Bow. James Bow.

Yes, You Did

2010-03-22T03:17:06Z

Congratulations to the people of the United States of America for finally passing the beginnings of health care reform. You’ve taken a step in the right direction.

I think most people can agree that the bill is not perfect, and that it has been watered down from what was initially promised, but I take comfort in what Allyn Gibson said: none of the landmark pieces of legislation of the past century were passed as single bills. Social security, medicare, even civil rights, were all passed as an incremental series of legislation, all against heavy and loud opposition that prevented an outright victory in the first go.

Such is the way of democracy. The days when one victory over one vote could turn night into day are rare, indeed. The way forward is always a long slog, changing perceptions and changing minds, battling back the forces of ignorance, complacency or simple fear of the unknown. In a perfect world, this would not be so, but in some ways democratic reform would mean less, perhaps, if the way was too easy. It’s not. People went to war to defend the things they believe in. It never has been.

President Obama was elected with exceedingly high expectations, and I know that some of my American friends have been disillusioned that he hasn’t lived up to those expectations in his first year of office. I think, though, that the message Obama should have repeated, once he was elected, until he took office, and beyond, was that the way forward in American democracy was not through him, and it never was. The way forward could only be walked by the people behind him, by the 69.4 million Americans who voted him into office. If these people wanted change, they could not stop with the election, they had to keep on working to bring about change, by talking to their friends and neighbours, writing to their congressmen and senators, by engaging opponents and changing minds. Obama should have presented himself not just as a leader, but as a symbol to these individuals — a symbol which said: hey, you got so far as to elect me; now go out there and see what else you can do.

On the other hand, I must admit to being frustrated by the lies and innuendo I’ve heard thrown up by the filibustering Republicans who seem interested only in stymieing the work of this government and the people who voted it in. Leaving aside the insults I’ve heard thrown at my own country’s fine and decent (and better than American) health care system, these individuals have the gall to call the simple process of voting in health care reform “undemocratic”. How, exactly?

You have here a democratically elected president who campaigned on this issue. You have Democratic majorities in the House and Senate, whose congressmen and senators ran on platforms talking about health care reform. You had one of the greater repudiations of the Republican party in both the 2008 and 2006 elections. You have a president, congressmen and senators doing nothing more than fulfill the mandates that they were elected to. How is that undemocratic?

And you also have polls out there which confirm that most Americans still support health care reform, and those who support the status quo are, like the Republicans, in a minority. How is that undemocratic?

I realize that the 2010 senate and house elections are serious horse races, and that with the economy being as it is, the voters are volatile. However, if by chance the 2010 elections pass and the Democrats still control a majority of seats in either the house or the senate or both, what do these individuals lambasting today’s senators or congressmen for disobeying “the will of the people” do now? Whose “people” are they speaking about? What do the protesting teabaggers say when they’re forced to come out of their echo chambers and realize that tens of millions of Americans who, in most other ways are not much different from them, still disagree with them fundamentally on the role of government in their lives.

At some point, the 60 million Americans who voted for John McCain have to realize that they share a country with the nearly 70 million Americans who voted for Barrack Obama, and that under this democracy, you have to work together to meet the future and that, sometimes, you won’t get everything that you want. Many of the people who voted for Barrack Obama are well aware of this. How do you think they coped during those eight years when George W. Bush was in power.

Will it happen? Will people who go overboard in their criticism of Obama realize that he wouldn’t be where he is without the consent of other Americans who are no different from them? What will they do then? What will they do?

Further Reading

A year-by-year timeline of what this legislation will mean. I know many people who will benefit from this. Thank you, congress!

March Break

2010-03-19T19:36:49Z

Do you know one thing that can bring all writing progress to a complete and grinding halt? March Break. Specifically, a March Break featuring two children, including one exuberant four year old facing a whole week without kindergarten.

But I’m not complaining, much. The kids have had a good week, and I’m proud of that. And this is because the weather has helped out enormously. It has been absolutely beautiful here, with sun and blue skies, and no need to wear one’s heavy winter coat. Spring is here, although I say that with caution, since early spring in Ontario is notoriously fickle. Still, as much as I hate winter, weeks like this make it all worthwhile.

Whatever time hasn’t been spent out of doors playing with the neighbourhood kids has been spent indoors, doing taxes. Yes, I know the deadline is April 30th, but Erin and I are making use of an accounting firm that specializes in dealing with artists and writers, who really need all the help we can get. The fact that we’re both self-employed means a blanched-features-inducing bill come April 30th, or a mammoth task of collecting and cataloguing every single receipt that passes our hands throughout the previous years, or both. But these guys know their way through the byzantine corridors of Canadian tax law, and the result should be a manageable tax bill, a rock hard tax file, and a service worth its weight in gold.

You know, a couple of years ago, a bike courier won his case in the supreme court demanding that he be allowed to deduct the full cost of his daily meals as “fuel”. I wonder if we writers could deduct coffee as fuel? Just asking…

Your Morning Smile

2010-03-16T17:58:40Z

Some of you may recall my post about Repent Amarillo, a group of busybodies who have engage in acts of harassment and intimidation against legal activities they don’t like, including targeting a swing club, blaring Christian music onto the property and, worse still, going through trash and snapping pictures of license plates in order to get names of various attendees which were sent to the attendees employers, co-workers and neighbours.

The Facebook Group Amarillo Citizens Against Repent Amarillo organized in response and, recently, posted a series of YouTube videos about Repent Amarillo’s activities which, among other things, named certain members of the group. That, it seems, was beyond the pale for some members of Repent Amarillo.

