There is simply no other way to describe it - moving can be an absolute and utter soul sucking exercise.
Despite taking three days to pack, bag and box things with the help from my inlays and my wife's aunt and uncle, the process of dragging my family's stuff from one house to another was an effort I'd rather never repeat again. I do believe that if ever there was an experience that would resemble the ripping of one's life essence from their body, I daresay I could now relate to it. Vampires and soul leeching entities beware, I can now sense it happening before it is too late!
After living in our first home for eight years, we finally decided that, two children and their accoutrements and toys later, we had outgrown our semi-detached. After four months of searching and dealing with the sale of our own house, we finally committed to and bought a new house. I dare not say home, as I can't quite relate to it as "home" just yet. Home is more the sense of belonging and familiarity you develop with your surroundings; you've developed your habits, tendencies and instinctively know where things are and when they out of place. Less than a week in, we can't call it "home" yet.
My two girls took to the change remarkably well. The first night was an absolute gong show, more so because of the fast food, lack of sleep and general over-tiredness that makes little kids into demon-djinni of immeasurable reserves of energy and equal amounts of dim-wittedness. Don't get me wrong, I love my girls, they just picked the wrong two days to bananas on me. I mean full blown B-A-N-A-N-A-S. Parents with two kids under the age of five will instantly relate. For those of you about to start, beware. For those of you without kids, I have only scowls.
My wife had a more emotional response, which she is apt to have when lacking sleep. For her, the old house was a near physical thing she had to detach from. We bought the house, got married and raised our two girls there, making wonderful memories along the way. To her, the move was more than a step up to a newer, larger home. It was like ripping out a part of herself. During our final clean and inspection, I found her crying no less than three times. My consolations only went so far.
All this said, we now have many more memories waiting to be created, new discoveries and challenges to overcome. For myself, I can't wait to make my house into a home, particularly the little niche in the basement I carved out for myself as my man-cave slash inspiration and typing room.
Showing posts with label about me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label about me. Show all posts
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Friday, July 12, 2013
I Saw a Bug
An interesting event happened recently; I categorize it as
interesting, because otherwise I’d have to call it a near
crap-my-pants-in-abject-fear-in-front-of-my family event. I’m a big enough guy and I am an infantry
officer of the Canadian Forces. A little
macho masculine bravado is a stock standard expectation for guys in
uniform. Short of a life or death
scenario, it’s somewhat bad form to be seen quivering in fear of something
relatively benign, particularly if your rational brain knows better. Such was the crux of this event.
I saw a bug on my deck.
A little history would seem apropos. As a young boy, I lived in Arizona
for two years and loved every minute of it.
I played with lizards (Gila Monsters and otherwise), used long sticks to
poke and prod tarantulas, scorpions and black widow spiders. I rode my dirt bike in washes and had no
issues with insects of any kind. Then we
moved back to Canada and eventually found ourselves living in Kingston,
Ontario. I can trace the trigger to my
issues to with bugs to two events.
The first was while playing guns in a wooded area. I found the largest praying mantis I had ever
seen sitting atop a boulder. With my toy
gun in hand, I moved within two meters to get a closer look. It unfolded its arms, hissed at me and
suddenly jumped on my face, like the Facehuggers from Aliens. Throwing the damned
thing off my face, it landed on the boulder.
Not to be outdone, I but stroked it.
Its thorax took the hit and juices squirted back up into my face. My world goes black and apparently I run
screaming for near two kilometers, my friends chasing after me the best they
could.
The second incident occurred while mowing the grass. I saw a massive queen hornet go into the
siding of our house. I thought, “I’ll be
damned if I let this thing build a nest there.”
With a full can of Lysol spray, I place the nozel at the opening and
start spraying. I use near the whole
can. She comes out, wriggling and out of
whack, flying directly onto my face. She
lands on my cheeks and twists a turn before zooming off. <shudder> All this occurred while my arm is zooming to
protect my face.
These two events lead to further incidents. I once dreamed I was asleep in bed and a wasp
crept up the foot of my bed under the blankets.
It made its way to my foot and stung my heel. My leg jerks so hard I knee myself square in
the mouth. Yeah, loose teeth, blood and
wounded pride. In high school, my sister
took to putting my mail over the mother’s National Geographic, the pages open
to a macro shot of some insect’s head or some such. She also once placed one of those paperclip butterflies
with an elastic to make the wings spin into a card for my birthday. When I opened the card, the twisted wings
spun and launched the fake bug at me. I
nearly flip the table onto my mother sitting across from me.
