The day after the 3-Day Novel Contest.

Done. Oh, yes, friends, I’m done. I finished yesterday afternoon, looked up, looked around, and thought oh, that’s it…I’m done now. It was somewhat anti-climactic. No balloons fell from the ceiling. No confetti. No banners.

But there was that quiet satisfaction – mixed with incredulity – in knowing that I made it through. That I now have a ninety-three page novel, though you should picture me making air quotes when I say that. I had some time to edit during the afternoon, and then I decided that I was well and truly finished.

I had dinner alone in the dining room. Very alone. There were eleventy-zillion people here over the weekend for that string quartet competition, but they all left on Monday morning. And now the place is pretty much empty. There’s at least one other arts program person here – I met him on Saturday morning – but I haven’t seen him in days. There are a good forty mathematicians and they eventually showed up, too, but I rather think that they’ve got a ‘no arts program girls allowed’ rule when it comes to the dinner table.

Not that I’m complaining. Some residencies have been rather frenetic – lots of people, lots of conversation. That sort of thing. Busy all the time. This one is quite quiet. Not laid-back – can’t say that after spending the long weekend writing a 20,462 word novel – but quiet. Not in a bad way, either.

I’ve got a couple more days here (and twenty-nine dollars left in my meal plan – how did that happen?). Now that the frenzy of the 3-Day Novel Contest is behind me, I’m going to spend some time thinking about my writing – my regular writing – and working on it. I’m going to print out the manuscript at Community Services today, track somebody down to sign the witness statement for the contest, and mail it. Then I’m going to do the walk of shame and go to the Registrar’s Office to add money to the meal plan (I never have a satisfactory explanation as to how I manage to eat my way through it so quickly).

And tonight? Dinner with @babybanff and family. I’m really looking forward to that!

I’m going to spend the morning hanging out in the reading room at the Paul D. Fleck Library. It’s quite fancy. Not at all like the way it was when it was in the basement. Technically, I’m writing, not reading, but the librarians aren’t wise to me yet. I have my ebook with me in case I’m challenged by them, though: “ARE YOU READING? YOU BETTER BE READING!”

“Fanny Herself by Edna Ferber, ma’am!”

Day two of the 3-Day Novel Contest at the Banff Centre.

Last night? I had a nice dinner (high class macaroni and cheese, fish, and salad – frankly just the very thing I wanted, even though I didn’t know it until I sat down with my plate) and went for a walk, then came back and got back to writing. Slept very well, thank you – remembered to turn the radiator down, took the old outline off the wall so that it wouldn’t fall down by itself and scare the bejezus out of me.

The writing is going well. I’ve hit forty pages (double spaced, twelve point font, which is more or less the standard for the competition) and I’m still going. There’s a day and a half left, and from what I can see, I’m on track to finish. Barring catastrophe, I’ll finish.

The Banff International String Quartet Competition wraps up today, too. I haven’t been able to see any of the performances – what with the three days to write a novel and all – but people here are really enjoying it, and from what they’re saying, it’s been a very successful venture this year.

It’s cold and raining this morning. I had my breakfast in Vistas – scrambled eggs, yum – and read for a little bit – Edna Ferber’s Fanny Herself – and went for a short walk. The pink gloves are just the ticket, as is the woolen scarf I brought. I can see snow on top of Sulphur Mountain and Cascade Mountain when the clouds clear, and I think it’s going to be a chilly day.

Suits me just fine. The plan is to pour it on, writing-wise, and try to make it to seventy-five pages (lofty goal) or sixty-five pages (reasonable goal).

Back to work for me!

The calm before the 3-Day Novel storm.

I’m here, and I’m putting the final touches on my outline for the 3-Day Novel Contest. I arrived in Banff yesterday afternoon and stayed in town so that I could wander around a bit and do a little bit of shopping. The hotel? It was nice, but the room was chilly and a little bit noisy. The buffet breakfast was good – not great, though – and I was pretty happy when the Banff Centre-mobile showed up this morning to get me.

Banff is a nice place to amble around, though. The weather was good, and there were a lot of people taking in the sights. I went up the gondola on Sulphur Mountain last night, too. It’s one of those touristy things to do, and the view is always worth it.

I mean, how often do you get to zoom up to the top of a mountain? Not so often. And at the top, I had myself some hot chocolate.

It was a tad nerve-wracking on the way back, though. The gondola cars had stopped…I never did find out if it was intentional or if something had broken down. I’ve heard that it takes a good three hours to walk down, and frankly, if I walked down, it would probably take thirty-three hours.

Fortunately, though, things were back up by the time I was ready to go back down.

So I’m back at the Banff Centre! The Kinnear Building is finished, and I’ll post some pictures soon. The library has moved over, and it’s pretty darn amazing. The Banff String Quartet Competition is running right now, and there are a lot of foursome walking around. Go figure. At lunch today, I listened in on an impassioned debate on the kinds of wood you can use to make a bow and the benefits of oxidation. Dark sound versus…the other kind of sound. I must admit that most of it went right over my head, but it’s nifty to hear discussions like that. Lots of people are out to watch, too, and they look like they’re havin g a good time. I’ll be skipping the concerts, though – on account of writing a novel in seventy-two hours this weekend.

There won’t be much in the way of posting from me during the weekend. My zombie love story (but not in the way you think…but sort of the way you think) needs to be written, and I’m bound and determined to turn in a completed manuscript by the end of Labour Day weekend.

In the meantime, you can read my latest short story: ‘I Bet I Can Find a Million People Who Hate Slab Cakes‘ over at Hobart Pulp.

I’m hoping to finish the outline this evening, and then get off to bed early…because tomorrow, the writing begins! It’s wonderful to be back at the Banff Centre again.

Thinking about the painfully sequential series of short stories.

The painfully sequential short stories (aka “the novel”) are going well. I’m on to sequential short story three, and averaging about a thousand words a night. I’ve heard – and Brian the publisher says – that writers should be putting out two thousand words a day. I just don’t know if I’m able to do that, though. Between studying and working on term papers at lunch, working full-time, and writing in evenings, I’d say that the thousand – give or take – is probably the limit.

On weekends, I’ve been trying to write a bit more…though even that is a bit spotty, because I spent this last weekend reading for the accursed term paper. I’m nearing the end of my research for the paper – I worked on it today at lunch, and I’ve moved from the literary theory texts to working on the short stories I want to write about. So the weekend was spent wrapping up the academic-whosiwhatsit research. I did think a lot about the plot, though.

And that’s something that I learned from conversations with other writers at the Banff Centre: that you don’t necessarily have to be writing to call it writing. It was at dinner with Susan Swan and Brian Johnson – perhaps one of those most valuable experiences of all of my Banff Centre residencies, because it opened my eyes to the idea that the writing process is more than just pen to paper. It includes reading – a lot of it – and a lot of thought. It’s okay to sit and think about a story. Not okay to turn on the tv and pretend to think. It’s okay to read, too. Less okay to read TMZ and check emails.

