A Chance for Exposure

Writing a story from start to finish is only half the battle. After you’ve toiled and fretted over that story, a writer needs to get it out there.

As any writer will tell you, the actual act of getting published is hard. Really, really hard. I’ve had much luck with publishing book reviews and the like, but is it what I really want? No. I love to be able to write, no matter what the topic or genre, but if truth be told, I thrive on fiction.

Recently I had my first short story published, but not without a lot of trial and error. I still have numerous stories out there in the world waiting to hear back from potential publications but in the last year, I’ve had so many rejections it’s almost enough to make a person give up. But the reality is, if you want to succeed you can’t give up. But publication is not the only place a writer can get exposure.

Readings! Now that’s fun stuff. It can be terrifying to read your work in front of an audience, but when you’re done and people come up to you afterward and ask for more information about your story, like, what happens next, or even coming up to you months after the fact and saying, I really enjoyed the piece about such and such you read at such and such, it leaves you feeling that maybe, just maybe, you’re leaving a mark. No matter how small it might be.

So, despite the fact I haven’t had a lot published, I have a few readings coming up.

October 26, 2011 Open Mic @ Owl’s Nest Books at 7pm where I will put my name in the hat once again for a chance to read something. There is no guarantee.

November 23, 2011 An Encore Reading of Freshwater Pearls Anthology, also at Owl’s Nest Books. 7pm. I will read from my story, Wednesday, which was recently published in this fabulous anthology, along with fellow writers: Lee Kvern, Lori Hahnel, Susan Carpenter, Frances Hern, Julie Lockhart, Richard Gorecki.

November 30, 2011 Open Mic @ Owl’s Nest Books at 7pm. I may or may not put my name in the hat again. Depends on what happens on the 23rd and how many other people want a chance to read.

March 10, 2012, Writing in the Works 5 @ Memorial Park Library. Now this is a new opportunity for me. Writing in the Works is a program created by Calgary writer, Rona Altrows to give writers who are working on book length projects, actively searching for a publisher, or waiting to be published,  a chance to promote themselves. By invitation only, I am pleased to be asked to participate this year along with writers: Lori Hahnel, Jane Cawthorne, Rea Tarvydas and Rita Bozi.

If you’re a writer trying to get yourself out there, I highly recommend taking part in readings. No matter how big or how small, it’s all part of being a writer.

Hope you’ll come out to see me and all the other talent at these events.

The Potty Project

Who am I kidding? It’s no project. It’s a complete pain in the butt. We’ve been trying for months to get the daughter to pee in the potty. Some days she does it, and then just as suddenly she goes on this stubborn streak and although I know she has to go because she hasn’t gone since last night, she just won’t do it.

Today I decided I would not put a diaper on her. It would be panties or nothing. For the record, she has opted for nothing. Just to spite me I’m sure. Like whatever I want her to do, she will do the opposite. So we sat on the potty most of the morning, and she refused to go. She would sit, she would get up and play, she would want water, she would pull toilet paper off the toilet paper roll, but no matter what she would not pee.

I left her for awhile. Came back and she’s standing on top of the potty, lid closed, but guess what…she peed everywhere. All over the floor, all over the top of the potty, but not at all in the potty. And it was a lot of pee. See…I knew she had to go. And she was close, but not exactly what I had in mind.

Still won’t put a diaper on her. I am determined, one way or another she will be potty trained before she turns 10.

I know I shouldn’t worry. I know it will come. I’ve been told numerous times not to worry, she will do it when she’s ready, but for all those people who say not to rush her, there are twice as many looking at me with a critical eye that says, “she’s three and not potty trained yet? What is wrong with you?” Or worse, “Is there something wrong with your child?

Well, let’s see what the rest of the day brings.

Learning What’s Important

I’ve been ridiculously busy the last little while. Despite trying to write, to finish little projects that are almost there, I have been working…because let’s face it, more money is always good. But I found something that is more than just work. Something that touches me in a way I never could have imagined. Sure, I went into it hoping to find something that would change or maybe even define me as a person. But I didn’t know how much of a difference I could make in a person’s life, or just how much I would learn.

I’ve started doing home care for seniors. This would consist of anything from companionship to personal care. Most of the clients I can expect to get have some form of dementia or maybe even alzhiemers. My first client is a lady, she’s 92 years old and for the past few years started to develop dementia. She has these moments when she slips, not really forgetting who I am, but thinking she doesn’t need me. She’s tried to kick me out a couple of times. But then there are the days she is so lonely she doesn’t want me to leave. The three hours I spend with her, is just not enough. Yet she strives to hold on to her independence, like the moment it’s gone, she is done. My job is to help not feel so lonely, to find her things to do.

