Bedtime Story: THE SUICIDAL SPIDER

Hey, happy Friday!

This story is one I wrote before Christmas, one night by the fire. My house was dead cold — only heated in one room, with plywood for windows and the wind whistling through the walls.

We were sitting by the fire, when I saw a tiny spider scuttle out onto the end of the piece of wood I had just thrown in. In spite all our best efforts at rescue, he turned around and threw himself back into the flames.

And now, as I type this, incredibly, a teeny wee spider has just crawled out on my desk. A tribute to the resiliency of the species!

Anyway, here’s the story. Something a little lighter than you’ve heard for the past couple of weeks, in spite of the title.

Hope you enjoy!

 

 

More soon…

~kc

Bedtime Story: HOW TO GROW A TERRORIST

Modified from a photo by jeshua.nace [CC-BY-SA-2.0], via Wikimedia Commons

 

Here’s this week’s story. Part poem, part recipe, all parts culpable.

It’s funny — the internet has been abuzz since yesterday about the Kony video, now really a meme, about a terrible man who does terrible things. Lots of back and forth on the credibility of the organization who made the film and so on.

Ishmael Beah’s book on his own experiences as a child soldier spoke to another side of the same problem. Recently Carmen Aguirre won CBC’s Canada Reads for her story of growing up under the oppressive regime of Pinochet in Chile.

Historically humanity has never treated its children very well. The age of childhood is really a fairly modern invention, and you know — we still keep getting it wrong. Children are abused and forced into terrible situations all over the world. I always thought my own country was different.
I was wrong.

When I was growing up, I always knew my country was the safest place, especially for kids. And even as an adult, after I’d learned that things weren’t always as clear-cut as my childhood self believed, I still felt like Canadians always at least tried to do the right thing.

And then I learned of Omar Khadr.

I still can’t read his story without massive shame. As a mother — as a person, it haunts me.

Look it up. Here’s the wiki version, for starters: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Omar_Khadr

The language around these horrible situations has a feel of Orwell’s NewSpeak to me — child soldier, freedom fighter. HOW TO GROW A TERRORIST is something all Canadians can take credit for. We put the government in place that allowed this to happen. That condoned it. We need to own this. 

Is this just the way things are?

Can we do something to make change?

I’d love to hear your ideas.

 

 

 

 

 

More soon… ~kc

Bedtime Story: A COUPLE OF NAILS

Well, I had a great idea for a post on bullying this week, and how we pay lip-service to shutting it down, all the while encouraging it in all kinds of official places, but… fail. Ran out of week. Have to save it for another day. 

In the meantime, it’s Friday night and that means it’s time for another Bedtime Story. This one is not for small children or those who might be offended by construction guy-speak. No adult themes here, really, but a few naughty words. Of course, I learned ’em all in the schoolyard…!

Hope you enjoy.

 

 

 

More soon…

 

~kc

Bedtime Story: THE EX-GIRLFRIEND

modified from a Creative Commons licenced photo posted in Flickr by Southern Fairytale [Rachel]

Yep. Another one of those weeks — too much going on to blog between Friday posts. However, as I note in the podcast, I once again have a kitchen, at long last! A light is shining… distant still, but hopeful.

This week’s story is a piece of flash fiction  — a tiny window into the world of someone whose banal existence is shattered one morning at the glimpse of a face from the past.

Another creepy little peek into the strange mind of kc dyer…

Hope you like it!

 

More soon…

 

~kc

Bedtime Story: THE CURE

from a creative commons-licenced photo by Basmet78Here we are — Friday night and time for another bedtime story.

This one is a little more topical than those that have come before.

I’d better state — for the record, and for those who don’t know me personally — that I can almost always be found in the ‘randomized, double-blind study’ science end of the belief spectrum.

However, the somewhat perverse knowledge that science is sometimes misused by those in power for their own ends led me to write this story, in which science is pitted against faith, and the only redeeming character is the one who is given no voice.

It was kind of weird to get into the head of the Doctor, with his twisted logic and pretty much meglomaniacal superiority complex. And the mother is no more a sympathetic character, for all of her misguided love for her child. I don’t think I’ve ever written a story where I so disliked the two main characters more.

Anyway. An interesting exercise. I do think contemporary medicine is getting more and more able to control the chemistry of humanity. I just wonder at the cost. I guess this story is a product of those questions in my mind.

Hope you enjoy the story. Your thoughts are welcome!

 

More soon…

Guerilla Pyjama Bedtime Stories Event

Great fun last night at the North Vancouver Public Library, where I did the first ever guerilla pj reading of a few bedtime stories. The crowd comported themselves with great decorum during the anti-striptease element of the program [hardly any yelling or hooting — yeah!] and seemed to enjoy the readings, too.

Big thanks to Heidi Schiller, head librarian for organizing the event, and to NSWA President Cathy Scrimshaw for sponsoring and for giving me what I think is the best introduction I have ever received. Thanks also to the Friends of the Library for bringing goodies [including wine!] for all to enjoy.

This series continues next month with the wonderful poet Bernice Lever in the reader’s chair. I’ll be there — hope to see you, too!

