Then I realized that the elderly gentleman wasn’t riding a scooter, he was riding a motorized wheelchair, except that it was made up to look almost like a Vespa.

And I thought to myself, that’s a good idea. While the mobility offered by these motorized assistance devices is invaluable, there’s still a stigma attached to these devices, but if you think about it, not much separates a motorized wheelchair with handlebars from an electric scooter or small motorcycle like a Vespa, except speed. But while one does not expect a motorized wheelchair to travel with the speed of a Vespa, there’s no reason why it shouldn’t look like one, now is there? How much better will that individual feel if he rides around in one of these, saying to himself, yes, it’s a motorized wheelchair, but I look good in it. I look damn good!

That’s a million dollar idea, right there.

Nora with a hamper full of dress-up clothes. This is the result. Good times. Good times.

My latest column for the Kitchener Post is here. I have to say that I really like finely balanced hung parliaments. They always make for interesting copy. At least, in my opinion.

We stayed home this weekend. The kids were able to entertain themselves with the neighbourhood kids and the good weather. Erin and I have been busy cleaning and also doing work-related projects. More on that later, I hope! Stay tuned.

For those who don’t know it, the lyrics are here. The song tells the story about a mysterious young woman walking alone on a shore who is spotted by the captain of a ship. Struck by her beauty, the captain bribes his men to kidnap her and bring her to his ship (“after much persuasion, they got her aboard”), whereupon she sings the whole crew to sleep, and then robs them blind before paddling her way back to shore with the captain’s own broadsword, telling him sternly that what happened on board stays on board (“I’m a maiden again on the shore”). Lyrically, it’s beautiful, and singable. But Vivian is now definitely old enough to follow along, which leads to her saying:

“Daddy? What’s a maiden?”

(long pause) “Uh… a maiden is an unmarried woman.”

“Oh. So, what’s an unmarried boy, then, Dad?”

“That would be a bachelor.”

“If I were the Captain, I’d just stay with the maid on the shore.”

To which Nora pipes up, “No! I’d sail away!!”

“But Nora! We could be married. As Captain, I’d cook and clean for her.”

“No! Sail away!!”

“But I would make us breakfast every day! And bunk beds!”

And I quietly press skip ahead to the next song…

I have been sending The Night Girl through a local writing critique group, and getting some good feedback on the early chapters. The fellow writers in the group are supportive, but they also don’t shy away from constructive criticism. So, it’s definitely worthwhile to run this story by them and see how they react to it as first readers.

By chance, I ended up being the only male in this writing group, and while the others have generally approved of my characterization of Perpetua, they do note some issues that I failed to touch upon but which, realistically, a nineteen-year-old girl would probably have at the top of her mind.

To wit: Perpetua is going for a job interview at an office that’s located in a sub-sub basement in one of the office towers of downtown Toronto. After hours. Indeed, other than T.P. Earthenhouse (who reveals that he is a goblin), she’s the only one there. And just a few minutes beforehand, another woman came screaming out from the stairwell.

Is it realistic that Perpetua would enter this office, much less stay there when confronted by the strangeness of Earthenhouse? Well, they didn’t reject it outright, but they did want to know more about Perpetua’s thought processes that resulted in her staying in that chair. Why didn’t she just turn and run out the door?

Well, the real reason is that if she did, we wouldn’t have a story, but that’s not an explanation worth anybody’s salt. So, I’ve tried to provide them with a legitimate one. The revised scene is below the cut:

Another remarkable video from OK GO… This time, remarkable in its simplicity.

We had the kids up past their bedtime tonight, but it was worth it. Some days, you just got to go down to your local Mount Trashmore, fly a kite, climb a tree, and watch the supermoon rise.

Even though the moon’s increased apparent size (due to proximity) was akin to comparing a 16-inch pizza to a 15-inch pizza (as noted by astronomer Neil DeGrasse “Killjoy” Tyson), the kids were impressed as we saw the moon actually rise, and I think they really enjoyed the evening.

Early one morning, I was woken up by Vivian’s shouting and carrying on. Very quickly, it was clear what was upsetting her.

“Spider! Spider! SPIDER!!!”

I ran into her room and found her standing on her bed pointing at the wall. “Spider! Spider! SPIDER!”

I’m still pretty addled with sleep, so it takes me a minute to spot what she’s pointing at.

“Spider! Spider! SPIDER!!!”

But, sure enough, there it is: a little daddy longlegs is crawling up the wall.

So I did what any father would do. I swung my hand and crushed the thing like a bug. WHAM! The spider fell lifeless to the floor.

Vivian stared astonished for a long minute, then glared at me. “I didn’t say to KILL it!!”

