Friday, August 24, 2007

T G I F

Thank goodness it's Friday!

It's been a crazy week, and the martinis and manhattans are already flowing - with the guests soon to arrive - so I can't possibly manage a coherent post. Better luck next week.


glass

Here's to the weekend, and to summer, which over here (at least for me) officially ends Tuesday with my daughter's return to school.

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Thursday, August 16, 2007

Back to reality

After spending two weeks at my mother's farm, followed by a weekend with friends at their lakeside cottage in Quebec, we have returned to the city with no further plans to travel.

So what have I to show for my seclusion and retreat? The polished first draft of a novel I started writing eight years ago? Guess again. An outline of the young adult novel I've had buzzing around in my head for the past year? Sadly, no. It's still buzzing around in my head, a little more fleshed out perhaps. Apart from a few indecipherable (and I fear unintelligible ) sentences hastily jotted down, I have little to show for my vacation.

On the other hand, I have delighted in watching my daughter re-discover the farm — play with kittens, acquaint herself with the horses now inhabiting the pasture, ramble through my mom's dusty farmhouse in search of one after another dubious treasure, and simply wander, marvel and explore — cared for my mother during illness, and, most telling of all, slowed down enough to watch gold-throated finches and skittish hummingbirds cavort, to listen to squirrels and chipmunks battle for supremacy in the quiet, still woods, and to learn to recognize the various members of a bluejay family.

All that experience, seldom absorbed here in the middle of a bustling city, has got to count for something, I figure.

Or so I tell myself.

Plus I read a record number of books, which we all know writers must do. Another time I'll tell you about some of them.

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Thursday, August 09, 2007

Galleys, cover art, plus new releases

It's official. Bronwyn Storm's short story I Love You a Latte, a Last Rose Of Summer Miniature, will soon be available from Wild Rose Press. Rumour has it that the galleys are sitting with the author. Check out the cover art below.

cover art
Here is a teaser:
If love was coffee, then for Annie Langdon, it would be thick, black, leave a bitter taste in her mouth, and acid in her stomach. For the past year, though, Devon McMaster has used a smile that packs more punch than a triple-shot espresso, and a personality tastier than coffee-cream chocolate to persuade Annie's heart to percolate for him. This Christmas, Annie will learn men, like coffee, can come in decadent varieties.
Watch for I Love You a Latte coming in December.

Currently available are two other books you absolutely must have on your bedside tables (if they aren't there already):

hmb cover1. India Grey's The Italian's Defiant Mistress, currently available in the UK (those of us in North America must wait a few more agonizing months).

Be sure to visit India's website, as she's running a competition from now until September 1.




halo cover2. Amanda Ashby's You Had Me at Halo, released just yesterday here in Canada as well as in the US. It's a novel about a woman who dies with unresolved issues and comes back in the body of her geeky co-worker in order to sort them out.

Watch for a review just as soon as I get my grubby little hands on a copy.

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Thursday, August 02, 2007

Sent with a kiss

How many of us still hand write our correspondence? How about our love letters?

Last month a letter written by Napolean to his beloved Josephine reputedly sold for 276,000 pounds (556,000 USD or 409,000 euros). In the letter he wrote:
"I send you three kisses — one on your heart, one on your mouth and one on your eyes."
I myself barely manage to scrawl a few lines in a card on our wedding anniversary.

The last time I penned a letter to my love was, I think, nearly fifteen years ago, when we were travelling separately through Europe. Before parting in Canada, we decided to "see other people" — actually, it was more my idea than his, the imagined muted clang of wedding bells throwing me into a tailspin — and he took the opportunity to barrage me with letters while I traipsed hither and yon.

I have the letters still. Several years ago they survived a flood while they were in my grandfather's keeping — I was gallivanting around Europe again, this time with my beau in tow — thanks to my mother who took it upon herself to dry every single sheet. She has photos of the collection carefully laid out throughout her living room and dining room. I shudder to think of the hours she spent perusing the contents. I wonder if that's why I no longer put pen to paper. Less evidence.

I do, however, send my husband emails when he's abroad, each sealed with a kiss — or rather "sent" with a kiss — by way of the letter "X". I sometimes throw in an odd "O" (hug) as well. Do you seal/send your letters/emails with a kiss? And do you have a collection of love letters (hard copies, that is)? Do you intend to hold on to them? Perhaps bequeath them to your children or grandchildren?

I figure it's bad enough that my mother has read the outpourings of my husband's love. I can't imagine passing the missives on to my daughter.

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