The Life and Times of Duel Love

            Today I shall share with you the tale of the only play I've ever written and how, after sitting dormant for seven years, it managed to find its way onto a stage.

            The story starts in 2006 when I was in my fifth and final year of high school, during my grade 11 drama class (I came to drama late in my school career, as my optional courses went to music classes first). It was at this point in time that we were assigned a play to write. I don’t remember all of the parameters we were required to follow, but the play had to be one act (30 minutes or shorter), have 3 scenes, 4 actors, take place in a realistic setting and convey some sort of message. We were also encouraged to not attempt to write a comedy because of how difficult humour is to write.

            Well, I've always been one for following the rules, but I've also always been one for bending said rules to suite my needs. Being told I needed a realistic setting was the first thing I needed to work with – after all, even then everything I wrote was fantasy. So, I got as close as I could and set it in medieval times.

            As for making the play a comedy, well, the plot that jumped into my mind required it. Thus, Duel Love, a play about two knights having a sword duel over a woman (the fairest in the land) was born, written with a very British style of humour.

            After all the plays were written, one scene from each of them was read to the class and we voted on four of them that were to be performed. Duel Love came out on top and, as a result, I ended up directing it for a summative assignment.

            The play came together wonderfully – even though I had at least one of my actors absent from all but two of the rehearsals. Then, on the day of the performance (which had been delayed by a couple snow days) one of my actresses didn't show up until a couple minutes before we had to go on stage. And, of course, the one time an actor forgot his line, I had managed to lose my copy of the script on the opposite side of the stage, and the two knights just stood there with their swords crossed, staring blankly at each other until I managed to remember the line and call it out.

            In spite of the hiccoughs, the performance was wonderful – everything I could have hoped for with my play, or so I thought. Then the play was put aside, only to be read periodically when someone in my house stumbled across the script.

            That might have been the end of Duel Love – I hadn't even read it in three or more years when, last summer, I received a message on Facebook from someone I’d never heard of before. It turned out to be the sister of one of my play’s actors, who happens to be the director at Maybles’ Productions – a small theatre company. She told me that she’s been fruitlessly searching for the playwright who went to school with her brother and had written Duel Love. The script had been accepted as part of a one act play festival, but now she needed permission to use it – if I was the playwright, of course.

            Well, how could I possibly say no to that? I informed her that she’d found the right person and she was welcome to use the scrip. I was thanked profusely and she told me that she’d loved the script from the day her brother brought it home and was excited to finally be able to perform it. She also asked if I’d be able to come to see the play – as if I’d miss it.

            In the months leading up to the play, I began to get a little nervous about a few things I was being told as the rehearsals progressed. First was that my script had been edited – something no writer likes to hear without having a say in it. Then the play started getting promoted as Monty Python and Princess Bride inspired – something that I took as a compliment, but didn't really see until I was told that the cast had workshopped the script and added a bunch of references.

            At this point, I only had one thought in my head: “What have they done to my play!?” I could have stepped up and said something – requested that they send me a copy of their improved script for approval – but I chose to hold my tongue. I knew there was a chance that they’d turned the play into something I wouldn't like, but I also knew that their changes could be fantastic. So, I waited until the performance (a week and a half ago) to find out.

            Now, one thing that is important to know about writing comedy is that, by the time you’re done, your jokes aren't very funny to you anymore because of how often you've "heard" them. An additional tidbit of information is that I'm not much of a laugh-out-loud person. Those, together, should tell you how well the play went when I say I was doubled over laughing for the entire performance.

            It was fantastic! The changes I was so worried about only made the play better, and the actors played their roles far beyond my expectations of how the characters had been written. It was truly incredible to see my words come to life as they did, and to hear the surrounding audience laughing along with me.

            When the awards were announced, I was thrilled to hear that Duel Love had earned Best Actor, Best Supporting Actor and Best Production. Congratulations, cast and crew, and thank you for taking my words and crafting a masterpiece.

Click here to find the charity anthology containing a couple of my short stories.

If there's any subject you'd like to see me ramble on about, feel free to leave a comment asking me to do so.

Something to Remember

            Or at least something to think about. After all, I'm not here to tell you what to think. I'm here to tell you what I think. It’s entirely up to you to decide if you agree with me.

            Remembrance Day has been a bee in my bonnet since (I believe) 2007, when I discovered that the day no longer meant what I was brought up to believe.

