George Ilsley

i just read his flash in Event (volume 35, issue 2), "Basket Will Always Be Basket (Gertrude Stein , Paris, 1946)" and i am in love with it. interestingly it is presented as poetry.

i want to write to him and tell him that i am in love with his flash / prosepoem. maybe i will.

my second resolution. and it isn't even new year's eve yet. okay, here it is: if i read something that i love love love i will write an email to the author. (within limit, of course. i don't think i will ever write to margaret atwood, though she says, in her interveiws, that many write to her and she loves the feedback. but this i just can't.) i won't be embarrassed. what's the worst that can happen? nothing, really. and i'd love if someone wrote to me after reading one of my flashes. fat chance.

though while i was still reading for Vestal (i resigned as i kept having log-in problems due to me being on baffin and some server timing out on me before reaching the needed hop, whatever this means) i received a submission from someone who read healing sweetness and loved it and decided to sub to vestal because of that. or maybe he / she was sucking up. which is more likely, of course.

happy holidays to all.

i've been avoiding posting as the new blogger required me to sign in every time, and well, i don't like this. but hey, i tried today, and it remembered me. no more excuses. maybe.

i've been addicted to Miss Snark's crapometer. what fun. after reading through the hundreds of entries i realised i do have a hook myself. this is like learning a new language by immersion. who would have thought i had a hook?

my process report: i haven't been tweaking old chapters and thinking holistically about the layout -- i have these 3D images in my head of how the novel should be structured. pretty bizarre, actually. i imagine it as tapestry, but obviously it won't work in print.

i've been reading Inuit mythology, and it is said that a story is not true unless you add to it. i love it, as i am definitely adding to it.

after the crapometer the complexity of the novel got to a different level, and i am enjoying it.

i think my mind now needs some processing time, as i am eager to think and talk about the novel (i just need to find someone to talk to me about it who doesn't think it is a waste of my time and a total pile of shit), but i am not as eager to write. this tells me that my mind needs time to adjust.

i'm working on a short story which is as structurally weird as the novel, though absolutely different in content. so i will see how this works out.

i need to make a resolution though -- this time next year i will be querying agents. just watch me.

read my flash 'sunrise' in the december issue of flashquake.

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per contra just recently made it public that i am the recipient of The Evelyn Sullivan Gilbertson Award to an Emerging Artist in Literature.

borat, the movie, came to iqaluit for the usual 5 screenings. the weather was mild, balmy -12C, and only -17C with the wind chill factor. i enjoyed the walk to the frobisher inn, where the astro theatre is located.

i've heard, of course, how hilarious the movie is; how people can't stop laughing. for days after.

there were a couple of scenes where i chuckled. the rest? i was alternatively deeply saddened, horrified, or grossed out.

cohen's character, borat, through his own anti-semitic and other hatred provoking antics, exposes anti-semitism and homophobia, and some misogyny in the us. the subjects that reacted 'the best' were simple minded, working class, mostly elderly, in rural texas, as the producers had to choose areas with little cable tv exposure.

the movie is full of gross out stunts that expose nothing about 'cultural' differences, and they dilute the message that the movies struggles to achieve. borat defacating in a public area; borat trying to kiss strangers on the lips; borat and his buddy running around naked in their hotel. the reactions of bystanders, if anything, show how tolerant and polite most people are.

i was impressed by the etiquette expert who was guiding borat through a dinner party situation. her composure was spectacular.

the scenes with the prostitute were poignant, but i seriously doubt she wasn't in on it.

sacha cohen claims to have over 400 hours of tape for this 82 minutes movie. if this was his best material, i doubt most people's reactions were as 'bad' as he wanted them to be.

a laught-out-loud movie? hardly. depressing? somewhat. interestingly, out of 8 people in the theater no one even chuckled. this is not a very representative sample, of course, but still.

random updates:

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i was sick for 2 weeks in november, so i haven't finished my nano novel. but i am working on it at a slower pace, and it is coming together. in addition to writing i started researching today inuit and gypsy / roma legends and folk tales. if anyone knows of a good source, let me know.

