Words Alive Festival 2009

I read a short story of mine entitled Cry Much?, as well as two passages from Disassociation.







After my reading the MC of the Open Mic stage, a writer named Malcolm, gave me some very high accolades and the audience gave me a loud ovation. A photographer from Snap Newspaper took me aside and asked me for some information regarding Disassociation, and then proceeded to take two photos of me holding it. I hope they use the photos and info. So it was all worth it in the end.
But when I left the Festival alone, just like when I came in alone, I thought more about how I wanted a girlfriend to share the whole thing with.



I'm in the far middle. There was a larger audience behind the shots as well, about twenty-five people. Modest, but enough to make me nervous.



The shots of my reading were taken by a music teacher also named Adam. I don't know if he'll see this, but if he does*, thanks and I appreciate it.
*originally written as 'is', just now corrected. Better late than never.



Poet David Glick reading from his book of poems inside a restored old house.



Some performers around my age. The woman in blue was giving spoken word to music.



The left side of the Festival.




This woman also performed some simple, clean poetry on the Open Mic.



York Professor Priscilla Uppal reading from her latest novel.



The entrance to the Festival.


I'm also going to be at the Draft Reading Series here in Toronto in early October, so hopefully I'll be able to have some shots from that as well.

I was also at the Word on the Street Festival, and will post the photos soon. I don't know why I thought the International Writer's Festival was this week.

"Cry much?"

What if our bodies could never heal themselves?

What if commercialization/commodification were viewed in the same regard as molestation and rape?

What if people could at least respond with their real feelings and thoughts? What if the women I've tried to talk to did so?

What if people never played the game of 'Don't contact them, wait for them to contact you'?

What if I disregarded my social values based on how they can easily lead to ugliness, weakness and depression?

What if I never reach my goals of being able to reach and sustain a career that allows for me to provide for myself, my future wife, our future children, and my parents?

What if people remembered what it actually was, as much as what it should've been for them?

What if I broke free of the shell that the Past has tried to slowly construct for me?

What if I received a comment on this website that was actually positive?

Imagine existing only to, at the end of the day, be so grateful and thankful of the slightest response from people whom you've contacted repeatedly and whom you don't owe anything or haven't disgraced (if you even receive a response at all). People whom you've changed your life for, have stressed out over and generally have placed way more thought and importance in...and you know they haven't placed a fraction of the thought and measure in your life as you have theirs. Is it better than nothing? Does the world need people like you in order to revolve?

Words Alive Literary Festival/ 'A Novel' / What Women Want

I'll be heading to the above, the Words Alive Literary Festival, in a week from now on the 20th. I don't have a table nor am I one of the featured authors but I do intend to attend the open mic and read from Disassociation, as well as a short story I submitted to Rampike which I'm not sure has been accepted.

So it'll be 3 1/2 hours taking four different buses from Toronto to Sharon, ON (where it's being held), and 3 1/2 hours back...all for five minutes (I'm guessing) on a microphone, and I don't even know if there's going to be that large of an audience. And I have to pay 5$ to get in. And I'm pretty sure that people will immediately discredit my work - or label it as a fluke - based on the stigma surrounding the 'young author'. But on the other hand, maybe people will take genuine interest. But I should never really count on what I think I deserve, right?



I've never read this novel. I'm guessing it falls under the unnerving portmanteau 'chicklit' which I don't really read. Not to say that the book isn't good though, it may very well be.

I'd like to discuss something that's been in the recesses of my mind for awhile, and it's the subtitle 'A Novel' that's included on the front of book covers. When I was first selling Disassociation through consignment deals in Ottawa, the representative at Chapters told me that it might be a good idea to include 'A Novel' on the cover in order to tell people exactly what the book is.

I didn't end up doing it. I like the cover as it is. At the time when it was first mentioned to me, I felt embarrassed - as though I'd committed a gaffe so obvious and I was getting off on the wrong foot from the very start. But as time passed I noticed more and more novels without the use of 'A Novel'. Watership Down, for example, has nothing more than the author's name, the title, and a nice image of a rabbit behind a blue, cloudy sky. It works just as well - I'd even go so far as to say it adds a bit of intrigue and mystique to books.








They'll never chase other women, they'll always make as much time for you as they can, they'll value your interests and your intellect, they'll treat you respectfully and equally.
It's all a joke.