Third Draft

sunny, calm, warm - perfect day - temps 28

A really lovely day....hardly a whisper of wind...not too hot. Not humid. One of those really magical days.

I spent it inside - writing. Or editing, I guess.

Started the third draft today. The plan (it should really be in quotation marks) was to get at the laptop by 8am, do fifty pages, and be finished early afternoon.

But then I had a brainwave. I'd do something I'd never done before. I'd work on the very last chapter first. I'd ben worried that in the two previous drafts I'd rushed it - been just way too tired by the time I reached the end and I wasn't happy with it. the second draft was way closer to what I wanted, but I knew I could do better. so I spend quite a bit of last week quietly pondering it. It's a funny process of not thinking about it, but trying to open my find and hope inspiration drops in. And a few ideas did.

In some cases it was a turn of phrase, in others it was a structural issue. Some stuff I wanted to play with...suppose I did this first, and moved that over there, and placed such-and-such here...God bless laptops, where I can play like that - move things about - and see.

So today, at 8am, I got started. Just the final chapter. And I finished at 5pm. Quite tired....and quite certain I am considerably closer. Might even be there....might have nailed it....but between us, I'm just too close to it now to know. so tomorrow I'll go to the beginning of the book and move forward - as I normally do.

By the time I reach the end again - at the end of the week I hope - I'll know if it works.

but I honestly don't feel stressed anymore. I know I'll get it, if I haven't already. That it's either there, or close.

Lovely day with no interruptions. Saw no one. Perfect writing day. ended with a barbequed steak and corn on the cob - sitting on the porch this peaceful evening.

tomorrow my brother Doug and his son Charlie arrive, along with....Buttercup!!! The hound from Hell. We only call her that because for many years she was totally unmanageable. Uncontrollable. the only consolation was that there wasn't a mean bone in her body, or her ferociously wagging tail. She simply had a surfeit of joy - and an ability to digest entire living room sets, then poop them out in the field. Fascinating to walk Buttercup. It's a sort of disgusting magic act.

They're arriving from Toronto tomorrow. am hoping to edit in the mornings and play with them in the afternoons. Weather's supposed to be very nice. Uncle Michael is really looking forward to it....besides the fact he loves them, we also all go out for soft ice cream in Sutton....and to watch Uncle Michael eat ice cream is something never to be forgotten. I'll try to take a photo - it too is a sort of disgusting magic act, where slowly, over the course of about 15 minutes, he morphs into a huge ice cream cone himself.

Talk to you soon - hope you've enjoyed your weekend.

Harry Potter

Sunny, warm, temps 30

Gorgeous day in Montreal. Yesterday threatened a bit, but turned out beautifully. Some accounting needed to be done, then lunch with friends, then Home Depot, to get some stuff (including in this case the not-proverbial kitchen sink) for the quickly approaching renovations. We went from having no idea what we really wanted - and not much of an opinion - to experts, in about half an hour. Sadly, as often happens, Michael held one expert opinion and I another. But Home Depot solved the dilemma by not having my 'opinion' available...so we ended up with Michael's. And for the life of me now I can't remember what the difference could possibly have been.

We're off to see Harry Potter in about an hour. It's playing all over Montreal, of course. But among the theatres is the Imax - in 3D. So we bought tickets to that and will be going with the three Mounts. We're all extremely excited. Oddly, I read all the books, except the last. Can't explain why I didn't read the last one. Perhaps I didn't want it to end. I also didn't read the last Colin Dexter Morse book. Too sad.

Spent 4 hours today - from 10am to 2pm dealing with Rogers Canada, trying to get Michael a new blackberry, and to fix mine. I could have, of course, simply upgraded. Mine is quite old. But I'm used to it, and I like it, and it just seems wasteful too. So I had to hop in a taxi and find some small office downtown, crammed between two restaurants, where a man fixed blackberries and iPhones. After a couple of tries, he did it! Feels great. Especially given the big book tour coming up...didn't want to be without a blackberry, or with one that only semi-worked.

