March 2011 – Mystery, fantasy and romance at the dangerous ends of the earth

With a Llama on Her Head: With Blisters on Her Feet

By Karen Abrahamson | March 28, 2011

Day two Lima and I have so many blisters I cannot believe it. This while wearing sandals I wore all through Cambodia with nary a problem. I don’t understand this. I have blisters on the balls of my feet and on the callus edges of my heels. I mean what’s up with that? I thought calluses were supposed to protect you from blisters. Sigh.

Anyway, I’ve walked lots and seen some, so let me regale you with it.

Lima sits on ocean cliffs in a spot Pizarro apparently chose after he was finished killing the last Inca King and Stealing his gold. Notthat those things are related or anything, but Lima wasn’t his first pick for the capital, nor was it the second, but it was the one that ‘took’, apparently because of the wide, flat-bottomed valley it sits in. Not that I’d know if we’re in a wide valley or not. I still haven’t seen mountains.

Barranco municipal square at twilight (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

The darn fog has barely lifted both days, but given the little I know about Lima it seems to be a place of broad, clean streets and friendly people. And pets. Limans (is that the right word) seem pretty devoted to their pets. My first day here I walked down to the sea cliffs and along the promenade that reminds me so much of the Vancouver Seawall. There were people jogging, people strolling and people making out under the statue of the lovers (that I could barely see for the fog). And there were dogs. Small fluffy ones, British bulldogs, German Shepards and even (thank goodness) a pair of Peruvian Hairless dogs that look a lot like a stockier Doberman Pincher, but with dark, almost hairless bodies and some even have bonded air on their foreheads that make them look like they’re wearing an incredibly bad toupee.

And there are cats. Yes, I managed to find them and I fell in love with Miraflores (the suburb I’m staying in). You see I wandered down to Parque Kennedy and there, in between the Municipal hall and the Cathedral I wandered into a wonderland of cats. There were black ones and calicoes and torties and every other color cats come in, and in every size and shape as well. Right under the sign that even I could understand that said “Don’t Abandon Your Cats Here”. Sure. Like that’s happening. Children play with and pat the kittens. The cats loll in the sun. Some kind soul has put out cat beds and plush cat houses so that it looks like there are ‘heaps o’ cats’ there. There’s even an older guardian of the cats keeping watch. I mean how can you not love this town?

Inside Monestary de Santo Domingo (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

So I ogled the cats and visited a ruin site in the City, and then caught a taxi to Barranco, the next suburb over, to see the old neighborhoods and the Puente de los Suspiros – the Bridge of Sighs. Unlike the bridge in Venice, this is nothing to do with people being dragged off to prison. Instead, this is a bridge dedicated to lovers. It is commemorated in romantic songs. All around it are quaint restaurants with little twosome tables set to watch the sun go down. There are Latin guitar players to serenade you, and flower sellers, selling perfect red roses, and to pay for all this are the lovers.

Let me tell you I felt out of place. EVERYWHERE you looked people were in love (or lust as the case may be) I saw more lip-locks than I could count. But it was kind of fitting given the sun finally came out in time to set.

I had dinner in Barranco, a Peruvian specialty of Anticuchos – brochettes of tender slabs of beef heart – and large white-kernel corn, with a drink of Chica Morades – a sweet drink made from purple corn. Lovely.

So today I went into central Lima, to the Plaza des Armas. I visited the cloisters of two monasteries, including their catacombs. Stepped into too many churches and watched the Changing of the Guard at the Presidential Palace. This involved a red-serge dressed marching band, and ranks of young soldiers with flashing bayonets and high kicks.

One thing that is very clear in Lima, there are security people everywhere. Outside banks and guarding parking lots, outside the palace the gates are barred and there are soldiers in large military vehicles with tactfully-covered submachine guns (who will grin at you as they talk on their cell phone). After the changing of the guard I decided to visit Plaza San Martin to see the statue of a mounted San Martin, the liberator of Peru. He was large and grand and the ubiquitous pigeons seemed to avoid him, but just under his horse’s chin was a lovely statue of Patria, the symbolic mother of Peru. She is supposed to wear a crown of flames, but something apparently happened in the translated instructions from Spain where llama means flame. To the statue makers it meant something else and so there is a lovely little llama on her head.

