Monday, November 23, 2009

How to get a copy of Making it in High Heels

After many people telling me that they were unable to order the book my short story was published in, I contacted the project manager. He was unaware of the problem and said that the book is available for purchase on the publishers site. Click on the address below, and sorry about the inconvenience. Thanks for the support. Thank-you! Come again! ;) www.burmanbooks.com/node/198

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Counterfeit

This is a chunk of something that came to me today as I was grocery shopping. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it.
Counterfeit
You all know me very well. Some of you have known me since you were children. Others of you have only now discovered me. You all know my name. It is imbedded in your minds like the names of the celebrities you read about in your gossip magazines. While some may argue my character, there is one undeniable truth. I am a fake. Fake, like the smile on the faces of your in-laws. I am processed, I am artificial, and I am sure I have no soul. But, I am convenient, and that is my saving grace. I am the product of your laziness, of your indulgence, and your negligence. Like all the pollution choking this planet to death, I am here because you need me to make your life easier. I have fans, but for the most part I am seen for what I am. I am a byproduct, a cheap imitation of my predecessor. Like a spit-polish shine on your oldest most worn out shoes, I look better than I should, but I will never be a new pair of loafers. I am not even comparable to my ancestor on a microscopic level. Scientists have created me, an unholy cheap replica of what I shall never be. I am an empty, second-rate, clone. I am like a forged bank note that cheapens the economy with my presence. But, I am here, and some would like to see me done away with, like the dirt you push under the rug so you don’t need to look at it anymore. They wish to stop the making me, they say that my kind will bring destruction to you all. They may be right, there is nothing organic in me, it has all been processed and altered from its natural state, like the petroleum powering your cars. I am a slap in Mother Nature's face. I am practically plastic. But what is real anymore? Not that make-up on your face to disguise your blemishes. Not the colour of your hair that came from a bottle. Not the height you would not have if it weren’t for those heels you wear. Not that ego you put on to hide your insecurity. Not that tan you spray or bake on to attract others. Not those contacts you use to change your eye colour. Not that diet chocolate bar you eat so that you can bypass your guilt. Not the things you buy to fill what’s missing inside you. You could never survive without me. You are fooling yourselves if you think you could. I am, Cheez Whiz. Bwah hahahahahaha!! LOL! ha hahahahaha! Ahem...so...whatcha think?

Friday, November 13, 2009

The Artery

I went to my first book reading last night. I wasn't sure what to expect. I've never been to a reading of any kind before. It was at a place called the Artery. It was this at this place just off downtown that I've driven by a hundred times before and never noticed this art gallery/club/cafe before. It's located two blocks east of the ritzy part of downtown, in the gritty part of downtown. Obscurity is often right next door to the lime light. Sarah came with me. It was an “Inventory of the New World” with local novelist Thomas Trofimuk and Vancouver poet Marguerite Pigeon. Chocolate tasting and salsa dancing. Home-town favourite Thomas Trofimuk read from his acclaimed novel Waiting for Columbus and Vancouver poet and bon vivant Marguerite Pigeon dropped in to read from her mesmerizing collection Inventory, as well as a taste of her soon-to-be published novel Open Pit. But that’s wasn't all. In honour of the ‘new world’ flavours of Thomas Trofimuk’s novel, the Literary Saloon also featured. . . “New world” chocolate tasting, courtesy of Edmonton chocolatier Kerstin Roos of Kerstin's Chocolates / Chocophilia fame. The first of the ongoing lecture series Skills for the Apocalypse. This month’s skill was in keeping with the south-of-the-border theme: Ten Minute Salsa Lesson with of Etown Salsa! Because apparently the post-apocalyptic Canada includes salsa dancing.

Performer Bios: Marguerite Pigeon writes poetry and fiction. Her first book, Inventory, a collection of 58 object poems, appeared this spring with Anvil Press. She also recently completed a novel called Open Pit. Originally from Blind River, Northern Ontario (of Neil Young fame), she currently lives in Vancouver where she works as an editor. Her first poem about a bruised banana was great, then things got a little angry. The poetry was good. Then her excerpt from her book was...um...a little...choppy. Keep in mind I'm an expert of nothing, but her novel--while sounding interesting--was a bit choppy and distracted with it's flow.