After staying with us since Easter, Grandma Rosemarie is heading home. The kids and everyone here will miss her. We all had a great time in this month of birthdays. She’ll be back on the 26th, though, as Erin and I prepare to head off on our train trip to Vancouver. Looking forward to that.

I have to admit that one of the things I enjoy about going to the movies is going to see the “coming soon” trailers. They can be little bursts of excitement that get you pumped to see the movie you’re actually there to see, or they can be things to laugh at.

A case in point for the latter is an upcoming movie starring Liam Neeson called, simply, Battleship.

A movie, which says up front that it’s “based on the classic board game by Hasbro”.

When Erin and I heard this, we both burst out laughing in the theatre. And when we saw some clips of the movie, we laughed even harder. Apparently, there are aliens involved in this movie. I guess when you start with a blank slate of “let’s make a movie based on a simple board game”, you as a screenwriter stare at at your typewriter for hours on end before downing shots of bourbon and shouting, “screw this! I’m throwing in aliens!”

There is a scene where an alien ship raises a wall of water which surrounds the fleet. A seaman shouts, “they’re raising a barrier, sir!”, and I added, “and, look, a grid has appeared on the ocean! We’re on G-ten, sir!”

We quite enjoyed The Hunger Games, and talked a lot about it as we went home. We also spent some time talking about Battleship, which I called the dumbest idea ever to hit movies in the history of movies. But Erin has a good point: there are dumber ideas out there.

They could make a movie out of Connect Four, for example. And rain coloured disks down from the sky.

Actually, that would be kind of a fun challenge to try and make a movie out of that premise.

Further Reading

• Over at Dr Dawg’s Blawg, Stageleft has his interpretation of how different directors might approach the premise of Battleship
• Minesweeper, the Movie (courtesy Cameron Dixon).

Anybody who thinks that the phrase “may you live in interesting times” was just a Chinese insult clearly wasn’t a journalist or political junkie.

Nora (who will hereafter be referred to in my Kitchener Post column as “Daughter the Younger” with Vivian as “Daughter the Elder”, after a number of people corrected me saying that I couldn’t use “youngest” and “eldest” without the presence of a middle child. As no middle children are expected…) celebrated her fourth birthday this past Friday, with a grand occasion at her preschool, and a big celebration with grandparents Rosemarie, Pat and Eric that evening. We had a further echo of the celebration this Saturday afternoon, after inviting some of Nora’s neighbourhood friends over for a playdate.

As Nora reaches this landmark birthday — one of the first that I suspect she’ll remember into her adult years (I remember my third birthday) — I can’t help compare her to Vivian. I know you shouldn’t do that to your children, but it fascinates me how similar the two can be, and how different. When Vivian was four, she was gregarious enough to have a birthday party where friends from her preschool were invited to attend. That didn’t quite happen for Nora. While she loves to play and gets along with everybody, she hasn’t developed the same fast friendships that Vivian did at her age. And she doesn’t seem to be bothered by that at all.

Daughter the Younger is growing into herself. Early on, she knew just how to press her older sister’s buttons, and the two still fight like cats, but more and more I hear my children starting to have conversations with each other. Vivian has always been a negotiator (and could possibly solve the Middle East situation through sheer force of will), but Nora is indomitable and now she can say so.

They fight, which is something that flummoxes my father, frustrates Erin, and has more than a few people on Erin’s side of the family rolling their eyes and going “I told you so”, but the bond between them is also clear. They’re going to make a formidable team. When they’re not at each other’s throats, of course.

In other news, my latest column in The Kitchener Post is now online. It was written earlier this week after I encountered one construction diversion too many. And, yes, I really did shout at the air.

And I would like to report that I’m getting back on the horse with Icarus Down, after a rather encouraging ‘let-him-down-easy’ rejection by my most recent agent candidate. This time, I’ve sent out queries to three agents, and two further full-submissions (when Erin reported on Twitter that I’d been rejected and asked for agent suggestions, these two asked to see the whole manuscript).

None of these agencies require an exclusive look at manuscripts, and I’m finding that less agents are doing so, these days, which I greatly appreciate. After having Icarus Down in limbo for six months while I waited for a yea or a nay, I’ve resolved to myself: NO MORE EXCLUSIVE SUBMISSIONS. By hook or by crook, my book will be published.

I’ll keep you posted when there’s news.

While this news has been all over the media in northern Ontario, it merited barely a peep among southern Ontarians, which does much to suggest that northerners have a point when they argue that their part of the province is out-of-sight and out-of-mind when it comes to Queen’s Park and the southern media.

Around March 24, days that was flooded with news about the NDP federal leadership convention and the closure of the Yonge subway in Toronto, the McGuinty government quietly announced that, after nine years of supporting Ontario Northland Transportation Commission, the subsidies had become too onerous to pay, and the business as a whole was largely unviable. The only solution, they said, was to break up the corporation, sell off what could be sold off, keep only what was absolutely necessary, and shut down the rest.