Problem is, in her constant complaints of boredom, she doesn’t want to do anything except watch TV. She doesn’t want to walk, she doesn’t want to leave her suite, doesn’t want to read or be read to, she just wants to sit and doze in her chair and complain about the lack of quality television. And, much to my surprise, she doesn’t want to talk about herself either. I was under the impression that most seniors loved to talk about themselves and their pasts, but not this one. Ask her a direct question about her past, no matter how trivial the question or the intention of the question, and she thinks I’m prying.

Which makes me wonder, is she hiding something? Something she doesn’t want anyone to know. A secret? That’s the writer in me, speculating.

By the way, it’s really hard to have a conversation when you can’t ask a few questions. I know sometimes I have a habit of asking inappropriate or personal questions, but of course I don’t do that with her.

It makes me sad to see her hunched over, lonely. Nothing to do but bide her time until it’s time to go. But like I said, it’s not like she has nothing to do, it’s that she chooses to do nothing. Like there is nothing left to live for, and my challenge, to help her find that thing.

She can be the sweetest lady. She can be the most ornery lady. She laughs and smiles, gets sour and agitated. But one thing remains the same, she is so polite.

We painted her fingernails the other day. Something so simple, yet seemed to bring her some great joy. It actually gave me a little insight to her. There are few pictures of her family, those that do exist, kept in her bedroom on her dresser. In those pictures, I see a different woman. Straight-faced, matter of fact…very proper. But pictures only capture a moment in time.

So who is this woman?

I am determined to find out.

A Great Piece of Information

I was reading something today, advice for writers on getting published and as a fiction writer how best to use a blog to my advantage. This guide suggested things like writing blog posts from the point of view of a main or secondary character in a novel or short story to garner interest in the writer. Another section suggested using a blog as a means of sharing the writer's journey: from story ideas to writing routines, because there are a huge number of people out there who will never write a book but are interested in the process.

All good suggestions. And there are a multitude of blogs out there offering writing advice to new writers. Some good advice, some not so good. Or maybe it's not that the advice is not so good, but maybe it's that I don't agree and that's all fine and dandy. Write about what works for me. My process, because no two processes are the same. For example, I tend to write at night when the house is quiet. I don't have a specific place to write because I don't have the room in my small apartment for special space. But other writers find it better to write first thing in the morning, which I rarely can do. Because of who I am and because I have a toddler who is very demanding first thing in the morning. Besides I don't think clearly at that time of the day. I used to. And sometimes it does work, but most of the time not. And there are other writers who have a special place to write. I wish I could be so lucky. Maybe one day. But for now I write where I can, when I can.

I mostly write at the computer, but there are days when I am stuck on a particular scene that I have to free fall write it out on paper to figure out where the scene is going. And there are writers out there who only write on paper and don't make it electronic until a first draft is figured out. I sometimes start my stories that way. When it's just a tiny idea that needs to be expanded, but about half way through I say to myself, I better get this on the computer and I do. Once that happens there is little going back to the paper version.

But that's just me. Everyone is different. Everyone has a way that works for them. And so be it.

More later...maybe a letter from a dead guy is in the works.

And I don't mean Jack Layton, though, may he rest in peace. It's a sad day in Canada, but one still full of optimism.

Wall Art?

I don't think so. A f*%king mess is what I call it. One that is going to require large amounts of nail polish remover to get the marks off the wall and will probably strip the paint at the same time.

I don't get the fascination. Permanent marker, zinc oxide diaper cream, Vaseline, nail polish. Is it a need to express herself in whatever means possible? Seriously, she is already fully capable of expressing herself. Usually in the form of tantrums and throwing things, but it's expression nonetheless. Am I not giving her enough creative outlet? She has colouring books, she has Play Doh, she has paints. But it's not good enough. I must be missing something. 

As annoying as it is, I do understand she is not doing this to drive us crazy. Or maybe she is. Is it a test? Or just creativity.

Whatever it is, one thing is for sure...I want to stick my head in the toilet and flush.

Down By the Bay

Our minds work in weird ways sometimes. You remember the song "Down By the Bay" by Raffi. It was a regular kids tune back in the 70's and 80's. I vaguely remember the song from kindergarten and maybe grade 1. That was over 30 years ago.

"Down by the bay/Where the watermelons grow/ Back to my home/ I dare not go/ For if I do/ My mama will say/ Did you ever see a goose kissing a moose/ Down by the bay..." And so on...