I think I would expand that to say that it’s okay to feel awkward and uncertain about calling something a novel. Less okay to feel so uncertain and awkward that it doesn’t get written.

Some lovely news.

I made it into the Leighton Artists’ Colony at the Banff Centre! It’s definitely excellent news, and I’m just thrilled about it. I’m going in 2011…I applied well in advance, and it’s going to be quite a ways away until I’m there…but it’s nice to have something like that to look forward to.

What’s even better about it is that it marks a movement, for me, into a new phase of my writing. The colony is for professional artists or ‘emerging’ artists with promise. And apparently that includes me. Moving towards that ‘emerging’ category is a really big deal, and that means a lot to me…and especially when that recognition comes from a place like the Banff Centre.

It’s very, very cool. I don’t think it’s really quite sunk in yet.

It’s going to be quite a while before I’m there – I’d applied for dates in February of 2011, but I’m pushing that back to the end of the summer so that I can have some nicer weather. The studios are in a bit of a forest, and I think it would be nice to work with the windows open and hear the wind in the trees.

In a couple of weeks, I’m going to be speaking to a Writers’ Guild of Alberta writing group for teenagers about writing genre fiction, too. That feels kind of weird, too, because I haven’t really thought of myself as being at that stage where I begin dispensing advice and talking about how I write. I think it might be a bit disappointing for them to hear that I still work a regular day job, but the coordinator assures me that it’s good for them to hear it.

Wow. Just…wow. I think I might be getting closer to being a real writer, don’t you think?

In which I freak out.

Holy cow. Evolve is being featured in the paper tomorrow, and the online version of the story just launched, too.

Freaking out just a bit. I’m glad there was a good plug for the Banff Centre, too. I know they’ll be happy about that!

The book launches tomorrow at Pages on Kensington at 7pm.

So I finished the manuscript.

Well. I’ll post more tomorrow about my week, but for now, please enjoy the following video. Me. Finishing the last short story of my collection. And doing my obligatory chair dance.

Eh? Eh? Isn’t that the best chair dancing you’ve ever seen?

I have a feeling I’ve automatically made that song unpopular. You have some teenagers? You don’t like them singing that song? Show them the video of me chair dancing, and I guarantee they’ll never listen to that song again.

My glasses are smudged, my hair is askew, and I’ve been walking around with a pencil stuck in my hair.

Day four of the writing residency. I was up early this morning – I wanted to see the early morning sun on the mountains. Also, somebody on the fourth floor of Lloyd Hall had a case of the six a.m heaves, and it was quite quiet otherwise, so I was awake. I’m fine, thank goodness. But somebody was feeling poorly today. So it seemed like a good idea to just get up and get an early start to the day (I reported the six a.m heaver to Community Services today, just in case somebody is truly ill with something…I’d hate to think of somebody sick with a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door – how on earth would you get crackers and ginger ale that way? Community Services said they’d check it out).

It is freaking beautiful here in the morning. Better than sunset.

Totally worth being up at the crack o’ dawn.

It feels a bit strange to say to people that I’m working on a collection, or that I’m finishing up a manuscript. But the truth of a writing residency is that you need to have a blurb ready – a short answer to the ‘what are you working on?’ question that doesn’t a) minimize the work, b) sound incomprehensible, c) make you sound like a self-aggrandizing dork. I’ve been saying that I’m pulling together a short story collection, and it still feels a bit scary-exciting to say that I’m finishing a manuscript. But I am. It’s exciting. I know it. I love it.

The work stress has melted away, too. I’m feeling pretty darn relaxed and content.

Nice, eh? I’m sleeping well, eating so well that I had to make a call to the Registrar to add money to my meal plan, and I think the quality of my writing right now is phenomenal (even though that makes me sound like a self-aggrandizing dork when I say it). But there’s an air to a place like the Banff Centre – a feeling that it’s okay to brag a bit about your work, to forget that you’ve got a regular day job and imagine what it would be like to be Alice Munro or Stephen King and just write all the time. And I feel okay with saying that my work is going really, really well.

I finished reading the 2009 Pen/O. Henry Prize stories, and I was looking through the comments from the writers and the judges. And this caught my eye…it’s from Anthony Doerr, on one of the prize selections:

If it works, a good short story can show us something thorny and sublime and fabulously complex beneath the text, something trembling behind the little black symbols on the white page, some truth we can only feebly grasp, as if we are peering
up at the stars through thin clouds.

Writing stories is not, despite appearances, about spending lots of time with oneself. It’s about learning to be able to look beyond the self, beyond the ego, to enter other lives and other worlds. It’s about honing one’s sense of empathy so that a story might bridge the gap between the personal and the communal.

Aha! says I. That’s what I should be trying for when I write short stories. It seems to encapsulate the experience of writing short fiction – or reading good short fiction. And I’m hoping that my short stories will someday come close to measuring up to that standard.

I’ve got one more full day of work ahead of me. I think I’ll be up early again. Work through the day. Have dinner in the dining centre, and then go to watch the opening ceremonies for the Olympics – the lounge on the second floor of Lloyd Hall has been booked for it, so they’ll be showing it on the big screen projector. A girl could even hope for popcorn. Then maybe work a little more, and then call it quits. Saturday morning will be for breakfast, for a walk, some journal writing, and maybe some reading if there’s time. And then it’s home.

But not quite yet. One more day of writing ahead of me. My glasses are smudged, my hair is askew, and I’ve been walking around with a pencil stuck in my hair. And it all feels pretty darn good.

Another good day.

It’s been a good writing day. I slept really well (somebody on the floor had set their alarm for 3am and somebody else sounded as though they were not feeling well at 6am, but I slept very well). I got up at a respectable hour and had a nice breakfast. Banff Centre scrambled eggs have magical propertiies, or so I’ve come to believe.

Stuart Ian McKay is staying in the boat studio – lucky! – and he invited me to come and visit him this morning. I dropped by and he read a poem.

I liked it. How often do you happen upon a poet in a boat in the woods? He doesn’t have a lisp, by the way – my camera does. He’s loving the Henriquez Studio…I can certainly understand why. It’s a magical little place, and he says that he’s getting a lot of work done.

Everybody is hard at work. Joni has declared that she is imposing a regime:

I have my own regime, but it’s not been committed to paper. I’ve been going for a walk after breakfast, getting pictures, and then I settle down to write. Then I go for coffee. Then I go back to writing. Then lunch. Then more writing. Then coffee. And then dinner, more writing, chamomile tea (to counteract the coffee), some reading, and bed. I wish I was always this disciplined.

There are a lot of self-directeds around right now – writers and poets working, like me, on their own projects without being attached to a group. Literary Arts got us together for lunch today – what a great idea! Seven of us at a table, laughing and squawking about the trials and tribulations of first drafts and wondering how we were all managing to deplete our meal plans so quickly…lots of fun!