Off to do some work on the August newsletter (being sent out by Linda August 1st) - then the Mounts are picking us up at 3.

Talk to you soon -

Jack Layton

sunny, then stormy, then sunny - one of those days - temps 25

Cool down continues - very nice. Big storms kicked up, though, with huge winds and rain and lightning. then sun came out. I wonder if there's a life lesson....nah.

Like so many Canadians, I was devastated to hear the news that the leader of the New Democratic Party in Canada, Jack Layton, was stepping aside because he has cancer. He held a news conference yesterday, and looked gaunt. It was thoroughly unexpected - though he'd had prostate cancer a year ago. But he intimated this was a whole other cancer - though he wasn't specific.

Mr. Layton led the NDP to an historic position politically, when he won huge gains in the federal election earlier this year - and became Canada's official opposition. He absolutely stole Quebec's heart - and the voters here rewarded his candor and intelligence, his humour and passion, with an unprecedented number of seats.

The NDP is a socialist party - in as much as they believe in social justice, in a social safety net, in accountability. In providing universal and excellent health care and education. Obviously, there is sometimes a gap between the ideal and the reality, but the NDP has rarely lost their belief that it was possible to be strong, assertive, smart, and compassionate. That there's a place for intelligence and kindness in politics. And that the most fortunate looking out for the least fortunate is a social responsibility and not naive.

Canada is such a fascinating country. Our government is Conservative and the official opposition is socialist. I suspect most Canadians are a mix of both...like I am. In some areas I lean toward the conservative. In many, I lean more toward the socialist. Sometimes I think I believe one thing, but when tested in real life I realize I actually believe the opposite. Or, in theory I lean in one direction - in practice I act another way.

We're all complex. Most people are a mish-mash, a tapestry of all sorts of beliefs. Very few people I've met are dogmatic, rigid.

Jack Layton is not a perfect man, and the NDP is not a perfect party - and their vision is not perfect either. But they believe in the best. And now it's time to believe that Mr. Layton will defeat this cancer. If he stood up for us, perhaps we can now stand up for him. Even those who did not vote NDP and never will. This isn't about politics, but about a good and decent man - and
praying for his recovery. Because, what country can't use good men and women?

Be well, Jack Layton. Be well, all of you.

Finally caught up with the finish line!!

sunny and hot - again! temps 30

Wow - what sizzling days!!! Great to be in the country - but too hot to sit outside. I know many of you are experiencing the same thing. Hope you aren't suffering too much with the heat. I find not being able to sleep the worst. God bless geo-thermal, and our great good fortune to be able to put it in, and to do it before the heatwave.

Finished the second draft!!!! 5pm yesterday. I was determined to do it....but not to rush so fast to the end that I skipped over things that needed to be done. I can do that if I'm not careful - get caught up in the goal and forget that point is a great product. A month from now it won't matter what day I finished the draft - but it will matter if I did a good job.

I'd not sooner finished, though, and celebrated....than I remembered an issue that needs to be added. But I won't worry about that now. Plenty of time to do that in the next draft. I'll take the week off, relax, watch the old Avengers and My Cousin Vinny and the new Poirot movies on DVD....and zone out. Then start the next draft next Sunday.

Each draft gets less scary, as I grow more confident that the book is shaping into what I want. What I'd hoped and dreamed it would be before I started. I aways have a 'feeling' for a book....what I want to feel when I've finished it, and what I long for you to feel when you finish reading....and that's what I'm aiming at. And with each draft, I get a little closer. Actually with the first and second I get a lot closer...and then each subsequent draft is fine tuning...those small but crucial elements. The grace notes. Smoothing, simplifying - getting my fear and ego and need to impress out of it - and make it simply the story I want to tell.

