Maureen Bush

Sunday Morning

Had a cold, feeling better, up at 6:00 am Sunday morning. House quiet, made coffee, sat and wrote. A perfect way to start the day.

Maureen

Spring?

It’s March 2, and it’s been warm and melty for two weeks. I’ve spotted a few things growing in my garden – some garlic greens close to the house on the south side, and daffodil tips pushing their way through a layer of leaves on the east side. And if I look at the grass where the snow has just melted and tilt my head just right, I can convince myself I see green.

Now, I know that anyone who knows Calgary, or who’s up to their eyeballs in snow, might not believe me, so I’ve attached proof (see photo).

As a gardener living in a bizarre climate, I’ve decided that the very first signs of green mean it’s the beginning of spring (not that we won’t have more snow, of course). And so I now declare that spring has arrived in Calgary.

Maureen

O Frabjous Day!

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!
She chortled in her joy

Eric Orchard is doing the cover for the soon-to-be-renamed There’s a Witchdoctor In My Grandmother’s Bathroom (Orca, Fall 2010). He did Feather Brain, and I adore it. I begged for Eric again, and it’s finally organized. I’m so pleased.

http://ericorchard.blogspot.com/

Maureen

Character Murder

I’ve just finished the first round of editing for There’s A Witchdoctor In My Grandmother’s Bathroom (which will definitely be renamed).

My editor said “I think you should get rid of Miri.” (She’s a minor character in the story.) Since my first response was, “Who’s Miri?”, I decided I couldn’t argue with the idea. (Yeah, that was a bad moment. In my own defence, I hadn’t read the manuscript for a while).

So I cut her out. Deleted her. It was strange and sad and absurdly powerful. It was also easy, so I guess she really didn’t need to be there.

Another weird writing moment.

Maureen

Monsters and Metaphors

Metaphors are unfortunately literal to my younger daughter. If someone says, “It’s raining cats and dogs,” she looks up at the sky and imagines puppies falling.

I asked her for an example, and she said, “It’s hard to pull off the top of my head.” I was grossed out. Then she added, “Keep your eye on the ball is agonizing. But Keep your eyes peeled is worse.”

Now I’m doing it too.

And she’s infected me with monsters.

She draws monsters, especially in the corners of her school notes. I’ve been knitting monsters, and now they’re inhabiting the corners of our living room.

We’re living surrounded by monsters and metaphors.

Maureen