Me am so dumb

All my plans are set and I'm going to Ottawa tonight to tell tales of boo and fright.

Except now I've just found out that the storytelling night that I thought was tonight is ACTUALLY next Thursday. So I'm going down to Ottawa a day early for nothing.

Drat. I'm such a idiot.

In the meantime, enjoy your Halloween/Samhain festivities tonight! Take a moment to remember the loved ones who have passed on, give thanks to the loved ones you still have with you, and kiss a witch if you can!

Spooky Stories

Halloween is nearly upon us, so in the spirit of the holiday, I invite you to take a listen to some spooky tales at The Moonlit Road. For those of you who have heard me tell the story of The White Dress, this is the site where I found that story.

Every month or so, there's a new tale on the website. You can either read the tale on the website or you can listen to it being told (via RealPlayer). The site specialized in scary stories from the southern United States, so you can guarantee a shiver or two!

In other news, the Dracula show that I worked on (and that the Midnight Players will be performing live on TV) will be airing tomorrow night at 8 pm. If you live in the Kingston/Toronto area and can get channel 13 (Cogeco Community channel), take a gander at it!

I'll be spending this Halloween in Ottawa telling frightful tales (probably The Dead Don't Pay). Hopefully I'll impress a few people and be invited to tell tales in next year's festival in Ottawa. Wish me luck!

Fair Exchange

I've recently realized that in all of my friendships, I'm very much into meeting at the half-way mark.

There was a time when I would be bending over backwards to do stuff that would allow me to befriend someone, but those were more desparate days. Now in my curmudgeon days, I'm not willing to do all the work to make a friendship function. I'm only willing to meet half-way. I'll put in my two cents if you'll put in your two cents. I know this sounds like I'm keeping a detailed score, but I'm not. It doesn't even have to be an equal exchange. Sometimes, it's just the thought that matters.

I had to take this stance at one point several years because I suddenly realized that some of my "friends" were taking abusive advantage of my good and generous nature. The hard truth came to me through an off-hand remark an aquaintance had made in a discussion about possible Halloween costumes. I was saying that I wanted to find a costume that suited my personality, at which point he turned to me and said with a smirk "Why don't you go as a puppet?"

The weight of that statement came crashing down upon me, making me realize that I had let these people yank me around in the name of friendship and that for all I had done for them, I received very little back in return. It was at that point that I started taking note of who deserved my time and attention.

If someone does something for me, then I do my best to return the favour. Of course, that doesn't mean that I'll sit back and wait for other people to make the first move. If I can help you out, then I will and without hesitation. But I do so with the expectation that I will have this good deed returned to me in some reasonable form in a reasonable amount of time.

Sometimes a simply heartfelt Thank You is enough. Sometimes it's a helping hand when I ask for it. Sometimes it's a helping hand when I didn't ask for it. But if I keep pouring energy into someone and I don't get anything back from it, then it's promptly shut off and I wait for some of that energy to be returned. If it never comes back, so be it. The energy I put into it was needed at the time and probably wasn't wasted, but I can only put out so much before I need to be refueled myself.

This system has allowed me to filter out the True Friends from the Casual Friends and the Mooches. Of course with any filtering system, there's a downside. Sometimes I can be a bit paranoid about being taken advantage of, which makes me appear as insecure (Hell Bells... that might be the definition of insecurity!). This is problem that I'm always trying to stay objective about ("There isn't a conspiracy around every corner, Mulder") and for the most part, I keep a handle on it.

But for people who have proven themselves to be True Friends, I will still bend over backwards to help in any way they need me because I know they will be there when I need them.

And they have. And they are. And they will. And for them, I will more than cross the half-way mark because they were willing to meet me half-way. No regrets. No looking back.

P.S.: This post is not borne of a recent event. I've been tossing the explanation of this concept for a few months now. I thought I'd give it a stab at it today. Please don't feel like I'm directing this to anyone in particular.

Oogly Boogly

We celebrated Halloween a week early this year at T and A's Annual Costumed Bash. E very graciously agreed to play Morticia to my Gomez, and quite frankly, she carried it off better than I did. You go girl!

Being a largely theatrical and dramatic crowd of people, the costumes were imaginative and carefully prepared. E was impressed by the quality of the costumes. It was obvious that people spent time and effort putting these costumes together. It was more than just cutting two holes in an old bedsheet. These people actually designed their costumes.

