Once in a while, perhaps every four months or so, I have an urge to see what's current on the magazine racks in my local independent bookstore. In March, I bought three magazines. I could have read them in the library, but that would have meant waiting until they weren't in demand. This month I bought the Atlantic Magazine, Harper's Magazine and the New Yorker. I didn't buy a Canadian magazine. Maybe I should get a slap on the wrist or something. I do read Macleans magazine every day (Canadian mag.) in the online version, and used to read The Walrus (pretentious Canadian mag.) when I had a gift subscription. So, why choose those three magazines?
My New Yorker habit, which I had to taper down because it's a weekly magazine, started years ago. A friend who had a subscription used to give me her copies after she read them. I was hooked. I couldn't buy a copy every week, but I did buy one or two every month when I was working full time. The New Yorker has changed over the years, but I still like it - a lot. In the March 1st issue there's an article titled The Deflationist which is about the economist, Paul Krugman. His views on the stock market and the economy are the opposite of boring. In the same issue, there's an article about mountain people who live in isolation only 25 miles from New York city. The magazine also publishes wonderful fiction. And, there are cartoons - there are always cartoons in the New Yorker. Sometimes I don't understand one, but then again, I don't live in New York and I'm not young or hip.
I've been a fan of Harper's since I first browsed through one in a bookstore eons ago. Harper's Index, which appears at the front of every issue always has interesting/startling and sometimes downright weird facts to impart. From this month's issue: "Percentage of American men aged 18 to 29 who believe that standing up during sex is an effective form of contraception , 18. Percentage of U.S. public grade-school teachers who say they buy food for hungry students every month, 63." Also in the March issue, an article on "The Guantanamo 'Suicides'" and Mammon from Heaven, which is about the prosperity gospel in recession. Harper's also features readings - very short things first published in other places. For instance, I, Sexbot, which first appeared on the website of TrueCompanion.com. I'm sure you want to know that the robot, which will "deliver the ultimate in robot sex" is called Roxxxy.
The Atlantic Magazine, which is one of the oldest magazines still living, is also a favourite of mine. Where else could you find an article on How a New Jobless Era Will Transform America (yes, it's depressing) along with an article on Management Secrets of the Grateful Dead and some thoughts on preserving old video games for the cultural record.
Do you subscribe to any magazines, and if you do why did you choose them?
The weather here has been amazingly good and many more people than usual are out and about. I wonder what some of them do in the winter time and whether their foibles cause problems in close quarters. For example, there was a man on the bus with me today who loves Johnny Cash. I'm rather partial to Cash too. I think his music is three-hundred percent more real than almost any 'country' singer I can think of. Although I must admit, I don't think of country singers very often.In any event, this Johnny Cash fan had a fixation for Ring of Fire. At first, I thought he was listening to it on an ipod or CD player and didn't realize he was singing along but that wasn't the case . His brain was stuck on four lines of the song and he sang them over and over and over. He wasn't loud and he was almost in tune, but now the song is in my brain. It's a good thing the bus rider wasn't singing "We got married in a fever hotter than a pepper pot." I don't think I could have tolerated many repetitions of that line. It makes me think about food I started contemplating the sensual value of food in fiction again this week. Why? Because my daughter raved about a book so I found it at the library and have read it. The Food of Love, by A. Capella (Isn't that a lovely name for a writer?) has so many sensual descriptions of Italian food that it's overwhelming in places. It's a comedy of errors novel and while I may not remember it forever, I did enjoy it. Also it made me consider how often I use food as a descriptive vehicle in my work. In one of my stories chocolate played a key role but generally, I don't refer to food that often. Maybe I'll use it more often in the future, or maybe I'm revved up after reading about all the fine food, which often led to other delightfully sensual things. So, here is this week's question. Does the description of meals, or the preparation of them appear in your fiction with any frequency?
