Friday, February 24, 2012

A novel approach to my bucket list


If you're like most people you have goals in life you strive to achieve. Some goals are easily accomplished, others take a lifetime to make reality. Some never come true, like my boyhood dream of playing Major League  Baseball with my best friend Dave Osborne. Neither of us made the big leagues. Hell, we never even tried! But for a few boyhood years it was our sole reason for being.
For me writing a novel has been a goal I've had since I realized writing would become my life. I am trained in journalism and every time I sit down to compose a story I get an unbelievable rush. The first time I had a news story published the positive rush that consumed my whole being was unlike any feeling I've ever experienced. I wondered how long that feeling would last or whether I'd get jaded like so many in the industry do and just stop giving a damn. It hasn't happened. To this day the rush is the same each and every time I file a story.
The longer I've spent time in journalism the more my job description has changed. Reporters become editors and once that happens you edit more than you write. Part of the reason you do this is for the money. Editors make it, reporters don't. For those reporters who stick it out for the long haul I applaud you.
To make up for my reduced writing time at work I've spent a considerable number of hours in my spare time doing creative writing, blogging and  journaling. In May 2010 I started my novel, Forest of Fear.
When I started this project I had no idea how long it would take. Writing a novel was not like writing a news story or feature. It took me a lot of time, planning and character development to get it underway. Once it got started there was constant interruptions that I would characterize as 'life'. But I persevered and a few days ago I put the final touches on my rough draft. When I took my hands off the keyboard and pulled back my chair I couldn't believe it was actually done. Seventy-five thousand words, the most I've strung together at once in my life. What a rush!
Is the project complete? Not by a long shot. It's going to take a lot of re-writing and editing before I'm happy with it. Then the hard part begins, shopping it to agents and publishers. I've only heard horror stories about the process so we'll see how it goes when I get to that point.
For now though my goal of finishing a novel is complete. Cross that one of my bucket list!
Prior to Christmas I attended the DarkLit Festival and participated in a pitch session where I was allowed to sit down with a publisher and wax poetic about my novel. Here's a synopsis of the novel I submitted. See what you think.
Forest of Fear
Derek Mitchell cannot shake his recurrent nightmares. He’s always running in a futile attempt to elude the monster he calls the Bad Man. Lately, he’s terrorized awake by the evil he witnesses as the Bad Man hunts down and murders those around him. That or the daylight chases away the Bad Man. Or does it?
When Derek’s nightmares manifest into reality and Dugood residents begin to go missing he’s convinced he’s lost his mind. His nightmares are just that, bad dreams, they’re not real. But the presence that’s haunting him is real and so far the only other witness to it is Donna Sinclair. When the Bad Man turns on Donna, Derek knows there’s only one thing to do – confront his nightmare.
As an investigative reporter Danny Mack has broken dozens of award winning stories in the Dugood Journal. When the local economy is shuttered by the economic downturn he’s forced from his city beat to the obituaries. It’s a humbling demotion for sure but one he hopes will be short-lived when he’s able to break the story about the mysterious disappearances of a number of residents. When his best friend and girlfriend go missing however, Danny can no longer be objective in his pursuit of this story. He needs help and he finds it in Derek Mitchell.
Together the two men uncover another world, a place where the living meets the dead and where all hope will be lost unless they can get back home. But the only way to do that is by escaping the Bad Man and ending the horror plaguing the town. 

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Distracted by distractions

When I was growing up school homework was done in a quiet place without the distraction of the television. Those were simpler times. Today kids have any number of things to distract them apart from the television -- cellphones, mp3s, laptops, etc.

If your child has text messaging as part of his or her cellphone package it's even more difficult to focus on homework. I know this from experience because Rebekah, daughter No. 1, has had a difficult time looking up from her phone for the past six months. She's constantly communicating with her girlfriends but she rarely says anything to me or her mother unless she needs something.

The phone was a recent purchase and it was made with the understanding that if Rebekah's grades dropped even a little, we would hang up on the little hand-held device.

So you could understand our frustration as we fought with Rebekah on a nightly basis as she sat in the living room with her textbook open, playing with facebook on her laptop, while listening to music on her cellphone and text messaging.

