Dances With Audiobooks

I'm rediscovering, for about the fifth time in the past two years, the joys of listening to audio books. One of the resolutions I made for myself this year was that I would try to read more. I usually have at least two different books on the go at a time, but I'm a slow reader. Finding time to read more is challenging at best.

That's where the beauty of audio books come in. I spend about 45 minutes a day walking and driving to work. That is time I usually spend listening to podcasts, many of which are usually writing related podcasts, and thus time well spent. But, between podcasts, instead of listening to music on my mp3 player, I've started trying to find books that I already own and have had on my "to read" list for a long time, and starting to listen to them.

Late last week I started listening to the audio version of the Douglas Preston/Lincoln Child novel Dance of Death. I got a signed copy of it two years ago and it has sat, since then, on my "to read" pile. (Okay, not technically on my "to read" pile since the pile is imaginary - it has sat on the "signed books" bookshelves) When I was at the library last Thursday night with Alexander and browsing around I discovered a book on CD version of Dance of Death read by Rene Auberjonois (known to most sci-fi geeks like me as Odo on Deep Space Nine -- however, I also fondly remember him in his role on Benson and more recently on Boston Legal (yes, alongside William Shatner, yet another Star Trek collision).

In any case, Auberjonois, a diverse and seasoned actor who has appeared in countless different roles over the decades, has a phenomenal voice that is pleasing and steady and he does a fantastic reading of the novel. I am enjoying this novel far better than the previous Preston/Child novel I read (Still Life with Crows). Perhaps the writing and story are better in Dance of Death or perhaps it's due to the superb reading by Auberjonois keeping me in complete suspense.

In any case, I've rediscovered the joys of listening to books and figure I'll be able to at least double my consumption of books in the next twelves months. I have already reserved copies of 3 different books on CD that I've wanted to listen to for a while now -- methinks that despite my obsession of buying books non-stop, I might actually make a small dent in that ever growing "to read" pile.

HNT - TiT - Farmer Jones And Me

Terror in Toyland (TiT) - An HNT Adventure
by Mark Leslie

Continued from this post

Farmer Jones steered the tractor in Mark's direction, but, still on his toes from the constant attacks, Mark managed to leap to safety . . .


. . . almost.

The tractor clipped one of his legs and Mark fell to the ground. He laid there, stunned and exhausted from the day's events. [Yes, despite the fact that it has taken over a year of semi-regular posts for this storyline, the events of this adventure have all taken place within a period of about an hour and a half.]


Farmer Jones got out of the tractor and said. "I changed my mind. Why run you over with the tractor when I can tear you apart with my bare hands? It would be more fun to kill you that way. And besides, it prolongs this already overly long storyline."

And with those words, he advanced on his still prone victim.

To be continued . . .

7 Things Tag

Imp recently tagged me with a meme in which I have to tell 7 things about myself that I haven't talked about before on my blog. That's going to be tough since I ramble on endlessly about almost everything and regularly repeat myself.

But I'll give it a shot:

1. (And I'm stealing this one from Imp because it's pretty much true for me, too) I used to be terrified of the dentist, but now I quite enjoy trips to the dentist. Okay, I'm stretching the truth. I used to be terrified of the dentist, but now I'm only mildly anxious when I visit. (Oh crap, I think I already blogged about my fear of the dentist - dang, strike one)

2. When I was young, I hated using out houses so much that when we went camping, I would go days without actually having a bowel movement. (Yes, welcome to Mark Leslie's blog where we talk about such high brow subjects as bowel movements)

3. Another thing about when I was young is that I used to think that the smoke stack in Sudbury was actually a cloud making machine. (Oh man, I think I already included that in the 101 things about me -- still unfinished, BTW -- as well as another blog post about Sudbury's largest erection. Sigh. Strike two)

4. Misheard lyrics aren't so common now that you can easily look them up on the internet, but despite being a huge fan of Phil Collins and thinking I knew the words to all his songs, I used to think that when he was singing the words "Oh Lord" in the song "In The Air Tonight" that he was singing the words "hold on."

5. Speaking of lyrics, I never misheard the Jimi Hendrix song "Purple Rain" to have the words "excuse me while I kiss this guy" which was a common mis-hearing of the song. I always knew he was kissing the sky. (Of course, I didn't realize it was drug talk and when I heard the song I tried to imagine him actually puckering up and kissing clouds and things -- or maybe I imagined him standing on tippy toes and trying to kiss that cool narrow blue strip of "sky" that kids often put at the very top of their drawings.)

6. I'm still deathly afraid of the monster under my bed. In fact yesterday evening when Alexander came running upstairs, terrified of the noise the furnace had made when it turned on, I was a little chilled to go down there myself. Stop laughing; I can't help it if I'm a big chicken. (Oh, what's that you say? I've already blogged about the monster under my bed? Dang, dang, dang. I guess that's strike three.

Strike three? I'm out, and I didn't even get to finish my list. Sorry, Imp, I tried.

For those reading this if you want to tag yourself for your own 7 things blog (and good luck to you getting through 7 new points without repeating yourself), go ahead and share this meme with the world. :)

For In That Loss Of Sleep What Dreams Might Come

Because I work full time, I often get up early to get in some short writing time in before heading off for work. Most days it's usually 5:15 or 5:30, allowing myself about half an hour or 45 minutes to get some writing done.

Of course, I usually spend about 15 minutes or so farting around (checking and responding to email -- sometimes even writing related emails, catching up on various social networking platforms, etc) and am often only left with about 15 minutes or perhaps as much as an hour of writing time. (Not counting the days when I get carried away in all the wondrous "farting around" distractions that the internet teases me with constantly)

This morning, however, Alexander woke up crying at about 4:20 from a bad dream. I carried him into our bed so he could snuggle down and fall back to sleep with us. It was close enough to the time I'd been planning on getting up, so I figured I'd just put on some coffee and get writing.

Oh what a phenomenal difference that one hour made.

In that time (including the 15 minutes of farting around) I managed to get half-way through a rewrite of a story that I'd finished about a month ago. I always find it useful to put a new story aside, let it rest while I work on other things, then come back to it with a more detached and slightly critical eye. Of course, in the back of my mind I was also working out particular character details for a secondary character that I knew needed to be fleshed out better in the story. Writers can often write in their head for long stretches of time before putting words down on paper -- this secondary character development was exactly that; while working on other tasks, while driving, while staring into space, I was focusing on this character, exploring what made him tick, questioning his views of the world. All useful "non-writing" tasks that help me when it's time to put pen to paper.