            I'm not familiar with what November 11^th represents in other countries, but here in Canada we call it Remembrance Day. Regardless of the country, though, the day marks the end of the first World War in 1918. I was taught – by my parents, in school and in church – that this was the day where we paused to remember how terrible war is. Even though we had never seen the war, we were taught about all the death, pain and suffering caused by the world wars. We were taught to be thankful to those who fought and lost so much.

            The reason we were taught all of this was to pass on one message to us: Don’t let it happen again. Remember. Remember what happened and don’t make the same mistakes. Do not let it happen again.

            That’s what I was taught, or at least how I interpreted it, and it’s what I still believe. The whole point of Remembrance Day is to pass on the stories so that we know to avoid wars in the future. It’s especially important as, more and more, we’re able to destroy the planet with our weapons.

            So, in 2007, my mother (a minister) was doing a joint Remembrance Ray service with another church. Normally I wouldn't have been there, as I'm not a church regular, but this time I was singing a solo – “Last Night I Had the StrangestDream” by Simon and Garfunkle. It is a song that supports the view of November 11^th that I described above: celebrating and remembering the end of wars. That was also the theme of the entire service with the exception of one thing. A poem.

            Now, as it turned out, my mother was sick on the day of the service and unable to attend – otherwise she probably would have stopped this poem. She told me afterwards that no one had known the theme of this poem in advance; someone had just asked if they could read it. She also learned at her weekly ministers’ breakfast that this poem had been read at every other church in town, always presented in the same way without anyone knowing what it was about.

            This poem said the exact opposite of everything the service was about. It was about the glories of battle and how heroic and wonderful it is to fight in war. It was outright propaganda.

            The same year, a street not too far from my home was renamed to “Veterans’ Memorial Parkway” and I've heard that this also happened across the country.

            From that day on, just about everything I've heard about Remembrance Day has been about hero-worshipping veterans. Telling people how glorious it is to go to war. I've even read that the Canadian Legion, which holds a trademark on the poppy, have been pressing charges against people using it to support peace.

            Now I have to ask myself, how has this happened? This is Canada. We’re known throughout the world as being nice, polite and peace-loving. Yet, suddenly, our day for remembering the atrocities of war so we can promote peace has become a day about the glories or war.

            We’re told over and over again to be thankful to the people who fought for our peace and freedom. I’ve always felt that the best way to thank them is by not throwing away more lives. I also have to wonder, how many of the veterans who are still alive from the World Wars are in favour of this hero-worship? Because it seems to me that, by making the day about them, we belittle what they fought for.

            It’s such a great disappointment to me that this day has degraded so much. Wouldn't it be wonderful if Remembrance Day became entirely about promoting peace? Especially if that ideal spread world wide? It may not end all wars, but it would sure cut down on them.

            Oh yeah, I forgot that it won’t happen because war is good for the economy. And money is far more valuable than lives.

            There, my real-world issues ranting is done for a while. Next week, we shall return to the usual happy-go-lucky randomness.

Click here to find the charity anthology containing a couple of my short stories.

If there's any subject you'd like to see me ramble on about, feel free to leave a comment asking me to do so.

Blog for Vendetta

            “Remember, remember, the fifth of November, the gunpowder treason and plot. I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot.”

            That’s right! Tomorrow is Guy Fawkes day, or as I like to call it, V for Vendetta day. Ever since I discovered the movie, I have watched it every year on the fifth of November. Why? Because it’s a great movie full of wonderful messages and the fact that the story takes place surrounding the fifth of November gives me the perfect excuse to watch it on the same day.

            Not that I need an excuse.

            What’s it about, then, this movie? Well, if you haven’t already, I’d suggest you watch it yourself. I will, however, try to give you the general idea as spoiler free as possible for those of you who haven’t seen it. For those of you who have, who knows? Maybe I’ll point out something you missed.

            The most obvious thing V for Vendetta is about is revenge (it may as well be in the title), but I hardly need to mention that. I doubt there are any revenge messages out there that we haven’t all heard in dozens of stories.

            What else is it about, then? Human nature, power, freedom, love, manipulation, fear, politics.... The list goes on. When I first watched the movie, I was largely drawn to it because I've always been particularly drawn to heroes (or anti-heroes, in most cases) who fight for ideals I believe in – Robin Hood, Zoro, the Dread Pirate Roberts – and V fit the bill perfectly.

