Monthly Archives: December 2016

A Good Time to be Tired

Just a short piece today. I’m very tired, you see. I’ve been sick—sicker than I’ve been in a while—with infection from nose to chest and a terrifying voice loss. Plus, it’s the end of the museum season. For the next four months, I’m a full-time writer…but for the moment, that last, desperate push to the end has left me spent.

So how are you?

I’ve been thinking: this is a good time to be tired, this suspended period between Christmas and New Year’s. The year is done, but not quite begun. This is a time out of time, grey winter days sliding past, still punctuated with coloured lights and the scent of pine and gingerbread.

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Very soon, I’ll pull out some scrap paper and my whiteboards. I’ll sort out exactly how I’m spending the off-season, and then, the shape of the year beyond. But for now…

For now, I am very tired. In a few hours, I’ll fly to Virginia, where I intend to spend some time stuffing myself with BBQ, beer, and love. I’ll bring my play down so I can do some rewriting if the urge strikes, but we’ll see how it goes.

And don’t get me wrong: I’m happy. But 2017 will be a big year, and it’s the holidays: a time to slow down, to be with people you love, and just breathe. However and whatever you celebrate, I hope these days bring you warmth and joy. It’s the year’s waning days: spend them being good to yourself.

See you on the other side!

KT

What I’m Listening to This Week

It was just Christmas yesterday, so it was a week of Christmas music. Since it’s me, half of it was in Latin. I’m also particularly fond of “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.” My favourite version of this actually hails from a musical adaptation of Nicholas Nickleby, but I can’t find it online. Here’s another excellent recording.

And it’s tidings of comfort and joy…

 

Things I Did in 2016

Welcome back! Last week, we looked at some great fiction from a talented bunch of authors. This week, our year-in-review continues with Things I Did In 2016.

Every year on New Year’s Day, I sit down with a piece of 8.5 x 11 paper and a Sharpie, and I write down my creative goals for the year. I ask myself, “When we get to December 31st, what do I want to have accomplished?”

Here was my list for 2016:

2016-goals

Let’s go through these one by one.

Write first draft of Sing to the Bones

I did that in February. It was insane. In hindsight, I have mixed feelings about writing a novel that quickly, but I’m also not sure that I could do it any other way.

This was a novel that I had to let sit for a while (I also had to go to Ireland to really get it right in my head). I spent October editing it to a second draft, and sent it to readers again. I’m waiting on a few last notes to come back, and I intend to start agent-hunting in the New Year.

For a book set in a sun-blasted, rocky country, seeing Ireland really helped.

For a book set in a sun-blasted, rocky country, seeing Ireland really helped.

Finish scripts for Pod-Con

Man, we didn’t even touch this. For those newcomers, this is a podcasted musical that Lauren Harris and I wanted to write. However, I’m moving away from audio fiction, so I’m not sure this is still in the cards. Honestly, I’d mentally removed it from the list.

Produce Folklore somehow

Folklore was an early code-name for Six Stories, Told at Night. Making this list in January, I knew grant decisions wouldn’t go out until March. I figured if I didn’t get the money, I’d throw it up on Audible or something. But as it happened, the Ontario Arts Council did give us the grant, and so this one-woman audio drama rolled out exactly as hoped…although the response was even warmer than I’d dared dream!

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Huzzah for the OAC!

Write a play: Southern Ontario Gothic

That was November! It was slightly less insane than writing Sing to the Bones. This will get edited around the New Year, and hopefully I can haul some actors in to read it in late January/early February.

Write and submit short stories to pro markets

Really, I wanted to put, “Sell a short story to a pro market,” but I can’t control whether my stories get bought, so I didn’t. But that was the real goal, deep in my heart of hearts.

And I did sell stories to pro markets! “La Corriveau” sold to Strange Horizons and “The Love it Bears Fair Maidens” just came out at Apex. “Wendigo” also won the Toronto Star Short Story Contest, which I will count as publication (hey, most government arts councils do).

