Tag Archives: writing

Buying Stock in Myself

This morning I discovered (thanks to The Facebook) an upcoming writers’ retreat, chockablock full of writing seminars and one-on-one coaching opportunities. I’ve heard of many similar retreats, but this one sounded RIGHT to me, for a few different reasons.

It’s silly for me to go to Ontario in May for a writers’ retreat. It’s expensive, logistically complicated travel-wise, and there’s the whole matter of what to do with Isaac for a week. Also, my dad (a retired contractor and journeyman carpenter — a good guy to have in your corner) is helping me build a house this year, and May will be a busy time house-building-wise.

BUT.

I really want to go.

I faced that same internal dilemma so many of us feel, when we WANT to do something, we LONG to do something because it’s a step toward OUR DESTINY, or at least that dream we’ve always longed to fulfill. But for some responsible/imagined reason, we think: “no, I shouldn’t do that.”

You know what I’m talking about. I’m sure you’ve experienced this. The wannabe traveller sees an ad for Italy or Peru and stares at it for an extra second, before moving on with life. The person who dreams of farming drives slowly past the For Sale sign on that perfect plot of land. You see a job posting for a dream job, which would require some extra effort, like relocating or asking colleagues for references. And so you don’t make that leap (as John would say).

But I’m going to this writers’ retreat, dammit, and here is why, via a roundabout explanation:

I’ve been learning a lot about financial investments lately, starting with the money management book Brock recommended: The Smart Canadian Wealth-Builder, by Peter Dolezal. I’ve enjoyed reading this book, which is surprising since money management has always bored and intimidated me. I find it so helpful that I want to make my own “Coles’ notes” powerpoint of the book’s main points and share it with family and friends. (Stay tuned for that exciting, multi-media feature!)

Anyhoo, one section of the book is about debt. There are good debts (worth taking on) and bad debts (to avoid, as much as possible). Good debts are:

  1. a mortgage (i.e. investing in homeownership/real estate), and
  2. education (i.e. investing in yourself).

One of Brock’s many random inventions was that we should be able to “buy stock” in people who we thought would achieve something Great in their lifetimes. We actually did this in small ways, like contributing to political campaigns and giving books and equipment to new farmers. But here’s a wacky idea: I can “buy stock” in my own potential greatness, by investing in writing retreats, subscribing to One Stop for Writers, and paying the (US$) sign up fee for the annual NYC Midnight writing challenge.

By committing to my writing aspirations, with my energy, time and money, those dreams are more likely to come true. Even if I had to go into debt to do it, investing in myself would be a “good debt.”

The Best Gift Brock Gave Me

No, it wasn’t that awesome money management book (although it is so helpful). It was that I 100% know Brock would support me going to this retreat, or doing whatever I think helpful on my path to becoming a good writer. When I face that same internal dilemma we all have when opportunities arise, all I have to do is think “What would Brock say?” and I know I’m buying that airline ticket.

This was the best gift we gave each other: not only supporting each other’s dreams, but arguing for the pursuit of them. In spring 2016, when Brock listed all the reasons he shouldn’t go to that amazing philosophers’ conference in Ottawa that coming weekend, it was my job and my pleasure to list all the reasons why we should go, to dismiss the financial challenges and line up Isaac-care. I know Brock would do the same for me — he did the same for me, when he was still alive.

I don’t need Brock’s blessing, or that of anyone else, but it makes me happy to know he would be cheering me on. And sometimes that little extra encouragement is enough to make me leap.

Me and Brock at the 2016 Civitas conference in Ottawa, Ontario.

Postmodernism in the Traditional Mystery

Kinda like in rap music, there’s a lovely “inside joke” tradition within the traditional mystery genre whereby mystery novels reference other/previous mystery novels and their authors.

For example: a character in Louise Penny’s contemporary mystery series might read Agatha Christie.

And an Agatha Christie character might read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock.

In my own manuscript it proved irresistible to include my own references to Agatha Christie and M.C. Beaton. I felt like these (sometimes subtle) references gave me street cred with my future readers, demonstrating that I’ve thoroughly studied the canon and therefore know what I’m doing. (I have watched every season of Murder, She Wrote and Columbo, after all.)

Also, devout mystery readers love hidden clues, and by naming my protagonist’s love interest “Hamish” (as a nod to M.C. Beaton’s Constable Hamish MacBeth), we’re sharing an understanding.

Also: when Louise Penny’s Inspector Armand Gamache reads a Miss Marple mystery (by Agatha Christie), Ms. Penny makes the character of Armand more real to her readers, because he is JUST LIKE US: he is reading the same stories we’ve read. Therefore he’s not a fictional character: he’s as real as we are.

And at the same time (as per Newton’s Third Law, kinda) when Louise Penny’s character reads a Miss Marple book, that act simultaneously emphasizes that Miss Marple is FICTIONAL. She is not real. It discredits Miss Marple as “one of us real people.”

AND SO … here’s a thought that blows my mind … What if I write a story wherein one of my characters reads a Louise Penny book, and then, since she’s still writing new mysteries, one of Louise Penny’s characters then reads a Heather McLeod book?

WHO IS REAL? Who is real-er? My character or Chief Inspector Gamache????

Crazy pants.

New goal: have Louise Penny reference a Heather McLeod book in one of her novels.