Return to Leave Again

Home –> Tram. Bus. Tram. Shuttle. Plane. Taxi. Bus. Bus (eight hours). Walking. Taxi. Plane. Shuttle. Tram. Bus. Tram. Home.

There was more to Belfast than the travel.

It’s a lovely city. Loads of hotels, places to eat, museums and tours. And I don’t think I’ve ever come across a nicer, more polite, generous people. Really, every single person we spoke to was surpassingly nice.

We did the open top bus tour (the open top was full, so we were downstairs). While it was interesting, it was also very warm, and the guide’s voice was monotone. I kept drifting off to sleep…

But when I was awake, I saw the many murals that cover the city. Each details some aspect of the ‘troubles’ they have there (the word everyone used was ‘troubles’ which seems quite tame when considering what’s actually happened there). I took several pictures, and put a few on FB. S nearly had a heart attack when she saw them, and I took them off right away. In my mind, I was sharing what I was seeing while traveling. But she reminded me we have many Irish friends who might be extremely offended by those murals. If you are one of those Irish friends, and I insulted you, I’m really sorry. I find it fascinating as an outsider, but realize now that you may have utterly different feelings on the matter…

Onward.

We took an all day bus tour as well. I’ve wanted to see the Giant’s Causeway pretty much all my life, and it’s a definite bucket list thing. That was the last stop on a great day of castles, ocean scenery, the Bushmill’s Whisky factory and the amazing rope bridge at Carrick-A-Rede. I wasn’t sure if S would make it across, as she gets vertigo, but she grabbed hold of the ropes and set off, on a mission. If any old ladies or children had been in her way, she probably would have just gone right over them.

When my turn came I have to admit I got a bit waffly in my tummy. There’s a hundred foot drop below you, and the thing bounces like crazy. But it was well worth it. The views from the other side were really beautiful.

The Giant’s Causeway was just as surreal and exquisite as I had hoped it would be. To think something so exact was created through the chaos of a volcanic eruption. The weather was beautiful and as crowds go, it was pretty empty. (We managed to get lots of pics with no one in the background, which is probably impossible in high season).

The conference went really well. I realized after I could probably add a bit of bookish stuff to it to make it sound a bit more academic, but there was some really good conversation after, and I met some really nice people.

S and I finished off the night at a great place called McCracken’s, which we found down a little side alley. The service was good, the music lovely, the food perfect.

So, that was the last four days. The weather was extremely cold, but blue skies stayed with us. (I had on three layers under a thick sweater covered by a ski jacket. That kind of cold).

Today, I’ve put together the PowerPoint for the conference I’m presenting at in London on Thursday. Tomorrow I’ve got a business meeting in the morning and physio in the afternoon. Tues is my business course all day and theater in the evening (Pygmalion). Weds is my PhD course, all day. Thursday is the conference in London. Friday is the conference in Cambridge.

My question for you, readers:

Have you been somewhere where you felt like a true outsider, and didn’t really understand the undercurrents native to the culture? How did you deal with it?

Song: Take it off by Kesha

Book: Writing without teachers by Peter Elbow

Giant’s Causeway

Giant’s Causeway

Giant’s Causeway

Dunluce Castle

Carrick-A-Rede rope bridge

Looking down from Carrick-A-Rede

School teacher’s house built into the hillside caves

School House built into the hill side

Titanic Exhibition Center

The Crooked Clock Tower

 

 

 

 

 

Do Not Go Quietly

So, 2012: 

1. I began my PhD journey at Nottingham Trent Uni.
2. Travelled to California for the Bold Strokes Book Fest. Shopped.
3. States of Independence publishing conference. LGBT panel with Andrea Bramhall,  Rebecca Buck and Kev Troughton.
4. 3rd Annual BSB UK book festival. Eleven authors attend.
5. The London Olympics 2012. I was there. 
6. I made contact with the paternal side of the family after nearly thirty years.
7. Redundancy
8. Florida. Mom. Kayaking with dolphins. Harry Potter land.
9. The house falls apart. Washing machine floods kitchen. Toilet tanks splits in half.
10. Teaching workshops on writing.
11. New business opportunities land in my lap.
12. Meet England Foootball manager Hope Powell.
13. Work with 300 teenagers over three days. Rewarding.

