The next chapter: December 2023 update

First, I have to apologize for the tardy. I just didn’t have the spoons to get this posted until now (!)

Welcome to 2024?! Holy crap!

A cloud-swept sky at dusk.

This is the year The Art of Floating (plus launch and as many readings as my publisher can arrange for me) and Superstack Stories come out (!) This is the year I finish final (for now) revisions on Reality Bomb and get back into the querying/submission trenches. This is the year I revise Alice in Thunderland, my alternate history/solarpunk novella. This is the year I move onto The Fenwoman’s Tale in a more serious way and git ‘er done! This is the year I hope to place a couple more pieces of short fiction in good homes.

Wow! That’s a lot (!)

Life in general

We’re in the dark months of the year up here in northeastern Ontario, and I have, characteristically, entered hibernation mode. Gremlin mode (which is my version of goblin mode). A friend of mine calls it turtling, withdrawing into her shell.

It’s all about boundaries and taking care of myself in a meaningful way. Taking the time to ensure I can regulate, which I call defragging 🙂 I’m considering trying to nap in the afternoons, after work and walking Torvi. Just for 20 minutes. So far, except for the period that I was on strike last spring, I haven’t been successful at napping. I lie down and close my eyes and my brain just keeps going like the Energizer bunny.

We’ll see how it goes.

My first attempt was a bust. And there wasn’t a second. I’m too bound into my rituals. I need to have a purpose and block the time out. And I need to be able to reorganize my creative time around it. I’ll keep trying.

The month in writing

The month was again focused on Reality Bomb revisions. Once I submitted my assignment for Suzy, though, I took a few days to write other things. Some poetry, some revisions on short fiction. Thinking about The Fenwoman’s Tale and how I’d like to shape it into a more compelling and more emotional story.

Screenshot of an excel spreadsheet.

I met with Suzy once this month, on the 14th. It was a great meeting and validation after a challenging day (week … month) at work. Our next meeting won’t be until the new year. We both deserve some holiday relaxation.

Preparation for the launch of The Art of Floating continues. The pre-order links are up!

Pre-orders can change the trajectory of any publication. Please consider TAoF for your 2024 to-be-read (TBR) pile 🙂

The year in review

As usual, I set what turned out to be some pretty unrealistic goals. Well, they may have been realistic if I didn’t have an enforced three-month break from writing. From the end of January to April, I was supporting Phil as he recovered from his broken shoulder and then I went on strike for the last week and a half of April.

I was also unable to work with Suzy from January through May because of financial issues. I’ll be honest. My employer was unable to keep me on as an instructional designer because of budget issues (that are still not resolved, by the way), and I had to take a step down in pay. Not great in a year that also saw the cost of everything increase because of runaway inflation.

I intended to revise Alice in Thunderland, my alt-history/solarpunk novella, I thought I’d do some work on my Ascension series, make far more progress on The Fenwoman’s Tale than I did, get through the whole of Reality Bomb and reduce 25k words from the draft, and write more in general.

Very few of these things came to pass. Even the projects I did work on (RB, TFT, short fiction, poetry) I didn’t get as much done as I’d hoped.

A lot can get done (or not) in three months. That could have been six more sessions with Suzy (and the revisions should have been done by the end of the year). I could have done a developmental pass on AiT. And having both of those projects farther ahead would have positioned me to get more work done on TFT later in the year. I could have at least looked at my Ascension master doc and thought about the restructuring that needs to happen to make the series arc more cohesive.

Still. It’s been a good year.

  • I became a member of The Writers Union of Canada (TWUC), an associate member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association (SFWA), and a full member of the League of Canadian Poets (LCP).
  • “Psychopomps Are Us” was published in Pulp Literature.
  • I received the Canadian Science Fiction and Fantasy Association’s (CSFFA) professional development grant, which I used to resume work with Suzy in June.
  • I judged a poetry contest for the Leacock Museum.
  • I developed and presented my first webinar for the Canadian Authors Association (CAA) and SF Canada.
  • I edited my poetry collection, got professional author photos taken, chose its cover, and approved the manuscript proofs.
  • Two poems were accepted for 2024 publication in Polar Borealis and Polar Starlight, respectively.
  • My first creative non-fiction piece was accepted into the Sudbury Writers’ Guild’s (SWG) Superstack Stories: A Changing Skyline, which will launch in the spring of 2024.
  • I delivered my first Writers in the Schools (WITS) presentation, funded by TWUC.
  • I received a microgrant for mentoring from TWUC which will be paid directly to Suzy when our current sessions are completed in 2024.

I’m still waiting to hear about another piece of short fiction that made the shortlist for an anthology. I hope to hear something in the new year.

I also went to my first conference (non-virtual, out of Canada) post-pandemic. It was a really good experience, but it also reminded me how difficult travel is for me. At least now I know why (good ole autistic brain).

Lots of good things are happening. It’s hard to remember that publishing takes time, and the returns are often overshadowed by the next project in the queue.

I have a lot to celebrate.

Take some time to review your own creative progress. I guarantee that you’ve accomplished more than you think you have. And then celebrate your accomplishments before diving into the next thing on your list.

And take care of yourself. You can’t continue to be productive if you’re not in good health.

