Good morning, Readers!

Image by Thomas Dardenne from Pixabay

I missed posting last week. Oops! So much for getting my act together.

I'm going to try getting myself in the habit of blogging at least once a week, slowly increasing as my schedule and abilities allow. Getting back into the habit is not easy. Breaking it was much, much simpler.

There's a lot of life-stuff still happening. I feel like I have finally unwound from my year-long wandering in the darkness of the soul. I've blossomed. It really is astounding how much I'm come alive since the move or, rather, how dead I had become inside. For starters, I've been painting up a storm!

One of the projects I had planned for forever has begun; and entire booklet of tiny watercolours in honour of the Year of the Tiger. So far, I've only completed two, having started the third on the weekend. Still, I'm really pleased with how they've turned out. Watercolour is an unfamiliar medium for me, so it's been a bit of a learning curve... and a test of my non-existent patience, but the out come has been worth it. I present to you, two tiger snoots:

The third one I've started is also a tiger snoot, but a little less boopable.

Then I'll be moving onto the eyes... or maybe the toe beans. Toe beans are so cute!

I'm planning another watercolour series that I'm keen on getting started on, but I am waiting until I have a little more experience with the medium... and I will be buying different watercolours. The ones I'm using now are those paints that are a palette of dry pigments, and I'd like to try a slightly wetter version. Each piece in the new series is going to be vaguely monochrome, so I can spend the time to save up for the paints.

Maybe I'll even sell a piece one of these days, and I'll be able to buy a bunch of new paints all at once!

A girl can dream.

I've also nearly finished my first painting on canvas in well over a year. There are a couple of things I need to fix up before I post any pics of that, though. Painting on canvas again has been absolutely wonderful, by the way. Without anyone but the cat to worry about, I'm able to play my music and paint. My most recent session, I stood at the canvas and danced as I painted. It was such a wonderful, joyful experience. I have missed painting so much.

I don't have any inspiration for more canvas paintings, but I have no doubt it'll happen. In the meantime, I have my ideas for watercolours to look forward to.

By the by, if you're interested in my art stuff, and couldn't be arsed with the rest of my nonsense, I have a Facebook page just for my art. If you're on Facebook, feel free to give it a like/follow. I put my art on there... and also on Instagram and TikTok. And DeviantArt.

As I stumble my way to normalcy, I have once again enrolled in martial arts with Wutan Canada. I have been teaching the whole way through, but after stress-induced symptoms that matched Covid (but never came up positive on the tests), which developed into a complete inability to function whatsoever (yay depression!), I had let it drop in the session before last. Then, last session, I had a move to deal with, and I still wasn't quite right once the move happened, so I didn't go at all.

The first class for the summer session is tonight.

Perhaps I would have found myself sooner if I had gone last session, what with training being such a rock for me in the past, but I really didn't feel up to it in any way. One accidental slip or annoying peer away, and I might have lost my mind for real. As it is now, I'm stupidly excited to return to training. I'm practically vibrating with anticipation.

Teaching is not the same as training, and I've rarely gotten the opportunity to punch and kick stuff while teaching, so I'm really keen to get going again.

I'm still holding out hope that one day soon I might be able to acquire a permanent place for us to train, so that we can avoid the bouncing between locations, and can concentrate on building a great body of students. I mean, we already have great people, but I want to share it with as many people as possible.

I keep promising writing news, and there is some, I promise. For now, though, this is what you get.

I hope you're all well and thriving.

Thanks for sticking with me all this time!

Until next week, then.

​Ciao!

Good afternoon, Readers!

I do have life updates and writing news, but I had a crazy weekend with little spare time to write this week's post and I'm at work on a very quick break, so I thought I'd let you all know about my publisher's hunt for acquisition readers instead. Here's the goss:

References

Even though this reading work is done on a volunteer basis, this still counts as work experience, which allows us to act as professional references for you in future employment endeavours!