There’s also been the discovery of muffin o’clock: the time of day when you find yourself bound and determined to find – and then consume – a muffin. I wish this had been my invention, but alas, no…it’s the invention of Nick Huchetson from Literary Arts, and the self-directeds appear to be adopting it with enthusiasm. He explained the concept at lunch.

There was a brief suggestion from the table that there be a sushi o’clock, but I don’t think it will carry.

I’ve only got two and a half days left here – I can’t quite believe that it’s already Wednesday. Seriously? How did that happen? I’m making good progress on the manuscript, though. Yesterday’s revisions on the short story were finished just before bed, and I’ve started a new story today.

I think I’ve got a good handle on the overall theme for the collection…the stories are all, essentially, about losing something (and in some cases, finding something). I’m trying hard to keep it from being too gloomy or maudlin, and I think I’ve managed to do that.

What I hadn’t expected, though, was how difficult it would be to put the stories in order. It’s not something I had really given much consideration to: the arrangement of short stories. But it needs to be decided.

I’m working out the order. That’s probably not the final arrangement – I think I need to decide if I’m going for a thematic arrangement, or if I want to try to group the stories according to gloominess or keep the like narratives with like…hard to know for sure.

It’s great to see it coming together, though, and I think the manuscript has a fighting chance.

I’m also seriously excited to be able to say that I’ve almost got an entire manuscript. How cool is that?

Conspire to inspire.

Day two of the residency, and it’s still going well. I’m on a quiet side of Lloyd Hall – tucked away in the corner. It’s very private feeling, and very conducive to working into the night…just what I was hoping for. I slept well, I was up early, and then I worked, and I worked, and I worked. It’s chilly, too, but not crazy cold. I went out for a walk this morning in hopes of seeing some deer or elk, but it was just me.

I spent my day working on that short story. I don’t have a printer, but the Community Services office will let you run down with a USB stick and print on their Xerox, and I was down there a couple times today to print of drafts. Double sided printing, too! It’s great. I think there’s a twenty-five page limit, but that might be in one go. If I manage to finish the stories for the collection before I leave, I think I can get printing done at the business centre (which would be better than feeding one page at a time to my little inkjet printer).

I think I might be close to finishing a short story, and with a little luck, I’ll put the last of the revisions to bed tonight and be ready to start something fresh in the morning. I’m still surprised at how well it’s going, and how quickly. Must be the Banff Centre rubbing off on me…it’s like everything has come together to conspire to inspire.

It’s so lovely and quiet. I don’t think I ever truly appreciate how much noise we get from the road at home until I’m here and listening to the wind in the trees.

At breakfast, I bumped into Joni again – she’s still working on revisions for her novel – and Stuart Ian McKay, a poet from Calgary. He’s staying in the Henriquez studio – the boat studio – and we spent some time rhapsodizing about how great the Leighton Studios are in general, and how great the boat is in particular. It’s been a year since I was in the boat, and I’m still giddy about it.

My residency this time around space is great, too. Self-directeds like me get a room that doubles as accommodation and work space, and it’s really very comfortable. Lots and lots of desk space and great lighting. I spent a good chunk of time working in the room today, but I’m starting to learn that it’s not such a bad idea to take your writing for a walk. There are so many nooks and crannies that are ideal for settling down to write. I did some work at the Kiln, which is a groovy little coffee shop in Donald Cameron. And this afternoon (and yesterday evening, and tonight after I finish this post), I wrote in the Gooseberry Deli and Juice Bar, which is in the Sally Borden building.

The dinner time conversation has been excellent, too. Last night, there was discussion about prosthetic theory – something I think I need to learn more about – and tonight, a really interesting discussion about the schism in popular and alternative music, circa 1967, which apparently has much to do with the release of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. And some musings on why poets are hypochondriacs (this from a poet) and about trusting in transcription of words and sound in the creative process. These are things I did not know; these are things I would not know unless I was here.

I’ve got three and a half more days of work ahead of me, and I’m feeling really optimistic about what I’ll be able to get done. One completed short story will be done by tonight. I just need to rework the ending a little and find a title, but there was something in our dinnertime conversation about trusting in the transcription of ideas that seemed to give me an idea, and I’m going to see what I can do with it.

Day two draws to a close. I’m looking forward to day three!

(and I still have not plugged the television in.)

(also – have a look at Boulder Pavement. It’s a new interdisciplinary arts magazine put out by the Banff Centre, and it’s a feast for the eyes. Some really great stuff there.)

Back where I want to be.

I had a couple of nice days’ wandering this weekend, but by last night, I was ready to get myself to the Banff Centre and get to work.

Jim sent the Banffmobile to come and get me, and I got myself settled, got myself a sandwich, and got to work.

I’ve got a great room here. I think it might be the room I had when I first came here – the view is vaguely familiar, and I seem to recall being on the fourth floor.

The Kinnear Centre is really shaping up, too – still a lot of construction, but the mud and muck from September is gone, and it’s beginning to look like a finished building.

This is my eighth residency here. Still can’t quite believe that. I’m only here for the week, and I think this will be a ‘pour it on’ residency. I’m working to finish a collection of short stories, and I’d like to have it pulled together in time to submit it for the Hudson Prize. And to do that, I need to finish a few more short stories, revise the heck out of them, and then figure out how they work with the others that I have ready.

I think I can do it.

I unplugged the television.

I can do it.

I managed to write a decent first draft of a short story today…which, actually, I find a little bit astonishing. Maybe the two days of chilaxing are going to help with the whole ‘pour it on’ plan? I managed to get it typed and then hustled down to Community Services to print it and then – because it wasn’t time for dinner and I’d unplugged the television – I sat and edited for an hour.

And then dinner. I met Joanie, who is here on her first residency, working on revisions on her first novel, and then we both met W.L, who is doing something with media and prosthetics and projections – sounded interesting. There’s at least one more writer here on a self-directed program, but I haven’t seen her yet. And I think the Alberta Writers’ Guild may be here, too. I think. I’m not sure.

It’s shaping up to be a good week.

Day seven: home again, home again, jiggity jig.

Last day of the residency – I went for a last walk,

packed up,

and made my way home.

It was a good residency. Short, but sweet. I had a great time with the hike, and I did some great writing. And I started working on my novel outline, too…it’s exciting to be thinking about a longer project.

Good to be home, though. I’m pretty tired – I’ll start answering emails tomorrow, I think. I’m going to bed early tonight!

Day six: writing, knitting, thinking.

Today was the last full day of my residency; I leave tomorrow afternoon. It was another quiet, thinking day for me…which is a nice thing to have. I had a poke at the story I finished yesterday, and worked out ideas for a new story – possibly a longer work (dare I think novel?). It’s a story that I’ve been wanting to write for some time, but the telling of it only seems to be falling into place now.

