Tricia's Blog - Page 7 of 24

Can You Help Me?

31 August, 2016/0 Comments/in SiWC /by Tricia

Asking for help is tough. I feel like I’ve spent the entire summer doing just that. It’s been humbling, demoralizing and filled with some valuable lessons learned.

One task I’ve had over the last few months was to garner some sponsors for the Surrey International Writers’ Conference. Once we won the matching grant from artsVest I thought the job would be easy. SiWC is a hugely successful and world renowned conference with so many sponsorship possibilities. I only needed to tell people about them and the money would follow.

Right?

No, I was wrong. Money didn’t just fall into our laps.

Luckily the artsVest grant included workshops on how to get sponsors.

One lesson came across loud and clear. Your best chance to raise funds for your organization was to mine all your “warm contacts.” Though it sounds simple I found this to be a tough one. In a nut shell, you have to ask all your friends for help. And if that doesn’t pan out, you have to ask all your friends to ask all their friends for help.

The workshop leader framed this in a much more positive and a not at all needy way, but it’s still asking people to help.

This is tough for me.

But, when you are competing with other arts groups, festivals, and conferences, asking for dollars can come down to who you know.

Isn’t that an all too familiar life lesson?

Last week I attended another artsVest workshop where we discussed a trend that seems to dominate our sponsorship quests.

We each had the chance to share our latest victory. For the majority this was not a group actually getting money, but it was a prospect returning a phone call or replying to an email.

Booking an actual meeting to discuss a sponsorship was considered a hallelujah moment!

The harsh reality of how tough it is to secure dollars was the common theme.

I got to share a couple of my best “warm contact” moments so far.

My financial advisor works at a huge company that only sponsors one major on-going event. When he received my email asking for help he and his colleague both made personal donations to SiWC. No, not a sponsorship per se, but it gave me hope. People were willing to step up.

I also happen to know one of the most connected people in the advertising world. I bit the bullet and wrote him an email, told him all about the conference and asked if he know anyone that might be interested. He was on a holiday in Europe but within 5 hours got back to me. He said he would put on his thinking cap. Again, no sponsorship dollars but I was heartened that he even replied. It gave me hope and reminded me what a great man he is.

This has become the norm. When you are accustomed to silence any type of reply becomes a victory.

And finally…

As cancer kicked my butt I let many things slide. Post-surgery I pulled myself together to submit an application to a great potential sponsor and discovered I had missed their deadline for submissions. My heart broke. This company seemed like one of our best chances and I screwed up. I swear I sat staring at their website for an hour wondering how I could have been so stupid. Then I opted to fill out the application, go through the process, knock even though the door was closed. I also sent them an email explaining that my lapse was the reason SiWC had missed the deadline. The blame was mine alone. The submission was made because I felt an obligation to at least go through the process. I fell on the cancer sword. I apologized.

The next day they sent me an email to say they would accept our submission. They also wished me the best with my health issues and recovery.

In those few words that huge company became a warm contact.

And all it took was for me to ask for help and a bit of forgiveness.

Now who’s next on my list?

Road Trip

24 August, 2016/2 Comments/in Reading /by Tricia

If you believe that getting your book published means a road to fame and stardom then stop reading this blog right now.

If you believe you can get published and compete with the likes of Tragically Hip, well you are insane.

I believe I’m the only Canadian that doesn’t enjoy the Hip. This simple fact means most people think I’m crazy and just plain wrong.

I also believe that Gord Downie loves writers so I guess we aren’t completely at odds.

I noticed all of this on a road trip with my writer friends this past weekend. Linda L Richards, Sam Wiebe, Dietrich Kalteis and Owen Laukkanen were scheduled to do an author event at the Kamloops Public Library. I went along for the ride. And why not? They are extremely entertaining people to hang out with.

(And yes, when you are still bandaged up you get to ride shotgun!)

To live in Vancouver and be surrounded by so many talented writers is a blessing. I love listening to them talk about their craft. It’s a skill I want to master so the opportunity is priceless. Luckily the writers I know are willing to lend advice and cheer on every effort.

