Some time ago, when I read about the shooting in Ottawa’s parliament, it reminded me of a trip my husband and I took to that city a few years ago. When most people think of Eastern Canada’s major cities, cosmopolitan Montreal and culturally diverse Toronto come to mind. Rarely do they think of Ottawa, Canada’s capital. But it has many charms, as interesting a place to visit as the country’s more popular destinations. Dignified with old world qualities, Ottawa is a handsome, stately place that also has a dual personality. It resides across the river from Hull, Quebec, its sister city, highlighting Canada’s bilingual nature of English and French. For me, a Canadian by birth, I’m grateful to have that heritage. (more…)
ON FINDING AN AGENT!
Okay, so you’ve accomplished the impossible. An agent has expressed interest in your work and you’ve signed a contract. All those months (maybe years) of sending out your novel have paid off. Not only do you have an agent, but she’s in New York, on Park Avenue. A respectable established firm.
Now what?
You wait.
First, give up the notion that the agent will want to see everything you’ve ever written. Maybe she’ll politely glance at some of your things, but she has to keep building her list. Taking time to read your backlog of writing keeps her from reading promising manuscripts from other writers.
Forget the idea that she’ll want to discuss your career with you. After you’ve sold something, she may want to work out a plan for future projects, encourage you to try out certain directions. But first you have to be financially viable and make money.
I know, you’ve thought agents shared your idealized opinions about art’s supremacy—that we’re all in it for the sake of art, that art comes first, money second.
Not on your life. This is strictly business.
Look at it from her point of view. Articles don’t make her money. Anything that has a regional audience won’t make her money. Most small presses won’t make her money. Agents are only interested in what can make them money. This is their livelihood.
Also don’t expect her to send out your manuscript indefinitely. She’s losing money if she does—and time. And don’t assume she’ll stay on top of submissions without an occasional reminder from you, showing you’re interested in knowing what publishers have received the book and where it’s going next.
You’ll find it’s a fine line. You don’t want to bug her every week or so, but you also don’t want your novel to grow cobwebs when it could be out working for you. A call or email every couple of months sounds about right.
Trust is a nice word and an honorable one. However, people usually have to earn our trust. Agents are no different. Assume the worst but expect the best—demand the best. After all, it’s your future; you’re the one who has put uncountable hours into this project
So initially, at least, put away your great expectations. The publishing world is raw, rough, and unpredictable. If you’re used to being the only child or in sharing your parents with only one or two siblings, you’re in for a shock. The agent will have many clients, all of them like you, hungry for attention, for feedback, for a sale. You’ll have to be happy with the crumbs that come your way.
There are some payoffs. While an editor might not buy your book, she may say you’re a very talented writer. Those three words can give you much-needed inspiration to keep writing.
And maybe one day, one of your books will sell. Maybe it will even hit the best seller list and you’ll graduate to your agent’s inner circle, become one of the writers whose career the agent does want to direct. But until then, don’t waste your energy wishing for what can’t be.
At least now you can tell people you have an agent. It’s almost as good as selling a book.
(My thanks to whoever wrote this blurb about agents, origins unknown.)















I’m grieving the loss of dictionaries, thick, massive volumes that I used to get lost in. I would open a page and find hundreds of words, all of them demanding my attention, each a miniature world to explore. But now I’ve become a victim of on-line lexicons because they are handier than putting aside my laptop computer and marching into the other room to unload the Oxford from a bookshelf where it resides. 




I’m thinking this morning of when my husband and I returned from a couple of nights in Calistoga, a charming town in California’s Napa Valley. Yes, it has its share of upwardly mobile types who go there to visit the many wineries. But there also are others who need to be replenished by the pastoral setting and many opportunities to take walks in the surrounding hills. I need that uplift today.
For everybody except those hiding under a rock, it’s impossible to avoid AI these days. 
I’m grateful to Al Sirois, a fellow Regal House author, for sharing with us his writing journey. 
Since my late 20s, I’ve recorded my dreams every morning, curious about the wonderful dramas that unfold each night in the subterranean depths. During a trip we took a while back to Osoyoos, B.C., I got a better understanding of dreams and the role they play in our lives.
I recall returning home a while back after spending time at a recently built rental home on the Oxnard, California, beach. It had a wonderful view overlooking the harbor and ocean. You might think I would miss the incredible views and location, as well as the house, brimming with technological toys. But I didn’t. It was a relief to return to our simple Richmond abode, built in the 1940s.
As a young woman in the 50s growing up in Canada, I was intrigued by hockey and football. Baseball didn’t exist for me then. It hadn’t entered Canadian consciousness, and it would take some years before it did. But I didn’t feel deprived. Hockey and football had much to offer at that time, including handsome, vigorous guys.
Being part of an on-line writing group for several years provided me with many benefits. But the positives also produced a few negatives.