So this morning, as I was working away at this last re-write, I accomplished a good chunk of the work I'd intended. Most other mornings, I barely get started before it's time to start getting ready for work.

Fantastic what that extra time allows -- and it's a lesson I keep having to re-learn. I always forget that I need to give myself some time just to get up to speed -- my writing sessions are often like getting an airplane off the ground. I need to slowly build up speed and then only after I've worked at it for a solid consecutive sequence of time am I ready for a proper "take off."

I keep reminding myself that I started blogging as a means to force myself to write something/anything as a means to warm-up for my writing sessions. But again, it's something I often fall off course with, and have to readjust to regularly. Like the tower sending me notifications to alert me that I'm flying off course again -- see, I'm enjoying the whole flight analogy here -- a fun creative exercise putting some extra wind beneath my wings.

Tonight I'll be setting my alarm for 4:30 again in the hopes that tomorrow I'll be able to take this particular re-write to a perfect four point landing

Remaindered -- And It Feels So Good

Ack! I've just been remaindered!

Let me rephrase that. The science fiction anthology North of Infinity II, has been remaindered.

Having one's book remaindered is usually not a good thing.

For the author having a book remaindered pretty much means the end of any sort of royalties (I double-checked with my friend Rob Sawyer on this -- see his excellent insightful look at remainders from a successful author's POV entitled "Remainders: What do authors get?")

For those unfamiliar with the term, a book is remaindered after it stops selling well in the book trade and the publisher is faced with warehousing a huge volume of copies. Rather than sit on those copies (and pay the increasingly high costs of carrying the stock), they liquidate it at dramatically reduced prices.

Not all remainders, of course, are bad books. I'd even argue that an incredibly high percentage of remainders are great books, in fact. My friend Robert J. Sawyer is a brilliant author, and even his multi-award winning and bestselling novels do occasionally get remaindered once his hardcovers go into paperback. So it's a perfect example that even excellent books can find themselves remaindered. Not always the best for authors, but what a wonderful treat for readers.

Let's walk through the life of a book to understand remainders in a bit more detail.

For example, Stephen King novels regularly get remaindered, and he's a consistently bestselling author. Perhaps you've heard of him. A recent example is his book Cell -- not one of his best, in my opinion, but still a pretty good book that sold fantastically. When the paperback came out a year after it's initial release, retailing in Canada for $11.99, sales of the $34.95 hardcover started to slow down and most bookstores would have returned their hardcover stock to the publisher. So the publisher, now sitting on copies of the hardcover, liquidates it by selling it to remainder wholesalers and bookstores, allowing bookstores to sell it for $9.99.

Now, speaking as a book lover and as a book seller, remainders (also commonly known as Bargain Books) are a win-win situation for bookstores and readers. The margin (difference between the cost and retail selling price of a product) on bargain books tend to be anywhere between 50 and 80%, meaning that if it costs the customer $10.00, the bookstore could have paid as little as $2.00 for the book.

The math is interesting. Normally, books are sold to bookstores as returnable and with pretty limited margins. The margin on most trade books are approximately 40%. Meaning, if the bookstore sold King's novel at the regular retail price of $34.95, they paid $20.97 for it, and made $13.98 margin on it. That margin, of course, usually covers costs such as shipping and handling the product. And handling a book twice -- once to receive it and shelve it then again to pick, pack and return it, pretty much doubles the cost to the bookstore. So that $13.98 margin gets eaten into pretty dramatically once you factor shipping costs and labour into it.

Now in cases like King's Cell, which sat on the bestseller list for a while, large retailers in Canada like Chapters/Indigo/Coles would likely have been selling it for 30% off. Meaning it would be selling to customers for $24.47. Meaning the margin they'd be making would be only about $3.50. (Of course, with bestsellers you make your money not necessarily through high margins, but through rapid volume -- ie, you perhaps only make $3.50 minus shipping handling and labour, bringing that down to maybe $1.00 to your bottom line for each one sold, but if you sell 1000 of them, you've got $1000)

Let's compare this to the same book as a remainder. It lives its life as a hardcover -- then, once the smaller, slicker, cheaper paperback comes out, that poor old hardcover is left behind and stuck in the warehouse. So the publisher remainders it. And the bookstore likely buys it for $2.00 and sells it to customers for $9.99.

From the customer's point of view, ten bucks is significantly cheaper than thirty-five bucks or even the bestseller reduced price of $24. And it's even cheaper than the $12 paperback version of the book. Therefore, the book is all that more appealing to customers, particularly those who like collecting and hanging on to hardcovers. Us book nerds can be funny that way.

And from the bookstore's point of view, they make $7.99 margin on that remainder, which, while lower than the $13.98 margin of the original hardcover, doesn't have some of the additional handling and shipping costs associated with the original (ie, they order it, bring it in and sell it -- there's no picking it and returning it and shipping it back to the publisher -- that one way flow of goods decreases handling costs significantly) -- so if they sell two bargain book copies of it, they'll have made $15.98, which is more than the margin on the original product, and the customers who bought it only shelled out $20.00 for those two copies of the book rather than the original $34.95.

Interestingly enough, the bookstore would usually make a 44% margin on the mass market paperback version of the book, meaning they'd haul in $7.27 for the $12.00 paperback. But that's still less than the margin they make on selling the hardcover for 2 bucks cheaper than the paperback. It becomes a good deal for the seller and the buyer.

As I stated, remainders, or bargain books are a pretty decent win-win situation for both the customer and the bookstore.

But alas, you say -- what about the poor publisher? What about the poor author? As my friend Rob explains on his blog, the author pretty much gets naught.

Except perhaps exposure.

As a giant book nerd, I have discovered many new writers through the joys of remainders and bargain books. I'm not always willing to take a chance on a writer I'm unfamiliar with for $30, but I'll usually be more tempted to try them out for under $10. And I have often gone back and bought other books by authors I've discovered through bargain books and also recommended books by these authors for others to enjoy -- so, hopefully, I've helped increase different author's royalty payments despite their having been remaindered.