            In recent years, however, the movie has had a new pull for me. It’s a warning. I can’t watch the movie without seeing the political system – one where the government rules by fear – as a very real potential future for our world. And that scares me.

            I know that, right now, it seems a little laughable that the world could be taken over by fear-driven tyranny, but look closely at the sort of political campaigns we have these days. They’re mostly based around telling us all the bad things about the opposition. It’s a war to see who can be made to look the worst – and it works. The result is that we vote based on who we’re afraid to have in control of our country, rather than who we think will do a good job running the country.

            That’s the first step into the world becoming that of the one in V for Vendetta.

            Enough of my political tirade and back to the movie, which, through writing this, I have discovered a new way to appreciate. It is a perfect example of something I believe is important in all fiction: the reflection of reality. It’s a story that is enjoyable simply as entertainment, but if you look deep enough you can apply it to our own world. That is artistic expertise right there.

            So, I invite you to do as I have done. Make the fifth of November a day to remember by sitting down and watching V for Vendetta. Perhaps if we spread the word, people will see how they're being manipulated and we’ll avoid the day when the world is controlled by fear. In the very least, you’ll get to see how incredibly expressive Hugo Weaving can be from behind a Guy Fawkes mask. It’s impressive.

Click here to find the charity anthology containing a couple of my short stories.

If there's any subject you'd like to see me ramble on about, feel free to leave a comment asking me to do so.

Where Wild Brains Roam

            Have you ever looked down at your feet and realised just how far away they are? No, really. I mean, if your head were to fall off for some inexplicable reason, when it landed, it would hurt. Really hurt. Although, with your head falling off, I really have no idea why you’d be worried about a little pain. Seriously, get your priorities straight.

            Where was I? Oh, yes, feet! Way down there (perhaps closer for some of you than others *cough*mydad*cough*). How did they get there? Don’t you remember a time when they were much closer? No, not quite that close – yes, I know all infants go through that stage where they chew on their toes and some people never grow out of the phase of constantly putting their foot in their mouth, but I'm talking about when you’re standing straight as a board. As in a two-by-four (properly treated so it doesn't twist – if you have to twist to see your feet, I'm afraid I must tell you that you've gone and got your feet on backwards. You might want to have someone look into that) rather than a board of directors because those are rarely straight.

            So, yes. Closer feet. Back then, the drop wasn't nearly so far. We could fall flat on our faces and hardly notice it. Of course, we also had the energy to go whizzing around , so we were far more likely to fall flat on our faces. Or run straight into walls. Or trees. I did that once, I should tell you some time. My dad tells it better though. My version has me, my brother, a Batmobile Nerf gun and a tree. My dad’s version has pirates marauding on highway 403. Way better.

            Anyway, your feet were once much closer, then, suddenly, one day, you look down and discover just how far away they are. Has that ever happened to you? It happened to me today. I guess that just goes to show what kind of funny thoughts can spring into your mind sometimes.

            Now, pick your head up off the floor and put it back on your shoulders where it belongs. This isn't the Labyrinth, you know.

Click here to find the charity anthology containing a couple of my short stories.

If there's any subject you'd like to see me ramble on about, feel free to leave a comment asking me to do so.

I Want to Teach the World to Con

            This week’s blog is brought to you from the mind of Colleen.

There is a phenomenon that geek/anime/nerd convention goers sometimes experience known as the post-con blues. It's the feeling of emptiness that proceeds the day or weekend of non-stop fun and freedom that accompanies the events where nerds run wild. It can feel different for every person. I personally wake up every morning for a few days after and feel weird in normal clothing, having worn a costume or “cosplay” for most of the past 72 hours. I forget how to do simple tasks like work and dishes. I miss being surrounded by the people who all seem to know me inside and out without ever having met me before. I miss the all-consuming, no-questions-asked, friendly acceptance that pervades every single con I've ever been to or heard of.

It doesn't matter who or what you are, how you're dressed, what fandom you're in, your sexuality, your race, your religion. None of that matters except one thing: that you treat everyone around you with the same respect you are enjoying. No exceptions to that rule. The thing that everyone who comes into contact with us eventually realizes is we take care of our own. We're like a gigantic family.

