If we were having coffee you would marvel at the stoutness of my cup of coffee.
“How can you drink it like that?” you would ask me. “That coffee is so strong it bent the spoon that you tried to stir it with.”
“I am channeling Uri Geller,” I would tell you. “By this time next week I hope to be bending shovels.”
If we are having coffee you are probably perched upon a teetering stack of books in my writing office – on account of that is where I drink most of my coffee. I keep a large mug sitting on the right hand of my desk, amidst a clutter of notes (which is the proper collective term for that heap of scrawled sentences and you-ought-to-remember notes that I keep on the right/left/center/under-bottom of my desk).
I might offer you a coffee but more as likely you will have brought your own coffee – something boring and under-caffeinated from Tim Horton’s in a lipstick stained paper cup, even though you don’t actually wear lipstick. I will warn you not to throw your empty coffee cup onto my lawn and you will humor my request on account of I am big and hairy and you have a keen and innate sense of personal survival.
I explain to you that because I live in a small brick bunker located kitty-corner to two of the city’s busiest shopping malls that I must fight a constant battle against the detritus of consumerism. Once a week I must take up my pair of barbecue tongs and a green industrial-strength garbage bag and wander about my front and backyard and around my rose hedge, looking like some kind of a pathetic homeless neatness freak as I tong up the thousand or so Tim Hortons mugs that have blown upon my lawn throughout the week.
“It is my personal fitness program,” I tell you. “I call it litter pick-up yoga techniques and it is really good for cleansing my chakras, whatever the hell they are supposed to be.”
I would warn you that if you ask me “What am I writing?” that I will most likely have to beat you to death with an empty ball point pen, because I am ALWAYS writing about three or four projects ahead of myself and am in a state of constant time-warpidity.
“You don’t seem to be all that perky this morning,” you note. “Should I come back another day?”
I am getting ready for a public talk on Monday evening at the Writers Federation of Nova Scotia – which has me a little nervous, just because even though I am quite comfortable teaching my writing and storytelling techniques to classrooms of kids from kindergarten to Grade 12 I am VERY nervous getting up in front of a room full of my writing peers.
Speaking of kids I will give my first Writers In The School presentation this coming Thursday morning at the Ian Forsyth Elementary. I love this part of my job – meeting and talking with all of those kids about how to create a story, either written or told. I have been a member of the Writers In The School for a whole lot of years and I really enjoy seeing those kids get excited about writing and storytelling.
As for my own writing – well, I am working on completing one novel, trying to rewrite another and trying to lay out the basics for a third. I am a bit of a multi-tasker.
Well, that is all that I have to tell you today.
Thanks for having coffee with me.
Now let me get back to my writing, would you?
yours in storytelling,
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