Both of my parents retired early. My dad decided to retire the summer when I was between seventh and eighth grade, and my mom was offered a killer package while I was in grade ten. Also, more than once when I was growing up, my dad took a year off (once when I was in kindergarten, and again when I was in grade four). While I certainly have a lot of memories of my parents working -- babysitters, my own house key, calling them at work to complain about my brother -- I have an equal amount of experience with my parents not working.

Shortly after both my parents through in the towel on the whole working thing, I remember a conversation. We were sitting outside having a cup of tea on a rather glorious day, and they both remarked on how unbelievably busy they were since they retired. I remember distinctly my dad saying "How did we ever find time to work?"

I feel a bit of that right now. Barring one day when I think I was awake for a grand total of eight hours, it's been crazy around here. Last weekend was a mission. Trash Palace on Friday (Christopher Plummer! John Candy! the Eaton Centre! pulled pork sandwich stains!), Free Comic Book Day/Dinner/Wolverine Saturday, the Clothing Show and a BBQ on Sunday. Then there was sleeping for sixteen hours and poetry reading (hearing Jen Currin, Christine LeClerc, Kim Mikus and Kevin Connolly read at the National Poetry Month Hangover was spectacular) and OMG I ACTUALLY WROTE SOMETHING I DON'T HATE. There have been cleaning missions and a day of cooking (mm..carrot cake). I've actually no idea how on earth I structured my time before.

This weekend is shaping up to be a dozy too. Not only is it the Toronto Comic Arts Festival, but the Trash Palace is celebrating it's second anniversary with a dusk-til-dawn 5-feature extravaganza. It's like the world's coolest, smelliest slumber party. Cactus Press is also having a launch tonight, and there's some black metal happening at Smiling Buddha Bar. I don't really even see enough time for sleeping in there.

For the last several months, BK has been teasing me about my lack of party. He found my going-to-bed-early and getting-up-in-the-morning and not-drinking-all-the-time schedule somewhat at odds to the person who made grilled cheese in his kitchen at 4:30 am. The other day, I got teased for my endless string of "let's do this cool thing!" facebook invitations (I believe he suggested I put together a weekly Natalie Zed Activities Newsletter). While I did feel a little sheepish, it also made me feel like I was doing something right with this time.

Outside it is gloriously sunny. The trees have finally broken. Everything is warm and green, and I think I hear a patio calling to me.

Labels: Literary Events, Toronto, Unemployment

Announcing the formation of a new Canadian literary magazine!

STEPHEN HARPER: a journal of the literary arts

Dedicated to the publication of Canadian literary talent, STEPHEN
HARPER is looking for said talent to bombard our inbox with your best
writing. We are looking for submissions from across Canada in both
official languages.

Submissions should be made via email to
stephen.harper.literary.concern@gmail.com. Submissions should remain
under 1 page as budget constraints are also size restraints. Deadline
is as soon as possible! We will start reading as soon as submissions
start rolling in!

We look forward to reading your submissions!

ryan fitzpatrick & Natalie Zina Walschots
STEPHEN HARPER Managing Editors

About STEPHEN HARPER:

STEPHEN HARPER was started as the first magazine under new funding
guidelines made by the Canadian Periodical Fund. We believe that the
best response to these new guidelines is to try to produce a literary
journal streamlined enough to meet the new realities of today’s
publishing industry. STEPHEN HARPER has an official subscription base
of 413 – each MP and senator in the Canadian government is a
subscriber, including our namesake! As well, STEPHEN HARPER will be
starting a list of unsubscribers (the SH! list) of people not quite
lucky enough to be members of Canada’s own government, but who still
wish to receive the light of STEPHEN HARPER into their heart.

Labels: Literary Events

Jordan Scott is in town; the chat I had with him Wedneday night after Influency did wonders to dissipate the general cloud of blarg that has been hovering over me for the past week and a half. Hearing that someone stood up for me made me feel human again.

Jordan and Meredith Quartermain tie, I think, for the best experiences I've had in Influency so far. I took the class because I didn't recognize all of the authors on the curriculum (4 out of 9 were familiar, I think), but the chance to see Jordan read was a huge draw as well. Watching him fight through the words is excruciatingly beautiful. I am not sure I'll ever get tired of it.

I've also had to bury myself in work a bit lately, since we're in the midst of one of the four small crunches that happen each year, and nothing lets me slip into intellectual oblivion like pushing myself to produce. At least, that's what I though. But the work, while absorbing, has a bit of a pattern to it. Unlike composing, my higher lobes are often left free to wander, and as a result I end up working though a lot in my mind while my hands adn discursive, surface mind are busy. It's a lot like knitting or crochet, the latter of which I'd like to pick up again.

