I can’t believe I haven’t blogged in so long! Very exciting to me is that my Norwegian Series, A Wild Life will be coming to Canada. At least book one will for sure. The decision was made just last week. In Norway and Sweden it was loosely titled Last Chance Pass, in Canada we thought for a while and came up with Last Chance for Paris. Paris is a hybrid wolf-dog who turned up under the cabin. “Habitualized” animals often end up being shot by humans as they end up causing too much trouble once they lose their fear of us. It remains to be seen whether Paris can survive the four books I’m writing.
The third manuscript was e-mailed to my Norwegian publisher and I needed to make a few minor changes this week. River of Ice should be out in Norway and Sweden sometime this year. I have one very exciting book left to write. I can’t wait to get to it. Only this week it seems I’ll have to concentrate on my magazine writing job and also making some changes on the first novel for Canada. Too many things, too many things. All fun, I wouldn’t trade any for the world but they all can pile up and threaten to avalanche and suffocate me. Avalanche, did I say avalanche—that’s what will happen in my last wild life book. Or will it be my last.
Last Friday I visited a great school in Port Colbourne called St Patrick. I’ve never met such a friendly principal. I liked watching parents play board games with their kids at lunch. There are so many updated boardgames that look like tons of fun. Uno that shoots out cards for you, junior scrabble where the words are already laid out for you, you just scoop the letters and get triangles to keep track of points, and Clue where there are little standup characters. Have to sort through our board games and maybe start over on them.
I should practice guitar and singing every day because I really want to be able to sing Kyle’s lullabye. I want to go skating again. I haven’t even walked my cairn terrier Sputnik today. Tomorrow all that will happen. But at least, today, I blogged.
For Christmas I bought my grandson Hunter brand new ice skates with a helmet compete with a face protector—the idea being I would also take him skating. Spencer Smith Park has an outdoor artificially refrigerated rink right on the lake near the new observation centre and when we saw it was operational, Hunter and I rushed over. By that time school had let out and the rink had grown crowded. Still we laced up along with my pregnant daughter Jen (I had to lace up all three of our skates).
Turns out balance on ice is not such a natural thing. But Hunter groped the sides and inched along totally backflipping onto the ice in death defying moves. The helmet saved him. I asked the “skating police” as we called them how to help Hunter learn since we weren’t allowed using pylons or skate aids, whatever they are. They said he should continue edging along the outside, holding on. Within about four skating sessions he’d be soaring wildly across the ice.
Well, Hunter hearing this believes he will be performing triple turns by the fourth time out so he’s nagging to go skating again and again.
Today was our second time out and I skated backwards and forewards to keep him company. He got a glint in his eye when he saw the backwards skate. I told him it was easy, you just wiggle your bum. So that’s what he did. By the end of our skate he was shuffling through the centre of the ice and falling a lot less and of course, doing little bum wiggles backwards.
Skating outside at Spencer Smith, watching the grey waves rolling in and gliding across the ice is just the most lovely peaceful thing even with the teen bucks zipping in and out around us. Two more times till triple twirls.
Today with the help of some talented musicians, Angela McKay and Brian Wice, I set the poem in Beauty Returns to music. It was intended to be a lullaby which one of the main character’s Kyle sings to a crying baby. Then when Kyle dies, at his funeral, a fictional character Angela (based on the real A.M.) sings it and the congregation joins in. I had tried various melodies out in my head but as I can’t read music, it was hard to latch on to one. It was the most wonderful experience to have two experts help me and have it come alive in Angela’s voice. She is the person to whom A Different Kind of Beauty is dedicated and in Beauty Returns she is acknowledged again. Singing with her and strumming chords, I thought we sounded really good and the lullaby, lovely and moving just as I’d hoped. It’s wonderful to still be surprised by life like this. I mean here’s a whole other artistic avenue for words.