The federal government's budget was read to the House of Commons today and will be debated tomorrow, and perhaps on other days during this session of parliament. The enormous, vicious fire-breathing deficit dragon was not attacked with any efficient weapons. Instead, the finance minister waved a white flag at it from a distance and assured us that it would shrink to the size of a grasshopper in three or four or five years, or thereabouts. He believes this will happen because: - the economy will keep on improving (I liken this to a faith in financial miracle healing) and because - there won't be any "new" stimulus spending (so the economy will have a good time stimulating itself when the current stimulus money runs out, I assume) - and - some government salaries will be frozen and no new staff will be added. Also, taxes will not be increased and some will be decreased.I am in favour of controlling the number of people who work in government and ensuring that tax money is used wisely ( the government should listen to Kevin Page). Bureaucracies have a natural tendency to grow into huge fiefdoms given the slightest opportunity. However, I suspect that the areas most affected will be the ones that mean the least to the supporters of socially regressive Conservative party. I believe funding for the arts will decrease more than funding for other sectors since creative people are considered effete and useless. The contribution the artistic community makes to the economy will be downplayed again. Little money will be given to environmental issues because the Conservatives are sure that only wing-nut lefties care about those things and the government wants to encourage more foreign investment and more free trade. (Free trade is not 'free' but that's a subject for another post.)
Unfortunately, the Goods and Services Tax will not be increased although that would be the fairest way to begin to tackle the dragon. And yes, I think we should increase the GST. Even one percentage point would do more to decrease the deficit than anything else that has been proposed and it wouldn't be all that painful.The government says we are - open for business. Oh goody! I guess we were closed before due to our propensity to tax corporations at a rate that some people think is unacceptable. I would argue that we can never decrease taxes to the levels that some countries offer because a) we are a huge country, b) we have a small population, and c) we need to fund the programs that make us unique. We cannot do this unless we tax adequately. So what does attract business to Canada? Our health and social support programs are a big draw. Do we really need more huge corporations that make demands on local provincial and federal governments in return for possible future success (think of the auto industry bail outs)? Or, are more small and mid-sized businesses a better bet in the long haul? In spite of the recession, new small businesses start-up every day. I'd rather offer a modicum of support to them than to larger enterprises. All is not lost though, for we will save 1.8 billion each year by decreasing foreign aid. But hey! - it's only those people, so never mind about them and remember - no visible new taxes. So, get out there and buy something.
Some say, we must move with the times, but I say, let's do so very slowly and beware of the dominance of machines. I'm a big fan of slowness and my computer obliges me. I've been told it's obsolete although it is only six years old. That makes me wonder if I'm past my 'best-by' date because I'm 66. Just yesterday, my computer's diagnostic program told me that my pc doesn't have enough RAM. Now, I resent that because another part of my computer informed me that 81% of the hard drive is free space. What good is all that space if it isn't useful for RAM? I have no idea. I know that my own random access memory occasionally fails to respond to my commands and has to be prompted, but I don't know how I can acquire more RAM and I don't know how much free space for memories is left in my wee brain. I prefer to assume there is plenty.
Not only does my computer lack enough RAM but also it could not change an MSWord file into a pdf file. I searched for the answer but failed to find it. As it turns out, that's because my 'old' Office 2000 MSWord didn't offer that option. I didn't know what a pdf file was because I operate my computer on a need-to-know basis and before this week I didn't need that information. I believe there are tiny people inside the computer and one shouldn't piss them off by asking for too much. In any event, thanks to The Viking who is not a Luddite, I have a new Microsoft Office program and it converts Word files to pdf files. As of this morning, the little green people have been content to obey my commands. Now, if only I could find all the widgets that change margins and fonts and other things in my new Office program, I'd be content too. I am slowly figuring it out.
Because I'm a Luddite, I prefer to form long-term relationships with my machines and appliances, but they are often fickle and even treacherous at times. My stereo receiver which is about 25 years old (I know, yikes!) will operate the turntable and the CD player that was attached to it a couple of years ago, but it refuses to tune in FM stations anymore. Maybe it was tired of carrying only CBC radio 2. It's very old so it's entitled to be grouchy.
On the other hand, my hot water heater was only about seven years old but it peformed poorly so I sent it out of the game and bought a new one. I didn't want to retire it so early, however; the plumber who replaced it said electric hot water heaters last only about 5 to 7 years (yikes again!). He informed me of that after he gave me the $790 invoice. In this age of sophisticated machines, I wonder why no one can make one that will last as long as my stereo?
My television is only about two years old, but it isn't high-definition so it is old technology and if the local TV station disappears I'll be boob tube-less because I receive the TV signal via my aerial (ancient technology). Yes, I could hook up my computer to our local cable provider but that would be too expensive. I can survive without television as there is seldom much worth watching although I am enjoying some of the Olympics coverage.