Maybe it’s the combination of Monday’s hike and the time I’ve had to think these last few days. I can’t really put my finger on it, but it’s a good feeling, just the same. I think it’s going to take a while to write…which seems reasonable because the idea has taken such a long time to make itself known.

I also had lunch with Chris (@furtivecode), who is the senior web specialist here at the Banff Centre. It was really interesting to hear about the ways the Centre is working to reach out to the arts community while also working to develop their leadership programs and various conferences and festivals. Sounds to me like there’s a lot more on the horizon for the Banff Centre, and I really like the way the planning is so intentional and focussed. He and his other half also have a baby on the way; I must knit that baby a sweater.

And I went for a walk. And ran into deer.

I thought I’d given them a wide enough berth, but when I came around the corner, this fellow gave me a dirty look.

It occurred to me that he was rather large, and his hooves were rather pointy looking. And so I turned and went the other way. I think it was a satisfactory decision for all concerned parties.

I’ve had a really good residency this time around. My seventh (I keep thinking it’s my eighth, but no…I must be planning ahead without realizing it!)…and I’m really grateful to the Banff Centre for giving me so many opportunities to work and learn. It seems like there are few places where a person like me has a chance to indulge a dream of being a writer to this extent, and I’m fortunate to have discovered it almost in my backyard. I’ve always wanted to be a writer, and time at the Banff Centre is a way of edging closer to that dream.

Well. Must finish packing. Must also go and buy some gum and candy bars to use up my meal plan. And I think I’m going to need to buy myself a nicer chair for my desk when I get home, too. The one I’ve been using here is so much better than what I’ve been sitting on at home. Hmm. A trip to the office supply store may be in order.

Day five: writing, not hiking.

This is the view from my window:

Today was all writing and no hiking. My legs and back were sore today! Not crippled up sore…more in the ‘oh, boy, this is uncomfortable’ range. I slept really well last night (very quiet evening in Lloyd Hall – hurray!) and I think it’ll be a quiet evening tonight, too. There’s an open studio event at the end of the week and from the talk at breakfast, a lot of the artists are trying to finish projects so that they can show their work.

Oh, and I discovered that there are English muffins at breakfast. There’s a whole toasting station I knew nothing about. How did this escape my notice? I have no idea. How long has it been there? Who can know? No crumpets, but plenty of English muffins. Incredible! I’m going to check it out again tomorrow to make sure it wasn’t some kind of English muffin mirage.

I spent most of my day in the library. The library is in the basement of Lloyd, where the artists stay, and I was so daring as to go down in my slippers…I don’t need to leave the building, and I do have some snazzy new moccasins. It turned out to be a good call…I was oh-so-comfortable! The library here is kind of a hidden gem – never very busy, always quiet, and very comfortable. The hours aren’t very good right now – closed on weekends and only open until 5pm on weekdays. But it’s open during the day, and the librarians are okay with coffee cups as long as you promise not to spill.

There’s a nice big table to sit at, and really great chairs. I had it mostly to myself until a poet showed up. A poet who jiggled the table when he wrote. A lot. I’m pretty sure it was this guy, but I didn’t want to interrupt him to ask. Nor did I want to shoot daggers from my eyes for the table jiggling. Poets, in my experience, can be fearsome. And poets who can jiggle tables with the sheer force and conviction of their writing could probably disemvowel another hapless writer, wipe the pen on the victim’s sleeve, and walk away laughing.

Dude. Do not mess with the poets.

Despite the table jiggling, I finished a short story today. I think it’s a good one. I…well, it’s about zombies. In a mountain town. Kind of like Banff. Only different. First draft is done, and I’m pleased with it…if I can polish it up in time, I might send it out to Tesseracts 14. I’m going to try to get a start on another story tomorrow…I’m afraid to start messing with the zombie story until I’ve had a chance to think about it.

It’s much quieter on campus now, too. Wordfest is done, and the eleventy million buffet-eating children are gone. The wanderers are still, well, wandering. Definitely dark and somewhat dreary here today. Low cloud, a bit of rain, and a general feeling of dampness. I’m really glad I brought my woolly sweater.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch…Mom and dad have discovered Skype, and are trying to convince the cats that it’s me in the computer. They almost got another cat today. This is what happens when I go away. They eat their dinner late at night and look at cat adoption listings.

Good heavens. By the time I get home, they’ll be eating at midnight buffets and we’ll have nineteen cats.

Tomorrow? More writing. I’m having lunch with @furtivecode. Ten bucks says I forget to use his real name. Even now, I’m thinking ‘yeah, lunch with Furtivecode. Don’t forget!’

That’s day five of my writing residency, friends. A much more subdued day, but definitely a productive one.

Day four: hiking, not writing.

Day four of my residency was awesome.

I didn’t sleep all that well (not so awesome – some of the wanderer thematic residency people wandered back in around 3am and it woke me up). I had booked a day hike with a local mountain guide, Martha McCallum. She does heli-hiking in Kananaskis, but also does guiding and hiking trips in the mountains.

I’ve never gone hiking before. Ever. So I emailed Martha and asked her if she could set up a trip for me that wasn’t too hard and ended with a campfire. She worked it all out, and we went hiking in the Edith Pass this morning.

Martha picked me up at the Banff Centre, and we drove to the spot. As part of the hike package, she made lunch (so good – there was a thermos of coffee for me, snap peas, cherry tomatoes, chocolate, strawberries, ham and cheese bagel sandwich, and a bun with brie cheese as a snack).

We started out on our hike after a small talk about bears – which was a good thing, because she found fresh bear scat on the trail after a few minutes of walking. It is a bad thing, I learned, to smile at a bear (baring your teeth is seen as aggressive) or to make eye contact. We didn’t see any bears on the hike – which was also good – but found some tracks in the mud. Martha had a huge cannister of bear spray…which was very reassuring to me.

Apparently that was from a small bear. I think a bear that has a foot as big as my hand is not so much small as it is HUGE!

It was a great hike. I’ve never gone hiking – ever. I’m not really sure why. I’m not a huge outdoorsy person to begin with, and with needing the cane all last winter, I didn’t really think it was something I could do. But my leg strength and balance had improved since the winter, and being so gimpy – and then feeling not so gimpy – has given me a renewed sense of urgency to try things like this with the unspoken ‘while I can’ lingering in the background. It’s not that I expect to not be able to try things like this…it’s more that I’ve had a taste of what it’s like to really not be able to, and it makes me want to seize opportunities when I can.

Martha brought some ski poles along for me, for balance, and it helped immensely. She really planned the route and the trip perfectly, and I felt really safe with her. We walked, and walked, and walked, and walked…

…and walked…

…and walked…

…and took lots of breaks…

…and walked some more…

It was so great. Martha had an altimeter, so she was able to check the elevation and show me where we were on the map – so cool.