So while I sit here feeling sorry for myself about my sore feet, I remind myself of Patria. Heck, blisters will heal.

She has to wear a llama forever.

Patria andand her llama (and San Martin, too) (2011) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

Security and Travel –It’s not just the dangers of the road

By Karen Abrahamson | March 21, 2011

Sorting through the last few things I need to do for Peru, I’ve realized the numbers of actions I take to ensure security of myself and my belongings during travel and I thought they might be of value to others.

Child at a window in Kalpa, Northern India (2000) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

Thinking about security begins at home, because bad things can happen there while you are gone. Thieves work here as well as they do in a foreign country and if there is any chance they can learn you will be away (and there usually is) then you need to ensure your home is protected. Sure, you can cancel the newspaper and put in timers for lights, but the very fact you cancel your paper, or put a hold on our mail means that you’re sending a message into the universe that you’re not home.

In my situation, I took care of part of the concerns by having someone live in, but that isn’t always possible. My parents have had to deal with this a number of times when they have gone on extended trips. Often home owner’s insurance doesn’t cover you for extended absences. You need someone either in the home or checking the home frequently. This is especially the case in the cold weather months when a winter storm could mean a power loss and frozen pipes and flooding. Not what you want to come home to, especially if insurance won’t cover you because you haven’t had a house sitter while away.

The other consideration, especially when you have someone coming into your home, is to make sure your valuables are safe. For example, though I trust my cat sitter with their wellbeing, I know of others who have had house sitters and have found changes at home like computers reconfigured, and items missing. Worst of all are the creepy stories of someone rifling through your underwear and other private stuff.

To deal with this there are a few things I do. First, I always ask trusted neighbors to keep an eye on the place. Second, I remove everything of significant value like jewelry and either leave it with trusted friends, or place it in a safety deposit box. Along with the jewelry go my external hard drives for both my business and my writing computers in the hopes that even if the ‘Big One’ happens something will survive. Beyond my house and home, I also ask a neighbor to check my car and to start it a couple of times for me while I’m away. In the best of all worlds they would also take the car for a drive because it’s hard on the tires to be in stationary for a month. Last of all, I only give the house-sitter the minimum necessary keys and make sure I get them back immediately when I get home.

Okay. Home is safe. I hope. And the cats will be taken care of because I have left a long list of instructions and also have other people checking in on them.

That leaves me in another country, or in transit. With a backpack I used to always padlock the pack closed, but since 911 this doesn’t work. You are likely to find the lock cut off your pack and you in a foreign country with no solid lock. As a result I don’t lock the pack for the flight, but I do place it inside another bag, thus making it more trouble to break into. What I have is a large lightweight bag that can be broken down easily and stuffed into the bottom of my pack. This bag protects my bag from casual pilferage during flights into dodgy airports and also protects the backpack straps from getting caught in conveyor belt machinery.

When I’m traveling on foreign ground, I have a padlock for the pack’s top opening and also a bicycle chain so that the pack can be chained to something in my hotel room or to my bunk or seat on a train. I also carry electrician’s tape in case someone knifes the pack. The tape can fix just about anything.

For myself, I usually carry most of my traveler’s checks and cash in a money belt or pouch. Depending on the trip I might take both so that not everything is in one place. I also often wear a cross-shoulder purse which could be a target for thieves, but I wear a mesh photographer’s vest over the purse strap, so it isn’t exposed to knives. Finally, perhaps the best protection of all is confidence. Read your maps ahead of time and look confident and like you know where you are going when you are on the street. When you climb in a taxi on a dark night in a new city, make sure you have a map out and visible to the driver and act like you know where you are going, even if you don’t. This makes the driver less likely to drive you around to bump up the cost, or to drive you to places you don’t want to go. If you are arriving late at night, like I am, often you can arrange for the guest house or hostel to even pick you up at the airport.