And in 2013, so far:

1. PhD project approval. Novel work begins in earnest.
2. Teaching writing workshops. 
3. The Nottingham Festival of Words. LGBT Panel discussion and reading.
4. States of Independence?
5. Business funding?
6. 10th short story comes out.
7. Conference in Belfast: Mapping Feminist Movements.
8. 4th Annual Bold Strokes Book Festival, UK.
9. Conference in Nottingham: The F Word in Contemporary Literature
10. Travel to the US. Not sure where yet.
11. Editing. Writing. Reading. Editing. Writing. Reading.
12. Dec: 1st draft of novel finished.

Thank you. For reading, for coming along on my journey. A writer writes to be read, and without you, I would be less.

Happy New Year. Do you have plans for 2013 yet? 

Book: The Gift of Death by J. Derrida

Song: Hijo de la Luna by Mecano

Shoelaces of Poo

So, eighteen months ago, S and I decided to meet up with my Mom in Florida.

There were two reasons for this: 1. My mom lives in a tiny city in the deep south, and our two previous visits were enough to tell us S might not live through another. 2. We’ve never done Florida together, and I’ve never done that side of Disney.

Eighteen months later:

We arrived at the airport nice and early, as we always do when flying internationally. Checked in, we wandered as airport people do. And then it began. The first announcement of several to come about the plane having a broken wing, which they were trying to repair. Eight boredom crushing hours later, they cancelled the flight. They put us up in a hotel in Manchester and paid for dinner, both of which were very nice, but not exactly on the itinerary.

So after a 24 hour delay: on the plane, on the runway, the pilot says the plane is ‘unbalanced’ so they’re transferring fuel to the other side to even things out. Finally, into the air. In Atlanta, our layover, we run, literally, through the airport to reach our next flight, which is already boarding. We get on, but the upgrade we paid for has a glitch, so we’re not sitting together. No problem, it’s only an hour flight. At the airport in Orlando, we wait with growing agitation for our luggage. Which isn’t there.

It’s on the next flight, though, so we can wait the two hours for it to come in. Which we do, with a meal voucher from them.

A few beers later, we get our luggage. And that night, I’m lying on the bathroom floor vomiting out both ends. Not a good start. (For either of us. I’m not a quiet sick person. People on Thunder Mountain probably heard me. No sleep for S.)

In Orlando: it rains. Everyday, from about ten in the morning till late evening. We wear thick plastic ponchos. Have you done this? In the humidity and rain, you feel like you’re in a sweat locker. Mom comes in, we have a nice time for three days, wandering about, shopping and eating and talking and getting our nails done.

We take mom to the airport. I tell S I think I have a sore throat.

And then I get the plague from hell. Snotting, coughing, sneezing, fever, the whole batch of mucous based crap for the next five days. But we’ve moved from Orlando to Indian Shores, just south of Clearwater. Our condo sits above the Intracoastal Waterway, and every morning we watch dolphins swim past over morning coffee. The beach is right across the street, and I attempt to bake the plague from my chest. A long time writer friend drives five hours to spend time with us, and we drink coffee, chat, dine and laugh. She reminds me how good the internet is for finding people who infect your life with good stuff.

By Thurs, the plague has lifted and we start enjoying ourselves. (S got a touch of it too, so felt a bit crap. Not as crap as me, obviously). We kayak down the Intracoastal, chase dolphins, see an amazing array of birds, and generally soak up the beauty around us. We drive down and surprise a BSB author doing a reading in Tampa and spend the night chatting and laughing in a very cool lgbt space called The L Train.

On Friday, we pack up and head home.