I'd prefer not to think about the age of my central air conditioning unit which is located five floors above me, on the roof. Apparently it uses freon, so if it fails to work it can't be repaired. Freon is a banned substance now. I can only hope that fans, which are simple basic machines, will still be available if I need to buy some. Maybe I'll buy black-out blinds, but then again, I'm told the roller thingies wear out in about four years. It's enough to make a Luddite like me sew curtains by hand because I've never had any luck with sewing machines either.
Also, earlier this week our family lost our favourite car. The Crown Victoria which had carried the family to and from many places and events and served well and honourably for many years was totalled. We are all saddened by the loss of the beloved Crown Vic. I'm sure neither of the other cars will last as long or be as comfortable for long trips. They are newer cars, but they just ain't the same.
Luddites like things to stay the same, or at least same-ish and we like things that work well for long periods of time but perhaps we are obsolete too?
According to the calendar the official arrival of spring is a little over a month away. Of course, when the day arrives we could have snow, or ice, or almost any darn thing imaginable in the way of weather. The southern parts of Canada are not immune to the reappearance of winter until perhaps sometime in late May, if then.I get antsy waiting for spring to get here and want to run off to ... somewhere - to Montreal (winter is an acceptable season if I'm in Montreal) or to Mexico, if Mexico wasn't dangerous, or Costa Rica. Unless something spectacular happens, I'll be staying put. I do enjoy dreaming about travelling though. If you could go away for one week, where would you go?
My Canadian Oxford Dictionary says chutzpah is a Yiddish word that means 1: shameless audacity; cheek and 2. boldness. I wonder if writers need of it more than other people do. There are so many times when I could benefit from being audacious. Is the work ready to send out? If I have honed it past a fare-thee-well, then likely it is. But, I still hesitate. There are no places to take chutzpah lessons because, while there are assertiveness classes chutzpah is more than being assertive. There's no exact English equivalent for the word but I think chutzpah is more illogical than mere assertiveness. It's being bold in spite of the odds. Consider the number of rock singers with much more urge to flaunt themselves than talent or the men wno run Ponzi schemes. I've been thinking about this more of late, thanks to a book I picked up: How to Become a Famous Writer before You're Dead (Your words in print and your name in lights) by Ariel Gore. She has more chutzpah than any writer I know, and maybe she has more of it than of good sense. But then, when did good sense ever lead to well, seeing your name in lights - or even in a respected literary journal. Gore has a lot of fun and presents a lot of off-the-wall ideas.In any event, among her many suggestions for becoming a brazen self-promoter, there is one I'm considering. Start a zine she says. Now, I don't know how to do that, and I'm not very web savvy and there are likely many good reasons why I shouldn't even think about it. On the other hand - I know some writers, I know how to edit and I know it could be an adventure. Do you have chutzpah?
Fellow writer and blogger, Angela Addams (The Temptress, Cobblestone Press, 2009) nominated me to write on this topic.
I had to think a while since I don't want to reveal anything that would lead you to believe I'm extremely weird. I will admit that I'm odd, but most likely you are too.
The list:
1) I attended a one-room red insul-brick school for my first two years of' 'edumacation' and even when I sat in the front row, I couldn't see a darn thing. In spite of that, I learned to read and kept on reading - see point 2
2) My childhood bedroom was in the basement of my grandparents' house. The cement floor was very cold in the winter and very wet when it flooded every spring. I had an antique console radio in my room. It was large and had tubes inside that glowed in the dark. I was seldom allowed to listen to it late at night so a flashlight and a book became my companions. I don't need to use a flashlight anymore, but I still read in bed.
3) I've had very long hair and very short hair (my current style is pixie-like), curly hair and straight hair, but I've never dyed, tinted or streaked my hair. I am not opposed to doing any of those things. Someday, I might colour my hair. In the meantime I enjoy seeing the colours and styles other members of my family choose to adorn their heads.
4) When I lived in Toronto, I rented out the second bedroom in my apartment in order to almost make ends meet. I did this for quite a few years and my roomies came from exotic places like Jamaica, Somalia, Pakistan, Japan, and Hamilton Ontario. I learned a lot about what you need to tell them.. For example, don't poke at the coils inside the freezer compartment of the ancient refrigerator with a knife - the fridge doesn't like that and it will die. Please, oh please, don't mop the hardwood tiles with water. And finally, don't let your boyfriend in if he has a weapon.