After complaints from Repent Amarillo were lodged, the people who posted the YouTube videos voluntarily removed the names in question, but were rather smug about the whole thing, saying:

The poor little boys of Repent Amarillo cried to YouTube about the videos that were uploaded today. I deleted the boy’s names. YouTube will look at it again in 48 days. (four names deleted -jb) did not like their names and pictures out on the web.

(link)

So, a group of people who see nothing wrong in posting other people’s names to neighbours and co-workers with the intent to shame are upset when their own names are posted to neighbours and co-workers with the intent to shame. Gee, what is that called? Oh, the word is on the tip of my tongue. I think it starts with ‘h’.

Does Bill Murdoch Read My Blog?

True maverick Bill Murdoch becomes the latest in the growing line of politicians who suggest that Toronto should become Canada’s eleventh province.

Bruce-Grey-Owen Sound MPP Bill Murdoch wants Toronto to be its own province.

The notoriously independent-minded PC would like to see Toronto separated from the rest of Ontario — he believes people in the Big Smoke think differently than in the rest of the province.

To support his idea, he also points out that the megacity has a larger population than PEI.

Murdoch adds that London could be the capital of the new, Toronto-less Ontario.

(link)

Unfortunately, Murdoch is in his typically combative state. He doesn’t want the 905 region separating with Toronto, and then goes on to complain about the rise of rural windmills in Ontario’s power plan, suggesting that this is a Toronto issue. “Where are they going to get their power? We’ve got a nuclear plant. We don’t need Toronto.”.

Sorry, Bill. If this is about giving all Ontarians, regardless of whether they live in Toronto or North Bay, government that fits their needs, rather than a punitive attempt to get Toronto cooties out of your hair, then the province of Toronto includes the regional municipalities of Niagara, Hamilton, Halton, Peel, York and Durham. The issue of provincehood for Toronto is about the need for a regional manager, and that region has long stretched well beyond the boundaries of the City of Toronto, and has done so since at least the 1970s. Most people in the 905 area code already acknowledge that their economic future is inextricably linked to that of Toronto, and that there is a need for service sharing and coordination on a number of issues, including transportation and social services. If Toronto leaves, it has to take the 905 area code with them. Which means that they’d get a nuclear power plant too (two of them, in fact: Pickering and Darlington), and they’d get Niagara Falls.

And, again I’d point out that creating an actual province out of the GTA would require a constitutional amendment — one that likely would have to be agreed to by all ten provinces as well as Ottawa. That’s not going to happen. Regional devolution, on the other hand might be feasible, and might address the issues. Murdoch is especially concerned about the inaction from Queen’s Park on dealing with the coyote issue. That might be something a regional parliament in southwestern Ontario would have more time or inclination to deal with.

And, p.s.: has Murdoch asked Rick Hillier for his opinion on this matter? Whatever Eastern Ontario thinks of Toronto, it is, at least, just down the road from them. How would they feel if the capital went to a smaller town a few hundred kilometres further west from them, anchored in an area which is considerably less rural than they are? You think they might want a capital city of their own? Centered around Kingston, perhaps?

And Now For Something Completely Different

You remember Sally from Coupling? Remember how they ended the series with Sally having discovered that Patrick has hidden a ring with Sally’s name on it in the closet of his love? I like to believe that this short, starring actress Kate Isitt, is Sally, about five years on.

How Do You Solve a Problem Like Ontario?

2010-03-14T15:29:06Z

Image via Wikipedia

In an earlier post, I talked about how the current mayoralty race in Toronto features a debate on issues that are, by and large, beyond Toronto’s scope. On matters of transportation, as well as a host of other issues not covered (including garbage collection, economic development, infrastructure, social services and tax sharing), there is a need for a regional manager to administer these areas and assure clear and accountable government, while at the same time maintaining a series of local governments responsive to the issues of the smaller communities within the region.

Fifty-six years ago, the solution to a similar situation was to gather Toronto and its ring of suburbs into a unified, two-tier metropolitan government. And while such a solution seems obvious for the Greater Toronto Area today, the province is unlikely to follow this route, since such a metropolitan government today would be so large as to tilt the balance of power in Ontario. For this reason, the Liberal government in Queen’s Park has been acting as the de facto regional manager of the GTA, which is to their credit. There are, however, risks to this approach. The Liberal government in Queen’s Park is also responsible for other parts of the province, and people in some of these areas already feel that Queen’s Park is too caught up in Toronto’s problems and is ignoring their interests. The polarization of this province that’s occurring as a result of this response helps no one.

For me the ideal solution is the most unrealistic. The issues surrounding the governance of the Toronto region are so large they need a province to manage it, so I believe the best policy would be to create a province of Toronto out of the 416 and 905 area codes of Ontario. This would, however, be a constitutional nightmare to implement, and the other provinces of confederation would be unlikely to support the creation of a Mini Me version of Ontario, diluting their powers and interests in Canada.

So, if we can’t bring Toronto to the provincial level to manage its own issues, perhaps we can bring the provincial level down to Toronto.

Under the British North America Act of 1867 and the Constitution Act of 1982, municipalities do not exist in Canada. Issues of municipal governance are solely the responsibility of the provinces, who have the right to delegate those responsibilities to governing bodies of their own creation. Every municipality in Ontario owes its existence to provincial legislation — some even to the Baldwin Act of 1849. Provincial law determines what cities exist, what they’re called, what their boundaries are, how they are governed, what bylaws they can pass, what taxes they can collect, what fines they can issue, and even how those revenues are spent and whether or not the municipality can run an operating deficit (answer: they can’t).