Filling the well

The reed new moon in Sagittarius was on December 12th. I observed, as usual, with a guided meditation. BTW, my goto for these is Alina Alive’s YouTube channel. She generally does a guided meditation for each new and full moon and has a bunch of meditations for specific purposes in her archive.

The winter solstice, shortest day of the year, was on Dec 21st this year. I lit my altar and switched over my seasonal sensory supports.

The full cold, or little spirits moon in Cancer was on the 26th, Boxing Day. No guided meditation this time, and it was overcast, so no observation of any kind. I was still technically recovering from Christmas dinner, anyway, so it was a good thing (!)

I kept it light with the writerly events this month.

On the 6th, I attended a virtual reading by the League of Canadian Poets new Poet Ambassador in Residence Tara Borin. I participated in the open mic that followed. So many lovely words! Such a wonderful evening!

I registered for Cece Lyra’s “Hacking Writing on the Line Level” on the 7th, but because it was during the work week and Cece is legendary for her epic webinars, I decided to watch the replay. If you’re not listening to The Shit No One Tells You About Writing podcast yet, you’re missing out!

And on the 8th, I attended “How to Write Opening Pages that Win Over Readers and Agents” with agent and author Eric Smith. Eric’s another agent with PS Literary, like Carly Watters and Cece Lyra, but this webinar was offered through Authors Publish.

And that was it (!)

Christmas was at my sister-in-law, Steph’s this year. Last year, the holidays were hijacked by covid, and my SIL has now joined the ranks of those with persistent long-covid symptoms. Steph went all out, and the spread was fabulous. Tastiest turkey I ever had. Stuffing, potatoes, gravy, turnip puff, Phil made buns, and Mom made jellied salad and cranberry sauce. There was also cookies, pumpkin pie, and traditional Christmas pudding and sauce.

Picture of a Christmas tree.

Needless to say, most of us were rolling out of there and caught the post-turkey sleepies. BEST. CHRISTMAS. DINNER. EVAR!

What I’m watching and reading

I watched Candy Cane Lane (Amazon) while I started the Christmassing of the house. It was okay. A disgruntled elf curses humans to become animated ornaments. Chris (wife Carol, son Nick, and daughters Holly and Joy—see the Christmas theme here?) Carver has literally hand carved his Christmas decorations every year, perpetually being outdone by a neighbour with a fondness for inflatables. When he loses his job and the local TV station announces a $100,000 prize for this year’s decorating competition, Chris falls prey to the malevolent elf, only later discovering what he failed to read in the fine print: he’ll be turned into an ornament, too, unless he can find all the gold rings from the “12 Days of Christmas” before midnight on Christmas Eve.

Then, Phil and I watched Scott Pilgrim Takes Off (Netflix). The series is animated in the style of the comics, and they got all the actors from the movie to voice their characters. The first episode seems like it’s going to duplicate the events of the movie, but Scott loses his first battle with Matthew Patel (!) I won’t spoil it except to say that it was a fabulous subversion of expectations. And we loved it.

I finished watching Superpowered (Crave). Interesting comic industry history. DC was a little too self-laudatory. They admitted some faults and difficulties but glossed over a lot.

Next, I watched DC’s League of Superpets (Crave). Fun and sweet. Just what I needed after a rough week at work. And the voice cast is superb (Dwayne Johnson, Natasha Lyonne).

I finished watching the first (and sadly only) season of Kindred (Disney +). I enjoyed it and would rather have seen the full story. The season left off with Dana and her mother Olivia returned to the present, leaving poor Kevin in the past. No resolution. Guess I’ll have to read Octavia Butler’s book. Finally.

I finally watched Frozen 2 (Disney +). When I consider the two films, they’re more properly about Anna. Elsa’s journey is secondary and it’s Anna’s actions that save the day in both. I appreciated the Northuldra as an analogue for the Sami and the effort Disney made to avoid appropriation. Enjoyed.

Next, I watched the first season of Reginald the Vampire (Network). Based on the Fat Vampire series of novels by Johnny B. Truant, RtV follows the adventures of Reginald Andres, who is attacked by vampires and must be turned by Maurice to save his life. Unfortunately, Reginald is frozen in his generously-sized body for the rest of his undead life. Jacob Batalon is charming as Reginald. Fingers crossed for a second season.

I finished watching the first season of American Born Chinese (Disney +). The series is based on the comics of the same name and draws on the classic Chinese novel Journey to the West. Jin is just trying to keep his head down and fit in at school when he is saddled with exchange student Wei-Chen. But Wei-Chen is not who he appears to be. I’m really hoping for a second season.

Then, I watched Noelle (Disney +). I was in the mood for a Christmas movie and John Scalzi recommended this one in his Christmas comfort watch posts on Whatever. A charming movie about the daughter of Santa, who has some big boots (and red, fur-trimmed clothes) to fill when her brother decides he doesn’t want to go into the family business.

I watched Barbie (Crave). Loved. I can see the criticisms leveled at it, but I thought it was fun. Very self-aware. Maybe a little too much going on, but very enjoyable.

Phil and I watched Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse (Crave). It was awesome. The animation is amazing! And the story was great. Miles’ story is being told in a very conscious trilogy. While this movie was the middle of the trilogy, it was anything but muddy/soggy. The Spot is the principle antagonist and he’s tied to the events of the first movie. That story will arc through the third movie, Beyond the Spiderverse. In this movie, though, the immediate antagonist is Miguel, who’s taken it upon himself to keep the web of life and destiny intact by preserving “canon” events. The problem with Miles is that he wasn’t supposed to be bitten by a spider in his world at all. He is the ultimate anomaly.

