I came into the computer room to blog and check email because to me it feels as if I've been away FOREVER! Like days have passed since I last blogged. I even dug out my itinerary so I wouldn't get confused as I recounted my adventures . . . and then I noticed that it's only been ONE day, just one. Wow! How will I survive this week? It's like going on one of those crazy all-inclusive Cuba vacations where all you do is drink . . . except here I'm working too. Anyway, on to the update! I know you've been waiting with baited breath.
The showers have curtains yes, not open prison-style . . . but still pretty open. And thankfully not being used for co-ed this week, just female. So far my showering during the supper hour thing has been working out well.
I don't know where the law building is . . . hmmm . . . is this marked on my map? I will have to see if I can find this. I have found Tim Horton's though, which is extremely exciting although it's all the way to hell and back up the hill . . . it's no wonder all these university types here look like they are starving to death . . . us writers literally are starving to death on this cafeteria food plus all the walking up and down hill . . . what a great crash diet just before Stacy's wedding!
Anyway onward . . .
Sunday night after I left the computer lab I went back to the residence and sat in the lounge talking with a lady from Nova Scotia about writing and electronic publishing. Then I went to bed and nearly froze to death because there is some sort of super cool draft in my room . . . I'm the only one complaining about being chilly though, other people are dying from the heat. I slept fitfully, woke WAY early before my alarm, got up and went to the first morning lecture at Memorial Hall. Sue Goyette started things off on an upbeat positive note with a session called "A Creative Writing Vita-Boost." She spoke for about an hour and took questions from the floor but the main point I came away with I guess is that what we're doing is important. Writing matters. The world needs people like us to make art. Writing isn't about publishing -- publishing has nothing to do with writing. Writing is about the art, about creation, about joy and magic . . . she said a lot of great things . . . but I see I've left my notebook in my room so I don't have the benefit of my notes, I'm just going on what I remember. It was a good session.
When it ended I went on a coffee run with a guy from my group to the Tim Horton's at the top of the hill. He knows his way around the university so I was glad to have the company and a guide to the building where our group sessions take place. I'm in Alan Cumyn's fiction group. There are six of us, four girls, two guys and Alan. I workshopped with Alan last fall at the Nowlan Fest and really enjoyed him. He's got a very zen-like personality, very low-key, laid back, soothing almost. He studied under Alistair Macleod at Windsor University, has 7 or 8 published novels under his belt, and has led the fiction group at this workshop before. He's good. He knows what he's talking about and he's got a way about him that is very supportive and nurturing while still being very focused on finding out what isn't working in a piece and improving it. So yesterday morning we had our first session and we did some writing exercises.
Then we broke for lunch . . . sandwiches and vegetable soup . . . then back into our groups for another hour and a half where we workshopped two of the participants pieces. It happened that the men volunteered to go first. One is a Grad student here, the other a CPA from the Fredericton area. One was a short story, the other an excerpt from a fantasy novel in progress. It was a good session. I learned some things that I can now take to my novel. We're focusing a lot on novel writing because most of the members of my group are working on their first one. So this is excellent! Just what I needed.
We broke at 3 p.m. and I went back to my room, laid down, tried to read, tried to nap, couldn't do any of it so I ended up writing two pages on a new story that's been rolling around my head lately. That was exciting! I've got some good ideas coming out of me, stuff burning in my belly. It feels good.
I showered while everyone else was at supper and then I left walking to the James Joyce Pub at the Lord Beaverbrook Hotel. (Was Philip in town yesterday by any chance?) It's a LONG walk really. I went pretty steady and quickly and still it took me a good 25 minutes. Thankfully it was all downhill, but I knew going in that there was no way in hell I was going to walk back up the hill. I got there early enough to get a good seat close to the stage area where Alan was going to give his reading. If you ever get the chance to see him read, take it. He's extremely entertaining. We laughed so hard and had such a good time. He read from three different works starting with a bit from a novel about a soldier in the First World War, then an excerpt from a steamy sex piece in progress and finishing with an excerpt from one of his children's novels. It was a diverse collection and he picked really great parts. The place was packed too, with participants, other local writers, hotel guests, and locals who just go there to drink . . . and everyone was quiet and enjoyed the reading, which says a lot because sometimes these things can go bad pretty quickly in a public place where people aren't necessarily there for the reading. It's a testament to his ability to capture an audience and tell a story.
I sat with some people from my group and some poets, got to know people I didn't know a bit better, caught up on the news with others that I did know. Eventually all the other workshop participants called it a night . . . but not me of course. I ended up closing the place and not getting to bed until almost three. Had a fabulous time though, well worth the inevitable dry mouth this morning. There's nothing like getting pissy faced drunk and talking into the wee hours about writerly things.
I'm looking forward to the reading this evening. It's Janet McNaughton, who writes for children, and it's on campus at Memorial Hall. I suspect the drinks will be happening at Windsor Castle this evening . . . and maybe I'll go . . . it will be cheaper than last night, Alden Nowlan's house, interesting conversation . . . we'll see. Maybe I should take the night off, get some sleep, pace myself . . . afterall there is still Mark Jarman's party (which I've heard through the grapevine are notoriously wild and crazy) to contend with on Friday night and the closing banquet on Saturday evening . . . so the question becomes can I keep this up all week and still have anything left for the weekend? . . . without drugs . . .
There's also the Odd Sundays reading at Molly's on Sunday afternoon . . . open mic . . . the last bus to Sackville leaves at 6 p.m. every day . . . hmmm . . . all good things to think about.
In other news I've taken more photos, figured out how to use the camera finally, and now keep forgetting I have it when interesting things happen . . . I'll try to be more diligent and will have tons of pics to post upon my return I'm sure. I should probably save some room on the disc for the weekend stuff. It's a week about pacing it seems. I'll try to get in again tomorrow to tell you all about today and tonight.
Mood: Tired . . . but happy
Drinking: Nothing
Listening To: Some really heavy breather sitting behind me . . . it's kinda scary
Hair: ponytailed up by day, coming down for the night
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