Luck and Gratitude

The last four weeks have been nothing short of an emotional roller coaster. It's only been a month since life threw me a whopper of a curve ball, but it feels like two months have gone by. Over the course of these four weeks, I've been doing a lot of thinking all while trying to get my life back to normal. Since February 22^nd, I've had five people in need of hospitals (two were precautionary), and two recent deaths, one of which was resuscitated before my own eyes. You've heard the phrase 'truth is stranger than fiction'. Well, I'm standing here to tell you that phrase is damn spot on.

On February 22^nd, five minutes after arriving at work, my mother had a cardiac arrest and, literally, dropped dead. My mother and I work at the same company, a company she has worked with for 30 years. With the swift action of our colleague and the Durham Region Emergency Services, she was resuscitated. I watched paramedics perform CPR on my mother and shock her heart into beating again. I lost my mother and got her back all in the same day – all in the course of about ten minutes. To say I was numb for most of the day is a bit of an understatement, but thanks to a pair of friends who have been beyond amazing, I was able to get out to a screening of the Oscars (thanks, David, for reserving that ticket for me!). The support (and tough love) I've received from them has been a godsend, and I have no idea what I would have done without them.

My mother spent 10 days in hospital, and is now recovering at home. She is getting stronger each day, though the road ahead is still quite long. My role at home has changed, as I am now the only source of income until my mom can get back to work. In a single moment, I became an adult. They say you never truly grow up until your parents pass away. Well, like that 'truth is stranger than fiction' statement earlier, I can tell you this is just as true. In a split second, I became an adult, and I still don't quite know what to do with it.

A few days after my mom's death and resuscitation, I was told my uncle's brother-in-law, a man I've called uncle since I was a child (despite not technically being related by blood) was in the final stages of his life. While my mother was recovering from her own brush with death, my uncle's death was impending. On March 20^th, around 5:45pm, my uncle passed away just two hours after being taken off of life support.

All through this, I have been doing a lot of thinking, and two things continuously come up in those thoughts. How grateful I am for my family and the friends who have offered me their support in many ways, and how lucky I am February 22^nd panned out the way it did. Had it have happened ten minutes sooner, neither my mother or me would be here because it would have happened on the road. Had it have happened ten minutes later, would I have responded in time? Had my colleague not come back inside to tell my mother something, would she be alive now? Were it not for Ellie, who graciously allowed me to stay at her place so I wasn't alone, and for David, who has allowed me to vent and has given me both tough love and the ability to get through this on my own time, I doubt I would have the level head I do right now. I don't know how to thank them for their support. And to everyone else – family, friends, friends who I consider family – who have offered their support in their own ways, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

You may remember a post a few months ago regarding my difficult birth. (If you haven't read it, you can read it here.) In short, those thoughts about purpose have come back. It's been made clear to me that my mother's purpose has not yet been fulfilled, or she wouldn't have come back. My uncle's purpose in life has been fulfilled and thus, his time here is over. I also wasn't meant to die the day my mother did (though, the recent string of death and worry about friends has had me wondering if I've pissed off the Powers That Be), and I'm brought back to the same question I brought up in that other blog post. Why? Why am I here? Why is my mother here? Why did she come back from the dead? Why did I come back from the dead 27 years ago? What are our purposes? What are we meant to do?

It's possible that I will never have those answers, and I don't know if I'm okay with that. But, I do know words cannot properly express how grateful and lucky I am to be here and to have the people I have in my life. I still have a lot of life to live, and I hope my mother does too. And now, both my mother and I have experienced death and lived to tell about it. We're two fiercely strong women who will not go down without a fight. We're pretty awesome.

Book Review - The Puppet Master: An MSCE Investigation by David A. Xavier

 

On November 26th, I ordered a couple of books written by two of my fellow writers and friends of mine. They arrived shortly before Christmas, as they were both self-published and print-on-demand. I started reading them once I finished the edits on my own novel. I finished reading the first of them a few days ago.

The Puppet Master: An MSCE Investigation is the first in a series of novels written by David A. Xavier. MSCE stands for Metropolitan Special Circumstance Executive, a secret agency in the UK that specializes in keeping track of people with unique abilities. Detective Sergeant Oliver Soames is a member of the Metropolitan London Police Department who, upon investigating what appears to be a murder-suicide, suddenly becomes privy to a society he never knew existed. It's a world that is both fascinating and terrifying for him, and he is thrown into it without so much as a warning.