When I was still dating my wife, we went to a zoo and I
thought I’d face my fears and suffer the Insectarium. I could not have put on a more desperate
display of gut-reaction fear if I tried.
After 18 aquariums of stomach turning displays, we reach the Big Daddy;
some kind of Brazilian tree-bird eating spider.
Big, angular armour looking bastard, completely tucked against the rear
pane of glass. I lean into catch a
better view – in retrospect, a rather naive move. All of a sudden, it scurries forward against
the front pane, hissing loud enough my wife jumps a bit. I “lose it.”
The door is right there, and I bolt.
I find myself flipping over the wheelchair ramp onto the path outside,
hyperventilating in front of a family of four.
My wife exits, rather embarrassedly excusing my behaviour.
So we return to the scene on my deck. I’ve made a conscious effort not to relay my
fear of insects to my two kids. On this
day, I think I fail. I sat down on a
chair and turned my head to see something no less than four inches long,
something that resembled a frikkin’ giant earwig with wings folded over its
body. It’s hiding maybe two feet from my
head. Before I even settle into the
chair, I am in the house, ready to puke before my wife realizes what’s going on. The kids are ushered in and I boil a full
kettle of water. I’m in full-kill-mode. I toss the water and hit this thing square
on. It flops to the floor, sounding more
like an overripe tomato than a creature with an exoskeleton. I retreat back into the house. Not until two hours later do I make it back
out on to the deck. The bug is gone.
Now, I have no idea what this thing was, nor will I Google
it to find out. Ignorance is bliss and I
know for a fact I would not last 5 seconds skimming through Google images.
To wrap this all up, I can’t help but acknowledge the
obvious, that a person’s point of view will determine their reaction to what
they read. For many, a scene involving
bugs will likely not evoke the same emotions as I would experience; even a
poorly written one. Written well, most
would be able to imagine themselves in the scenario, or at least empathize with
the character and feel the emotions the author sought to induce; the concept of
‘show’ versus ‘tell’ kicks into refrain.
Telling a scene would not be nearly as powerful as showing – lace the
emotions and reactions as opposed to a clinical observation of the action. This is something that I often have to come
to grips with when revising a scene – how do a ‘show’ more of what I want the
reader to grasp? No easy thing, or at
least easier said than done.
I purposefully used a race of giant bugs in my fantasy
manuscript, the kind that measure in size to a cow. The scene involved a fair amount of squirming
in my seat as I tried to create the atmosphere and emotions I would have faced
(ahem, do face) when encountering a ridiculously over-sized insect. The bug on my deck might as well have been
cow-sized, given the reaction I had. My
rational-brain lost handily to my emotional-brain. Maybe that’s the key to getting this ‘show’
versus ‘tell’ thing down? If the
emotional side of the brain can’t connect with the scene, maybe it’s time for a
revision? I’m sure that’s an
oversimplification, but hey, my wife seems to be all for oversimplifications;
she insists I get my head checked out.
Labels:
about me,
bugs,
inspiration,
thoughts
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Can a Guy Have Too Many Hobbies?
I’ve spoken a number of times about some of my hobbies:
Warhammer 40k (both painting the miniatures and playing), writing speculative
fiction, science fiction and fantasy movies and television (well, good
television of all stripes really), among others. A short while back, I was
having a discussion with some colleagues and the topic somehow turned to
television shows, who was watching what and whether a series was worth
continuing or not, to be replaced by an interesting newcomer. This got me to thinking about hobbies in
general.
We all recognize that we can only watch so much television per week; there simply isn’t enough time to watch **every** program that interests us. So we prioritize our time based on whatever arcane or heuristic methods we convince ourselves of using. The advent of PVR certainly makes things easier, but it can lead to a steady and daunting accumulation of shows to watch. You have to make time somewhere to watch them. So, if we extend this to all hobbies, creative writing included, at one point you just reach a critical mass where something takes a hit – we reduce or replace a hobby to make room for another, or we start permeating our hobbies into other parts of our lives.
My life includes a number of roles and duties: officer and employee for the Army, husband, father of two children, son to my parents, and brother to my sister. I must sleep, I must eat, I must work to support my family, I watch television and movies to relax, write to express myself, play games to enjoy my time off, et cetera. All of these come with an elemental requirement of my time. Could I sacrifice some family time to devote more to my hobbies? What about sleep? Maybe I could sneak some writing time in at work? Those certainly are options, yet at what cost? Spending more time writing means more chances to complete the works, get those submitted more often, thereby increasing my possibility of success and recognition. Less sleep makes me more creative anyways…. Unfortunately it affects my family time, my productivity at work, makes my appetite go out of whack.