Industry contacts

Renaissance is a member of the Association of English Language Publishers of Quebec, the Association of Canadian Pubilshers, and the Literary Press Group of Canada. One of our co-founders, Nathan, also sits on the board of directors of LitDistCo. We get all their newsletters, and we keep very informed of what is going on at other independent presses, which means we can easily pass on job opportunities and other industry news to you, as well as invite you to meetings you might be interested to sit in on, which often provide trainings and/or insights in the current Canadian publishing landscape.

Fun books to read

We have received SO MANY amazing stories every time we have opened for submissions in the past, it was sometimes physically painful to say no to some of them. One of (in our opinion) the best perks of reading our incoming manuscripts.

Confidentiality

Authors who submit to us trust us with their precious book babies, and we owe it to them to exercise the utmost discretion with it. Be respectful of their creative labour and do not disclose anything you read about the manuscript outside of filling the forms and speaking to Renaissance staff, whether positive or negative; authors deserve to know their ideas, characters, and worlds are safe with us.

3 years after having published a book with us

If you have published a book with Renaissance before, please know you cannot be a reader for us until three years have passed since original publication.

2 years before publishing a book with us

If you choose to be a reader for Renaissance, please know that you cannot also submit a manuscript for our consideration. You must wait at least two years after your resignation from reading for us before you may submit a manuscript.

Other conflicts of interest

You may not be a reader for Renaissance the same calendar year as a member of your immediate family, such as a spouse, parent, or child, submits a work for publication.

You may not be a reader for a work of which you are friends, ex-friends, ex-partners, or family with the author (this includes cousins, niblings, in-laws, grandparents, etc.), or any other person you have an existing relationship with (neighbour, co-worker, dogsitter, cat’s ex-lover’s sister-in-law, etc.) This rule is true whether the feelings you have towards this person are positive, negative, or neutral.

You may not evaluate a work you are also evaluating for another publishing company.
​
Please make use of judgement when evaluating whether a conflict of interest exists. You are required to disclose any conflict of interest immediately as they arise.

Yay for copy and paste! Alright, I have to run back to work now.

​Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

​Image by snibl111 from Pixabay

This weekend saw many returns to myself.

For starters, I finally got working internet. A month after moving in (for real - my internet stared working Jun 2nd), I returned to being able to reach out to the digital world when I'm not at work. A good thing, too, as I'm still doing the job of two people at work while they search to replace the coworker whose mess I am currently trying to clean up. I'm making progress. I'm no longer so out of my depth that I constantly want to cry, so there's that.

I am thrilled to have internet again. Now I can do writing work, art work, blogging work, and gaming work, all of which requires an internet connection. This post, for example, is not being written on my lunch break at work. I can now free up that hour for other things. There is much that needs to be done, and now I have an extra hour in which to do it.

But I was talking about returning.

Not just returning to binge-watching YouTube videos.

For the first time in over a month, I jumped into live-streaming Friday evening. I picked up right where I left off, playing Horizon Zero Dawn. It was so much fun, and it was awesome to have everyone drop by and watch me flail around like a tit, as I had forgotten nearly everything. It was so much fun. Honestly, I was grinning like an idiot all evening following the stream. I did a little happy dance. It really was awesome. And the best part it, the internet held up, mostly. I was quite worried that I'd be slammed with constant crashing, dropped frames and so on. The internet cut only once, and the stream itself was really quite smooth.

Also, it was nice to not be interrupted, or feel like I had to censor myself, and not be my true dopey self. I could be loud and annoying, and the only one I'd be annoying (besides the audience) is Galahad. Though, to be honest, he was doing a good job of annoying me. It was no nice.

Saturday, I reactivated my Skillshare account and took the first couple of lessons in finger-style guitar. It's the first time I've picked up the instrument in over a year. It felt really good to be back play again, though I've lost most everything. My fingertips today are very sore. I need to get those callouses back. I am approaching the learning in a two-pronged approach. It's finger-style (or folk) guitar I'm most interested in learning, so I will be continuing with the Skillshare course, as well as the Learn & Master book I started going through in the beginning to teach myself. The book is *really* good for exercises and theory (as well as learning to read music... which I could do already, but the finger placement on a guitar is not the same as on the flute or saxophone).

