Scrivner

I see your name tumbling off bus stop benches,
swirled in graffiti on the school brick wall
and on the outside of coffee cups in the street’s litter.
Not really,
not really when I read them again.
More careful this time.

…has been one of the top searches to my blog lately.  Frankly, if you want to know about it, just ask me.  Use britty@brittybooks.com or call my house.  I’ll tell you what you need to know.

Don’t be all sneaky-like.  It doesn’t suit you.

…arrived today!  1000 of them to distribute and encourage (or harass) people into reading my stuff.  Here’s the front:

The back of the card didn’t scan up very well because it’s a washout of the front design with some more encouragement (harassment) to have people contact me for an interview.

And since we’re on the subject of harassment, let me encourage y’all out there in ether-land to read me at www.examiner.com/calgary .  I’m located under the Sports and Recreation tab in Geocaching.  I’m the recreation, as always.

See you there! (..and don’t forget to subscribe or I’ll have to harass you some more….)

The New Yorker has issued its Top 20 Under 40 article that names ZZ Packer as one of those 20.  Besides the guy that wrote that weird novel that turned in a weirder movie about some Ukrainians that didn’t act like any Ukrainians I’m related to – I didn’t know anyone.

I do know, however, that ZZ Packer and I (Zed Zed as I call her being a Canadian) shared a list once, too.  I’d love to prove it to you but sadly the InterWeb is a temporary thing.  Making the Top Short Fiction Writers longlist in 2007 with ZZ  doesn’t count a whole lot when you’re begging for a Starbucks and she’s in the New Yorker.

But, hey, we ride on anyway.

Congrats to you, Zed Zed.  I always knew you’d make it big.

Another fun quiz from Ryan B, Canadian Man of Mystery, to be found at Quiz Galaxy…

Jai Britton –
[adjective]:

Fuzzy to the touch

That pretty much says it all.

Interesting summer reality tv show with a twist…the contestants actually seem to have some visible talent!  Ho!

Here’s the premise:  18 (now 15) aspiring filmmakers are given a set of guidelines and then go make a film.  We, the audience, get to see the films and then get to vote from home.  You can vote online.  Yes, even Canadians!!!

These people are very talented, especially Zach Lipovsky, a special effects editor from Vancouver.  Go Canucks!  He may have some tough competition, though, because of the nature of the voting process.  It seems like the you-tubers are out in full force and going against the judges opinions. 

Controversy last week:  comedy short “Getta Rhoom”, was it a nerd or the director picking on the mentally-challenged?  Whatever it was, it came in top 3.  How’s them apples?

Controversy this week (as I see it):  does good cultural filmmaking span all borders, or do we say ‘that was great’ simply because we don’t understand?

Where have all the aliens gone? he wondered absentmindedly as he passed a rather dusty VHS copy of Close Encounters of the Third Kind of the movie rental shelf.  Could it be they’ve disappeared, or relocated?   Or maybe they just don’t find Earth that interesting anymore?  Maybe Men in Black dispelled all the rumours about mean aliens and now they can live peacefully knowing that we think they are kind and humourous.  

He picked up a copy of Blade Runner and put it down again.  Too realistic, he thought.  Plus, I think I’ve seen him in some other show before.

Dr. Faustus

which room do you occupy now

with your hangdog look

of sullied surprise?

You have dropped all seven sins

and their minor deities

at my door.  They muddy the floor

and play with the umbrellas as swords.

I set the matches to the lot of them,

but Gluttony, sweet Gluttony,

that milk-skinned, corn-fed

girl was all eyes

and told nightmarish

stories of their own demise.

They wander aisles of every garden centre come May, come early June, and some stragglers into July.  They sleepwalk and drift, caress and meander.  There is no music here, no soundtrack to their individual lives because here they share the greens as one.  Here is where there is nowhere left to be. 

They covet the perennials and their lasting nature, while hustling each marigold into their cart.  Eyes linger on the oaks jailed in plastic containers, and though they long for freedom for their brothers, they have to think about colour, and how well it displays on the front lawn.

Hell’s Kitchen is back!  Whhee-oo!  I don’t know why I love this guy so much, he’s so ugly in this strangely, attractive way.  There is a great article about him in the May 2007 New Yorker, and trust me, he never pulls any punches.  Gaa, he’s just fun!  He’s passionate about what he does and he gets away with being a dink because he’s good at it.  I can understand that.  And that’s entertainment!

As a side note – these candidates for this year’s show are pathetic.  A waffle house cook?  A retirement home chef who cries all the time?  A nanny/personal chef?  What in Hades does that mean?  Might as well bring in the waitresses to simmer the risotto.  What is it with Ramsey and his risotto anyway?  It’s mushy rice, ugg!