On the Need for an Integrated Transit Plan
Part 1: Expand the Inter-City Bus Network

Bus Shelter in SnowPhoto by Micael Widell from Pexels.

So, back in November, the editors of the Kitchener Post were kind enough to let me ramble on about public transportation for three weeks in a row. My objective was to propose a realignment of inter-city transportation in southern and southwestern Ontario. The file is being ignored by our provincial politicians, and various players are being allowed to operate in neglected isolation. It's time for this to change, starting with our inter-city bus network. Here's what I wrote:

Intercity bus service in desperate need

I speak a lot about public transportation issues on this column. I do so not just because I'm a transit fan, but because I think public transportation should be taken more seriously by people and the politicians they elect.

We have built ourselves an environment where we expect to navigate our lives with a car.

This ignores the fact that not everybody can afford a car. It ignores the fact that not everybody can drive one.

As we get older, more of us are going to fall into those categories. Medical issues will multiply to the point where it will not be safe for ourselves or others to get behind the wheel. When this happens, doctors have a duty to report such people to the ministry of transportation. The roads are safer for this.

And without public transportation, these people become prisoners in their own home. In many of our neighbourhoods, it's not convenient to walk to work, to stores or to community services.

So, until the age of the electric self-driving car dawns, we have an obligation to our elderly, our children, and those struggling to make ends meet to ensure that some level of mobility is provided in our cities. It's the same reason why we need to keep our sidewalks shovelled this winter.

It would be nice if such a service could be provided by a profitable business, but we already subsidize our automobile use by billions of dollars in this province alone through tax-funded road maintenance and construction, not to mention free parking.

This is why, in 1945, most municipal public transit agencies across North America were profitable businesses and, by 1965, none of them were.

Earlier this month, Greyhound announced they were cutting bus service between Kitchener and Guelph. It was another in a series of frustrating announcements regarding service cuts by the agency over the past few years.

In its release, Greyhound blamed GO Transit for the service cuts, even though GO Transit doesn't provide bus service between Kitchener and Guelph.

In my opinion, Greyhound's frustrations were misplaced. The real cause of their lost profitability is the highly subsidized automobiles they share the road with.

True, GO Transit is subsidized -- albeit by the lowest percentage of any transit agency in North America -- but we acknowledge that GO's subsidy is an investment in the economy of south-central Ontario.

Without GO Transit, our workers would be a lot less productive, stuck in traffic, and we would have to raise taxes to pay for the increased road construction and maintenance.

Greyhound can't make a profit with its select routes because it doesn't have GO's network to feed them, but they cannot profitably operate GO's network of routes at the required service levels, or else they would have already done so.

With a provincial election on the horizon, the time has come to acknowledge the need for enhanced public transportation across this province, starting with our intercity buses. We need to buy out Greyhound's remaining routes and incorporate them into GO Transit's network.

Imagine being able to catch GO buses in Kitchener and riding them to Guelph, Hamilton or Aldershot to connect with the GO services there. Imagine if the Greyhound Toronto Express charged GO fares instead.

And we need to apply this thinking outside of south-central Ontario. The intercity bus network of southwestern Ontario is beyond anemic, now. This means increased isolation within those communities.

They deserve better, and so do we.

Dear Diary

Writing with Coffee

Sixteen years later, I'm still here.

I suppose that's good news.

I haven't been posting here as much as I should, but I haven't ever gotten up the courage to shut down this blog, or say goodbye, or repurpose things. And I think only part of the reason is because it's been going for so long.

Looking back, I am amazed at all of the changes this blog has been here for. The birth of my daughters, the fall of the Liberal government. The rise of the Conservative government. The fall of the Conservative government, and the rise of the Liberals again. I remember when this blog had a lot more traffic, and there was a Canadian blogosphere community out there, where we engaged in dialogue, like a nationwide coffee klatch.