I look forward to the third instalment.

Phil and I also caught the three 60th anniversary Doctor Who specials with David Tennant and Catherine Tate, and the Christmas special with Ncuti Gatwa as the 15th (!) Doctor. DW is another series I’m totally uncritical of. I just love it.

My first read of the month was Jordan Ifueko’s Redemptor. In this sequel to Raybearer, Tarisai, Empress Redemptor, has promised to go to the underworld to free the souls of all previous redemptor children. But of course, the deal she’s struck isn’t so simple to fulfill.

Then, I finished reading Women Who Run with the Wolves, by Clarissa Pinkola Estés. It’s been on my list for years and I finally got to it (!) I loved the reframing of a woman’s life and development through fairy tales. I aspire to be a wild woman but have no idea if I’ve made it there yet. It’s now on my reference shelf with all the other archetypal journey/writing books.

Next, I read Michèle Laframboise’ graphic novel Mistress of the Wind. A gentle fable set in the author’s Gardener’s Universe about a lower-class girl who has a dream to become a wind master.

Then, I finished book three of Ashley Shuttleworth’s Hollow Star saga, A Grim and Sunken Vow. I don’t know what it is about this series, but I love it. I’m looking forward to the next instalment, but I’ll have to wait until next year.

Then, I listened to Mistletoe Murders 2, an Audible Original by Ken Cuperus. I listened to the first one last year and enjoyed the short, cozy mysteries. Cobie Smulders is a great narrator, and these are, despite the murder, fun, light mysteries with a romantic subplot that just came to fruition. And then, of course, someone from Emily Lane’s past comes knocking. Guess we’ll find out what happens next year!

I also listened to Blood Like Fate by Liselle Sambury. I was a little irritated that the narrator didn’t check her pronunciation of the various Canadian settings (cities, towns, policies, supports, public transportation, etc.) because her lapses took me out of the story, every time. But the novel itself is good. A science-fantasy with a strong romance subplot. Fairly typical for YA.

Next was Jes Battis’s The Winter Knight, a queer and neurodivergent retelling of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Imagine if the figures of myth and Arthurian legend were transported to modern-day Vancouver where they were reincarnated in people who may or may not remember who they are. Knights and Runesmiths and Fates and Valkyries populate Battis’s masquerade Vancouver and strive to solve the mystery when the reincarnation of Mordred is found decapitated at a party.

Finally, I listened to Robert J. Sawyer’s The Downloaded. It’s an Audible Original for now but will be out in print from Edward Willett’s Shadowpaw Press in 2024. Good cast. Good story. With the usual optimistic ending. A little more on the bittersweet end this time, but optimistic, nonetheless. Enjoyed!

And that was the month in this writer’s life.

Until next month, be well and stay safe; be kind and stay strong. The world needs your stories!

The next chapter: a month in the writerly life.
melaniemarttila.ca

The Art of Floating cover reveal!

One of the many things I’m grateful for this Thanksgiving Day!

I’ve been sitting on this for a while, uncertain when I could make the announcement, but I confirmed with my publisher back in September that I could publish a cover reveal for The Art of Floating. Rather than compete with my monthly update and newsletter, however, I thought I’d wait and make a separate post of it.

And here we are:

Isn’t it gorgeous?

This is a digital print of a beautiful piece by my cousin (!) Gillian Schultze called “Lost Lake.”

When Heather Campbell and I met in July to discuss options for the cover of The Art of Floating, we considered some of the pictures I had taken (see my Instagam for those), but in a subsequent email exchange, we discussed Gillian’s work, considered a few, and ultimately decided that “Lost Lake” was it.

Heather reached out to Gillian in August and, after navigating summer vacations, Gillian agreed!

I can’t tell you all how happy I am with this evocative cover and how well it complements the poetry in The Art of Floating.

Now, I’ll encourage you all to support Gillian. Her work is on display in her art gallery in Killarney. You can find her on Facebook and Instagram as well as on her web site (linked above). She is just as awesome as her social media suggest!

And now, I’m going to get back to my own creative work.

Until next time, be well and stay safe; be kind and stay strong. The world needs your stories!

The next chapter:  August 2023 update

Welcome to September, the meteorological beginning of fall (and the return of all things pumpkin spice).

Dark, dynamic clouds.

The weather in August was indeed lovely. Despite that, I did not get out to the patio to write. I kept updating my laptop. I intended to go out. A few days, I only opened the documents that are on the hard drive of my desktop, but eventually gave in and opened up the rest, as needed, and did my usual.

I have been enjoying longer walks with Torvi, looking at the houses, imagining what it might be like not to live on a busy streetcorner, to be able to sleep in the quiet, or for Phil to have a dark night sky to take out his telescope and actually do some astronomical observation.

Yes. I’ve been daydreaming.

The big project at work was completed early. And it’s been a huge relief. Despite that, my brain is definitely not braining. Executive function is compromised. Dysregulation is the rule of the day. I’m taking time off as I need to and I’m practicing self-compassion. Or trying to.

