More Tips from Carla Stewart

Back when I interviewed Carla Stewart about her new novel, I asked her, "What advice would you give to writers trying to get their first novel published?" Here's her answer: Be realistic. It takes much longer than you think, but while you’re waiting, you there are basic things to consider so that when you do get a contract, you’re not overwhelmed.

Here’s a short list:
— Continue learning the craft. Conferences. Writing groups. Books on writing. And simply keep writing.
— Don’t be afraid of being unique and developing your voice. That is often what catches an agent or editor’s interest.
— Put up a website and/or a blog. A well-done site (professional if you can possibly afford it) says to the world you are a serious writer with something to offer.
— Network: not only at conferences, but also on social networking sites like FaceBook and Twitter.
— Reach out: People remember others who appreciated them or made them feel good. Send thank-you notes or drop emails to those who’ve taken time to hear your pitches (agents and editors in particular) or those who’ve made you laugh or shared a gem of wisdom with you. By giving to others you pave the way to lasting relationships. (And you, KBW, are wonderful at doing that here! Your hand of friendship is a tremendous blessing to me.)
— Commit yourself and your career to God and His timing. He wants the very best for you.

Those things have all paid off for Carla, as her first novel is due out this summer. Chasing Lilacs is a coming of age story set in Texas. In 1958, Elvis is on the radio and summer is in the air. Life should be simple and carefree. But not for twelve-year-old Sammie who has plenty of questions about her mother’s “nerve” problems. About shock treatments. About whether her mother loves her.

As her life careens out of control, Sammie has to choose who to trust with her deepest fears. Her best friend with an opinion about everything? The mysterious kid from California whose own troubles plague him? Or her round-faced neighbor with gentle advice and strong shoulders to cry on? Then, there’s the elderly widower who seems nice, but has his own dark past.

Trusting is one thing, but accepting the truth may be the hardest thing Sammie’s ever done.

Baby, Deliver Thyself

I’m thirty-four weeks pregnant, have two weeks of work left before I start maternity leave, and I still don’t know who’s going to deliver this baby. My doctor can’t, because the local hospital (which is only two blocks from where we live) doesn’t deliver babies. (They claim it’s because they have no anaesthesiologist. I’d like to tell them that the hospital where Sunshine was born didn’t have one either; if I’d required a C-section, it was a fifteen-minute ambulance ride down the highway to the city hospital.)

At my last appointment, my doctor transferred me to the care of a doctor in the next town over, where the baby will be born. (On a more interesting note, that means this baby share a birthplace with both his or her grandfathers.) However, that doctor is on holidays and hasn’t called back yet to schedule an appointment with me. Her office also told my doctor’s office that she’s very booked up for May and might not even be able to take me (though if she doesn’t, another doctor in her practice will).

Great. So now not only could I not get a midwife because there are so many babies due in May, I can’t get a doctor either. If I’d known May was the month that everyone else was having a baby, I would’ve had this one in April or June. (Yes, if you know how much planning went into this baby's arrival in May, you can laugh at that.)

So on one hand I’m a little bit stressed over the doctor situation, and on the other hand I keep telling myself that Sunshine’s birth went fine and this one will too, no matter what hospital we’re at or what doctor we end up with. Then an article in the autumn 09 issue of Birthing caught my attention. Janine Carter says, “We can remember that pizza and packages are delivered, babies are born and women give birth. We all, each and every one of us, has a birthday. We do not celebrate our delivery day. So why do we continue to detract from that special process that only the female of our species can do, by saying babies are delivered?”

That made me stop and think. Maybe I shouldn’t be so worried about who’s going to deliver the baby. Rumour has it that most doctors only show up in time to catch the baby anyways (and to make sure that everything’s okay). So six weeks from now, this baby and I will do our thing, and it’ll go just fine, wherever we end up and whoever is there with us.

Book Review: Delivery by Betty Jane Hegerat

When we were discussing what books to read in our Starbucks book club, I knew what I wanted to suggest: Delivery by Betty Jane Hegerat. I had been waiting for this book to come out since reading her first novel, Running Toward Home. Betty Jane graciously provided me with a review copy of her novel, so I'm now ahead of my book club, who are still waiting for their copies to arrive. This book is definitely going on my bookshelf and my "best of 2010" book list.

Betty Jane's second novel is about choices, adoption, motherhood, family, friends. In Delivery (October 2009, ISBN 978-088982-257-3), she explores how a mother and a daughter feel about the arrival of the daughter's out-of-wedlock baby. Both women must come to terms with their choices and feelings as they struggle to find a solution to the situation.