Five years ago, the air went out of the Canadian blogosphere. Blogs became passe, and the audiences moved to Twitter and Facebook. And then we sort of drifted apart.

But I'm still here because now that this is no longer a blog, it is a diary. It is a journal. I can still practise my writing. Looking back on my posts have brought up memories that would otherwise have been forgotten. As before, this blog is about me, and as I continue to benefit from it, so it will continue to be about me.

Besides, in the near future, I may have some promotional work to do with soon-to-be-released books.

In the meantime, it has been shockingly busy, here. I've powered through no less than five non-fiction book commissions this past month. They say freelance work is either feast or famine, and these past few weeks have been pretty feasty. I do like the work, although I'm disappointed that I've not been able to keep working on The Sun Runners. Still, perhaps later this month, as the non-fiction projects ebb, I'll be able to push on. I'm over 72,000 words on this project, and am hopeful of finishing a draft of the novel by the end of March.

And I have a new idea rattling around my brain. It's sort of a sequel to The Sun Runners, in that it's in the shared universe. I've greatly enjoyed setting up the universe of the colonies of Earth dealing with the fact that the Earth has collapsed. The next volume will deal with Venus and Mars, and how these two sisters rework their relationship once Mother Earth slips away. I'm calling it The Cloud Riders. Maybe I'll have a scene to show you later.

Sixteen years ago, I was unpublished, and had just started working on the story that would become The Unwritten Girl. Today, I have over fifty books with my name on them, including four fiction novels. Sixteen years from now, God willing, I will be 61. My daughters will be adults, and the world may be a very different place indeed.

And maybe, just maybe, we can read all about those changes here.

The Importance of Fonts


Getting into my car and pulling out of a small shopping plaza, I look up at the door to the store in front of me and, for a moment, think, “who on Earth wants to buy Mens and Ladies Guts?”

Contemplating Failure, Seven Years Later


Photo by Garon Piceli from Pexels.

I was reminded by Facebook the other day that, seven years ago, I gave up on The Night Girl. I'd started writing the story in July 2003, and I finished the first draft in June 2007. It was a substantial departure from my previous three novels. It was more mature, and I'd gained the confidence to try for more overt comedy. I'd taken an idea that Erin had given me (that the TTC, in building new subways, had "delved too greedily and too deep, and disturbed that from which they fled") and just run with it. I was an exhilerating experience.

Then, four years later, after the publication of my Unwritten Books series, I'd come up with exactly bupkis in terms of selling the book to publishers. Moreover, my formative editor, Barry Jowett, had explained to my formative agent, in detail, why The Night Girl was not the right book for me at this time, if I wanted to have a break-out novel.

A few things softened the blow. For one, I hadn't stopped writing with The Night Girl. I pressed on with ideas, producing drafts of The Dream King's Daughter and Icarus Down, and winning Ontario Arts Council Works in Progress grants for both of them. If I couldn't publish The Night Girl, I at least had these more marketable books to fall back on. And Icarus Down was as much a departure for me as The Night Girl had been, earlier. I felt good about that book, and knew it could be my break-out moment.

But I was still left to wonder what to do with The Night Girl: a 64,000 word story that I'd spent four years writing, and another four years revising and trying to sell. Eight years was a lot of work to just toss into the metaphorical dustbin. Should I create a website and serialize the novel for free, as a means of building my reader base?

I asked my agent at the time, John Cusick, and he suggested that I hold off on that plan. He saw potential in The Night Girl, and he wanted to have a chance to figure out how to rework it into something that could sell. Sadly, other things intervened which took me away from that agency, but I did find another great agent in the form of Emily Gref, who sold Icarus Down, and took a good long look at The Night Girl. She saw similar potential.