One interpretation of wendigo. Art by Onki Dayan. Found here: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/401172279286144735/

One interpretation of wendigo. Art by Onki Dayan. Found here: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/401172279286144735/

Outline TEGG novels

I did that! Sort of. Enough that I can knock off the first novel of the trilogy in summer 2017.

***

So…I achieved my creative goals. But as is my wont, I felt like I could’ve done more, like I could’ve tried harder. Then I realized that I did more than what I’d put on the list. Looking at the year in its entirety, this is What I Did In 2016:

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Me and Jim Kelly. One of my fav pictures from 2016.

Got my Masters’ degree

Wrote the first draft of a novel

Edited three manuscripts for other people

Wrote eight short stories

Wrote the first draft of a full-length play

Wrote two pantomimes for the museum dayjob

Wrote, produced, and released a s***-tonne of videos for the museum dayjob

Got an Ontario Arts Council grant to produce Six Stories, Told at Night

Produced and released Six Stories, Told at Night

Produced and released the Heartstealer audiobook

“Don’t Read This Story” came out at Daily Science Fiction 

Sold “La Corriveau” to Strange Horizons

Sold “The Love it Bears Fair Maidens” to Apex

Won the Toronto Star Short Story Contest with “Wendigo”

Wrote/currently producing “On Thin Ice” for the final season of Tales From the Archives

Edited the first draft of a novel into the second draft

Was a guest at Can*Con

Became an Active Member in SFWA

Started a podcast with Lauren

Sold one more story, details to come. 

…so do I still feel like I could have done more?

Onwards!

Onwards!

Absolutely. Much like Alexander Hamilton, I will never be satisfied. On the one hand, I think that’s a good thing. Hunger goes a long way in this business. On the other hand, that perpetual ache is something I’m going to have to learn to live with.

But while I might not be completely satisfied, I am pleased. Very pleased. See, in 2015 one of my Stonecoast mentors told me that I was on the cusp, to be patient, and to just keep working as hard as I could. Some big breaks came my way in 2016. I don’t think I’ve tipped over the cusp yet, but I feel a lot closer, and I’m excited to see what 2017 brings!

-KT

What I’m Listening to this Week

Y’all know I’m honest with this segment. Last week I saw my colleague Devon Hubka’s one-woman show Everything I Need. It was a delightful exploration of her love of theatre and pursuit of acting. This song recurred as a motif throughout:

Not only is it ridiculously catchy, the lyrics speak to me, particularly in light of this week’s post. No room for doubt—just shut up and dance.

Things I Read and Loved in 2016

We’re getting into the last weeks of 2016, which means it’s time for year-in-review posts! Next week, we’ll get into What I Did in 2016. This week, I want to talk about what Other People Have Done. So, here are some things I Read and Loved in 2016. (I did read and love much more than this, but alas, I cannot fit them all.) Not all were published in 2016, but that’s okay. In no particular order:

 

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Every Mountain Made Low, by Alex White

The name “Alex White” should be familiar. He wrote the theme music for Six Stories, Told at Night! Alex is a ridiculously talented Renaissance Man, and I was excited to crack into his debut novel.

Ghosts have always been cruel to Loxley Fiddleback, especially the spirit of her only friend, alive only hours before. Loxley isn’t equipped to solve a murder: she lives near the bottom of a cutthroat, strip-mined metropolis known as “The Hole,” suffers from crippling anxiety and doesn’t cotton to strangers. Worse still, she’s haunted.

It’s an evocative world, but for me, the novel’s greatest strength is its protagonist: Loxley. She’s neuro-atypical, difficult, flawed—and oh, so very real. Plus, there is a veritable arsenal of Chekhov’s guns, which pleases me.

 

Mortal Love, by Elizabeth Hand

At Can*Con this year, I was asked, “Have you read any Elizabeth Hand? I think you’d like her.”

“Oh!” I replied. “I love Liz!”

And I do—as former student and reader. I read the back cover copy of Mortal Love at my graduating residency and had to have it:

In the Victorian Age, a mysterious and irresistible woman becomes entwined in the lives of several artists, both as a muse and as the object of all-consuming obsession.