According to Martha, we hiked about 6.5km (round trip), with an elevation gain of about 350 metres (more than a thousand feet!). We stopped at 1755 feet and turned around – I was starting to feel a little tired, and there was still the trip down.

I thought the climbing uphill would be tough, but coming downhill was tougher!

When we got back to the trailhead, we started a fire. The park has this outdoor fireplace set up next to a creek bed, and you can have a little fire without worrying about burning the mountain down. It was great…such a nice way to end the trip. I stuck my bun with brie into the coals and succeeded in burning some of it and melting the cheese on the rest, and we sat there and soaked up the heat. After a while, it started to rain, though, so we called it a day around five and I came back to the Banff Centre.

It was…it was so great. I can see now why people go out and do this kind of thing. I’m really, really tired, though – I had a long, hot bath, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to be in a world of hurt tomorrow.

What a great day, though. I have a whole new insight into the writing of the Fangorn forest scenes in Lord of the Rings, and a definite respect for characters that have to go hiking through mountains. While I wasn’t writing today, I think this was another really important experience for the residency…and something I wouldn’t have even thought to do if I hadn’t been coming to the Banff Centre. It’s the time and space to write that gave me the inspiration to take my notebook up to the top of the Sulphur Mountain gondola on Saturday, and the thought that I could take off on an incredible hike today.

Maybe that’s part of what a writer needs to do: try things like this out. You hear a lot about writing what you know (or writing about what you don’t know), but now I know the kind of triumph that comes with doing something like this – even if it was just a small hike, it was a real triumph for me. Martha talked about mindfulness as part of the walking and climbing, and that really resonated with me, too.

It was a really great day. I think the writing I do tomorrow is going to carry this invigoration and excitement in it. I’m going to get myself to bed early this evening (just drinking some chamomile tea right now – it worked for Peter Rabbit, so it’ll surely work for me after my exciting day). I really didn’t think I had it in me to do a hike like this…but Martha was really patient, and she wasn’t in any rush to get us up the pass. It was fine to stop and take breaks, or to rest, or just to stop and listen to the quiet. It was great.

And…if you want to go hiking in Banff with a certified guide, and you want to have a great day…talk to Martha!

Day three: eleventy billion girls, Wordfesties, and me.

A quiet(er) day today. I didn’t sleep as well as I would have liked, and tromping around Banff for the last couple of days has been kind of tiring! I went for a walk this morning after breakfast, but I spent most of the day in my studio.

It’s been super busy at the Banff Centre this weekend. A youth dance company has been here, preparing for a production (looks like a dance version of The Jungle Book, to judge by their tshirts). At every meal, I’ve watched in astonishment as eleventy million preteen girls descend upon the buffet like a plague of locusts. Those girls were hungry. Don’t get in their way! It’s been so busy at mealtimes that a supplementary buffet had to be set up to help manage the crowd. Those kids pick one buffet clean and then move on to the next one. It’s really cute, actually – last night, one of them was practically jumping up and down in anticipation of a second helping of fillet of snapper. I let her go ahead of me in line…I was afraid she’d start gnawing on my leg if I didn’t.

Wordfest is also underway (ending tonight, I think), and there are a lot of people showing up for talks and events. And also for meals. The Wordfesties are trying to give those eleventy million girls a run for their money, but in truth, nothing could ever hope to rival the kids.

There are a lot of artists here, too. Not nearly as hungry as the eleventy million girls or the Wordfesties. I’m not certain why. Slower metabolisms?

Me? Eating well, thank you. Lamb shanks for dinner tonight, with fusilli pasta in a cream sauce and spinach salad. I was a little early for dinner – the artists eat together, but most of them (us? can I say us?) don’t roll in for dinner until six or seven. I ate alone, but I can’t say that I minded too much. The view from the Vistas dining hall is company enough when it comes to the buffet dinner.

The writing is going well, too. Slowly, but nicely. If I was here for more than a week, I’d want to be working harder, I think…even though that seems a bit contradictory. If I can come away from this residency with a good short story (or two), I’ll count my time here as successful. And I think I’ll be wrapping up a story by tomorrow evening, so things are looking good.

I’ve been avoiding the tv while I’m here. There’s one in my room, but I’ve put an embargo on it…no cable for me (although I’ll admit to watching clips on the internet about the balloon boy – how weird was that?). It’s funny how the day can stretch out when you’re just writing and reading…I finished rereading A Moveable Feast today (the original version), and I’m working on Willa Cather’s O, Pioneers!.

Also a little knitting. I brought that sweater up here with me, and I was kind of hoping to finish it while I’m here. Would it be too geeky to try to chart the Banff Centre logo and knit it into the yoke? Maybe?

Tomorrow I’m going out with a mountain guide for a guided hike and a campfire lunch. Pictures of that tomorrow (if the bears don’t get me).

Day two: raining, gondola, and a good day.

I’m loving the Banff Centre. Have I mentioned that yet? Have I said it a hundred times yet? Have I sufficiently expressed my extreme gratitude that the adjudicating committees at the Banff Centre still manage to see something worthwhile in my pitiful applications and let me come here? Have I told you before that I spend my cubicle farm days dreaming of being a full-time writer, and that the Banff Centre is something I look forward to all year long?

I’m having a really good time.

I slept surprisingly well – the Banff Centre appears to have replaced the mattresses (yay!) in the rooms, and I’m in a very quiet wing. I think some of the ‘wanderers’ (a thematic arts residency that’s going on right now) are just a few doors down, but they’re quiet. They wandered to bed around the same time I did.

I had breakfast with Jim this morning (unexpected but lovely – I bumped into him and plunked myself down at his table). I’d decided that I wanted to take the gondola to the top of Sulphur Mountain and do some writing atop a mountain (or, at least, atop a taller mountain than Tunnel Mountain, where the Banff Centre is).

It wasn’t as clear as I would have liked – in fact, kind of rainy and drizzly. But I walked down to the townsite (just ahead of a huge wave of runners – there was some kind of road race going on this morning). I had a bit of time before the bus to the gondola, so I popped into the photo store and got my passport pictures done (not planning on travelling much, but I’m holding out for my dream of being summoned to a New York publisher’s office to sign a contract…and then to Hollywood to sell the film rights…).

Then I hopped onto the Banff Roam bus…it’s the public transit system here, and I think the buses are hybrid or electric (or something). The transit stops have a sensor hooked into a GPS unit on the bus, so the timing is accurate to the minute. When the sign flashes ‘arriving,’ it actually is! Amazing. I somehow don’t see Calgary Transit doing the same…there’d be near riots if passengers could figure out just how late their bus was running…

I rode up with a girl from Quebec. Truth be told, I was hoping to go up by myself, but she was by herself and I think she was a bit nervous about going up alone. And it turned out well – we had a nice chat on the way up. It was raining quite a bit during the ascent, so there wasn’t much opportunity for pictures. It was really cloudy at the top, too, so she went back down. But I got myself some lunch and watched the weather flowing all around the mountain.