And the other thing that made Barry Jowett's earlier rejection of The Night Girl easier to handle was that he didn't just say 'no'. He offered tons of advice. It was daunting advice to be sure, but it was still good advice. Even the parts that I don't think would have worked in the book's favour isolated and revealed the real issues that I needed to address. Perpetua Collins was not a YA protagonist, he argued: 19 is way too old for such a character, but even if you age her down to 17 or, more preferably, 16 or 15, you're going to have to address the fact that this character is now of high school age, and why was she not in school?

The solution to that quandary was the understanding that the real problem was not that Perpetua was not a YA character, but The Night Girl was not a YA book. Even though this was a coming-of-age tale, this was not a story about high school drama. This was a story about first jobs and first adult relationships. I was expecting teenagers to read a book full of office humour. No wonder my 30-year-old readers were enjoying this tale more than my 14-year-old ones.

Under the guidance of Emily, who'd helped me work Icarus Down into a good enough shape to sell to Scholastic Canada, I threw The Night Girl into the dustbin. Then I took it out, smoothed out the pages, opened a new Word document on my computer, and started rewriting the tale from the very beginning. I aged up Perpetua to 21. I added a new antagonist in the form of the faerie Christina Bell. I revised the social structure of the world to include the faeries. And I took liberally from those scenes which worked in the original Night Girl, and left out what didn't work.

We got interest from other publishers as a result, and finally an offer from REUTS Publications. The Night Girl will see print in Winter 2018-9.

So, what do we learn from this? Well, back in 2011, I was "contemplating failure", and my mother said that no writing is failure, even if it remains unpublished. The work put into making the first draft of The Night Girl made me a better writer, by encouraging me to take chances and push my envelope. And to make The Night Girl publishable, I had to push further beyond those boundaries and acknowledge that the story was not a YA novel but a "New Adult" one (or just a good old fashioned urban fantasy). I had to be brave enough to throw things away, and savvy enough to figure out what to pull out of the waste bin. And I guess the big lesson is: if you have something you like that you think has potential, don't give up on it. Maybe approach it from a new angle.

The journey is not quite finished. I still have a round of substantive edits to do for REUTS. Then there's line edits and copy edits. I look forward to seeing how the cover design turns out. Then there's marketing, release planning, all of that stuff. But the end is in sight, and I'm ever so grateful for this journey.

One Year Later


The first anniversary of my mother's death passed this past Sunday. It was much on all of our minds, but we've coped with it. Some of us are surprised at how well we coped with it, although I caution that sometimes we focus so much on the anniversary of such traumatic events, we're unprepared for how much harder the days after that anniversary turn out to be. But, still we cope.

I haven't had much energy to put into this blog, but I have been keeping busy. I've maintained a steady pace of roughly two-to-three non-fiction kids books since this past September, which I'm grateful for and proud of the results. My column with the Kitchener Post continues, and I surprised myself by making considerable progress on The Sun Runners and a potential sequel (inasmuch as it's set in the same universe) tentatively entitled Pen Pals. Actually, I'm already over 2,000 words into Pen Pals, though Erin tells me that I must finish The Sun Runners first. Either way, I think my mother would be pleased about that.

The weather was brutally cold until just a few days ago, and then suddenly became so warm that a good half of our accumulated snow melted. And just when we were thinking "January thaw", we've been issued with a flash freeze warning. The temperature has dropped by 12 degrees Celsius in the span of four hours. At least it's not raining at the moment, where I am, or else we'd have a coating of ice. We still might, from all the puddles.

Erin's hard at work on a new project that is involving Vivian. Nora has told us that she wants to be known more as "Eleanor". I'm proud of her for choosing her own name (and we named her as such in the expectation that she might), but it's going to be a significant adjustment _not_ to call her Nora. She's been trouping off to school, destroying her competitors at Math games, and fixing her own lunches. How quickly (and differently) they grow up.

It's grey now, and it doesn't seem fair to be losing the warmth after too brief a thaw, but I expect we'll have some bright days ahead. The Polar Vortex at least graces us with clear blue skies. And we continue to look forward to spring.

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