Liz writes everything from sci-fi to noir thrillers. The books I’ve read are beautifully-wrought, vibrantly-coloured fever dreams. Completely entrancing, even as the colours keep shifting, shifting….

 

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The Six-Gun Tarot, by R.S. Belcher

This was a “Sure, I’ll try it!” find from the library:

Nevada, 1869. Golgotha is a cattle town that hides more than its share of unnatural secrets. A haven for the blessed and the damned, Golgotha has known many strange events, but nothing like the darkness stirring in the abandoned mine overlooking the town…

1860s setting aside, I did not expect to enjoy this as much as I did. It’s not so much a single, linear plot as immersion into a world. Nor is it a single genre: Weird West, epic fantasy, and Lovecraftian horror all come together. Some reviewers aren’t convinced of the execution; I think it worked, but you have to play by the novel’s terms, rather than your own expectations.

 

Tamsin, by Peter S. Beagle

Another library book: “I like Peter S. Beagle, so I will probably like this!”

Jennifer Gluckstein moves with her mother to a 300-year-old farm in Dorset, England, to live with her new stepfather and stepbrothers, Julian and Tony. Initially lonely, Jenny befriends Tamsin Willoughby, the ghost of the original farm’s owner’s daughter.

Peter S. Beagle writes beautiful fiction, okay? Beautiful, unassuming fiction that wallops you with emotion. While I loved the way history exerts its inexorable power over the plot, I adored the nuanced relationship between Jenny and Tamsin. But then, I am a sucker for strong friendships and (pseudo-) sibling relationships in my fiction.

 

Roses and Rot, by Kat Howard

I bought this the day it was released. Howard has a discomforting ability to punch my very specific emotional buttons. And we seem to have very similar tastes and interests. And styles. And we were clearly both taught by James Patrick Kelly.  And it’s a little uncanny, actually. Anyway—

Imogen and her sister Marin escape their cruel mother to attend a prestigious artists’ retreat, but soon learn that living in a fairy tale requires sacrifices, whether it be art or love.

Sibling angst? Check. Musing on art and artistic obsession? Check. Faerie? Check.

Goddammit, Kat Howard. There’s a little unevenness here and there, but I loved this, finishing in a tearstained rush on the bus.

 

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Le Sang de Mirial, by Marie Bilodeau

Marie’s a pal of mine from my Dragon Moon days – I was stoked to pick this up at Can*Con. It’s a French translation of her novel Destiny’s Blood.

Layela et Yoma Delamores – des jumelles – ont passé la majeure partie de leur vie dans la rue, survivant grâce à de multiples petits larcins. Maintenant dans la vingtaine, Layela a convaincu sa sœur de se ranger : avec l’argent amassé, il est temps d’ouvrir un commerce. Mais quelques jours après l’inauguration de leur boutique de fleuristes, Yoma disparaît…

(Tl;dr: Epic space opera: twins try to open a flower shop after a life of petty crime, but then one disappears…)

My French is okay. I can make myself understood (clumsily), and I mostly understand when I’m listening/reading. About 1/3 of the way through this novel, I felt like I stopped translating in my head and just started reading. As is typical for Marie’s work, this is both surreally funny and bitterly dark. I was shipping two characters pretty hard, but I think my hope arose mostly from my spotty FSL skills.

 

Bonus Short Story: “Three Letters from the Queen of Elfland,” by Sarah Monette.

Found in a collection of shorts from Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet. I’m sensing a theme with what I like: Victorian things, Faerie, and unconventional relationships. This story has all three in spades, and the emotional undercurrent nearly melted even my icy heart.

 

So that’s my 2016, reading-wise. What about you? What did you read and love?

KT

What I’m Listening to this Week

Christmas music! John Gardner’s arrangement of “Tomorrow Shall be my Dancing Day” is delightful! It really does need to move quickly: the sprightly organ is perfect. Especially when the descant hits in the last verse: it sounds like we’re about to dance off the rails, but then we don’t.

