Remembering Laurel

I’m having a good cry this morning, because it should have been Laurel’s (my step-mother) 69th birthday today. She succumbed to her Alzheimer’s a few years ago. Her relatively-young death was what prompted Michael’s and my move to pick up our entire life in Vancouver and strike out to try something new, leading us to Salt Spring Island with a garden, chickens, and a spectacular view where we could both concentrate on our writing. Laurel’s death gave as that push, but it is her life that I always wish to celebrate yet find myself incapable of articulating my … joy … grief …

Because it is the small things I remember, that I miss …

How when I visited in the summers, she would give me the bits of pastry leftover from making a pie, showing me how to sprinkle them with sugar and cinnamon, then roll and bake them into tasty morsels.

How she would always talk to everyone in a room … that person who no one else seemed to talk to …

How she would bring me photos of people I didn’t know, who I still don’t know or remember that I’m supposed to know, and she would tell me all about their lives … or a conversation she’d been having with them …

But mostly, there was this thing she did … this way that she twisted her hand when pointing something out – she was left handed – and … I recall that and I weep … just her pointing something out to me. Something she was holding, a flower bud or shiny rock. Or someone in one of the photos she’d brought to talk to me about. It was this simple twist of her wrist, something so unique to her, something I’ve never seen replicated.

It’s easy enough to write about grand gestures and impassioned actions, but when I remember Laurel it’s that twist of her left hand, pointing something out to me that I recall, that I mourn the loss of.

She was kind. There isn’t nearly enough of that in this world.

She was worth the tears.

Me, age 3, with Laurel. I love this shot – taken February 1977 in Tillicum Park, Victoria BC (according to my Dad’s handwritten notes) – because I imagine I requested the kerchief, wanting to wear one as she did.

Grammar tips from the editor

So as I worked my way through the multiple drafts of Catching Echoes, Reconstructionist 1, I highlighted every instance of ‘effect,’ ‘affect’, ‘past, and ‘passed’ that I came upon. I did so because I invariably use one or more of these words incorrectly at least once in every book. Yes, no matter how many times I go over the sentence, no matter how many rules I recite in my head and apply, I always get at least one wrong.

After editing over thirteen of my novels, and I don’t know how many of my screenplays – ten? fifteen? – my lovely editor, Scott Fitzgerald Gray (aka SFG)(who you can find on his Insane Angel website), suggested I might want to jot down the following rules on a Post It! note, then attach said note to my computer screen.

I did one better. And then thought I should share with you all.

Please feel free to share (I’ll also post these separately on Twitter and Facebook for that purpose). And it’s back to writing for me!

Avoiding Editing

I’ve taken my capacity to avoid editing to an entirely new level with Catching Echoes, Reconstructionist 1. A sampling of the avoidance techniques I’ve employed in the first three hours of my day are as follows:

Completely mapping out the ending of Dowser 9 in my head while taking a shower and blow drying my hair. I have at least four more books to write between R1 and D9.
Discussing the fine details of the song Michael is currently writing, including the musical ‘makeup.’ And, yeah, I know nothing about music. Not. A. Thing.
Making a wish list of small fruit I’d like to add to the orchard NEXT SPRING, including researching optimal growing conditions for a Meyer Lemon.
Social media posts. Including posting a picture of my cats on Instagram. Because what could possibly be a better way to waste time?
Listening to music to ‘get me into the head space,’ then writing large random chunks of Reconstructionist 2.
Coming down with a head cold. This is an amazing feat, because I never leave the house so I have no idea where I could have picked up a cold. So therefore, logically, it’s self-generated. Like a reverse superpower.
Blogging.
This post needs a picture, let’s see … hmmm … chickens?

So now that my shame is out there, and everyone knows the lengths to which I will go to avoid editing, I will now be forced to edit for the remainder of the day … and for all the days between now and my deadline to get R1 back to the editor.

Oh! But first, a hot chocolate. [That’s not an avoidance tactic, it’s a fundamental need].

In which I get bamboozled.

I just wandered into the kitchen to find Michael playing Tetris with the fridge freezer.

“Wow,” I said, seriously impressed that he’d taken the time to divide the turkey mushroom casserole into individual meals and portion out the turkey pot pie filling.

“We have a lot of food,” he said, grunting with effort. “I’m trying to get it to all fit.”

“Oh,” I said, blindly walking into his trap. “Maybe we should take something out.”

“Good idea. How about this?” Michael grabbed a green Tupperware container, popping it open to reveal the very last Clarity in a Cup*. “Oh,” he said, utterly blithely. “Only one left.”

So yeah. That’s how Michael just tried to steal the last cupcake in the house.

I got the final word though. Just as I was exiting the kitchen and dashing out to the office, I said, “we’ll halve it at coffee break.”

*Clarity in a Cup will release in my newsletter, Cupcakes, Chocolate, and Other Magical Musings on November 1, 2016. If you aren’t a subscriber yet, you can sign up here.

On Laurel’s 68th birthday

This lovely human being, my stepmom Laurel, would have been 68 years old today. She passed away just over 2 years ago. I was going to dedicate my monthly newsletter to her today (since I inadvertently scheduled it for the same day as her birthday) but I became a blubbering mess when I tried to write it.

Instead, I shall post one of my favourite pictures of Laurel, celebrating her birthday at the family cabin she loved so much a few years before she left us.

I miss you terribly, Laurel. Even two years later. My world remains diminished. Lovely, kind-hearted people should never leave … the world is already severely underpopulated by such souls.