5) I have no piercings anywhere on my body. I do have scars - a very long appendix scar since the surgeons were in a great rush to get inside me and a long scar on my knee.
6) I love baby beef liver and hate cooked cauliflower.
7) Most of my furnishings were given to me or inherited. In fact, if I kept only what I've purchased with my own money I'd have: a piano, a very old stereo, three sets of book shelves and a kitchen table and chairs. Thank goodness I frittered away my fortune in other ways.
Deep dark secret disclosures: I like hearing bad puns, eating real ice cream, rereading Little Women, and watching Johnny Depp in any movie, (even the Pirate movies).
In this world, a reality starlet had ten well-tended plastic surgeries.In this world, Haitian children's limbs were cut off with no anesthesia.In this world, Survivors thrived as a 'reality' television show.In this world, how many Haitians died no one can know.Are we one world, as so many now attest?When the music stops and the stars move on to other causes, other showsThe lost and broken ones move off the screen but they existIn this world.
First, a thank-you to the people who responded to my previous post about editors. I'm only annoyed and disappointed when an editor says something vague like - it's not our style. And yes, I do get over my anger. I'm a Cancer sign so that takes time because Cancer people are stubborn, though I prefer to think of us as tenacious.
I hope my brother is tenacious too, he is back in the hospital and we don't know much yet. Writing is hard to do when one's fingers are permanently crossed. Therefore, I decided to mention a couple of books I recommend.
Delivery by Betty Jane Hegerat (Oolichan Books 2009) is an absorbing and sometimes heart-wrenching novel about a young woman who has to decide whether to give away her baby. The baby's grandmother gets involved and then ... no, I can't reveal what happens. Read it. It's excellent.
During my volunteer shelf-reading stint at the library on Wednesday, I discovered Outwitting Writer's Block and Other Problems of the Pen by Jenna Glatzer. It has already given me quite a few laughs and given my current frame of mind, that's no easy task. The book is light-hearted - a rare thing since it's about a serious, or semi-serious subject. It won't ever be classed as "literature", but it's fun to read. Here's a sample quote:
"You decide Real Writers would never stare at a blank page for three days. .... You are defective ....Don't think I'm going to correct you. ...If I weren't so defective in the first place I'd probably never be a writer ... But the world needs us weirdos. If we didn't write about the glorious lives of bag ladies, mountain climbers, misfits, barflies, and homecoming queens, who would? So, go right ahead and be defective and write anyway."
I haven't finished the book yet, but I found more to giggle about this morning, and more motivation too.
Write.
In very old western movies, the bad guys were easy to identify and were known as black hats. Sometimes, editors must be bad guys. I wore my black hat on Boxing Day weekend when I took on the role of gunslinger/editor and shot down long confusing sentences. They were not my sentences but it was not an easy task. I feared I would be ambushed by the obscure jargon which lurked amidst the already complex language thickets of a long report. I was also afraid that my client wouldn't accept all of the many changes I had made. Fortunately she accepted almost all of them and I became the good guy, white hat, this time.
It is far easier to edit other people's writing, especially non-fiction writing than it is to edit my own fiction. Some of the fiction rejections I received recently have offered comments. My first reaction to any negative comment received in a rejection letter is always anger. Yes, I know, that's not the way to respond. I'm working on it, and I'll continue to work on my stories too.
It's a new year and there is hope.
It is the winter solstice, the longest night of the year. At the moment, the light in my living room comes from my small Christmas tree-of-hope in one corner by the window and the sweet grass candle on my dining room table. I light this candle when I want to concentrate on sending good thoughts into the universe and as the sky grows ever darker and night draws in to surround me; I remember that tomorrow the day will be longer and I hope for many things.I hope that my family members will find work to sustain them. I hope that two of my long-time friends will also find work to sustain them. I hope that a very dear friend's mother will be given more grace and favour time to be with those she loves. I hope that my brother's health continues to improve. Yes, I hope for the greater good too. World peace, an end to hunger, and the realization that this small blue globe is fragile and needs our immediate care.I will be hoping and praying for these things this evening. As my pagan friend says "Blessed be."May all your hope trees bear sweet fruit.