I say all this because I spent some considerable time re-editing my fantasy manuscript and started getting it vetted over at the Absolute Write forums. What a great venue. Then I started hearing things about a couple of games from the local gaming store. I checked out both EveOnline and Warmachine. Let me tell you, these stoked my curiosity enough that I completely ignored the writing aspects of my life for about a week.
EveOnline is a futuristic, sandbox, real-time strategy game;
the science fiction version of World of Warcraft. The irony that I would be more interested in
a science fiction game versus fantasy is not lost on me. But it wasn’t the space combat, or even the
levelling up and commanding great fleets that caught my eye. It was the option to be the economic and industrial
powerhouse, working the in-game economy and markets to your favour. It is the function as the facilitator that
appealed to me, the guy who moves the pieces from the background.
Warmachine is a steam punk tabletop miniature game whereby
two armies fight against each other. The
differences between it and Warhammer 40k are relatively extensive and the
models are, in some ranges, top notch and really support the steam punk
genre. That the objective is to
ultimately kill the opponent’s warcaster and/or complete the mission objectives
is a new and refreshing twist. That it
follows a streamlined system and is from a fledgling company that, to be honest
does not have GW’s previous history of “questionable” decisions, is a
significant point.
When I look back on it, there are a number of hobbies and other activities that I have simply given up for newer ones. Just like TV programs, a number simply weren’t interesting enough to maintain my interest, while others went by the wayside for other reasons; the life of a bachelor is certainly different than when married, more so after you have children.
Examining the cloud of activities above, I can honestly say that time management is almost an activity in and of itself. To say that creative writing will remain one of the primary activities is an understatement. In fact, I’d say it has become the newest and primary of my hobbies. With the fantasy manuscript finished and now under review, I’ve the follow-on novels and a few new projects I’ve committed with verve and enthusiasm.
We all recognize that we can only watch so much television per week; there simply isn’t enough time to watch **every** program that interests us. So we prioritize our time based on whatever arcane or heuristic methods we convince ourselves of using. The advent of PVR certainly makes things easier, but it can lead to a steady and daunting accumulation of shows to watch. You have to make time somewhere to watch them. So, if we extend this to all hobbies, creative writing included, at one point you just reach a critical mass where something takes a hit – we reduce or replace a hobby to make room for another, or we start permeating our hobbies into other parts of our lives.
My life includes a number of roles and duties: officer and employee for the Army, husband, father of two children, son to my parents, and brother to my sister. I must sleep, I must eat, I must work to support my family, I watch television and movies to relax, write to express myself, play games to enjoy my time off, et cetera. All of these come with an elemental requirement of my time. Could I sacrifice some family time to devote more to my hobbies? What about sleep? Maybe I could sneak some writing time in at work? Those certainly are options, yet at what cost? Spending more time writing means more chances to complete the works, get those submitted more often, thereby increasing my possibility of success and recognition. Less sleep makes me more creative anyways…. Unfortunately it affects my family time, my productivity at work, makes my appetite go out of whack.
I say all this because I spent some considerable time re-editing my fantasy manuscript and started getting it vetted over at the Absolute Write forums. What a great venue. Then I started hearing things about a couple of games from the local gaming store. I checked out both EveOnline and Warmachine. Let me tell you, these stoked my curiosity enough that I completely ignored the writing aspects of my life for about a week.


When I look back on it, there are a number of hobbies and other activities that I have simply given up for newer ones. Just like TV programs, a number simply weren’t interesting enough to maintain my interest, while others went by the wayside for other reasons; the life of a bachelor is certainly different than when married, more so after you have children.
Examining the cloud of activities above, I can honestly say that time management is almost an activity in and of itself. To say that creative writing will remain one of the primary activities is an understatement. In fact, I’d say it has become the newest and primary of my hobbies. With the fantasy manuscript finished and now under review, I’ve the follow-on novels and a few new projects I’ve committed with verve and enthusiasm.
Labels:
40k,
about me,
distractions,
geek,
thoughts,
warmachine,
writing
Friday, February 22, 2013
Get Your Geek On! Oh, And Write Too.
One of my favourite past-times, aside from writing
speculative fiction, is playing table-top war games. Warhammer 40k was the first one that caught
my attention, back in grade 7 when one of my classmates brought in his older
brother’s White Dwarf magazines. White
Dwarf is a Games Workshop publication for all their games, Warhammer 40k
inclusive. I saw the pictures and read
the army descriptors and the various units and fell in love.