Well, what can I say? Xavier is a very talented writer. He knows what plot twists are and how to use them. (I didn't know whodunit until about seven chapters from the end, despite my guesses.) The characters are real, and they compliment each other well. They are characters I want to get to know more in depth.

The writing switches from 1st person to 3rd person in pivotal moments, and the writing is superb in these moments. One of the 3rd person chapters is my favourite chapter in the entire book. (Chapter 28 to be precise.)

The book just recently received a very positive review from The US Review of Books, and you can read the full review here: HERE

David A. Xavier is the pen name of David Kingsmill, a gentleman who is somewhat of a jack-of-all-trades. He's a musician, a playwright (he's had several shows in the Edinburgh Festival; in 2014, 2 received 5 stars), and now, a published author. He also has an excellent singing voice. I know this because he just happens to be a wonderful friend of mine. And before you say it, no, his friendship has not swayed my review of his book. His writing truly is that good!

It was interesting for me to read this book on a personal level. I met him in November 2012 when he started the novel as part of NaNoWriMo, and I remember having a few conversations with him regarding the progress of our respective projects. I am incredibly proud of him for completing the book and getting his work out there. I cannot wait to read the second in the series (a fact he is more than well aware of), and I hope to delve into the lives of some of the supporting characters.

If you'd like to pick up a copy of the book and take a look for yourself, you can get it on Kindle, in hardcover, or in paperback from any of these sites:

The Puppet Master - Amazon.com

The Puppet Master - Amazon.ca

The Puppet Master - Amazon.uk

You can also check out more of David's work and future projects via his website: Dragon Literature

Who are my heroes? Literary Ones of all kinds

Every Friday I can be found at a central Toronto Starbucks hosting a weekly writing session with some of my fellow NaNoWriMo participants. We gather around the big table upstairs with our laptops and write, chat about writing, catch up, and dissolve into giggles at some point over the course of the evening.

 

 

During a recent session, three of us got chatting about movies and books, and how they had influenced our lives as well as the material we were writing. As writers heavily influenced by fantasy, our conversation alternated between Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. One of them mentioned the fact that, for her, were it not for J.K. Rowling and the Harry Potter series of books, her life would have been very different. She wouldn't have met the people she had, nor would she have found her call to write. When she said this, I started thinking about my own writing, and my literary heroes.

 

I have been writing since I was a child, and found inspiration everywhere – in my environment, in my teachers, in my friends, and in my family. Certain subjects in elementary school would trigger a story idea, and away I'd go. The stories were not very good and nothing really special, but they were stories and I was writing. Then, I saw The Lord of the Rings Trilogy and things changed. I found my literary genre of choice. Fantasy. Not long after seeing the films, I began my first attempt at writing an epic fantasy. But, without a true plot and outline, it lost its steam very quickly. About five or six years later, I would be given an idea for what, at the time, was a silly story that would involve unicorns. As I ironed out the plot and the logistics of it, it began to grow to become something much bigger than itself; much bigger than me. During that conversation with two of my fellow writers, I realized that, in part, without Lord of the Rings, my own trilogy would not have been conceived. Without Peter Jackson's vision of Middle-Earth, the setting of my book wouldn't have happened. Thus, had J.R.R. Tolkien not have created the beautiful setting and characters of his many books, I wouldn't be creating my own wondrous setting and characters. I have come to realize that I owe my trilogy to Tolkien.

 

Writers are an interesting bunch of people. We are every day people with a splash (or several) of insanity. We are succubi in that we take in energy and inspiration from the world around us. We draw on each others energy, and we inspire each other. I am constantly being given ideas and inspiration whether my writer friends know it or not. With this knowledge, I am amazingly grateful that I decided to partake in NaNoWriMo back in 2012. Partaking in the writing challenge cleared the path I needed to interact with wonderful people who have become my lifeline in many ways.