It’s one of those things. After a protracted period of hyperfocus, you need to rest and recover. This is even more important for an autist (or other neurodivergent).

The second phase of the big project is yet to come, and with it, more stress, but this is the career I chose.

The month in writing

I had two more meetings with Suzy Vadori on the 10th and the 31st. Our meeting on the 10th was a bit of a revelation. I had to restructure and compress the timeline at the start of Act 2. I thought I had done it, but I hadn’t gone far enough.

In our meeting, I said I’d have to think about how to do it. Delayed processing. It’s an autistic thing. And I told Suzy, I’d restructure the piece in outline and move on.

Reader, I did not do this.

Having restructured, I realized I needed to know the specifics. I couldn’t write forward until I knew the content of this section. I am not the kind of writer who can write out of order. At least, not right now and not with this project.

After a day, I had my strategy in hand and went through the draft-to-date again, trimming where I could. I also asked for an extension. I was supposed to have my next submission ready to go August 20th but was still struggling with the previous session’s revisions.

My extension was granted. Still, I struggled with the rewrite until the day before my next submission. I’m not happy with it, but it’s time to move on. I can’t spend any more time on it now. I have to get to the half-way point, story wise, if I hope to have a reasonable-sized draft by the end of my sessions with Suzy.

Our meeting on the 31st led to discussion of just that—the size of the novel and how to mitigate the growing wordcount. I’ve decided to redo my inside outline. There have been a lot of changes and there will probably be more to come. Having a smaller document than my map will help me to manage things better, I think. I hope?

I’ve already committed to another 6-session package with Suzy (to finish off the revision), but I may take a wee break in between. I have to write my grant report for the CSFFA, work on my short fiction presentation for my fall writers in the schools visit—which has been approved; more on that in a bit—and submit another grant proposal.

An Excel spreadsheet that tracks wordcount.

I set up a Substack account on the 7th. This month, I played around and set things up. I’m starting my newsletter in September. Basically, it’s going to be this update with a few strategic additions. I’ll keep publishing news and announcements on my blog/web site and try to figure out how to get a signup set up on Always Looking Up.

I’m also going to keep posting these updates to my blog. I’m going the free route with Substack. If I decide to move into paid territory, I’ll have to think of something sweet to put behind the paywall!

I may move back to weekly updates at some point in the future. And I may add a limited amount of curation into those, like a top five blogs/articles I read this week, or some such. Right now, there are a lot of things happening and I’m not quite in the right headspace to commit to a weekly newsletter.

On the 9th, I received a lovely email to let me know that one of my stories has moved to the shortlist for an anthology I submitted to earlier in the year. I’ll find out more in September. Watch this space!

I had my photo session with Gerry Kingsley on the 16th. I arranged to have my makeup done by Dana Lajeunesse and reported to the park just before 7. It was my first photoshoot and Gerry was very kind about my awkwardness.

The pictures are fabulous, and I can’t wait to share them with you.

The end of the month was a bit of a momentous rollercoaster with regard to acceptances, non-acceptances, and other publishing news.

On the 29th, I was notified that one of my grant applications from the spring was not funded. So that means one funded, one approved but not funded, and one not approved or funded. One more to go, and I should hear about that in September.

Also on the 29th, one of the two creative non-fiction pieces I submitted earlier in the year was not accepted.

Then, I received a TWUC newsletter indicating that the writers in the schools (WITS) approval notifications had all gone out. I hadn’t received an email one way or the other. I also thought, things come in threes, so this is it. I haven’t been funded for this, either.

But I enquired and, of the two WITS visits I applied for, one was approved—yay! Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough funding to award all applicants for all WITS visits. I’ll take the win!

And then, my publisher got back to me about the cover for The Art of Floating. We had chatted about requesting a print from Gillian Schultze, who just happens to be my cousin (second, in fact), and she agreed. The draft cover looks amazing!

Again, watch this space. I will be doing a more formal cover reveal when the final cover is approved.

Filling the well

Lughnassadh was a quiet affair. I lit my altar and did a guided meditation for the full sturgeon moon in Aquarius, which was the same night.

An altar lit for Lughnassadh.

The new Holly moon was on the 16th, which was also the evening of my photoshoot. It was lovely being out at a park on the shore of a lake.

Then, the full blue supermoon in Pisces arrived on the 30th to finish off the month in lunatic style. The moon was gorgeous as I watched her rise during my evening walk with Torvi. Sadly, my phone camera has proven that it isn’t good enough, even in night mode, to capture a picture of the moon without significant lens flare. I partook of another guided meditation.

My pagan practice is quite simple.

My weekly card pulls tended to be positive this month and in general, I’ve felt positive. I’m seeing it all as a good sign for the future.

July was FULL of online writing events. I dialled back a bit for August, because I was kind of overdoing it. Enjoying it, but definitely overdoing it. Also, big project at work continued, and I need to be mindful of my energy levels.

I started the month with an Authors Publish webinar presented by Ley Taylor Johnson about creating a dynamic act one. It was in the middle of the workday on August 2nd, so I watched the replay, which came with a free ebook by the presenter (on the same topic).

Then, in anticipation of taking the dive into Substack, I attended Dan Blank’s “Launch & Grow Your Email Newsletter with Substack.” A lot of good information.

