I'm Going to Need a Drink After This ...

My Darlings ... for the next three weeks, I will be posting nice little spells for you to use to improve your life all in honour of the US release on March 27, 2012 (and Canadian paperback, April 10) of my beautiful new novel THE THIRTEEN. Enjoy, and of course, it's all in the name of Entertainment ... or is it? The Use of Everyday Materials In Common Spells From the Big Book of Spells Ladies of Haven Wood Today’s spell is From the section entitled Ambition and Material Success Oh the men in our lives. Handsome, kind, successful, pliable. They can be the perfect addition to your perfectly appointed home, your perfectly manicured yard, your perfectly toned, creamed, scented, sculpted body. Because we look good for our age. Also any age. Isn’t that right girls? When your man first comes on the scene, he’s perfect just the way he is. He just needs a little nudging, a little tweaking, a little encouragement. Very time-consuming. Just start here, and it will move a l...

My Darlings ... for the next three weeks, I will be posting nice little spells for you to use to improve your life all in honour of the US release on March 27, 2012 (and Canadian paperback, April 10) of my beautiful new novel THE THIRTEEN. Enjoy, and of course, it's all in the name of Entertainment ... or is it? The Use of Everyday Materials In Common Spells From the Big Book of Spells Ladies of Haven Wood Today’s spell is From the section entitled Health and Beauty Was it Scarlett O’Hara’s mother who said, “You can always tell a lady by her hands …?” This is just as true now as it was after the Civil War. The Ladies of Haven Wood have a certain standard of beauty that must be kept high. We pride ourselves on always looking perfectly put together, whatever our fashion sense. (For instance, no one has ever prevented Glory from wearing florals, in spite of the fact that they DO NOT flatter her figure). That said, well-tended fingernails are an essential. They sho...

Cute as he is, my dog’s not that easy to love. He’s bitey, for one thing, and that puts people off. Also, he can’t play fetch or run for the ball; he doesn’t roll over or high five or get the paper or sing with the piano. He’s got all four legs. Sometimes his anal glands get impacted. He’s not fancy or sought-after for breeding. He’s dirty five minutes after a bath. The MennoKnight says he smells. He eats everything, and then throws it up. He jumps on people and his nails are long but he doesn’t like anyone touching his feet, so they get neglected out of self-preservation because he’s bitey, and there we are, closing the circle. Also, he has terrible owners. They spoil him, feed him from the table and carry him down the stairs (he can’t climb down on his own, although he’s pretty good at going up, which puts us in a terrible spot sometimes, with a barky, crying dog at the top of some stairs, somewhere). But there’s a reason for this badness. You see, Scrappy is blind. Awwww. ...

If you don't know, I -- like so many jet-setters -- have been splitting my time between Winnipeg and New York City. Lately the whirlwind travel has started to damage my internal systems and honestly, my doctor, my bartender and my boyfriend are all suggesting that I start thinking about settling somewhere quiet. So we're looking for an apartment in New York. This is first in a series. If you want deeper insight into this situation, please watch the following, in reverse: New York, New York, Part 1 Penn Station is teeming. There are so many people, it's like Grand Central Station. I make this joke every time I'm there, and I always have to wait for the laugh. I'm still waiting. The MennoKnight doesn't even roll his eyes this time. Maybe it's the heat. We get in line at a taxi stand that is four miles long. A man behind me is talking loudly into his cell about demolition. There's a toddler in a stroller chewing on a dog toy. At least I think it's a ...

I've been in the beautiful Catskill Mountains in New York State for twelve days now. I've watched the leaves go from green to yellow and now they're turning orange and red. It's stunning here, and I've seen it from the land and the water, on foot, by car, train and canoe. This has to be my country fix, since we're heading to NYC in a week and will be there for another two weeks before I head home to the city and batten down for a few months without traveling at all. It's calming and serene and zen and mystic and mythic and windy and rainy sunny cold warm hot wet and hippylicious, not quite what I expected. It was more like visiting a foreign country and finding out it's just your grandma's house, than going away. Well, my grandma's house, anyway. I'm rested and relieved, slightly hung over. I'm also suddenly, remarkably, surprisingly, enlightened. It turns out that the Catskills is the perfect place for an epiphany, so I figured, what th...

My one-lines (or as they say, loglines ) for the new film: "A wife discovers that her husband is having an affair with the dead girl that haunts their new house." Or: "A malevolent ghost seduces a woman's husband, to make him her mate ... forever." Or: "A wife discovers that the biggest threat to her marriage is not the swing-club they've joined, but the dead girl haunting their house." I'm trying to work the phrase "dead sexy" in there somewhere, if just for cheese purposes. Which one would you go see?

Sweet Salvation. Apparently Jupiter is in Your Anus or something and this is making the universe all drunk and horny and she's peering around the world one-eyed and giggling, handing out favours like ... well like a horny drunk. So, the long-awaited opportunity has arrived and I am being PAID to write the screenplay adaptation of my favourite novel, "The Dwelling." I'm on my knees for that drunken universe, and absolutely I mean I'm on my knees. Whatever you want, baby, I'm your bitch. This isn't the first time I've offered the Universe a deep-throat for some kind of break in the dismal clouds that were my horizon over the last five years. I've been on my knees at the slightest glance for a long time. Now she's turned her drunken-coyote-ugly face my way and I'm grateful in a way that no sex-metaphor can really cover, although I'll try to think of some. And this break has been years in coming. I started talking to the producer about The ...