There were some really great moments on the trip–Harry Potter at Universal was amazing, Despicable Me and Star Tours, great food and music at the House of Blues, spending time with mom, Arden, Lee and Lainie. Talking on the phone to my dad and step mother for the first time in nearly thirty years. All fantastic.

Those were the big bits between the shoe laces of poo tying it all together. We won’t be returning to Florida anytime soon. But we did get a lot of great pics (at the bottom of this blog) if you’re interested. Because everyone wants to look at other people’s vacation photos…

Now: back to it. Editing my ass off, working on my PhD work, (I start an actual class next week), and generally keeping busy. It’s so, so good to be home.

Song: Don’t by Billy Currington

Book: Writing without Teachers by Peter Elbow

Blog: Lee Lynch. Iconic writer in the lesbian community and all around great person.

the cat at Mahuffer’s Bar

Hanging at Mahuffers

Decorated coffin at Mahuffers

Indian Shores Coffee House, or ‘the coffee place’.

Dolphin fin from the kayak

They fished together every morning. Well, the fisherman fished, and gave the heron its breakfast.

a lovely offering on my towel when I came back with lunch

chasing dolphins

protecting her nest as we passed

and letting us know she was watching us

that bird is pink, with a crazy shaped bill

pterodactyl

sorry?

John’s Pass

since they’re the size of dinosaurs, a good idea

watching eachother

working hard…

S in a hurricane simulator

from a rooftop bar in St Petersburg

he let me get really close

well deserved

Calm down. It’s just your destiny.

1: 

I am sensitive. Yes, sometimes overly so. I cry at adverts, I cry at cartoons, I cry when I brush my teeth. But not much pisses me off. Really, if I were any more laid back I’d be in a coma.

There is one thing that irks me like nothing else, however:

Someone telling me to “calm down”, particularly when I’m happy or excited about something. There’s just something so patronizing about it. It’s like they’re telling you they know how you should be acting, that you’re acting inappropriately, that you’re a child.

Really, it makes me want to punch them in the face.

How’s that for calm?

There’s just something about being spoken down to that twists my knickers into knots. Not comfortable, I assure you.

2: 

Do you believe in destiny? Do you think there’s a master plan for you that you’re always working toward, even if you don’t know it?

Or are you just haphazardly flapping your way through life, pooping mid-air and emergency landing whenever you start to get sucked into a propeller?

If you do think you have a destiny, do you ever get to know what it is? Or do you make it happen and then kick the bucket, possibly without ever having a clue? Do some people have destinies but not others? Is there a destiny hierarchy? Are some people destined for greatness and others destined for…well, not greatness?

I watched a lovely movie recently, where the female main character was destined to be the change her clan needed to survive. Of course, she finds out and strives to overcome, etc.

I think we all hope for greatness. We all have dreams of being the best ever at something, where folks know our name and tell anecdotal stories about us for centuries to come. But how many people on the planet have that happen?

Your thoughts?

Song: The Other Side of the Kiss by Mindy McCready

Book: On Becoming a Fairy Godmother by Maitland

Blog: Always Off Topic

The Winds of Change Blowing Up My Skirt

I’m not really sure what to say. 

My emotions, my mind, my memories are all ajumble.

I’m doubting memories long held as fact, I’m developing new curiosities.

I’m afraid.

And I’m elated.

I’m releasing old hurts and hoping for new futures, even as I wonder if I may be rejected.

Is it okay to let yourself hope? Is it okay to let the past go and open yourself up?

Only a few years ago I would have said no. No, it’s not okay, it’s foolish, it’s irresponsible.

But it’s not a few years ago. It’s today. And tomorrow. And whatever years I have left.

And the person I become, and the company I keep, are mine to choose.

If I’m brave enough.

Wish me luck.

Book: The Locket and the Flintlock by Rebecca S Buck

Song: I’m Coming Home by Daughtry.

Blog: A Stranger in this Place by Wendi Kali

Other Pics of the BSB Fest in Palm Springs

In case you were looking, here are a few more places you can find pics of the Bold Strokes festival in Palm Springs, 2012.