Maybe the good people of Kamloops just weren’t aware of the opportunity.

Or maybe the chance to say goodbye to Gord ranked higher on their bucket list.

You see the timing of the two events didn’t actually overlap but the prep time to lug your cooler and folding chair to the Kamloops outdoor screening venue for that last concert didn’t allow for a visit to the library. People set their priorities.

For the small handful of folks that opted for the library and the chance to listen and chat with these writers… well they were treated to powerful stories and insight. They heard ideas about the creative process.

The joys, the rewards, the time, the dedication.

Linda, Sam, Dietrich and Owen spoke about being successful authors.

Not one of them mentioned the reality of driving four hours to speak to a few writing fans just to turn around and make the long trek home.

I believe Mr. Downie would have been very impressed.

I know I was.

Melanoma Strikes Back

17 August, 2016/2 Comments/in Uncategorized /by Tricia

Maybe I hadn’t done enough research? Maybe I was ignorant and in denial?

Or maybe it was Melanoma’s revenge?

Last week I was comical and said it would not get the best of me. I think the Big M was just having a day of sweet payback. It would not leave easily.

Yes, this is another blog about my Melanoma. Please note that I’m bringing it into the fold and being friendly with this disease now. “My Melanoma” Very lyrical… it almost sounds pleasant.

I thought I was prepared. Bought a pile of large bandages. (How ridiculous was that?) Cleared my clients for the day. All set for the little procedure. Even had a pleasant walk to the hospital to enjoy the perfect morning.

Then this lovely young doctor with a British accent told me what he planned to do. I wish I could have seen my face as he drew the lines on my leg where he would be making the three large incisions. To my credit I didn’t try to run away.

Maybe that’s because he started the conversation by reminding me that melanoma can kill.

The next hour was not pleasant. But afterwards, when your leg is still frozen, it’s easy to smile for the camera.

Since then I’m fully aware when it’s time to pop more pain killers. My leg starts talking to me. “The melanoma’s gone but I’m hurting here.”

This is how I’m going to look for the next two weeks. It’s hard to keep your leg elevated and type.

On the plus side…

I’m one of the lucky ones because my bandages are visible. People are kind when you look wounded. Out for my walk (limp) last night, passerby’s nodded and gave polite smiles. They might have been thinking, “Are you an idiot!” but I will opt to think that people are nice. Most see someone in distress and react well. We are all basically good.

Don’t get me wrong… I’m not really as positive as I seem. I had no idea I would end this journey with three big scars on my leg.

Life isn’t always fair.

But it did make me stop and enjoy the view.

The Melanoma Word

10 August, 2016/2 Comments/in Uncategorized /by Tricia

It’s pretty weird. Once you buy something, or think about something, it seems to be everywhere. Test-drive a red car and you see all the red cars on the road. Buy tartan Converse and everyone’s wearing them.

Get diagnosed with Melanoma and you start to hear the word in too many conversations.

I’m sure it’s just a fluky trick your mind gets to play.

I’ve heard some bad stories in the last month when people didn’t know about my predicament. It’s scary that many were, “His son died of melanoma.” “It was melanoma that killed her, they caught it too late.”

I don’t jump in and say, “Hey, I’ve got the disease and you’re not making me feel great.”

No, mostly I’m just listening.

Of course when I tell someone I have melanoma I always hear, “Oh, no biggie, I/my friend/that famous actor had it and everything was OK.”

However well meaning, it’s the typical response.

I’ve got my surgery booked and this time next week those cancerous cells will be gone.

The last two months have reminded me of 2007 when during a routine mammogram the doctor saw something and our amazing medical system took over. I was booked for surgery and had to wait about the same amount of time as for this cancer scare. During those weeks I ate tubs and tubs of ice cream in an effort to calm my fears. I got fat.

Funny how my weight and the sales at my local Dairy Queen have skyrocketed in the last few weeks. I am so predictable. Clearly I eat when I’m afraid.

