Good morning, Readers!

Last night, I streamed some more Death Stranding.  It was actually much less annoying this time around than the last time.  That was nice.  I actually made progress, and my cursing and screaming were kept to a minimum.  I'm sure my neighbours appreciated that.

In my writing, I have to say that making the shift to the new project was probably the right way to go.  I wrote two thousand words on Tuesday, and another thousand yesterday.  The story is going well so far, and it's done wonders for my writing self-esteem.  I was really struggling there for a while.  I am still a writer.  Phew!

Now, this new project will probably never be published.  For reasons.  But honestly, though I have dreams of being a well-read author (requiring publishing, duh), that's not the primary reason I write.  I write because there are a thousand voices in my head, each whispering their stories to me; quiet, but insistent.  If I don't write them down, those voices become something like water torture.

A single drop of water is nothing.  A single drop of water hitting the same place over and over and over in an unending rhythm is horrific.  Those quiet voices are the same.  They whisper and whisper and whisper, and no amount of ignoring those voices sends them away.  They simply continue to whisper in their quiet insistence until I write their words.

I write because I feel like I'd go mad if I didn't.

That doesn't mean, of course, that I'm content with just writing.  I have a weird ambitious streak that keeps pushing me to do better, and be better, and get 'seen,' as it were.  That part's not going so well, but the writing?

The writing is chugging along just fine.

So... what will I do with this thing I'm writing when I'm done?  I have no idea.  I have a few enquiries I suppose I could make, but other than that, I may just end up putting it in a drawer and never looking at it again.

And then I will sleep with a smile on my face, because that's one less whisper in my ear.

Then I'll have a nightmare, because a new whisper will replace it, but that's neither here nor there.

Writing is, for me, a peculiar kind of madness.

And so I'll writing this thing that has no hope of publication until the story is done, just as I'll inevitably return to the project I've temporarily abandoned and finish it.

For now, though, I've returned to having fun with my writing.

I'm off to do just that.

​Ciao! 

Good morning, Readers!

I think it’s fairly evident by now, after one year of writing for this eZine, that I am a gigantic dork. I have come to terms with this, accepted it, learnt to love it, even.

So it is entirely without shame that I proclaim how deeply in love with the show The Quest I fell when it aired some five years ago. Four? Hang on, let me check. I was right the first time. Five years ago.  Holy mackerel. Five years ago. When the season ended I was, along with a small, but dedicated group of fans (waves vigorously at The Quest Army (also, despite being a huge fan of the show, I only discovered The Quest Army last year, and I’ve never been happier than knowing that these wonderful folks exist)), eagerly waiting for news of another season. That news never came. And so, we gathered in our small corners of the internet, writing letters, begging for news, hoping against hope.

Well, not three weeks ago, our hoping, writing and begging paid off.

The Quest is finally, five years later, getting its second season.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m fairly sure that at least half of you have no idea what the hell I’m talking about.

Good morning, Readers!

I have at last exhausted the list of agents I had to query Outworlder to, save for a couple that open up to queries later in the year.  I still don't like the title, but it's still the best I can come up with.  It's been nothing but disappointment thus far, which is par for the course when you're trying to get published.  It's been saddening, of course.  I had a lot of fun writing Outworlder, but it might be that I'm the only one who might find it fun.

Of course there's still hope.  I haven't heard back from all the agents, after all.

Not that I will.  Many are absolutely inundated and simply can't send a reply unless they're interested.  That's fair.  Most of them indicate timelines, so if I don't hear from them by then it's a pretty safe bet that it's a 'no.'

Still, even with all the results not in, it's hard to remain hopeful.  I know I just need one agent to really love my stuff.  Just one.

It's also really hard to keep writing while these rejections come in.  I've been struggling to finish the second book in the series, and with other ideas begging for attention, I'm wondering if I shouldn't leave the second book aside for a while and instead focus on these other stories.  Maybe it'll help drag my writing out of it's current malaise and reignite the fire that keeps me writing usually.

I'm thinking that maybe I might start on the new story.  Since it's not one that I can sell, I don't think (I'm keeping it vague for reasons, so don't ask), the pressure is off, and I can just write.  There's another story that I have a vague outline for, but don't have the starting point yet, that I might also work on concurrently.  I don't have as good an idea of where to start as I do for the other new project.

I don't know.  I'm just feeling rather bummed about it all right now.

I'll be fine, of course.  I'm just sad this morning.

Right, I think I've made up my mind.  I will go ahead and work on that new thing for today.  It starts in a therapist's office.

​Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

So, I have completed the first week of I.F. It's going well... I think?  I haven't noticed any weight loss, but, to be fair, I haven't yet weighed myself.  My clothes appear to be fitting still, so I haven't gained any weight.  That's good.

