My Next Book is Out!

The next Detective Inspector Manookian mystery is out! Tiny Little Murder is the sequel to Monk With the Steel-Toed Boots and is now available as a paperback or an ebook.

When the founder of a Tiny House intentional community is murdered, DI Manookian is on the case. Who wanted the kindly, elderly man to die? As if interviewing seventy potential suspects isn't enough, Manookian must deal with an exasperating partner in training, family troubles, the increasingly intriguing owner of the In Your Face Bakery, her disconcertingly clever ten-year-old daughter, and his own conviction that it's time for a career change. But how to make the leap to a life entirely different from the one he planned?

Order your copy today! Many thanks!

(Cover photo thanks to Erin Pocock)

 Shop the Independent Bookstore | Lulu

Get Lost

I was the weird child who actually loved school most of the time. I loved the smell of new markers, chalk, fresh clean notebooks waiting to be written in. Binders with dividers made my heart happy. The best day was when we got to go to the library and sit on the carpet while Mrs. Condie read to us. Or those glorious and rare occasions when we got to lie on mats in the lunchroom and eat licorice while having a read-a-thon.

I loved delving into both new subjects and familiar ones. I'd spend summers memorizing Shakespeare or practising Italian conjugations just for fun. My favourite spot was sitting cross-legged on my bedroom floor with a book or my typewriter. I remember the day I got the shiny, satisfyingly-pink card that admitted me to the grown-up section of the public library. I lived for the arrival of the summer Bookmobile, where I could check out Hardy Boys mysteries (I still remember the smell in the back of that van). I thought driving a Bookmbile would be the best job ever (I still do). 

In high school, I lost patience with the pace of things and started taking university courses on the side, eventually leaving after 11th Grade to attend uni fulltime. I remember looking through the catalogue of possible courses, marvelling at the range of offerings and thinking how lucky I was to get to choose whatever I wanted to study. I took classes in seven languages my first semester. I found physics fascinating. I walked through the art gallery and attended plays and took the guided tour of trees on campus. I fondled textbooks in the bookstore between classes. I sat in on courses I wasn't even enrolled in, just for the joy of soaking up information.

After two aborted attempts to complete a Masters Degree while working fulltime and raising three kids, I dropped out of formal school and just audited the occasional course. I took summer Parks & Rec courses with my kids. I've signed up for a Welsh Ladies' Chorus. I continue to read constantly, both fiction and non-fiction, and I prowl the neighbourhood Little Free Libraries daily to see what's on offer.

And I spend entirely too much time on YouTube, learning everything from Irish crochet to how to build my own solar collector from pop cans. But there's a bit of a dark side to YouTube. Aside from the trolls and nasty comments you often encounter there, the lure and attraction of YouTube itself can be detrimental. I get sucked into the rabbit hole of the day (How to use a portable power station to run your freezer, How to properly plant grape vines, American Sign Language instruction) and forget to clean house, cook, do laundry, write, garden, or any number of other things I intended to do that day. For someone who loves learning, YouTube can be a boon or a complete timekiller. I start off watching a gardening video and somehow end up watching opera-singing parrots or political podcasts or Breton country dances, and then look up to see my whole morning has gone and I've accomplished nothing.

At some point, one must set down the screen and go out into the world and DO the things learned. It doesn't feed me when I watch others eat lovely food online. I might know everything in the universe about growing perfect tomatoes, but if I don't actually put a shovel into the ground, none of that knowledge does a thing for me. Watching someone in the Philippines patch his roof won't stop the leak in mine.

On the other hand, I don't believe knowledge is ever wasted. All of it expands your mind and makes the world---and your brain---a more interesting place to be. But with so much to choose from, so much on offer, it's important to be selective. Time is limited, the brain-cell capacity is also limited, and not all knowledge is equally valuable to my personal situation. 

I'm still trying to find the balance between passion and practicality. Diving into education vs Doing what needs to be done. But learning gives joy, and that's no small thing these days. There's so much to discover and absorb! So go get lost down that rabbit hole now and then. But if you get lost for too long, be prepared to find the world may have moved on when you resurface.

The Hazy Lazy Days of Summer

My "get up and go" appears to have gotten up and left. I have a ton of things to do -- projects in the yard, weeding, painting, building, organizing -- but it's 37 celsius out, and suddenly it seems most pressing to lie on the couch or lounge by the pool and read novels. Two of the grandkids are here for the summer, and all I want to do is play board games and kick the soccer ball around and take walks to Baskin Robbins. I have zero interest in cooking or cleaning. I'm buying store-bought cookies instead of baking them as per usual. I've even gone to Nations to eat at their salad bar rather than assembling a salad myself. Anyone who knows me knows that's really weird. 

Maybe when the temperature cools and autumn draws closer, my pep will return. For now, I'm not going to push myself. There are some things more important than productivity.

A New Season -- Reevaluating My Purpose

I believe that our life purpose or the role we play changes according to the season of life we're in. When I was younger, my purpose was to learn and develop my talents and get an education. Then I entered a season where my main role was to raise my children and establish my family. I've had periods of my life that were all about prepping for the future, or focusing on my writing, or whatever.

But now I'm in the prime of my life (59 is a prime number, you see), and my life path is changing. I lost my job two years ago. Lately I've been pondering what I've accomplished in that two years and wondering where the time has gone. What do I have to show for it? I mean, I've accomplished a lot and I've been very busy. But have I grown or changed or developed in that time? And now, as my children are leaving the nest and my grandchildren are getting older, what do I want to do with this next phase of my life? How do I want to progress? What remains to be done that I wanted to do? How can I be of most use? What is my life asking of me right now? What would make me a better person?

I'm not sure of all the answers to those questions yet, but I keep coming back in my mind to the phrase: "A soft place to land." I think a lot of people need comfort and safety. Can I provide that in some way, whether through my gardening or my writing? In what ways can I be there to love and comfort my children and grandchildren? What service can I render? Do I have a larger role than just "being there" for them? All good stuff to think about.

There are times I get caught up in the politics going on in the world, and then times I think "The world's going to go up in flames anyway, regardless of what humans do" or "Why prepare for long-term retirement? The earth won't be habitable by the time I'm 70." But then I push all that noise aside and just think, "A soft place to land." Whatever the future holds, I know it's going to difficult. There may be war, or famine, or climate catastrophe... Whatever comes, there will always be a need for compassion and solace. How can I best equip myself to provide that, so I can ease the experience for my family and others?

People don't often leave comments on this blog, but I'd really appreciate some comments on this post.  What do you think lies ahead, and how are you preparing for it? Do you see your purpose changing as you grow older? In what role do you want to serve?