I am picking up things again. I am starting to see myself, slowly and tentatively, looking for new projects, planning things, even being slightly eager to pitch in. It's an exciting prospect, as it means I've healed even more, but it also makes me nervous. It's an impulse I have to keep carefully in check. I am finally sleeping a bit at night, like humans do, and I don't want to go wrecking any newly-sprouted healthy patterns just yet.

Labels: Family and Friends, Literary Events

So I have a secret that really isn't a secret at all, but one that I didn't want to put in writing until it manifested fully. And manifest did it ever.

About two months ago, word came out that the Calgary branch of McNally Robinson was closing. I This meant that the city was losing a huge, great independent books store, and the literary community was losing a friendly, receptive, FREE venue for events. Specifically, McNally Robinson has always (since 2003) been the home of flywheel, the reading series I currently co-organize. And now we all needed to find new homes. Blech.

A few weeks ago, maybe 2 days after I got back from Paris, I was at the Talon launch at Art Gallery of Calgary, jetlageed out the wazoo. When everyone else was going to the Joyce to drink and schmooze, just wanted to go home. Simone, one of the Overlords of Pages Books, was heading out, and so I helped her load books into her car and asked for a ride home. She happily obliged, and while driving presented me with a truly ridiculously awesome offer:

She asked if I would take over her position as Pages' events coordinator.

After nearly having an aneurysm due to excess awesome, I accepted. There was an odd period where I couldn't tell anybody, because I still had to meet the other owner of Pages, Ben. That went incredibly well. Then there was an additional odd period because the reason I am taking over for Simone is a conbination of McNally's closing (which has caused the demand for Pages as both a venue and a bookseller to skyrocket) and the fact ythat Simone is pregnant and, at the time, was still in her first trimester and not telling anyone. Then there was about two weeks when my mom was here, and I had quit the old Print Shop job but not started the new job yet, so felt a bit like a fraud talking about it.

Wednesday, I worked my veyr first event: I sold books at the launch of Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. It was a great night busy but not overwhelming. Simone was kind, Katerina was a blast, my mom got to do something cool, and I had officially started my new life of awesome.

Last night was my first night in the store (the previous event was attended by around 700 people at Knox United Church), and it was another book launch: Rebecca Bradley's The Lateral Truth. Bradley has written a lot of sci-fi and fantasy, but this she described as "pure blasphemy." Bradley read to a packed house, circulated many hors d'euvres and poured a lot of wine while I leanred to work the cash machine and check things in the inventory (though I did manange to wrangle a smoken salmon canape). I also learned about a literary community in Calgary I'd had nearly no contact with at all: the sci-fi fantasy community. Apprently it's very active here in the city, which I suppose shouldn't be suprising considering all the conferences that come through town and the publisher, Edge Books, being based here. Still, it was something I really didn't know about, and it was really cool to be able to peek into that community and hopefully be more connected to it in the future.

I am wokring 6-9 again tonight. It will actually be my first night on the job that isn't working an event, but rather is just learning the ropes in the store. Simone is doing a great job of easing me in, letting me hang back when I need to or jump in when I feel confident. I am just beginning to see how immense, and how potentially excellent, this job actually is.

Ever sine The Rejection, I've felt lost. I've tried to stay busy, be as upbeat as possible, engage is positive self-talk. But when I really got quiet and listened, I had to admit I feld groundless. Working a job that was pleasant and easy for another year was actually a terrifying prospect. This, however, is going to be hard. I am going to flounder, and fuck up, and lay awake at night fretting. It's going to be wonderful.

Labels: Literary Events, Pages Books

On Saturday, I participated in the "You're Just My Type!" event and Arts Central, hosted and organized by the lovely Janine Van Gool of Uppercase gallery. At 2pm, there was a reading in the Pallette coffee shop. The reading was attended by a modest but very enthusiastic audience. It was particularly interesting for me to hear Paulina Constancia read -- I was completely unfamiliar with her work, and the bilingual pieces she performed were lovely to listen to. This was also the first time I'd heard ryan fitzpatrick read from his newest series, and I was very pleased by how well they can off. I've been reading them as they've appeared on facebook, and I expected them to go over well, but the vulnerability that ryan infused them with -- or perhaps that the pieces infused ryan with -- was unexpected and extremely effective. I think he's really got something here, and I can't wait to see where they go.