Something I have noticed is that my energy levels have increased, particularly of a morning.  I've noticed that my naps on the bus on the way to work have stopped.  I just don't need them.  I'm awake and alert, and in good spirits.  While I'm normally in good spirits in the morning, I'm also generally still tired, and snooze a little on the bus.  Having dealt with horrible fatigue pretty much all my life, this small change was absolute the most noticeable, weirdest experience ever.  I've never, ever woken up feeling refreshed.

This past week was good for that.

And it's so weird.

Also, my energy levels at martial arts training at the end of the night are similarly high.  I don't gas as quickly or for as long, I'm able to work harder for longer, and usually, at the end of the night, I have enough energy to go for a run.  I haven't gone for a run.  Because it's winter outside, and running on Ottawa footpaths in the winter is begging for a broken ankle.  I might, though, when the warmer weather hits.

So, that's the first noticeable change I've experienced since starting I.F.

It's only been a week, though, and I'm keeping a careful eye on things.  I've ruined my metabolism before following terrible dieting advice, and I've spent the past two years focussing on healing the damage to my body, and the terrible relationship to food and my own body that I've managed to acquire over the years.

If things start going downhill, I'll definitely be readjusting my trajectory.

One of the many pitfalls of I.F. that I've come across in my research is how, like many things that have to do with food and body image, it's a very small jump from it to a full blown eating disorder.  I've skirted eating disorders once or twice, so I know the warning signs.  Thank heavens for therapy, which showed me where I started to go wrong and why.  So, I'm also in touch with my therapist (or, at least, the office.  My therapist has retired and I'm without currently).  They're really good about answering quick texts without charging, which is nice.  If ever I feel like I'm about to teeter over the edge again, I will book an appointment.

As many of you know, I struggle a lot with depression.  Attached to that is, of course, a whole unpleasant stew of related issues, not least of all are body image issues.  It's a struggle keeping everything in check, but I have a lot of love and support from family and friends, and access to mental health care when I need it.  I have a lot that others do not have access to, and it helps so, so much.

I share my story so publicly because honestly it wasn't until people started sharing their stories that I realised I wasn't alone, and it empowered me to seek help.  Sharing stories is how we end stigmas, find tribes, and help each other along in our healing journeys.

On that note, I wish you so much love and help and support on your own journey, and I'm here for you.  You can heal.

Right, I have to go to the gym in less than an hour, and I have a lot of work still to do today.  Have yourselves a lovely day.

Ciao!

Update: It is now 1:30pm, and I've returned from the gym (strength training today) and I've weighed myself.  I've apparently lost just under 1kg (that's a squeech over 2.2lbs, and right in line with healthy weight loss, so I'm not nervous about it).  Now I need to eat lunch.

Good morning, Readers!

Last night, the travelling musical show We Will Rock You played in Ottawa for it's second night.  I went, this being the first stage show I've seen in a long time.  I do miss going to the theatre, and should really make an effort to go see more plays.

As I knew someone involved with the production, I got to take a sneak peak backstage.  I was hit with all the amateur theatre nostalgia from before my anxiety stopped me from stepping onto a stage.  It was all so very familiar back there, including the cast and crew playing cards while they waited to get ready for the show.  I honestly miss being part of theatre.  I miss the rehearsals.  I miss the playing of cards while we were waiting for our turn onstage.  I miss acting.  I do not, however, miss being on stage at all.  I hate people looking at me at the best of times.

For those who are unfamiliar with the show, it's essentially a weird science fiction/post-apocalyptic story where all music that is not computer created and performed is outlawed.  A group called the Bohemians are the resistance, searching for the Dreamer, spoken of in prophecy, who will retrieve the last musical instrument and revive Rock and Roll.

The story is about as silly as it can get.  The premise would be considered corny even in the eighties.  The show, however, leaned hard into it, even drawing aesthetics from the eighties' idea of what the future might look like.  There were many terrible jokes that played off song lyrics and puns, and a silly, over-the-top evil second in command.  The whole thing was so very dumb.

And also hilariously entertaining.

The actors were great, with particular note to the character of Scaramouche (don't ask).  The actor, who I think is Keri Kelly, was absolutely brilliant in this role.  The character herself was so very well written, being both stubborn and sassy, and quite clever.  I loved her a great deal.  She was by far and away the best thing about the show.

As I've previously noted, the plot was... not great.  The story was dumb, sometimes ridiculous.

However, if you can let go of the nonsensical, eighties-inspired plot, and just let the music (all stuff you should know by heart) carry you along, then this musical is hella fun.  Even better, the musical doesn't take itself too seriously, unlike Cats, which has an equally stupid plot but takes itself far too seriously.

Honestly, if you're up for a night of spectacular music and some silliness, you can't go wrong here.

Gosh it was dumb.  Gosh it was entertaining.

