano_nano/nano_nano.htm.

NANO~NANO: an exhibition of handmade indie books
by OCAD students
Opening reception: June 21, 2006
TYPE Books gallery, 6:30 – 8:30 PM
883 Queen St. W, 416-366-8973
Show runs from June 20 – July 23

Isn't that illustration above lovely? It's called "Bookseller" and is from The Book of Shops by E.V. Lucas and illustrated by F.D. Bedford. The book was published by Grant Richards in 1899. My husband's boss gave me this card; she bought them from The Osborne Collection of Early Children's Books from The Toronto Public Library. Thanks, Mary Ella!

And finally, in completely non-book related news, I'm pleased as punch to announce that my charming niece Stephanie has been chosen to be the Valedictorian for her grade eight graduating class! Way to go Steph!!!

Ceased to Enjoy This Pretty Damn Early

I'm swamped. Utterly swamped. But I'm still carving out time for reading; it's just writing blog posts that has become difficult! Before the next big wave of work hits, I wanted to jot down some thoughts on a book I recently read. I know, the blog post title is none too subtle. I did not like this book. Which for so many reasons, is too bad.

First of all, the author, Billie Livingston, wrote a previous novel, (her first) Going Down Swinging, which I enjoyed tremendously. So yes, I was expecting something as clever, insightful and tight as her first work. Not entirely fair, but that's why we readers go for an author's second kick at the can, right? Another reason why I was so looking forward to Cease to Blush was because of the subject matter Ms Livingston chose to write about. In the various blurbs and reviews I read about this book, the story was described as a smart, funny, poignant look at a mother-daughter relationship, as well as a challenging and irreverant look at the women's movement in the past 40 years or so.

I really should just stop reading all those damn reviews.

To be blunt and heartless, this book is a mess. It's starts off in an amusing manner, with our heroine Vivian, the antithesis of her lesbian feminist mother Josie, showing up late for her mother's funeral, and wearing a somewhat skanky red dress, to the shock and disgust of all Josie's die-hard feminist friends. From there, it just falls from one embarrassing cliche to another until the core of this book just crumbles into your hands, unable to support itself from the weight of the embarrassingly predictable dialogue and plot. The predictable plot? The daughter finds out (too late! Sob!) that her mother had a secret past as an exotic dancer and singer, and even hung with all those hip dudes from the Rat Pack in Vegas, baby. So what does Vivian do? Go on a road trip, of course, in search of the real Mom! There are the required flashbacks of Mom groovin' with fellahs like Sinatra and Dean, and even a little trist with the likes of Bobby Kennedy no less! If I had wanted to read about the history of the Rat Pack, I would have gone to the Biography section, or rented a few cheezy movies. I read that whole damn book and found very little mother-daughter drama, not to mention no real insightful discussion of the women's movement, past or present.

And that's the real shame, because I'd love to read some good fiction which looks at the history of the women's movement, in say, the past 40-ish years. Something smart and funny. And maybe a little cynical. Something that might help me define how I feel about feminism these days. I'm definitely one of those women who feel hesitant to call herself a feminist, and I'm not entirely sure why. I certainly appreciate all that has happened in the past so that I can live a pretty darn good life in the present, but I still see around me messages which tell me that all is not ok. I'm not the kind of woman who is a strident feminist; I'm not obsessed with political correctness in the extreme (for example, I don't consider it demeaning if someone calls me a 'girl', nor do I think it is wrong to use the word 'rape' in the context of the destruction of our environment, ie, the rape of our precious resources). But it does annoy me to see women portrayed in movies and TV as nothing but objects of sex or violence. That's certainly one of the reasons I don't watch much TV these days. Every other TV show is about some beautiful girl who has been raped and murdered, and her crime is being solved by some extremely foxy lady. I find that a tad perverse. Am I prudish? Perhaps, in some areas. I'm definitely not a girly-girl; I find conversations focusing on clothes, make-up and jewellry to be deadly dull. In fact, I find girly-girls to be rather annoying, and if I run through a mental list of all my girlfriends, I realize that not one of them is a girly-girl. Quite frankly, I get really turned off by women I encounter who use their sexuality to get what they want in life. Why is Marilyn Monroe so revered? I've never been able to figure that out, and I find it next to impossible to watch an entire movie with her and her beathless bosomy antics bouncing across the screen. Give me Ava Gardner any day of the week. How does Billie Livingston feel about all these issues? I certainly didn't figure it out by reading this book. And Ms. Livingston herself is quite the looker: a former model and still part-time actress who has also become a published author and poet. Interestingly enough, just about every article I have read about Ms. Livingston always mentions her jarring beauty. All part of the package these days, when it comes to selling books. How far have we really come?

So what kind of feminist am I? I'm still trying to figure it out. Unfortunately, Ms. Livingston wasn't much help. Cease to Blush was a great idea, but a very disappointing execution. Sort of like how I sometimes feel about feminism these days.

