In a chance conversation, I referred to General Haig as “The Butcher of the Somme” and mentioned his supposed disdain for machine guns. [Haig was the Commander in Chief of the British forces in France during the WWI Battle of the Somme in July 1916.]
I decided I’d do a little research to justify my words (or not). I ended up going down an uglier rabbit hole than I’d intended. Occupational hazard for authors.
You might think this is a post about one of my books. Yes and no. It’s also about an argument with Mrs. S. concerning tombstone inscriptions; who Canada’s best authors are; and whether that should include Canadian poets and songwriters.
Let’s start with my book, Naarlen. It’s my fifth novel and the black sheep of them all. Most readers hate the book. It’s only redeeming feature is that a small number of determined readers love it. Fanatically. I would say “cult” but I think you need more than nine for a cult.
I ran a series of social media posts about Grisou the Cat. In each post I inserted him into some well known work of art – usually a painting – to show the artist how it should be done right. Then I challenged viewers for the best caption, to win international bragging rights. While there were great captions, the judges ignored MY captions. Quelle frustration! So by popular demand from the adoring millions (rounded up to the nearest millions) this post is dedicated to MY captions. At last! Take that, stupid judges!
God: More bloodied angel wing feathers in the garden? This has to stop.
A few weeks back Pascale and her friend, Alison, decided they would each buy a kayak. They drove up to Nobel, Ontario to try out different models, thanks to the good folk at White Squall Paddling Centre. Husbands Gary and self tagged along to provide company and to look decorative while the women tried out kayaks.
After on-the water tests, Alison chose a green beauty – a Delta 12 – and Pascale chose a shiny red Delta 12.10.
I didn’t want to store the kayak in the garden over winter because: