Safe & Sound in Toronto

Robinson and I have safely arrived in Toronto. Robinson wanted to take the ship, but I told him he had such an appalling track record where sea voyages were concerned that I would never EVER go on board on a ship with him. Never mind that he knows all kinds of nifty things, like to survive on a desert island for years on end.

I mean, really, would YOU like to spend several years on a desert island, with no internet access, no Twitter, no Facebook, no Blogger, and worst of all: no amazon deliveries!

Getting through immigration at Toronto airport was surprisingly easy, and in no time at all I was in possession of a work permit. Cool!

After collecting my very large and very heavy suitcase, I took a cab into town - it felt a bit like going to an RWA conference hotel. :) Alas, there were no other romance writers in sight when I arrived at the hotel - too bad! Yet despite the lack of romance writers, the hotel is lovely, my room is gorgeous and very spacious (with a small kitchen, a dining area and a sitting area), and the staff is super-friendly.

Spent ages unpacking my suitcases. Realised I had forgotten all my skirts. Duh. So, skirt-shopping is the order of the day today!

After having found a place to store all my belongings, I went food shopping and nearly dropped dead when I saw the prices for food. $ 2.49 for a litre of milk!?!?!? What's up with that?!?!?! (I consoled myself that perhaps I had ended up in a very expensive grocery store...)

Bought something that looked and felt like a very large German Broetchen, was called "European bread" and was absolutely tasteless. Ah well. The blueberries more than made up for the roll desaster!

With the food shopping done, I went out again and walked towards Queen Street. Spotted a Chapters. The sight of all the lovely, lovely books lured me inside and I ended up spending an indecent amount of money on books and magazines. But how could I resist a book called "Jane Austen's Sewing Box"? Or "Jane Austen: An Illustrated Treasury"? Or "Old Houses of Toronto"?

Lugging several kilos of books, I walked back to the hotel, ate my tasteless roll, checked out the TV channels (hu?), before my body decided that it had had enough and now wanted sleep.

Off to bed - until the sounds of the fire alarm woke me up around 2 a.m. Via the loudspeakers we were informed that the alarm had gone off on the seventh floor and that we would be informed shortly about what was going on. I debated whether I should leave my room or not, but being on the 22nd floor and thus probably the last person who would be saved in the case of a roaring fire, I decided that I should better. Leave my room, that is. So I did and had the chance to admire big Canadian fire trucks. And fire fighters wearing their full gear.

The hotel did NOT burn down, though.

Lucky me.

Packing for Toronto, Part 5

Started packing at ten this morning.

At around noon, I realised that I had chosen a suitcase that was much too small.

Fiddled with my cabin luggage.

Realised I had too much stuff to put into cabin luggage.

*head desk* *sob*

Fast reorganisation ensued aka I dragged one of our HUUUUUUGE suitcases down from the attic.

Put everything in the small suitcase back onto the bed. Kicked small suitcase. Then started packing all over again.

Finally: packing triumph at 3 p.m. Yay!

Packing for Toronto, Part 4

12.30 a.m.

I'm giving up.

Packing for Toronto, Part 3

HELP!!!!!!

It's 11 p.m. and the piles are still sitting on the bed, the suitcase is still in the attic, and I'm still not finished packing. *sob*

(See? I told you I would be reduced to tears before the end of the day!)

Packing for Toronto, Part 2

How to uphold the morale when packing suitcases:

• Call friends.
• Download clips from Spooks 7 & 8
• Download interviews with certain cast members of Spooks 7 & 8 (certain cast members who also had roles in Robin Hood and Strike Back)
• Download certain CBeebies bedtime stories
• Stuff yourself with cookies

Packing for Toronto Part 1

On Friday I'll fly to Toronto, where I will teach a six-week, 72-hour seminar on "The Rise of the Novel" to a bunch of unfortunate students at York University. These past few days ... uhm ... weeks I've been a bit of a nervous wreck, whereas today I'm surprisingly calm and collected while packing my suitcase. But don't worry: packing my suitcase always reduces me to tears at the end of the day.

At the moment, I'm busy carrying clothes to our downstairs flat, where I spread them out in neat piles on the empty bed. Said piles are alarmingly large, and what's even more alarming, they've joined company with equally alarming amounts of tea, chocolates, shoes and VIBs (= very important books). And all of these I need to stuff into one suitcase.

Hmph.

Following the advice of my dear friend Kathleen Givens, I've put aside a change of underwear, socks and a nightshirt to be put into the cabin luggage in case my suitcase ends up in China.

Or Timbuktu.

Charming, Indeed!

Didn't I tell you that the world is full of meanies? Here's another one: Susan Elizabeth Phillips. Not only does she have a name which I never know how to spell (Is it two Ls? Or two Ps? Or both???), no, she also writes books that you can't put down, like this one:

How mean is that?

Last night, after a long period of not reading or buying any e-books, I switched on my Cybook once again and browsed the titles I have stored on the reader. That's when I stumbled across NATURAL BORN CHARMER, which I hadn't read before. I just wanted to have a little peek inside the book. Read the first chapter perhaps, as a kind of Betthupferl (you know, that itty-bitty piece of chocolate that you eat just before you go to bed) (only this was a Betthupferl of the non-chocolate variety, of course). So, just an itty-bitty peek. No more.

Then I read this first sentence:

It wasn't every day a guy saw a headless beaver marching down the side of a road, not even in Dean Robillard's larger than life world.

Now that's mean, isn't it? Uber-mean, in fact. How can you start a novel like this? It's so not fair to your poor reader!

But that's not the worst! This is what follows:

"Son of a"" Dean slammed on the brakes of his brand new Aston Martin Vanquish and pulled over in front of her.

The beaver marched right past, her big flat tail bouncing in the gravel, and her small, sharp nose stuck up in the air. Way up. The beaver looked highly pissed.

She was definitely a girl beaver because her beaver head was missing, revealing sweaty, dark hair pulled into a scraggly ponytail.

See what I mean? Things like this should be forbidden. Not only is it highly unfair to other authors, who might turn green with envy while reading this novel, but it's also highly unfair to the poor reader who gets sucked into the story before she even knows what has hit her.

As you have probably guessed by now, I found NATURAL BORN CHARMER highly enjoyable. What's more, it reminded me why I love romance so very much. It reminded me that a good romance displays an optimistic attitude towards life and leaves the reader with a big, happy smile on her face. :)