It was so lovely to play again. I haven't practiced yet today, as of the writing this, but I shall as soon as I'm done this post. After a year away, I've lost so much ground, but I can make it back. With luck, patience and practice, I'll hopefully be playing all of my favourite folk songs within the year.

I also started one of the many art projects I have planned. It's just a small thing, and I managed exactly one half of what I wanted to achieve on Saturday, but it's better than nothing. And it felt good to put brush to paper. Before I pick up my guitar tonight, I'll be adding the second half of the thing I started Saturday.

Sunday was also a return; a return to my Coffee & Creativity live streams. That just where I get up of a Sunday morning, make some coffee and sit down to stream me creating art of some kind. I'm currently working on digital art, but I'm looking to getting a decent video camera so I can set up for also doing analogue paintings and such. I have so many painting ideas now, and it's killing me!

It was so lovely to sit and draw and chat with folks who were also creating, all without the usual (what felt very deliberate) noise from the room immediately beside. It was lovely and quiet. I put on my music, I chatted and created, and drank coffee... cold because I forgot it existed for a while there.

I find I am still struggling to get my act together and actually sit down to do the thing. That's why the Coffee & Creativity stream is such a help. With it, I'll have started at least one art project for the month. I'll have gotten something done. In the months that I've done it, I've always come away with a finished piece.

Because I missed May, due to the move, my mental health recovery (ongoing, but doing so much better; it's like night and day), and no internet, I missed out on creating an art piece for the month. So, I'm kinda cheating this one. The prompt for this month was 'Diametric.' The piece I'm creating, which I still feel might be far too ambitious for my abilities, is a single piece, but it can also be split up, creating three distinct pieces. In this way, I'm able to negate the missing art piece that would have been May's and even add one to my count. I'm gaming the system, folks.

I meant to spend my Sunday doing so much more, but I drew for hours and hours after the stream ended. I neglected to do the mopping because of the time I spent drawing (though I did get my other chores done). I forgot about eating breakfast. Oops. It was so nice to just sit and paint. And, it means that I'm well ahead of where I ought to be with this piece, so I can work on other projects in the time I have allotted for it in the evenings. Which is good, because I have so many ideas.

Right, now it's off to practice my guitar.

​Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

I did mean to be blogging Mondays every week since my return post a couple of weeks back. 

Alas, as the writing of this, I've not yet managed to get internet in my apartment, and with my taking on the workload of and cleaning up after a recently departed, entirely ineffectual coworker, means that I don't have much spare time at all. I've snatched a few moments on my lunch break today, however, for an update.

First, and foremost, I am feeling so much more myself. I am still setting up my apartment, but despite having an incomplete living room and studio... and still no internet (grumble)... I am in fact feeling more contented than I have in a long time.

Creativity is returning. I am suddenly bursting with ideas for paintings, and I'm so excited to get to work there. Soon! I just need to buy something into which I can unpack my paintbrushes, paints, papers and sketchbooks. I was passing by DeSerres in the St-Laurent shopping centre, and they have something that looks like it would work well. It's called the Really Useful Storage Tower.

I'm also dreaming up what I can do with my living room. There's already growing a little exercise corner. I have my dumbbells all set up. I'm getting an exercise bike from my father, who is no longer using his. And there'll be space enough for floor work.

My living room proper is still a little sparse. My bookshelves are up and filled. Just looking at them make me happy. My gaming system is all set up, which will be great as soon as I get internet. I need a sofa, and am looking for either a butter yellow or turquoise one (this one caught my eye recently). I have my father's old Laz-Y-Boy rocking chair. It's very comfy, but does make it a little awkward trying to game when the cat wants to share my space (adorable as hell, though). A rug would be nice, a side table, and maybe a coffee table. I'd also love to have a small side table or buffet thingy in which to store my alcohol.

