Tendril stirs

A sailboat hull across the street from my apartment


My breathless exploration of science fiction has almost come to a close, for now. Happily, the Philip Dick novel isn't taking long to read. I'm growing impatient with the inconsistencies and superficiality that fill the pulp of this genre.

Tendril rolled over in her sleep yesterday, stirring bubbles of consciousness to the surface. A writer must live and breathe a character for some time to bring her to life. I've been mulling, struggling over architecture of the plot, fretting about my lack of knowledge, when what I really need is to listen to my own inner story.

The writing style that moves me most is poetic. Writers like Michael Ondaatje, Anne Michaels and Dionne Brand impress sensual sceneries of words into memory. My favourite science fiction writer, Ursula LeGuin, does the same.

When I summon the courage to unbutton my own inhibitions and trust my voice, filled with imagery, I unleash something sudden as a dark horse, vast as a nebula. It emerges from years of despair and loneliness, frightens me. After such a long voyage, I've reached this tiny peaceful planet, only to discover my passion is rooted in the turbulent space left behind. The journey is not over.

Archive meme

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I cheated and included the whole first paragraph, because it was interesting as an indicator of life at the time, both personally and societally. And of how vulnerable we are to losing things we take for granted. Canada has been unscathed by the recent string of disasters, but in spring 2003 it was a different story.

May 23, 2003

It's a sunny, chilly afternoon and I wanted to go for a walk, but I had to wait around for a delivery of medical supplies. It never came. This is another result of the SARS epidemic. Medical services everywhere in Ontario are eccentric and unreliable. Hopefully the stuff will come tomorrow while I'm waiting for my grocery delivery.

When I was in hospital a few weeks earlier, the SARS scare was at its worst. The day I was supposed to be released, all visitation was cancelled and I was afraid I wouldn't be allowed to go. Triage was moved outside the hospital to the front parking lot. Finally my surgeon paid a cursory visit and gave me the go-ahead. The friend who came to pick me up wasn't allowed to enter the building, so I had to go out to meet him. I was still in considerable pain from abdominal surgery a week earlier. My memory is a little foggy: a nurse may have helped me down to the front door.

I joined LiveJournal while convalescing at home.

I'm not going to tag anyone because many people would object, but if you're interested in doing this meme, consider yourself tagged.