Chicken and Eggs

Over breakfast this morning I came to a startling realization. Eating chicken and eggs together are inherently wrong. I don't why today of all days this occurred to me. I've eaten the pair together in the past, but suddenly today I realized that one comes from the other, granted it was probably a boy chicken I was eating, but something seemed so bad about it. And it spoiled my appetite.

A Spirit of Encouragement: The Alexandra Writers' Centre Society
New article on Suite 101 in preparation for the 30th anniversary celebrations.

First Came Zinc...

And this evening came the Vaseline.

What is wrong with children? Why are they so obsessed with slimy, goopy gunk that makes such a damned mess and gets into the hair and clothes without much of a chance of it coming out? Not to mention they both are to protect from water...so do you think it's easy to just wash away? No...water

Some Things I Hate

1. People that think they know everything. Take my husband for example. Now don't get me wrong, I don't hate him, I just hate some of the things he does sometimes. Like when he's had just a touch too much to drink and I try to have a conversation with him. He suddenly thinks he's goddamned Einstein and no one else can have an opinion or he just has all the answers to all the problems in the world. If only Canada did things like the Europeans we would be much better off. Aargh. And then, rather than

Brilliant and Noteworthy

Some of the greatest writers say, write everyday. It's great advice but so hard to follow most of the time. Right now I find myself staring at a blank page and wondering what the hell is supposed to happen next. And then slowly, one word at a time starts to fill the page. Sometimes there is no path, no final goal. A word turns into a sentence, a sentence into a paragraph, a paragraph into a page and

Freshwater Pearls Anthology

I have a story coming out in an anthology this fall.

The story, Wednesday, will be my first real fiction publication.

Lots of other great writers inside, too.

Click the link to go to the Freshwater Pearls website to pre-order your copy today or you can pre-order copies through AWCS for only $20. Click on their secure web pages to be taken to the online store.

“Wednesday” by Robin van Eck

When I lived at home, Gertrude spent Wednesdays locked in her bedroom. Through the paper thin walls, I heard her moan and cry out as if in pain. Once when I was twelve I unlocked the door with the ink cartridge from a ballpoint pen and barely missed being struck in the head with an empty glass.

Buy the book to read more. Will be available September 2011.

2 o'clock in the morning...

Something freaky happened the other day.

Not the absurd or cool or coincidental kind of freaky, but the I-just-about-shit-my-pants kind of freaky.

I know I watch too much serial killer, sociopathic or just plain psychotic kind of TV and I have no

Worms Working Hard

Worms spend their days eating, pooping and procreating. Not a bad life if you ask me. And they have no brains.

But they are good for more than just fish bait.

New Website...

I finally have a new website...I know you're thinking...but THIS is your website, and you'd be mostly right...but this is the place I spill my guts and say stupid shit and talk about weird things and then amid it all, sometimes I talk about writing and say something brilliant.

But my website is not about that...who wants to be brilliant on their website...most websites are boring, with nothing new to add...the blog is where the good stuff's at.

Anyway...check it out...www.robinvaneck.com It's colourful and sort of artistic...in a finger paint kind of way.

Kind of like this blog...and you think I like pink, don't you?

Going to see a guy about some worms...

Tomorrow is the day...going to see the guy about the worms. Worm farming...should be an interesting field trip. Will post more on that tomorrow.

What's with doctors anyway? I've been having an ongoing female problem and finally managed to find a family doctor. I went in for the wonderful, annual check up, which I admit I hadn't had since October of 2008. Shame on me, I know. But it is what it is. So I went. And I dunno, call me weird but I find it completely unusual to go for more than a year and half with hardly a monthly visit to speak of. It's been there, just not much. And now in the last two months...spotting every bloody day. (no pun intended)

So I talk to the doctor about it and she her best "guess" is Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. I was sent for a whack of blood tests and then waited.

Okay that was a couple of weeks ago.

So today, I go to the doctor because I am also having a blood pressure problem. I think it has a name. Julianne. Anyway, since there is nothing I can about her...I have to do what I can to manage it. So I went in today, for what was only supposed to be a blood pressure check.

So she proceeds to tell me the results of my blood work and other tests. All clear. Whee...I don't have cancer, I don't have high cholesterol and my hormones are apparently normal. Everything...check, check, check.

But then...the results of the urine test. Here's how it went:

Doctor: Did you have any symptoms of a bladder infection?

Me: No.

Doctor: Period? Spotting?