Dhamayagyi Phato, the Pagan plains (1997) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

So there I am. I’m not pretty, but I’m as secure as I can be and I’m as ready to travel as I’m going to get.

I’ll be in touch next from Lima.

Saying Goodbye – guilt and cats and manuscripts

By Karen Abrahamson | March 19, 2011

There is nothing worse than having to walk out the door with two little feline faces gazing up at you with that “you’re not going to leeeeeaaaave us, are you?” look on their faces. Worse than kids, I think, because kids you can explain it to. Cats, however, they don’t get it and regardless of what anyone says, I know they pine when I’m not there.

No, this isn’t me anthropomorphizing my animals. My regular cat sitter has spotted the signs numerous times. I’m their pride leader – the alpha female—and when I’m gone, they go off their food. They start tearing things up when they never would before. Or they come rushing to the door and throw themselves at my cat sitter’s feet for pats, they are so starved for human attention.

Knowing this has made it very hard to travel without them. These cats actually travel very well and I swear they like to show off on their leashes for new people. When I’m forced to leave them at home for a business trip there’s always a guilty part of me that worries that I’m a bad pet owner. And of course I miss them and their warmth on my lap, Shiva acting like a mountain lion and peering down at me from atop the cupboards, and Ben chasing his tail every morning (he has yet to catch it). All the little rituals of catdom.

I’ve realized as I’m getting ready for this trip, that saying goodbye to my cats is a lot like saying goodbye to a manuscript. (Except, thank goodness, a manuscript doesn’t pine – does it?) For this length of time away I considered a variety of cat spas for the boys and I have to say there are some very nice ones, but it doesn’t matter the quality of the care, any cat spa is not their home and they won’t have the space to run that these two little bad boys need. As a result I managed to find a live-in house sitter. Making the choice to go this route is a lot like making decisions about whether to send a manuscript out to the world, or to self-publish.

With the traditional publishing route you need to assess your work for what kind of publisher might publish it. Consider what genre it is, but also consider whether it transcends a genre. For example, there are best sellers out there that are Science Fiction, but you won’t see them shelved in a science fiction section of a book store, because they are ‘bigger ‘ than a science fiction novel. An example is Jurassic Park. Harry Potter went far beyond Fantasy and the Thornbirds (gag) went beyond romance to family saga. For my cats, I knew they were ‘bigger’ than most cats –maybe not in size, but definitely in attitude and activity level.

You need to assess your manuscript to decide what publishers to send your work to, just as I had to assess whether a cat boarding situation might serve Ben and Shiva. Then you need to research your publishers to know whether they publish your kind of work. You need to identify an editor you think might be your target audience. A helpful place for this is Publisher’s lunch, or by listening to editor presentations, or reading their blogs. Then, or course, you need to edit and package your manuscript and get it out the door. I often find that this work – the business side of writing—is the toughest part of the whole ride, and I have to specifically schedule time to do it, or it won’t get done.

Self publishing is more like what I’ve done to arrange a home stay for my cats. It all falls to you to determine your product – cover, blurbs, and how the manuscript looks – just as I had to arrange exactly what I could live with for the boys. For the cats, this involved interviews and the cat sitter spending time with the boys.

For self-publishing, this takes patience and willingness to learn a whole new skill set and when you have the manuscript ready to go, it involves a whole new level of anxiety because although you’ve presumably done due diligence to make sure you’re your manuscript is decent and clean of mistakes, you are putting the work out there without having an editor tell you it’s perfect.

So you put it out there and the first time someone comes back to you to tell you it’s not perfect, you cringe. Just like a cringe when I learn the boys were lonely when I was gone. But in both cases I did what was right. I had to go, whether for business or to refill my soul with travel, and the manuscript –whether self published or published in the traditional sense—had to go too, because we’re writers, right?

And what we write is meant to be read.