Carsen Tait’s album.

Ruth Sternglantz’s album.

Joannie Bassler’s album

Kim Baldwin’s album.

Yolanda Wallace’s album.

LT Marie’s album.

There are probably more, but here are a few, at least. Enjoy.

 

 

How About You?

What are your travel plans this year? 

Where are you going? Are you going to do anything fun, going anywhere interesting, got anything planned? Got anything we can do too?

Here’s mine so far:

Feb/March: Bold Strokes Book Festival, Palm Springs, CA. Four days of LGBTQ authors reading, chatting, laughing poolside at Casita Laquita, women’s resort. (Open to men during the day for the festival). Followed by a week in the sun doing nothing.

March 17th: States of Independence. Myself, Rebecca S Buck, Kevin Troughton and Andrea Bramhall will be representing Bold Strokes Books and doing a quick panel on LGBTQ literature today at DeMontfort University. And we’ll have lots of books for sale too!

June: A train trip to Edinburgh for my birthday!

June/July: I’ll be running a series of workshops on editing at the Nottingham Writer’s Studio. Every Weds night for six weeks we’ll be going over various style elements to make your manuscript stronger and weed out the weaknesses.

July: A week in the sun in Spain with the family.

August 4-5: Bold Strokes Books Author Festival in Nottingham. We’ve got at least two authors from the US coming over, possibly an editor, and lots of other returning and new UK authors. We’ll have the meet and greet on Saturday night, and the author luncheon on Sunday. It’s going to be an amazing weekend of lgbt fiction. I really, really hope you’ll join us.

September: Florida to see my mom, and Mickey. And some time laying on a beach doing nothing.

And of course, in between all these events, I’ve got my editing, writing, and PhD work to do. And there are three anthologies coming out with my writing in them.

It’s going to be a kick ass year.

How about you? What have you got planned? Where are you going? What are you doing?

Song: I Like It by Enrique Iglesias

Book: Helen of Troy by Margaret George

Word Versatility and Chain Mail Awards

So, I was recently nominated for the Versatile Blogger Award!

The Rules:

Rule 1. Add a picture of the award.

2.Thank your nominator

I want to begin by first thanking fellow blogger Ben at Story Multiverse  for nominating me! It is much appreciated and made me all excited and happy and such, though it seems somewhat chain mail-ish in nature. I’ll still gladly accept.

My blog started out with vague posts and only occasional items of usefulness. Now I try to post regularly, both about my personal journey as a multiple minority, and as someone in the writing profession. I love the interconnectedness and the ability to learn, learn, learn.

2. Choose 10 other deserving bloggers and inform them.

As a part of the award, I am supposed to choose 10 other blogs that I believe are versatile and although there are a billion blogs out there, I have to narrow it down to ten, as well as provide you with the links to these words of excellence. Once you’re nominated, you’re then on the list to do it too.

So here are some of my favourites (though I’ve left out any that haven’t blogged in a while, and if I took the time to name all my favourites I’d never get anything done. Not that I do anyway). :

A Stranger in This Place: Wendy’s blogs are sincere, sometimes funny, but always heartfelt.

Buzz Cuts and Bustiers: a blog about butch femme stuff, along with some great anecdotes and advice.

Yards of Words: Arden writes only as she can–from the heart, sometimes whimsical, sometimes deep, but always interesting and in free-form style.

Bold Strokes Books, Author blog: The authors from this amazing lgbt publishing house blog on a range of topics, from writing to their books to random life-type things.

Lesbian Dad: a wonderful blog dedicated to the act of lesbian parenting.

Susan Writes Precise: A blog with great writing, and often about writing.

Embrace and Evocative: really beautiful poetry.

Rebecca S Buck: A wonderful author and friend, she’s a fascinating read.

Random Ntrygg: Nothing light hearted here. A blog often to do with politics and religion, and bound to make you think.

Random Ruminations on a Mad World: a humorous, versatile blog about trans issues, sex stuff, writing, and ukulele playing.