Lynn arrives at a friend's cabin on Quadra Island, BC, with her baby granddaughter in a laundry basket and no plan. All she knows is that she cannot hand the baby over to the adoptive parents as her daughter Heather asked her to. Back in Calgary, Heather is trying to deal with her post-baby body and her decision—until she realizes what her mother has done.

Eventually, nearly everyone in the novel arrives out at the cabin on Quadra Island. The novel revolves around Lynn and Heather, though other characters support or challenge them. Einar is the big, quiet man whose cabin Lynn has run to for refuge; Marty is Heather's partying, girlfriend-hunting brother, who remains mostly a voice on the phone as Heather keeps him updated; and Jack is Lynn's ex-husband, Heather's dad, a no-nonsense type man who has a plan for everything, including Heather's baby. But these men remain peripheral characters in this story focused on women and their experience of motherhood.

For Heather, as much as she is an outspoken, sarcastic woman who preferred dog-walking as a teen to babysitting, finds that she has a drive to mother. Just as her body responds to her daughter's cry with milk, her heart responds with love. Giving up the baby for adoption seems the most practical solution—yet the hardest. And so she wavers throughout the novel, resisting advice, resisting her heart.

At the end of the novel, Betty Jane offers no firm conclusion, no happily ever after. Heather makes a choice, but the reader is left to interpret that choice as they will. In a way, that's like life; a little messy, with lots of possibilities. As Susan Plett, another reader and adoptive mother, said: “I want to make [Delivery] required reading for everyone who has ever said ‘Well good for you!’ in response to ‘My children are adopted.’ … I so strongly appreciated the fact that you make it clear that there are no easy answers.”

Betty Jane Hegerat holds an MFA in Creative Writing from UBC and is currently an instructor at the University of Calgary and the Alexandra Writer's Centre Society. She writes about the places around her, places that her Canadian readers will be familiar with. Her earlier works include her debut novel Running Toward Home (2006) and a collection of short stories, A Crack in the Wall (2008).


In other news...

Back in August, I submitted another book review to a Calgary magazine, but never heard back from the editor. In the busyness of moving and starting a new job, I didn't follow-up on it. Recently, I heard from the editor, who was looking for more submissions, and found out that they had used my review. I requested a contributor copy, which arrived yesterday, and which I've been devouring. Birthing is a beautiful, information-packed magazine about birthing and parenting. If you're a mom, check out their website.

A few weeks ago, my hubby saw this great article and bookmarked it for me. It includes "rules" from quite a few different writers on writing fiction. If you're a fiction writer, check it out.

Blogging Tips from Violet Nesdoly

Violet Nesdoly is a fellow Inscriber, writer, and blogger who's been keeping up her various blogs for about six years now. Here, she offers some tips on blogging.

1. Focus your blog. What do you want to write about?

2. Decide on frequency and blog regularly so your readers aren't disappointed when they come for their expected read.

3. Do a variety of posts—always with the reader in mind. We blog readers are a selfish lot. If we don't find something of value to us (like humor, advice, news, anything relevant to us), we'll probably soon check out. In this vein, in addition to personal experience pieces, I'd suggest things like interviews; links to articles and resources designed to help your target audience; links to news stories that relate to your topic and your reaction to them (it's a blog, after all); links to websites that offer help and resources to people in your community (to across Canada—if there are such organizations); reviews of books relevant to your topic; practical things you do to make your life easier; etc.

4. Publicize your blog in places where people of your age group and interest gather. By publicize, I mean read and comment on other blogs that speak of similar things. Join blog carnivals and networks, and generally do some hanging out where others with your interests are found. Become one of them. Because blogging is as much about community as it is about getting people to read your posts.

5. There's lots of advice out there about blogging. One of the best blogs on blogging is written by Darren Rowse from Australia—Problogger. He talks a lot about making money with a blog but also about getting and keeping readers, blog etiquette and a whole slew of things.

Thanks for the tips, Violet! Now, over to you, fellow bloggers: do you have any tips and suggestions to add to Violet's? Share what you've learned in your blogging!

God Knows the Punch Line

On Friday night, I made it to the ICWF Spring WorDshop (after getting lost in Calgary and having to call my father-in-law for help) just in time to hear Alton Gansky’s keynote. He began by telling us “Your life is a joke” and went on to explain why that was a good thing. He defined a joke as one story with two possible endings: one you expect and one you don’t expect. (He threw in a few jokes for good measure.) Similarly, in our lives, we have expectations, an ending in mind, but then often, something comes along that we don’t expect.