And as for North of Infinity II -- well, there wasn't much chance of any of the authors making any royalties off it anyway, so the fact that it has been remaindered is, I think, I great thing.

Now that the book (which used to be $20 in Canada) is available for $4.99 Canadian, it is much more likely to attract new readers -- perhaps folks who might not have checked it out for $20 but will be more tempted now or maybe even folks who never got a chance to see it when it first came out.

Quite simply, this anthology is a steal for $4.99.

It would certainly be worth your while to check it out -- if you do, you'll not only enjoy some great reprinted tales by well known names in the world of science fiction (like Robert J. Sawyer, Andrew Weiner, Nancy Kilpatrick, Douglas Smith and Stephanie Bedwell-Grime) but you'll also hopefully discover the thrill of reading great stories by some writers whose work you might not have seen before such as Robert Beer, Bruce Golden or Zohar A. Goodman. I'm also quite proud to have helped introduce newer writers A.M. Matte, Kimberly Foottit, Karen Danylak and Stephen Graham King to sci-fi readers.

So get out there and buy a copy of this remainder -- then, go check out the other books and stories by the wonderfully talented writers that helps make North of Infinity II a fantastic anthology that Cary Hays of Booklist says is "a good yardstick for the current topography of Canadian sf" or that Elizabeth A. Allen (from Tangent Online) says "deserves a place on your 'To Read' pile."

This week, I'm counting the opportunity to have worked with some truly talented and gifted writers on North of Infinity II and the fact that it's new cross Canada availability at $4.99 will hopefully allow more people than ever to discover this book and enjoy the fruits of their wonderful speculative tales.

HNT - Super Writer

This week's HNT picture is pulled from the archives and was inspired by Lime's response to my posting about the AOL Commercial I was in back in 1999 -- she loved the fact that the director wanted me to take out my contact lenses, put on my glasses and wear a brown vest for the commercial so it would make me look more like a writer.

Lime, the brilliantly talented wit that she is wrote:

Faster than a one liner, more powerful than an extended metaphor, able to leap stacks of rejections in a single bound . . . it's a lit prof . . . it's an editor, NO! It's Super Writer!

I just couldn't let that go without running with it . . .

Mild mannered nerdy book loving book seller by day . . .

Super geeky writer by night!

Thanks for the inspiration, Lime. And Happy HNT! (And for those of you who are eager to see the continuing HNT adventures of Mark vs Darth Tater and the toys in "Terror in Toyland" now that I've converted into super geeky writer again, perhaps there'll be more new episodes coming soon . . .)

For those curious about the whole half nekkidness thing
click the image below to go visit Osbasso and learn more about
Half-Nekkid Thursday...

Wheeling & Stealing

I just read a news short about two men in New York City who were arrested after wheeling a dead friend in an office chair through the streets to a Pay-o-Matic location to try and cash his Social Security cheque.

Apparently David Dalaia and James O'Hare, both 65, pushed O'Hare's dead room-mate Virgilio Cintron's body from a Manhattan apartment to a cheque-cashing store a block away. The body was flopping from side to side as they moved down the street, and the two of them had to keep propping him up while they slowly moved down the street, all of which started to attract attention. When they went inside to cash the cheque, a crowd had gathered outside the cheque-cashing venue.

A detective having lunch at a restaurant next door noticed the crowd and immediately recognized that Cintron was dead. He called uniformed police and EMS. Dalaia and O'Hare are facing fraud charges.

Poor Mr. Cintron. He dies of natural causes and his room-mate immediately schemes to steal from his dead friend. Crappy sort of luck.

But you can't help but smile at the antics of these two. It's sort of a "Banking With Bernie" sequel to the dark humour Weekend at Bernie's movie franchise. I must admit, it does inspire some dark humour/horror ideas in this twisted mind. I mean, if they got away with cashing the cheque, would they have proceeded to at least be courteous to take their friend out for lunch next door?

Focus On My Craft

Each new year brings with it resolutions to do better, be better. I often resolve different things regarding writing goals -- of course, keeping up with all the goals while maintaining a full time job and a fulfilling family life is often difficult. The first thing to often get dropped when push comes to shove, unfortunately, would be my writing time. I often sacrifice sleep to work on different writing projects -- often wishing that I could just forgo a few nights of sleep altogether and plow through some of the longer outstanding projects that have been haunting me for a while now.

One of the things I have resolved to do was to keep between 3 and 5 submissions "out there" or "in play" in the various slush piles of editor's desks, and so far for the beginning of 2008 (and the last few months of 2007) I've been successful with that.

Speaking of trying to focus on my craft, I found a clip from an AOL Canada commercial that I appeared in in late 1999.

I've been an AOL Canada member since the mid 90's, finding their service perfect for my needs. I'm using a DSL connection at home, but the great thing about AOL is that no matter where I travel, in a pinch I can still use my AOL connection via various local dial-up numbers. This is extremely useful when I visit places like my Mom's where there is no internet connection other than a regular phone line.

In any case, I landed this testimonial commercial after submitting my "story" to an AOL Canada contest to "tell us how you use AOL" -- when they contacted me and told me I was one of the winners, I was excited, not sure what prize I would get. When they asked me to appear at an in person interview in Toronto, I had no idea I was walking into a screen test audition until I got there and had to sign a bunch of wavers. But once I walked into the room, they planted me onto a stool in a pool of bright light in front of a camera in an otherwise darkened room and the director and president of AOL Canada interviewed me. When AOL called me a week later telling me they'd like to feature me in a 15 second AOL Canada commercial, I was delighted.

The commercial was shot in early November of 1999 at a farmhouse in Mississauga. The series of commercials (I think there were 8 of them) were all shot on that one weekend in various spots on that property. Mine was shot in an unheated large shed in the back yard, redesigned to look like my writing space.

Francine and I arrived at about 1 PM so I could get into costume and make-up. As they were putting make-up on me I was asked to sign several more forms including my agreedment to pay ACTRA (actor's union) dues. I said, "Wait a minute - this was supposed to be a prize win. I didn't know I had to pay to be in this commercial." The assistant smiled at my naivety and said: "You're going to be getting paid for this." My jaw dropped open at that point. I thought just getting to be in a commercial was payment -- I didn't realize there would be cash involved.