 

In short, my literary heroes are many people: Tolkien, George R.R. Martin, C.S. Lewis, Stephen King... as well as the writers I associate myself with in my hometown. (I recently read a book one of them has published, and I will be posting my thoughts on it very soon.) They are my heroes in more ways than one, because without them, I wouldn't be where I am. My literary heroes, infamous or not, are the reasons I write what I do. They are the reason I write period. They have changed my life for the better. In many ways, they have saved my life by granting me access to a wondrous medium through which I can express myself. They are also the group of people I feel I can show my true self to, and that in and of itself is something truly remarkable.

 

To ALL of my literary heroes: THANK YOU!!! Each and every one of you!

Five Hundred, Twenty-Five Thouand, Six Hundred

Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred. That's how many minutes there are in a year. 525,600. At the risk of sounding like the theme to my favourite musical, how do you measure those minutes? How do you measure a year?

 

For some, a year is a long time; for others, it's merely the blink of an eye. For me, 2014 has been a bit of both, and I've been trying to come up with a way to sum everything up. It's had its ups and downs, its fun and its torment, its joy and its sorrow. But, all in all, I really cannot complain. I have met some amazing people in this last year, whose lives have come to run alongside mine. Friends have come and have moved away. I have gained, lost, and then gained employment. I spent 30 days alongside and leading an incredible group of writers. I have been given an amazing opportunity that does not come every day.

 

2014 started on a slightly somber note when a friend I have come to regard very highly moved back home to London (the real London). I count him among the very best of my friends; he's one of those people who makes my world seem right and my life would not be complete without him. I would see him again in April and again in November when he came back to visit, visits I wished had lasted much longer than they did.

 

April saw me taking on the Camp NaNo challenge, during which, I finished a Power Rangers fanfic I had been working on for about four years. It was both exciting and grievous to have something that had been in my life for so long come to an end. But, end it did. Throughout it, I met with some fellow writers every Friday at a local Starbucks (a meeting that has continued all year and will do so for what I hope is a very long time to come), was reunited with my friend from London, turned 26, and welcomed the coming of Spring with open arms.

 

The closing of June saw the end of my career in retail when the store I was working at closed. The lack of employment gave me a chance to work on my writing, but at the cost of my pay cheque. I would become employed once more in September at the company my mother works, and I have been there ever since.

 

July saw another Camp NaNo session, a session that seemed to fly by but gave me the beginnings of a story I hope to one day complete. (My trilogy takes presidency over all, though.) I also had the chance to meet with a friend I hadn't seen in many months.

 

In August, while meeting a glorious Green-cheeked Conure named, Frodo, I was asked if I would consider being NaNo event and chat room moderator for the Toronto region. I humbly accepted, and started the 2014 session of NaNo as, not only a participant, but a leader. It came with a new set of challenges, but I was prepared to meet them. So, with my trust mascot, Perry the Owl, I embarked on a month long journey with thousands of others worldwide to reach the ever-evasive 50,000 word goal. 2014's NaNo proved to be one of the toughest ones I participated in as the fates seemed to be against me. I started out behind and was never able to catch up. Halfway through, I gave up on reaching the 50,000 word goal, but just continued to write for the sake of writing. Then, on November 12th, an amazing opportunity was cast my way. The publisher, Simon and Schuster hosted a write-in event at a downtown Chapters, and I was in attendance. Everyone filled out a ballet, and entered to win the chance to have their manuscript read and reviewed by one of the publisher's editors. My name was drawn. I then spent the rest of November in a daze and alternated between writing and editing. I was also able to catch up with people I hadn't seen in a year, and I got to spend a much needed afternoon and evening with the friend who had gone home to London in January.

 

December brought on a flurry of editing (which I'm still in the throes of), and preparing for the upcoming Christmas season. It's also brought me to the movie theatre twice for three viewings of the final Hobbit film, The Battle of the Five Armies. Each time I have seen it, I have noticed different things, and this last viewing brought out the tears for me.

 

Christmas this year will me spent at my cousins', and for the first time in a very long time, there will be children involved, including a one-week old. It has been years since children have been a part of my Christmas Eve tradition, and I am very excited. Children make Christmas was it is. They make it joyous, and exciting, and innocent. They make Christmas beautiful.

 

2014, for me, has been measured in new experiences, changes, and, most of all, friendships new and old. 