Along with several people at my table, I could completely identify with what Al was saying. I thought back to the four years (has it been that long already?) since my hubby and I graduated with our first degrees, and the plans we had for our lives then. I was going to take a year off and then start my master’s degree. That hasn’t quite happened yet. A lot of other things have happened, but not the way we expected. And you know what? That’s okay.

As Al said, God knows the ending of the story. Al read Acts 16:6, which talks about Paul and his companions wanting to go into Asia to preach the Word, but instead going to other places because God had closed the door to Asia. God put a twist in their plans. Often, in our lives and in our writing, He’ll put a twist in our plans too. Have another destination in mind for us than we do. Al said he started out to write nonfiction; now, most of his books are fiction. God had other plans for him.

Al challenged us to be open to change, to the new directions that God may be leading us in. He told us to expect twists—in our life and in our writing careers. He joked that he’d like to collect his earlier books and burn them, because he’s learned and grown so much as a writer since then (that reminded me of Lisa Samson’s similar comment). He’s changed, as every writer should. Change is a good thing. He’s not the writer that he was ten years ago, and neither should we be.

I left the conference glad that I’d made the effort to come for Friday night and a bit sorry that I’d miss the rest of the talks Saturday (but my friend’s wedding on Saturday was a lot of fun). Al spoke encouragement that I needed to hear as my hubby and I face changes in our lives yet again. I just have to remember that my life is a joke and God knows the punch line.

Birth Stories

It was just supposed to be a quick phone call—double check my friend’s due date, assure her that yes, I was available to watch her one-year-old daughter when she went into labour, and then I’d be off the phone and watching a movie with my hubby. I should have known that (a) any conversation with my friend wouldn’t be quick and (b) any conversation about birth wouldn’t be quick.

We moved from her upcoming birth to her last birth to my birth to her friend’s last birth and upcoming birth. It’s a topic that both of us are fairly opinionated about, but then, what woman who’s been through it isn’t? It’s a life-changing experience—and rightfully so. Bringing a new life into the world is no small matter, and every nine months of that journey contain unforgettable, amazing, and frustrating moments.

A while ago, I was researching writing markets and discovered Childbirth Solutions. I browsed through their articles, mentally agreeing or disagreeing, and perused a few of the birth stories. I find it fascinating how we all want to share our birth stories, to somehow convey to the world this incredible experience that we went through—and yet the words never do justice to how that experience really affected each of us.

I used to groan every time my mom told the story of my own birth, on this day twenty-six years ago. I’m a twin, and because of that she ended up on several weeks (or was it months?) of bed rest before going into labour. When labour did finally start, my brother was in ready to get out, until I decided that I wanted to be first (or so mom tells the story). She spent the next twelve hours pushing down hard while the doctor attempted to push up on my head so that my brother could get out. It didn’t work. When he said “C-section,” she said, “Put me under.” And so it was that the doctor pulled my brother out of my mom’s tummy just a short minute before pulling me out, and I became the second-born.

It rankled me that I was the problem, that that moment seemed to define me for the rest of my life (I did compete with my brother until we were in our late teens, each of us trying to be “first” still). Now that I’ve been through birth myself, I see that story differently. I know how it feels to think that if one thing had been differently, it would have gone better. I had a really good, ten-hour birth—but Sunshine, the midwife told me, was sideways, and so labour was stalled until she turned and slid out. Maybe she could have been born hours earlier, if she’d been properly positioned, if I’d walked more to help her turn, if...

And so I continue to share my story with other moms, to listen to their stories, to sympathize and agonize and rejoice with them, over our birth stories and this amazing process of bringing new lives into the world.

Sunshine is Potty Trained!

“Poopy,” comes the muttered comment while Sunshine plays, or maybe it’s yelled from her bedroom, or just asked quietly while she’s walking through the living room. I pounce, saying, “Potty? You need to go potty?” and usher her off to the bathroom to peel off her diaper and plunk her onto her potty. Sometimes my question is met with protests that she really didn’t mean “poopy” when she said “poopy,” but usually when she sits, she goes.

We’re still keeping Sunshine in diapers, but for the most part she’s potty trained at home and at Grandma’s. Grandma also has a potty and at Grandma’s, Sunshine can sometimes watch her older cousins use the potty—more incentive to use it herself. And just as Sunshine seemed to pop out teeth without any problems, she’s also seemed to pick up potty training fairly quickly.