"Women without principles," the Marquis de Sade wrote, "are never more dangerous than at the age when they have ceased to blush."

I'd say they're never more dangerous than when they have ceased to think.

BiblioQueria 18

Oy. So busy. Very little time to post, but been missing it so bad, had to make an effort.

So I'm thinking to myself, you know, I'm still really on a gardening groove, but it's about time I started talking about books again, so how can I combine the two passions in one post? Why talk about gardening books, of course! Heh. Aren't I clever? Ok, enough with the rolling of the eyes.

In the past month or so, I have purchased or received as gifts some wonderful gardening books, and I thought I'd list them, and say a few words about each book.

Garden Talk: Ask Me Anything by C.Z. Guest
I couldn't resist this one because it was marked down from $40.00 to $7.00. I'm not sure if it's really my kinda book; I have no idea who C.Z. Guest is, and quite frankly, based on the picture on the front cover, she looks a little too hifalutin for my tastes. The book is organized by seasons (which I find a tad odd), and within each season are subjects which are listed alphabetically. (For example, in Summer you have Dry Growing Season, Preparing for, followed by of all things Farming Lore, and then Garden for Cut Flowers). The book seems a little too scattered and general for my tastes, especially since I am a novice gardener, but it may be a pleasant book to browse through from time to time, and grab the occasional useful tid-bit.

The Canadian Encyclopedia of Gardening
editor-in-chief Christopher Brickell
Now this five-ton tomb is a wealth of organized information. The only problem with this 752 page monster is that it's bloody heavy, and a little difficult to handle (especially with my wonky arm!) But it packs a great punch of gardening knowledge. Chapters are organized in a logical fashion, which makes it very easy for the novice to get exactly what one needs. (Some very useful chapters: Gardening Planning and Design, Climbing Plants and Annuals and Biennuals). Excellent photograhs, especially when it's a step-by-step instruction, like say, How to Propogate Perennials by Root Cuttings. I do wish that there were more easy-access pictures for the novice to recoginize trees and flowers, but you can't have everything, I suppose. Besides, then the book would have to be carried around in a wheelbarrow or something. I know I will be using this book on a regular basis, in spite of the fact that it is goddam heavy.

Encylcopedia of Garden Plants and Flowers by Lance Hattatt
The perfect book for the totally clueless gardener, like myself. Everything listed alphabetically, with bright, beautiful colour images, along with the latin name and the more popular name that it goes by in the lay-gardener lexicon. For example, I am now totally in love with Iberis umbellata which is just your common candytuft. But it's heavenly! Along with the name and the pic of the plant or flower is a little info explaining whether it's an annual or perennial, and what are it's special needs. There's also an index of common names at the back, so that it will cross-reference with the latin names throughout the book. This is a fabulous book (thanks, Mom!), a real keeper. My only concern is the fact that it's published in the UK, so some of the common names that the Brits use may not be the same as the Canadian version. But overall, it's simply a delightful addition to my ever-expanding gardening library.

Outside the Not So Big House: Creating the Landscape of Home
by Julie Moir Messervy and Sarah Susanka
I just couldn't resist this one! It's a lovely compliment to their first book, Inside the Not So Big House, which I also have in my possession. This is not so much a practical reference book, as an inspirational coffee table book, in my opinion. Gorgeous photographs of beautifully designed gardens all throughout this book. Thing is though, these houses aren't exactly not-so-big. In fact, most of them are pretty honking huge, with pretty damn large plots of land, and sometimes in strange locations, like a desert. I would have to look at some of these ideas, and figure out how to incorporate them within my limited space, and ahem, very limited budget.

Front Yard Gardens: Growing More Than Grass by Liz Primeau
Love, love, love this book. First, because it's Canadian, so all the gardens are more than likely doable, since they will be in my zone. Also, this is exactly what I want to do with by backyard. Get rid of all the grass, and just go crazy, baby! The ideas can easily be incorporated into backyard designs, too. Excellent photographs and descriptions of flowers and plants used for each garden, along with a detailed garden plan for each garden displayed. I look at these pictures and want to cry, because I can't wait to get going on my garden plan for the future!

You Grow Girl: The Groundbreaking Guide to Gardening by Gayla Trail
What a fabulous idea for a book. And it's Canadian! Based on the many creative and inexpensive ideas found on www.yougrowgirl.com, Gayla Trail's book is fun, informative, creative and very inspirational. It's a hip, funny, down-to-earth approach to gardening for gals who may not have a lot of cash, gardening space or gardening know-how. Hey! That's sounds just like me! Lots of tips, projects and recipes can be found in this fun, funky, illustrated book (illustrations, by the way are by the very talented Leela Corman). And Gayla Trail is definitely my kind of woman. She's a graphic designer, writer, photographer and of course, gardener. And she lives in Toronto! Do you think if I called her, she might come over for tea and gardening advice?

So that's my garden library for now. I highly doubt that I will be able to limit it to just these titles. And so my BiblioQueria question to you is ...

What gardening books would you recommend for me, that are not already on this list?

