Montreal lit

Leave a comment Posted on Memoirs, Montreal lit, Personal, Storytelling, Writing

Happy? new year

I expect everyone has heard about the latest news from Zuck and Meta, which sounded to me like another nail in the coffin of my time on facebook. For quite a while now, existing there has felt wrong and gross for reasons relating to the relentless reinforcement of ideas belonging to capitalism, heteronormativity, and neuromajority. I’m not aligned with any of those things, and I have become increasingly resentful of the fact that local events and community groups are just easier on that platform.

So I updated my privacy settings, deleted the app from my iPad (it has already been absent from my phone for at least a year), and looked into how to batch delete older posts. No longer possible. Not even with a browser extension. Almost like they’d prefer I just shut my profile down; and believe me, I will once I find a suitable alternative for those community features. Maybe something like blogs and newsletters?

I pay real money to have this underused space, and over the years my silences have come from a lack of working on something, but I have been working hard. Just haven’t been in the habit of coming here to write about it. Thanks, Zuck, for inspiring me to come to a corner of the internet that isn’t riddled with ads pushing crypto, or the best marketing strategies, or some miracle cure that will make my life easy and endlessly joyous.

What have I been up to, then?

In November, I told a story for Confabulation: The Song That Saved My Life at La Sala Rossa. This collaboration with the Volume Knob has become an annual tradition, and in this third edition I was privileged to share the story of receiving my divorce judgement in the mail, living in my first home after marriage, and coming to terms with the end of that relationship. As I started working on it, I also began outlining a memoir of the years right after my divorce in an attempt to answer the question, “What am I doing here?”

Apart from the memoir, I am working on smutty stories and perhaps a longer work, which has taken back-burner status relative to the memoir. I have a domain name registered to house these erotic fictions, and I mean to come here with an update before too long. I am also doing story coaching as a member of the Confabulation team, and I will be telling a story at the Blue Metropolis literary festival in April.

And for earning a living, because we still live in capitalism after all, I am working as a massage therapist. I don’t know how I got to Year 3 of this job so quickly, but it is my favourite thing. I work for myself, I deliver a service directly to my clients for which I am paid, and I value and respect my clients. When I am sick, I call them to reschedule, and I rest. When I make a scheduling error, I can offer them extra time or a discount without having to check with some tightass manager scrutinizing my every decision.

It also gives me ample time to work on my writing, which is what I love the most.

Leave a comment Posted on Canadian lit, Montreal lit, Queer lit, Reviews, Writing

Carousel

April Ford carries the reader confidently through the streets of Montreal and the chaos of La Ronde in her debut novel Carousel. She introduces us to fascinating characters who cannot see themselves the way others see them, and takes us on a breathtaking ride through the life of a woman falling apart so that she can put herself back together, stronger and with more purpose.

carousel

No, I still haven’t repaired/replaced my camera.

I have never encountered a character quite like Margot. I loved her voice, her reliance on structure to keep herself on track, and her stiff refusal to properly stop and look at herself. I was charmed by this woman who was so sure of who she was because she never stopped to ask herself the question. I wanted to reach and tell her it would be okay, because I understood just how terrified she was of self reflection.

I have a habit of falling in love with characters who are a little hard-bitten, sarcastic, and make their ways through life in defiance of the bullshit they’ve had to endure. Plucky, you might say. They give me hope that we can soldier on in the face of uncertain futures, and make the kinds of decisions we can live with. Worst case, we go down as nothing less than our unapologetic and authentic selves!

And of course I knew there would be no book if the main character did not step off the cliff of her stable life into the gasping abyss of the unknown. She’s given a little push in the form of couple’s counseling (can’t relate), which her wife initiates, and soon Margot is caught in a dizzying whirl.

The book revolves around the titular carousel (not a merry-go-round, you will be educated), a feature at the amusement park La Ronde. I’ve been once with my mother and sister, who were visiting. Not knowing anything about the park, we rode the Vampire first, and I spent the next two hours wishing the world would stop turning so violently. If I saw le Galopant then, I was in no state to appreciate it, and I’m honestly too concerned about rising covid numbers to feel safe going now. But hoo boy do I really want to go out and have a proper look after finishing Carousel.

Inanna Publications, an independent feminist press in Canada, is holding a summer sale until August 30 (use promo code summer20)! Carousel is also this year’s recipient of the International Book Award for LGBTQ fiction! And with a worldwide pandemic having a pronounced effect on independent press, it is more important than ever to show your support for local authors by purchasing their work. I could not put this book down, and the ending made me cry, which is exactly what I want from a story.