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Too Hot To Live

30/7/2015

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Good morning, Readers!
Picture
Image courtesy of breakingnews.ie. Click for link.
Yes, this is a post grumbling about the weather.

It's been stupid hot here in Ottawa this whole week.  I cannot handle it.

I stepped outside this morning, and it was raining gently.  It was also so humid that merely walking to the end of my street had me wishing for a pool full of ice.

For those who live in North Queensland - it was as humid as Magnetic Island is during high summer (wet season).  Y'all know how bad it is.  Now, most of you might shrug your shoulders, because it's all relative.  That might not be such a big deal to you.  You're used to it.

I moved away.  I've been living in a cooler climate for longer than I lived in Australia, at this point.  I do not deal well with the heat.  The humidity is killing me.

An aside, my skin seems to be loving it, though...

Anyway, point is, it's too damned hot to live and I can't take it any more!

I have gotten quite homesick, though.  This weather really does remind me of Australia in the wet, and so I'm currently on a kick watching an entertainment news programme from Australia called The Weekly.  It's not unlike The Daily Show with Jon Stewart or Last Week Tonight with John Oliver.

It's a show delivering sanity in an otherwise insane political climate; they are a voice for moderation, empathy and critical thinking in an environment that feels, often, profoundly anti-intellectual.

In short, I love this show.

I watched it last time I was in Australia.  It was the first time I was made aware of the show.  I left when Rove was just coming on the telly, and the news was never entertainment.  It blew me away.  So, instead of me banging on about how hot it is and how much I hate it, have a listen to one of the best interviews I've seen:
And on that note, I'm off to learn more Welsh.

Ciao!
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It's That Time Again

29/7/2015

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Good morning, Readers!
Picture
Image courtesy of raindance.org. Click for link.
As you all know, I'm writing again.

That means life is currently very boring.  The schedule runs something like this:
  • Wake up
  • Dress
  • Prepare lunch
  • Walk to work
  • Arrive at work
  • Eat breakfast
  • Write morning blog post
  • Learn Welsh
  • Watch a couple of YouTube videos
  • Have lunch
  • Write
  • Write
  • Write
  • Write
  • Pack up
  • Go to training
  • Train
  • Train
  • Go home
  • Eat dinner
  • Have shower
  • Got to bed
  • Repeat.
As you can see, it's not the most thrilling recipe for life.  It certainly doesn't make for good reading.

There is a strange paradox that comes with writing.  The words on the page and the scenes in my mind are thrilling.  Every day is an emotional roller coaster filled with adventure, and romance, and battle scenes that really get my blood pumping.

Meanwhile, outside of this little bubble I've created for myself, life plods on, plodding its way as it always has plodded.

In my mind, there is a brilliant, glossy, fiery stallion snorting and stamping his hooves in anticipation of action.

Reality, meanwhile, is a tired nag with a sagging back and drooping head, doing nothing more than carrying her burden and trying to eat grass while on the job.

It leaves me in the weird position of having nothing to really write about in my daily blog posts.  Yesterday, I did the above almost exactly.  Writing went well.  Training was frustrating.  I went home.  I ate dinner.  I went to bed.

That's it.

Turns out that life is boring as hell, even when I am personally excited by the events going on in my head.  It's really a weird place to be.

So, I figured I would open the floor to you.  What are you lot up to?

Leave your adventures in the comments.  I'm off to get knowledge on another language.

Ciao!
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That Was Easy

28/7/2015

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Good morning, Readers!
Picture
For the record, I adore Memes, but this made me laugh hysterically. Image courtesy of beta.diylol.com. Click for link.
Yesterday was day one of my return to writing Daughters of Britain.  I have to say, the story is pretty good.  When I had stopped writing the novel, I was in the middle of the manuscript, more or less, and suffering from the middle slump.  Writers know what I'm talking about - that middle part of the manuscript when you feel like everything you're writing is utter crap, and the story is crap, and I'm crap and everything is crap.  The shiny new story ceases to be exciting.

Turns out, upon rereading it... It's not actually crappy.  I'm excited by the story again.  There's a little more romance in this one than I would have liked, but it's an incredibly satisfying sub-plot, really.  And the main story and the main character are as kick-arse I wanted them to be, as I imagined them to be.

I wrote only a little new stuff yesterday, having spent ample time fixing the things that needed fixing in the story, but the words came easily.  In fact, I was still aching to write long after I normally stop.  I was writing down to the last possible minute of the day.  It was wonderful!