As I type this, the snow is falling thick and fast. The roads are slippery and some sidewalks are invisible. There was a vicious wind this morning when I went out to gather just a few things and lugged two heavy bags full of treats back to my cave - and it isn't even winter yet. I know why our ancestors almost hibernated at this time of year, and why they put weight on in the fall. I think it's ingrained, that instinct to eat and eat because who knows when the next mastodon will pass by. So, I will enjoy my treats, in moderation, and postpone regrets until the weather improves, or until I forget to regret, whichever comes first. After all, it's gloomy out there. It gets dark enough now to need lights on in my apartment by four-thirty in the afternoon and sometimes even earlier.For me, lights are an essential part of the celebration and the anticipation of return of the sun after the shortest day of the year ends. I do my best to conserve energy, but I must have Christmas tree lights, and lights on in my living space when the skies are grey and the weatherman predicts still more greyness in the days ahead. By 5:30, my lights will be on and they will stay on until it's time for me to go to sleep. There are incandescent lights on the Christmas tree, in my reading lamp and in the ceiling fixture over the dining room table. The rest of the lights are those wriggly energy-saving bulb thingies, and daylight fluorescent tubes in the kitchen. They do not please me.. Incandescent lights give a warmth that other types of lighting don't provide. Besides, incandescent is an inspiring word, "intense in feeling, expression, ardent," according to the Oxford Canadian Dictionary. I need all the inspiration I can get.Enjoy the season of lights.
Christmas is approaching rapidly. Somehow, as soon as December arrives the days are too short for all the things I think I should do. So I pick some 'want to do" things and let the rest go. I want to say a bit about happiness which is often a fleeting thing but always welcome when it pays a visit. Sometimes the reasons for my happiness are tiny. For instance, the appearance of a charming and peaceful eight-week-old baby at our condominium Christmas party and my ability to use the tiny (and tinny) keyboard to play Christmas music at the party. I also used a tiny bit of self-deprecating humour to get people to relax and sing along with me.Then, there's the word itself. "Tiny"" is short and not appealing to the ear, except when used by The Viking in this phrase. "She's a tiny woman, like you." I am not a 98 pound weakling or wonder. I'm a middle of the road woman, with a middle. But, I'd never disagree him. It's too delightful to hear him say those words and they always make me smile.How can I apply the theme of this post to my writing life. Well, there has been a tiny bit of progress in the last three months. I wrote a short story ( It needs revisions and I will get to them.) I edited a couple of articles for my daughter and also had one paid assignment. Tiny things all, but still, they are good things. I wish you good things, both tiny and large, for the holidays.
It's a weird ol' world, ain't it? The Prime Minister accuses his parliamentary opponents of slagging the Canadian Armed Forces. They didn't. Before that, he accused a Canadian senior bureaucrat of being both incompetent and a liar. From all reputable reports, the bureaucrat is competent and was forwarding information he had received. Today, there is a picture of Harper at sea, in a small boat. He is not wearing a life jacket. I can only wonder what lie he will tell about this mistake, and who he will blame. At the moment, I wish he was far out at sea in a small boat, without a life jacket, and alone. I will try to get over feeling this way about our supposed leader, whose actions indicate that he knows only how to attack and doesn't know how to lead by example or by working with others, but it won't be an easy task for me. Maybe the Christmas spirit will find me, and find Mr. Harper too. I sure hope so.
I followed Margaret Springer's advice. "I will do my best work and send it to the top appropriate markets, working down from there as ncessary. (Otherwise I'll never know how good I am)."So, in the last three weeks, I've had three rejections from major literary short story markets (in Canada). It ain't no fun, but I've accepted them and my next goal is to get the stories out again.Not this weekend though, since the weather is perfect and The Viking and I will spend time together. I'll start on Monday - that seems appropriate.