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they can't get me the right type of olives in our food mail order! the first time they wrote that the store was out of olives. this week they sent two cans of pitted black, while i ordered kalamata, copying everything from their flyer. yes, i add 'accept substitutes', because i realised i have a much better chance of them getting me what i want if they are not mad at me. our neighbour never gets his milk right -- they want 1% and they get either skim or homo or 2% most of the time. at least we get the milk right. but i want my kalamata olives!

at least they sent me white wine vinegar this time, not plain white vinegar.

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today in the library i picked up a copy of Margaret Atwood's Cat's Eye, hard cover, as they were giving it away for free. i already have a copy. i love this book. so silly of me to pick up another, but it was FREE.

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when i was sick i finished reading Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood. Oryx is Zenia's twin, if you know what i mean. good book, but not her best.

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i also finished rereading Cancer Ward by Solzhenitsyn, and this is an absolute must for every one to read. there was a handwritten note on the first page: May 1974. someone read it before i was born. someone read it when the soviet union was still a super power. someone read it the year Solzhenitsyn was deported.

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taking both kids out just for a walk at -25C feels somehow heroic. and oddly enjoyable.

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it is almost 2AM and i am absolutely awake. this freaks me out.

pushcart news: my short-short 'snowrise' was nominated by per contra. i'd go and celebrate, if people in my 'real life' knew or cared about puschart. or maybe i should go and celebrate by myself.

my new entry is up at the canadian writers' collective

i'm not an action writer, or a writer of action, so naturally, 8000 words into my novel i feel my characters are not doing much. they kind of hang around. they did do things in the beginning, but not anymore. they think about the past. they observe things. that's bad. according to my outline the next several segments should have action, but for today, even my outline says "A. contemplates; M. is idealistic...etc".

for now i am letting them be. when i know them better, during my second draft, they might break into some action. or maybe it is their day off of sort. i want to ride through this seeming slump as fast as i can. i want to be on my second draft already, where i can start paying attention to details, rather than making comments on my margins, in point form.

but maybe there needs to be a sort of lull. i will have to see as i reread the manuscript. after all, A. still doesn't know that her husband is having an affair, and her husband still doesn't know that A. just discovered a lump in her breast.

my word count is right on target. today i wrote 1000, which is 500 words above my self-imposed limit.

gratuitous sex by matt maxwell. read it. hilarious.

his photography is not to be missed either. stunning.

another 500 words.

things are evolving. distinct forms / voices emerge for each of the characters. my characters surpise me.

if you think this is weird, well... Anton Chekhov liked it when his characters surprised him...

i'm not sure why i am attracted to the nano tee-shirt. it is not even my colour. i'm not even materialistic. most of my tee-shirts are from thrift stores. i don't care for logos. can anyone tell me why i want that tee-shirt?

in nano news: 4157 words. staying well within my personal goal. today i wrote two segments.

it is already obvious that each chapter, i.e. each flash, will end up longer than 500 words after revisions. probably between 1000 and 1500.

i will need to do quite a lot of research for this novel. looking forward to it.

Elizabeth McCracken, in Writers Ask:

In graduate school, I wrote a short story that some said could have become a novel. I incorrectly believed my critics for a while. I wrote the first chapter of that story as a novel, then I realized I'd already written the version I meant to write. Novels that come out of successful short stories are frequently bad books. That's been my experiences. They were conceived as short stories: a short story is not just a shorter novel. You do character development differently. The characters are not conceived of as novel characters. I 've read too many bad novels published by good writers, based on really good short stories.

two things. one, i feel the same about short stories and flash. many comment on my flash, that they could see a longer story there. but flash is conceived differently, and making it longer, doesn't mean that it will evolve into a short story.

two, several years ago i read 'where the heart is' by billie letts, and the first chapter was great. the rest was mediocre. the author revealed in a note at the back of the book that she wrote the first chapter as a short story, and then an agent at a conference encouraged her to make it into a novel. there are probably many factors involved in this novel not being so great, but it certainly felt that she ran out of steam and was trying hard just to write something, after that first short story.

