Autumn. Pretty leaves, pumpkin pie and sweaters. Perfect weather for reading. Winter is great but I hate shoveling.
The world is fine. Our place on it is precarious.
We can be the new brand of self-extincting dinosaurs or we can evolve.
We have good people. We have selfless people. We have great leaders.
I think we learn slowly as a group, but we learn. The ozone layer is still there.
I think we're in a 1970s-level moment of social transition and they're always full of upheaval. As violent and deranged as we can be to each other and to other species, we've got nothing on tsunamis, hurricanes or tornadoes.
I don't know if I have a book in me, but I'm sure I have more essays.
I find myself moved by social justice issues. I'm not sure where that will lead me. I'm willing to nurture it.
In general, Americans like to be entertained. Canadians seem more suspicious of it.
If I gave up writing, I'd have to find an equally obsessive way to fill my time. Yarn-bombing skyscrapers or making houses out of empty soda bottles.
The States has more publishers and a wider range of aesthetics but so much more competition - the amount of writers vying for the same spot as you is staggering. I think they're different challenges, but equally frustrating when you're trying to get your foot in the door.
Canadians are fond of darker stories, serious stories, so if you're a Mystery writer or a Romance writer or Fantasy Writer, you will most likely have an American publisher and agent.
Fewer publishers mean you have a limited set of aesthetics, so you know who can and can't send your work to. You have more situations where you take the offer or don't get published or you learn to self-publish.
Our ability to turn off empathy for specific kinds of humans and then use faulty logic to justify our beliefs is messily sociopathic.
Our ability to factory farm animals is coldly psychopathic.
People with antisocial personality disorders aren't automatically bad - they simply approach the world with a more ruthless set of lenses. The lack of empathy or very weak empathy and the ability to read other people's weak spots can be a flammable combination when you get in the way of something they want. But they aren't a different species. They're a part of our spectrum.
I miss smoking (two to four packs a day) but I don't miss the crackle in my lungs when I breathed.
If I have a clear spot in my schedule, I like to tackle the heavy scenes that require the heightened emotion and focus of a long writing session. Otherwise, I have daily obligations that can't be ignored.
Once your writing is out there, you can't control how other people perceive it. All you can do is stand in your truth.
I have carpal tunnel so I can't write more than four hours total without tingling numbness. I take a lot of breaks and do stretches.
I've had people who see all my characters as Native, even if they aren't. It's kind of like assuming all a writer's characters are really female because the writer is a woman. I've learned to let that go.
I do get flak for the lack of romance in my stories.
I don't really get romance. Bring me fish or moose, not flowers.
The critiques I received from my father's community didn't actually have to do with any of the things I'd been afraid of - spiritual or cultural aspects - they were more annoyed that I'd killed off this character or those characters hadn't hooked up or I'd done an open ending and it didn't give them a sense of closure that they were expecting.
I think the best advice I got was to not worry about what other people would think while you were working on your first draft. Focus on getting it out of your head. You can always edit the manuscript later.
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