The next Free Expressions webinar in the Donald Maass series was “Advanced Microtension” on the 10th. Because my meeting with Suzy was on the same day, I watched the replay. Excellent, as always.

On August 13th, I had the opportunity to attend “From Helplessness to Habit: Backstory as Behavior,” a webinar by David Corbett offered exclusively to past applicants and current students of the Your Personal Odyssey program. Really good.

I signed up for a DIY MFA webinar on “Unleashing Your Platform’s Storytelling Superpower” on the 22nd. It’s an extension of the storytelling superpower quiz, taking the four archetypes and extending them to authorial personas.

I signed up for “Hiding Exposition in Plain Sight” with Mary Robinette Kowal on the 27th. I really just vibe with her teaching style.

On August 28th, I lucked out on a webinar with Beth Revis about plotting your novel offered through Inked Voices. I really like her system. It’s intuitive.

I attended a Cross-Pollinations reading offered through the League of Canadian Poets on the 30th. The specific topic was about organ donors and recipients. Interesting reading.

Finally, I signed up for a CAA/SFCanada webinar on Pushing the Boundaries of Urban Fantasy with Jes Battis, another autistic author, also on the 30th. It was a fabulous presentation.

Something that I neglected to mention last month was that I seized the opportunity to take a pilot course from Taylor Heaton (Mom on the Spectrum) about unmasking. It’s self-paced with video, transcripts, worksheets, and other resources. I enjoyed it. I’m still on a long journey to true unmasking. I learned the skill early and practiced it diligently until I received my autism confirmation in 2021.

I will recommend it to any adult or late-diagnosed autistics, though. We need all the help and support we can get, and MOTS is a great online community to be a part of.

This month, I signed up for Patricia Tallman’s Wake up with Me! I subscribe to Pat’s newsletter and have flirted with some of her offerings in the past (e.g., Tame Your Fear Dragon). And yes, Pat is the actress from Babylon 5 and a former stunt woman. I already have a morning routine, but figured it could use some tweaking 🙂

The sun shining through clouds.

What I’m watching and reading

I watched Guardians of the Galaxy 3 (Disney +) when it came out on streaming. And then, Phil and I watched it the next night together 🙂 It was a fabulous conclusion to the trilogy, and I got teary at several points. Teefs, Floor, and Rocket go now! Finding a litter of racoons! The release of the animals! The High Evolutionary was a little one note, but every heavy or dark scene was undercut with GOG’s signature humour. One of the better Marvel movies of recent years.

I watched the season two finale of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds (network). I really think it’s the best ST series to come out in recent years. The Lower Decks crossover was hilarious. And the musical episode was fun. Very enjoyable, all around.

I finished watching the final season of Nancy Drew (network). I started watching this series in hope, but it soon became apparent that ND suffered from the same deficits as most other CW shows of recent years. It was a supernatural soap opera for teens. The final few episodes rushed to tie up lose ends and send the Drew Crew off into their separate lives.

Then, I watched Z for Zachariah (Amazon). This 2015 adaptation was a radical departure from the book, and starred Margot Robbie, Chiwetel Ejiofor, and Chris Pine. In the novel, Ann Burden lives alone with her dog and believes she is the last survivor of a nuclear war. Somehow, the valley in which she lives was protected from the fallout. John Loomis is a scientist travelling in a “safe-suit” of his own design. He comes upon the valley and Ann and though he suffers with radiation sickness, she nurses him back to health.

As soon as Loomis recovers, he begins to direct Ann—what to repair, what to plant. It’s clear he wants to rebuild and part of that includes producing children with Ann. She runs away, there is a confrontation (during which Ann must kill her dog—*sob*), and she leaves the valley in the safe-suit in search of other survivors.

The movie starts out the same, but Loomis isn’t half as odious as he is in the book. Then another survivor, Caleb, shows up (even though everything outside the valley is supposed to be radioactive) and there’s an awkward love triangle. It’s implied that Loomis kills Caleb, and the movie ends with Ann playing a hymn on an old organ. The dog disappears partway through the movie with no explanation. It was not good.

But then, I watched Polite Society (Amazon). OMG, so hilarious. And kickass. Ria wants to be a stunt woman and her sister Lena wants to be an artist, but after an EID Mubarak party, Lena begins to date the host’s son, Salim, and Ria acts out of jealousy, going so far as to attempt to smear Salim’s reputation with Lena. But Ria soon finds evidence of a more insidious plot and must rescue her sister from her own wedding. Excellent.

The first book I read in August was Shveta Thakrar’s novella, Into the Moon Garden. A lovely paranormal romance about a young scientist trying to come to terms with her mother’s death. The story alternates with chapters from a book about the moon gods and goddesses from around the world, each with a lesson for the protagonist as she navigates her grief.

Then, I listened to Robert A. Heinlein’s Orphans of the Sky. The book was noted as a “fix up” of a 1941 novelette and a 1963 novella. Interesting premise. A mutiny kills the skilled crew of a generation ship and the ship floats aimlessly in space while generation after generation is born, lives, and dies on the Ship, which is all any of them know of the universe. When Hugh learns that everything he’s been taught is wrong and that the Ship is actually intended to reach a destination, he tries to convince the current captain to let him pilot the Ship.