i had to google the title to remind me who the author was, and it seems there is a movie as well. so i googled the movie, and of course i remembered vaguely wanting to see it, as i like natalie portman.

i wrote another 500 words instalment last night. i feel in control of the structure, and of the narrative. i am allowing for it to evolve, nothing is set in stone, but is fluid and flexible. but the point is i don't feel lost within it. it is a mosaic. pieces can be rearranged, moved around to create the whole, but i am aware of each piece, and each piece is manageable and can stand on its own.

my characters surprise me, and i like it.

i am also aware of my characters as real people, almost for the first time in my writing.

in my short stories i do not know my characters that deeply. they do something, and i might not know exactly why -- and i also like it. it is a different process for me.

i know i won't be able to write 50 000 words this months, and my goal is 500 words a day, for the total of about 20K by the end of the months. i like the energy of november, though -- a frenzy of writing around the world.

just finished my second 500 words. i'm just basically getting the structure down and the ideas. i want to have a complete skeleton before i start my writing course at humber. i don't think i mentioned this here, but i signed up for the humber college correspondence writing course, and i even got a $500 scholarship.

it is a 1:1 mentoring program, 30 weeks or 85K words, whichever comes first. my mentor is rabindranath maharaj. i am supposed to be working on my short story collection -- i have about 20 stories and flash that i want his feedback on. however, i plan to use up my entire quota of 85K during the 30 weeks. so the draft of this novel will be handy to work on.

holy cow, i have an idea for a novel and i am excited about it. i've been convinced for a long time that novels are not for me. flash is. short stories, maybe. novel? no way.

no, i'm not doing the nanowrimo this year. after winning last year, i.e. completing the 50k draft in which very little happens, i feel if i do it again, i will have to win... but... i don't have the time. i'm realistic here. but i might get myself tha nano t-shirt. it was sold out too fast last year. haven't checked the design yet.

but the novel idea just came to me, and developed almost by itself in the span of 45 minutes, while i was waiting for my daughter to fall asleep. it might be crap, but there is so much happening in it, i will need to weed stuff out, and i am excited about writing it, and this is the most important thing. so i will doing my own 'nanonano', as in mirconano, but smaller, and it will stretch for a couple of months.

it will be another one of those 'flash novels'. that's the only thing i can write, i think. small, digestable (or not) chunks.

okay, checked the t-shirt and it is so cool, i might even do the nano for real. i mean, i want the t-shirt. but getting it without doing nano will be cheating, of sorts.

i need tranquilizers to fall asleep. i'm hyper. (but not drunk)

and don't miss my totally unrelated, totally short entry at the canadian writers collective. but i will post in at midnight.

read today's entry at the Canadian Writers Collective.

it's been unusually warm. it rained for two days. today was +1C, no wind, and it felt very warm. it smelled of spring, and made me feel nostalgic. do i really want 7 months of winter? not like i have a choice. and i *am* excited about the snow.

i'm ordering a winter amautik, a hooded parka, so that i can carry my 2 year old on my back, and i'm eager for the weather to get colder so i could start wearing him in it.

we went to the pond at the bottom of our street and waded in the slush; the town was hidden in the fog.

scroll down to view the photos. i'm not able to publish it with a later date.

i can't believe i haven't updated for so long. the truth is...i really want to vent about some things... and i'm acutely aware that this is not something one can do in a town of 8000 people, with ... eh ... only one ... ... ... yeah...

can't say. nope.


but...i've been uploading photos into a draft post, so that i could post my entire route to the airport -- a pic of each house. yeah. so stay tuned. blogger wasn't cooperating, so that's why.

you are in Iqaluit. walk to the airport with us. look to your right. this is what you see. captures under the photos. some photos won't have any captions...the photos start after our we turn right, into the street that will take us to the airport...so you are missing about 8 houses on the road to nowhere, and some empty space...

water pumping station...