Of course, my ego masquerades as 'brilliant' writing. Turns of phrase that will enthrall and delight the reader. But over the course of drafts they get taken out, if their only purpose is to impress. And what stays is what needs to be there. I hope. But, wow, is it every painful!!! It's an imperfect process, because I'm so flawed. But the books, and perhaps I, get better. As a writer, but mostly as a person, I hope. Happily, I think the two for me go hand in hand.

So the second draft is done....and I'm going to chill out (sort of) this week....and just enjoy. Phew!

Had such a fun week with the Mounts and Trevor. As you can see from one of the photos, we had them over for dinner one night, and Michael spent dinner with them at the cottage while I was in Montreal working. When they came here for dinner we did a barbeque we'd never tried before, but had heard a lot about. Fresh salmon on cedar planks. I found the whole idea so intimidating I wouldn't consider trying....but then we decided that we might as well. Michael and Trevor did the actual barbequing - after we'd marinated the salmon. And it turned out beautifully. though i was a little concerned that when Michael invited them over for dinner he seemed to imply that we were serving them barbequed cedar planks.

but they showed up anyway. We also served fresh corn on the cob and broccoli salad, and tomato, bocanccini(sp?) and basil from our herb garden.

A few days ago I showed you our first tomato...well, the plants have been chugging away, producing more. But we seem to have invented a whole new form of agriculture. Micro farming. Producing micro-vegetables. We started with cherry tomatoes and now they've become slightly larger than atoms. We'll take out the magnifying glass for the next harvest. You can see the photo...the giant tomato is in fact a cherry tomato.

Michael is now off picking raspberries with Trudy.

Hope you're enjoying your Sunday and your summer. and I really hope this heat isn't getting to you too much. speak soon!

Easier near the end...

sunny, hot, hazy - like everyone else in NA it seems. temps 32

Came in to Montreal to concentrate on the final push. No interruptions - I thought. Arrived at 9 last night, driving in from the country. Unpacked, and straight to bed. Woke up at 7:30 to drilling. A screeching so loud I thought it was inside my head. And certainly, and disconcertingly, inside our apartment. I threw on sweats and looked into the hall.

I figured it must be in the apartment above us. So I marched upstairs. I felt like a villager off to slay Frankenstein's monster. Determined. Once up there I quickly realized there was no monster on that floor, so up I walked to the next level. Screeching continuing, but not as loud.

Back down.

I couldn't, for the life of me, track it down. It was like it was in the walls and ceiling itself.

So I went down to speak to the doorman. Sydney. wonderful man. He told me they were replacing crumbling concrete on some of the balconies.

'At 7:30 in the morning?' I asked.

He nodded.

'But why's it so loud right in our apartment?'

'Because it's a concrete building,' Sydney explained, and I realized not for the first time, 'and sound travels. And it seems the farther you are away from it the louder it gets.'

Which seemed both perverse and probably true.

So all morning, while I made cup after cup of cafe au lait in the Vive Gamache mug, I heard the screaming of either the drills or my fellow tenants. But, as you probably know from working on your own projects....a sort of miracle happens and the world fades away. After a while I was completely immersed in following Gamache, Beauvoir and the others through the halls of the monastery, as they tracked down a killer.

And they're getting close. I'm at page 266 out of 285. I started the say at 249 out of 280. I move forward and the end moved back. I may never end. I'll be blogging about this book for decades, and you, poor souls, will be patiently reading about it - or perhaps, like the screeching, you'll simply tune it out.

But i have to say, I'm excited about this book. It just takes a long time to get it right. When I finish this draft I'll take a week away then start at the beginning again. And keep at it until it's right.

Michael and I had the most wonderful day yesterday. We headed to Cowansville for brteakfast at the Station - where jackie served us the best french toast with sliced strawberries and bananas...then did some chores...then head to Hovey manor for lunch. We'd invited our friends who're staying at the guest cottage to join us. Bal, Linda, Bethany Mount and their friend Trevor, who also visited last year.