The book itself is hugely problematic. Civilization on the Ship has devolved into a patriarchy where the captain and crew are figureheads and the scientists have more in common with clergy. Children born with mutations are killed. The “muties” who survive are at war with the rest of the Ship, and none of the people on the Ship are depicted well. The muties practice cannibalism. Women, when they appear, are hysterical slaves, and men practice spousal abuse and bigamy. I must confess to being terribly disappointed.

Next, I read Out of the Silent Planet by C.S. Lewis. Yeah, I’ve been on a classic SF kick recently. It was better than the Wells and Heinlein books I recently read, but it was pretty much a sausage party with nary a female character in sight. I appreciated Lewis’ take on the typical male explorer, however. At least Ransom got to know the various peoples of Malacandra (which he later figures out is Mars) and actively prevented his fellow humans from exploiting them. It seems to me that this book was in part written out of colonizer guilt.

Then, I listened to Powerful Women Who Ruled the Ancient World, a The Great Courses lecture turned into an audiobook, by Kara Cooney. It wasn’t just Cleopatra. Cooney unpacks the gendered rules of the ancient world and then profiles women rulers from Mesopotamia, Egypt, Greece, Rome, and China and how they worked around those rules to seize power. Verra cool.

I read Binti: The Night Masquerade by Nnedi Okorafor. I’d previously read the first in the series, but unintentionally skipped over the second to read this one. I didn’t realize my error until I was already into the novella. Though it bothered my autistic sensibilities, I persisted, and was rewarded. Loved it.

I read J.A. Andrews’ Pursuit of Shadows. I read the first book in The Keeper Chronicles a couple of years ago. She was part of my critique group, but already not active when I joined. The first book focused on Alaric. This book was Will’s story. Will considers himself a second-rate keeper, but he’s out searching for the next generation—and his sister, abducted when they were both children. Good story, solid character arc, nice romantic subplot. I enjoyed it quite a bit.

And I finished my reread of The Raven King. Did I ever mention how much I love these books?

I’m taking a break for a few days, and then I’m picking up another favourite series: The Fionavar Tapestry.

My next listen was another Heinlein novel, Double Star. Not as bad as the other Heinlein, but there was all of one female character in the whole thing. Also, the protagonist, a down-on-his-luck actor, was demonstrably racist. Yes, it was against Martians, but still. The actor is hired to be a politician’s double after the politician is abducted. Not bad. It won the first Hugo Award. It was written in 1956. Makes me wonder what I’d think if I read Stranger in a Strange Land again …

Then, I read Callahan’s Legacy by Spider Robinson. A good friend is a big fan, but the only other Spider Robinson book I’ve read is Variable Star, which was actually a Robinson completion of a book Robert Heinlein left unfinished.

Callahan’s Legacy is filled with pun and pathos. A nigh on unstoppable enemy is headed for Earth and Jake and the gang at Mary’s Place have no choice but to come together around the birth of Jake and Zoe’s child, achieve telepathic communion, and stop the creature in its tracks with an offer of … freedom and friendship?

Finally, I finished off the month with Bellwether, by Connie Willis. The protagonist, Dr. Sandra Foster, studies fads for a corporate research facility called Hi-tek. The plot is largely absurd, centring on the influence of a Hi-tek employee named Flip, who brands her forehead, wears duct tape as a fashion statement, and feels she is being abused in her position as mail clerk, though she is basically lazy and incompetent.

And that was the month in this writer’s life.

Until next month, be well and stay safe; be kind and stay strong. The world needs your stories!

The next chapter: a month in the writerly life.
melaniemarttila.ca

One year ago …

I signed a contract with Latitude 46 Publishing for my debut poetry collection, The Art of Floating.

Now, we have a date for the launch! Saturday, April 13, 2024. Mark your calendars.

And stay tuned to this space for updates as they happen. New author headshots coming, cover reveal, preorder details, and more. All the good stuff!

The one where I post about Dad: A life sentence with mortal punctuation, part 9

You may have noticed that I didn’t post in my series last week.  Truth is, I needed a break from the angsty.  While I feel that this series is important to write, and that I have come to a point in my life that it is necessary to purge certain things, all this exposure of my tender bits is difficult for an introvert like myself.

In the last instalment, I wrote about some of my encounters with death I had during the sixteen years in which I sorted my depressive condition.

About Dad

I love my dad and that’s in the present tense because even though he’s gone in the physical sense, he’s still here with me every day.

In order to tell the tale of his last two years of life, I have to give it context and that begins with his birth.

Dad was the youngest of three brothers and in those days, they lived out at long lake.  Doctors still made house calls for deliveries and that day he was running late.  The woman attending my grandmother, I’m not sure whether she was an actual midwife, or just a family friend, but she told my grandmother to keep the baby in until the doctor got there.

In the story I was told, she said, “cross your legs.”

When the doctor eventually arrived and my father was delivered, he had a brain bleed (subdural haematoma) and almost died right there.  He was given a poor prognosis, but he survived.

Dad was subsequently diagnosed with epilepsy as a child and was on medication from a very young age.

When I was very young, I was his darling.  We’d watch wrestling on the weekends and he’d let me wrestle him on the couch.  Good times 🙂

Then, he fell off the car-port roof, and was hospitalized for a while as a result.

In the years that I was catching all the typical childhood diseases: chicken pox, measles, and mumps (that was terrible, I had them one side at a time so it lasted twice as long as normal 😦 ), by dad was hospitalized for various other reasons.

