Category Archives: blog

Who’s Your Daddy? The latest from the geneological front

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All right! Received my Family Finder test kit in the mail today. Results will match me with both maternal and paternal relatives. Perhaps I finally have a chance of tracking down the scoundrel that spawned me, or at least, some of his kin. My kin.

I’ve been on this quest for years, ever since my mother blurted out on her death bed, “Danny is not your real father you know.” I paid no attention as she was suffering from dementia, sliding in and out of lucidity, but the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. I pressed but could not get an answer. After she died, my “alleged father,” apparently the correct legal term, agreed to a DNA test which proved that he is not my biological father. My shock had worn off by then but he was and the first words out of his mouth were, “I never would have married her if I’d known,” which took me aback and I’m not sure why. She did lie, though I have a feeling that knowing my mother, she deluded herself into believing that of the possibilities, Danny was the father. The chosen. Poor guy. Poor me. Looking back I see what an awkward pairing it was.

These days it’s called paternity fraud. I imagine that in small-town Quebec there were few fates worse than unwed mother. Or, bastard. So Corona she did what she had to do. I went to Matapedia several times to talk to her family but none of them could remember anything, or anyone she might have been dating. It was so long ago. I believe she had every intention of taking the secret to her grave.

In any case, I’ve been working with an outfit called Family Tree DNA who claim to have the most comprehensive ancestry database in the world. I will swab my cheek today and return the envelope. Some detective work will be required but I have to admit, I’m excited! Plus, feeling optimistic, hopeful that the mystery of my paternity can be solved at last. We’re on our way, as the result directly impacts my son as well.

Watch out Papa, this intrepid redhead is coming for you.

East Meets West; Thai curries on a soggy Vancouver night…

…with fellow poet and dear friend Clara Blackwood of Toronto. hhclara

It’s been a rough October but I got to go out for dinner with Clara while she was in town. She and father Alan Briesmaster of Quattro Books traveled to the west coast to launch  volumes by BC poets Susan McCaslin and Robert Osler.   I first met Alan at a League of Canadian Poets conference many years ago. He’s a good friend of Bernice Lever, who also resided on Bowen Island, so when Alan and Clara would visit I was often invited along. I’ve enjoyed the privilege of getting to know them. We click somehow. Well, we’re all poetry nerds.

Indie Author Day at the VPL & speaking from experience…

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In 2012 I had finally acquired both an agent and a publisher. Woo hoo! Both shall remain nameless because both turned out to be pretty much useless. The agent seemed to think my novel, The Town Slut’s Daughter belonged in the young adult genre and spent a year barking up the wrong trees while the publisher, in the throes of much upheaval, jerked me around. Apparently they didn’t go under after all, but oh well. In frustration and desperate for deliverance-after many long years of writing the damn thing-I decided to take the dreaded Amazon/Kindle route and set up Howe Sound Publishing, with the guidance of dear friend, historical novelist Carol Cram.

As a single working mother I have precious little time for book promotion but my girl is doing okay, consistently awarded 5 star reviews and in the top 13% of the contemporary urban fiction category. Neither have I had time to calculate exactly how many copies have sold; several hundred at least. I’ve made a few bucks and the whole experience is pretty much what I expected. It is what it is, as they say. Despite the challenges I am relieved The Town Slut’s Daughter is no longer languishing on my hard drive, that she’s been launched into the world. Also, DIY is very fitting, having come up with punk rock, the original independents. Well, in recent times; Proust, Beatrix Potter and James Joyce were but a few of the authors who also did it their way.

I’m no expert in the vagaries of self-publishing, can only speak from my experience but on Saturday I will be participating in the inaugural Indie Author Day at the Vancouver Public Library, to hawk some wares and talk with readers. Perhaps I will see you there.