Back in 2007 I also decided to say “Fuck You” to cancer. It wasn’t the best timing, in fact it was bad timing, but I was registered to run a half marathon four days after the surgery. Without telling the doctors or race director, I decided that no matter what, I would compete in the race. “Yeah cancer, you don’t get to be the boss of me!” I hauled my fat ass to the start line, checked to see that my stitches were firmly in place and walked those 21 kilometers. I came in last. My time sucked. But I finished. When my doctor found out he was pissed. The race director said he would have banned me.

Crossing the finish line made me stupidly happy.

“You are not the boss of me.”

So what will I do this time?

I don’t have a race to run.

But I do have a life to live.

Most likely I’ll just start to notice people that have ugly scars on their legs.

And that’s OK.

Faith

3 August, 2016/0 Comments/in Tibetan Buddhism /by Tricia

My goal this week is to write about nothing. The ridiculous concept we Tibetan Buddhists endlessly chase after.

The dilemma is, “nothing means nothing.”

What I learnt on Sunday is that faith in nothing is the answer.

And that’s the conundrum.

Luckily I had a very wise man attempt to explain this to me.

Luckily I have faith in him.

Luckily he explained it in a way that gave a glimmer of what the answer is.

Faith is a tough one. Trust follows a close second.

Six weeks ago my doctor said I had nothing to worry about. Four weeks ago he called back, said he was wrong and told me there’s a problem.

Two weeks ago I had a stable place to call home. Five days ago that concept evaporated.

Four days ago Lotsawa David Karma Choephel gave a teaching on impermanence and faith at the Thrangu Monastery.

I grasped his every word.

One of the rare times when you believe a message was designed for that perfect moment.

It gave me faith in this fickle world.

Lotsawa David is a translator for some of the highest teachers in the Tibetan Buddhist world. He’s also a longtime and learned practitioner with endless credentials. It’s obvious he has absorbed a great deal of wisdom along the way. He is a patient man. That helps when attempting to explain the dharma to someone like me.

The Buddhist teachings on emptiness really makes no sense when you put a western twist on the concept. The hard part is to put aside your habitual way of thinking and trust there is something more. A great teacher can be the impetus to dig through your habitual crap. Luckily I live in a time and place where I’m surrounded by people to help with the journey.

Faith is something we believe in but can’t prove. The concept is impossible. How do you carry on when your faith has been shaken? You can’t always dodge the facts.

Life is easier if you have faith in impermanence. Trust that everything is going to change.

Everything.

I carry on with knowing I don’t know. This serves me well.

It leaves me with faith in nothing… and this means I have hope.

With Malice

27 July, 2016/0 Comments/in Blog, Death, Reading /by Tricia

Wherever your summer holidays find you, take along Eileen Cook’s WITH MALICE and I can guarantee you a journey you will never forget.

This is one of my favourite books of the year, but the title rated number one. “WITH MALICE” I love when an uncommon word jumps into my sphere. I’m left wondering how I can sprinkle it into my daily conversations.

If I was a book reviewer, my headline for WITH MALICE would be “Denial, Escape and Awe.”

Denial… because for me, that is a theme of WITH MALICE. Everyone seemed to be in denial of what the characters’ true intentions could be.

On a personal level, there’s denial because this summer I’m not taking a holiday break. There will be no downtime. This means my reading will be grabbed between clients, various projects and fast approaching deadlines. I’m in denial of how important taking time off is for one’s well-being.

Luckily at the end of a packed day, I was carried along by the rush of friends from the Surrey International Writers’ Conference and attended Eileen’s book launch. Even though the book sold out I was fortunate to grab a copy. There was no denial that this was being in the right place at the right time.

Escape… because I haven’t had this type of pure escapism with a book for a long time. Eileen tells a story about a girl and her friend and what might be a murder. She makes it all so believable and so very unbelievable. In today’s world you can imagine this happening but so want it not to be true. It reminds me of that saying, “Expect the unexpected.” With my life, having a few hours to lose myself in a great story is as good as any holiday. Well almost… sleeping in then opting to start drinking at noon and then reading the great book would be a perfect escape.