Right, I have work to do, so I'm off to go do it.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

Well, so far, the I.F. seems to be going pretty well.  I woke up this morning no more hungry than usual, and my training last night had not been adversely affected.  I am tired, but I'm tired every morning after martial arts training.  We'll see how it goes.

That's not the point of today's blog, though.  The point of today's blog is simply this:

CAN*CON IS NOW OPEN FOR REGISTRATION!

I've raved about this convention before now on this very blog.  It's a good convention, run by wonderful people who really, really care about speculative fiction and, more importantly, the people in the SFF community.  I've never not felt welcomed at this convention, even when I had only one book.

This year, they've opened registration this month, despite the event not happening in October, and a good thing too.  Last year the convention sold out, and folks that wanted to attend missed out.  This year, they're giving people as much time as possible to register, though I imagine there will still be a cap to the numbers.

So make sure you register!  Get in early, so you don't miss out.  I mean it.  You'll kick yourself.  Click HERE to do so.  Bonus, if you do so soon, you get early bird pricing.

Right, I have to go and do work and things.  Have yourselves a lovely day.

And register.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

Yesterday I wrote.  It wasn't much for me.  I recognise that a thousand words is a lot for some, but for myself it's not much at all.  It was a struggle to get there.  Hopefully as I write, I'll get back into the swing of it and I'll be back to my usual pace in a week or so.

I certainly hope so.  I want this book to end already.  That's probably not a good sign.

The point is that I wrote, and writing is not a sprint, it's a marathon.

In life news, I've decided that I'm going to give intermittent fasting a try.  I started doing the research on it after a friend of mine begged for diet help,

By the way, and this is totally related, if any doctor promotes a starvation diet for their clients, GET RID OF THAT DOCTOR!  They have no business practicing medicine, and I am FURIOUS at her.  Not only does chronically under-eating calories prove to be absolutely ineffective when trying to lose weight; it's dangerous for the body and counter-productive.  It drops the BMR (Basal Metabolic Rate), and so weight loss simply stops.  And even if (and that's a big 'if') the weight is lost, returning to a regular amount of calories means that all the weight returns and then some.  Because you've fucked your metabolism.

Having consistently struggled with my weight, and ruined my metabolism with a completely ineffective starvation diet, hearing doctors recommend it makes me so, so, so angry.  It's the worst thing you could ever do.  Ever.

Anyway, I was researching weightloss for my friend to see if I could help him at all – once my rage at his doctor calmed a little (it's back just thinking about it) – and I came across Intermittent Fasting.  I've heard about it for a little while before this, but I ignored it for the most part.  My research, however, seems to reveal that it's not as gimmicky as many diets out there.

For starters, it's not a diet.  It's an eating pattern.  Essentially, you eat for roughly eight hours in a day, and fast the rest.  There's no counting calories, or particular food restrictions.  The hope is, of course, that persons practicing I.F. would make sensible choices while eating, like limiting sugar intake, and not eating a colossal number of calories.  Have a salad, not a bag of chips.  That kind of thing.

Starvation is absolutely discouraged.  In fact, most of the research I've come across makes sure to point out that though the eating window is much narrower, the number of calories should not be restricted, keeping the metabolism healthy.  So, for myself, my BMR is roughly 1400 calories.  If I was completely sedentary, I would need to consume about 1700 calories to keep myself healthy and maintain my current weight.  For the record, that's 500 calories more than calorie restrictive diets say I should eat.  In fact, they had me eating 200 calories beneath my estimated BMR.  That's suuuuuper unhealthy.  That's basically eating less than the calories I would burn if I spent all day asleep.

LOL. NOPE.

I started it yesterday.  We'll see how it goes, but for the first day, it wasn't hard at all. I have timed it, after all, so that I'll be fast asleep when the worst of the hunger would ordinarily hit.  I woke up this morning no more hungry than I usually am of a morning, so that's one thing I don't have to worry too much about.

As I do a fair amount of exercise in a day, despite spending most of it at my desk, I am now aiming to keep my calories around 2000 in a day.  That's so much more than I was, when I was trying to lose weight by dieting (calorie restriction).  I'm not sure I got there yesterday, given how much food that is, but I'm super glad to be focussing on eating healthy instead of trying to stop myself from eating things even if they're healthy and I'm really hungry.... Unless I'm in the fasting state.  Then I'm allowed only black coffee or any kind of tea as long as there are no additives (including 'flavours') as those would break the fast.

This stuff is probably boring for all of you.  I'm sorry.  It's just that I've struggled since I can remember, and I've done so much damage to myself in the trying.  Researching this stuff has been really interesting to me, and heartening, actually.

And no one worry.  If I find that I don't feel good, or start getting sick, trying this out, I will stop.  I've learnt from my mistakes.  Right, I have to learn French now.

Ciao!