Spring path along the Yukon River (2010) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

Packing Light – And Drowning in Electronics

By Karen Abrahamson | March 14, 2011

So I’m on the final countdown. Eleven days from now I’ll be on a plane heading towards Lima, Peru, on my virgin trip to South America. In between trying to get books finished and manage my business, I’ve been trying to pack and get my equipment in order. I’ve cleaned and packed my camera equipment. I’ve bought a lightweight computer. I’ve made plans to blog and I have my smart phone so I can keep in touch. I even have my kindle so I don’t have to carry a plethora of books.

There’s only one problem. I feel sick about it.

Photographing Angkor (2009) Note the camera backpack and tripod. — Photographing Angkor (2009) Photo (c) Selma Swaab. Note the camera backpack and tripod.

All this stuff weighs a ton. There are electrical cords and plug adapters and more plugs and batteries until I wonder whether I’m going trekking or to the office. I keep telling myself all this stuff will help my travel, but I guess I’ll reserve judgment until I hike my pack onto my back. Let me tell you about the changes the electronic age has made.

1. I don’t have to carry film. Instead I have a little external hard drive and numerous memory cards. This might not seem like such a big deal, but fifty to seventy-five rolls of high quality slide film are far heavier than you think, especially when you have to carry them on your back. Not only do they weigh a lot, they also take up a huge amount of space and time. I recall going through a SeaTac Security counter where they wanted to open and check each roll of film after I refused to let them put it through the x-ray. I had the time, so I stood there and let them do it, until they finally gave up. Seventy-five rolls is that much. Shooting digital on my last trip I shot over 3000 frames—the equivalent of about 86 rolls.

It’s interesting as I pack now. I’m using the large pack I took to India for three months and although this time I’m packing the same amount of clothes AND a sleeping bag, the pack is still almost empty compared to the old trip because of the lack of film. Which means a lighter pack and more room for the souvenirs and gifts I inevitably bring home.

2. Think books. There’s a guidebook to Peru that I’ll still carry, though I have it on Kindle also. (I always have a backpacker’s guide like Rough Guide or Lonely Planet). Right there, you have a heavy tome. Then any books you might want to read over a month or so away and you have a few more pounds. So this time I have my kindle loaded up with far more books than I know I’ll get a chance to read, but better to have too many than not enough. One of my most horrendous memories is of being caught in Burma with only the Thornbirds to read. Twice. I still shudder.

3. The telephone. Before cell phones took over the world I’ve had to waste a day wandering around to find a pay phone, stand in line and then make connections from whatever backwater I happen to be in. Having the smart phone will help out with e-mail and keeping in touch, so though it’s an additional weight I think it’s a weight that will save me in time. On the other hand it’s going to keep me more connected and that isn’t always a good thing when I’m trying to focus on the place I’m in.

4. The computer. Let me just say I always journal when I travel. It’s the best way I know of to record the events, the feel and emotion of a place. Often I’ll write myself to sleep and wake up the next morning and write more before I go off on the day’s new adventures. Having the computer presumably means I can do this electronically, but I’m not sure if I will, even if I need it to blog. I have always carried coiled notebooks. A notebook can’t break down and can be salvaged if it falls in a river. A notebook is less attractive to steal and a pen or pencil still feels more real in my hand when I travel. However I have to say that after filling four or five notebooks on my India trip, there may be room for computers though I feel both more vulnerable and excited to try this out.

Early Morning journalling on the balcony, Phnom Penh (2009) Photo (c) Selma Swaab.

So for this trip to a new continent, I’m trying a new form of travel: One that’s a little lighter and that comes with a whole lot more (electrical) connections.

If I don’t get hit over the head by someone trying to steal it.

Or fall in a river.

Routine, Flexibility and Permission (oh my)

By Karen Abrahamson | March 12, 2011

I broke routine this morning and slept in until almost seven a.m. The weird thing is, the cats broke routine, too, and let me. Usually they are right there, yelling, or pouncing on me (see here for a wonderful cartoon of the experience), or else Ben will go into the kitchen and bang cupboards or otherwise wreak destruction to get me up. After all, cat tummies are far more important than my beauty sleep.