 

To everyone who has crossed paths with me, whether in person, or online, thank you for being a part of my life. To those who have chosen to walk alongside me, thank you for sharing your road with mine regardless of how long or short that shared road was. To those who are still walking alongside me, thank you for allowing me to just be me and allowing me into your lives. Thank you for sharing in those five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes.

 

TO EVERYONE: I wish you all the very best!

 

Merry Christmas, and all the best in 2015!

What Is My Purpose In Life?

Do you ever wonder why things happen the way they do? Do you ever wonder why you're here, what your purpose is in life? Do you ever wonder if you're meant to be here? Over the last few months, I've been giving these questions quite a bit of thought.

Late August, my family doctor retired, which meant my mom and I had to find a new one. We did, and we picked up our medical charts to take to this new doctor. Between our last appointment with our former doctor, and our first appointment with our new doctor, we had some time to look through our medical charts. In doing so, we found out something neither one of us knew about me. I was still born.

I'd always known that my first few days of life had been touch-and-go. My mom had an appointment for a non-stress test, and the doctors discovered I was in distress. So, as a result, I was born a month premature. I've also known that I had stopped breathing a couple of days into life, and I spent 15 days in NICU, as well as that my development was slowed in part due to being premature. (I'm also aware that I didn't speak in full sentences until I was 4; I'm making up for lost time, lol.) However, I did not know that I actually hadn't been alive when I was born. When I was born, I was clinically dead.

This knowledge sparked a few questions, the most prominent one being, "Why did I survive?" Why did I come back to life? Am I meant to be here? Why? What is it that I am supposed to accomplish in however many years I'm granted? Whose lives am I supposed to enrich, if any?

I have many acquaintances and people I see fairly regularly, but I have very few close friends. It's been that way since I was a child, primarily because I choose who I want to hang out with. The people I make time to meet with are, in many ways, very special to me. In spite of this, there have been people who have come into my life I feel like I was fated to meet for various reasons. A couple of them got me back into playing my guitar fairly regularly, another few have, and continue to be, my inspiration for my trilogy and other novels, and one other reminded me how much I used to love playing board games. There are people with whom I feel the most at home, and the most free to be me. They are the people who have enriched my life. If they have enriched my life in their own big and little ways, have I done the same for them? What is my purpose in their lives? Am I fulfilling that purpose?

Those who really know me, know that I can sometimes be completely off the wall. I am really not so different from say, Peter Pan, in that I am a kid at heart and always have been. My difficult birth has provided me with a humourous response of, "I didn't get enough oxygen as a baby" when people look at me as though I've got two extra heads. On occasion, that response becomes, "Ain't you glad I survived?" when those same people can only smile and shake their heads at me. In spite of this, it's something I have struggled to grapple with since August, and I suspect that I will continue to struggle with it forever.

Why did I survive on my birthday when thousands of other babies in the same predicament may not have? What makes me so special? Why me?

In thinking about it, I've come to realize that everyone has a purpose, something they are meant to do. Everyone is meant to touch someone, everyone is meant to influence someone else. Everyone has a path to travel, even if that path is not clear, and those paths intersect for a reason – some bad, some good.

With this in mind, everyone who has crossed my path has meant to. To those who have made me feel at home, I am forever grateful. To everyone to has crossed paths with me, thank you, for you have made my life what it is.

"One never reaches home, but wherever friendly paths intersect the whole world looks like home for a time." ~ Hermann Hesse

The End of a Chapter

As of midnight December 1st, the 2014 season of National Novel Writing Month came to an end. My word count was a measly 18,860, but those words would not have happened were it not for the support I received from my fellow Wrimos. I have yet to win a NaNo, but maybe 2015 will be my year.

In spite of my horrible word count, I had an amazing ride. I was an event and chat room moderator, which was an awesome experience that both thrilled and terrified me. I was suddenly responsible for hosting events and keeping chat safe. I think I was successful.

I also got to hang out with people I have come to love dearly, people who have encouraged me, supported me, picked me up when I've fallen. These are people who are just as insane as I am and who have influenced my life for the better. Many have been there since my first NaNo in 2012, and have been my pillers, my rocks, my source of laughter, and a source of inspiration.