When they brought me to see the director, he said I didn't look enough like a writer and asked me to take out my contact lenses and put on my glasses as well as do something about my shirt. We went back to the trailer, I popped out my eyes (I had the Boston Lens hard contact lenses at that point and had to virtually "pop" them off my eyeballs using pressure on the side of my face) and put on my glasses. They then added a brown vest and returned me to him. He took one look at me and said: "There. Now you look like a writer." (Gee, after all those years of dedication and hard work to hone my writing skills, I didn't realize all it really took was putting on my glasses and an ugly brown vest)

Since the commercial was a testimonial, they couldn't tell me what to say. Sure, they could stage the set (and they did set up a really cool, although unheated writing workshop using a box of materials from my own writing space that I had brought along, including several books on writing that I favoured) and dress me up -- but my words had to be my own.

I was supposed to be filmed at about 4 PM or so, but they were quite behind in the schedule, so I don't think they started recording my interview until about 7 or 8 PM. All that waiting around reminded me of the type of waiting actors often do during rehearsals for stage shows -- and worst of all, during the technical rehearsals and cue to cue run-throughs where it's all about the lights and sounds and set changes and not at all about the actors.

About 8 of us and a whack of cameras and lights were crammed into the small cold shed that evening. The director and most of the crew were draped in fall/winter jackets and between "takes" I was allowed to put on my own jacket -- brrr, what a chilly night, even under those hot lights. I remember the poor make-up girl shivering as she would occasionally re-apply touch-ups to my face between "takes" -- the Director interviewed me for about 45 minutes in all and at the end of it was a 15 second commercial.



A few weeks later my first royalty cheque for the commercial came in the mail. It was to cover the first 4 months or so of the commercial airing on different Canadian networks. Yowsa! It was immediately the most money I'd been paid for anything writing related. The commercial started airing in late 1999 and I remember getting a phone call at work (I was working at Chapters Online in Toronto at the time) from a colleague who I'd been introduced to just the day before -- he called me in the morning telling me he saw me on late night television the night before and was a bit startled, telling his wife: "Hey, that guy. I met him at work yesterday."

The next several months were filled with similar calls and messages from friends all over the place, many of them friends I hadn't heard from in years. (Prior to online networking like my blog, mySpace and Facebook, this was the first time I'd heard from so many people in such a short time)

One good buddy of mine called to say he was in his apartment by himself, puttering around in the kitchen with the television on when all of a sudden he heard my voice droning on in the background. Startled (perhaps thinking I'd snuck in to scare him), he looked over and saw the last few seconds of my commercial. That was a hoot.

Of course, to this day my buddy Mathew Growden never let me forget my goofy line of "focusing on my craft" and often quoted it at the most obscure times over the years.

In all, the commercial was a lot of fun, and as they continued to play it, the royalty cheques continues to roll in. Thank heavens because they helped pay for the really steep car repair bills that happened to slam Francine and I in 2000.

Of course, since doing that commercial, my dream has been to land either a hemorrhoid or diarrhea commercial - because I learned that the actors in commercials for embarassing products get what's known as "humility pay" -- a "top up" of the usual pay because their likeness gets associated with an embarassing ailment.

However, given my age, I'll soon likely be a candidate for a Viagra or perhaps Depends commercial.

HNT - Alexander Leslie Photographer At Large

This year for Christmas, Santa brought Alexander a digital camera.

It's one designed perfectly for a three year old by Fisher Price and has already taken quite the beating (yet still works nicely) - this does two things - it allows Alexander to flex some creative muscle without Francine and I having a stroke watching Alexander handle our digital camera.

As an avid young "Peter Parker" Alexander has enjoyed running around the house and taking pictures of pretty much anything and everything. The digital camera holds about 50 pictures, and it takes him less than 3 minutes to fill it up. There are many great studies of the floors and walls of our house (although I must admit there are some pretty darn cool pictures of the ceiling fan in my Mom's kitchen)

I figured I'd let Alexander's snaps of me be featured in this week's HNT.

Here's a shot of me backlit in my Mom's kitchen. Kind of makes me look like a demented serial killer.

Here's another one of my in my Mom's kitchen, caught in the process of fixing myself a cup of coffee.

And here's one of me that Alexander is in, taken in our kitchen (by Alexander's cousin, my Godchild Madison) Beautiful backlighting, don't you think?

Well that's the way Alexander's camera saw the world this week. From all of us here at "Mark Leslie's Blog" goodnight.

Best Laid Plans

You have to laugh. Otherwise, what else have you got but half your body covered in a vomit mixed concoction of chewed carrots, baloney and milk?

Francine and I had plans to sit back, put our feet up and relax this past new year's eve by watching a couple of movies. (The Simpsons movie, which she bought me for Christmas -- and Live Free or Die Hard, which we rented using a coupon from the Blockbuster gift pack which Santa left in the stocking I'd carefully hung by the fireplace).

It had been a hectic ten days of constant company and multiple travels (driving 6 hours up to Levack to pick up my Mom and Baba and bring them to Hamilton before Christmas, then the following weekend returning them safely home) and when Francine got home from work on the 31st our plan was simple. Get Alexander to bed at a decent time (unlike most of the late bedtimes during the Christmas holidays), sit back, have a fun snack, some fun drinks and watch a couple of movies before ringing in the New Year with Dick Clark on the telly.

Of course, those plans fell through when Alexander started projectile vomiting all over me at about 7:45 PM while I was holding him in the kitchen just prior to putting him to bed. The poor little guy emptied his stomach contents in three very nasty large volume gushes of the putrid, acidic chunky fluid. I stood there, rubbing his back with my one clean hand and telling him it was okay, while Francine ran to the other room to get us some clean towels and wash cloths. We proceeded to strip naked in the kitchen and headed straight into the bathtub to clean up.

Of course, this scenario (location, situation and stomach content volume slightly modified) occurred one more time. After another dual bath and change of jammies, the next few boughts of nausea came with a bit more warning, so I was able to retrieve a small bucket and Alexander was able to aim in the correct direction in time. But it was still a long, difficult evening; we sat up with Alexander, all snuggled together on the couch, him fading in and out of sleep, waking to puke a bit more up, us trying to keep him comfortable, calling Telehealth Ontario (fantastic service, providing free 24 hour access to a registered nurse that can easily help someone decide the next step in treatment - ie, what to do if staying home, whether you should book a doctor's appointment the next day or if you should get to a clinic or emergency room - if more people used this service, we'd have less emergency rooms crammed with idiots and their hang-nails or a mild cough) and talking quietly.