And one extra:

Silly Wrong but Vivid Right: Heart felt blogging about being a single-ish girl in Manchester.

Rule 3: Share 7 random facts about yourself

1. I’m supposed to be left handed. But when learning to write, my teacher said left-handed people were from the devil. So now I’m ambidextrous.

2. I have an extra tube on one of my kidneys.

3. Both of my Achilles tendons are shorter than they should be, leading to lots of twisted ankles and the need to wear high tops, regardless of fashion.

4. The smell of any kind of sea food makes me gag.

5. I’m allergic to eggs.

6. I love listening to Latin and Greek pop music. In Spanish or Greek.

7. I am a cusp baby–neither/both Cancer/Gemini.

 

2012: Make it Count

What else is there to say?

Without sounding cliché, I mean. Losing weight, exercising more, etc etc.

I did my rumination about 2011 in a prior blog, so today, on the last day of the year, I’m not really sure what to say.

So…

I’ll mention a few things coming up next year:

I’ve got eight weeks until we go to California for the BSB Book Festival in Palm Springs. I’m greatly looking forward to that. (Sunshine and shopping. These are two of my favorite things…)

I officially start my PhD program on January 9th. At which time I also have several manuscripts due to the publishing house, and which my authors continue to wait for.

The 3rd annual UK Bold Strokes Author Festival will be in August. I really, really hope you’ll come.

In September we’re venturing to the land of pensioners and imaginary friends, when we head to Florida to do Disney (my first time at the Floridian version) and to hang out with my mom for a week.

We’re hoping to get somewhere in Europe at some point in there too.

It sounds like a really simple, straight forward year. I have a feeling it wont turn out that way…

How wonderful to have a vague plan, but still allow for the impetuosity of life to mix things up?

Start as you mean to continue is the saying…and so we’re bringing in the new year at home, quietly relaxing and enjoying one another’s company. Nike’s new campaign is #make it count: you never know who is watching. And you know what?

I’m going to make it count. Every edit, every word, every action. Do it with me. Together, we’ll all make it count, everyday.

Most excellent.

Happy New Year, dear readers. Here’s to another great year of writing, reading, learning and friendship ahead.

Book: me@you.com by KE Payne

Song: Take it off by Ke$ha

Percolating on Winter Wonderings

I am a percolator.

Image via Wikipedia

I percolate.

It’s something I’ve realized in the last few weeks. That one of the ways I work best is to start with a solid idea, and then do nothing about it for a while.

Because it simmers, percolating in my brain, sorting out issues and developing all it’s little fingers and toes in gentle, subconscious waves. It forms, reforms and brings up any questions I need to deal with on a conscious level.

The brain is an amazing percolator.

Since coming up with a few different writing projects, they’ve developed and taken shape, and I know that after the family Christmas festivities have passed, I’ll be able to sit down and put them on paper. And that’s a good feeling indeed.

Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the lunar year, just passed. I lit candles and sat in front of my calendar contemplating the year behind me and some of the ideas and goals I’d like to meet the light of spring with. I considered all the wonderful things that have happened throughout 2011 and said thanks for the growth I’ve experienced.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and though I celebrate with  no religious connotations at all, I am looking forward to the chaos that comes with S’s family, full of food, beer, chocolate, presents, beer, and football.

Followed by going to an actual Manchester United game at the one and only Old Trafford on Boxing Day. I’ll take lots of pics, though our seats are up in the gods.

I’m going to leave it at that for now. I’ve got lots I want to say about writing. I’ve got lots I want to say about politics. But for the moment, I’ll leave you with this:

I’m so glad you’re here. I’m grateful you take the time to read, to reply, to join in this amazing blogosphere conversation.

Thank you, dear readers. A writer lives to be read, and a blogger gets to turn that writing into a conversation. What better?

Happy winter holidays to every single one of you. I hope everyone is safe, happy, and gets exactly the prezzies they were hoping for.

Love and light from the lesbian ponderer.