Not many people up at the observation station. Also nice.

The lunch was good. A bit expensive ($11 for a cheeseburger and fries? Seriously, Brewster?). The price inflation must have something to do with the elevation gain.

It was pretty darn good, though. I ate, I looked out the window, and then I pulled out my notebook and a couple of pencil. I got the two pencil trick from reading Hemingway – less stopping for pencil sharpening breaks. And then I started a story (insert gasp and applause here).

Then I went out and wandered around on top of Sulphur Mountain. I didn’t go down to the boardwalk…it was looking pretty icy and mucky, and there was a big sign explaining that if you tumbled down the side of the mountain because you wanted to walk down a path of slush and ice, on your head be it. I stuck to the observation deck instead.

But the views? Incredible. There were some tourists complaining that it was too cloudy, but I think it’s more dramatic when you can see the clouds going by.

After I’d had enough (getting a bit cold and wet, and a tour group had just arrived), I headed back to grab a gondola to go back down.

They take your picture and put it into a really cheesy frame, and I’ll confess that I bought one. I think I’ll be able to post the link tomorrow so you can all share in my cheesy adventures.

I had the car to myself this time, which was great – because I opened the window (which would have scared that poor girl from Quebec) and stuck my camera out (holding onto it for dear life, with the strap around my wrist).

What made it even neater was that the gondola was gradually descending into a cloud bank…it was just looming over me:

Really incredible. I’d rather have the experience of descending into a cloud bank over a clear day.

It was great.

I grabbed the bus back to town, got my passport picture (it’s truly awful, so I think it’s a lock for passing the passport approval process), and headed back to the Banff Centre. I’ve got the seeds of a story in my mind, and I’m starting to write it. Zombies. It’s going to be about zombies. In a small mountain town…a small mountain town not unlike Banff. When I was signing those plates for the vampire anthology, one of the authors tipped me off to a small press in the US that’s buying up zombie stories like…well, I can’t come up with a good enough simile at the moment.

Perhaps horror is what I’m supposed to be writing? Hard to say. But I’m going to see where this story takes me, and enjoy the writing of it.

Ah. Five thirty now. I’m off to get my dinner. I really want to find out who won the ping pong grudge match last night.

(ps – Mom and dad – I’m wearing the fleece sweater you got me for my birthday! Thanks! It was super warm and I wore it all day long.)

Tomorrow? I think I’m going to rock the story-writing in the library. I miss the smell of the Paul D. Fleck – must return.

Day one of the Banff Centre residency.

Dear blog,

I’m at the Banff Centre. This morning, I got on the Brewster bus,

then drove through the traffic in the city,

and the construction,

down the highway,

and arrived at the Banff Centre. Here’s the view from my room:

It was a little overcast when I got here, blog, but the weather is supposed to be good while I’m here. I’m going to spend some time with the Banff Centre…just writing and soaking up the creative vibes. My friend Jim Olver from the Banff Centre met me at the bus depot and kindly dragged my suitcase up to my room for me. He’s a saint. I overpacked – again – but this time I brought a suitcase with wheels.

I’m learning.

There’s no pirate ship studio this year, but Jim says he’s got some ‘interesting places’ for me to write in, and I’m going to take him up on the offer. And I think that I might take the gondola to the top of Sulphur Mountain (which I can see from my window) and do some writing up there.

I took a walk down to the town site and did some (very) early Christmas shopping, and bought myself some socks and an early birthday present (thanks, mom and dad!!). I don’t know why I buy socks when I’m on vacation, but I do. I think it’s so that I can look at them when I cross my legs during a staff meeting and remember where I was…like a sock flashback, I guess. I didn’t mention this to the sales lady – I think she was probably wondering why I was buying nine pairs of socks.

Meh. It’s just how I roll.

There’s apparently a ping pong grudge match going on this evening, but I think I’m going to take a pass and work on a short story. People were talking at dinner about what they’d use a wish for – to gain a talent – and it seemed to be a toss up between being able to sing, play tennis, or always have the perfect witty comeback.

I’m going to have a good time. I just know it.

And…I’m back.

I got in yesterday afternoon. Wow, am I ever tired. The laundry is just about done, and the cats have finally settled down – it was a bit of a shock to their feline brains when I reappeared. ‘Wha? Where you been? Wha??’

I’m slowly settling unwinding from the trip. I’ll be transferring files to my home computer today, and looking at the revision notes I made for my short story. I’m a little bewildered at how quickly seven days passed – it’s not that it was a blur. Just that the time seemed to flow by very, very quickly.

The great thing about a place like the Banff Centre is that it’s really set up to encourage people to work. I know that my coworkers probably figure that I’m there for a vacation, but there’s very little about a residency that’s vacation-like. The setting is fabulous, of course, and you’re very well taken care of by the staff…so in many respects, it is a lot like a resort hotel.

But you’re there to work, and the Banff Centre knows it. That’s why breakfast ends at 9:30, for example – because most of the artists in residence are up and out to studios and workspaces by 8:30 or 9:00, and come back in again for lunch.

You’re given space and quiet, too. The staff are very careful not to disturb the artists while they’re working – there’s a lot of careful planning involved, right down to the cleaning schedule, and you’re not fully aware of it unless you stop to look around (the sign of good planning and execution!).

The customer service there is something to see in action, too. I’ve had a lot of customer service training seminars in my day, but listening to those one hour lectures pales in comparison to seeing people in roles that they love…and who genuinely enjoy what they’re doing. Take Nuwana, the sandwich lady – she’s been working at the Banff Centre for two decades now, and she loves her work. She and I were talking yesterday, and she’s somebody who enjoys the work, tries hard to make sure that the people she’s working with are well taken care of, and really exudes an aura of competence, cheerfulness, and real happiness. Or Jim, who positively feeds off of the artistic energy of the place – he’s somebody who is in the absolutely perfect job, and it shows. It really made me think about the work I do, and how I could try to bring some of that attitude to my cubicle.

The Banff Centre is really set up to help artists be productive. The support that’s available is great, and they seem really aware of the intensity involved – take the musicians who work all day. That’s hard work. There’s this general feeling that the Centre wants you to relax at the end of the day, and unwind…I think that’s why, for example, the meals are communal, and so very, very good. Or why they take such pains with the housekeeping – towels folded all pretty. Why the wifi service is so excellent, the laundry room so big and clean, and why the library stays open so late. And why the Banff Centre twitter feed keeps updates flowing so you know what kind of events are on. You’re there to work, but when you’re done, you’re expected to be comfortable and happy.

So…a great week for me. I wrote, and I ate a lot of bacon and eggs. I met some incredible people, learned some new things, lost a glove, and came home feeling excited about my writing life. I really don’t think I could have asked for a better residency experience.

Home again, home again…

Well, not quite. I'm on the road right now, passing through Canmore and enjoying the last of the mountain scenery. We're just zipping by the Three Sissters now.