Advice to a Budding Writer

I recently received an email from one of my aunts, who said, in response to my comment that I was applying for a local writing program, “I put off answering your e-mail as I wanted to make some comments about a book I recently read. As a 'budding' writer, I am sure you will appreciate what I am thinking. I don't know if you have read much so-called Christian fiction. I have read a lot, some of it quite good, a few so good they have become part of the family's library (Leota's Garden, for one). However, I have lately read several that are so shallow and trite, and fluff that I began to think about it, and I really feel these books do not bring any sort of honour to our Lord.

“The most recent disappointment is one of a series of books about "mail order brides" ... historical (????) fiction. The principal characters are too good to be true—so sweet and wonderful that you can't really believe them. Everything always works out smoothly and well unless it is something that is 'not their fault' and then they overcome in such amazing ways that you feel like they have no relation at all to us normal mortals. True historical detail is nonexistent. For instance, in the late 1800s women just did not get jobs working as editors—even advertising editors—for major newspapers. There were so many details like that that I just began to be really annoyed with the authors.

“What I think is that these authors are churning out books, without bothering to do any research, and without any real planning and character development. Thankfully I did not buy the book; it was on the lending shelf of our complex, so I borrowed it. I have read others that were poorly researched and faulty in the details, but the story was well written and the characters were real, so I could forgive the other faults, but even Grace Livingstone Hill (“Racy Gracy”) wrote better than these guys!!! Anyway, enough of my rant. What I want to say, is if you do set out to be a writer, strive to have sound research, and good character development, and a plot that has some interest to it (i.e., one where the reader doesn't know from page one what the end is going to be!).”

My answer was something along the lines of “I agree with you completely!” I’ve also read books that left me disappointed by the plot or character development or even the lack of historical details. I enjoy historical fiction for its ability to bring the past alive—but only when it is well-researched (and my own beginning attempts to write historical fiction have made me appreciate the amount of research that's required!). My biggest complaint about Screenplay was similar to my aunt’s, that the character is so sweet and wonderful you can’t really believe her and everything just works out perfectly for her so there is really no story.

But among all the “fluff” and disappointing books that I’ve read, there have also been some really good books. Books that sometimes give me writer’s block as I fear that I’ll never be able to write like that, yet also challenge me to keep writing and to keep learning and to hope that someday, I’ll write a book my aunt would make a part of her family’s library.

Blog Carnival and a Break

Hi everyone. This week's edition of the Just Write Blog Carnival is up, with another submission by yours truly. Other than that, I'm taking a break from blogging today because I'm tired from a busy week of working and am coming down with a rip-roaring sore throat (ugh). So go tour the carnival, have a great weekend (don't get sick!) and I'll see you Monday.

A Strange Phone Call

“Hello, this is Dickson Crossing Starbucks, Bonnie speaking, how can I help you?”

There’s some mumbling on the other end of the phone, and then a guy’s voice says, “Did you say this was Starbucks?”

“Yes, this is the Dickson Crossing Starbucks. How can I help you?”

“What did you say your name was?”

“Bonnie.”

“Oh, hi, Bon! How’s it going?” He’s overenthusiastic now, almost gushing.

“Good.” I’m a bit dubious; I don’t recognize this voice at all, and nobody calls me “Bon” (except for one of my really close college girlfriends, and then only usually in quick emails).

“Keepin’ out of trouble?” he continues in the same upbeat tone.

“Always.” I’m trying to play along, but I’m getting a bit creeped out. Who is this guy?

“Do you know who this is, Bon?”

“Nope.”

“Really, Bon? Take a guess.” He sounds disappointed that I haven’t figured him out.

“I don’t have any,” I say, shaking my head. I really don’t.

“No clue at all?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you a joke, and then you’ll know who I am, all right, Bon?”

“Sure.” I can play along, but I’m getting more and more certain he’s got the wrong number.

“Where you ever on crutches?”

What sort of joke is that? “No.”

“Never? You never hurt your foot?”

“Oh, yeah, once.”

“What did you do?”

“Crushed it in a bobcat.”

“And you didn’t have crutches then?”

“Yeah, I did, for like a week.” It was hardly anything—that’s how I forgot about it.

“How old were you?”

“Eight or nine.”

Click. I’m left listening to a dial tone.

Tipping in Canada

Last night as we were driving home from my in-laws, my husband and I were listening to a radio program that discussed the practice of tipping in Canada. The show host and his guests talked about how we feel obligated to tip a waitress, even if she’s given us terrible service. They questioned whether an automatic gratuity should be added to bills for large groups (standard custom at most restaurants now) or in busy situations like the Olympics (as apparently happened in Vancouver restaurants).

