Sidney Sheldon

Sidney Sheldon has died.

Around age thirteen, I read Master of the Game. It was the first and only book of his that I read. It shocked me to think adults could be so horrible - especially to their own family members. Reading the review for it now on Amazon, I realize that I only remembered one awful moment, and the rest of the soapy epic had faded from my mind completely.

No, he was not my favourite writer, but I admire his prolificness. (According to dictionary.com, that's a word.)

At the end of the CBC obituary, he is quoted:
"Then I do a complete rewrite — 12 to 15 times," he said. "I spend a whole year rewriting."

Oh, joy.

Vancouver

I'm ba-ack.

Anyone still reading? Awesome.

Here is the low-down on my life since my last post.

Join temp agency.
Get job.
Start volunteering.
Take writing class at U of T
Circumstances demand more time spent with family.
Stop volunteering.
Class ends.
Cousin offers me chance to stay at his place in Vancouver (as he is not often there).
Job contract ends.
I go to Vancouver.

Now I am in Vancouver. I am sorry I have not blogged (nor read anyone else's blog) in so very long. I really appreciate anyone who is still checking this page out.

I have been here for two weeks and this past week has been remarkably sunny. The first week was an unending smudge of grey.

Since I've been here, I have only written on two days. Revising is a loathsome tedious process. You have to read what you've already written, acknowledge how much you hate it, resist the urge to delete the whole thing, and wrestle something better from your over-or-under-caffienated brain. It's not fun.

I will leave you with one photo from Stanley Park and I'll post more soon. This is a tree lying across the pedestrian/bike path around the perimeter of Stanley Park. Amazing and sad.