As for my pyjamas — keep an eye open. You never know where the Guerilla Bedtime Story event will turn up next!

 

More soon….

 

~kc

Sequestered…

I’ve run away for a few days, and am ensconced [with my canines] in a tiny cabin on the coast. This is to facilitate both getting my house repairs closer to finished, AND [hopefully] a big push on completing the edit on my Ceilidh novel. I’m wearing my SiWC t-shirt for inspiration, dogs are walked, diet coke is in the fridge.

Here goes!

 

More soon…

 

~kc

 

PS Will post a reminder later about my North Van reading this Wednesday, February 15th. It’s at 7 pm at the library…would love to see you there!

Bedtime Story: NEW GLASSES

This week’s story is more or less aimed at my own generation — it’s a little creepy in parts for the younger ones, and besides — not sure any of them can appreciate the whole ‘upcoming need for magnifyers’ angle.

So, maybe a pre-listen if you plan to share it with the younger whippersnappers, okay?

[I was actually going to read a different story, called  A COUPLE OF NAILS, but just as I was about to record it, I remembered it has a few — ah — language issues. So that one will show up with a bit of a warning attached, sometime in the future, I’m sure…]

Anyhow, here it is. Hope you like it!

 

 

 You can find more Bedtime Stories at http://kcdyer.podomatic.com/. Love to hear your thoughts!

 

~kc

Dinner with the Goddesses…

Interesting morning.

[Indulge me here — this might take a minute, but it’ll be worth it by the end.]

The brakes on my Jeep are doing something odd right now, and I had an appointment to take it in this morning. This was thwarted by the expected deluge falling, instead, as snow last night.

It’s not that sensible to take a Jeep in to get the brakes checked on snowy roads. Especially when said roads are leading down a mountainside. So I’m hoping to wait the snow out and go later.

Compounding this problem is the fact that I left my phone in town yesterday, at the counter of the local grocery story. I know, I know.

So, no car, no phone.

While I should have been running errands, I am instead…running. And while running, I began to contemplate the names of those who are in my head with me as I run, and those who have been there for the last [ahem] few years.

I started running when I was 19 or so, and have been at it to some small degree [with a minor 10 year exemption for young-motherhood thrown in] ever since.

I came of age at the time of the Hair Bands, almost all populated by boys. A decent power ballad can still bring me to my knees. When I started running, walkman in hand [I know, pathetic, isn’t it?] almost none of the songs I ran to were performed by women. A few of ’em crept in here and there, but big, rocking female voices were just not the norm. I had Tina Turner, of course, and the sisters Wilson from Heart, and half of Fleetwood Mac. Joan Jett and Pat Benetar. But, you know…I think that was it. Debbie Harry, maybe. 

However, slogging away at it today, I was struck, and then delighted, by how things have changed.

So I decided to hold an imaginary thank-you dinner for all of the ladies who have run in my head with me over the years. Care to set the table with me?

First — the guest list.

Well, looking at recent favourites, I’d have to start with Adele, of course. On either side of her I’d put Rihanna and the shade of Amy Winehouse. Katy Perry, but only if she’d leave her fireworks bustier at home. Amanda Palmer would hold court, likely, so she’d want someone interesting to sit with… How about Alannis? She’s seems a lot less angry lately — the two of them could get really zen together.

And, back to the old school, there’d have to be a spot for Bette Midler and Madonna, but I think maybe quite far down the table from Lady Gaga. I’d seat _her_ with Cher — yeah. They’d love that. Pat and Joan could rock the black eyeliner again and reminisce of a time before Stephen Tyler. [Would Aerosmith count? They _were_ pretty girly…. but I think not.]

No, let’s be purists here. Tina Turner gets the seat at the head of the table, of course. And Patti LaBelle, but again — she’d need to be over with Bette and Madge, because of the whole Gaga thing. Annie Lennox can fit in the middle — think she’d enjoy a talk with Kate Bush, or is the Scots Independence movement a little too hot a topic these days? Maybe I should put them with Tracy Chapman, to convince her to put out a new record.

There’d have to be a whole Canadian section, too, with Sarah McLaughlin and kd lang holding court beside Alannis. Maybe we’d let Feist in, though it’s a bit early to say. Amanda Marshall could sit with MIA, since she married a Canadian, after all.

To finish with a little colour, I’d team Pink up with the Indigo Girls and let ’em go wild.

I’ll tell you something, that would be SOME dinner. And if I stayed true to form and made it mostly vegetarian, I bet no one would object. 

I would close the evening by thanking each of them, for all they have brought to music … as well as the help their voices gave me in getting me through every last brutal kilometre. Then I’d hand around the best chocolate cake ever for dessert — made with a little espresso. They’d love it.

I bet you anything, they’d all offer to help with the dishes, too.  But I wouldn’t let them. Steve Tyler could handle it — he’s got enough dishtowels tied to him at any given time to do the job right.

Guess what — you’re invited too.

Who would you like to sit beside? Name me your choice of rock goddess. I’ll make sure there’s enough cake for everyone!

 

 

More soon, of course….

 

~kc

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