residential housing

residential housing



i think there are some offices inside


private house
private house





hospital; new hospital wing being built

another water pumping station

this road leads to...hm... i think to the subdivision called 'plato'


nunavut arctic college

not sure what is this

fire hall

??

there is a cafe in this building and royal bank.
major intersection downtown. canada building just above the white pick up truck


same intersection. busy traffic
we keep on walking straight.

it says on the building what it is


cadets again

you can see a daycare at the distance
navigator inn

this is the final stretch towards the airport. if i were to turn left here, i'd be on my way to the sylvia grinnel territorial park

baffin flowers. my husband says that it is AMAZING inside

pretty big taxi company


there is a spa, a fancy kids' clothing store, and my favorite caffe in this yellow building

yes, fantasy palace. unfortunately, despite the signs, they do not server breyers...

it is nice inside. we stop for a treat...



empty spaces...
okay, here we actually look to the left. first air cargo...

another glance to the left. this is where we are going...



the airport from up close, also to the left


an art gallery. we went in. but didn't take any photos there.

leaving the art gallery. nice truck.

inside the cargo building




our groceries for a week

joe, our taxi driver. we ride with him, not with the other guys. the guys who think the need to drive 100 km/h. did i mention there are no sit belts?

444 kg worth of food. i'm not sure whether the weight of the crate was included or not. it sure looks we drink lots of V8.





this is not for a week. this is for about 8 months, according to my estimations. this should last until the next sea lift, when the ice melts.

weekly we buy food from a regular grocery in Quebec. my groceries cost me about $160, with about $80 for shipping via Canada Post ($.88 per kg).

if i buy groceries localy i pay about 2.5 times as much as in Toronto (or Quebec). so we save about $50 a week with food mail. and the quality is much better.

i enjoy going to the airport once a week to pick up our food mail order. i like doing groceries on line. you see, in toronto i could not afford it.

our first sea lift container was delivered to our door today. it's so cute, i have to take a photo. a ply wood box, 1.24 cubic meters, 444 kg -- says so on the label. (craig, if you are reading this -- here you go. my personal '444'.) full of goodies from costco. raspberry jam. check. calamata olives. check. social tea cookies. check. 100 kg of flour. check. and other stuff too good to be true.


groceries: $ 822
personal shopper and packer in ottawa, 4 hours: $120
transportation from ottawa to the sea port in montreal: $150
booking sea lift: $30
marine transportation to iqaluit: $350
to the door delivery:$60

still cheaper than bying locally or ordering via food mail -- priceless.

read my post at the canadian writers' collective. i capitalise there. they make me to.

snowing. for real. some (not much) on the ground. several days ago we collected wildflower seeds to plant around the house. we better plant them now. at least the kids are eager to go out.

okay, it is stopping. turning into rain. i am relieved. that seed picking wasn't easy, with a 30lb toddler sleeping on my back. i'd hate for them to go to waste.

so the snowfall lasted for what, 5 minutes.

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seed collecting was even more satisfying than berry picking. a bit of a mystery as well -- some dry brown flowers i could not even identify.

still snowing, actually. i need to stop typing, have breakfast, and get out with the seeds.

berry picking today...
5C with no wind is WARM.it's been drizzling all morning, but now it is actually sunny. i'm tempted to walk there again, take photos with the better lighting. kids are tired, though.

berry picking. blueberries and mountain cranberries, which are lingenberries. there is another berry, looks black. it is edible, but very bland.

the weather -- in toronto, you don't go out in this kind of weather for fun. not with the kids. light to medium drizzle. windy. cold.

in the arctic my ideas about weather have changed. i am only too aware that soon it will be dark for most of the day, and 'light' would mean an hour of grayish fog. it will also be cold. not chilly like now, but really cold. since it wasn't pouring, the weather was just right for going down the road of nowhere.

the hills have changed their colour. the are patches of are brown, orange, red, yellow. like a haphazard quilt. from far away they look soft and cuddly.

after the rains there is a lot of green moss. “it is like jumping on a mattress in your socks,” said my 4 year old. yeah, that soft.

we have a cup full of berries. with some lichen and leaves. tastes delicious.