The first time I ate out at a cafe in Australia, I wasn’t sure what I should do about the tip. Did Australia have the same customs as Canada in that area? I finally asked and received a strange look and a comment along the lines of “if you want.” I probably tipped only a couple times for the rest of my stay there. There was something nice about not feeling pressured to leave the waiter or waitress something, yet being able to leave them something if they had provided excellent service.

Being the one providing customer service has also affected my opinion of tipping. Sure, everyone has bad days; that shouldn’t affect customer service. One of my fellow baristas went through a terrible week where a guy she liked started dating someone else, several of her friends ended up in a serious accident, and another friend was diagnosed with a terminal illness; she was still able to greet each customer cheerfully. But I’ve also seen other baristas lose their cool under stress and start almost yelling at customers; then it’s time to send them for a break.

Adding an automatic tip to the bill just for busy times seems a bad idea to me. More people means more tips to begin with. And while more customers may affect speed of service, it shouldn’t affect quality. When we have line-ups out the door, I still greet every customer with a smile and most don’t mind when I warn them that their drink may take three minutes to make instead of one. If I’m short-staffed or have a rush when a partner is on a break, people are usually understanding—as long as they are still treated well.

Often when I’m in drive-thru and receive a tip before I’ve even finished making a customer’s drink, I feel that I haven’t earned it yet. One fellow pays for his two-dollar coffee with a five and says “don’t worry about it.” While I make sure that I get him his coffee lickety-split, I wonder what he’d think if I took forever or forgot the sugar or something. Would he regret the generous tip? Of course, it’s easiest to leave a tip while paying for the drink, but that means it isn’t really based on service—just on the person’s generous tendency to tip their barista.

How about you? Do you feel obligated to tip, or do you base it upon the service you receive? And who do you tip? Your waitress, your barista, your hair dresser?

Just Write Blog Carnival

This week's edition of the Just Write blog carnival is now posted, with lots of great articles about writing, including my interview with Carla Stewart and the chance to win a book!

Book Review: Abigail by Jill Eileen Smith

The story of Abigail is one of my favourite stories in the Bible—one of those tiny stories tucked away in the Old Testament, a brief mention of a courageous woman who made a difference and then faded away into obscurity again. In the second book of her Wives of King David series, author Jill Eileen Smith delves into Abigail’s life and times, bringing this faraway woman to life again for modern readers.

Abigail is pledged in marriage to Nabal as a way to pay off her father’s long-standing debt to Nabal’s father. Rumours are already circulating that Nabal isn’t quite the man she’d want for a husband, but it’s too late to back out. When her wedding day proves a huge disappointment, and her life with Nabal afterwards is hardly better, Abigal wonders how to cope. Her faith in Adonai pulls her through the dark days of trying to be a faithful wife to a drunk, capricious man.

Then David shows up in her life. Her parents and brother have already run to David to escape servitude to Nabal. Along with David’s men, they keep an eye on Nabal’s flocks and servants, protecting him from bandits. So when David needs supplies for his men, he expects the favour to be returned. Instead, Nabal, an ardent supporter of King Saul, insults David. It’s then up to Abigail to use all her wisdom to spare Nabal’s servants from David’s wrath.

Jill’s research into Biblical times brought alive the little traditions and everyday actions that Abigail would have been involved in. She made me think about things that I hadn’t considered before, such as what I would have been like for Abigail to be David’s second wife—but not his last. Jill also weaves David’s Psalms into the story, in David’s thoughts and prayers as he makes tough decisions and in the events that affect his life.

Jill brought to life some major and minor characters from the Bible. I would have liked to see her stick to one or two narrators—just Abigail and David, perhaps—instead of several narrators. Obviously, a work of Biblical fiction is a great deal of the author’s imagination, filling in the blanks between the details given in Scripture, and Jill did a good job that for Abigail.

This book was provided for review courtesy of the publisher and/or publicist.

A Chat with CJ Darlington

KBW: You've talked about how Thicker Than Blood is your very first novel, started when you were in your teens, and has been through many revisions. What kept you working on this novel instead of just starting something new?
CJ: I think part of it was that I’d come to really care about the characters. It was almost as if they’d become my friends! I couldn’t leave them high and dry. Also, as I grew in my writing craft I would find new things to change and fix to make the story better.