Me: (seriously? can't you read the stupid screen in front of you. That's kind of why I came to you in the first place.) Hmm...spotting for almost 2 months now.

Doctor: Oh? (looks at the computer a little closer) Well I want you to go for another test but make sure you're not spotting.

What? Really? And if I could control that don't you think I would? Cause I have these wonderful powers of control over my body and hell, I am just here for shits and giggles.

And she still thinks it's POS but doesn't have any definitive proof to back it up. If the hormones are good and there are no cysts...then what? Is it still POS? Problem with doctors, we put too much fricking trust in their knowledge but just because they went to school for a hundred years and have a degree or two...doesn't mean they know everything.

Don't get me wrong...I get that doctors see hundreds of patients a week and it's virtually impossible to remember everybody. But...when the information is right in front of her...and she didn't even remember what I was there for in the first place. Blood pressure. Helloooo.

And I wonder, when a doctor gets back test results and something appears a little wonky, shouldn't they review the chart first to see if they can make any sense of the results before talking to the patient. Just a thought, so that they don't look like they don't really give a shit. Which for the most part, they probably don't.

Anyway, a few more tests to come...one related to the above problem, one unrelated.

And that is that.

Worms, Worms, Worms

It's been raining again. For more than a day. The worms are going to be forced from the ground once again and will be found slithering for cover, hoping they don't get trampled by angry feet.

The last time it rained like this, after the rain, I went out for a walk and found myself stopping to admire the slithery beasts, even took a picture. Will add it if I can get it off my Blackberry.

And I am going to see a man about some worms.

Back to the research. I've been kind of putting this off because honestly it involves three things I really don't like.

Worms. Dirt. Garbage.

But it has to be done for the sake of Caleb and Abel and Daddy. I need to know just what's been happening on that farm. To do that...I must start with the worms.

So I called the only worm farm I could find in Calgary. Worms @ Work If you're in need of really good compost, contact them. See, I promised I would do some promotion for them. More to come, I am sure.

And I am going to see them on Monday. Toddler and all. Wearing anything but out best-dressed. It's going to be a field trip. And I suspect, the toddler in tow will be as terrified of worms as she has recently been about mosquitoes and any other small flying insects.

I was reading a book last night. Actually a couple of books so I don't remember if it was bird by bird by Anne Lamott or Writing from Life by Heather Robertson, but one of these ladies said when she does research for one project, often more comes out of that research. For example, I am researching worm farming for a story I am working on, but at the same time, I have now created two blog posts on worms, and there is the potential for an article for Suite 101 on the subject and the Calgary-based company.

A little research can go a long way.

Ack! Worms...

I've been working on a story. As usual. But this one has taken on a life of its own and now I find myself having to research worms and worm farming.

Who would have thunk it?

I hate worms. As a small child going fishing with my dad on the weekend, I couldn't bear to touch those things. My dad had to always put the worm on the hook for me.

When I would walk in the rain and find worms on the side of the road having been forced from the quiet of their homes, I would take every precaution to avoid them. I did not want worm squish on the bottom of my shoe.

In high school when I would help my mom with the weeding of the garden (against my will) I was completely creeped out when a worm would be found coiled or slithering through the dirt.

I would not touch it. But I would not kill it either. Just leave it alone and let it do its thing.

And now for the story.

I won't go into details but through some thoughtful discussion with a dear friend, coupled with an absurd dream I had recently about an old friend becoming a worm farmer (quite successfully I might add) it was decided that it was too cliche to have the farmer in my story be a pig farmer so what the hell, dare to be different...he became a worm farmer. Which led me to the internet and researching anything and everything I could find out about worm farming.

But...there is always a but. The information I found was generic. Could be perceived any way I wanted it to. The only way I am going to fully understand the process is to get my hands dirty. Therefore, I made contact with a local worm farmer and will going on a field trip. Official date is not set, but I am hoping for next week. After the rain stops.

Speaking of rain. I went for a walk yesterday. The sidewalks and roads were littered with worms having been forced from their simple existence. A horrible disruption to their routine of aerating the gardens and whatever else it is they do. (To them, I imagine it's similar to those poor people in Slave Lake being forced from their homes. Or the recent tornado carnage in the US. Sadness.) And even now...more than 20 years later, I still avoid them.

No squish on these shoes.

Art of the Book Review

I'm not sure I would say there is an art to writing a book review. Although many people have been coming to me lately saying they wished they could write a book review and I why don't I teach a workshop on just how to do that. My response is usually that I don't know that I'm qualified because how do I know if the book reviews I write are really that good. I just write them and hope for the best. Hope I don't insult an author, especially if it's someone I know.

