Yesterday I locked myself in my parents' computer room and did not let myself out until I had finished my homework assignment. When I finished I came out into the living room and fell asleep on the couch for about an hour. I don't know what it is about assigned writing and reading that always knocks me out. Later, when I was home for the evening I settled in to read 100 pages of that Elephant book I borrowed from the library two weeks ago. It's a debut novel about a guy trying to write a debut novel while also trying to get work in San Francisco as a newspaper journalist. Unfortunately, aside from the inside cover descriptions, nothing in that book captured has my imagination. I had committed myself to plowing through it though because it had become an interesting challenge and because I truly believe there is as much to learn from a lousy read as there is from a good one.
I didn't get through my 100 pages before my eyelids started getting heavy. I'm not even going to tell you what time it was when I turned out my light because it was embarrassingly geriatric.
This morning I woke from a vivid dream. I was grocery shopping at Safeway and when I came outside to the parking lot I witnessed a helicopter falling out of the sky and exploding about two blocks away. I stood there frozen for a moment until the smoke and debris started coming toward me. I then turned to a lady standing beside me and said, "Inside, get inside." We stood in the entrance to the Safeway, watched people run for cover and I texted my sister.
I think it was at that point that I woke up. In class on Wednesday we talked about the best time to write. It was suggested that first thing in the morning or late at night, when you're a little on the sleepy side, is the best time because your inner critic isn't at full attention and firing. So I grabbed Mac and decided to test this out. I also threw a towel over the screen, another tip I picked up in class, so that I couldn't see what I was typing and therefore would be less apt to edit and critique myself as I got the ideas down. I looked at the clock on the stove. It was 9:04. When I stopped typing it was 9:43. Pretty good.
I grabbed the leftover piece of chocolate cheesecake from the fridge. By my rules, this is an acceptable breakfast dish, as is chocolate cake and cookies if they have nuts and flax in them. While eating breakfast I sketched out an outline for my story. What would happen if Winnipeg was attacked by terrorists? This story, if I could succeed at making it plausible, would examine the Winnipeg spirit (we like to think we are neighbourly and friendly folk) in the face of disaster. We've banded together in the face of floods, blizzards, the loss of a beloved hockey team, but how would we react to a terrorist attack? For instance, I am having visions of people flocking to Costco and nearly coming to blows over the last case of bottled water. We're friendly, but we can get pretty grumpy too. I was just at Costco with my mom on Friday and observed the behaviours of Winnipeggers in the face of free samples. Do not get in the way of a Winnipeg man and his sample of cheesecake.
After finishing my sketch I cleaned up a few things around the house and then headed to the mall where I found myself wandering in McNally Robinson bookstore.
Someone told me that McNally is a good place to go to check out guys. I've tested this idea a few times but have never seen results. I don't know if it was the time or the fact that it is the Sunday of a long weekend, but today the theory was proving true. I wandered into the Marketing section and was pleased to see that it was located right next to the shelf that was Engineering on one side and Sports on the other. Sure enough, one very attractive male walked up to the Engineering section and started browsing. Honestly though, they were everywhere in that store today.
I found my way over to half of a short shelf labeled "Prairie Writers". I don't recall having seen this shelf before. It felt like home. There was even a soft chair nearby that I sat in to read the first few pages of Sinclair Ross's As for Me and My House. The novel grabbed me right from the first page. I liked the narrator's voice. As I read I was also blogging and also thinking about how this is what I want to be: A Prairie Writer. Prairie Writer Jill B@rr0tt. Jillian B@rr0tt. J.S. B@rr0tt. Cherry Blossom (it was my very first pen name). Inspiration hit me and I decided to take the book home with me. The book cost $18.95. I knew that if I exercised some patience I could go to a used bookstore and find a good old (and old smelling, ahhh) copy of the book for maybe $5.00, but I had a sizable gift certificate given to me by my co-workers as a parting gift and if I was going to spend it on anything, it felt right to spend it on supporting prairie literature. So I purchased it and another novel I spotted on my way to the cash desk. I saved 10% because I have a Readers Rewards Card from volunteering at the Writers Festival. Wee! Free books plus a savings of $3.59. I am a true Winnipegger.
I am excited to read and I am excited to write again. Life is good. I am thankful.
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