As we watched the New Year rung in (accompanied by CHCH's annual live broadcast of the concert at Niagara Falls - oh man, has Mike Reno, the lead singer of Loverboy ever gone to pot. Looks like someone "turned him loose" at an all you can eat buffet) Francine and I smiled at each other and chatted about how several times in the past few years we've made simple plans that haven't quite fallen through the way we expected.

Like that time, just a few years ago where we spent New Year's Eve with Francine looking on while a woman I'd just met was sticking her finger up my ass. (To make a long story short, we were in the emergency room on the advice of the good folks from Telehealth Ontario - after spending the previous day pushing cars out of snow, and experiencing increasingly intense abdominal pain, there was a fear that I had a hernia. The woman I'd just met was a cute young medical resident who was checking for internal bleeding. At least I'd been wearing my spooky eyes underwear and that helped break the ice. Fortunately, there wasn't internal bleeding and I'd just sprained a groin muscle and inadvertently helped a young resident experience her first rectal probe)

In all seriousness, as 2008 was arriving and Francine and I were sitting up with Alexander, knowing that we were in for yet another long sleepless night of worry and concern for our little Mr. Man, I thought to myself how, despite the fact that our plans fell through and we didn't get to spend the evening relaxing in the manner we'd planned, that I was still spending my New Year's Eve in the company of the two most important people in my life. Sure, the circumstances weren't the greatest. They can't always be. But we were together. And that made all the difference to me.

Happy New Year. May this year find you peace, joy, prosperity and good health. And in those moments where any of those might be lacking, may you find comfort in the proximity and memories of your friends and loved ones.

Favourite Books Read in 2007

I stole the idea of posting the best books I have read this year from Brian Keene's blog. And, like all cool ideas, I thought I'd steal/borrow/liberate it (choose the word you think best fits what I'm doing here) and make my own list.

Following is a list of the top 10 books I read in 2007. They are not necessarily books that came out in 2007, but books that I read (or finished reading) this past year. I read a lot of great books this past year and it was difficult to narrow it down to just 10 that I'd recommend -- but I had to draw the line some where, and if I didn't stop at 10, this post would go on forever.

The books are in no particular order. (Okay, they're in the order that they came to mind when I was thinking about the books that I enjoyed most or that left the greatest impression on me)


The Best Laid Plans: A Novel
by Terry Fallis

I'm not much into political novels, so this first novel by Terry Falls (described as a satirical novel of Canadian politics) caught me off guard. I started looking at it out of curiosity (the author is a McMaster grad and we were considering having him come in for a book signing) and the story hooked me immediately. It's a great book about an unlikely candidate's rise to power in the Liberal party. It has some really funny moments and well crafted characters that stick with you long after you finish reading it.


Rollback
by Robert J Sawyer

Sawyer again reveals his strength as a speculative storyteller in this touching and fantastic tale. On the surface it appears to be a modern version of a tale of "The Fountain of Youth" but this story of a couple who, on their 60th wedding anniversary sign up to have a "rollback" (a new expensive and experimental rejuvenation procedure that makes a person physically 25 again) is wonderfully refreshing and contains interesting thoughts on love, morality and ethics.


Roadshow: Landscape With Drums: A Concert Tour By Motorcycle
by Neil Peart

Peart has created a new genre all his own with his literary musical biographical travel logs. And he keeps getting better with each one. Roadshow is a travelogue of the R30 tour (the 30th anniversary tour of the Canadian rock band Rush) -- Peart covers moments from concerts as well as the motorcycle and travel adventures had with his traveling companions between "work days." Filled with interesting insights into a reluctant celebrities life on the road and poignant notes scribed in his daily journal describing the sights, sounds and smells of his adventures (that "suck while you're having them"), this is a fascinating book.


No Time For Goodbye
by Linwood Barclay

This one isn't like Barclay's previous 4 mystery novels (the wonderfully humourous, zany and suspenseful Zack Walker mysteries). There's no humour in this one, but the suspense and mystery are top notch. A teenage girl who awakes one morning to find her parents and younger brother missing spends the next several decades wondering what happened to them -- were they murdered? If so, who killed them and why? Or did they just all leave, completely abandoning her? If so, what would drive a family to do that? Barclay has created a startlingly great story filled with tension and suspense and even more questions as the mystery is slowly unraveled.


Echo Park
by Michael Connelly

Connelly continues to paint a beautifully haunted portrait of an investigator in Harry Bosch as he reinvestigates a fifteen year old murder discovering that he missed a clue the first time. Bosch's character and Connelly's stories continue to develop and get better with each new novel he writes -- Simply, Connelly never disappoints. Solid, tight, wonderfully written.


The Rising
by Brian Keene

A seriously worried father struggles to make his way halfway across a zombie-filled America to save his son. Brilliant, touching and terrifying, this novel grabbed me immediately and held me in suspense until the very last word -- is Jim's son still alive? If so, will Jim make it and save his son in time? While I'd never been a fan of zombie novels, Keene definitely changed my mind about my misconceptions of what a zombie novel could be.

Twisted: The Collected Stories of Jeffery Deaver
by Jeffery Deaver

In the introduction Deaver states that the beauty of the short story is there are no rules -- and in each tale in this phenomenal collection, he proves it over and over again, much to the reader's delight. I have enjoyed Deaver's novel length writing but think that, his genius ability in the short story, particularly the way in which he is able to masterfully deceive the reader with fantastically crafted twists deserves the highest praise.


A Twist of Malice
by Jean Baxter

A superb collection of short stories filled with murder and mayhem by a Hamilton area writer that is definitely worth discovering. Baxter reveals a sharp wit and wry sense of justice in many of these delightful tales, all laced with just the right touch of malice, but also filled with the foils and emotions of humanity.


Brave Men Run - A Novel Of The Sovereign Era
by Matthew Wayne Selznick

Imagine if John Hughes and Stan Lee collaborated on a novel and that comes close to this incredible first novel by Selznick. Nathan Charters is a misfit, gifted with strange, cat-like abilities that set him apart from his friends and family in this alternative universe set in the mid 1980's.