Houseplants are also on my list. Did you know Ikea sold living plants? I sure as hell didn't. I am eying the potted bamboos. I'd like at least three - one for my bedroom, one for the kitchen, and one for the living room. I bought myself a wee $10.00 yellow rose bush from the supermarket on a whim and it went from one blossom to five in a week. It sits on my bedroom windowsill, enjoying the morning sunlight, and every time I see it, it makes me smile. I'd love to get a sage plant for my kitchen. I adore the smell of fresh sage. My little spider plant, the one plant I was given (thank you, TV!) in my old place that survived the dark, and the atmosphere, is now recovering. It was once quite large, and by the end was reduced to three pale, dying leaves. Now it has four. Another is growing. It's colour is brighter. That, too, makes me happy. It's sitting in my studio, and I can't wait to give it a few plant friends. I'm looking at some low-light plants like ivy for the tops of my bookshelves, maybe some lavender and a short tree or two for the living room (it's a big space).

With rent being so high, it's going to take me a while to save up enough to get it all together, but I'm really enjoying dreaming up ways to decorate the space and make it my own. I'm considering painting accent walls, but I'm undecided since it's a rental, and I know I'd be too lazy to paint it back when I leave.

Anyway, I'm feeling really good. My home is a safe space now. I'm feeling so much more rested. My creativity is returning. That's the most important part to me. I'm grinning now just thinking of it.

I'm glad to be better. I should be able to blog weekly soon... as soon as my internet is up.

Grumble

I hope you're all well. Thank you for staying with me through the past few years. Some writing news to follow soon, I promise.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers.

Image by Ingo Jakubke from Pixabay ​

Well... it has been quite a while, hasn't it?

I'm sorry.

I was not well.

Things were... difficult. It wasn't just the rapid explosion of changes, change being one of the biggest challenges for my weird personality to deal with. It was the nature of the change, as well. It was the burden of restrictions. The CPTSD triggers, and the resulting petrifying depression that resulted. It was my inability to do anything, for fear of conflict, from exhaustion of dancing around conflict, and all the small pleasures I gave up in order to avoid that conflict.

Home life was... tense for me.

The woman I was living with was... difficult.

It all seemed fine when I first met her. But when I moved in, the control measures started. I was forbidden from using fragrances; which was fine. I could give those up, even if they made me happy. Then I was forbidden for cooking in the manner I wished. The smoke was an issue - regardless of whether there was smoke at all. I gave up some of my favourite foods to cook in the manner I was prescribed; the singular manner in which I was permitted to cook. There was an incident when I was cooking, in the manner prescribed, which appeared to result in a coughing fit. Until she investigated the manner of my cooking. Then, like a miracle, the coughing stopped.

I tried many compromises, none of which worked or was to her liking. There was a small fight over the air fryer, which I bought specifically so I could cook my favourites without fear of smoke. But I was forbidden to use it. Not outright, of course, but by her behaviour when it was in use, and the terse conversation that followed.

Once, I received an accusatory email demanding that I never use soy candles again. It was disasterous for her health. Only, I had never used any candle at all, let alone a soy candle. But the accusation came all the same.

I was blamed for a strange smell from the bathroom... though I suspect it was the fact that she had a shag carpet in there as a bath mat which caused the musty smell.

Later, I received another accusatory email demanding I never use my air conditioner again. It rattled the apartment and thrummed terribly, keeping her awake at night. There was no investigation, just the sharp accusation. My tiny window unit could not be responsible for the noise... and it wasn't. I proved it when the noise and rattling began anew, despite my unit being turned off.

I was blamed for foodstuff on the stove top, causing smoke when the elements were turned on, despite the fact that, due to the restrictions on cooking, I never used the stove but for to boil eggs.

I was expected to be responsible for cleaning the kitchen should I walk in and encounter a mess - whether I was responsible for the mess or not.

Rules that were in place for me were flouted by her. The rule to wear headphones. The rule against fragrances (she used and air freshener in the bathroom). No cooking smoke in the kitchen.

It all built up. False accusation after accusation, my every attempt at finding compromise rebuffed with terse words and seething, the continuing restrictions.

