Huh...

Seems I found myself an agent after all.
Neat.

And as fine a tardy birthday present as I could have asked for.

It's my birthday, too...

Today, I take yet another step into that murky territory know as "thirty something." I could be coy, but why bother? It's boring, and I don't exactly look (or act) my age.

I've just turned 34.

My intended present to myself was supposed to have been an agent, but that seems to have fallen through.

So instead, I've decided to indulge in a four-day celebration of drinks, dinners, good food and excellent company. Tonight is the last night of my binge, where I can be found celebrating our mutual birthday with a friend, along with some of our other friends. And it could possibly be the worst evening, given that champagne tends to do quite a number on my poor little body "the morning after."

I think the multi-day celebration is really the key to enjoying your birthday. Complete self-indulgence. Two birthday cakes plus birthday desserts.

I'd like to speculate on what the next year will bring, or what I would like to achieve... But I have to be honest. I actually like the idea that there is a year of unexpectedness ahead.

I hope for a year filled with good things.
I hope for a year in which family and friends are healthy, happy and safe.
I hope for a year where, at the very end, I can step back and say, "That was one of the finest years of my life."

And I hope it will be for you, too.

Looking for an art print...

It's a long shot, but I'm trying to locate a print of a piece of art by Lucian Freud. It's called Big Sue, and I'm having a helluva time finding even a postcard of the image anywhere.

Were I disgustingly rich, I would try and purchase the thing, but for now, I simply would like a print to frame as a gift for someone. So if you ever come across it, do let me know...

Just a thought...

"Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time."


--WH Auden

Stop using your children to hide your prudery

I'm bored talking about myself, and I'm even more bored with listening or reading my sulking. And I've certainly had enough of the "get a real job" shit.

So in my usual way, I'm going to quickly change the subject and discuss something else.

I've recently found myself sickened by the machinations of psueudo Judeo-Christian organizations forcing their righteous, indignant little fingers into the the media. Television, Film, art, books... They seem intent on trampling down people's rights to freedom and freedom of expression -- all in the name of "morals" and "family values."

Our fabulous conservative government has slid in a new bill (C-10, I believe it's called) that allows the government to assess its funding of Canadian film according to decency standards. Too much nudity? Funding pulled.

At the same time, there are smarmy little groups in the US bitching and moaning about the suggestion of nudity on television -- such as a nude photoshoot for America's Next Top Model, where all naughty bits were hidden by blankets and blurring. It's horrifying enough that these uptight religious groups have turned most films on non-cable networks into farcical works by eliminating "contentious content" and unacceptable language... or worse still, by dubbing "Family friendly" words over the actors' mouths, but when we continue to berate television studios for even suggesting nudity, I think we've taken our prudery a little too far.

Firstly, stop using "the children" as pawns -- as adults and parents, it is YOUR responsibility to monitor and control the things your children are exposed to on film and television. Do not censor my art, film and television merely because you are too lazy to do anything other than dump your child in front of the TV, remote in hand.

With a few strange exceptions, my parents didn't believe in shielding me from anything that didn't cause us nightmares. I think my mom tried to keep anything too porny off the TV, but nudity and sex certainly weren't restricted from our television screens.

In fact, the only thing I really remember my mother banning from my TV watching was G.I. Joe -- something about promoting Americanism. Why my mother felt a 10-year-old little girl would understand the complexities of manifest destiny, pro-military action rah-rah-ness is beyond me.

And something strange happened to me from my TV watching... I developed the ability to think critically about television. To watch the fluff and commercial filler on the boob tube and assess its suitability, its messages and its subversive suggestions. And even better -- I don't watch a lot of it. I love movies, and I have one or two shows I enjoy, but I'd still rather curl up with a book.

So it angers me to see religious groups running around and screaming about the so-called indecency of TV.

The truth is, you're prudes. You can't deal with anything that makes you question your religion, your body, or your fascist conservative ideologies.

And I've never met a pious nut who wasn't a complete hypocrite -- I've yet to meet a bible-thumper who was consistent in their religious beliefs. From what I can tell, most of them use their bible to reinforce their narrow-mindedness and bigotry... while conveniently ignoring any passages that might apply to them.

So keep your bible and your religion. Enjoy them, practice them and use them in good health. But keep it out of my life unless I request otherwise.

And quit hiding behind your children.
The truth is, they probably think you're a fecking idiot, too.

So say the stars...

My horoscope today:

"You need to stick it out through the current situation, no matter how much you want to cut and run. Your perseverance will pay off in the long run in a big, almost unimaginable, way."

I just wish the bloody things were actually accurate and not just random musing of some chump sitting at a computer.

Clucking away...

Well, that was a fantastically fun (read: soul-shrinkingly miserable) weekend.

I truly experienced the greatest professional joys (read: drowning in a glorious puddle of failure) and made en effort to enjoy the lovely weather (read: sulked and moped around the house and ate shitty food while watching shitty TV).

For now, I haven't so much pulled myself out of the water so much as have grasped part of the riverbank and am gasping for breath.

Yet despite four or five days of depression, fear, anxiety and general surliness, I seem to have emerged feeling angry and motivated. "You WILL accept me into the publishing world. You WILL hand me cheques that will enable me to pay rent and bills. You WILL acknowledge me.")

Mmmm... denial. It is truly a happy land when I feel the world ignores me.


And to go on a totally different tangent -- I found myself watching the second and third episodes of Star Wars this evening (I can't sit through Episode I without retching, although neither II nor III are particularly palatable)... and when the end credits came up, all I could hear was cluck-singing a la Robot Chicken.

Strange.

The Bottom

So this is it.
Today I started looking for a full-time job.

I feel like such a failure. I keep trying not to burst into tears, but I will be honest enough to confess that I can barely see the keyboard right now. It is suspiciously blurry. I can't imagine why...

This is shaping up to be a rather terrible day.

My freelancing seems to have run out. I did my last assignment a few days ago, and asked my editor about further work. All I've received is silence. And I know this industry well enough to know that silence is not usually a positive thing. Sort of a how-do-I-crush-this-person-in-such-a-way-that-I-can-sleep-at-night thing.

I've spent the last couple of weeks querying my pants off -- contacting agents in the UK and trying to finds someone willing to take a chance. The funny (and incredibly frustrating part) is that so far, people really do seem to like my writing quite a bit. Problems occur from publishers who just can't seem to find a place for my work, and through agents who are either too busy with other clients or think I need to write a series.

But I think any new little series is going to have to wait. As of this moment, I have no income, no savings, and mammoth amounts of debts. Not to mention irksome living expenses.

So full-time employment it is.

Experiment failed. The End.

Not sure why I thought it would end differently. I guess in the end, the only person you really end up fooling --- and disappointing -- is yourself. And it's kind of heartbreaking.