Theatre of the Mind: Raising the Curtain on Consciousness
by Jay Ingram

With many different details examinations of consciousness, the way our brain operates and how we attempt to make sense of the world, Ingram has crafted another winner. This book is yet another fine collection of thought-provoking and fascinating tidbits from the world of science made accessible to the lay person.

HNT - Favourite HNT of 2007

The last HNT of the year is where we re-post our favourite HNT picture from the previous 12 months. I picked my favourite picture (from this post) which was taken about a dozen years ago of myself and my mother in law Dianne back when Francine and I were living in Ottawa. I have always loved this picture of the two of us because it illustrated the fun, loving relationship the two of us had. This past year has been a particularly difficult one because it's the year that we lost Francine's mom. Looking at pictures like this of us having fun together do help me feel a bit better.


Below I've posted two of the runners up of my other favourite shots from the past year.

When that haunted doll from my mother-in-law's place moved in with us and kept sneaking up behind me when I was least expecting it . . .

And, of course, having Susie guest star on an HNT series of posts (Terror in Toyland) was also a fun highlight for me. (I do hope that we eventually find out what happened to Susie after that horrific train crash)


Well, happy final HNT for 2007. Thanks for visiting (or re-visiting) my blog - hope you are having a fantastic holiday season and all the best to you in the New Year.

Hip Hip Hooray For Christmas Vacation

Having worked in retail for over 15 years I'm still not used to having a Christmas vacation. In most other retail environments, even when I was working at the head office, Christmas was the busiest time of year.

At a university bookstore, however, the first three weeks of September and are the craziest time of year -- it is, of course, also busy the first few weeks of January (second term starting) and in the few weeks leading up to that in December (with a combination of getting textbooks ready for January as well as dealing with higher volumes of pre-Christmas traffic).

But it's still nothing like a regular retail Christmas and the madness of Boxing Day, etc. Nosiree, McMaster is closed until January 2nd and I'm officially on Christmas vacation.

This year, we kicked off the vacation with a father and son whirlwind road trip. Alexander and I rented a van (a 2008 Chevy Uplander mini van) and headed north on Saturday on the 6 hour hike up north of Sudbury to pick up Baba (my Grandmother) and Baba-Jean (my Mom, Alexander's Grandmother) and bring them back to our house for Christmas on Sunday. 6 hours in the car on Saturday, followed by 6 and a half hours in the car on Sunday (more passengers often calls for one or two more "pee break" stops)

It was the first time that Alexander and I had gone on such an extended roadtrip with just the two of us, and we were prepared for fun: the van was loaded with lots of snacks, a DVD player, tons of Baby Einstein, Winnie The Pooh, Max and Ruby and Toopee and Binoo movies, and pretty much every single Rush CD that I own. It was a long drive, and we only stopped once at the half-way (3 hour) mark to have a fun McDonald's lunch in Parry Sound.

I alternated between listening to the radio (I quite like "Moose FM" which you can get within an hour on each side of Parry sound - and I'm still a huge fan of Q92 in Sudbury - this small time radio station has most larger city radio stations beat by a mile with an actual honest to goodness changing/rotating play list. Something that is rare nowadays on popular radio stations) and listening to Rush CD's. When Alexander needed a distracting break, I cranked the Rush and we did air guitar and air drums together, both giggling madly. Of course, the lyrics from the Rush album Permanent Waves never felt more appropriate. "Off on your way, hit the open road, there is magic at your fingers." "The Spirit of Radio" indeed.

Alexander did exceptionally well considering the extended duration in the car within a two day period and the fact that his mother wasn't with us. (I don't think the two of us have ever gone away overnight anywhere before without Francine - but now that I know he's okay with it, I'm thinking it's time we check out camping this summer - just the boys). Francine stayed home to whip the house into shape for our Christmas company, with guests coming over Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day, there was a lot of prep work to do, a tons of organizing to be taken care of. (And all the best work gets done when the boys stay completely out of her way)

One of the highlights on the whirlwind overnight trip was visiting the Parker's house in Levack. It's at the end of Valley Road and for years has been an annual Christmas highlight, with a continually growing fantastic display of festive lights.

The house is at the very end of a street, beyond which is the black darkness of wilderness. Levack, one of the communities in the town of Onaping Falls (Er, I should say, ex-town, since in 2001 it got absorbed into the Regional Municipality of Sudbury) is a small town, one in which you can actually see the stars at night (because there are no bright city lights to diffuse the clear view of the night sky). So it's quite interesting to see the warm and cheery glow set against the pitch darkness behind.

Alexander, being a connoisseur of Christmas lights and decorations, gives the Parker house in Levack a whopping 12 out of 10 points for creativity, excitement and the sheer joy looking at those beautiful lights and decorations bring. Not only is the house, the sides and top of the house decorated, but the decorations sprawl up the hill to the back of one side of the house and extend on up the side yard to the giant shed where all the decorations are stored during the non-Christmas months. It is a stunning view, and tends to grow by one or two new decorations each year.

The return road trip also went off without a hitch. And even the morning's steady stream of pouring rain (a rainshower on Dec 23rd? How un-Christmas-like can you get?) did not deter my sense of Christmas cheer.

It's still early morning, Francine is getting ready to head off to work and everyone else is still sleeping while I sip a cup of coffee and get ready for the day.

Merry Christmas. Regardless of how you celebrate (or don't celebrate) the holiday season, may you find much peace, joy and love.

Da Count - Oral Storytelling

Last night, Francine and I went to see Stuart McLean's Vinyl Cafe Christmas Concert. It has become a tradition to go see Stuart's Christmas show, as I think this is our fifth one. Stuart used to do a Hamilton show every second year, but these last two year's he has done one each December.

Awesome. As always.

For those who don't know Stuart McLean, he is the host of CBC Radio's Vinyl Cafe program which we usually listen to Sunday's at noon while doing housework (although I tend to skip vacuuming during the program, as, for some strange reason, I find it difficult to hear with the vacuum running - can't understand why). The show contains a variety of personal stories and travelogues from Stuart, an eclectic sampling of music, often from under heard yet brilliant new Canadian talent that Stuart helps share with Canadians, and of course the Dave and Morley stories.