It got to be that I was afraid to do anything at all. I retreated to my bedroom, where I lived, like I was a permanent resident of a capsule hotel. I ate in there, because I couldn't face the anxiety of being in the same space as her. I would arrive home, crawl into bed and watch YouTube until it was time to feed the cat. After, I would return to my bed to watch YouTube until it was time to eat, or go to bed. I stopped doing all the things I loved - stopped cooking, stopped learning guitar, stopped using my studio to create art. I hid away to avoid her, to avoid the anxiety that bunched my shoulders, turned my stomach and pounded in my head. I made myself as small, as quiet, as invisible as possible.

And in doing so, I lost myself. The resulting misery sapped my strength, rendering me incapable of anything except going to work and my once-a-week chores... and at times I didn't even manage that (my laundry habits suffered, for example).

Everything suffered. I missed deadlines. Birthdays. Important functions. Emails went unanswered. Dream gigs slipped through my fingers as I watched, unable to so much as curl my fingers to grasp the opportunity. I've missed out on so much due to my own inability to act.

Depression is a terrible, paralyzing weight.

All my efforts, in the end, were for naught. I was kicked out; given no later until May to find alternate accommodation. The stress nearly killed me. Rent was absolutely unaffordable, despite my working a full time job. I could not find anywhere. Having a renewed aversion to living with someone, I would regardless be forced to cohabitate again; denied the distance, silence and solitude I personally require to heal. The prospect brought me to despair.

My luck turned, thankfully, and after a difficult move (which I will describe in another post), I found somewhere to live. It's not without its flaws, in a not-great part of town, and expensive. Finances are a new stress, but the payoff thus far has proved worth the expense.

On my second night in my own apartment, with no one but my cat (whose judgements are far easier to bear) intruding in my space, my lower back, where I tend to hold my tension, finally snapped back into place with a sharp, painful crack. The headache I had for months on end faded and has not returned. I slept deep and woke refreshed for the first time in recent memory. Suddenly, I had energy enough to not collapse into bed the minute I got home.

The change has been remarkable. I am stretching to a human form once more after nearly two years of cramming myself into an unremarkable lump, hoping to pass notice.

It's a process. I'm not there yet.

I still need time.

And silence.

And solitude.

But I finally have somewhere that feels safe enough for me to begin.

I can see the parting of the mists.

I don't think I'll be back to my pre-first-move self for quite a while. I won't be able to keep up with the Monday to Thursday blog posts as I once did. But I'm starting to come back.

Thank you for your patience with me, for my long absence and silence. I ask for a little more as I make my way back through the fog.

​Back to myself.

Good morning,

I quite like the vaccine passport, actually.

Image courtesy of sadid at Pixabay

As I write this, an occupying force of white supremacist pro-infection domestic terrorists with a mandate to forcibly replace our democratically elected government has entered Ottawa. The services we pay to protect us are either cowards or complicit, and have done nothing that even closely approximates the jobs for which they are paid.

The residents of Centretown are subject to levels of noise that can only be described as torture. Sound/noise as a torture method is a documented thing. And the occupiers are using it now, as I type, on the citizens they are professing to be fighting for.

The authoritarian nature of the movement is something I will leave for now, except to say that those running the whole thing, with money from foreign interests, don't give a shit about the mandates. They're simply tapping into the selfishness and childishness of those who are bothered by them in order to acquire an unwitting force in numbers. This letter is instead aimed at those who feel they are protesting in good faith - that they are fighting for our freedom.

You do not speak for me.

I quite like the vaccine passport, actually.

Knowing that public places require such a thing ensures that I can go out and have a lovely meal and a few drinks with my friends, knowing that everyone there has been vaccinated, thereby mitigating as much as possible the risk of catching something I may unwittingly carry to high-risk loved ones, possibly being the cause of their untimely deaths or life-long incapacity is incredibly freeing. Being able to go to the cinema to catch a movie with a high-risk loved one, knowing that the risk to their health is as minimal as possible, frees me of fear and stress. It means I can go out with far fewer worries than I ordinarily would in a world where a single disease has killed 5.1 million people thus far (though likely much more, thanks to under-reporting), and crippled so many more.