I know I've said it before, but there really is no high quite like the writing high.  There is no greater thrill than the rush of words pouring from your mind onto the page via your fingers.  There is not greater joy than tapping furiously at the keyboard in a mad frenzy, turning ideas and visions into words on a page, fingers flying in an effort to keep pace with the images zipping by the mind's eye.

Though I only wrote roughly a thousand words yesterday, I came away feeling so incredibly satisfied.

Buried deep in the editing process, I completely forgot how wonderful writing felt.

Even though it's hard work.  Even though it has me cursing and crying at times.  It's still, to me at least, wonderful work.  I'd gladly suffer the burden of the work to experience the feel of it.

I imagine anyone who loves what they do will understand.  Carpentry is hard work, but to a carpenter who loves his craft, it is happy work.

That's what writing is for me.

You know, until I hit the next mid-manuscript slump and I fall beneath an avalanche of frustration and writer's tears.

Writing really is like riding an emotional roller coaster.  Right now I'm on a high.  Hopefully I can keep it that way.  But first, Welsh!

Ciao!
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I Cannot Show Off

27/7/2015

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Good morning, Readers!
So Friday was a fantastic day.  I basically spent the whole time painting... digitally, but it still counts.  I wish I could show off my latest work today, but alas, despite 6+ hours of work, I'm nowhere near finished.  I'm probably about two thirds done?  Maybe a bit less.

I'm disappointed because I'm really, really pleased with how this one is turning out, and I really want to share it with all of you.  It looks better than I thought it would when I started the project.  I was fairly nervous about it, because it's quite an ambitious piece.  As of now, I'm pleasantly surprised by how well it's turned out thus far.  We'll see how I feel when I'm finished.

Alas, I won't be finished until this coming Friday, probably, as today marks day one of me taking up Daughters of Britain once more.  As always, with my being away from the writing for so long, I'm not certain I'll be able to pick it up with ease.  I have a couple of things that I need to change, so I might be getting rid of a fair amount of stuff I've already written.  That's always upsetting, if entirely necessary.

I might be in tears by the end of today.

We'll see.

Isn't weird how nervous I get when I begin anything?  It's odd that I get nervous when I pick up my digital paintbrush (stylus.  It's called a stylus) and sit before the digital canvas.  There is no one watching me do this thing.  Yet I still get the clammy palms and rapid heartbeat that signals nerves.  The same for writing.  There is no one there to watch me tap away at the keyboard.  For good reason.  I imagine it would be the most boring thing in the world to watch.  Still, I get really nervous about the whole sitting down in front of my word processor for the first time (or second time after a prolonged break).

I'm not sure why this happens, but I'm fairly certain that it's because I'm scared that I'll be a disappointment - to myself, to my readers, but mostly to myself.  I expect big things of myself; so big, in fact, that I routinely fall short of the mark.  It's probably not the healthiest way to be, but when I do hit that mark, I feel so good.  So, so good.

Still, because I have this tendency to psych myself out, I'm tempted not to write today.  I'm very tempted to disappear inside my painting again.  IT's a legitimate excuse.  But no!  I must be disciplined!  I must get to writing.

Who knows? Perhaps it will turn out to be easy as pie.

Fingers crossed!

But first, Welsh!

Ciao!
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Week Off!

23/7/2015

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Good morning, Readers!
Picture
Image courtesy of blog.adventureescapades.co.za. Click for link.
Finally!

I have finished the extensive edits to Sky Road Walker and it has been sent of the Beta Reader One.  The book is finally in the last few stages of edits and I couldn't be happier.  Trying to get this manuscript cleaned up and vaguely publishable has taken a long, long time.

Now I can get back to writing Daughters Of Britain.  I had stopped writing it precisely because I wanted to have Sky Road Walker in with the Beat Readers this year.  In order to achieve that, I devoted all of my writing time to editing, rather than parcelling it out as I usually do when it comes time to edit manuscripts.

I can now devote all of my time to finishing the rough draft of Daughters of Britain.  As I have been away from it for so long, it might take me some time to pick up the threads of the story again.  I'm a little nervous that the story has died.  Hopefully not.  Probably not.  I have the ending so very clear in my mind.

I do suspect that I will have to make some fairly extensive changes to the manuscript, though.  I was floundering a little there for a bit, with no real clear direction one way or another as to how to progress.  This happened with Human as well, actually.  I made one small change in one characters occupation, and everything fell into place.  Something similar will probably happen with Daughters Of Britain.  