It was the Dave and Morley stories that first attracted me to Stuart's show. Dave is the owner of a small fictitious record (yes, actual vinyl albums) shop in downtown Toronto called The Vinyl Cafe. The stories involve Dave, his wife Morley (who works in theatre), their daughter Stephanie, son Sam, their dog Arthur, and a slew of neighbours and friends. The stories are delightful and hilarious and often touching and poignant. Stuart has a naturally wonderful oral storytelling ability -- and although the musical talent on last night's live show was phenomenal, the highlight was hearing two completely brand new Dave and Morley Christmas stories.

There is a relatively new Vinyl Cafe podcast available here. For those of you outside of CBC's broadcast area, I urge you to check out the podcast. You won't be disappointed. In fact, I'm pretty sure you'll be delighted and continue to listen to the ongoing brilliant stories by one of Canada's finest storytellers and be tempted to seek out the various wonderful Vinyl Cafe CD's and books. Seriously, go listen now, seek out any of the wonderful Christmas episodes (including the now legendary "Dave Cooks The Turkey" story. You can thank me for it later.

So in any case, this week I'm counting Stuart McLean and the continual treat of the oral storytelling tradition that he infuses into our world. The art of oral storytelling is a special thing, one I am very proud to be able to enjoy, and the man certainly has refined the art of it. So, thanks Stuart. You have given Francine and I a great tradition (both our weekly listens to the show as well as the annual Christmas Concert performance) that we are looking forward to passing along to our son.

And to quote Mr McLean: "So long for now."

HNT - Gift of the HNT 2007

As has become tradition in the land of HNT, Osbasso has decreed that this week's theme shall be the "Three Wishes" -- we are to pick three HNT folks whom we don't know well and suggest gifts for them.


I've tried to pick people whom I don't personally know or have had any in depth email exchanges with and use the three gift HNT as a chance to read their blogs in more detail and try to find something that I think they would like for Christmas this year.

T K Kerouac

TK is a "neighbour" actually -- based on readings from her blog (which is always fun and playful) she likely lives within an hour drive of me. But, apart from crossing each other's blogs, most often on Thursdays, we haven't met in person and don't know each other.

TK gets a limo to arrive early one Friday morning to pick up her, her daughter and a small group of close friends to take them all into Toronto for a full day of shopping, then a fun filled girl's night on the town. Apart from being equipped with several beverages of choice, and a fine selection of music to listen to, the limo would also contain a handful of digital cameras so the group could click away and take pictures of the day's adventure which I'm sure would end up on her blog.

Charlie

Charlie is another HNTer whose blog I occasionally bump into on Thursdays and other days. We're not at all geographically close, as she does live "across the pond" but I've always admired her sense of adventure, creative spirit and the stunning artistic photographs she takes and posts on her blog.

I tried to think of something fun and cute and useful as a gift for Charlie, or maybe something that would help support or inspire her creative energy, but all I can wish for her at this time, short of a Christmas miracle, where her father's cancerous tumours start to recede and disappear, is an ability borrowed from a favourite Rush song "Time Stand Still" -- the ability to "freeze this moment a little bit longer; make each impression a little bit stronger."


Instead of picking a third person, I thought it would be a real treat if I could give the following pair of gifts to ALL of the HNTers out there, and make it really simple.

Two people whom I've "met" through HNT and whom I admire for so many reasons are Osbasso (the HNT master himself) and Lecram Sinun (more properly known as the genius playwright Marcel Nunis).

These two men have given so much not only to the blogging world (through social networking events such as HNT and Da Count) and to many of us, but they've also contributed great creative performances in their non-blogosphere lives -- For that reason, I think it would be a real special treat for all HNTers to have a chance to listen in person to Osbasso's Symphony perform, and then head on over and get a chance to see a performance of one of Lecram's plays. Okay, I'm being selfish here, because that's certainly a gift I'd like for myself, but it is something I've love to share with all of you HNTers out there . . .

To everyone in HNT land, here's wishing you a Merry Christmas and all the peace, joy and love that the season can hold.

And They Shouted Out

Alexander is quite enjoying singing along to various different Christmas carols -- and I have to admit -- for someone who is only 3 he sure does have a heck of a lot of the lyrics of many different songs down pretty good.

He had to learn two songs for a performance at a local church with his daycare centre a few weeks ago -- an absolutely adorable evening -- and he did quite well. He practiced hard and was quite delighted to be singing with his group of friends. I enjoyed watching him come onto the stage -- and even though I was a couple of aisles away from Francine, trying to get a bit closer to the stage to snap off some pictures, I knew Francine was saying "fix his hat, fix his hat" quietly under her breath because this big giant Santa hat was half over his eyes as he walked out onto the stage and immediately started looking for us in the audience.


I've circled him in yellow in the picture below. There was a cute moment during one of the two songs when one very excited little boy on stage started yelling the song out at the top of his voice, completely drowning out all the other children. Without stopping his own singing, it was entertaining watching Alexander, skewed Santa hat, leaning forward and trying to see who it was who was being so rude.

I loved seeing him perform, and he did great, but have to admit the proudest moment was when he spotted me standing up at the side of the hall and gave me a hearty wave. He didn't appear at all nervous when performing -- I guess he hasn't inherited his father's stage fright.

But Alexander hasn't limited his singing of Christmas Carols to those official times that he is on stage. Nosiree. Like his father, he can be found singing along throughout the day while walking, playing, driving in the car or even in the middle of conversations.

One of the songs he's been singing regularly is "Rudolph The Red Nose Reindeer."

I have to smile every time he sings it, because, although he has about 98% of the song lyrics down perfectly, when he gets to the part of the song that goes . . .

Then all the reindeer loved him,
as they shouted out with glee:
"Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer,
you'll go down in history!"

. . . he sings the words: "and they shouted out quickly!"

I think I prefer Alexander's version of the song. It matches the pace with which he belts out the tune (quickly) and it makes a bit more sense. I mean, those reindeer were mean to him his whole life and are only now friends with him because he was able to famously get Santa out of a jam. I doubt they'd be gleeful for Rudolph's success, but given their fickle nature, saying they "shouted out quickly" suggests a sudden change of heart or 360 in their attitude -- so in my mind "quickly" works a lot better.