KBW: How would you say being homeschooled has influenced your life and your writing?
CJ: I truly believe if it weren’t for my parents homeschooling my sister and me, I wouldn’t be here responding to your questions today. Homeschooling taught me how to learn, how to teach myself. I learn best that way. If I didn’t know something, I knew I could find out. That’s definitely helped me in writing, but also in other aspects of my life. Plus, having the support of my parents was monumental.

KBW: All of your jobs so far seem to have something to do with books. What do you see yourself doing in the future?
CJ: Great question! I’ve been a book lover my whole life, so I have a feeling books will always be with me in some way. But I could see myself pursuing other creative arts like painting or drawing. Lately I’ve been really drawn to working with horses. Who knows! Maybe God has plans for me that involve them. I think I’d like that a lot.

KBW: Is there a sequel coming for Thicker Than Blood?
CJ: Yes! I have already written a sequel, tentatively titled Innocent Blood. Some of the main characters from Thicker become minor characters in Innocent. I’m really, really excited about this story. Rare books also play an important role in the second book too, especially a first edition of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. The story revolves around a sixteen-year-old girl named Roxi who finds herself homeless and in deep trouble. It’s about her longing for love and a family, especially a mother figure. Another main character is Abby Dawson, the sister of Christy’s boss Hunter Dawson in Thicker than Blood. I don’t have a contract for it yet, but maybe I will soon.
KBW: What advice would you give to other writers trying to submit their novels to contests?
CJ: Once you submit, try to forget about them! LOL. Seriously, it’s so hard to not wonder every minute what’s happening to your submission. But it’s very important to keep writing and not put all your eggs in one basket/contest. Also, I know some contests will offer feedback on your submissions. That’s fantastic and helpful for new writers, but also don’t forget to trust your instincts. Just because one person doesn’t like your story doesn’t mean it’s time to put it in a drawer.

KBW: Did having a popular blog and website (and thus a fairly big marketing platform) help you get published?
CJ: Ironically, my blog and website had nothing to do with my being published. When Tyndale House chose the winning manuscript in the 2008 Operation First Novel contest, no names were attached to them. They had no idea who wrote Thicker Than Blood. It won based on story alone. Now, my blog and website have really been a huge asset to help spread the word after the book came out, but they didn’t actually land me a contract.

KBW: Is there anything else you'd like to add?
CJ: Thank you, KBW, for all that you do to spread the word about great books. It’s a huge encouragement to authors to hear from people like you. Thanks for allowing me to share here on your blog.

KBW: Thanks so much for taking the time to answer my questions! I really enjoyed reading Thicker Than Blood and appreciate your blog. Best wishes!

Olympic Fever

Yesterday at Starbucks, the rushes and dead times corresponded to what Olympic events were going on. When the hockey game ended, our store was full of jubilant Canadians wanting to celebrate. Then all was quiet until just before the closing ceremonies, when we had another rush of people needing snacks and coffees. After that, it was dead; presumably everyone was at home, watching what was happening in Vancouver.

I’ve thought recently that perhaps what is not said on a blog says as much as what is said, and I’ve been quiet about the Olympics. Not that I haven’t been aware of what’s been happening—it’s on the radio every night as I drive home from work and somebody at work is bound to be talking about it. Nor that I haven’t been interested—my husband and I watched some Olympic highlights the other night and caught parts of hockey games at his parents’ or my grandparents’.

I didn’t realize that snowboarding and some other sports were Olympic events now. I enjoyed watching the Canadian gold ice dance and Joannie Rochette’s short performance. Some of those I wanted to see just because everyone else had been talking about them. And perhaps if we had a TV, I would have watched more of some events—the skiing and snowboarding interested me, though we could only get the highlights over the Internet.

I will confess, though, that I haven’t been infected with the Olympic fever that seems to have gotten into some other people. Yesterday I saw more Canadian clothing than I’ve ever seen in my life. People drove around town waving Canadian flags from their cars and honking their horns. It was fun. I was glad to be Canadian, glad that we did our country proud at this Olympics. Now we can get on with life as normal.

Is that a bad attitude? After all the work that Canada put into convincing the IOC that we should host the Olympics, after all the money that BC put into getting ready for the Olympics, after all the time that the athletes spent training and preparing for it… and yet I can understand those who question the debt BC now carries because of the Olympics. The “Own the Podium” program seemed rather arrogant and presumptuous to me.

Sometimes I think we haven’t come that far from the Romans watching gladiators kill each other for sport in the coliseum—only now we don’t require that our entertainers kill each other.