Been a long few months since my last blog (confession?) but I can assure you that I’m not dead. Not dead, but not in a happy place. Tina Belcher’s face above says it all. (Although technically my website redirect was offline for at least several weeks so, now that that’s fixed, the website isn’t dead either. Anymore.)
This summer wasn’t an easy one, and my sense of dread got worse as it went. I pushed through writing, kept showing up to the page, and hit a nice production milestone for the year early, some 125,000 words. The bulk of that was on the new novel but it was getting away from me in much the same way that earlier attempts at this novel got away from me. I was still hopeful about the novel on submissions, mind you, but otherwise wasn’t submitting. Felt a little like wheel-spinning. I had been feeling the lack of a regular, hard-core critique group keenly for the last two years, and then a lead from the spring landed me the opportunity to join one this fall. With the Surrey International Writers Conference right on its heels, I figured I’d be back on track – refreshed, refocused and ready.
It didn’t. SWIC kicked my ass despite great feedback on my Blue Pencil sessions and a Full Request for the novel. Should have been flying high, but wasn’t. I was frustrated, flailing. The new critique group was terrific, exactly what I needed, but everything else wasn’t. It felt like everything was yelling at me and I couldn’t hear my own voice anymore.
So, I stayed away from social media, because it was starting to hurt. Stopped listening to podcasts whenever I was walking and just walked. Starting work on a personal Kanban board to keep track of all the projects I had let languish. I tried to find some focus while I left the novel to sit.
And then that election. That election. That election that will in our lifetimes only ever need be referred to as that election. Astounding, disappointing, devastating … and yet was it really that surprising? Was it really that much of a shock that people would so crudely vote against their interests, against the evidence, against their fellow human being, given what we all watched, what we all laughed at, and what we all believed was too ridiculous to be true?
If a man says he’s going to do horrendous, stupid, evil things, don’t laugh – believe him.
So I’ve been gutted, like everyone else. I’m not even American, and like most of my Canadian brothers and sisters, I am shocked and horrified. Hate speech and hate crimes have of course erupted, not just in the US but up in Canada, too. (There are some saying that up here it is just shits screwing around for attention, but fuck them for wanting to make people afraid for their own amusement. That’s only a slim degree of difference from the real thing.)
I have watched my American friends mobilize despite their grief and shock. I wish them courage and success in these hard years ahead. (Not interesting – don’t call the next four years interesting, don’t you dare.) To my Canadian friends all I can say is don’t get complacent.
They thought it couldn’t happen there, and it did.
We’re not that different.
We have the Charter of Rights and a progressive history, but look at what’s stirring up in some parts of the Conservative Party on our side of the border. Be prepared to say, “No, that is not Canadian. That is not how we do it here.” Be prepared to speak up, be prepared to vote. We have seen what complacency has done in the UK and the US and cannot permit the same mistake here.
In the interim, I can watch, I can witness.
I can speak up, I can support.
And I can make art*, for as long as I’m not dead.
(*Someone else can tell me whether it’s good or not.)