As I rode the bus home from the last NaNo write-in of 2014 with my trusted mascot, Perry (aka my NaNoWrimOwl), I thought back on the crazy month that had just passed. I had become a leader of sorts, I barely saw much of my home as I ventured out to coffee shops to get the words out. I spent a night in a church kind enough to let us use their facilities for an overnight writing session. I received the opportunity to have my manuscript ready by publisher, Simon & Schuster. But, most importantly, I had been reunited with friends I hadn't seen in far too long, including one I wish didn't live so far away.

The one thing to remember about NaNo, regardless of whether you win it or not, is, you become part of an international community of writers. You instantly acquire the support of everyone else who is doing this at the same time. Should you make it out to write-in events within your local community, you are met with people who are striving to reach the same goal you are, the same people who will give you a pat on the back for finishing regardless of what your word count ends up being.

To those who won: CONGRATULATIONS!

To those who didn't reach 50k: CONGRATULATIONS!!! You have more words than you had in October! That's something to be proud of.

To EVERYONE: congratulations on everything you've written! You are awesome! Keep writing!

And to EVERYONE who has been there to support me, whether through encouragement and cheering, through laughter and shenanigans, through listening to my rants, or through simply putting up with me: From the bottom of my heart, thank you!

 

Perry and me riding home after
the last 2014 NaNo write-in.

The Chance of a Lifetime

I have a few busy weeks ahead of me. I have a manuscript to finish!

Yesterday evening, November 12^th, I attended a NaNoWriMo write-in session hosted by book publisher, Simon & Schuster at the Indigo bookstore at the Toronto Eaton Centre. It was amazing to be writing mere feet away from books, some of which have been written by fellow Wrimos. (Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen and Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell are two of them.) Fifty of us were sitting in the Starbucks within the bookstore for this write-in. I did not get a whole not written, as I was fulfilling some of my mod duties (I am an event and chatroom moderator for the Toronto region this year), but I had a great time.

As part of the festivities, Simon & Schuster provided us with free coffee and baked goods, and gave us all a chance to win an opportunity to have the first 50,000 words of our manuscripts read by one of their editors. At 11:30pm, I was fulfilling my mod duties when they got our attention, and drew the winner.

"Jen Flynn!"

It took several seconds for me to realize that the name they had drawn was mine. When the realization struck, shock came with it, and I really wasn't sure what it all meant other than, I now had a manuscript to finish. I now have a manuscript to finish! And I know exactly what it is going to be. Four others also won free books courtesy of Indigo and Simon & Schuster.

I have been working on a trilogy for going on six years, and it has been a labour of love. I've had to climb a few walls, and scramble out of a few pits, but I have stuck by it. It even underwent a rewrite ten chapters in because things, namely characters, changed. It began as such a tiny, insignificant idea that, over a month of tending and planning, began to grow and become something much bigger than itself. It became bigger than me. It became my baby. It is a project I've been itching to finish, but now, I have the motivation to actually put my time and energy into it full time. And it deserves every second and every ounce of my time and energy; it always has. (Thank goodness I am almost 100,000 words into it!)

I do not know what will become of this future meeting with Simon & Schuster, but I am a cauldron of emotions. I am happy, I am anxious, I am thrilled, I am terrified. My head is a whirlwind of thoughts, and of wishes and dreams. As it's sinking in, I am realizing just how much work I have ahead of me, and just how important this trilogy is to me. And not just the trilogy, but the people who have stood behind me and beside me during this venture. They are just as important as the trilogy is, if not more so. I am very so grateful to my good friend, Robin, who told me about a conversation he'd had with his mom. Thank you, Sheila, for having that conversation with your son! Shannon, author of the blog, The Creation of Beauty is Art, for allowing me to take her along on this trip, and for being there to read each chapter as I complete them. To everyone in the Toronto NaNoWriMo (ToNaNo) community who has encouraged me, picked me up when I've fallen, knocked me down a peg or two when needed, and just simply been there along the journey: Thank you! You are very much a part of my extended family, and you are a huge part of the reason this trilogy is still being written. To anyone who has ever read this blog, I thank you, too! Your support means a tremendous amount.

I shall keep you up to date with my editing progress, and what happens when the first bit of the manuscript is read!