That’s a lot of power that a province can give away and, theoretically, take back. The province of Ontario could, if it so desired, abolish municipalities tomorrow, and run everything centrally from Queen’s Park. Only the obvious stupidity of such a move prevents them from doing so. But if it can divest itself of all of these powers to several dozen municipal governments throughout Ontario, it can divest its powers in other ways. We cannot create a new province to focus on the issues of the Greater Toronto Area, but the province can create pseudo-provinces through devolution.

We already have a precedent for this sort of thing in the United Kingdom which, twelve years ago, created the Scottish Parliament. Government legislation established the powers and responsibilities of that parliament, and its ability to collect its own taxes. Despite fears that this move would enable Scottish independence, this hasn’t happened, and the Scottish parliament is more popular now than ever. A similar move was made, albeit with a lesser transfer of powers, to Wales, and there is talk about carving up the rest of the United Kingdom in a similar fashion.

There is a need for an accountable regional manager for the Greater Toronto Area, but the other areas of the province have their own issues that deserve attention as well. The political, social and economic make-up of southwestern Ontario is different but no less important than that of Toronto. Rural eastern Ontario is different still, and the National Capital Region is struggling with issues of growth management and congestion, and could use some attention of their own. And, of course, northern Ontario has long felt ignored by the politicians of Queen’s Park that it has generated enough separatist sentiment to launch political parties, and even get speculated on by mainstream politicians in the area.

So, let’s devolve. Let’s create four or five regional parliaments, receiving a share of the provincial income tax, and controlling a percentage point or two of the province’s HST. Give these regional parliaments a clear mandate covering municipal issues common throughout their own region, and leave Queen’s Park to focus on issues common to the province as a whole. Then dissolve all county-level governments and all two-tier regional governments. De-amalgamate all megacities into their component parts.

People have complained that, since amalgamation, the City of Toronto has become too large to be responsive to the needs of its citizens, while ironically being too small to act as a competent regional manager. If Ontario were to restructure itself so that Queen’s Park focused on province-wide issues, and various regional parliaments focused on issues common to the region, we could re-form smaller municipal councils that would, theoretically, be more responsive to the issues of the community. The trick would be to make the lines of responsibility clear, delineating which issues are local, which issues are regional, and which issues are provincial.

This wouldn’t be creating a second level of government, because the regional parliaments would be replacing a level of government that already exists: the counties and the upper-tier regional governments that already span this province. It would, however, consolidate them and make them more visible, which theoretically would make them more accountable.

The Scottish parliament shows that a central government can devolve its powers to a regional manager which maintains the legitimacy of its voting public. And the new governance proposed here would not require a constitutional amendment to create. It could happen. The only thing stopping it is a lack of political will.

Further Reading

Proposals for New Canadian Provinces and Territories (Wikipedia)
Northern Ontario Heritage Party (Wikipedia)
Province of Toronto Campaign Site (provinceoftoronto.ca)

Now This Movie Looks Like it Won't Suck...

2010-03-12T04:44:17Z

My friends, I give you: the trailer for the movie Suck:

Tip of the hat to Nunc Scio

In response to his personal dislike of the vampire genre (though I agree with him that zombies are cool), vampires still work if you don’t go the cliched route of taboo sexuality. Kick Twilight into the dustbin of history and go check out Buffy: the Vampire Slayer again. Leaving aside the relationships that Buffy had (and abandoned) with Angel and Spike, vampires here work as a metaphor for the bad boy, the rebel, the James Dean of the undead world. It’s no accident that Spike wears long leather coats. And it would seem that Suck is following the same route. Divorced from vampyrism’s sexual escapades — or even poking fun at it — the genre really takes off, in my opinion.

But it is inherently flexible. The zombies took the element of a supernatural force sucking you in and making you one of them, and ran with it. It’s always been there. And it’s instructive that when people describe the Borg or the Cybermen, and their tendencies to consume populations, making people be like them, their methods are described as vampiric, rather than zomberific.

Zombies are different enough that they can be considered a genre of their own (which makes George Romero one of the only people of the last century to have invented an entire fictional trope; how’s that for a feather in your cap), but to me Zombie-ism is a subset of old Vampirism.

How Do You Solve a Problem Like Toronto?

2010-03-09T20:38:49Z

Image via Wikipedia

Over on Spacing Toronto, columnists John Lorinc and Steve Munro have collaborated on a debate on whether or not the Toronto Transit Commission should be taken over by the provincial transit agency Metrolinx. It’s an interesting read, and you should check it out. The idea is not as far fetched as you might think.

Metrolinx, the provincial agency set up by Dalton McGuinty’s government to invest in public transportation in the Greater Toronto Area, has already made moves onto the TTC’s jurisdiction, with the support of both the TTC and the City of Toronto. Several of the transit announcements that surrounded Metrolinx’s foundation incorporated projects that had been proposed by the transit commission and Toronto’s city council, including Transit City’s network of six LRT lines stretching across the northern half of the City of Toronto. Funding for the Eglinton, Sheppard East and Finch West LRTs have been secured, and Metrolinx appears to have bowed to the TTC’s recommendation that the Eglinton Crosstown line be built as an LRT (with a lengthy underground section in the middle) rather than a more expensive extension of the Scarborough RT).

