Poppies, Papaver rhoeas, in field between Kelling and Weybourne, North Norfolk, England. Photo taken in June 2002, by John Beniston
I’ll never forget the valour of the soldiers, the endless emotional burden for the veterans, the vivacious young men that never made it home, the anguish and despair and brotherhood the likes of which I will never realize, and the incredible price of freedom.
The time on the wall is important to a freelance writer
When you are in the business of freelancing, your time is especially valuable because no one is paying you for: 1) not working, 2) your benefits, 3) your vacation time, 4) your sick time, and 5) the extra time you may spend trying to make them look good. Continue reading
On a fall walk in Parry Sound, Ontario
There may be things about me that potential clients and other visitors to my site would like to know. So I’m updating my “About Me” page to best reflect who I am and what I do.
My brand of storytelling
Storytelling has become a key to commercial success. That’s pretty cool because I’m a natural born storyteller who is also a trained and experienced writer and online journalist, with the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation and Citytv, both in Toronto. Now I’m an independent service provider who would like to help businesses clean up their word weed patch and make a lasting impression. Continue reading
Today’s horror in Ottawa reminds me of my newswriting days.
For me, it’s difficult during awful times like this not to reflect back on those newswriting days (2001-2005) where I would often walk into the newsroom at Citytv in Toronto amid the chaos of a breaking news story. Today that newsroom, and all other newsrooms across the country, are clamouring to cover the atrocity.
I remember the feeling of being brought instantly to full alert upon learning the initial details of a breaking news story. At first the facts are few and tersely worded: (for example) Gunshots in (name of city and neighbourhood); two officers reportedly hit.
When big news breaks, events in the ensuing half day unfold very quickly, although never quickly enough if you’re at the news desk and in charge of updating a large audience, whether it’s via TV, radio or the web. Continue reading
Great work quote from Brainy Quote
Thomas Alva Edison was a genius whose wisdom knew no bounds. Click here to see his other quotes.
A fall view at Lake Manitouwabing
Typical Mycoplasma colony, as shown on nature.com
June 21st, 1999
For most of this decade, I suffered horribly from the profoundly devastating effects of Chronic Fatigue (Immune Dysfunction) Syndrome {CFS}. Chronic Fatigue Syndrome is a disease that, by the accounts of many sufferers I’ve known, pummels you into utter exhaustion, and keeps beating you from there. CFS gave me six plus years of hell and hopelessness that pains me to put into words. My earliest knowledge of CFS involved a symptomatically diverse flu-like illness that is the direct result of a severely dysfunctioning immune system. Personally, I had low and unpredictable energy, heavy legs, a sore throat, muscle aches, anxiety, depression, and severe sleep difficulties. I was “sick all over”; essentially, a vital young man shot down in his physical prime.
Apparently, I had an alien illness. The many doctors, all with outmoded information, had no answers or insight. So I had no hope. Neither did millions of others like me, who sucked daily on a fragment of their lives. Repeatedly I heard the cautions, that I may have to live “as is”; as damaged goods, in other words. But not me; not this fighter. I kept my eyes and ears open and continued doing research. I wasn’t looking for the best coping method. I demanded a cure. Continue reading
Yup, that’s me
Mornings, to me, are like a bleach stain on a favourite shirt: something that should never be there. I should never be involved with mornings in any way. Specifically, anything active that happens before 8 am – 9 am preferably and 10 am ideally, though unrealistically – is not meant to be for me.
Which isn’t to say that I can’t “do” mornings. I did, for years. I was quite adept at pulling myself out of bed at 6 am and sometimes even sooner, dragging myself into the shower, dressing and grooming myself adequately, finding something to eat on the go, picking up my pre-packed belongings, reaching down to clumsily tie my shoelaces while cursing the night-borne tightness in my back, throwing on a jacket if the weather required it, and stumbling out the door.
In the years that I commuted to Toronto, I managed to put one foot in front of the other well enough to get to my local bus stop, where I waited for the bus that took me to the nearest GO Train station, where I boarded the train and set my still-weary body down to rest. Yes, I still desired more rest.
great image from thewritelife.com
I’m a big fan of social media, but only when I can use it as a practical tool. (Admittedly, Facebook is an exception.)
When I first began using Pinterest months ago, I didn’t realize it could ever be a practical tool. That’s the thing about social media, I find. You have to take a bit of time to understand the various platforms and what they can do for you. It helps if they’re also fun to use.
Pinterest has become both practical and fun, because I have started to use it as a place to gather all my writing resources. These resources are in the form of hundreds of websites, and articles on these websites. So far I’ve only just begun to assemble them on Pinterest.
You are undoubtedly better than your immediate predecessor, and your level of sophistication blows my old Windows XP operating system right out of deep sea waters. But you perplex me with your endless array of Apps and your promises that my life can’t help but be enhanced with their use.
Your interface stymies me and I am no novice PC user. I know I will figure you out in a matter of weeks and we may then become good friends despite all the consternation you’ve caused me.
But for now I treat you as my Maltese poodle treats chipmunks. I will sneak up on you and try to overcome you before you have a chance to outsmart me. My Sydney hasn’t yet outrun one of those speediest of rodents. You might want to hope for a similar fortune.