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The name our boat came with: Man Cave

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Our renamed boat: Freedom Four-Two

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As you can imagine, getting a 40+ year old sailboat means some things need fixing up.  One of the first things we did was change the name from Man Cave to Freedom Four-Two.  (We're hoping to eventually get an image of the cool little green dude from Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy as a decal for the side of the boat -- although painted on the mainsail would be awesome too -- to compliment the name, adding a three-fold meaning to our vessel.)

 But the main thing we tackled was the windows.

The previous owner had taken a large sheet of plexiglass and slapped it across the three windows per side, holding it all in place with strips of metal screwed into the cabin top.  As in, screwed all the way through and then sort of sealed up.  As Mike says, plexiglass and fiberglass have different expansion rates.  So when the weather fluctuates, as it is prone to do in Ontario, these two components do not remain friends.  The plexiglass had a few cracks in it, which made the windows leak.  Plus, a big continuous slab of plexiglass running the length of the cabin is not the prettiest way to shore up the portholes.

We got rid of all that, had six individual pieces of plexiglass cut to more suitable dimensions (although Mike fretted about whether we had accounted for enough space when we went with fancy rounded edges -- which we had, though barely), and learned about better methods of installing boat windows.

After much research, Mike decided on a two-fold system.  We started with super industrial-strength double-sided tape from 3M that would hold the plexiglass to the fiberglass, creating a gap for expansion.  Then we used heavy-duty caulking to fill in the gaps and give a water-tight seal.  One great description of this stuff came from someone online making an aquarium, and he likened it to 'God's aquarium', stating (with awe if not complete accuracy) that it could hold lava (but who knows; maybe it really could).  Contractors use this kind of stuff on skyscrapers, so we felt pretty confident that it would do the job of keeping the water out and the windows on.  There's nothing going to take these suckers off, so it had better work.  So far so good.  And sealing up all those screw holes definitely helped too.

We discovered a leak somewhere else during a huge rainstorm last weekend that we have to address, but the windows have definitely held their own.

Our boat is now totally sea-worthy.
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The full-sheet plexiglass the previous owner had drilled into the side of the cabin.

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You can see the cracks each piece of plexiglass suffered from inconsistent expansion.

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Here we are ripping the old plexi off.

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This is the gunk left over from the previous attempt to seal the windows to the fiberglass. Mike got rid of it mostly through the use of a sander.

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This is the super-duper 2-sided tape that will hold the new plexiglass to the cabin. You want to make sure it's placed correctly the first time as it's super sticky.

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First window lined up and pressed on. Now to remove the protective outer sheath.

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And voila! The new windows attached, the sealer/adhesive applied, and leak-proof windows installed. Now to seal up all those screw holes before it rains ...

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Back in March, Mike and I bought a boat older than either of us.  A 1972 Grampian 26 sailboat, to be precise.   These Canadian-made boats are very popular and seem to stand the test of time.

Mike has always enjoyed the water, and things that go in the water.  He grew up near the shores of Lake Ontario and his family had a summer cottage they spent a month each summer visiting.  Here, he learned to windsurf, canoe, and trundle around the lake in dinghies. a little motor boat, and small sailboats.  Last winter, he even took a 3-day sailing course in Florida, so he's pretty competent -- and definitely content -- on the water.  Though the purchase of a boat may have startled some people, it would not have totally surprised them, given Mike's penchant for things that float.

And then there's me.  I get motion sickness.  Boats and I have not always had a happy relationship ...

There was that time when I went fishing with my dad and grandpa on Lake Ontario when I was a teen, where we managed to make it out to a nice fishing spot, I waited perhaps 10 minutes, then promptly threw up over the side of the boat.  I spent the next 6 or 7 hours greeting the Lake with what little my stomach had to donate, trying to sleep as I lay draped over the side, and wondering what all the excitement was about.  My grandpa, an avid fisherman, later called me a trooper for sticking it out.  And to top it off, the ride home grew ever more horrible as we outraced a storm.  The upside -- the lure I had picked caught some nice fish, even if I didn't actually reel them in.

A ferry ride from Ireland to Wales in 1991 did not affect me too much, perhaps because of the size of the boat.  I even managed to read some, a feat I cannot accomplish in a moving car.  And yet, on the return ride from Wales to Ireland, I had to stand out on deck clutching the rail and gulping in the open air for a while before my stomach would settle.

Another time, when Mike and I visited his family's cottage, we went for a canoe ride -- probably my first.  Things started off fine, but by the time we reached the other side of the lake (and Wolf Lake is not that wide), I found myself swallowing convulsively, wondering how the hell I would make it back to the cottage without ruining Mike's day.  (On a subsequent canoe ride with his mom, everything went just fine, leaving me scratching my head as to why the motion sickness only showed its ugly head inconsistently.)

I could go on to describe a canoe/camping trip Mike and I took in Algonquin park that had less-than-stellar moments in calm, humid air, and contrast it with fun times canoe/camping the previous year.  Or point out the week we went house-boating when I had little difficulties, but I think I've made the point that boats and I don't always get along, and I haven't figured out the catalysts yet.  Assuming it's anything more than my imagination.