I've posted a not great photo of Bal and Trevor. Bal's on the left and Trevor's on the right. And one Bal took of Michael and Linda, with me in the middle. As you see, it was a spectacular day. And it gave us such joy to share a place we love with people we love. We sat under a tree and sipped Elderflower and chatted. Then went onto the verandah and had lunch. Duck confit, lobster rolls, grilled chicken salads, steak brochettes....and for dessert, lemon cream parfaits, brownies and fresh fruit and whipped cream.

Dear Lord, take us now.

But the day wasn't over. We hopped in the cars and zoomed off to the nearby abbey of Saint-Benoit, where the abbot, Dom Andre and Brother Charles were waiting. The abbot's preparing for a huge concert he's giving this Saturday as part of the Orford Music Festival....the abbot is one of the leading harpsicord and organ players in North America. He interrupted his practicing to see us.

Well, by 'us' I don't mean Michael and me. Nor do I mean Bal, Linda or Bethany. I mean Trevor. If the abbot is one of the best harpsicord musicians in NA, Trevor is one of the best in the world. Trevor Pinnock is his name. He's also a conductor. Indeed, Brother Charles had seen him conduct Romeo and Juliet in NYC a few years ago, with Kathleen Battle performing.

When the abbot heard Trevor was around he issued a lovely invitation. And Trevor, lovely man, accepted.

Now, we thought it was to say a quick hello, and let the abbot get back to work. But instead, the abbot wanted to show Trevor his harpsicord, so off we went to his private practice hall in the abbey and there it was. Trevor seemed extremely impressed and sat down.

And started to play.

the rest of us slumped to whatever seats we could find...stunned. To have a private performance by a virtuoso was such a gift. It left Michael in tears. Moved by both the music and Trevor's generosity. And then, the abbot took the seat and performed one of the pieces he'll be doing on Saturday. We were agape with amazement. The sounds, the glory of the music, the power of these two men as they played. And their passion. And to be within touching distance - it was a treat beyond imagining.

Then it was time to leave Dom Andre to his work, after many thanks...and wonderful Brother Charles took us on a tour of the monastery...into places he hadn't even shown Michael and me before.

We said goodbye outside the monastery shop, where we went in and Linda and I cleared them out of fresh pies and apple crisps. The monastery makes cheese, but it also has an organic apple orchard, and make their own pies and sauce.

It was pathetic - like a feeding frenzy - probably scarred young Bethany for life - seeing her mother and me in such a state of rapture. Not unlike, now that I think of it, Trevor and Dom Andre when they were performing. Pies are our harpsicords.

Then, back home, a quick swim and into Montreal. Michael stayed behind with Trudy and the pool.

More writing tomorrow...while we were at the abbey Dom Andre told us an old monastic saying that eternity is a very long time, but it gets easier near the end. As someone increasingly familiar with eternity, I hope that's true!

Hope you're not melting!

Hello, I must be going...

mailing sunny - hot and humid - temps 29

Very muggy. LOVING the geo. But I spend all day editing on the screen porch. Absolutely heaven. Take trudy for a walk when I get fed up or frightened, or confused. She is getting in good shape.

To be fair, the book is also in far better shape than I dared hope - both in terms of the quality and structure of the first draft, and the way the second draft is going. I made a lot of notes in the weeks I took off between the two, and I think they're paying off. Today was a bit dicey - some pivotal stuff needed to be added and switched around...but it worked well. Oh, thank heaven.

Amazing how powerful fear is. I was thinking this morning, after editing just 5 pages of the 25 I was hoping to do - that maybe I should stop. Just stop. I didn't want to do it anymore. Oddly, this wasn't in a particularly difficult section. and while tired, I don't think I'm any more tired than anyone of you.

I think it was fear...again. Not focussed, just sort of free-floating. fortunately I recognized the feeling...had it in the first draft too - and in each of the past books...as I near the end of a draft I shy away from it. Feet that had felt light and strong suddenly feel leaden. Some invisible power is pushing me away from the end, like a polar opposite magnet.