Check out the pictures I took and the pictures that Scott took and you'll see what I mean. Ceri also recorded a hilarious conversation that supposedly took place between these two characters.

This is going to be a big storytelling week for me. I told stories at the MPRC Samhain fair on Saturday, I'll be telling again at the CUPS Fair today, then again on Wednesday at the Frasier-Hickson Library, and finally in Ottawa for their storytelling festival.

And this is my last week at Softimage with no hope of re-extension of my contract. I'll miss the people, the technology, having my own office, and the free ice tea.

Onward and upward!

Bill's up to something

Last night, I was meeting E down at the Old Dublin for a pint and I couldn't help but notice a gigantic cocoon hanging in the parking lot. I looked around for Brian Denehey, but he was nowhere to be found.

Then this morning, it became a bit clearer. Up the street from Softimage I saw a giant butterfly hanging in a parking lot. I whispered, "It's Bill. He's up to something."

Anybody know what's going on? What's Billzebub Gatecifur up to in our fair city? I keep expecting to see the Blue Screen of Death popping up in the windows of the surrounding buildings, but to no avail.

It's only a matter of time though, right?

Memory Drift

Autumn (the season, not the person (although she's cool too)) is by far my favorite season. The chill in the air, the colours, the crackles and crunches from falling leaves, and the crisp scent transition between summer and winter fills my senses.

This is when I become entranced with memories. Friends, family, lovers, mistakes, regrets, accomplishments... the memories of these snatches of time drift into my soul's eye in yellows, oranges, and reds. Sometimes they fill me with love and wonder. Sometimes I laugh at the craziness of them. Sometimes they can be difficult to relive.

But they are always colourful. Hand me that rake.

Beer, Blood, and Blah

Oooff.. I'm tired this morning.

On Saturday night, I met up with my childhood friend Lynn down at Hurley's Irish Pub. Solstice was playing, which guarenteed good foot stomping music. Lynn and I have basically known each other since Grade One, waaaaayyy back when we were just tykes at St. Vincent's Elementary School in Ste. Foy.

Lynn and I were never really close friends, but I liked her and she liked me (at least, as much as our Schoolastic Social Hierarchy would allow). She now lives in the West Island, but will soon realize her Haligonian aspirations sometime in the next year when she gets transferred out to Halifax. Oooooh... I'm envious! But at least that means I'll know one person out that way when I finally decide to move out that way.

Two pics from that night: The one Lynn begged me to delete (heh) and a pic of Lynn and myself.

Getting home at 3 am makes for a very bleary-eyed Dave who had to be ready at 9 am to speed off to Kingston with Arin, Ron (aka The King of Canada), and Taras. When we arrived in Kingston at 12:30 pm, we headed straight to the COGECO TV station to meet up with Anthony Mann (the founder of the Midnight Players). After a brief production meeting with the crew, we started to rehearse on the TV stage. You can click here to see the pictures from that.

Unfortunately, I'm not in any of these pics 'cause I was taking them. When we got around to my taping session, we forgot to take a pic of me. Drat.

We started with the reading of the play manuscript infront of the cameras, and when that was rehearsed a few times, we moved into a creepy part of the basement.

My contribution to this production was as Prof. Maximillian Shrek, a folklorist fully-versed on the history of Vlad the Impaler, the real-life persona behnd the Dracula legend. I was dressed in a thick gray sweater (the horse-blanket, as I like to call it) and I let my beard get a bit scruffy for a more realistic look. With a few well-placed lights, I began to tell my story of the history of Vlad III Dracula. I got too see the recording afterwards in the editing room. It came out better than I expected, if I do say so myself.

Looking back on it, I wish I could've been a bit more relaxed about the recording. I've never performed in front of a camera before. Having this cycloptic doo-hickey recording your every move can really be intimidating when you're not used to it. There was some unexpected noises coming from upstairs which threw me off, but I wish I had had the presence of mind to just incorporate them into the performance (by looking startled momentarily and then continuing cautiously, as if I were revealing secret information).

Oh well... hopefully I'll get plenty more chances in front of the camera to redeem myself. In the meantime, the taped and live portions of this show will be aired on October 31st on the COGECO station (channel 13 in the Kingston-Toronto area).

Very exciting stuff.

I'm going to be on TV, blah

This weekend, I'll be going to Kingston to shoot a staged interview for a TV special to be aired on the 31st of October. The plotline is that some lost Bram Stoker manuscripts were unearthed recently that revealed the true nature of his famed Dracula (otherwise known as Vlad III The Impaler).