But Metrolinx’s contributions came with strings attached. Once the Sheppard East, Finch West and Eglinton LRTs are built, they’ll be owned by Metrolinx and not the TTC, even though these will be operated as part of the TTC, accepting TTC fares and transfers to and from connecting TTC routes. This is a sharp departure from how transit infrastructure was built before. Even when the provincial government covered 75% of the cost of subway construction, ownership of the new infrastructure remained with the TTC. These days, it seems to be felt that with the province absolving Torontonians of their share of the infrastructure construction, said infrastructure should be counted against the province’s assets rather than that of the municipality. The fact that this new infrastructure will operate alongside and even connect with TTC-owned infrastructure is a complication that will be addressed another day.

There have been calls for a full provincial takeover of the Toronto Transit Commission before. I recall such suggestions taking place as early as 1994 when Metropolitan Toronto backed away from new subway construction offered by the Bob Rae government. Whatever the benefits provincial ownership of the TTC may offer, the suggestion that Torontonians might have to give up control over their local transit system, to serve regional interests, has not been popular.

Well, at least until now. As Toronto’s structural problems become more clear, as the financial reserves drain out and the city contemplates a $200 million shortfall in the operation of the underserviced TTC, the suggestions have come from several quarters that the province needs to step forward to share the cost of operating Toronto’s transit service. Toronto mayor David Miller and his council are currently in negotiations with McGuinty’s government about some sort of funding arrangement that could come into play by the end of this year. But some proposals have gone further. Recently, mayoral candidate Rocco Rossi voiced what some have suggested: that perhaps the province should take the TTC off of Toronto’s hands altogether. By assuming full cost, they will effectively close the structural funding gap that plagues the city. And assuming full cost might not be possible without assuming full control.

In making the case for uploading the TTC to the province, Mr. Lorinc makes a strong case for a Greater Toronto Transit Authority serving residents in the 416 and 905 region. Already, tens of thousands of commuters each day travel to and from jobs and other destinations located on both sides of the 416/905 divide. The Greater Toronto Area has a balkanized network of transit agencies each concentrating on their own little patch of land, and attempts to coordinate services to make travel more seamless has been slow in coming. Mississauga Transit buses pass TTC stops on their way to the subway, leaving Torontonians on the hook for the cost of operating poorer service on the same roads. The boundaries between the GTA’s transit authorities make less and less sense each day. Maybe it’s time to eliminate them. And if so, maybe it makes sense for the provincial agency, Metrolinx, to assume control.

However, as I noted in the comments posted after this debate, has Mr. Lorinc given much thought as to what a resident in the 519 region might think of this? Or how about 613? Or 705?

One thing the debates surrounding Toronto’s upcoming election show is that the challenges facing the next council are big — bigger, perhaps, than the council is designed to handle. As all sorts of issues, from transit to garbage collection to economic development, now spill outside of Toronto’s boundaries, the need for a regional manager becomes ever more clear. Just one problem: the provincial government seems unwilling to give us just that.

In 1954, when the province of Ontario created the municipality of Metropolitan Toronto, they created an agency that would assure the competent management of Toronto’s regional issues without sacrificing local concerns. The two-tier system worked by allowing the local councils to remain to deal with local issues, while at the same time providing a forum for discussion of regional concerns to take place. But this only worked because of one key criteria: in 1954, the boundaries of Metropolitan Toronto encompassed most of the urban region that was Toronto. By the late 1980s, that percentage had dwindled to near 50%.

Today, the province refuses to create a regional manager for the GTA, instead opting for piecemeal special purpose bodies like Metrolinx to tackle the matter on an issue-by-issue basis. They’ve been leery of regional governance for the GTA since the 1970s when Bill Davis refused a recommendation by former premier John Robarts to expand Metro’s boundaries to encompass Mississauga, Vaughan, Markham and Pickering.

And why would they cut their own throat? A regional government for the GTA would encompass almost half of the province’s population, and an even higher percentage of Ontario’s taxes. It would certainly threaten the dominance of Queen’s Park, creating an elected official that theoretically spoke for half of Ontario.

But the issues of the region of Toronto aren’t going away, and they have to be managed lest the economy of the whole of Ontario is affected. This is probably why Dalton McGuinty has taken the steps he has done to effectively act as the regional manager for the Greater Toronto Area. This is probably why the prospect of a Metrolinx takeover of the TTC is on the table.

Unfortunately, this is likely to fuel greater resentment from the other regions of the province, particularly the north and the rural east, who feel that Queen’s Park is paying less and less attention to their issues and more attention to Toronto’s problems. Already, you’re starting to see the polarization of the province along these lines, and the risk exists that should the government of Ontario shift, the regional manager that Queen’s Park represents (such as it is) may disappear entirely.

It seems unlikely, still, that the province will create a true regional government for the Greater Toronto Area. It’s even more unlikely (by a factor of ten) that the alternate solution of breaking the 416 and 905 area codes into a province in their own right is going to happen. So, what’s to be done? What is to be done?

(Update: March 14): What is to be done? Here’s a suggestion…

Family Portraits

2010-03-08T05:23:22Z

We spent the bulk of this weekend cleaning, or getting out to enjoy what I'd like to call early spring weather, but I won't so as not to jinx it. Today, we had our third Sunday of our new family tradition of making pizzas in our oven (with Wayne and Marguerite's pizza stone using Erin's from-scratch pizza dough), and then heading out to the Waterloo Recreational Complex for an evening family swim. The kids are really into both things, and coming home, it is so much easier getting them off to bed.

Still working on Icarus Down and other writing-related projects, so in the interim, here are more pictures of our cute kids.