What a week. It's been at times overwhelming, inspiring, tiring, exciting…really a wonderful trip. I'm tired – I never sleep well when I'm away, and I was awake until at least three this morning. But I do feel rejuvenated. Alive. Awake. Or maybe awakened.

I'm leaving with a good short story written, some wonderful new friends, and a renewed vision of optimism. And that's what a place like the Banff Centre is about, I think.

I'm also leaving without a glove. I have no idea where it might be. Fisher cats. I blame Fisher cats. Well, I'll knit myself a new pair this weekend…I've definitely got enough wool for it.

Well, that's my grand vacation, more or less. I've got more pictures to post over the next few days, but my mountain adventure is over…for now.
Sent on the TELUS Mobility network with BlackBerry

Sigh.

I’ve made a last pass around my room, and cleared up my studio space. I leave tomorrow. On the one hand, I miss my parents, and my cats, my bed, a full night’s sleep, and hair care products.

I did not bring enough hair product with me. See? Epic bad hair.

I’d like to pretend that I’ve been cultivating a whole bohemian thing, but no. The air here is dry, the water is quite hard, and there was really only room in my bag for one hair care product. I’ve been somewhat limited in my efforts.

Anyhow.

I’ll blog more tomorrow (of course), but it’s the end of the last full day at the Banff Centre, and it seems like the thoughts are always deepest at the end of the day.

Susan came to visit me in my studio this evening, and we shared a pot of tea and talked. It’s hard to capture the conversation in a blog post. But…but I felt, by the end of it, encouraged and nurtured and feeling as though I could very well pull this whole writer thing off.

Which pretty much is the capstone to the week – Jim’s efforts in getting me settled in, and then finding me the studio space…that was a gift in and of itself. I was so lucky to get the workspace…the sound of the boat’s creaky floors were like music. Made me wonder what the boat’s voice was like when it was in the water…it must have been lovely.

The environment here, too, is special in its own way: there’s something about being surrounded by these mountains, you know?

Well, I should get to bed. I can get a couple of hours in the studio tomorrow before it’s time to get on the bus. I was scheduled for one of those little passenger vans but I switched it up…I want the big luxury liner. Leg room. It’s all about the leg room.

I don’t have to turn in my pirate hat, do I?

Today is my last full day at the Banff Centre – the bus company is sending a cab to get me in tomorrow afternoon, and then I board the bus at the depot…and then back to Calgary. I had every intention of getting up early this morning – really, every intention. Didn’t quite work out that way. I was very nearly too late for the breakfast buffet, and when I checked my meal plan balance, the screen popped up with a ‘your meal plan is running low’ message. Danger! Danger! Gah!

So I had to call and add more money. Again. I felt a little sheepish about it, because even though I know the plan only covers two meals a day, I feel like I must be taking in monstrous amounts of food to have run through one hundred and eighty dollars’ worth of buffet dinners. Silly. I know. What was even more embarrassing was saying that I’d called yesterday about it…the kind man at the Registrar’s Office pointed out that it was two days ago. Where does the time go?

I’m a little stalled out on writing today. I worked on revising that short story yesterday, and I think it’s done. I think so. I danced around my boat for a while (remembering to close the windows so I could sing to along to Sinatra’s ‘Please Be Kind’ at the top of my lungs). When I was done, I looked around the boat with a ‘whew, what next?’ kind of feeling.

What next?

I’m trying to see if I can’t get a start on another story. I’ve been writing short stories for a while now – thinking about a novel doesn’t seem to be conducive to grad school, working full-time, and the care and husbandry of self and cats. At my dinner the other night, Brian suggested that it’s possible to have a writing career and work at the same time, but that it meant the sacrifice of something else – social life, he suggested. Television. Or both.

I’m okay with that. I don’t have a raging social life to begin with…so it’s more a question of not pursuing one, I guess. Susan’s take on the question was that it’s important for writers to buy time for themselves – whether you work or not – so they can focus on their work. I like that idea – that you need to parcel time up and use it for the task of writing. It feels right. She’s beautifully inspirational; quite an honour to listen to her.

He and Susan also think I should write about my office life. Brian’s words: ‘you’re sitting on a gold mine.’

Oooo. Now there’s the kicker. I’m too chicken to try to fictionalize my work – what if my bosses read it? I’m trying so hard to be a good worker bee. It’s one thing to complain (a little) about cubicle life…in a very general, nondescript way. But to write about it? Even if it was a composite sketch? I’m not sure. I confess that I’ve thought about it. But that’s all I’ve done.

Hrm.

The Minister of Canadian Heritage and Official Languages was here today, to make a funding announcement – more money to arts training centers (like the Banff Centre – yay!) and an additional bump in funding to the Banff Centre’s Playbill series. I went looking for the press conference, but I got a little lost.

Well, a lot lost, actually. And I didn’t put my coat on (it looked warm out, but it wasn’t!), so I was freezing. I did find the minister’s car, though.

I was all set to take a picture of it, but it suddenly occurred to me that photographing a federal minister’s car could be one of those things that lands you a visit from the RCMP. So I took a picture of the parking sign instead. Obviously my ancestors were made of sterner stuff than me.

So I went back to my studio. Sadly, the minister did not have time to make his way to the boat – Jim offered, but he had somewhere to be, and I can vouch for the fact that his car was parked quite a distance from where I am.

I went for a walk this morning, too. I still haven’t found any Fisher cats. The author of the note, Chris Cannon, emailed last night to say that there were indeed problems with Fishers cats coming aboard (including one he called Lieutenant Piney). That was in ’07. I did find some giant deer, though.

They were lying in the snow, looking for all the world like they were talking to each other. About what?

“So I says, I says, listen, I’m not your dear!”

“Hmph.”

“I know. The nerve of it, Louise. There nerve!”

Then they stared at me, and it occurred to me that if I stuck around, I could be in for a fate worse than a visit from the RCMP for photographing a minister’s car (which I did not do).

So I went back to my studio.

There’s a kayak making demonstration today, but I think I’m going to take a pass and just soak up my last day in the boat and think of something nice to write in the guestbook. I have to hand in my keys tomorrow, so I want to dance around in the boat a little more, sit in the captain’s chair for a little while longer, and wear my pirate hat just a few more times.

I don’t have to turn in the pirate hat, do I?

Oh, man. I hope not.

Tuesday.

It’s a bit colder this morning, and the forecast is calling for snow (or flurries) later on in the day. I believe it. It smells like snow today. The sky keeps clouding over, but there were some gorgeous views for breakfast: sunlight over the tops of the mountains, where the snow is white and luminous.

Naturally, I didn’t have my camera with me.

I had dinner last night with Susan Swan, a writer, and Brian Johnson, writer/poet/screenwriter/movie critic/musician. Yes, I was a little intimidated. But they’re both really nice, and I got some very good advice on writing and career paths, and came away from the dinner feeling pretty darn excited.

I’ve got two more full days here, counting today. I finished a short story yesterday afternoon, and I thought I might spend time revising it today – the opening needs some work.

I really like writing in this little boat. It’s funny, too – the reaction from other people when they hear that I’m in this studio. Everybody wants to come and see the boat. There’s a group of textile artists in the studio just west of me (no, not knitting – I asked and I think I may have insulted them a little – they’re working with silks and such), and I think they might drop by to see the innards of my little boat.

I haven’t seen a lot of wildlife. There’s major construction going on not far from here, and while it’s not noisy here, I think it might be keeping the animals away. I have seen some deer, though. The infamous Fisher cats? Haven’t seen them.

I haven’t really hosted a pirate party yet, but I have worn my hat and said ‘yarr’ a lot, so I think that qualifies. I’d really like to know who it was that had such a surprise with the Fisher cats. There must be a great story there.

There’s some kind of green tea and cookie event today, too – sound in the Music and Sound building. I didn’t bring anything green to wear, though…and I don’t want to get pinched today! But then again…green cookies. Can I resist the lure of green cookies?

Sailing through Monday in the Elsie K.

(there’s one more clip that Flickr is being stubborn with…I’ll try uploading it again later)

edited to add: Vimeo to the rescue!

Last part! from Heather C on Vimeo.

Yarr! A pirate writer!

I guess you get a pirate hat when you enter the Henriquez Studio. It is a boat, after all. The studio used to be a salmon trawler, and was purchased and brought up to the Banff Centre in the 80s.

Jim went and talked to the program director, and my ‘extended tour’ has now become cruise, because the studio is mine to use for the rest of my stay. Jim’s going to drop off the keys later.

Can you tell I’m just a little bit excited about all of this?

Why, yarr. Yarr, I ’tis.

Me. In the Henriquez Studio. WOW!

I’ll blog more later tonight, but….holy cow. I’m not a true Leighton Colony artist, but I’m on an ‘extended tour’ of the Henriquez Studio. As in sit and write for a few hours and be inspired.

Be inspired. By the boat studio. Set into the side of Tunnel Mountain. With snow softly falling around the boat. Um. Yes. Yes, I think I can arrange to be inspired.

Edited to add: Jim just dropped by with a pirate hat. I am allowed to use the studio until I leave on Thursday! I must confess that I let out a squeal and hugged him, and then jumped up and down. This…this is a dream come true.

I feel like a writer now. I did before, but now I really do.

Day two.

All in all, a decent day’s writing. Got a good start on a short story (I seem to be working mostly in short stories lately), ate an orange, and watched a movie. I’m going to turn in early tonight…need to try to get a better night’s sleep, and hopefully make the breakfast buffet again.

I can’t get enough of Banff Centre scrambled eggs.

Saturday morning at the Banff Centre.

I got up early this morning (early for me, since Saturdays are usually for sleeping in) and had breakfast with Jim Olver and his daughter. It was well worth it – they’re both great breakfast companions, and we had a lot to talk about (including a little business talk, since Jim and I are in related fields).

There are some interesting things going on here right now – apparently, the Banff Centre is taking delivery of new mattresses to replace the old ones (yay!), and Jim was expecting to meet the truck this morning. There’s also the CBC Radio-Canada Evolution program running right now – five Canadian composers are here, working on new pieces.

There’s a big concert in a couple of weeks, and Jim was saying that it will be broadcast nationally. I’ll have to tune in. The composers are blogging about the experience (mostly in French, it seems, but there are English translations). Go have a look…the concert will be broadcast online, too, and it looks like there’s a contest running.

I had dinner with Jo Going last night, a poet and painter from Alaska, and learned that no, the northern lights do not come closer if you whistle to them. Darn. Jo’s working on poetry right now, and she’s just a couple doors down from me here in Lloyd Hall. She’s a really neat person – and I keep bumping into her. There’s something comforting about a cheerful hello as I pass by.

The construction continues outside my window. It’s a bit like watching an ant farm…the construction guys are swarming all over the building, and they’re always up to something. I’ve taken to calling it my mant farm. I saw one of them dancing a jig yesterday afternoon…and darn it all, I didn’t get a picture.

Jim tells me there’s going to be some rock breaking on Monday – maybe – and he might be able to find me some alternate studio space for the day. Fingers crossed…there are some pretty great spaces on campus. My room is great (and I do love my mant farm), but the idea of trying out a different studio space is exciting. We’ll see.

My meal plan balance seems to be holding its own, too. We’re budgeted at $22.36 per day. Breakfast in the dining room runs at $6.35, lunch at $8.17, and dinner at $14.19. I might need to top myself up by Tuesday – I eat three meals a day, or else I get weepy and pathetic. The cost can be cut down, though, by skipping a dining room meal – usually dinner – and having a sandwich instead. But the dinners are the true crowning glory of the Banff Centre kitchens…good eating. I had trout last night (some kind of lemon buttery sauce to go with), and prime rib the night before. Yum!

I am here to write, though. Not just to watch the mant farm and eat. I’m working on that vampire short story, but I think I might put it aside for today and work on something of my own. It’s hard not to feel artsy here…so surrounded by people talking about all things creative. I went for a walk after breakfast this morning, and I think I’m going to head down to the library for a bit.

I am here.

Friday: day one.

Technically, it’s day two…but I didn’t really do much yesterday. The trip was a bit tiring, and I spent a lot of time just looking at the mountains when I got here. Just as well, because it’s pretty overcast this morning. So far. I think the sky will clear somewhat this afternoon.

I’ve got my writing nook set up – there’s a big fancy desk to work at, but also a small round table (for eating?) in front of the window and closest to the radiator. It’s where I’d rather be. Why write, facing the wall, when you can sit in front of a giant window with a view of the mountains? And the crane?

That’s the Kinnear Centre being built. I’m told it’s not going to get any taller than it already is, which is nice…it won’t obstruct any views. There’s a lot of activity, and I’ve got a pretty good view of the crane. And, I realized, the crane guy has a pretty good view of me.

What must he think, all the way up there? Does he enjoy the view?

He appears to be married. Does he have a picture of his family in his glass cube?

Did somebody knit that sweater for him?

What does he do if he has to go to the bathroom?

Does he enjoy the climb?

Frankly, I think I’d be too chicken to work all the way up there. I might groan about my cubicle life, but at least it doesn’t have a Plexiglas floor. I’d rather my cube stay firmly on the ground.

Well, enough of that. I’m full of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. I suppose I ought to start writing now. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of people here right now – the arts tables, at dinner, are fairly empty. I sat on my own this morning…to sleepy to make conversation. I’m wishing I’d packed a warmer sweater, too…should have brought one of my knitted ones. What was I thinking?

I did buy myself a hoodie last night. It smells pretty strongly of dye, though – not a good idea to wear it without washing. But there are laundry facilities here…hmm.