The Marrow Thieves by Cherie Dimaline has been marketed as dystopian—which it is, taking place in a future Canada ravaged by global warming where people have lost the ability to dream—but I found it to be just as much, if not more, of a coming-of-age story.
I didn’t really consider it my resolution, but around January 1st, I got fed up with how long SC, my big bad book, was taking to finish. My—well, my resolution, to this issue was to write 500 words before bed every day so I’d finish it faster. And for the first week, with the help of late nights and coffee shops, I did it.
TW: Discussion around rape.
There was some controversy this year in Canada when a radio station/broadcasting company “banned” the song “Baby It’s Cold Outside”.
Okay, when I said I’d finish 2018 “broke and happy” in my last post, I did NOT mean for the universe to take that as a challenge.
Last week Monday, I went to a theatre audition. I’ll spare you the suspense—I didn’t get it. But I ran into a few people I’d gotten to know since joining the industry, and one of them said to me, “I see you in, like, everything.”
If you’ve been around long enough, you might remember I had written and directed a short film called SIV, based on the short story I wrote (this is the original short story, and this is the sequel from which the short film was made), and which premiered earlier this year.
I recently read a great article “Minimalism is Just Another Boring Product Wealthy People Can Buy” which raised some great points about how minimalism and nice decor are out of reach for most people, and it got me thinking. The rooms and dorm rooms I’ve decorated over the last five years, could I have done those if it weren’t for my parents’ and my place of financial privilege? Answer: Probably not.
When I approached the counter of the Starbucks I’m currently writing this from, the barista, Michelle, greeted me by name. This Starbucks is across the city from where I live, so this was slightly concerning. However, it’s five minutes from Heritage Park where I’ve been going to rehearsal five times a week for the last two months.
After I plotted two books beginning to end, I thought I’d write them a lot faster. Instead, I seem to be writing at the same pace as I’ve always written, and due to my limited time, my word count has grown at an even slower pace than it did when I wrote the first draft with no plan at all.
I was supposed to be editing after I got home from some meetings last night, but instead I looked up a few articles about plotting—and, more specifically, about plotting an ending—and then the end of SC (my big bad book) popped into my head.