But clearly that's not reasonable, and certainly not an option. So I just need to put one foot in front of the other and keep going. Nose down.

And sure enough, within a page, that feeling had gone. Am now at page 228 out of 280. Slightly more than 60 to go, though I suspect I'll be adding some at the end. I think I hurried it, so desperate was I to finish the first draft. My hope is to be finished the second draft (first edit) by the end of the week. It should be possible, though I also know it slows down at the end, just because of the intricacy of it.

Had a fun day yesterday. Edited until 1pm, then Michael and went to Knowlton and had lunch with kevin and Terry Tierney. Then at 4:30 I interviewed Kevin as part of the Knowlton WordFest. Fabulous festival...lots of amazing guests. Kevin produced Bon Cop, Bad cop. Very funny - and the most successful Canadian film at the box office in decades. His new film is out in Oct and is called French Immersion.

Must run - Bal, Linda, Bethany and their friend Trevor have arrived...staying in cottage...came over for swims, drinks, nibblies. then I'm off to give the literacy speech to end the Knowlton WordFest. Bye!

Crossing our fingers, and our legs

mainly sunny - perfect day! temps 28

Woke up to the most exquisite day. Not a cloud. Warm but not sizzling. Sat by the pool for breakfast. Spent morning editing. It's going much faster now...and even I get caught up in the story...very, very fun when that happens. (though part of me is always, and constantly praying, that I haven't screwed it up!) So far, so good. Well over halfway through.

I've hit a patch I think might be problematic - but decided to break for the day and go at it fresh tomorrow.

Lise and donna came and did the gardens yesterday...and we had our very first harvest. A single cherry tomato. There's Michael, with the tomato (like a clown's nose, which Lise assures me, it is not). We cut it into quarters and shared with Lise and Donna. Nothing like a fresh picked tomato, still warm from the sun.

Susan, Shelagh and Shelagh's friend Jenny came for a swim yesterday - then w all went over to the cottage for dinner. Susan was barbequing and halfway through...pooopht. Out of propane. So susan and I trooped through the woods to our place, with the platter of chicken, and used our bbq. GREAT dinner. very fun conversations...especially riveting to hear Shelagh's experiences as part of the Truth and Reconciliation process with the native population. Especially the travesty of the residential schools, where young native kids were taken forcibly from their families and sent away to school where they had their language and customs beaten out of them. And it was made clear to them, they were barely better than animals. And certainly, far inferior to whites.

the shame is almost too much to bear. Shelagh described being there on Canada Day and each of the survivors of the residential schools were given a cupcake and a candle - to celebrate their own birthdays, since none were celebrated when they were children. The candles were lit and the lights turned off...and it was like, in Shelagh's words, the most beautiful church service. Like votives. And then they sang happy birthday, in their native languages.

Susan, Shelagh and Jenny are coming over here for dinner. Wild rice salad, fresh fruit for dessert and confit de canard on the bbq.

But there is one small problem. Our downstairs toilet broke, and in trying to fix it I made it worse. Apparently, and I know this will come as much as a shock to you as it came to me, I'm not a trained plumber. The water, then, wouldn't stop filling and options were a) spend eternity flushing the toilet b) sell the house c) turn off all the water in the house.

We took c. Now, normally there'd be a small valve close to the toilet, for just this sort of idiocy...erm...emergency. But there isn't one there.

We called - who else - Gary - who was about 100 kms away but said he'd come tonight - God bless him!! But finally we got through to Dwayne, our friendly local plumber. He's apparently on his way. And I cannot begin to tell you how much I'm regretting that bowl of cafe au lait this morning. But deeply grateful it was only one.

Off to the Knowlton WordFest tomorrow. I'm interviewing Kevin Tierney at the Old Masonic Hall in Knowlton, at 4:30. kevin's the producer of Bon Cop, Bad Cop.

Hope to see you there! Or anywhere. Most of all, I hope you're having a terrific summer.