But I have been giving this a lot of thought. And I remember a book review I wrote a long time ago that, for lack of a better word, sucked. It was bland and boring and all it did was describe what the book was about. That's not a review. That's a synopsis. It's the same thing you would find on the back jacket cover.

So..a little over a year ago, when I was asked to write a review, I thought I would go into full respiratory failure. How on earth was I going to write a decent review that didn't just sum up a book. A review that had substance and showed I had actually put some thought into what I wrote.

To make matters worse, the first book I was given to review as a collection of short stories. And let me tell you, writing a review on a collection or anthology is a polka dotted zebra, compared to a review of a novel or book on one particular topic.

So here's a few things I did to prepare for that review.

Research
Go through a newspaper, online or in literary magazines and read other book reviews. Ask yourself, what makes this review interesting. What about it makes you want to read the book, or not? Is there something that stands out? Is the review a summation of the book and then an opinion by the reviewer or is there a substance to it?

Be The Reader
Well this is a given. You have to read the book before you can write the review. I always read the book once through without giving too much thought to the review. Sometimes I make tiny notes or mark really amazing passages, but for the most part I read it not as the reviewer but as the reader and along the way think about what makes this book really good, really intriguing, what's intriguing or not about it. Does it remind me of something else, like a time in my life or an experience that I could compare it to? Again, don't put too much thought into the first read through.

Sit on It (no this is not some kind of weird osmosis)
After I've read the book, I leave it for a day or two. After the story has had a chance to percolate and churn, I come back to it. Grab paper and pen and start jotting down the things that I remember - the things that still stand out. Whether it's things about the character, about the theme or about particular scenes, it may all be relevant. I look for commonalities between the things I've jotted down.

Be the Reviewer
Now I go back and often reread the book. Yes, cover to cover. But now I am looking at different things. Great dialogue, great character development, interesting relationships and even the structure of the book.
In collections I usually try to pick out at least one favourite story. This usually isn't hard to do. And you may have different reasons for it being the favourite.

Excerpts
I find using actual excerpts from the book are helpful in creating a structure or bringing out a particular theme or something about the character. Make sure you reference the page number and story and author next to the excerpt.

Excerpts are not necessary to a review but I think it adds something. Not only does it show the author (and the readers of the review) that you actually put time into searching out accurate excerpts, but it gives more body to the review. I have read several reviews that don't use excerpts and I've read lots that do. I prefer reading the ones with the samples. I like getting a little sampling of the writing, but I think it's the preference of the reviewer.

Structure/Good vs. Bad

Structure in a review is almost as important as structure in a book. I like to try and have a natural progression through the review, from beginning to end.

I open most of my reviews with a thought, a comparison to something in real life that mirrors the theme of the book. Maybe even a scene that I've made up myself.

Or I start with an excerpt from the book, or a news related piece. All that relate to the book, of course.

What if I don't like the book? What if it's someone I know and I don't like the book? What if there are some really good things about the book but also a lot of bad things?

I like to structure my reviews much the way I do a critique. Start with the good, mention the bad, and end with the good. Sandwich the negative in the middle and pad it with a lot of good on either side.

But that's me.

If you choose only to write good reviews then so be it, but I think you're selling yourself short. If you choose to write both, great.

I recommend not being too harsh even if you don't like the book. This probably comes from me being a writer. Writers put so much time and energy into their projects that a negative review can be demoralizing. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to sugar coat it either.

I prefer to be diplomatic.

A dear friend asked me not that long ago, if I read a book by someone that I knew and I didn't like it, would I still write the review? I had to think about it, but I came to the conclusion that I probably wouldn't. I also, won't write a good review if I didn't like the book. No matter who it's for.

But there in lays another problem.

Lately I have been asking people to send me books to review. Some of these people are colleagues and friends. What would I do if someone I know asked me directly to write a review of their book and I didn't like it? That, I don't know and hope I never have to find out.

Perception/Interpretation
You will never interpret a book the way the author intended. If you do, it's probably pure luck. I always struggled with the thought of misinterpretation. What if I was wrong in how I perceived the story or theme? That's the thing about interpretation. It's fairly unbiased. Societal, familial and environmental factors make up who we are as a person and how we are going to perceive certain situations in a book. Don't let that hold you back. It adds more levels to the review and there are bound to be others out there that think the way you do, or alternatively, completely disagree.

All I can say is be fair.

Be honest. 

And...be creative.