Love and light, Laurel.

The [belated] anniversary of Terry Pratchett’s passing

GIVEAWAY CLOSED. WINNER TBA

Sir Terry Pratchett passed away a year ago on March 12, 2015.

I blogged about his passing here.

For the [belated] anniversary of his death I would like to celebrate his work by hosting a giveaway for a copy of Wintersmith, which was the first book of his that I ever read. I’m slightly peeved that I’m ‘belated’ with this post – I did have a warning in my calendar that somehow let me down – but better late than never!

To celebrate Sir Terry’s life and his work, I would like to buy Wintersmith for one of you – for kindle, or iBooks, or Kobo, or in paperback. You name the format and I’ll buy it.

Comment below to enter. Tell me your favourite book of Sir Terry’s, or why you’d like to read Wintersmith specifically, or if you’ve read Wintersmith already who you’d like to gift it to (and why).

RIP Sir Terry Pratchett. Thank you for the entertainment, the inspiration, and for the strong women and inspiring world you created.

Notes/Rules: OPEN INTERNATIONALLY. Each comment will be assigned an entry number. ONE winning entry will then be selected via random number generator. One entry per person. Please make sure to fill out a valid email address in the comment form. Email addresses are not collected for any purpose other than notifying the contest winner.

If you haven’t commented on the blog before, or you comment from a different IP address, the comments are moderated. So don’t worry if you don’t see your entry right away. I will approve it, then assign it an entry number.

Giveaway closes TUESDAY, MARCH 22, 2016 at 8 p.m. PDT.

<3 <3 <3

Virtual cupcake party for National Cupcake Day for the SPCA

This year I thought it would be great fun to support the SPCA on National Cupcake Day. To that end, I opened an ‘online bakery‘ for Cake in a Cup and I’m inviting you to make a donation. I’ll be hosting a virtual party on my blog and on Facebook and Twitter throughout the day.

Here are some of the ways the SPCA uses your donation to make a difference in the lives of animals:

Just to make things extra fun … and because I can’t give you all actual cupcakes … each minimum donation of $5 will receive a personal thank you email from me (YAY! LOL!) and a sneak preview of a recipe from Dowser 6 once it is ready for release. Whoot! Simply DONATE HERE [green donate now button] and email me a screenshot of your donation to info [at] madebymeghan.ca

Dowser 6 cupcakes sneak peek — Dowser 6 cupcakes – a sneak peek

And to make things REALLY fun, I’ve also put together a prize pack! Each minimum $5 donation PLUS a picture of a cupcake you baked to help celebrate National Cupcake Day will be entered to win:

An autographed paperback of Cupcakes, Trinkets, and Other Deadly Magic (Dowser 1)
Dowser series postcards and a thank you from me 🙂
A Cake in a Cup T-shirt

The same rules apply as above, donate a minimum of $5, take a screenshot of your donation, email it to me at info [at] madebymeghan.ca and post a picture of your cupcake in the comments here or my Facebook page or tag me @mcdoidge on Twitter. I will assign each cupcake entry a number, then run a random number generator to select the winner.

OPEN INTERNATIONALLY. Donation/entries must be received by Monday, February 29 at midnight PDT. Only entries accompanied by a proof of donation will be assigned an entry number. Prize pack will be awarded by random number generator.

An afternoon walk in January on the West Coast

Walking under mossy boughs, mud and tree roots tangle our feet along the edge of Duck Creek. Despite the roar of the run off, a breath of peace captivates our ever-teeming brains. Then it’s back to work …

It’s not you. It’s the toilet seat.

Warning: Possibly TMI

Yes, this is a post about toilet seats.

For the past 24 hours whenever I shifted on or off the toilet, I felt a nasty pinch on my left ass cheek. At first I ignored it, assuming it was just some weird isolated body ache. But then, as it happened again and again, I grew concerned.

Yes. Concerned.

Concerned that somehow my ass had gotten so big, or perhaps so flabby, that I was pinching my own flesh as I sat down or stood up.

Finally early this morning, I looked at the toilet seat.

It’s cracked.

See?

Um, yeah. I totally scrubbed the toilet before taking this photo. Who wouldn’t?

Upon discovering this sliver of hell, I immediately yelled “the toilet seat is cracked!” to Michael.

“I told you I broke it,” he called back, completely unfazed.

Right. That did sound vaguely familiar. “I thought you meant you broke the hinge or whatever. It’s pinching my ass.”

“Yeah. Just be thankful you’re not hairy.”

So yeah. That happened.

And the moral of the story?

Michael didn’t assume anything was wrong with his ass.

This. This is what women do to ourselves. We assume that the problem stems from something we’ve done or from our fatty deposits. Before anything else occurs to us, we assume we are fat and that it’s a problem.

So let me be the first to say … It’s not you. It’s the toilet seat.

Happy (Belated) New Year!

I’ve been off in Vancouver being far too indulgent for the last couple of days. I also got to meet a sweet six-day-old boy, who I’m hoping will call me Aunty Megs one day (though technically we are ‘friend’ related, not blood). I showered him with knitted goods and held him for a micro second as he appropriately screamed at me. He’s lovely.

I’m back a work today and will be going into lockdown on Dowser 6 on Monday, January 4th. I won’t be allowed out of the writing shed except to eat and sleep until the first draft is complete.

Self-imposed deadlines are never a bad thing. 🙂