So when I told my parents that Mike and I had just bought a sailboat, they were understandably shocked, surprised, and amazed.  Dad remembers that fishing trip quite well, and Mike knows all about my difficulties.  We'd just have to see how this new experience all played out.


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I was asked recently if I have any new books in the works, and where I get story ideas from.  This is a frequent question every author receives.

I do have several ideas on the go: some sit at basic starting points, some a few thousand words in (including the first of 2 prequels to Druid's Daughter), and a couple between   25 000 and 35 000 words along (the latter being a sequel to Spirit of the Stone).  I am, however, a great procrastinator, so it usually takes me quite some time to finish a story.

As to where I get my ideas, there's no single source (except my brain) or method I employ.  Some stories have started with a scene that popped into my head.  Druid's Daughter had its beginnings in a scene with Karen and Jans being confronted by a monster that they had to figure out how to defeat.  That scene never made it into the book -- not even remotely -- but the characters were born from that initial idea.  My husband helped with suggesting the consequences of Manfred's return, and the end of the story I figured out on a walk through a park.  Amrah's subplot did not even exist in the first version.  I added it later after a friend suggested that what I had was not long enough for a fantasy novel.  That subplot fit in so well with other seeds already in the book that it seemed my subconscious knew what it was about long before my brain caught up.

That happens a lot in my writing, where I go back to add or tweak something and discover that I had already laid the foundation for the insertion at some point.

Spirit of the Stone began as two words: "blue eyes", an image I had while on a train going across Canada on vacation after University.  That was it.  Stone had further success on a later vacation (this time in Cuba) when I figured out what the Markers would say and what they meant, and yet another big plot point came to me on vacation in Sedona, where I wrote Jolyn's motivation to infiltrate Broman's camp, and why Binor would help.  So while it might seem Stone benefited a great deal from my down time, it did take about 10 years to finish.  Did I mention that I'm not always a fast writer?

A bunch of ideas come to me as scenes or parts of scenes that I write down and try to figure out if there's a larger story somewhere in there.  A couple evolved (are still evolving) from projects I did in school.  A few even came as dreams (such as the one sitting at about 25 000, which is my current project).  But I'm not one of those authors who can sit down and plot out a whole story.  I've tried.  I can sometimes get a very general "and then they would do this and somehow end up here" (this seldom works in the end for me as plots tend to diverge from my best intentions), but for the most part, when I start, I begin with little to go on and see where it takes me.  Often, the characters write parts of their own story (don't laugh, it's true, and sometimes a little creepy).  I have one Sci-fi on the go where the male protagonist really wants to get together with the female lead, but she doesn't think it's a great idea yet (if at all), and it makes it tricky to get on with the story.  I haven't done much with it for a couple of years while they sort themselves out.

Anyway, my ideas come when they come, and I do my best to give them a home, even if it takes a while to fully flesh them out.
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After doing all the edits, performing the proofs, having others go through your work to make sure you haven't missed anything obvious, then going through the whole process of publication, it's a fantastic feeling to finally have the finished book in your hand. I am a firm believer in having a physical book, though I do appreciate the convenience of digital copies. But there's nothing quite like seeing your name on something you've worked so hard at, and actually holding the finished results in your hand. It's one thing to see your work as available on a website (exciting definitely), but for me, something else again to be able to point to it on my bookshelf, to pick it up and flip through the pages, to feel the weight in my hands.


I just hope others will feel a similar enjoyment when they read my work. It's all about sharing, inviting others into the worlds I've created, introducing them to the characters and societies of those worlds. If you can lose yourself in my stories, even for just a moment, then I've done my job well.

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I have never written a blog before.  Indeed, I rarely read them and, being a backwards sort of person when it comes to technology and all the 'modern' techniques to let the world know all about me, I didn't really think I'd ever write one.  However, here I am.  So why start now?  I'm told this is the best way for someone to market themselves, and that, if I want to be a successful author, I must blog to all and sundry to let them know my thoughts.
I will state right now that I have little confidence in my own ability to promote myself, so bear with me and my quaint, old-fashioned ways.  I don't even own a cell phone, an iPod, iPad or any other handheld device, nor do I have, or wish to have, a twitter account.  I do, however, have a facebook page, so I am not totally ignorant of the ways of the modern world.  Just mostly :) 
I also do not feel a lack for not having all these modern conveniences in my life.  I rather enjoy not having everyone know what I do 24/7, and I find the ability to actually be out of reach for non-emergencies very refreshing.  In the event that someone truly needs to talk to me, I have a landline with an answering machine, and it's worked just fine for the last 20 years since I moved out of my parent's home.  (In a true emergency, my husband has a cell phone, and he usually knows where I am, so he keeps me in touch too.)
Well, if the purpose of a blog is to state what's on my mind, then I will consider this first attempt as a success.  If, however, I've missed the point entirely ... well, that wouldn't surprise me either.


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I love reading, writing, playing the flute, and doing the occasional bit of gardening, as well as exploring the world.