Wildfires and Reflections

Until last week, I snickered at the name “Pigeon Forge.” It sounds like a made-up name, doesn’t it? The name alone has always struck me as the Platonic ideal of a small town in the Deep South. I mean, listen to it: Pigeon Forge, Tennessee.

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Pigeon Forge (www.tourist-destinations.net)

The Tennessean towns of Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg are the gateway to the Great Smoky Mountains. For me, they’re the gateway to an annual writing retreat I take with ~20ish dear friends. And yeah, until last week, I dismissed them as “the weirdest places I’ve ever been.”

Until last week, this is what I saw:

The main street unfurls like a midway, flashing lights and sugary music spilling onto crowded sidewalks. On one side, a collection of concrete faux-log cabins nestles like a sanitized vision of an alpine village. Olde Time Photography Studios and Olde-Fashioned Candy Shoppes stand every few paces, while black bears grin from neon t-shirts, chipped ceramic mugs, and motel doorways (TV WIFI POOL).

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The main strip in Gatlinburg (www.gatlinburg.com)

Outside of Gatlinburg, signs proclaim JESUS SAVES right next to others announcing GUNS GUNS GUNS. Pickup trucks trundle past with plywood bumpers, and rusted-out trailers sit on hills, and Biblically-themed parks and theatres abound.

Until last week, I snickered. And believe me, it feels very uncomfortable to say that. Giving myself a long, hard stare, I see a blend of big-city blindness, liberal arrogance, and Canadian smugness.

“So typical. So kitschy.”

Then the fire happened.

Last week, wildfire (possibly “human-caused”) broke out in the mountains and swept with little warning into Gatlinburg, fuelled by the region’s worst drought in a decade. Within hours, swathes of mountainside and residences were destroyed, and 14,000 people were evacuated. At time of writing, 13 people are dead and 1000 buildings have been damaged or destroyed.

Our retreat cabin is right in the danger zone, so we stayed glued to the incoming reports. As more data rolled in, I was stunned.

  • “[FARM] has a field for evacuated livestock. No charge. Call [Suzy] at [NUMBER].”
  • “Shelter for pets available at [LOCATION].”
  • “Biologists reluctant to leave Ripley’s Aquarium of the Smokies, fearing for animals.”
  • “Dolly Parton is giving $1000 a month to victims of Tennessee wildfires.”
  • “Thank you for your prayers.”
  • “We’re okay. Thank you for your thoughts.”
  • “Thank you.”

With all the tourists, it’s easy to forget that Gatlinburg is a town of only 4000 people. The more I read, the more I glimpsed a tight-knit community, generous and kind-hearted. My throat closed up.

I was wrong about Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge. I was so very wrong.

Coming on the heels of the US election and the subsequent soul-searching on the political left, this feels particularly poignant. It is so, so easy to see the JESUS SAVES signs and forget about the genuinely fervent faith enclosed within those walls. It is so, so easy to wander through a fake village and laugh at the concrete snow, not seeing the livelihoods that happen behind the STAFF ONLY doors. And this is the sort of easy self-absorption that we cannot afford. Not ever, but especially not now.

In a cabin outside Gatlinburg, I wrote both “La Corriveau” and “The Love it Bears Fair Maidens,” my first pro short fiction sales. Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge will always claim a very special place in my writer’s heart.

So.

If you enjoy my fiction—particularly those stories—may I request something?

Will you help me give back to Gatlinburg? I’ve done some digging: most donations of food, supplies, and money need to be dropped off in person, but if you’re far away—

The Dolly Parton My People Fund is here.

And a relief fund for locals and businesses has been established by the Gatlinburg Chamber of Commerce Foundation. Donations can be mailed to:

PO Box 1910

Pigeon Forge, TN

37868-1910

All my best, Tennessee. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I will never, ever look at you the same way again.

KT

What I’m Listening to this Week

I’ve never listened to Dolly Parton before, but now seems like a good time to start…