	Vivian raises her fist high...
	Ker-Pow!!
	Nora rolls her own dough. Also, note her new hairstyle!
	Peering at Mommy's hands.

The Texas Taliban

2010-03-05T21:38:40Z

And Jesus wept.

Over at the blog What Would Jack Do, Oregon blogger Jack Cluth highlights one of the many reasons he is so glad to find himself in Portland these days, rather than Houston.

An evangelical Christian hate group called "Repent Amarillo" is reportedly terrorizing the town of Amarillo, Texas. Repent fashions itself as a sort of militia and targets a wide range of community members they deem offensive to their theology: gays, liberal Christians, Muslims, environmentalists, breast cancer events that do not highlight abortion, Halloween, "spring break events," and pornography shops. On its website, Repent has posted a "Warfare Map" of its enemies in town.... According to a new exposé by the Texas Observer, Repent set out earlier this year to destroy a discreet club of swingers they discovered in town. On New Years eve, the harassment began, with Repent members, almost exclusively young men, showing up in military fatigues and bullhorns, blaring Christian music at the swingers' club building. The swingers, made up of "regulars" of middle aged, working class couples, were then stalked at every following visit to the club. Repent not only took video of each member, but obtained the swingers' license plates and dug through their trash, informing neighbors and coworkers of what was once private.

Now, I personally don't hold with swinging, and if a swingers' club were to set up shop across the street from me, I would be very interested in protecting my property rights. However, if the swinger's club is a quiet place, with no real outward indication that it is a swingers' club, where the attendees don't end up parking on my lawn, or make me worry about my children, I don't particularly care what goes on inside. There is a difference between complaining about a nuisance, and peering into a neighbour's windows and being offended by what you find inside. And the folks at Repent Amarillo cross that line pretty early on.

Going through people's trash? Confronting people at their place at work? If these people were jilted lovers dealing with their ex-girlfriends, the restraining order would have been issued a long time ago. Worse, these brownshirts aren't limiting their activities to just the swinger's club. Their mission explicitly states that they'll take their military-fatigue-wearing brand of intimidation to gay pride events, Earth Day celebrations, Planned Parenthood events, and even events raising awareness about breast cancer, if those events fail to promote a connection between breast cancer and abortion (a link that has been pretty thoroughly scientifically disproven). Further targets include "Idolatry locations such as palm readers, false religions, and witchcraft."

You know, it's no accident that these guys are wearing military fatigues, blaring their intimidation through bullhorns, and using terms such as "may involve more aggressive use of soldiers and prayer warriors." Even your average evangelicals wouldn't touch these tactics with a ten foot pole (it would be rather hard for Jehovah Witnesses to get converts by this means, but clearly conversion isn't the goal here). As unChristian as these so-called Christians are, it is unfortunately true that our religions have sects within them that twist the religion's message of love into hate, and spin that hate into the threat of violence, and even its act. it's clear to me that, in the long term, the United States has as much to fear from terrorist attacks by Christian-extremist-based domestic groups as they do from foreign-based Islamic-extremist groups. Indeed, some would argue this has already happened, what with Timothy McVeigh in Oklahoma City and, more recently, the looney who flew his plane into a building containing offices of the IRS, although some Republicans are reluctant to make the connection.

Once again, as a Christian, I am shamed by those individuals who claim to follow my faith but in reality follow a darker version that has been twisted into the opposite of the truth. And for this reason, I had to bring this story to the attention of Dr. Dawg. I think it's important that more real Christians speak out against this small town terrorism. It's time for real people of faith to tell these idiots that what they're doing is not okay.

(Update: 4:33 p.m.): I should note that there is some opposition by decent people in Amarillo. A group called Angel Action is standing up to the group's actions, and there is a Facebook group you can join.

Just a Month to New Doctor Who... in Canada!

2010-03-04T20:53:11Z

Image via Wikipedia

Remember the glory days, five years ago, when the new season of Doctor Who was given star treatment on the CBC, with Christopher Eccleston introducing episodes that debuted just a week, if that, following their release in the United Kingdom? Now, after forcing Canadians to wait six months for their Doctor Who-on-CBC fix, the new guys, Space, have provided some redress. Here's a press release:

Millions of fans have been "patiently" waiting for the arrival of the new Doctor. Today, SPACE announces the wait is over as the Eleventh Doctor takes up his residency with a new series of DOCTOR WHO starting Saturday, April 17 at 9 pm ET, exclusively on SPACE. In this 13-part season, a whole new chapter of the iconic DOCTOR WHO franchise unfolds. Actor Matt Smith takes on the coveted role as the Eleventh Time Lord, embarking on new adventures with a new partner, the enigmatic Amy Pond (Karen Gillan).

Saturday, April 17 at 9 p.m. That's not long at all. Now I can review the episodes after most of you guys watch them, rather than before!

Many thanks to Andrew Gurudata for getting me this wonderful news.

And Now For Something Completely Different

I've said it elsewhere, but it applies here: the blooper video for this one must be long and very, very boring. Just watch:

Get your own valid XHTML YouTube embed code

Wow.

Hat tip to John Gushue.

George Smitherman Keeps it Simple, Makes it Stupid

2010-03-03T19:54:43Z

KEITH BEATY/TORONTO STAR

(This has been crossposted to Transit Toronto)

Mayoral candidate George Smitherman was recently interviewed in the Toronto Star (see here), calling for the privatization of city services such as garbage collection and the Toronto Transit Commission. Although he promised not to take such bold steps without ensuring that "outsourcing doesn't diminish services while saving money for taxpayers" he said that "we need to look at outsourcing where it makes sense, given the state of the city's finances, while protecting our citizens."