But what about escaping murder?

Awe… because this book will become a classic. It is crafted so well I can imagine workshops in the future being based on the way it’s written. If you’re a writer and want to see how it’s done well, race to your local bookstore, pick up a copy, and start to read it now. The hours you spend devouring WITH MALICE will be a masterclass.

At Eileen’s book launch she talked about how she wrote the book. She’s an engaging speaker and her humble humour is deceiving. Luckily she will be speaking again at the Chapter Indigo in North Van on August 6. Go. I guarantee you will be inspired.

With malice means evil intent.

WITH MALICE means summertime reading has finally arrived.

Sleep and Water

20 July, 2016/0 Comments/in Blog, Happy /by Tricia

There are only two things your body needs on a daily basis.

Everything else we can do without for days and even weeks.

But you must have water and sleep. No that’s wrong. You must have sleep and some sort of liquid. You won’t last long without them. You will die.

And even if you don’t die because of dehydration or sleep deprivation, you will die because going without will make you stupid and then you will do something that will kill you.

Today, that’s my message.

Now I could be telling you this because I have just been through a week of birthday celebrations and have barely squeezed by with enough of the essentials.

And I hate to be a hypocrite. I blabber on and on to my clients about water and sleep. I’d be a fool not to listen to my own advice.

But I’m human… and I’ve been in celebration mode.

So as I got back from eating my last “birthday” blizzard, served up by one of my favourite caristas (that is someone that makes great ice cream treats… and yes, I just made up the word.)

I reflected on two things….

One. I need to get more sleep and drink tons more water every day.

Two. If I wrote a health and wellness book it would only have these 8 words on each page…

OK, there is a number three. This birthday has been fun and endless.

Yes, we all need sleep and water but…

Now I have enough whisky to last until I finish the first draft of my next book.

I never knew how beautiful red roses could be.

And I’ve been reminded that great friends are priceless.

My only wish would be that one of the lottery tickets that those friends gave me had been the winner.

60 Years Old

13 July, 2016/4 Comments/in Blog, Happy /by Tricia

“Soon I’ll be 60 years old …”

That’s a line in the song I’ve been listening to lately.

I started this blog three years ago and commented on the merits and drawbacks of turning 55. Nothing could foretell I would be here again, on my birthday, writing another week’s blog.

And before you jump in with comments about me not looking my age, let’s just agree that this is what a 58 year old looks like.

I can prove it with my driver’s license (which if you saw it makes me look like a 68 year old convict.)

I believe people can’t guess my age because of my immature actions and style.

But I digress.

Or maybe not.

Back to the song.

It’s Lukas Graham’s 7 YEARS (you can watch it here)

My favourite line is, “I made a man so happy when I wrote a letter once.”

I don’t know who Lukas was thinking about but I love the way he throws the line in and then moves on.

Have you ever done this, written a letter just to make someone happy? And the trick is; the letter doesn’t have to be to that person. It could be written on their behalf. It could right a wrong. It could change a mind. Or maybe make up a mind.

Here’s an idea… if you want to do something for me to celebrate my birthday, write a letter to make someone happy. I don’t mean write a letter to me, though that would be nice. Write one to make someone else happy.

It’s simple to do. I am confident you will do it well.

All this talk has made me think about my most popular blogs. They are always the ones that tell someone else’s story.

Sometimes the story will make you cry.

I hope most of them make someone happy.

In the end that’s all that matters because…

“Soon I’ll be 60 years old.”

Ian and Sam

6 July, 2016/2 Comments/in Blog, Uncategorized /by Tricia

It’s all so personal. What we like, what we hate.

I love reading crime fiction.

I love short sentences.

I love reading about places I love.

I love when a few words say everything.

Last week I read a book with some of the best sentences I’ve ever read. Last week I read INVISIBLE DEAD by Sam Wiebe.