Home Alone

I know it's beginning to look like this blog has been taken over by the subject of gardening, and I promise I'll get back to books asap, but I'm simply dying to share these stories.

Since falling in love with my front and backyard, I'm quite convinced that on some level, I have lost my mind. But in a good way, I think. (I hope).

It all started about a month ago, and I'm sure this is what really precipatated the problems with my right arm. In our backyard, we have one of those old dilapidated detached garages, the kind that were built in the 1930s or so. It's made of old rotting wood, and hideous brown rotting shingles. It leans to one side, and looks like it will collapse at any given moment, yet our house inspector said that overall, it's in pretty darn good shape. It's just butt-freakin' ugly, that's all. Well, I have plans for that garage. I'm gonna find me a paint that can paint over shinlges, and I'm gonna paint that sucker a nice clean white, and then I'm gonna put trellaces along the sides and grow climbers like clematis or something like that. But in the mean time, I'm still in search of a paint that can paint shingles. Anyone out there in the know? The hubby says I'm crazy, but I'm not quite ready to give up. So that's plan number one, which is still in process.

Right in front of the ugly garage is a little square of land which I also have plans for. Problem was, for some bizarre reason there was a 10-foot tall steel black pole which stood on that patch of grass, right in front of the ugly garage. Apparently at some point in the past, it was part of a basketball net, but when we took possession of the house, there was no net, just a nasty-looking black pole which was beginning to get rusty, and pieces of black rusty paint were peeling off the sides of this monstrosity. Of course, it had to go. Of course, the hubby said, how the hell are you gonna get rid of that, you can't move it, why not just paint it white or make it into a bird feeder or something. Right. Now first off, don't be telling me that I can't do something. And that sure as hell ain't no goddam bird feeder that I've ever come across. So one hot day, when the hubby was at work, and I was home alone, I was staring down that pole, and thinking it's either you or me buddy, and you sure ain't the one paying the bills, so I think we know how this is going to end now, don't we? Out I went with the shovel, and just started digging. And digging. An hour later I was still digging. And you know what was attached to that damn black pole? Three feet of solid concrete! But did that stop me? I kept digging until the pole and the concrete were unattached from the ground. No, I couldn't pull the sucker out of the whole in the ground, but damn it felt good!! I danced around the yard doing that Ace Ventura dance (I'm not kidding), and yelling "Yes! Yes! Can you feel it, baby!!" I was sweaty and sore all over, but I felt like I could take over the world. The hubby came home, took one look at the huge hole in the ground with the black pole and concrete, and sputtered, "You're nuts!! You're #*!!@! nuts!!!" The problem was solved by calling a junk pick-up guy the next day, who preceded to saw off the pole and recommended that I bury the concrete over again, since there was no way he was gonna lift that 300 slab of stone. Hey, no skin off my nose. I dug before, and I could dig again. So the black pole is gone. That plan is complete.

Another problem with our ugly garage is the door. We didn't really have one. There was a doorway, and then basically seven pieces of nasty old plywood held together by two thick pieces of more nasty plywood going crossways, which stood in front of the doorway. Every time we needed to go into the garage, we had to lift this sucker and move it to one side to get in. Not exactly practical. Or attractive. So this week I said to my family, I wanna build me a door. No one seemed to take me seriously. And why should they? I'd never built a door before. But once again, this morning after the hubby left for work, and I was home alone, I sat in the kitchen staring down that ugly make-shift 'door'. Next thing you know I'm hi-tailing it over to Home Depot, buying hinges and padlocks and a door handle. So what if it was pouring rain? Perfect time to do it, because we didn't own a drill, so the wood would be soft enough for me to just put in those screws manually. I lugged that heavy make-shift door to our porch, got out the hacksaw, and sawed about one third of it off. I didn't use a measuring tape at all; just eye-balled the whole thing. I found some old bricks in the back of the garage which I used for the door to rest on, while I attached the hinges. I was soaking wet, covered in mud, and yes, my arm was killing me. But I just had to get it done! When the moment of truth arrived, and I removed the bricks, and the door swung seamlessly back and forth, I said to myself so this is what nirvana is like. The hard part was done, so I attached the padlock and the door handle, stood back, and felt like I was looking at the Sistine Chapel. Even though it was still pouring rain, I couldn't leave the backyard; I kept staring at my door. True, it's nothing fancy, but dammit, it's almost indescribable, the feelings I experienced after completing that task. To be able to achieve something that I didn't think I could do – well, for me, that's happiness. This time when the hubby came home, he sure as hell didn't call me nuts. But I do think he's a little perplexed at this new person who is emerging, since purchasing our house. Quite frankly, I'm a little perplexed myself. But also extremely excited. It's like I've discovered play-doh for the first time, all over again.

On Friday I mentioned to my mom and my sister that I wanted to find out if there was a way to make my own flagstones, instead of buying them. They said I was nuts; it couldn't be done. In the words of one of our former Prime Ministers, I say, well just watch me.