Given his affection for singing Christmas themed songs, I wonder if, like his father, he might delight in singing random Christmas Carols at the wrong time of year, like, say belting out "Walking In A Winter Wonderland" in the middle of July or breaking into "Up On The Rooftop" in the spring -- only time will tell I suppose . . .

Like Father Like Son

Last night we let Alexander watch a couple of Christmas specials that were playing on CBC. We caught the last 5 minutes of "How The Grinch Stole Christmas" and "Frosty The Snowman"

Francine and I had to console the poor little guy at the moment when Frosty is found melted down to a puddle. The look on his face was complete devastation, and he was on the verge of breaking into tears as little Karen knelt on the floor weeping over her melted friend.

Fran kept tell him. "It's okay, it's okay. Santa is going to save him." But the little guy wasn't to be consoled until the moment Santa moved the magic Christmas snow outside and placed that hat upon his head again.

Interesting that my son wept (or came close to tears) at the same part that had always (and still does) make me all weepy. Of course, he's only 3. I have no good excuse; particularly since I've seen the cartoon several dozen times. It's kind of like that scene when E.T. dies -- sure, you know he'll come back to life, but man are those few minutes ever hard to bear.

It's a good thing he didn't see the entire "Grinch" movie because, like his father, he might have run screaming from the room, terrified of that evil Grinch character. Brr, that evil grin still gives me shivers . . .

Silly Christmas Lyric Meme: Silver Bells

Last year I started a silly Christmas lyric meme and thought I would give it another shot with a different song to analyze because, well, just because, I heard a Christmas song that I've heard a thousand times before and it made me think . . . (feel free to play along and share your own silly thoughts about Christmas lyrics on your own blog)

The Rules: Pick a Christmas lyric that you've always had a question about and discuss it. Then either tag one or more people or either tag nobody and invite your readers to tag themselves and enjoy discussing the subject on their own.

The Song: Silver Bells (written by Ray Evans & Jay Livingston, sung by countless others . . .)

Lyrics In Question: "And on every street corner you'll hear: Silver bells, silver bells, it's Christmas time in the city."

The Comment: I know that there's a medical condition in which people perceive one sense as another, so they can perhaps smell colours, see sounds or hear physical stimulation. But apart from this rare disorder, I've always wondered how, in this song, you can hear "silver bells" on every street corner.

I mean, you should easily be able to hear sleigh bells or just some sort of bells in general -- but how, upon hearing them, does one know that they are silver?

Now I have a buddy with a specially trained and very sensitive ear. We'll call him Steve. He can detect subtle nuances in audio stimulus; so I'm considering doing an experiment and taking let's say 3 or 4 of the very same bells that give the exact same ring and painting them different colours, one of those colours being silver, of course, and seeing if he can tell the difference. I mean, if anyone can, Steve will be able to and will thus be able to put a rest to my pondering of these Christmas lyrics.

Tagging: Anyone who wants to play along. (Go ahead, don't be shy. Tag yourself. It feels good.)


Feel free to use the "Cousin Eddie" image by copying the following code and replacing the '(' and ')' with '<' and '>' :

(a href="http://markleslie.blogspot.com/2006/12/mark-leslies-silly-christmas-lyric.html")(img src="http://static.flickr.com/136/321235351_90abf16624_m.jpg" alt="Mark Leslie's Silly Christmas Lyric meme" /)

Egg, Bacon and Spam

I tend to browse through my spam folder every few days to see if anything from friends or people I want to hear from made it in there. Occasionally, good and important email does and I'm able to retrieve it -- however, along the usual spam emails about increasing my penis size or dramatically reducing my mortgage, there are some real gems that I just had to share.

Check out these SUBJECT lines from recently received spam . . .


"Santa will bring more length and strength to your willy"

and

"Turn your weewee into a real monster"

Wow, Santa has really diversified lately, and I just love the fact that this second one uses the term "weewee" - now there's a word we just don't use enough of in everyday conversation. I'm going to see if I can find an occasion to bring it up when talking to people in the next few days.

HNT - Oh Christmas Treat

One of our favourite movies to watch each Christmas season is National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation -- arguably the best, most re-watchable of the movies about Clark Griswold and his family.

One of the many great things about the movie is the soundtrack. Last year, I searched high and low to try to find it for Francine. I wasn't able to buy the Christmas Vacation sound track for her, so I did the next best thing. Using a little bit of creative sound recording from the DVD as well as purchases made of albums and single song downloads from iTunes, I recreated it (and added in my own little touches -- either favourites or music from other Christmas shows we enjoyed watching over the years, such as Lethal Weapon, The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer and A Charlie Brown Christmas)

Here's the cover I created for the CD:


And here's the lineup of tracks on the CD:

• 1. Christmas Vacation (Cartoon Version) by Mavis Staples
• 2. Jingle Bell rock by Bobby Helms
• 3. It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas by Bing Crosby
• 4. ("Something Really Nice" - Cousin Eddy)
• 5. Here Comes Santa Claus by Gene Autry
• 6. ("The Shitter Was Full" - Cousin Eddy)
• 7. Hey Santa Claus by The Moonrays
• 8. That Spirit of Christmas by Ray Charles
• 9. ("It is Goooood" - Cousin Eddy)
• 10. Mele Kalikimaka by Bing Crosby
• 11. Mister Grinch by Thurle Ravensroft
• 12. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen by Bare Naked Ladies
• 13. Ave Maria by Jenifer Mclaren
• 14. Let It Snow by Diana Krall
• 15. A Holly Jolly Christmas by Burl Ives
• 16. Christmas Time Is Here by Vince Guaraldi

Of course, I realize that I'm violating Osbasso's theme for this week, the Christmas Tree themed HNT. I figured my Christmas Vacation themed post might be enough (given that I'm posing as Clark Griswold in the photo and the Griswold Family Christmas Tree is a huge part of the movie), but to keep completely in the spirit of things, and to give those seeking a little HNT skin thrill, I'll drag out a few ghosts from Christmases Past . . .

My First HNT Christmas picture from 2005 called "Bare Naked For The Holidays" - a reflection of myself in an ornament on the tree in our basement rec room. See original post here.


And the next one you'll have to click on to view -- From Dec 14, 2006 - "Francine's Christmas Fantasy" - me posing in nothing but a tool-belt beside the Christmas Tree in our living room. See original post here.

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