READER FEEDBACK. Please let me know what you would like to read on my blog.

Since I want to develop and maintain reader interest in my blog, I am rethinking my focus and seek your comments and feedback around that. I would like to know what you, the reader, would like to see when you drop by my blog. Please leave comments. I will try to reply to all comments and questions.

Writing is the underlying river of my life. That is the origin of the title of the blog, as well as the sense that it would resonate for others who feel the same way. The flow of this river has connected many disparate parts of my experience. I began keeping a journal when I was still a teenager and have done so in some form ever since. There are more than two drawers full of lined notebooks where, if I delve into them, I find quotes or descriptions I could use in a story or novel. On the other hand, there are pages and pages that bore me now. The digital journal I began to keep about ten years ago is not as full of repetition as I record there only when something actually feels significant enough to me to do so. I also edit as I go along or when I go back to look at an entry, something I would have considered a sacrilege in younger years.

Sometimes something comes to me as a story or an idea for a story. Or for a novel. It could be a character or an event. Or even a place as was the case in my novel, Ile d'Or. And in my collection of short stories, One Day It Happens, many are set in locales that interested me and where the skeleton of a story occurred to me.

I often refer to inspiration in my blogs.There are many sources of inspiration.  I have begun to journal by taking photos, finding they also act as inspiration and/or research for a story. Ultimately though it is hard work that gets a piece of writing finished and out there in the world where readers can read it. So, after the initial idea, I know I will have to nail my butt to the chair and get on with it. How long that will take is never certain. A full draft may come quickly, but then there is the endless and ongoing revision. All of this constitutes the life of a writer.

I am also trying to set up a regular schedule for writing and posting blogs so that you will know it is worth checking back. That may be difficult over the next month as I will have surgery on my foot soon and won't have access to my computer for a week or so. But when I do, I hope I will find your comments. At that point, I will continue to post something at least once a week, keeping what you want as well as what I want to share in mind.

Midnight In Paris

Charming movie I saw this afternoon in a cool movie theatre on a hot day in Toronto. Lovely to be in Paris with Ernest Hemingway and Scott Fitzgerald as well as Gertrude Stein and painters like Picasso, Dali, Toulouse Lautrec for an afternoon. Best of Woody Allen's recent films, I was transported to Paris. The girlfriend character was quite shallow and her parents were caricatures, but the main character, a writer, was delightful. As were the historical cultural icons we met in the course of the film. Great way to spend a hot, humid afternoon.

Jazz in the Beaches also beckoned, but now that I feel like it it is raining. Maybe tomorrow.

Near Blenheim, Ontario. July 2011.

Summer Sky

Soybean plants

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lovely summer day! Rest and relaxation and likely also inspiration.

Brockton Writing Series. Audience. July 6, 2011

The Brockton Writing Series was started by Farzana Doctor and is now a regular monthly reading held in Toronto's west end Parkdale area. One of the readers last evening was Antanas Sileika and you can see him sitting in the background before his turn at the podium. He read from his new novel, Underground, ending on a very dramatic note that ensured readers for this intriguing book. The other readers were Diana Fitzgerald Bryden and Ian Malczewski. Diana read from her award winning novel, No Place Strange, from sections set in Beirut and Athens. Ian, an urban planner as well as a writer, read some of his poetry.


There are always interesting book launches and readings going on in Toronto. A good place to live as a writer, but also sometimes it is hard to get down to the ongoing, difficult work of writing. This series provides a sense of community with a forum at the beginning for writers to speak with each other. It was led last night by Sileika under his other hat of Director of the Humber School for Writers. He gave information about the programs at HSW and also discussed language and what constitutes good writing with some memorable examples.

The woman in white in the photograph is Sandra Campbell, Ontario representative for the Writers' Union. I am the one behind her and next to me is Jasmine d'Costa.

Toronto Island. July 2011. Inspiration without photographs

Early in the morning today, I left on the spur of the moment to go to Toronto Island. In my bag I had a book to read. I would look for a shady spot overlooking water. I had forgotten that I would be traveling in rush hour, crammed into the subway. I stood holding onto a pole in the middle of the car, almost cheek to cheek with the other passengers with our hands arranged up and down the pole. Behind me I felt butts pressing into me, hips beside me. The two pole grippers on either side of me began to talk.
     "Where did you get your coffee?" the man asked.
     "I made it," she said, screwing the top back on the thermos.
     "It smells good," I said spontaneously and their heads jerked toward me and away. There was silence. I wasn't there. I ought to have observed the etiquette of rush hour. No jumping into strangers' conversations. Acting as if no one around can hear anything you say to each other. And as if you actually can't hear them. I stared straight ahead, said nothing. After a while they resumed their conversation. I remained quiet. She pulled up google on her cell and asked about the best route to take to work. Their outfits both bore the insignia of the City. Parks I seem to recall, but I don't know. He suggested going east on the subway instead of going down to Queen. So she got off at Bloor and he at Queen and I continued on to Union Station. In silence.
     On the ferry, I realized I hadn't brought my camera. There would be no photos of whatever caught my eye, whatever might act as inspiration for a hot day in Toronto. There are no photos to post here. But it was a good outing for the morning. I took the ferry to Hanlan's Point because it was the first one leaving the ferry docks in downtown Toronto. When I arrived I meandered for a while, occasionally sat down to read the book I'd brought with me (The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins). Sat on a bench and watched birds fly across the blue sky, listened to the waves on the sandy shore.
     When I glanced back behind me, I saw the tall buildings of downtown and the CN Tower. This is the life, I thought, as I wandered gradually back to the ferry at Centre Island. Along the way, I discovered a new park for children I will go back to explore one day. And much to my surprise, actually began to write this piece in my head at the same time as I decided to incorporate a couple of poems into a manuscript I am working on. It's a collection of short pieces, many of them linked. Why not a handful of poems? There is one photograph in the manuscript already and there may be others.
     Let's see!

Celebrating Diversty in Toronto. Pride Parade 2011

What a beautiful day it was to celebrate Pride. Sunday parade with over a million lining the streets. Joyful occasion to see so much support from across the spectrum in our city for our friends, family and colleagues in the LGBT community,