What you're fighting for is the end to that comfort. What you're fighting for is the exact opposite of freedom for those of us who care about the health of the people around us.

And you do not speak for me.

Here's the thing, you are fighting for nothing. You are free. No one is forcing you to get vaccinated. There are no posses going door to door, holding you or your loved ones down and injecting them. That is not happening. You are free to choose not to get vaccinated. You are free to choose not to wear a mask. What you are not free from, however, are the consequences of those choices. That's what you're fighting for. You're fighting so that you, specifically, will be free of the consequences of your free choice.

I can understand why the concept of consequence is difficult for the majority of you to take. I don't blame you. I highly suspect that you've not come across it all that much, given how you've faced absolutely none for your illegal occupation and intimidation of Centretown. Your parents have failed you, alas. I lay the blame on their feet.

Your inability to grasp that consequence is not the same as oppression is a mark of the privilege you have enjoyed all your life. It has made you small, cowardly, selfish and soft. You cannot so much as bare to do the very minimum to protect the citizens of your own country. It's an inconvenience. And an inconvenience is too difficult. This is your problem, however, and yours alone.

You do not speak for me.

I fully believe that you have been manipulated by the powers that seek to destroy democracy. I've seen it in every thread online. I'm fighting for YOUR freedom. You have been told you are heroes. Freedom fighters against the unjust oppressions of a smug autocrat. My dear, you have been lied to. Stalking the streets with your comrades, you may feel mighty when you bellow at folks just trying to go about their day, feeling that nothing will happen to you should things turn sour. Mighty is surely how heroes must feel, no? But my dear, you are not a hero. You are an unwitting foot soldier, and as soon as your use is done, they will abandon you, as they have done so many others. You are being used in a larger, more nefarious plot. Your own fears and misguided hatreds are being used to manipulate you.

It is not my freedom you are fighting for. It is your own selfishness that you so violently seek to defend, to justify.

And you do not speak for me.

You do not speak for me.

You do not speak for me.

You.
Do.
Not.
Speak.
For.
Me.

Good morning, Readers!

Image from webandi on Pixabay.

So at the start of the year, I bought myself two nifty notebooks. One was just a regular daily diary; small and compact, and very pretty to look at, for me to carry around and make notes in regarding my goals and schedules.

The other was a business workbook, because I want to get on top of my creative life and get it to start working for me.

I must confess, I’ve not been very good at keeping up with my goals, particularly as it pertains to trying to make a living from my creativity. There are lots of little things I could be doing, that I ought to be doing, like small bits of promotion that I’m just not doing. I find if I set out the intention to do them, and make it a goal, I’m much more likely to get it done.

It’s how I kept my word count on track before I hit my latest depressive spiral, and it’s helping me both get back on track with my writing and to beta read a manuscript for friends. So, last week I sat down to play catch-up with my business notebook. I was supposed to be updating it every week, but I neglected it after the first week of owning the thing; some three weeks ago.

Happily, I managed to accidentally make one of the goals for the (earn more than $100.00 from my creative efforts), as I recently crossed the payment threshold on Twitch, and earned some grocery money for myself. But that was entirely incidental. I need to focus my intentions more directly.

So, I’m going to try. If I do it long enough it will become a habit, and if it becomes a habit, it will be less of a struggle to keep it up.

The hope is that I will one day be able to maintain a livable income from my creative life, so that I can step away from work that doesn’t light me up and make me happy. I haven’t been very intentional about it before now. Since letting my work out in the wild and hoping for the best hasn’t really worked, I’m going to be a whole lot more proactive about it.

Probably. I hope to be. I still feel terribly squicky about self-promotion, but I’m also fed up with my current situation. Something’s got to give.

Anyway, I’ve been struggling with the very basic stuff, which is not how I wanted to start off my year. But these things take patience (of which I have none, so that’s going to be a fun thing for me) and practice. It’s probably going to be messy for a bit.

Wish me luck!