Blog Archives

Recharging

westie

This last weekend, Thanksgiving weekend in Canada, Patrick and I decided to rent a Westfalia Vanagon camper. We’ve been toying with the idea of buying one, but every time it comes up in conversation, we can’t justify having two cars (we don’t have a lot of parking space, and Patrick bikes to work, so it’s not like we really need two cars). But when we found out that there’s a rental company in Sidney, it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up. We could try it out, and see if it was just something fun to dream about, or something we’d really love.

We picked the camper van up on Friday evening, and were given a quick demonstration of how everything worked – folding down the bed, pulling out the table, lighting the stove, getting water in the sink, pushing open the pop-top, hooking it up to power, filling up the gas tank, and swiveling the front seats. There was so much to learn, I admit I was a bit intimidated. But we hit the road, headed for Saltspring Island.

ontheferry

The ferry trip was uneventful and then we joined the stream of cars heading up the main road to Ganges (note to self, next time just pull over and let everyone else go ahead!). In the dark, we pulled into our campsite, a secluded spot in the trees with a picnic table and an quick walk to the bathrooms. We’d forgotten there’s a light in the back of the van, so we used our headlamps to pull the bed out and get everything organized for sleeping. I can’t imagine what that looked like – two headlamps bobbing up and down as we puzzled out how to make it all work. But we were soon cozy in bed with our own feather duvet from home, propped up reading our books, and grinning at each other like mad things. This was exactly as we imagined it would be!

Next morning I woke up with the birds and Patrick muttered and grumbled at me to go back to sleep, which of course I couldn’t because we were on holiday. Eventually he allowed that it was time to get up. By now, the sun was shining through the trees and I was ready for coffee. Together we figured out how to get water out of the tap, I put it on to boil, and Patrick ground the beans, and then we waited for it to brew. Some days, three minutes seems like a long time. As I poured the coffee, I got my first hint of…something foul. I’m sure my nose twitched. That smell, it couldn’t be the coffee could it? I took a sip, and another. Ewww! Sure enough, it was the water from the tank (second note to self – don’t use the water in the tank for drinking!)

Following a quick breakfast of tuna and salad (yeah, I know we’re strange), we drove into Ganges village to check out the Saturday market and pick up some fresh vegetables. And a decent cup of coffee!

coffee

On Saturday afternoon, we drove north, took the ferry back to Crofton, drove north to Nanaimo, and then took the ferry to Gabriola, where we spent the rest of the weekend, following much the same pattern. Waking up early, making coffee (not using water from the tank), eating breakfast, cooking, eating, cooking, eating, making cups of tea and reading, reading, reading, with the odd stroll down to the marina to gaze at the boats.

Memorable moments included walking to the bathrooms in the dark with our headlamps on and seeing several sets of deer eyes peering back at us, picking apples and pears off the trees at the campground (delicious!), and cooking yam fries on the camp stove.

boats

Would we rent a camper again? Yes! Might we buy one? Yes, yes, YES! So if you have one for sale, or know someone with one for sale, please contact me ASAP.



The call

It starts with an email: “I’ve tried calling …”

Instantly I recall all the times the phone rang, when I didn’t pick up because I didn’t recognize the number. “Just another crank call,” I’d thought.

I shoot back an email. “Is it okay if I call you right back?” and then I have second thoughts. As if I’ll be able to think about anything else until I hear what she has to say.

I dig out the cell phone and find the last Missed call. Holding my breath, I call back. The wheelbarrow man in my stomach is doing a jig.

She picks up right away. “Jenny?”

“I’m so sorry…”

“I’ve been trying to call you…”

“I thought you were the Microsoft Service Desk…” I’m giggling nervously.

We talk for a few minutes about how we both don’t like to use the phone, which is why she hasn’t left me a message. And then we get down to it.

“I read your story and I really liked it.”

I’m waiting for the BUT.

“And we’d like to publish it.”