Thomas Trofimuk is a Canadian writer of poetry and fiction. His first two novels; The 52nd Poem and Doubting Yourself to the Bone were both critically acclaimed. His third book, Waiting for Columbus, was released in August 2009 in the US and Canada, and will be published in the UK, Serbia, Poland and Brazil in 2010. He lives in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada with his wife and daughter. This novel sounded very interesting and humorous.

From Doubleday:

“A man arrives at an insane asylum in contemporary Spain claiming to be the legendary navigator Christopher Columbus. Who he really is, and the events that led him to break with reality, lie at the center of this captivating, romantic, and stunningly written novel.

Found in the treacherous Strait of Gibraltar, the mysterious man who calls himself Columbus appears to be just another delirious mental patient, until he begins to tell the “true” story of how he famously obtained three ships from Spanish royalty.

It’s Nurse Consuela who listens to these fantastical tales of adventure and romance, and tries desperately to make sense of why this seemingly intelligent man has been locked up, and why no one has come to visit. As splintered fragments of the man beneath the fa├žade reveal a charming yet guarded individual, Nurse Consuela can’t avoid the inappropriate longings she begins to feel. Something terrible caused his break with reality and she can only listen and wait as Columbus spins his tale to the very end.

In the tradition of The Story of Edgar Sawtelle and The Dogs of Babel, this unforgettable novel mines the darkest recesses of loss and the extraordinary capacity of the human spirit. It is an immensely satisfying novel that will introduce Thomas Trofimuk to readers who will want to hear his voice again and again.”

Sarah and I had a great time at the reading. There are readings every month, I think we shall go when ever we can. Sarah got her copy of Waiting for Columbus signed, she is now officially star struck. LOL!! Kidding Sarah...ha ha...kidding. Ummm...please don't hurt me. LOL!!

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Lest We Forget

November 11th, Remembrance Day.

I pin a red poppy to the collar of my jacket. I think about all the military men and women over the years that I've had the pleasure of knowing. Today is a tribute to them and the sacrifices they've made in the past and present. To our troops who are away from their loved ones, to those who will soon depart, and to those that never returned home: thank you.

In Flanders Fields In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved, and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields. Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields. — Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872 - 1918)

Sunday, November 8, 2009

The Launch Party

Sarah and I started the morning with some nice breakfast. I like to start the morning with a hot mug of 'essence of life'. That's right you guessed it, chamomile tea. Ha hahahahaha! I'm sure that's what you were thinking. *wink, wink, nudge, nudge* We killed some time watching some TV, got ready and armed with a map of Toronto, took to the streets and used public transportation.

After a long bus ride we caught a train downtown (took almost two hours >_<) and walked around a bit before we had dinner at an East side Mario's. We then got completely lost trying to find the C Lounge. We walked in every logical direction until we stopped, asked for help, and were finally pointed in the right direction.

"Wait a minute, we were going that way when the numbers started decreasing. We turned around and came this way but the numbers started decreasing again. Are you sure that's the right way?" I asked the security guard.

"Yeah, it's a little confusing. Downtown's kinda messed up." He said. Sarah and I hobbled down the street in our high heels cursing civil engineers everywhere.

We finally got the the C Lounge. Yay!!

It was a Greek themed party and all the staff were dressed in togas. I got a chance to thank the publisher, and say a few words. Met a lot of interesting people including actors, movie directors, writers, project managers, and others. It was fun. The entertainment for the night was a performance by the Samba Squad. I LOVE samba! video We had a blast.

Group photo!

My first book signing!

The night drew to a close and the club emptied. Sarah and I caught a cab back to the hotel. We stayed up talking about the evening and the opportunities that presented themselves. Sarah is also a writer. We watched movies until 3am, ordered room service for some late night a la mode chocolate fudge cake and split it as we chatted and laughed.

It was one good night!!

All stories and poems posted are
Copyright © 2009 by Stella Telleria
All rights reserved.