I heard a story at a con I attended this past year. The fellow telling the story was recalling a time when he had been standing in line to register at a con. Behind him were a couple guys he described as “con tourists”; regular joes who just wanted to see what all the hype was about. They saw someone in a particularly noticeable cosplay and made some smart remark or other. Everyone in the hall went dead silent and turned to glare at the offender. He’s sure to keep his comments to himself next time.

In some cases, cons are the only place some people have to feel accepted and free. I am lucky enough to live in a group of people who are just as judgement-free as a con typically is, but I know most people do not have that luxury. Some people look forward to con all year and pour all their heart and soul into their cosplays. Cons are extremely important to a lot of people and the organizers know this. One of my favourite cons was started by a group of college friends over five years ago. Now most of them are married, some have moved out of the province, but they have continued to put their con on every year despite all the challenges – partially because they love it, but also because of how important events like theirs is to so many people.

One of my all time favourite things about cons are the instant friendships that are made. You sit next to someone at a panel, you start chatting over an epic piece of merchandise, you are wearing cosplay from the same fandom and BAM, suddenly you're talking to the other person like you've been best friends for life. I have learned so much from these kinds of friendships. I have had fundamental prejudices I didn't even know I held shaken and destroyed from a half-hour's acquaintance.

Con is a magical place where dreams come true, where you can find and be your true self, where you can find love and life-long friends. Con is also a state of mind that I try to carry with me into the “real world”. It's a feeling of wanting to live in harmony with everyone around you, even if it isn't always easy. Someone I met at a panel said it best when he explained the concept of non-judgement to the group. He said “There is no judgement. Internally you may be cringing, but externally you're giving a thumbs-up all around. That's the way it is. Period.” And every day I wake up determined to bring the con sensibility to the world. It won't happen in my lifetime. But maybe, just maybe, if I keep thinking nothing but good about my fellow human beings, maybe my kids will see that. Maybe they'll catch hold of that and tell a friend. Maybe that friend will tell a friend. And slowly, ever so slowly, we will change the world. One geek at a time.

Click here to find the charity anthology containing a couple of my short stories.

If there's any subject you'd like to see me ramble on about, feel free to leave a comment asking me to do so.

This Blog Clearly Doesn't Exist

            I'm very tired today, so I decided I wasn't going to bother writing a blog post. After all, I deserve a break, right? I still can’t figure out how people manage to write one of these every day. Maybe I just don’t have enough to talk about.

            Of course, by skipping writing my blog this week, I could be facing drastic consequences. For starters, I will basically be giving myself permission to skip writing my blog whenever I'm too tired – which is frequently because, as you know, I usually leave writing my blog until way too late at night.

            Then I have to think of you, my readers. How could you possibly fill the time you set aside every week to read my blog? I've been informed that some of you quite look forwards to my weekly rambles (although, I must admit I still can’t figure out why) and my lack of blog this week (and in subsequent weeks) would be very disappointing. Eventually, I might even become so unreliable that you don’t even bother checking for a post. What, then, would you do with the empty void left by my truant blog posts?

            This whole situation reminds me of a conundrum I encountered in my grade 10 English class. We were told to write an essay about a moral debate we’d had at some point in our lives. The problem was I’d never questioned any decision I’d made. I had such a strong moral compass that right and wrong wasn't even a question for me.

            I quickly came up with a solution. I would write an essay on whether or not I should write the essay. After all, my only option if I were to write the essay would be to make up a moral debate that I’d never had and that would be dishonest. I don’t remember much of the content of that essay, but I do remember my conclusion was that it was better to not write the essay.

            Once again, I find myself coming to a similar conclusion. If I can’t provide you with a blog worth reading, why should I bother to write it? So I apologise to my avid fans for my absentee blog post this week and I promise to do my best to not turn this into a habit.

            Happy Thanksgiving to all of my Canadian readers and happy Columbus Day to the American ones. To everyone else who doesn't have a holiday this weekend, happy Monday – although how a Monday can be happy without this blog post that clearly does not exist is beyond me.

Click here to find the charity anthology containing a couple of my short stories.

If there's any subject you'd like to see me ramble on about, feel free to leave a comment asking me to do so.

Life as an Artist

            It is a common misconception that people who are selling things have money. It usually isn't even a conscious thought – it is just something that is assumed. The result is that shoppers are frequently looking for a better deal on things.

