It’s been a week since I posted here, and it’s been a weird week.
The weirdest part was that a lot of travelling was involved. Last Thursday afternoon I flew out of here to Hamilton, ON, to spend a wonderful weekend visiting with friends there. That part was good and not weird.
If you saw the comment I added to my last email, you’ll remember that the only thing marring my relaxing weekend away was a couple of pieces of bad news from home. Which explains why, after I flew back home on Sunday night, I was home for about a day and a half, and a half-day of that was swallowed up by attending a funeral. There’s nothing good to say about the death of a twenty-year-old; no bright spots to find in that bleak event.
Then, barely re-acclimatized to St. John’s, I was back on a plane Tuesday afternoon, flying to Halifax for the Atlantic Book Awards.
One of the big problems here is that I don’t really like flying. I like travel — i.e. I like being in new and different places — but I don’t like the process you have to go through to get there. On the way to Hamilton I flew WestJet and on their seatback TV screens there’s a default message that says “THANK YOU FOR FLYING WITH US.” At some point I glanced at the seats across the aisle quickly and was briefly convinced that the screen said: “FLYING WILL KILL US ALL.” That says something about my state of mind.
So, six different plane flights in a week left me a bit unsettled — lucky thing I’m not one of those successful authors who gets sent on a big book tour where I’m flying into a new city every day!
In Halifax, I attended the book awards, where By the Rivers of Brooklyn did not win for Best Atlantic-Published Book. That honour went to A Field Guide to Newfoundland Birds, a beautiful book which richly deserved the award. I didn’t mind that much; in my opinion the main purpose of getting nominated for an award is to get a little more promo buzz around a book, get it out where a few people who haven’t seen it before might pick it up and want to read it. That did happen this week, so I’m glad for the chance to go to Halifax for this event. It really is impressive how much literary talent there is here in Atlantic Canada.
All the same, I could have done without getting up at 4:45 on Thursday morning to catch a cab to Halifax airport, to catch a flight home, to get a ride from the airport to work and be in class by 8:45.
It hasn’t been a bad week — certainly not by the standards of the weeks some people I know have been having — but it’s been an odd and unsettled one. It takes a week like this to remind me just how much I’m a creature of habit, and how dependent I am on my comfortable routines. I’m glad to get back into those routines now and resume semi-normal programming. And I’m glad I don’t have to get on a plane for a long, long time.