One of the effects of this decision is to announce the eventual closure of the Northlander passenger train between Toronto and North Bay. Of course, as a transportation geek and a general lover of trains (especially passenger trains), this made me sit up and take notice. I’d ridden on the Northlander, for the first time, just six months ago. As one who believes that trains are an important economic and transportation investment that should be preserved (especially for the coming times of Peak Oil), this seemed short-sighted. Moreover, the Northlander was a community service, important to many livelihoods of rural Ontarians outside of the Greater Toronto Area.

Mind you, the fact that I, then a 39-year-old, had only just come to ride the Northlander, probably speaks volumes. And, frankly, the numbers just do not make me optimistic for the Northlanders’ future. The per-passenger subsidy of the train is substantial (as much as $200-$400, depending on the sources you consider). And, of course, there’s the $16 Billion deficit that hangs around the necks of all Ontarians. Public sector workers are being asked to take wage freezes, Ontarians earning over $500,000 per year are being asked to take a surtax. How can we justify spending money on a money losing service like the Northlander when alternatives, like buses, already exist south of Cochrane?

No date has been given for the last run of the Northlander. The New Democrats are calling for McGuinty to back down from his divestment plan, although the demand wasn’t included in the Liberal-NDP accord that passed the budget earlier this week and prevented an election. So, as it seems likely that I’ll soon not be able to ride the Northlander again, I’ve decided to take another trip up the line — this time to Bracebridge, to see what this place I’ve never been to is like.

The employees of the Northlander aren’t taking the shut-down plan lying down. There are protest signs saying “Ontario Northland NOT for sale!” at the ticket booth in Union Station and on the cafe car as well. The passengers on the train are commiserating with employees, talking about how important the train is to them, and how much better it is than bus service (especially for elderly passengers with mobility issues). The cafe-car employee is putting a brave face on things, saying that northern MPPs are fighting on, and nothing final has been announced, but there is a sense of pessimism here: that the cut will happen, and it will hurt.

Does it have to be this way? The fact is, one of the reasons the Northlander isn’t pulling the numbers it should is because precious little investment has been made in bringing the service to the attention of Torontonians. The line makes an excellent day trip to Muskoka (8:45 a.m. departure, arrival as far north as Huntsville by 11:40, 15:30 return departure, arrival at Union at 19:15), but doesn’t run on a Saturday. Where are the promotions for runs to see the fall colours? Or spring festivals? Or getting away for the weekend in summer?

The website developingthenorth.com also makes a strong (albeit hastily written — note the excessive typos — if you guys are reading this, you should have a look and correct) case for subsidizing Ontario Northland’s operations, noting that given the amount of money the province is investing in Metrolinx’s projects within the GTA, Ontario Northland could be rolled into this arrangement, increasing the per-rider subsidy of Metrolinx from $5 per passenger to $5.23.

That’s the response from the north end of the line. At the south end, Mark Dowling in Urbantoronto.ca makes a strong case for how the McGuinty government could make Ontario Northland relevant to the residents of the Greater Toronto Area. Paraphrasing and commenting on his points:

• The first stop north of Toronto is Washago, at the north end of Lake Simcoe and an extremely small community offering little in any way of commuter traffic for Toronto. The Northlander currently operates in reverse-commuting direction on the Richmond Hill GO station, but does not serve any of the stations (it used to serve Oriole in the past, but no longer). A stop at Langstaff would provide a quick trip from Downtown Toronto to Richmond Hill, and for northerners give them access to York Region Transit’s VIVA bus rapid transit network, and the 407 GO bus system, allowing them to more quickly access points in the GTA outside of downtown Toronto.
• There’s almost no integration with VIA Rail. If nothing else, McGuinty should consider farming out the Northlander service to the federal crown corporation (transferring ONTC personnel to VIA); not a stretch given that the federal government itself provides Ontario Northland with some subsidy.
• And speaking of integration with GO and VIA’s fare structure, the Ontario Northland ticket I bought looks far more like a Greyhound ticket than a VIA one or GO. I was unable to purchase a ticket online, and while it was possible to buy a ticket by phone, there was a $10 surcharge for this “privilege”. Fortunately, the ticket taker at Union station was polite and quick.

Mark has a number of other proposals that are worth looking at but at this point one should stop and ask: why isn’t the provincial government looking at them? While the numbers don’t look good for the Northlander, it does appear that this is primarily the result of provincial neglect. McGuinty’s government has not done enough to look at alternatives that could make the train service relevant to more people, and less subsidized.