However, in order to preserve my sanity and energy, I am taking the rest of this week off from all writing obligations.  In this time, I'm permitting myself plenty of daydreaming.  But it's focussed day dreaming.  I'll be re-reading what I have written thus far on Daughters of Britain, and then letting my mind work through the knots and kinks in the story on its own time.  Hopefully, by Monday, most everything will have sorted itself out.

Since I'm already past the halfway point in the word count, I'm guessing that it will take me about a month or two to finish the manuscript up properly.  Then it gets filed away for a couple of months while I tackle my next project.

My next project is this:

The Great Man.

Yup.  That terrible story that gave me nightmares and vicious mood-swings while writing.  I've decided to self publish it.  Extensive rewrites are needed, I think, before the first book is publishable.  I will be aiming to have the first book, The Third Prince, published in 2017.   Sky Road Walker will be my 2016 release... unless I get The Third Prince rewritten and respectable well before Hallowe'en of next year... In which case, I'll try to have it out for that release schedule.  We'll see.

So, that's where I am at the moment.  Except for this week, during which I am nowhere.

Right, I have Welsh stuff to learn.

Ciao!
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Okay. I Might Be a Little Badass...

22/7/2015

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Good morning, Readers!
So.... Saturday I did a thing.

That thing was the Hot89.9 BADASS Dash.  It's another obstacle course race.  Apparently the Spartan Race taught me nothing.
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Guess which one is me? The dork in the Transformers shirt. Duh.
I was struck by how different this race was to the first obstacle course race I've ever run.  The Spartan Race and the BADASS Dash were two very different experiences.  Very different.

I came away from the Spartan Race feeling defeated, angry at myself and frustrated.  I came away from the BADASS Dash feeling strong, happy and content.  The BADASS Dash was so much fun, while the Spartan Race was just tough.

The atmospheres were very different too.  The Spartan Race felt serious and hyper-competitive.  There were buff bodies and dudebros everywhere.  The BADASS Dash, however, felt more like a small fête.  A carousel would not have been out of place there.

The courses themselves were also vastly different.  The Spartan Race had a huge focus on muscle strength - a whole lot of lifting stuff and shifting stuff around.  They had separated the tasks according to gender (grrrr) so that, if she wished, a woman could take the easier option.  The guys could not also take the easier option.  This annoyed me about the Spartan Race.  The BADASS Dash, on the other had, was focused much more on dexterity - there was more jumping, more crawling, more climbing, more swinging, and even some swimming.  Somersaults.  There were somersaults!  Also, my favourite thing about the race, there was no gender segregation.  All genders had to do the exact same thing.  The only separation was between the recreational runners, and the elite runners.  The elites had to do more push-ups, sit-ups, and climb higher stacks of wood than we did.  It was not, thankfully, gender based.

The BADASS Dash gets it.

The BADASS Dash was also a lot more sheer fun.  The atmosphere helped a huge amount.  So did the competitors.  You know that feeling you get when you walk into a gym and it's full of posturing meat-heads, and you end up feeling judged and small?  Yeah... that was what the Spartan Race felt like.  And then you know those gyms with a vast variance in attendees many of whom are grinning ear from ear and are welcoming and friendly?  That's the BADASS Dash.

Even the volunteers for the BADASS Dash were miles different from the Spartan Race.  They were bright and friendly and wildly encouraging, open to laughing and joking with the runners.  Not so much in the Spartan Race.  There was one guy at the Spartan Race (he sounded British, not that that means anything) who was friendly and smiley.  The rest were like miserable drill sergeants.

Everywhere you went during the BADASS Dash, you were reminded that this was a fundraiser, earning money for Autism.  Your finishing prize was a medal that was, admittedly, on the cheaper side.  I love this about the BADASS Dash.  I liked the cheaper medal.  It meant the money was being spent on research instead of prizes.  I'm a little sad I didn't get a shirt, but again, that means the money is being spent on charity instead of prizes.  This made me really happy.

The Spartan Race's prize pack was way better.  A solid medal that was actually cast with the Spartan Race Logo instead of being a generic round medal with a logo sticker in the centre.  There was an admittedly really awesome finisher shirt you got at the end too.  Guys, it's a fantastic shirt.  I wore it for tennis... er mah gerd, I love this shirt.  Anyway....