I don't have the full text of the Star interview in front of me, so I don't have the full context of what Mr. Smitherman said about privatizing certain routes on the TTC, but from what I have read of Mr. Smitherman's comments, he does Torontonians a disservice by offering up piecemeal privatization as a panacea for the city's problems. His solution as presented is especially simplistic for the TTC.

Mr. Smitherman is quoted as saying, "If you say outsourcing and you say the TTC, what do they do? They buy buses and they run them up and down routes for the collection of a fare." He then offers London, England as an example, despite the fact that the example has been criticized, and ignoring the fact that London is significantly denser than Toronto, giving public transit there a significant advantage that the TTC does not have.

He makes it sound so easy, doesn't he? Just offer up contracts and private companies will beat a path to city hall, offering money to purchase TTC vehicles and operating them for no further cost than the right to collect their own fares. A beautiful solution, isn't it? Who could possibly find fault with it? Indeed, why haven't we thought about this in the thirty-eight years since the TTC last made back its operating costs completely from the farebox?

Mr. Smitherman unfortunately seems uninformed when it comes to the finances of the TTC, otherwise he would know that there isn't a single surface route on the system which makes back the full costs of its operation from the farebox. Only a handful (most of them streetcar routes) come close. Even though the TTC is the second-least per-rider subsidized system in North America (75% farebox recovery; only GO Transit does better at 81%; even New York City gets more subsidy from its governments to operate, at 62%), the only parts of the system that might conceivably be profitable are the subways, and they subsidize the operation of the entire surface network.

If you cut out the subways of the network — the only part that a private company could conceivably come forward to purchase and operate without subsidy — you end up increasing the amount of subsidy required to keep buses and streetcars on the road operating frequently. If you cut out the surface routes which are the closest to making an operating profit, then you might decrease the total subsidy required to operate the remainder, but you are forced to ask yourself what steps the private companies will make in order to ensure that the services they purchased make a profit for them.

To his credit, Mr. Smitherman makes further promises, saying "If you're going to outsource the delivery of bus service on one line or five lines or 10 lines, the fundamental conversation … has to be that the frequency of service will not drop," so, no cuts in service will be allowed. Will these routes be required to accept TTC transfers? Will they be required to accept TTC fares? One would think so, which means that the bulk of the savings required for private companies to operate the service for fares alone will have to come from a reduction of labour costs.

For the knee-jerk anti-union types, this is an obvious and desirable solution, although it's worth pointing out that TTC drivers' wages are not significantly out-of-whack compared to their private counterparts. Indeed, there are reports that the TTC and GO Transit are having difficulty hiring and keeping bus drivers, in spite of the wages they offer. After taking the TTC's driver training courses and getting their special bus driver licenses, a number of new personnel have been known to quit the transit agency and take up jobs with the private charter companies, where the passengers they pick up are happy to be on the bus, and where the drivers themselves get to keep tips.

Mr. Smitherman would do well to note that York Region Transit operates under an amalgamation of multiple contracts, some of which have been offered to private companies (a legacy of YRT's creation from the merger of nearly a half-dozen smaller transit agencies). There have been benefits from this arrangement, such as when one contract ran out and a strike occurred, only a part of the network was shut down. However, even with this contracting out of service, York Region Transit has not come anywhere close to eliminating its operating subsidy. Its farebox recovery is less than fifty percent. Even the privately run VIVA service — by all accounts a winner with riders — still requires taxpayer subsidies to run.

If Mr. Smitherman wants to consider the contracting out of the TTC, perhaps he should be bolder than he is. Rather than talk about "one line or five lines or 10 lines", perhaps he should talk about a system where tenders are called for private companies to come forward to operate the TTC, division by division, for a taxpayer subsidy that one expects to be less than the current subsidy required to operate. It's a debate Torontonians deserve to have, and there are potential benefits to this arrangement, even though it would require a lot of political capital to implement, make for an interesting few years in the labour relations department, and may not in the end produce the results that some proponents of privatization expect.

However, Mr. Smitherman owes Torontonians more than suggesting that the changes he offers are both bold and simple. Bold they may be, but they aren't as simple as he claims, and they won't save Torontonians from the need to pay for the transit that they deserve.

Preparing for the Invasion

2010-03-02T04:59:00Z

Over at The Last Exile, Kate gets a chuckle over the image above, which was sent to her in an e-mail.

I got a chain email asking if I am ready for redemption. Apparently, an image sent back by NASA’s Hubble Space Telescope has created quite the stir in some circles and at World Net Daily. Christians see a cross and Jews a Star of David. I can’t see the cross but I do get the shield of David thingy.

(link)

Me? I see a Romulan Warbird.

See for yourself:

Suspicion (Icarus Down Passes 50,000 Words)

2010-02-27T04:31:11Z

(The image above is courtesy the web site ImageAfter)

I went into Toronto today, to meet up with a few people around the OLA Superconference. The past few years, the superconference has been held at the end of January, but apparently organizers moved it to the end of February because the January dates were affected too often by winter storms.

How did that work out, guys?

The trip in was uneventful, mostly because I avoided the rush hour. Coming back, though, was a bit of an ordeal, thanks to accidents along the 401 backing up traffic. But I’m home now. And I had a good time.

It was a pleasure to meet fellow author Emily Pohl-Weary. It was just a social get-together at the Roastery café at the corner of Richmond and Spadina. We chatted about our writing, and we spent a little time working on and sharing our latest projects. It’s always nice to talk to a kindred spirit, and Erin and I look forward to meeting up with Emily again when she heads out our way.