Oh how we ranted, oh how we raged on about how things were done when we were Rebekah's age.

"I swear to God when her report card comes out and her grades have dropped that cellphone is mine, she'll never see it again," my wife Heather said.


Notice the phone? It's surgically attached to Rebekah's hands.
Report cards came out yesterday so I text messaged Rebekah with this message:

"You better pray your report card is good or else your mother will kill you. Now get home."

"Thanks for having so much faith in me," Rebekah texted back.

When I returned from work Heather was in the kitchen with a strange look on her face.

"How's her report card? "I asked fully expected a rough night ahead.

"Take a look," she said.

I opened it up and wouldn't you know it, Rebekah's grades hadn't dropped at all. In fact most of them had improved over her last report card.

How had this happened? She did it without silence, she did it without focus, she did it without concentration, effort or attention. She just did it.

Both Heather and I fully expected we'd be in full fledged fight mode with Rebekah. We were almost looking forward to telling her "We told you so."

We didn't get that opportunity.

How did she do it? She has an 84% average in Grade 8 and she's done it effortlessly. I can only imagine how well she'd do if she put the cellphone and computer away while doing her homework.

I need peace and quiet while doing homework of any type. As much as I hate to admit it Rebekah does not.

Good on her.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Footsteps to sanity

In every marriage you have to connect with your spouse regularly in order to maintain a healthy and enjoyable relationship. By 'connecting' I mean sharing something other than housework, meal planning or parenting. Some couples organize date nights while others plan weekend trips together.

My relationship with my wife Heather involves footsteps, lots of footsteps. It's how we cope, how we decompress, how we share. Together we've covered many thousands of miles together (don't ask me to convert that to kilometres!). Without these footsteps one, or both of us may have snapped ages ago. Three kids will do that to you!

Another positive to this journey of a million steps is our dog Ozzie gets to come along. He doesn't interrupt, just sniffs and sniffs and sniffs. Beagles do that because the nose knows, you know?

Putting our best feet forward and our dog.
These walking journeys were not planned, we stumbled upon them by accident when we adopted our first dog, Webster, a Corgi. We couldn't walk alone with Webster very often as the kids were still too young. When Webster died Bronwyn was a newborn. Shortly afterwards we adopted Ozzie, our Beagle. A happy (and less destructive) Beagle is a tired Beagle so we walk him as often as possible. The kids are older now so it's easier to scoot out and let our teenager babysit.

This is good for us because without our walks our demanding, high energy 5-year-old and a very demanding, self-centred 13-year-old would have made us crazy long ago! Don't get me wrong, I love my children dearly but sometimes I need to get a way from them even if it's just for 45 minutes. Every now and then our 10-year-old son Tavish accompanies us on our walks because he too needs a break from the two girls!

There, that's my one and only piece of relationship advice. It works in our household, maybe it could work in your own.

Is there anything you do that helps your relationship? Let me know.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Subtle French hints

A few years ago I removed the dusty rose curtains in the bathroom and scraped off the flowery pink wallpaper. Begone 1985!

I added a fresh coat of paint, a new mirror and two new lights and the room looked 90 per cent better. The only thing amiss was some artwork to adorn the walls. That I left to my wife Heather who has a better eye when it comes to accessories, be it household or wardrobe.

Heather didn't rush the job. Instead she took her time and started acquiring artwork that spoke to her. She even designed a few pieces herself and gradually began adding them around the bathroom. The bare walls eventually filled with decorative pictures, knick-knacks and artwork. It looked good, well worth the wait.

I do some of my best thinking in that bathroom and the other day I sat there pondering life. My eyes scanned the room and focused on everything Heather had added since I'd finished painting. Everything she'd put in the room had a French flare. Have a look at some of the decorations and see for yourself.






As I sat there thinking it dawned on me, could this be a hint? Do you think Heather wants to visit the real Paris, France? Could her sites be set on something slightly larger and definitely more European than our bathroom? Oui, oui!

I began to smile sitting there. I knew what I had to do. It may have taken me a few years but true to form the man of the house figured it out. It was up to me to make Heather's dream come true. And to do that there was only one place I could take her...

We had to board a plane...

Tickets in hand...

And take off to...

Las Vegas baby!!!