Not until years later did I get into the game. Other game systems joined my repertoire of
table-top gaming, now dwindled back down to just my 40k armies. The cost of the game in terms of cash for the
models and time to paint the miniatures certainly curtails how much I get to
play, but I still game as much as I can.
The odd thing is how much my wife accuses me of being a
closet gamer. Frankly I consider myself
a closet geek. Being an officer in the
military certainly doesn’t lend itself to bragging rights over playing games
involving little painted plastic models, or writing thus far unpublished
speculative fiction for that matter (aren’t I the optimist). On that vein, it seems that a lot of writers
keep their passion a secret, tucked away and reduced to when their friends or
colleagues aren’t around. Described as
such, it almost sounds like an addiction.
Getting together with other gamers certainly lets me get my
geek on; no pressure, same interests, etc.
The people certainly vary, in age, employment, income, you name it. Great, now I’ve made my gaming group sound
like a rehab session; group therapy for the gaming afflicted. Living with a major military base nearby does
draw more than its fair share of military personnel into the hobby. There is a gaming club on base, primarily for
tabletop gaming, which I unfortunately can’t participate in due to timings and
distance. The local gaming store is the
only real venue, which includes a number of the base club players as well; I
can say with certainty that I am one of the few officers that shows up to play.
I was more than a little surprised by the recent email and
phone call from another captain that used to work in my Branch, asking whether
I played Warhammer 40k. The cryptic
email was worded almost in code, or certainly would have looked that way to the
uninitiated. We talked and I discovered
someone else with the same passion for tabletop gaming.
Then I wondered about how this reflects on my writing
hobby. Not everyone is open about this
little part of their lives, almost embarrassed or afraid how others would react
– especially so when you ask them to read your work, or they themselves
ask. What will be their reaction? Will they enjoy it? Will they hate it? Agents and publishers are strangers, phantoms
unknown at the other end of an email address that make a yes or (typically) no
judgement. When dealing with friends and
family, things somehow seem more personal.
I’ve never allowed anyone to read my fantasy manuscript,
largely because it was far from finished, let alone polished. Now that I’ve completed the final draft, I’ve
started sending bits and pieces off to be reviewed, to see where it
stands. It’s soon off to either finding
a beta reader or through the rounds with agents and publishers. This leads me to wonder, how many others out
there have closeted their ambitions to being a published author from friends
and family? Is it something you keep
hushed away?
NB: For the sake of
clarity, I don’t want anyone to think I have minimized the trials of those with
addiction. In my position I am privy to
the sometimes sordid and wretched results this may cause. I would also like to applaud those who have
beaten their particular ‘dragon’ or continue to fight their personal battles.
NB 2: I feel I must make a statement about the recent and, in my personal opinion, atrocious handling of the whole 'Space Marine' is a trademarked term for book and e-book publications. As you can imagine, most any reasonable person, typically a concept used in the basis for legal decisions, would find any credence to GW's claim. I don't think they have a leg to stand on and am absolutely thrilled to see Amazon re-offer the book that caused the kerfuffle.
NB 2: I feel I must make a statement about the recent and, in my personal opinion, atrocious handling of the whole 'Space Marine' is a trademarked term for book and e-book publications. As you can imagine, most any reasonable person, typically a concept used in the basis for legal decisions, would find any credence to GW's claim. I don't think they have a leg to stand on and am absolutely thrilled to see Amazon re-offer the book that caused the kerfuffle.

Thursday, July 19, 2012
Summer Vacation – So This is What Living Feels Like…
What apparently was supposed to be about 4-6 weeks of a nutty
workload (think 60+ work hours per week) ended up being closer to four
months. Finally ended are the two annual
evaluation campaigns (military and civilian), the strategic intake plan for
civilian hiring, the annual learning budgetary allocations, several HR-related
studies, work force adjustment (euphemism for the job cuts to the federal
public service), and finally, a change of command. So now that this is all over, I literally
have less than a week before summer vacation.
Until then, I find myself still dealing with the increased
stress levels, in some cases, wondering what the heck to do. Procrastination and mindless activities are
relatively novel concepts at the moment!
No doubt my wife and eldest daughter will have some thoughts on this; my
youngest isn’t yet old enough to try and determine my daily routine and is
content enough that you pay attention to her every once in a while as she plays
in the same room. No doubt, diving back
into writing is certainly high on my priority list!
I have the re-write of Days of Reckoning to
accomplish, a project I intend to tackle during the two weeks at the in-laws’
family cabin. Hopefully copious amounts
of alcohol won’t set me too wonky.
I'll be back in 17 days or so.
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