I've had more than a week's worth of wildness, weirdness and water. It's been like a roller coaster ride, and while I enjoy roller coasters, I appreciate them more from a distance. So, here's what has happened since my last post.First, I heard the great news about my brother's health. The major surgery and all the treatments he endured have put him among the 5% of people who beat the odds. It was a terrific birthday present for him and for all of us. And after that there was more good news. The Viking has to have a nasty test periodically and his results were fine. Hooray for our side and all that.I almost didn't get depressed when I received another rejection note, because - I had aimed high - and I received interesting advice. However, I was fretting and holding my breath for another reason. My daughter and son-in-law were in negotiations to sell their business. it got complicated, way too complicated, and communications were a big problem. I continued to fret about their situation until 4:45 Thursday morning when there was a loud knocking at my door. If that had happened when I lived in my old apartment in Toronto, I would have known it was a drunk person and would have ignored it. However, if there are drunks in this building, they don't roam the halls, so I went to the door. The man who lives below me wanted to know if I had water in my laundry room. Oh boy! did I, and it was seeping toward the living room. We looked at the ceiling in the laundry room and discovered water was dripping down through the air conditioning duct system, or from somewhere else above me. I grabbed my mop and pail and got to work. I thought I was making headway and then the drip got faster and faster. So I had to mop faster and faster and faster. It was still coming down and I wondered what on earth had happened above me. After a time, my neighbour returned and told me a hot water heater two floors above me had burst and they were waiting for the plumber. I mopped some more, then the head came off the mop (probably in protest at the abuse it was taking), I popped it back in and continued. My arms and my back and arms were aching by then, but I didn't dare stop. Finally at about 6:30 the wet invasion ended and I made progress. By 7 a.m. no more water was arriving and I had mopped up everywhere. But, water had seeped under a corner of the living room carpet.For two long days and two long nights, I had an industrial dehumidifier and fan running constantly. Everything is dry now, but I have something else to worry about. What about my hot water heater? There was good news at the end of the week though. My daughter and son-in-law have sold their business. What's next. They don't know yet and neither do I, but I'm sure it will be good.I hope for a calm week ahead with no more flooding and lots of writing time.
No, it doesn't say male oddities. That's another subject and I have only limited experience with certain kinds of male oddities. Never you mind.So, about mail, real mail that is. The kind that comes in an envelope and is delivered by a mail carrier. I have received a weird selection of things over the last few days. First, I got a letter from one of the banks about a RIF cheque that had been issued to my friend, The Bear, in 2000 and never cashed. I found a lot of uncashed cheques in The Bear's apartment when I took over his affairs, but I didn't find that one. I am amazed that the bank has offered to reissue it. However, I filled in the required paperwork and sent it in. If I receive a replacement cheque, I'll be re-amazed. Then, I found one of my self-addressed stamped envelopes returned by certain Canadian literary journal. I knew right away it contained a rejection because I could see the tiny little slip of paper inside. So, I have another "no" slip to add to my growing pile but the thing is, I can't discover what I sent to them. Normally I write down my submissions in three places, sigh. I know I'll figure it out, it's probably a late, late, late, reply, but I can't figure out why that little envelope took over two weeks to arrive according to the post mark. Maybe it came by lame pony express, or maybe the mail sorters (out of luck writers?) knew what was in it and decided to delay the bad news. I never expect mail to be swift but once in a great while, I'm surprised. I was surprised today, because I ordered four books from Chapters/Indigo on Monday - ship by regular mail - and they were outside my apartment door today (Thursday). The books wouldn't fit in my mailbox and I wasn't home, so the mail carrier, who is male, brought them upstairs. I don't know if it's legal to do that but he did. Now I have four Christmas presents on hand, but they're not for the males in my life. Also, today I also received another book in the mail from a friend. "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society" is a wonderful title and I'm looking forward to reading the book. The last item in the mail was a cheque for a little bit of technical writing I completed last week. Things go in streaks, so probably next week there will be nothing in my mail box except bills.Have you received any good or weird mail?
In this morning's newspaper, the UN food agency reports that the number of hungry people has increased to 1.2 BILLION and will continue to rise if the right kind of help is not given. The short article about this appears on the World News page (page 7) rather than on the front page where I think it belongs. There is no editorial addressing this either. The paper does have a local focus, but this issue is so huge, and growing, that I think it should have had a lot more attention.
Has hunger in other parts of the world become just a background noise that we can ignore? After all we have heard the refrain so often. "People are starving in ________.
" Well," some folk say, "we send food, and then more food. and things never improve , why don't they help themselves?" I understand why they say that but, that response ignores a lot of factors like wars, displacement, prolonged drought and the fact that agricultural aid to increase food production has dropped.
When I donate money towards world hunger, as I did today, after reading the newest numbers, I choose agencies that work toward long term results, like The Mennonite Central Committee's Food for All program. My point is a lot more people might do that if they knew the benefits.