As for Icarus Down, I spent some time today rewriting a scene. The story has been going well, and it now has a word count of 53,299, an increase of 5449 words since my last report, twelve days ago. It feels good, even though I expect to rewrite the thing completely once the first draft is done.

Honestly: I will print out a draft of the story, get a few good people to look it over and give me their opinions, and then I’ll set it down beside my computer and type in the thing again, making changes along the way. I did this for The Night Girl and The Dream King’s Daughter, and the level of improvement I was able to achieve was remarkable.

Anyway, here’s another scene from the late-middle of act one, taking place directly after this scene here. Simon has met up with Rachel and they go out on a date. However, as you can expect, nothing is quite as it seems. Enjoy!

I waited by the Junction: the hub of corridors near the Great Hall that gave access to Iapyx’s entertainment facilities. I sat by the small fountain, among other young couples sitting around and holding hands. I waited until the prearranged time, looking around, trying to spot Rachel among the walking crowd. She was late, and by the time five minutes had past, I was shifting back and forth on my seat, looking around frantically. Finally I saw her.

She was out of her nurse’s uniform. Her dress — still white — was simpler, more casual and showed where her leg curved out from her ankle. Her face lit up when she saw me wave, and she came forward quickly.

“Hey, Rachel,” I said. “Mmph—”

She’d wrapped her arms around me and was kissing me. Right in the middle of the thoroughfare. I heard passers-by chuckle and shake their heads and could picture them muttering ‘kids these days’. One older couple clasped hands as they passed us. Then I realized my priorities were off, and I needed to focus on kissing. So I did.

Rachel’s kisses travelled up my cheek, and then she whispered in my ear. “Did you turn out the lights?”

“What?” I stopped, my stomach dropping with the realization that there were ulterior motives to these kisses.

“Did you look over your shoulder?” She switched ears. “Were you followed?”

I kissed her throat. “Yeah,” I mumbled. “Someone’s watching my apartment, and I gave two battery boys the slip.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she whispered. “Keep kissing me.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice.

“There’s a chance they might still be watching us,” she muttered. “So, let’s go on with this date.”

“Uh… okay.”

Then she pulled away, clasped my hands and, speaking more loudly, said, “So! What movie are we to see?”

“Um,” I said, trying to match her volume, then giving up because it sounded way too fake. In my normal voice, I said, “Whatever’s playing.”

She took my hand and led me to the theatre, and we picked the first movie that would play. We got our crunch-wafers and our drinks and we sat in the theatre amongst a couple dozen other people, some in couples, some not, as the projector started up. The theatre showed both movies and stageplays, and right now we all focused on a large screen that had been placed in front of the curtains. The film jiggled in its sprockets and pictures began to play on the screen. Drums and trumpets played on the speakers as the picture showed spotlights swinging around a logo that talked about a fox that lived centuries ago.

The movie opened with scenes of rolling hills and trees. I drew back in my seat, struck by the beauty of old Earth, while credits briefly flashed and the movie’s name, Last of the Mohicans, was displayed.

My attention was jolted when Rachel leaned into my shoulder and breathed a kiss into my ear.

“There are two security officers here,” she said.

“What?” I said, too loudly. More quietly, I said, “What?”

“They’re in the last row,” she whispered before giving my ear a nibble.

I shuddered. It took me a minute to gather my thoughts. “How do you know?”

“I know.”

I hadn’t seen them at all. Whoever was following us, they’d stepped up from the two battery girls.

“What do we do?” I whispered. I shifted, about to stand up.

“Don’t leave the movie early,” she said, gripping my arm. “That’ll attract suspicion.”

“Okay,” I breathed. But the feel of Rachel this close to me, combined with all of the secrets, was making it impossible for me to follow the film’s plot, which seemed to involve a lot of depressing violence. I suddenly wasn’t in the mood for my snacks, so I set my bag on the floor by my feet. We waited until the film was over. Then we got up and shuffled down the steps with the rest of the crowd.

Rachel put her arm in mine. “Get ready,” she whispered as we neared the bottom of the stairs.

“For what?” I whispered back.

She pulled me to the edge of the stream of people, so that we walked close to the stage. Then she ducked up the steps onto the stage and lunged behind the curtain. I didn’t realize until I felt the pull on my arm and staggered after her.

It was hard trying to be quiet and fast at the same time, while wandering in a darkness surrounded by velvet curtains. Ahead of me, Rachel opened a door, and it thwacked me in the shoulder as I followed her into a room. I held tight to her hand as I stumbled in the dark. I stubbed my toe on a table and kicked over a chair with a clatter. “Where the— ow! Where are we?”

“Backstage,” said Rachel. I couldn’t see the back of her head as she pulled me on.

“Where are we doing here?” I whispered. “They’ll have no problem finding us; there’s no back way out!”

“Oh, yes, there is,” she replied. “Mind these boxes.”

“What boxes? Ow!”

She pulled me to one side, then pushed me back. This time, she guided my hands to a set of what felt like pipes attached to the wall. Rungs, I realized. A ladder. “Watch your step,” she whispered. “There’s a drop.”

My heart stuttered as my feet stepped out over nothing, and then found a rung with ankle-jarring certainty. “Thanks,” I grumbled.

“Don’t mention it. Go down. I’ll follow.”

I heard thumping footsteps behind me. People were walking on the stage. I descended. Moments later, when we were several feet down, I heard a click, and I looked up. Above me, beyond the silhouette of Rachel’s legs and skirt, somebody had entered the room and had flicked on the light. There was a sound of boxes being kicked about.