Racket remains, CV updated, treehouse residency

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Gawd. Lived here for nearly a year and the building across the street is still being built. Wish we could move. In any case, got my CV updated with the help of Tanya Van  of Dollymomma Designs. I’m fortunate to have such kind and talented friends. It looks good and we got ‘er down to one page. Might as well apply for that treehouse-in-Switzerland residency. Dreaming is free after all.

Updating blog, CV despite the racket!

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Ah, life in the big city, or “big smoke” as we ex-islanders refer to it. Our rent is going up, I need to get some editing done but again, there is a huge mother of a truck in front of the construction site across the street blasting away, since 6:30 this morning! Seriously considering moving. I still love Vancouver but it is becoming uninhabitable.

Oh well, we got to watch some free Canada Place fireworks last night, ear plugs help a little and it will get done as I need it by tomorrow. Deadlines as a cure for procrastination, yeah! I haven’t looked at this thing in at least a year. Fortunately my dear friend Tanya is going to help me whip it into shape.

For zealous Zellots fans everywhere, the Zellots on vinyl at last!

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My dear friend, musician and musicologist Jason Flower of Supreme Echo Records in Victoria just announced that he is about to remaster the only known surviving Zellots recording, a cassette copy of a demo tape engineered and produced by the late Peter Draper, RIP. Jason and I spent nearly two years trying to track down the master, to no avail. I did a lot of sleuthing and may have pissed off some people but could not even unearth another cassette. There was talk of possibly using the audio off some of the video Lenore Herb shot back in the day-which I hear has been digitized-but it appears Jason is going with this tape which contains On The Dole, Let’s Play House and another track called Vampire Love. I think that’s what it’s called.  And there might be a fourth track, I’m not sure. Oh it was so long ago…In any case, I’m excited that the Zellots will finally be on vinyl! Details to come. Check out this “teaser clip/video” and the fabulous Supreme Echo merch at the website. Also, head over to the record store in Victoria when you’re in that neck of the woods. Jason knows his stuff! And this is all true:

extraordinary archives of forgotten scenes from lesser known places

the anthropology of counter-culture. extensively researched biographies. remastered audio. restored original-era imagery. hand assembled in small editions.

 

THE SKOOKUM RAVEN-a title at last

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All right! Came up with a title for the new collection with the help of my esteemed editor; The Skookum Raven. Currently working on book structure, the  manuscript is nearly complete. Themes and sections include work and labour-Clown Duty, love and sex-Ripe To Stray, nature and birds of all sorts of course-Skookum Raven, crime and violence-Detective Work and no dearth of character sketches we’ve dubbed Piratical. Also, not surprisingly, the book is replete with deep BC culture.

 

BIRD WATCHING

 

Binoculars resting on the sill

Blackly inveigle us to look.

The luxury of observation,

Royal silk roads.

 

Cotton sheets abuzz,

I sleep with a mad bomber

In a bed too narrow

To contain explosives.

 

Eroding acres encroach

Shores of receding flesh.

Grip off, I spy

Elfin hummers amok,

Flap-happy mallards

Swarming a blustery afternoon.

 

I recall bionic gunrunners, East Van,

First day back from gangster land.

Recoiling at the forecast I’d fled,

Cramped in a compact car,

A woman piloting the wife.

 

Blindfolded against his scrutiny,

Foiling implicit shame, I skirted

Roadblocks, sculpting my spine

Straight, forcing it

To withstand gales. Tolls.

 

Lousy steward, I drop

The argillite raven,

Gleaming abalone eyes divided.

 

I slap my back with hot plasters

So it might bend when necessary.

Fit inside. Repair.

 

When will listening

Reveal the shape? When

Will seeing decode the trick?

 

 

MAMA, a wee poem…

…from the forthcoming collection and a photo of a young bear taken by my son when we lived on Bowen Island. I miss our old place, you never knew who might drop by.

Bear

MAMA

 

Beefy titmice.

Permanent chickadees.

Cubs, cute

Marvels I must leave,

Push, fling, provide

The briefest infancy.