Sam has become one of my favourite writers. His first book, LAST OF THE INDEPENDANTS, made me an instant fan. He sets his stories in Vancouver. His characters feel real. I can see them walking these streets. Sam covers local issues. He makes them huge but intimate. I want to know his characters. I want to drink with them, hang out with them. I mean the good guys, not the killers.

I’ll read both books again. Even if just to enjoy those sentences.

Sam is our Ian Rankin. Ian introduced the world to the real Edinburgh. Sam will do the same for Vancouver. Drayton and Wakeland are our Rebus.

It may take a few books. But I’m counting on Sam to do it.

Oddly enough, Sam is also a big Rankin fan.

So here’s the rub.

Sam might be moving away. This doesn’t work into my grand scheme. Sam needs to be here and writing about my home.

He knows I’m not happy. But he doesn’t know he should just give up now.

Sam says he can write about Vancouver from Montreal.

No.

I have a few months to petition Sam to stay.

My default position is to cover my ears and say “I can’t hear you la la la” when Sam mentions his future. So far this hasn’t made a dent in his plans.

Plan B is to start a hashtag campaign.

I ran the wording past Owen Laukkanen. He knows Sam. Owen also writes crime fiction. He agreed with my choice for the tag but I think he was only humouring me.

This isn’t just about me and my wants. Once you read one of Sam’s books you will be on board. Trust me. You will want Sam to stay. You will beg Sam to write about Vancouver again.

You will want to wear one of the pins.

Now if only I can get Ian Rankin to jump on the bandwagon.

Could you help us out @Beathhigh?

#SamStays

A Spike and A Naked Woman

29 June, 2016/0 Comments/in Uncategorized /by Tricia

My Sunday morning was going to include a walk along the old railway tracks in search of some history. A souvenir. I wanted a spike. Loose ones were hard to find so I was prepared for a long trek. The land that makes up the Arbutus Corridor had been sold and the railway was being removed.

My quest would start where I’ve walked for years. The short distance between 33rd^th and 37th in Kerrisdale. The route follows alongside Quilchena Cresent’s back alley. It’s secluded and offers some amazing views.

I didn’t expect to find a naked woman sprawled across the tracks and a photographer perched above her. He took a shot then looked my way. I hurried past and told her not to get arrested. She shrugged. Of course I angled my phone to capture a picture as I walked away.

Then just around the bend I spotted a huge yellow excavator. The dismantling had begun.

History was being unmade.

Kerrisdale is my home and the only reason it exists was the train stop at 41st. In 1905, the Railway manager, R.H. Sterling, asked Mrs. William McKinnon to name the station. She was from Kerrysdale near Gairloch, Scotland and suggested “Kerry’s Dale”, which quickly became Kerrisdale. I love that my home is named after a place in the Scottish Highlands. It makes me smile.

Remnants of the station still remain at the original intersection.

Years ago, someone hung a bundle of white Christmas lights on top of one of the power poles between the alley and the track. When you’re very young and out for an evening adventure the glow was magical. We always said that fairies played there and the lights were their home. Years later I found out Kerrydale means “little seat of the fairies.”

No wonder I wanted to steal a piece of this place. And I wanted to find a spike close to where the fairies lived. I still believe in the magic.

The rest of my day was spent watching the rails being pulled off the ties. The contraption underneath the excavator forced the rails up and pried the spikes free. Every few feet massive nuts had to be unscrewed and sometimes even the sledgehammer came into play. The process was much quicker than you would expect.

To stand near the tracks and be so close to the process was exhilarating. The sound. The vibration. The destruction. Here’s a little taste of what would happen…

[embedvideo type=”youtube” id=”J-_g_jP3ius”]

A few hours later and they were done.

I’m not good with change so this morning’s walk along the same route made me sad.

All the ties had been removed and the rail remnants hauled away. The nostalgia was gone. I can already imagine the walkers and bikes and noise.

Everyone will love this path… but the fairies will not be seen again.

Maybe their spirit will live in this rusty old spike?

Special thanks to Corey and Curtis for indulging me as they worked.

And as for that naked woman… did you really have to do this?