            This idea stems from the existence of huge companies that have CEOs spending millions on summer homes. Unfortunately, it is extended to include everyone who owns a business and, by extension, anyone selling something. This makes life much harder on everyone running a business who isn't a rich CEO – and even harder for an artist.

            So, I’d like to share with the world (at least the portion of it that reads my blog) a bit of what life is like for an artist sitting behind the wheel of a small business.

            The first thing I should mention is that my wife and I work seven days a week. To be fair, we don’t always work the typical eight hour days (sometimes it’s three hours and sometimes it’s fourteen), we set our own hours and we’re usually doing something we enjoy – but work is work and, no matter how much you love doing something, there are times when you just don’t want to do it.

            The last time we took time off and had a vacation was our honeymoon – a year and a half ago.

            If you go to an event we’re at (or our website), you can see some of what that work produces – our various products that we have for sale. You may even notice how much work we've put into displaying our work, or building and maintaining our website.

            As for the having money part, well... we've been officially in business for nearly two years and technically haven’t made a penny. I say technically because it depends on how you count the numbers – as in, if you don’t count all the materials we have to keep in stock so we can keep our products in stock, we've made a little money. If you do count them, we still have significantly less than we started with (this is normal – someone starting a business usually doesn't actually make money for the first five years).

            When we go to shows, we get a variety of responses to our products and prices. A very small handful of people tell us that our prices are far too low and we should raise them (we like those people). A lot of people comment on how reasonable our prices are (these are frequently people who have seen a lot of chainmaille, have made it themselves or truly understand the work that goes into something handmade). Most people seem happy with our prices. Many people think they’re a bit too high (though some of them like what they see so much that they buy it anyway). Others take one look at our prices and run away.

            Every once in a while, someone will ask me for a deal on something. Sometimes I’ll say yes – especially if they’re buying several items, they’re really nice and/or they’re coming to me with the last of their money and really want something that they don’t have quite enough for.

            On the other hand, there are people who make it perfectly clear that they think our prices are gouging them (thinking we are either deaf or blind), then ask for a discount. Needless to say, they don’t get it. At that point, I don’t care if I'm losing the sale – if they can’t see the value of an item, they shouldn't be buying it in the first place, let alone from an artist and/or small business owner.

            To these people, I want to say: Look at what you are holding. It is made by hand. When you buy that item, you are paying for the time spent making it and the materials it is made with. What you are not paying for is the time it took to design it or the years it took to learn the skills and become fast enough to get the price that low. You are not paying for the time we spend standing behind the table serving customers nor the time it takes to set up and take down the display at the beginning and end of the event – you’re not even paying for the space we’re renting to set up our display in. Do you have any idea how much has been invested in this display you aren't paying for? You’re also not paying for the time, gas or vehicle maintenance involved in getting to and from the event (you won’t be paying for our hotel room when the event is too far from home). You don’t pay for the time it takes to clean and polish our products. You don’t pay for the hours upon hours we spend taking pictures and editing them as professionally as we are able so we can keep an up-to-date website. You don’t pay for the web hosting that allows us to have a website. You don’t pay for our marketing. Not only do you not pay for the materials we keep on hand, you don’t even pay for them to be shipped to us.

            All we’re asking you to pay for are the materials in what you are holding and the time it took us to make it. Is that really too much to ask?

            Sadly, saying such things is a bad business practice and frequently a waste of breath. It won’t likely win a sale and it won’t make them understand how hard artists (the not-famous ones) struggle to make a living. I just wish more people knew and understood how much of a good deal they are already getting and complaining about.

            The worst part is that the example of my business is a fortunate one for artists. Most artists don’t even get paid for the time that goes into their art because there just aren't enough people who will pay what it’s worth.

            On the other hand, I would like to thank all of you wonderful people out there who do recognise what artwork is worth – especially the ones who insist on paying more than what we artists ask for our work. Thank you to everyone who supports a small business, even if it means paying a little more, because you are the people who keep us up and running, doing what we love.

            Above all, I’d like to thank you for taking the time to read this long and rantish blog post to better understand what it’s like to eke a living by chasing a dream. I hope it was enlightening to those of you who don’t know what it’s like and, for those of you who do, I hope it is encouraging to know that other people do know what you’re going through – and that we care.

Click here to find the charity anthology containing a couple of my short stories.

If there's any subject you'd like to see me ramble on about, feel free to leave a comment asking me to do so.