Taras and Arin will be reading the newly revised play live on a TV set (in full period costumes on a set of some kind) on the 31st, but before this live performance takes place, there will be two "experts" who will talk about the history behind Prince Vlad of the House of Basarab. I'll be playing one of those experts.

This show is being produced by a TV station in Kingston and broadcast in a viewing area that reaches somewhere between Kingston and Toronto (a 75000 person viewership, I think). When this is all done, the whole TV special will be available on video and DVD, in case you're interested. Wow... my own DVD! Should I start building my display case for those little bald gold statues now?

So I'm learning all I can about our old pal Vlad and the notorious goings-on in Wallachia. While facinating, it's pretty gruesome stuff. Vlad was one sick puppy.

Still, some of the folklore is pretty interesting. Apparently Veracity Vlad valued honesty above all else and was particularly brutal with dishonest people. Here are two stories I found interesting from the Book of Vlad:

The Golden Cup

Dracula was known throughout his land for his fierce insistence on honesty and order. Thieves seldom dared practice their trade within Dracula's domain – they knew that the stake awaited any who were caught.

Dracula was so confident in the effectiveness of his law that he placed a golden cup on display in the central square of Tirgoviste. The cup was never stolen and rermained entirely unmolested throughout Dracula's reign.

The Foreign Merchant

A merchant from a foreign land once visited Dracula's capital of Tirgoviste. Aware of the reputation of Dracula's land for honesty, he left a treasure-laden cart unguarded in the street over night. Returning to his wagaon in the morning, the merchant was shocked to find 160 golden ducats missing. When the merchant complained of his loss to the prince, Dracula assured him that his money would be returned and invited him to remain in the palace that night.

Dracula then issued a proclamation to the city – find the thief and return the money or the city will be destroyed. During the night he ordered that 160 ducats plus one extra be taken from his own treasury and placed in the merchant's cart.

On returning to his cart in the morning and counting his money the merchant discovered the extra ducat. The merchant returned to Dracula and reported that his money had indeed been returned plus an extra ducat. Meanwhile the thief had been captured and turned over to the prince's guards along with the stolen money.

Dracula ordered the thief impaled and informed the merchant that if he had not reported the extra ducat he would have been impaled alongside the thief.

Validation

I was chatting with a friend of mine about this burning desire aspiring writers have to be published. My friend insisted that getting published would validate his writing; it would validate him and his talent as a writer.

Maybe it's because I've spent over nine years in the professional writing business and I already know the thrill of seeing your work printed and bound. Don't get me wrong: it's a rush to hold the finished copy in your hands.

But the difference between being a professional writer and being a creative writer is, sadly, the money (and how regularly you get the paid). I was paid while I was writing the books I produced (and paid fairly well). Despite what you might have heard, even in technical writing, there's a fair amount of creativity that you need to employ to write a good User's Guide.

There a big difference between getting published and receiving acclaim for your publications. There are millions of published books out there, but only a handful of them get noticed by anyone with a critical eye. And often, when the publications do get some acclaim, it has more to do with politics than talent.

It gives that validation a bit of a hollow ring, doesn't it?

But even if you get published and acclaimed, you're still defining the quality of your work based on other people's opinions. If you don't believe in the quality of your own writing, then no amount of publishing, acclaim, or nice words will make you feel any more validated.

You have to believe that your work is good enough to be published. It's not in the act of publishing that your work will suddenly be good or that you will feel any more validated about your own self-worth (this is more of a warning than a prediction).

Once you believe this in some measure, the act of creating (whatever form that creation might take) will suddenly bring more satisfaction than the possibility of distribution to the masses. After that, if you actually do get published (and even noticed), this will add to your confidence rather than replace it, giving you the strength and motivation to continue.

Now go and create something beautiful. Not because someone else might think it's pretty, but because you know it's wonderous and needs to be expressed.

"Believe half of what your read, none of what you hear, and everything you write." -- Unknown

Foggy brain

I went to celebrate Tarasmas on Sunday night (Taras' birthday). It was a small party, but the people were fun. And to those who couldn't make it, we know who you are because you were missed.

There was something I was supposed to blog about (something to do with the lovely lady carressing Marc's cranium and a floppy rubber penis being waved about), but between the Scotch, beer, and Amanda nibbling on my neck, I can't remember what it was I was threatening to write about.

And damn me for not bringing my digicam. Drat!