After the reading, for the rest of the afternoon the readers milled bout as poets for hire. The idea was that we were to write poems for anyone who asked, which they could then turn in to cards with all the awesome stationary Janine supplied. However, it seems our potential hirers were typewriter-shy, so most of us began to make our own cards and poems and other poetic doohickies for each other. I was particularly proud of the card I made for Ed, which has crushed pieces of potato chips glued to the cover that soaked ominously through the envelope on the way home.

Labels: Literary Events

There are two kinds of events. Both types can be wildly successful or complete disasters or anywhere in between, but no matter where they fall on the success-o-meter they will inevitably reveal themselves to be one of these two event types.

First, you have those events that you carry every inch of the way. In order for the event to actually happen, the planner my fight, claw, threaten, and cajole everything and everyone in to place. Nothing comes easily, and if the planner isn't there every step of the way coaxing or flogging it along, the event will collapse in on itself and not happen.

Then there are events that develop their own momentum. Somewhere along the line, these events take over, and even if you tried you couldn't stop them from happening. Like the Grindery in Lunar Knights, they become these huge things thundering across the landscape, and you couldn't stop them happening event if you threw yourself in their path.

The Calgary Extravaganza fell squarely into the latter category. Somewhere around the time that the Herald approached Neil and I for an interview (arranged by the indomitable Tiffany Regaudie over at NeWest) about the tour and the upcoming event, I lost control of the momentum completely. If I did nothing else, if I even tried to stop it, I am fairly certain the event would have happened anyway.

As it was, I couldn't be more pleased with the way it went. We had well over a hundred people in attendance -- even some out-of-towners, like rob mclennan, who loaded up a van and came down from Edmonton for the event. All the performers were excellent. We sold a decent amount of alcohol and a truly obscene amount of books. Ian Kinney bartended and wore a gold bow-tie. Tara and Ed manned the merch table. The space was great and everyone at Lunchbox Theatre was a complete dream to work with. It was also over too quickly.

Afterwards, Prof X, Tara, Ed, Shelley and I ended up at Singapore Sam's (look, I know. Soba 10 was closed.) for some late-night ginger beef. Prof. X and Ed got into a very involved conversation about poetry and programming. I wanted to listen more closely than I could, but around the periphery of my brain a cold grey creep was starting, exhaustion's fog closing in, and before 1am I was dead to the world with a pillow wrapped around my head while most of the attendees continued to drink at the Bear & Kilt.

I'm applying to PhD programs now. Calgary is my first choice, but not my only option. I might have to leave. The more events I do, the less I want to go, and the more I wonder if extravaganzas and blow-outs can really happen any place else.

Labels: Literary Events

filling Station Magazine and the Snaring the New West Tour are thrilled to announce:

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Labels: Literary Events

Calgary, Pages, and Everyone,

The Calgary launch of Thumbscrews may have been the best night of my life.

Thank you for coming. Thank you for laughing at the right parts and tittering at the best parts. Thank you for saying nice things to me, whether from behind a podium or behind a glass. Thank you for forgiving me when the reading ran short. Thank you for refilling my glass of white wine. Thank you for signing my book. Thank you for buying my book. Thank you for all coming out to celebrate with me. That you for your love and your positive energy and your genuine fucking happiness.

Thank you Pages or being as excited as I was. Thank you Christian for introducing me. Thank you everyone for taking all of my best-case-scenarios and blowing them out of the fucking water.

I can't properly express the amount of love I have for my city and my friends. Thank you.

This book's been launched proper. I'm off on the tour now; I hope the next month is even an either as fabulous as last night.

Labels: Celebrations, Literary Events, Thumbscrews

Wow. Proper post soon. Today, sleep and Gatorade.

Labels: Literary Events

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

is thrilled to announce...

The Third Annual

CALGARY BLOW-OUT!

Friday, September 14 – 7:00 PM

Saturday, September 15 – 1:00 PM

Saturday, September 15 – 7:00 PM

All Events at the Carpenter’s Union Hall

(310 10^th St NW)

FREE!

This explosive literary festival puts the spotlight on Calgary’s talented writing community, featuring over twenty poets, playwrights and fiction writers that are either locally-based, or who have strong ties to the city.