Shouldn't we take care of our own first? That's something I've heard people say too. So, what about local hunger? Food banks in our area report that demand has increased because of higher unemployment and other factors. The Thanksgiving food drive hasn't reached it's goal yet. My daughter and son-in-law's business participated this year, as they did last year. The amount of food they collected from their customers was slightly lower this year (847 pounds), but since they have fewer customers due to the economic downturn, I'd say they had a good result, although they had hoped for more donations. A local church offered a free Thanksgiving meal and had record numbers of diners. I am not surprised, since people on assistance (government income support programs like workfare and ODSP) often have a very hard time paying for both rent and food. These are the very same people that are accused of spending all their money on drink and cigs. I can tell you from experience - most recipients of government assistance don't do that. Yet, the myth endures.
Meanwhile, the media give us more and more infotainment (sorry, I hate the word, but that's what they call it) and less and less hard news.
Maybe it's our fault. We don't want to hear about it and it doesn't sell papers, or make people click on Internet ads. Are the people that run the publishing conglomerates right and what we want is more fake news - the latest about the celebrities of the moment? Or, could the real news actually sell?
I don't own more than an average amount of technology and some of what I have is obsolete. My stereo receiver and turntable were purchased in about 1986. They still work, but I can't tune in CBC Radio One on the FM band, though CBC Radio Two reception is fine. When my AM-FM clock radio stopped working, I found a new one at crappy Tire. The price? A whopping $9.00, tax included. The radio is in the bedroom, close to the window and it picks up the CBC Radio One signal clearly. The radio was made in China, as was my previous one which was only two years old when it died. It's impossible to buy small electronic items that are made in Canada. Everything is made off-continent. I wonder how long my new radio will last, and I wonder about a couple of other things, too.
If e-books are the way of the future, and many people believe they are, then how often would one have to buy a new device to read the books, and if the device dies, don't the stored books die with it?
I don't want to read a book using an electronic device - give me the real book My favourite way to read the printed word is on paper. In fact, I just subscribed to the local newspaper because I don't want to read it online. Also, if the local television station folds and it might as cable wars continue. I want a reasonably current source of local information.
How much am I contributing to environmental degradation? Paper can be recycled. Little is said about the cost of disposing of dead electronic stuff. Then there's the Internet - you seldom see much info about the enormous amounts of energy that are required to run it and other electronic devices - Crackberries and the like.
I'm glad I have access to the Internet, however, if I had to, I could live without it. But I absolutely must have my books.
My daughter and I had a chat a couple of days ago and one of the things she said made me think about how I interact with money. She said left-wing people ( she knows I lean to the left) often see 'profit' as a bad thing. I can't speak for others on the left, but I know businesses need to make money and since my daughter and her husband run a business, I certainly hope that it will be successful enough to make a profit.
But ......
I think small businesses, such as the one my son-in-law and daughter run are often far more ethical then public corporations. First of all, treating your employees well by paying a reasonable wage and offering what benefits you can afford is the right thing to do. It also makes good business sense to participate in your community and be a good business citizen. "Doing it right' will not necessarily generate a quick profit, or any profit at all, in the beginning - aye, there's the rub. But, I believe that over the long haul a good business reputation is worth a lot.
"Soulless corporations" used to be a left-wing expression. I haven't heard it much lately though it still has value. Why? A publicly owned corporation has only one purpose and that is to make money for its shareholders. People who own shares had grown accustomed to getting larger and larger dividends, no matter what, so solid long-term investments that would provide a lower rate-of-return were scorned. Big fish swallowed little fish and were in turn swallowed by even bigger (and sometimes mythical ) fish, On and on it went, Then the market crashed and there was a lot of talk about regulations, but little if anything has been done to change things.
Greed, not profit, is the dirty word here.
How does all this apply to writing?Well, think of a best selling writer whose book is like a bag of Cheezies. You pay more for it than it's worth, perhaps because so many others are reading it and you want to be au courant. After you finish it, you're left with orange fingers, and maybe a stomach ache, but little or no substance. Then, the writer produces another Cheezie, because, after all, the first one did so well, he has already has the template and why not take the easy way out and reuse it. The product reaches the shelves quickly but maybe a third one doesn't sell as well as the first two.
However; there are the authors who write books that stay in your mind for years. Often, they don't sell that many books, but their readers are not disappointed, they are sustained, maybe even changed by what they have read. I'd rather write something lasting than write a Cheezie and if my work should happen to make a profit, I'll happily accept my share.