The northwest passage is becoming a navigable seaway. Freight runs are already being established between Churchill, Manitoba and Murmansk. In the near future, a fair amount of economic activity is going to be shifting north. As problematic as these subsidies are in this age of deficits, it seems rather short-sighted for Ontario to be turning away from developing its northern infrastructure. It seems as though the province hasn’t considered all of the options that could make Ontario Northland a viable enterprise. It seems that the province is walking away from a substantial investment that could pay off well in the future.

And if this is the case, and the province does walk away, it will be another case of our governments being penny-wise and pound foolish. Which is a shame. And not just because it means another train becomes a fallen flag.

I haven’t been able to write on this blog this weekend, but I have been busy elsewhere. Not only have I been writing for my real estate client, I’ve contributed the following articles to Transit Toronto:

• A History of City Streetcars on Yonge Street (thanks to Pete Coulman for his help)
• The Battle of St. Clair (along with Robert Mackenzie’s wildly comprehensive chronology)
• A History of Fares on the TTC.

Read and enjoy if you’re a transit geek. Or even if not, enjoy!

This should firmly establish my geek cred as I push on into my forties. Not that my geek cred was in any way in question, I’m sure. Thanks to the good folks at Pixel Barrel for shipping this set over to me on my birthday.

I had a bit of a mope this afternoon. I finally heard back from an agent who had been considering Icarus Down for the past six months. The answer was not what I was hoping for. As rejections go, it was very positive, but still, it’s discouraging to be back at square one. Those of you who remember how many times I was rejected before Rosemary and Time became The Unwritten Girl should note that this struggle doesn’t always go away.

But, as they say: knocked down seven times, get up eight. I intend to get up. Monday, I’ll have the manuscript before other prospective agents.

Ten years ago today, I turned thirty. That was a landmark event, though not as landmark as today, which you’ll figure out why if you do the math.

The past decade of my life has been different from any other, because it’s been the only decade of my life that I’ve diligently logged through this online journal. Events that I would have forgotten are logged for posterity. Just trawling through the archives is an exercise in nostalgia, remembering trips, events, even television shows.

And it’s interesting to see how I’ve changed and grown these past ten years. That’s to be expected, I guess, given the life-changing things that have happened to me and to my loved ones. But I’ve also changed in smaller ways that are harder to chart, but only really come clear when one looks back at his writing from ten years ago.

Take this blog entry from April 30, 2002. What am I talking about there? Where I’d put subways if I had all the money in the world? Whatever happened to that man? Well, I’ll tell you: in 2002, I was looking forward to the opening of the Sheppard subway, and anticipating that once the line opened, more funding would come out of… somewhere, and we could finish the thing, and start building the downtown relief subway. Ten years later, where do we stand?

Not only have we wasted ten years looking for funding that simply did not exist, this has been the state of public transit since the last major pre-Sheppard extension of the subway network opened, in 1985. The year that I was thirteen was the year that Metropolitan Toronto agreed on the construction of the Network 2011 subway expansion proposal, which — read the name — was supposed to have been finished a year ago (although, by 1985, the schedule had slipped, and the transformation of the Eglinton West busway into a full-fledged subway was to open in 2014 instead). I was thirteen then. I’m forty now. How much longer am I to wait if we pursue unlimited subway development with limited transit funding? It’s been twenty-seven years of near futility. What’s the definition of insanity again?

Well, that wasn’t the only thing that was going on. In April 2002, I was taking my first steps out of Doctor Who fan fiction on a path that was giving me confidence to create my own fictional universes and write material that was publishable outside of fan-fiction and tv-tie-in circles. There are some pre-blog things that I’ve done and forgotten. One of those things that are still out there is my early attempts at Harry Potter fan fiction. This is both a blessing and a curse, I expect. Looking back ten years, it’s encouraging to see how far I’ve come, but looking back ten years at some of my material and all I can say is… yeesh (and even this is miles better from my earliest effort at fan fiction, begun when I was thirteen, and still in bloody print!)! But what was that about a journey of a thousand miles beginning with a single step?

At the time, of course, I was also working on the Trenchcoat Farewell Project, and as the title implies, I was saying good-bye to an important phase in my life when I immersed myself in the hobby of fan fiction and, I think, became a much better writer as a result. And, of course, it’s through fan fiction that I met some of the most important people in my life, not least of whom is Erin, my wife.

Ten years ago, Erin was also taking big steps forward into becoming a writer. We were a long way from Plain Kate, but we were both well ahead in that we knew what we wanted at the time. We’ve spent the better part of the intervening ten years trying to get it and I think, by and large, we’ve succeeded. We are a married couple who is making a decent living through our writing. I am constantly amazed at what we’ve achieved, and I’m grateful that the fates have aligned to allow this to happen.

Other Interesting Links from the Period

• Cameron Dixon and I co-author Doctor Who: Shepherd Moons (Cover)
• Snow on the ground on Monday, April 22, 2002. I have a hearty reaction
• The Full List