Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Things we can’t do a thing about...

...or to be more gramatically correct, things about which we can’t do a thing.

Blechta here in snowy Toronto.

I often tease people in foreign climes about the weather here in Toronto since a shocking number of people think “Canada” and then automatically think “snow” for some reason. I wrote to someone just last week: “Well, the weather here is much better than usual. We’re down to a mere eight feet of snow and the polar bears have left town about two weeks sooner than expected. It really is shocking how much damage they do. We had four metal garbage cans torn to shreds this winter, two great danes went missing down the street, and several of our friends have been trapped for hours in their cars with the bears trying to chew their way in. The authorities really should do something about it.”

I went on in this manner for another paragraph or two. I don’t know whether my correspondent knew I was pulling her leg. Once, we had friends visit from the UK in May (when it’s quite warm and the gardens are in full bloom, and due to my stories about the weather, they brought parkas! And gloves!! And cute, knitted caps!!! My wife still hasn’t forgiven me — neither have they.

Well, I guess the fates took notice and I am now being punished. On the week that we’d planned to get our yard in order, the vegetable garden ready (even planting a few early vegetables), and the patio set up and ready for those warm spring days and slightly chilly but still wonderful spring evenings, it’s minus four celsius and snowing. It snowed yesterday and it’s going to snow tomorrow, for heaven’s sake! I am being punished, I tell ya, and the rest of southern Ontario got dragged into it. I am so sorry about that everyone. I hereby swear to never again tell whoppers about our Canadian weather. I will strive for 100% accuracy at all times. Honest!

What does all this have to do with crime writing? Not a heck of a lot, but I’m just feeling cold and miserable, wrapped in my down jacket, boots, gloves, and toque firmly in place as I shiver in my tiny garret, typing this out.

If there’s one thing being an author has taught me, it’s the value of patience. As writers, we wait and wait and wait for publishers to evaluate and decide on our manuscripts, pronouncing eventually their considered opinions about our beautiful literary offspring. It’s hard to spend days, months, years, waiting for the mailman, or your ISP, more than likely these days, to deliver the verdict. It’s never far from your mind on a daily basis. Will today be that day?

So authors learn to wait — just like the shivering robins and I are waiting for spring to return.

7 comments:

Vicki Delany said...

Here in Nelson they celebrated my arrival with sunny skies and warm temps.

Rick Blechta said...

Bitch...

Donis Casey said...

It's 92 degrees F. here today. I'm just saying,

Susan D said...

Sadly, my crocuses, having bravely stuck their heads up out of the earth, are indeed shivering the snow.

Meanwhile...

"...feeling cold and miserable, wrapped in my down jacket, boots, gloves, and toque firmly in place as I shiver in my tiny garret, typing this out."

Uh, why not just turn the furnace back up?

Rick Blechta said...

Hey, I'm a fiction writer, and while I'm not lying about the miserable non-spring weather we're suffering through (I found out last night that I've also dragged Quebec, New York, Vermont and Maine into this), I should be allowed a bit of fiction to paint my picture. I'm miserable enough without having that taken away!

Thanks for weighing in, Susan. My crocuses have disappeared back into the ground and the robins have all flown south again. And now I've heard that the polar bears are again moving into the city, looking for food.

There I go again, making things up. Sorry...

Debby (Deborah Turrell) Atkinson said...

I guess I'll skip details about the weather here. I am wearing socks, though.

Rick Blechta said...

OMG! You're having to wear (gasp) socks? Next thing you're going to tell us is that you had to put an extra blanket on the bed!

Oh, the misery!

(Please see comment to Vicki above)

;)