I don’t do any of those things I’ve heard writers do – scream, yell, drop the phone. “Really?” I must have misunderstood.

“Really.”

The rest of the conversation is a blur. I make frantic notes as she tells me about the editing process, how I should start thinking about what types of covers I like because I can have some input into the cover design, and how she’ll send me a contract the next day.

After we hang up, I jump up and down like a five year old. I skype Patrick, but he’s already left. I pace for a few minutes. I give up and run next door to tell my neighbor. When Patrick finally gets home, I can’t even wait for him to put his bike away. “Guess what, guess what, guess what!”

He refuses to guess.

So I tell him. And then we both jump up and down and hug.

For the next few days I can’t sleep. My brain is going a million miles an hour thinking about all the things I need to do (Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, a website, EDITING!) Even though I’m not sleeping, I keep expecting to wake up.

And then the contract arrives and it’s official! My book is going to be published by
Sono Nis Press.



Port Townsend Wooden Boat Festival

This weekend we went south of the border to Port Townsend for the Wooden Boat Festival.

lorraine

This is the Lorraine, a folkboat, and one of my favorites.

Highlights included:

1. Research for a new writing project

sailloft

This is Alison, teaching us how to attach sliders to the edge of the sail.

sailloft2

One of the many sewing machines in the sail loft.

2. Renewed enthusiasm for building the Navigator

navigator_ellie

This is Ellie, a Navigator designed by John Welsford of New Zealand. We have one of these on the back deck and we’re hoping it will look like this one day. While we were admiring her, we met another couple who are also building one.

3. Meeting John Welsford

Yes! Really!

4. Coffee from the lovely Heidi, aka Java Gypsy

coffee

java_gypsy

When Patrick was at boat school, Heidi used to visit every day at morning tea time. She has an unbelievable memory for faces and names, and coffee orders, and her husband makes the best coffee in PT.

5. Thank goodness for ferry reservations

birds_of_a_feather

Back in Port Angeles, the ferries were completely chocka, so we were glad we had a reservation. There was just time for a short walk along the waterfront to admire these guys. Aren’t they cool!



Classic Boat Festival

DSC_0019_web

It’s been a busy summer – a road trip to Jasper and back as volunteers for the Rocky Mountain 1200, friends and family to stay, and lots of work. This weekend we caught up with friends, visited the Classic Boat Festival, watched a cruise ship dock and the classic boats sail by from the end of the breakwater at Ogden Point, and kayaked in the gorge. A good weekend! A break from writing, but sometimes that’s what you need.



Surrey International Writers’ Conference

Registration opened this week for the Surrey International Writers’ Conference. Once again there is a great lineup of speakers – authors, editors, and agents.

I’m going. Are you?



First drafts

Do you like writing first drafts?

Lots of people love starting a new project. They’re brimming over with ideas for fascinating characters and surprising plot twists.

But I hate them. I stare at the blank page. I write a few words and then edit the life out of them. I get to the end of a scene, and then rewrite it over and over, even though I tell other people to keep moving forward with the story (why can’t I take my own advice?) It all just feels impossible.

Today I’m pulling out a new project to work on. It’s something I started earlier in the year, but put aside, so it’s like starting over. Here I am, staring at my screen, and trying to remember how I’ve done this before. And that’s when I remember—Kaizen—One Small Step Can Change Your Life.

It’s a book a read two years ago, that suggests starting with steps that are so small and easy, you can’t not do them. If you’re trying to convince yourself to exercise, a small step might be to march on the spot in front of your TV for 5 minutes every day. For me, it means writing for 10 minutes every day. I even have the Streaks app on my iPod Touch so I can’t cheat and miss a day. 10 minutes is such a short time I have no excuse not to do it. And it’s too short a time to worry about being perfect. All that matters is writing something, anything. Surprisingly, the words add up. You wouldn’t think so, but even 10 minutes a day is enough to build some momentum and carry you forward.

So I’m tightening my seatbelt and setting my timer for 10 minutes. Want to join me?



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