He had his gall bladder removed.  He developed a hiatus hernia, which was initially mistaken for a heart attack.  He had surgery for that too.  A haematoma developed after that surgery as well.

At home, he’d return from work absolutely exhausted, collapse into his recliner, and fall asleep before dinner was even ready.  After dinner and the evening news, he rarely stayed up late, or fell asleep in the recliner again.

When I hit puberty, things changed again.  I don’t think Dad really knew how to relate to me after that.  His sarcasm became biting, not only with me, but also with my friends.

By then, the malignant hyperthermia had been detected in my family and he had to get tested for that.

Only a few years afterward, Dad suffered his breakdown and was hospitalized for three months as a result.

The spectre of mental illness

For a while, Dad was doing well.  He was getting regular talk therapy and attending a support group.  He started walking everywhere: down to the corner to pick up groceries, out to his get-togethers with the support group (they had coffee klatches outside group).  It seemed, for all intents and purposes, that he was improving.

Then the therapist he was seeing indicated that their sessions would be coming to an end.  Dad should look at trying to get his life back on track, maybe going back to work.

There was a problem with that though.  His employer had disbanded his work unit and there was not job in Sudbury for him anymore.  He couldn’t imagine trying to start over and I’m sure he had anxiety attacks just thinking about it.

Plus, he’d successfully gotten on a disability pension and was, I think, comfortable not working.

Soon, he stopped attending the support group and he stopped walking.  He gained weight and developed sleep apnea.  He also got prostate cancer and though a combination of hormone therapy and radiation put the cancer into remission, Dad suffered the usual after-effects of prostate issues.

His behaviour became more erratic as he went through his manic and depressive phases.  When he was manic, he’d spend like crazy, buying things from the Shopping Channel and Readers’ Digest.  He’d enter every charity lottery he could and spent hundreds on provincial lotteries.

Toward the end of one of his manic cycles, he’d always get struck with buyers’ remorse and his guilt took an odd turn.  He’d start to accuse my mom of trying to leave him, or of hooking up with one of his friends.

When he was depressed, he slept much of the time and tried to undo his financial miscarriages until the next manic phase hit.

My mom was taking care of him as much as she was taking care of my grandfather.  And she was still working.  I worried about her.

Even after my grandfather passed away, Mom didn’t seem to get much time back for herself.  Dad demanded (without really understanding that he did it) every bit of her spare time.  Mom started to go out with friends more as a respite from his illnesses.

By then, he’s also developed an arrhythmia that required the insertion of a pace-maker and was in the early stages of Congestive Heart Failure (CHF).  He started to fall and though his knees required replacement surgery, he was too overweight and his doctor wouldn’t authorize the surgery.

The beginning of the end

On March 4, 2010, I was part of the training team at work and away training.  I got a call to my hotel room late at night.  Phil had had to take my dad to the hospital.  Nothing life threatening.  I was coming home in another day, in any case, and so it wasn’t a situation where I would have to come home, but he just wanted to let me know what was happening.

When I got home, Dad was already out of the hospital.  He was agitated and focused on financial matters.  He’d taken to bed instead of doing his taxes and Mom was worried.

Things got stranger from there and on March 18, 2010, we had to call the ambulance to come get him because he refused to leave bed and refused to eat or take his medications.  Earlier in the week, he had once again been obsessed with their financial situation.  He kept telling Mom that he’d bankrupted them, and while she assured him that was not the case, he kept insisting that she had no idea what he’d done.

At first, Dad was in what was referred to as “ground psych” at the soon to be closed St. Joseph site of the Sudbury Regional Hospital.  Due to his intransigence, he was catheterized, put on IV, and fed food and medications by syringe.  He had to wear diapers as well, because he wouldn’t get out of bed, even to go to the bathroom.

Mom and I visited daily and tried to get him to eat.  What made my heart hurt the most was how he screwed up his face like a little child and clamped his lips shut, turning his head away from the spoon.  This was definitely not my dad.

He continued to say crazy things, that the police were coming to get him; that they were going to have a news conference and put him up as an example of government fraud.  At the same time, he insisted that he didn’t need to be in the hospital.  He was still convinced that he’d bankrupted himself and Mom (not possible as Mom had separated her finances years before because of his manic spending).  He kept asking if we were living on the streets yet, had the bank not foreclosed on the house?

He thought his “fraud” so widespread that it even affected Phil and me, though we were both working full time by this time and doing well by all accounts.  I even told him that we had enough to support Mom, if she needed it, but it made no difference to Dad.

From ground psych, Dad was transferred to the Laurentian site of the hospital on their psychiatric floor.  It was determined that he had suffered a psychotic break, and though not violent, was living in delusion.

We still visited him daily and though still stubbornly clinging to his delusions, Dad eventually started to eat, got off the IV, and through our insistence started the process of getting the catheter removed and out of his diapers.

The psychiatrists on the floor could get nothing out of Dad after a while.  He decided that he’d just not talk about his delusions anymore if they got everyone into such a fluster.  They transferred him out to the medical floor as they could do nothing more for him, and he didn’t appear to be a danger to anyone.

On the medical floor, Dad succumbed to C-Difficile not once, but twice.  He was very inconsistent with his toileting, and remained in diapers.  He was so weak that he couldn’t get out of bed unassisted anymore.

