The Year it really Lands

Blog Post No. 429

Last year was a strange one for a lot of reasons. It’s about this time each year that the event train leaves the station and starts building steam for the spring and summer rush. There may be a comicon or and book fair and (if we have our act together) a retreat. From there, the plans reach full swing and I’ll be booked at least one weekend (potentially two or more) a month for the rest of the year. Everything ground to a halt last year because of the pandemic, but after eight years of working on this writing thing, it felt like an anomaly. We did manage to get the retreat in before things were shut down, but the scheduled events after that were all cancelled.

Bookapalooza!

Blog No. 209

I love road trips. Even taking a two-hour jaunt to London (Ontario) for a day sounds like a good idea for me. I love driving, I’m cool being a co-pilot, and I’ll even rock the back seat. I just enjoy the trip. Not sure if it’s the movement, or the moving, or what, but it’s a good time. Bookapalooza was my second out-of-town event ever and (it being in Whitby) the furthest one to boot. Needless to say, I was looking forward to the trip (even if I had to share a room with Christian).

Multi-Topic (Because one wasn’t enough)

Blog No. 196

The last few weeks have been stuffed full of tasks needing my attention. More than writing or publishing, I’ve had work, family, and general domestic responsibilities come home to roost. I’m not sure if any one of them is worthy of being a blog post on its own, but perhaps together they can make up the approximation of one. As usual, I’m not necessarily sure where I’m going from here. It may just be a list of stuff I’ve been doing (not including all the slacking off I manage to fit in throughout the week. But that could be fun right?

Even the Smaller Ones

Blog No. 195

Last weekend I was invited to Essex for a Farmer’s Market. Initially, Christian and I thought we were going to be at the Busker’s Festival in Walkerville, but that fell through. Somehow, as if by magic, the organizer of the Farmer’s Market called up Christian, asking if we’d like to get a table there. I’m not sure how things work out like that some times, but it seems to happen a lot with us. We’ll be wondering what to do in the coming month and be invited to an event, or another author will tell us about something we haven’t heard of yet. Most of the events are small, but that doesn’t matter much. Sometimes it’s nice to have an easy day filled with nice people.

Day of Kings

Blog No. 189

Over the last few years (around the same time I’ve been working with Adventure Worlds) I’ve had the rare opportunity to see some of my favourite bands live. Due to my extreme age, many of them have since left whatever spotlight they may have had (some of them even haven broken up). Three of the most notable experiences have been seeing Mystery Machine at the FM lounge (now any empty space), going to Hamilton to see the Killjoys play a reunion show on New Year’s Eve, and  now I get to add going to Toronto to see Limblifter. It’s no coincidence that all three bands are Canadian alternative Rock. It’s also no coincidence that I saw all three shows with my musician brother. (Not to mention how awesome all three concerts were).

Acting

Blog No. 185

As a young boy, whenever I enjoyed a movie (and I watched so, so many) I would spend the next few days imagining myself as part of the universe. It started simply as wanting to be the main character (who doesn’t want to be Indiana Jones?) but quickly developed into creating new characters and scenarios to add myself into. I would be an old buddy of Indy who is just as cool, but isn’t afraid of snakes (and could land the plane). It wasn’t about being in the movie, it was about being part of the story. It’s likely the root to all my storytelling desires. Before I figured out the key difference between being a character and an actor, I thought acting might be a good career. Not only do you get to be in movies, you get to have money, cars, and excitement. The dream of being an actor lasted a few months (at best). Who needs that kind of attention? Besides, it’s real work. Like hard work and long hours (and that’s when you’re successful). Though the dream died, my fantasies didn’t. To this day, I tend to daydream about what characters I would be in my favourite movies. It’s a good exercise and it excises the desire to make your characters too perfect.

Shocking

Blog No. 184

What the heck London Ontario? Seriously. No banks are open on Saturday? Only one, but it’s on the far side of the city? Who does that help? What do business do if they run out of change? What is a person who is running a table at an event supposed to do if he runs out of change? What is this, the 90s? Is it just a London thing, or is it weird that Windsor banks are open Saturdays? I’m blown away. Of all the things that happened last weekend, that one was the most shocking—and I was at an event called Shock Stock.

Last week I did a split post about going to Shock Stock and being in a commercial. I thought it would be good to write about both of the major things happening to me. I figured I could just do this one as s split post too, but now that I’m back, it may be better to just stick with one and leave the other for the next post. Which is what I’m doing, right now. Since I’ve already started with my rant on London banks, I may as well stick with the convention.

Lights, Camera, Sell some Books

Blog No. 183

The fun never ends in the world of Adventure Worlds. This week is no different. This weekend is likely going to be the first high point of the year (after the book launch that is). Christian and I are packing up his car and heading for London Ontario to spend three fabulous (likely rainy) days at Shock Stock. The three day horror convention is the largest event we’ve been a part of. It’s also the longest, furthest, and most expensive. Not only is the table a pretty penny, but we are staying in a hotel to boot (oh la, la). Add on some food, a few drinks, and the money we’re likely to spend on other people’s tables, and we’ll be lucky to break even.

London Nerves

Blog No. 181

One of the banner images at the top of my page (the ones that change when you reload it) is a snow-scape taken from the balcony of my tiny apartment when I was living in London Ontario. It was several years ago now, and I was only there for eight months for school, but it was a very formative time in my life, so it’s really stuck with me. I even talk to people like I know London like the back of my hand, but, while I’m acquainted with the place, I realize I will never know it like someone who was born there or lives there. Still, I have the lay of the land and a few potent memories that stick out above the jumbled mess in my head.

Choo, Choo

Blog No. 179

All my April events are done and it was quite a ride. I’m shocked at how three little events, two of which I didn’t have any part in planning, can be so hectic. It’s only five days after the last event and the first one seems years in the past. The relentless cold and surprising number of attendants of the Fogolar Flea Market is a fading memory. Thankfully I have the pictures to rely go back to. The excitement and nervousness from the Phog reading, my second reading ever, is a fading shadow in the light of this moment. The reading at the Essex Railway Station is still fresh, but every moment, the details slip further into obscurity.