But this morning they broke routine. Actually they’ve ‘broken’ routine for the past week or so, ever since the corner of my bedroom started to seriously collect things for my trip. Last night I actually began the task of inventorying and packing. I think I have them nervous. I think they know I’m going somewhere soon. After all, they’re far from stupid. But the simple act of letting me sleep is consistent with other behavioral changes they are showing. For example Ben actually managed to crowd onto my lap and fall asleep while I was typing yesterday afternoon, when usually he just plants himself on top of my desk and pushes everything else to the floor. He also made a point of sleeping on my lap last evening. Definitely things are up.

We all know cats have routines and heaven help us if we vary from anything that impacts their feeding, brushing or taking them for walks. (Yes, mine go for walks on leashes.)

Shiva wanting to catch a fly (2010) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

As writers we need those routines, too. For me it has always been a routine to get up at 5:30 and write for two hours before I have to turn to work. I’ve done that for the past ten years and produced about four books a year, until this January when I was ‘forced’ to give it up.

Okay, not forced. I chose to give up. There I was in the middle of manuscript revisions and I just couldn’t do it anymore. I was over my head with work and preparing for this trip and had started having nightmares. So something had to give. It was a horrible choice. The guilt was enormous and so was the feeling of failure. But it was also a relief because I was hating everything I was doing because I didn’t have the time to do it well.

A friend of mine recently went through a similar experience for totally different reasons. He moved, due to a job change and then had to spend his time moving in and focusing on the new job. Time passed. He didn’t write. He blogged (here) about the challenge that posed for him because he, like myself, has been regimented about his writing and is a spectacular writer who recently sold his first four book series. His pain is that during his move he hasn’t written a word.

To me the ‘not writing’ has been a lot like what going through nicotine withdrawal must be like. I still find myself at the computer early in the morning, I know I should write (and I do—on work), but the most I’ve been able to write creatively has been these blogs. I tell myself it’s okay, but I know it’s not because it’s very easy to fall out of a habit that’s good for you and very easy to fall into a habit that’s not –like sleeping in.

On Thursday I received a phone call from the airline that is taking me to Peru. They advised that the flight times had changed and therefore I have to leave a day early and layover in Toronto overnight. Thanks goodness my schedule as a consultant is a little flexible. I was able to do it, even if it’s going to be tight for work. Be flexible, I said.

So I’ve decided that writers need to follow my cat’s lead and give themselves permission. Instead of being rigid and getting anxious about not writing, writers need to assess their situation and give themselves permission to not write. Occasionally the world intervenes, like my friend’s move, like another friend’s illness, like another friend dealing with a death in the family. I know all of them are back at the keyboard.

And I know I’m a writer, so I’ll be blogging while I’m travelling and writing when I get back from Peru. That’s promise, just as surely as I know Ben and Shiva will be back to caterwauling in the morning.

Shiva, imposing himself on thanksgiving dinner (2010) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

Wiggle Room – the Chinese army and finding the time for a creative life

By Karen Abrahamson | March 7, 2011

I’ve heard it said that if you want something done, ask the busiest person you know and they will accomplish it. Somehow these people have the ability to stretch a little more out of a minute or hour to get the conference planned, or the new report written. These people amaze me. Actually, I think they intimidate the heck out of me, because I am constantly finding myself scrambling trying to get things done and regretting my inability to say ‘no’ to new work. Of course, too much work impacts my ability to find time for my writing.

How do these people do it? Do they really have the magical ability to expand time?

Yak at Qinghai Lake (1998) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

Of course the answer is ‘no’ (at least I don’t think too many of us have Hermoine’s magic watch), but these people have tricks that help them get things done. I figure I must have a few as well as I am frequently being asked where I find the time to write, or travel , or blog.

The first thing one must do is decide if writing or travel is something you really want to do. For me, there were years of frustration about finding the time to write and the time to market my writing until a friend and mentor made the suggestion that I treat myself as a one of my clients. You see, I work for myself as a consultant and I schedule my time based on the work a client has asked me to do. The suggestion was helpful to me because it did two things:

1. It got me to schedule time;

2. It legitimized my writing and got me to take it as seriously as I take my paying work.

The first of these points speaks to organization, a key point if you are trying to fit writing into your life. Along with organizing your life to allow writing time, you must obtain the buy-in from significant others like spouses and friends – otherwise expect writing time to be a constant source of relationship friction.