At that point, we were in the position of having to get Dad into a nursing home.  The hospital couldn’t continue to care for him as a patient.  He’d already been there for five months.  Mom couldn’t care for him at home, as the hospital initially suggested.  There were stairs, and she couldn’t lift Dad on her own.  Home care could be inconsistent, and would only cover so many hours in a day.  What would happen at night should he fall or something else take place?

So, we had a family conference with the attending physician, the social worker, Mom, Phil, and me.  Dad seemed to understand what was going on and didn’t object to it.  Mom would have to do some financial manoeuvring to make the arrangement work.

You see, as soon as Dad was in the queue for a nursing home, he was considered an “alternate level of care” patient.  Even while he was in the hospital, he’d be charged the ACL rate, which was about what a nursing home would have cost.

Mom had to file papers for “involuntary separation” so that she and Dad could file their taxes completely separately, for the first time since they were married.

In ensuing weeks, the social worker guided us through the process of selecting a nursing home, and every time my mom signed a form, we were careful to ask, what does this mean?

Dad was transferred again to the hospital’s ALC facility while he waited to be placed in a home.  It was fall by then, and Dad caught C-Difficile at least twice more.  Mom and I became very adept at gowning and gloving before we went in to visit him.

Nurses redoubled their efforts to get Dad out of his diapers and physiotherapists tried to get him up and out of bed.  Sitting upright for a while was all he could manage.  He never supported his own weight again.

Eventually, Mom received the news that Dad would have a bed at Falconbridge Extendacare.  We went in for the intake meeting and left with a mass of reading material.  The place seemed ideal, though.

If Dad could eventually get mobile, even in a wheelchair, there was a pub (the main floor dining room was taken over by a musical group for the evening and they’d be allowed a beer if they wished), an interdenominational faith service several times a week, and an activity room with everything from the internet to flower arranging courses, and they kept canaries and parakeets for the residents.  There was a garden to putter around in outside if he wanted as well.  If he wanted.

The move took place in December of 2010 and Mom and I were impressed with the care he received there.  She still went out to visit him every day, but back in the summer, I’d cut back my own visits to 2 or 3 times per week.  Because of my training obligations, there were some weeks in which I couldn’t visit at all.

Things again began to look good for my dad.  The care was far more consistent at the nursing home, and they were fitting him for a wheelchair.  Mom and I were trying to figure out what his plan would cover and how much extra she could afford to pay for one when Dad set his heart on having a motorised wheelchair.

On Monday, April 4, 2011, Dad was zooming around the halls on what was to become his loaner chair pending the fitting and financial approval for the one we would purchase.  That night, Mom and I were called out to the nursing home.  Sometime after he’d been put to bed, Dad’s CHF went into overdrive and tried to drown him.

He was labouring to breathe, in-and-out of consciousness, unable to speak.  He’d shake and moan from time to time.  The doctor and the minister both came out to talk to us.

Dad was a DNR, that is, no extraordinary measures were to be taken to preserve his life.  He was declared palliative and all medication but those used to keep him “comfortable” were withdrawn.  Mom and I set up a vigil with one of Mom’s friends.

We stayed with him throughout the week and many friends came to visit him.  After the first couple of days, Dad didn’t regain consciousness.  Though I brought books and my laptop to help pass the time, I often sat and just watched him breathe for stretches, held his hand, changed the cold cloths on his head and behind his neck, swabbed his mouth with a damp sponge.

On April 9th, Mom came to relieve me for the evening shift and I went home to bed.  Just after 11, she called and told me to come back right away.  Dad passed away before I got there.

I was still able to say goodbye, though.  What was more important was that I had spent the time with him that week, bearing witness as he taught me what it was to die.  Really, he was showing me all along, and I treasure every moment I spent with him, even the difficult ones.

In memoriam

This is what I characterize as my season of sorrow: from the beginning of March, when he started to show signs of his psychotic break, through March 14, his birthday, March 18, the day he was admitted to hospital, April 4, the day he took his turn for the worse, April 9, the anniversary of his death, and April 15, the anniversary of his funeral.

In a maudlin mood, I might extend that as far as Father’s Day, but a month and a half is enough time to dwell on death.

At his funeral, I read the following poem.  Afterward, I created the picture and we had copies made for the family.

ArtofFloating

The picture is one of my dad tubing at my uncle’s cottage. Sadly, we have no pictures of him floating.

 

Dad had a nigh on miraculous ability to float.  He could lie on his back in the water, put his hands behind his head, and just float, head, belly, and toes all poking above the surface.  He was unsinkable.  My cousin swears that he caught Dad sleeping that way.  I like to think of my Dad floating away in the afterlife, still unsinkable.

I chose The Water is Wide by Connie Dover as a song for the funeral recessional as well.  Though it’s more of a love song, the water theme prevailed.  While Dad’s gone before her, I like to think that he’ll be back for Mom with the boat when the time comes.

Sadly, I couldn’t find a version of the song to share with you, but I encourage you to give it a listen.  Connie Dover has one of the world’s most beautiful voices.

Next week, the final episode of a life sentence with mortal punctuation: Thoughts on Happiness.  That’s where I’ll tell you a bit about what my experiences with death have taught me about living.

Have a great evening, everyone.