Friday night: September 14^th, 7pm

host: Natalie Simpson
readers: Emily Elder, Helen Hajnoczky, Mark Hopkins, Brea Burton, Shane Rhodes, Jani Krulc, Jaspreet Singh, Robert Majzels
music: The Lonely Hunters

Saturday afternoon: September 15^th 1pm
host: ryan fitzpatrick
readers: Ian Kinney, Ross Priddle, Kevin McPherson-Eckhoff, Chris Ewart, Weyman Chan
music: Heather Blush

Saturday night: September 15^th, 7pm
host: derek beaulieu
readers: Emily Carr, Bronwyn Haslam, Peter Norman, Laurie Fuhr, Aaron Giovannone, William Neil Scott, Sina Queyras
film: Garth Whelan

Of course, there’ll also be books, booze and the long-awaited launch of filling Station #39!

All events are absolutely FREE and open to the public. Join us in celebration of Calgary’s booming literary talent!

CONTACT:

Natalie Zina Walschots

Managing Editor, filling Station

403.283.7212

nzwalschots@gmail.com

calgaryblowout.blogspot.com

EVENT HISTORY

The Calgary Blow-Out! was founded in 2005 as a celebration of Calgary’s vibrant literary community. The former Managing Editor of filling Station, derek beaulieu, founded the event out of good-natured frustration when he realized there was simply too much happening in the Calgary literary scene to see it all, and so he created the Blow-Out! as a fête for the community at large. This is filling Station’s third annual Calgary Blow-Out!

ABOUT filling Station

filling Station is a literary magazine based in Calgary, Alberta, that is dedicated to showcasing innovative poetry, fiction, drama, film and visual art, and to promotion local and international arts communities. This year’s Calgary Blow-Out! will see the launch of filling Station’s 39^th issue.

Labels: Literary Events

Last night's Flywheel was excellent. I am used to attending events where one or two of the readers are new to me, especially if they're form out of town, since I am still relatively newish to the Calgary scene. Last night, though, three of the four local writers (Tom Muir, Emily Cargan, and Emily Elder) I'd never seen perform before. Emily Elder has just moved back into town and both Emily Cargan and Tom Muir have been hiding out since before I arrived in town. Sharanpal Ruprai, the only reader I'd been lucky enough to see perform before, read all new material as well.

What struck me about this particular reading was how different the styles of the four readers are. Tom's work was the most lyric, and his pieces tended to be longer. I found myself often listening more to the cadence of his voice, the sound of the words rather than their sense, the pattern that they made in his voice. Emily Cargan did something I haven't seen in a while: she actively played with point of view. Her pieces were all written in different voices, almost characters, which affected the way she wrote and performed the pieces. Emily Elder performed her pieces more than she read them, changing her voice as well as her body depending on the piece. She mixed up poetry and fiction as well, all under the guise of a (life?) long project called Working Thru the Minotaur. Sharanpal's work had the feel of a ceremony to it. She held all the words in her mouth carefully, as though they must be released just so and with proper reverence for her performance to work. Her pieces have the feel of little ceremonies too, all the smaller pieces coming together to make something.

If only I could work a mic properly. Damn my shortness.

Labels: Literary Events

It's been one hell of a week. I have been a little tipsy for most of it. There are orange tulips next to my desk and well-wishes stuck to my fridge with magnets. I actually ordered a pizza for the first time in months because cooking? wasn't going to happen. Soon, I am going to stop buzzing and smiling randomly. I am going to stop talking about it now, I swear.

* * *

The SNRG conducted research on a Japanese movie called The Great Yokai War last night. Best. Film. Ever. Newborn calves with human faces that foretell of doom then bleed out its eyes? An ambulatory wall? Squirrel creatures that bleed tang and take shelter in cleavage? Villain defeated by a legume and a pop song? This movie has it all. I have given nothing away. I think it might be the best bargain-bin $8 Jeremy ever spent.

Tonight is the April Flywheel; it's also the U of C's Gala Reading for all the creative writing students, and the Frontenac House launch. This was actually the best Thursday this month to do it. The line up is darn good (Josh Smith, Jill Hartman, Laurie Fuhr and Caleb Zimmerman), so maybe the attendance will surprise me. Either way, it is going to be a good'un. Come out if you can.

After a hiatus of almost a week, today I go back to selling cheese. My last day or work was Good Friday. I think it's been the most unproductive 6 days ever in the history of mankind. And yet.

I spent some time on campus in the last few days. Just cleaned out my mailbox, got some forms, had a short meeting. I met some friends and had a pint. I saw some fellow students I hadn't seen in months. My stomach didn't feel like I'd swallowed ball bearings. I remember why I went into academia in the first place, and I'm just starting, just the littlest bit, to miss it. By 2008, I think I just might want this. I'm starting to feel that I'll be ready.

Labels: Academia, Literary Events, Thumbscrews