The second of these points is probably the most important. Taking my writing seriously gave me permission to make it a priority to write. I can’t tell you how many people I know who say they want to write a book or are working on a book and yet they never sit down to write. The first job of a writer is to write – not to talk about it. Not even to blog about it. But to write. Bum in chair folks, and no matter what else is going on in my life, I always find time to be there.

You have to decide the writing/travel/whatever is a priority because it will hurt you more not to do the activity, than to do it.

I’ve also had people tell me that part of their trouble is the challenge of moving from creative to mundane (e.g. work) projects and back again. This is an issue of multitasking. So how do people manage this shift from project to project?

I know people who work on two or three novel projects at the same time. I admire them greatly, but I don’t think I can do it. These folk can literally be writing one manuscript in the morning and another at night. For some it’s a matter of compartmentalizing their writing, so writing a certain type of book is associated with a certain time of day. I suppose I do something similar when I get up early in the morning and write creatively, and then turn to my work computer at eight a.m.

Having separate computers can help, as well. Having one computer for work and one that is strictly for creative endeavors allows your brain to associate a certain place with a certain type of thinking. Keeping your creative space separate from the internet has also helped some writers, and definitely removing all games from the creative computer. For me, I have to keep my photography on a separate computer because that is a time sink I frequently get stuck in, because it also feeds my creativity.

Other issues fledgling writers run into include knowing what to write and just getting started. I’ve talked previously about inspiration, but sometimes it’s just the fear of getting started. There are wonderful books out there that can help. I fondly recall Natalie Goldberg’s Wildmind, and the wonderful book The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. Both helped me explore my voice and passions and taught me that my voice was valid. Books can teach you how to deal with the anxiety of starting through cleansing breaths, or meditation . Each writer has to find their own way to deal with the critics in their heads.

I’m reminded of a mantra Kris Rusch and Dean Smith put up at every workshop: DARE TO BE BAD. What this means is that all creativity (and travel, and just plain living, for that matter) is about taking a risk. We have to throw ourselves out there and only by taking those chances will something wonderful arise.

I’m reminded of one of my adventures: In China my travel companion and I decided to visit a remote area called Qinghai Lake. This is a wind-blown steppe in the mountains that has a huge lake that supports the massive migrations of waterfowl from Siberia to South Asia. So we hopped a local bus and travelled up into the mountains and were dumped off in a small group of buildings that were reminiscent of an old west town except there were no horses around, only yaks and monks.

Monks at Qinghai Lake (1998) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

So we ventured out to the lake on foot (not an easy hike, because the lake was distant and the wind was high and scoured us constantly with dust). We were met by Tibetan women bringing their children to see Westerners. (I scared the children because I have blue eyes and apparently that’s not a good thing.) We saw massive stone cairns, strings of prayer flags, and wonderful kids who showed off by riding yaks to guard their herds and, in the distance, blue Qinghai Lake. I ended up going back to our room alone and was just washing the dust out of my pores when someone pounded on the door.

Soldiers.

They barged in on me as I stood there dripping. I was shocked, to say the least, and my first reaction was to shoo them right out of the room again and bar the door. It worked. I stood there, heart pounding. Through the door I heard them whispering and laughing. And they went away.

Which proved to me, that if I could deal with the Chinese Army, I could deal with most anything – including anything that dares get in the way of my writing.

Kitty Sitters – or choose your writing friends and governments wisely

By Karen Abrahamson | March 5, 2011

This post arises from the fact that I’m leaving soon for a month in Peru, and also from recent news casts about what’s happening in Libya. With regards to the former, my biggest worry in preparing for this trip has been how to ensure my two cats are cared for during my absence. In the past when I’ve travelled for a long trip my parents have helped me out by moving in for the month or so to care for my ‘kids’ or else I’ve had a wonderful spouse to take on the chore. But this time my parents are getting to an age where travelling for cats is a too much for them, and the spouse – well, that’s no longer an issue.