Unless you specifically go in with a charity you want to support, the Spartan Race really is only about the race.

The BADASS Dash had 39 odd obstacles along it's 7km route.  The Spartan Race had maybe half that along it's length (also 7km?  I can't remember now).

The Spartan Race is something I will do just to prove to myself that I can do it.  I will do it maybe twice more to give me space to complete it to my satisfaction.

The BADASS Dash made me feel like a kid again.  All the jumping, and the climbing, and the swinging, the burlap sack race... it was so, so much fun.  This race I will happily do until I can no longer run... and then I might just grab a walker and haul my arthritic self all over that course.

I cannot wait to do this race again next year!  If you want to join me next year, I'm thinking of dressing up...

On that note, I have Welsh to learn.

Ciao!
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Oops! I Arted!

21/7/2015

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Good morning, Readers!

Now, some of you may have noticed a teeny tiny change to this website.  For the less observant of you, it's the header.  The image on the page header has changed.

It used to be a blue-ish mountain range scene.  That was a generic scene that came with the website template that I chose.  It was pretty.  I liked it well enough.

And now it has been replaced with something much more... original.  You see, I arted.

Art was always one of my favourite subjects in high school.  I would often spend my lunch hours in the art studio.  It was a great place to get creative and hide from the bullies that made my high school experience one of the worst experiences I've had to date.

I loved art.  I still do.

I never pursued art because I just didn't think it would be a viable way to make a living.  Joke is on me, I guess.  I have a 'real' job and I'm still poor as hell.  Le sigh.

Anyway, this year I decided to take the whole New Year's resolution thing seriously, and I made a list of things I wished to achieve.  A chin up was on that list.  Focus on writing Monday to Thursday was on that list (that was an easy one to achieve.  I'd been doing it for a year already).  Also on that list was make more art.

For the first six months of this year, I failed miserably at that particular goal.  There simply was no space at home to paint.  I struggled to make time as well.  So, quite suddenly earlier this month, I decided that I would save up for a digital drawing tablet and some software that would let me paint digitally.

Turns out, I didn't need to save up at all.  One of my friends was willing to give away their Bamboo tablet for free as it wasn't working on their system any longer.  And I found a free, open source drawing software called Krita.  It's a great programme, actually.

I decided that, since Friday was my rest from writing day, I would use it to draw.  The first Friday (a fortnight ago) ended in misery.  I failed so very badly at creating the image I had in my head.  Never mind that it had been over a year since I picked up a paintbrush.  Never mind that this was my first real time using the software.  I was upset and angry at myself for being so unable to transfer the image in my head onto the digital canvas.

I felt like crying.

Yes, I'm hard on myself.  But someone has to expect big things of me.

Still, I picked up the stylus again the following Friday.  I watched YouTube video tutorials on how to paint oceans all morning.  They were for actual paint on actual canvas, but I figured the basic principals ought to be the same.  I watched tutorial after tutorial all morning, then got to work in the afternoon.

Over four hours later, I had this:
Picture
I'm not going to lie.  I'm rather proud of this effort.  That said, the longer or more often I look at it, the more I see where I went wrong.  Still, I think the was a really good first try.  I would not be unhappy to display this piece in a gallery.

If you think you might like it hanging on your wall too, you have that option.  Click HERE to go to my newly created Redbubble shop where I'll be selling my digital art prints.  Actually, artists, if you're not looking to sell your art yourself, but reckon it's too much of a hassle though you might like to sell a few prints, I highly recommend Redbubble.  They take care of all the production and shipping for you.  You just upload your stuff, and you get a percentage of the sale price (you set the mark.  The default is 20%).  It's super easy.

So, not a bad piece all told.  I'm certainly encouraged to paint more.  I'm bursting with ideas now.  You will be able to see the new pieces as I create them.  In the menu above, the "Art" tab now has a drop down menu.  All new pieces will be going onto the "Digital Art" page.  There's only Here There Be Dragons on there now, since it's the only finished piece I have.  I'll try and announce new additions on Facebook and Twitter as they happen.

I have to extend another thank you to D.E. for just giving away her tablet like that.  I am eternally grateful that I have the opportunity and ability to paint again.

For everyone, whether you fancy yourself skilled or not, go out and art.  It is amazing the benefits you will reap.

On that note, I'm off to learn the art of language!

Ciao!
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    S.M. Carrière, a Celtic Studies enthusiast, writes fiction.  And this blog.

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