Tag Archives: Inspiration

Who Wrote the Soundtrack to Your Life?

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Linkin Park

Linkin Park

Anyone who considers him-/herself a music lover probably has what I like to call a “life musician”.

I have two:

  1. The nu metal, rap-rock group Linkin Park
  2. Alt-rock singer-songwriter and pianist Tori Amos.

At first glance, there probably doesn’t seem to be much these two musical acts have in common, and I supposed they don’t save for what they both mean to me.

As my life musicians, my fondness for them runs far deeper than for an artist whose music I happen to fancy.  Or the singer of that current earworm I can’t get out of my head.

Rather, my life musicians are the singers whose music has played in the background of most of my life, scoring every major phase to the point that my memories of those times have become encoded  in tunes themselves.

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My Week at Royal Roads: A photographic sojourn (with peacocks!)

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View from the ferry window en route back to Vancouver from Victoria.

View from the ferry window en route back to Vancouver from Victoria, BC.

Most people consider Royal Roads to be the other university – the one in the woods, in the middle of nowhere – in Victoria on Vancouver Island, British Columbia.

It’s also where I spent most of last week, enrolled in a four-day Continuing Education course as professional development for my job.

I have to admit, I’ve never cared for islands, for I’ve had a negative experience on every island I’ve ever visited; everything from,

  • Intentional exclusion by a friend
  • A migraine headache
  • Getting stung by jellyfish
  • Bronchitis
  • My accommodation turning out to be 1000 times sketchier than portrayed,

and most recently, four days of subtle mocking of the efforts of non-profit organizations by smug government works despite a non-profit worker – i.e. ME – being right there in the room.

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Life is Better on a Bike

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In My Head, by Vincent Bourilhon

In My Head, by Vincent Bourilhon

Last week’s post about buying a female bike seat was a little more provocative than usual for me.

I meant every word, and was pleased by all the comments readers offered on their thoughts about colour-coding and gender stereotypes.

But I was angry when I wrote that post, and anger isn’t an emotion I’m used to associating with biking.

Because I love it.  I love it for being green, fast, cheap,  and good for me.  Although not necessarily in that order.

I often tell people that unemployment and its resultant frugality made me a cyclist back in 2006, but impatience kept me doing it, and the environmental benefits are just one of several other bonuses that have made biking an important part of my life.

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Inspired By Ireland: The post I should’ve written on St. Patrick’s Day

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I admit to having been a total kill-joy last Monday, writing about Lent on St. Patrick’s Day.

Son of the Shadows cover

This week’s post will make up for that.

Even though St. Paddy’s Day isn’t a significant event in my life (likely because usually I’m in the throes of Lent at the time), the mystique of Ireland was a powerful inspiration for me in the early days of my novel-in-progress.

Not because the story itself has anything to do with Ireland (it’s set in medieval England), but instead due to some of the books I was reading and music I was listening to at the time: two fabulous works whose recommendation is a far more pleasant St. Patrick’s Day greeting (however overdue) than my blathering on about giving up indulgences and society falling apart.

 

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They Say It’s Your (Writing) Birthday

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Grumpy Cat's birthday greeting

I’ve now missed my writing birthday for two years in a row.

I don’t even know if a writing birthday is something other writers commonly observe, or if it’s my own unique brand of writerly madness.

Even the exact date of my writing birthday is uncertain.  I mark it from the day I commenced my first (incomplete, shelved) novel, which was sometime in early February, 2002.

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Two Writers Debate: Pantsing vs. Plotting

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Eric John Baker (R) and me, clearly hoping to win this thing by sheer force of smugness.

Eric John Baker (R) and me, clearly hoping to win this thing by sheer force of smugness.

Only two approaches to writing exist: Good and Bad. Write good. Debate over!

Hold on a sec. That’s not what this post is about. This post is a point-counterpoint between two WordPress bloggers arguing the merits of two distinct writing methods, pantsing (freeform writing) and plotting (writing from an outline).

Read on as right-brained, right-coast writer Eric John Baker argues in favor of pantsing (at least we hope that’s what happens… he is making it up as he goes, after all), followed by left-brained, left-coast writer Janna G. Noelle making a case for plotting, probably with all kinds of charts and graphs and stuff.

No matter how ugly and violent it gets, they promise to return you home in time for tea and biscuits!

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How Does the Music Move You?

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One of the iconic ads for the first generation of Apple iPods.

One of the iconic ads for the first generation of Apple iPods.

I am of the opinion that music makes the world go ‘round.

Whether you like to belt out radio hits in the shower, hum to yourself while concentrating, assemble the coolest party playlists, or sing along at church, I believe that everyone is a music lover in one way or another.

And music truly does seem to motivate the world, right up there with coffee.  Every day – particularly on public transit, when I take it – I see people sporting the ubiquitous white (or red or black or what have you) headphones, piping sweet songs and strains into their grey matter.

My own days are no less musical, although, in tending to disfavour headphones, my method of delivery tends to differ.

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Failed New Year’s Resolutions Don’t Make You a Failure

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New Year's resolutions reality

Anyone who knows me well knows that my favourite of all the holidays in the year is New Years.

Christmas, I could really take or leave: it has an interminable, commercially-driven lead-up that starts the moment Halloween ends; holiday travel is utterly wretched, as I lamented in my last post, and I don’t much care for Christmas carols (for all that my one and only successful songwriting attempt resulted in a modern Christmas song).

But once all the hoopla and mayhem of December 25 is passed, the sixth day after the fact is one I look forward to with excitement.

Now, I’ve never been to a swanky New Year’s Eve bash….

I’ve never rung in January 1 with champagne, a sparkly gown, and a kiss from a charismatic stranger at midnight.

The one time visited I New York City to spend New Years in Time Square, I was so many streets back from the action, the TV back at my accommodations offered the best view of ball dropping.

And yet, sexy celebration or not, I still love New Year’s, for I love new beginnings.

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Always Say Yes: What writers can learn from our actor friends and improv

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(L-R): Nyima Funk, Colin Mochrie, and Wayne Brady from the TV show Whose Line is it Anyway?

(L-R): Nyima Funk, Colin Mochrie, and Wayne Brady from the TV show Whose Line is it Anyway?

Out of all the different types of artistic expression, the artists I seem to befriend most often are actors.

I’m not really sure why this is, for I’m sure as hell no actor.  I have no poker face whatsoever, let alone the ability to re-create a given emotion at will, and body movements range from woodenly awkward to determinedly abrupt.

As well, the mechanics and semiotics of acting are largely lost upon me. I can’t really distinguish a “good” performance from a “spectacular” one, and when I watch movies or plays, so long as the story obeys its own internal logic and follows a satisfying story arc, that’s good enough for me.

I’m a writer; I’m far less interested in the performance of a story than I am in the creation of that’s story’s script.

And yet, as different as my actor friends and their art seems to be from me and mine, I’ve come to discover the usefulness one particular actor’s tool can have for writers.

That tool is improvisation.

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Why Writers Should Spend Time With Other Types of Artists

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Sun by Dawn Banning

We writers – when we discuss our work and our process at all – tend to restrict said discussion to other writers.

After all, who else could possibly understand our unique brand of crazy?  How can anyone genuinely comprehend, for example, the compulsion to sit up in the dead of the night and scribble down a story idea unless s/he too has endured the utter frustration of greeting the morning with forgotten inspiration?

Artists of other disciplines (e.g. painters, musicians, actors, etc.), while themselves not fully cognizant of what it means to be a narrative writer, might come pretty darn close to understanding us.

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