So I have to find an alternative.

On the boat upriver to Seim Reap, Cambodia (2008)

For short trips I have wonderful neighbors who come in and feed the boys and give them cuddles, but three to five days is about maximum I can leave because these cats are so darn needy of human affection. Given their high activity level, I couldn’t very well take them to a kitty resort (read kennel) because I’m sure they’d go stir crazy. I know I would, confined to a small ‘cell’. Even places that have a cat run, don’t have the space these guys need. I mean, these are cats that would explode if they were cooped up that long. Messy, I think. All that cat fur and innards splattered everywhere. They normally run circles around the house just for fun.

Luckily I’ve been fortunate to locate a lovely local grandmother who has agreed to come live with the boys for the month. She’d like to have a cat and she’d like to live in this area (her grandkids are here), so it’s the perfect arrangement. She’s come by a number of times now, just to get to know the boys and so we could check each other out. She’s even brought her grandkids with her (I fed them sugar and sent them home with her – guess I owe her an apology on that one).

Anyway, all of that effort to make sure my cats were cared for made me think of how we need to pay the same kind of attention to choosing our writing companions. I’m talking about the people we share our new writing with, whether in critique groups or one-on-one manuscript exchanges. I’ve heard a number of my writing friends (people I really admire) talk about hellish writing groups they are, or have been, involved with. Many of them tell horror stories of groups spending agonizing hours checking grammar and spelling, or fighting, instead of getting to the heart of the writing, or of writers who seem to be determined not to advance their craft, because they will not hear the advice of those farther down the road than they are. Others are caught in the myths of the publishing industry and choose not to educate themselves in what is happening to publishing at the moment and how that impacts us as writers.

Luckily, my first real writing group found me at the Surrey International Writers Conference. I ran into a work acquaintance and he introduced me to his all-male writers group, which was looking for a woman’s perspective. Good thing I got their humor, but they were serious about their writing and those friendships are some I still treasure to this day. I’ve been fortunate to be able to attend Clarion and made more friends that I still count on, and from there I found my way to Kris Rusch and Dean Smith and the outstanding cadre of writer’s they’ve created. I hope to have these friendships for the rest of my life.

What is it about these groups and individuals that are different than those other groups people have described? They are serious. They are committed. They are open minded. When they look at a manuscript they are looking at whether the manuscript works, not whether I crossed a T or put the comma in the right place. Most of all they are supportive and can not only tell me when a manuscript doesn’t work, but why it doesn’t and what might fix it. They do it in a manner that leaves me energized and ready to go back and face the rewrites. They fuel my writing and any time I can meet with this far-flung group is a VERY good day. Best of all, I think the feeling is reciprocated. We care for each other and we will help each other through the rough spots.

Early morning in the remote Tibetan village of Lamusa. (1998) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson — Early morning in the remote Tibetan village of Lamusa. It's a long way home from here. (1998) Photo (c) Karen Abrahamson

Which brings me to Libya and my trip. You see, with all the trouble in Libya – things that could not be foreseen – I find myself appalled at how the Canadian government has acted on behalf of Canadians stranded in that country. You see the Canadian government didn’t act quickly to get Canadian nationals out of the country when things blew up. Instead they’ve made excuses that they couldn’t get insurance to take a plane in to Tripoli Airport. PARDON ME? You couldn’t get INSURANCE? You left Canadian citizens to beg their way on to other countries’ rescue planes.

I’m sorry to be political, but I’m not going to stay cosseted in a country where the current Prime Minister is trying to make bureaucrats officially describe our government as the “Harper government”, instead of Government of Canada. As a traveler I try not to put myself in harm’s way, but who could predict what was going to happen in North Africa? I always thought (hoped) the Canadian government would be there for me if things went bad. Seems I was mistaken. But then this is the Harper Government.

Shame on you Prime Minister. Seems I take better care of my cats than you do of your citizens.