That’s when my feet touched solid ground. I staggered back and helped Rachel from the ladder. “Thanks,” she whispered. Then she took my hand and led me through another cluttered corridor.

“I didn’t know this was here,” I whispered.

“That’s because you never tried out for the drama program,” she replied. Hearing a question in my silence, she added, “A friend did. Elizabeth. She showed me the place.”

Behind me, I heard voices, and the clang clang of heavy feet descending the ladder, fast.

Rachel glanced behind us and swore. “They’re good,” she muttered. But then we turned a corner and came to a door. Rachel undid the deadbolt and yanked it open. The corridor outside was grey and smelt of steam and oil. We must have been in one of the utility levels, near the factories. We ducked out and Rachel closed it behind her, locking it with a key she’d pulled from her pocket. Seeing me stare, she held it up. “Also from Elizabeth. Come on; I don’t think they’ll be fooled for long.” And she took my hand and we ran.

We dashed through the grey utility corridors, past workers who stared at us, startled. We passed the spot where the steam pipe had burst — an area of the floor was still cordoned off with yellow tape — and we ducked under a ladder held by two startled battery boys.

Then Rachel pulled me aside. I was getting used to this, by now, and I followed her quickly, although my heart jumped to find me running headlong at what I took to be a section of corridor wall. But then Rachel ducked around an edge and, when I followed, I found myself in a maintenance shaft so narrow, I had to walk along it sideways. Rachel stopped, then, and caught me as I bowled into her. She held a finger to her lips, then held me, as we looked back the way we’d come, and waited.

For a moment, the scene outside in the corridor was normal, with people walking quickly to and from work, but then I heard footsteps. Two men in uniform rushed up, stopped, and looked around, looking very frustrated. I shrank back, but Rachel grinned, satisfied. The men looked around fruitlessly, whispered something to each other, then strode off the way they’d come. I let out the breath I’d been holding.

“We’ve lost them,” I said. “Now what?”

“Not far now,” said Rachel. Taking my hand, she led me down the maintenance corridor. The hiss of steam and the rattle of fans filled the air and it was uncomfortably hot. I loosened the collar of my tunic. Finally, we reached a point where the corridor opened up enough for us to walk in single file, facing forward. I tried to get control of my breathing. I was pushing the limits of my rehab stamina. “How much longer?” I said, between breaths.

Then suddenly Rachel stopped, turned, and kissed me.

There was something different about this kiss. It was more intense. It made me hold her and want to never let her go. As fun as the other ones had been, it felt like this one was something that she meant. All too soon, she pulled back. In my befuddlement, I hardly noticed that her cheeks were flushed.

She reached out beside her and knocked on a section of wall. Then she turned back to me. “I’m sorry, Simon,” she said, between breaths.

For a moment, I wasn’t sure if I heard her correctly. “Wha— What?! Why?”

“For all of that,” she said. She looked down at the ground a moment before bringing her gaze back up to me. “For the act.”

I felt like some giant rat was gnawing on my chest. “Hey, I-I’m not complaining. I enjoyed it.”

“It wasn’t fair to you,” she said firmly. “But it was necessary.”

“Wh-Why?” I said. Then all of my frustration, all of my bewilderment, rose up inside me. “Why was it necessary? Why is the mayor’s office following us? How did you know that they were? Why do we have to duck and hide all over the place? What’s going on, Rachel?”

She stood there and clasped her hands in front of her. Beside her, the section of wall tapped back, and a small panel opened, shining light on the both of us. Then Rachel gave me a sweet look. “What’s your first question?”

I frowned at her. “Who are you?”

She smiled and took my hand. “Good one. I’ll show you.”

The wall opened, bathing us in light and sound. Rachel led me inside.

It Was One of Those Mornings...

2010-02-24T05:11:08Z

Image via Wikipedia

Still fighting off a cold. Still climbing out through the laundry (but almost done, now). In the meantime, here’s a little bit of flash fiction.

It was one of those mornings when every step had to be carefully itemized in order to prevent things from getting missed.

Wake up.
Rub hand over eyes.
Wish I was dead.
Motivate myself to get up.
Motivate myself some more.
Remind myself that if I don’t show up to work today, I may well be fired.
Get up.
Stumble into shower.
Pick myself up off of shower floor.
Turn water on.
Adjust temperature to comfort.
Lather up and soap.
Rinse.
Turn water off.
Get out of shower.
Dry self off.
Return to bedroom and get dressed
a. put on underwear
b. put on undershirt
c. put on shirt
d. put on tie
e. put on socks
Head downstairs.
Put water on to boil.
Spoon out one teaspoon of coffee beans into coffee grinder.
Spoon out another teaspoon of coffee beans into coffee grinder.
Spoon out another teaspoon of coffee beans into coffee grinder.
Spoon out another teaspoon of coffee beans into coffee grinder.
Spoon out another teaspoon of coffee beans into coffee grinder.
Consider the length of the coming working day.
Spoon out another teaspoon of coffee beans into coffee grinder.
Grind coffee.
Dump coffee grinds into coffee press.
Pour boiling water into coffee press.
Make coffee.
Pour coffee.
Add milk.
Drink.
Savour.
Ahhhhhhh!
Savour
Ahhhhhhh!
Note time.
Run to front door. Put on shoes.
Stumble outside.
Lock up.
Walk to the bus stop.
Wait for the bus.
Wonder why people are staring at me.
Realize.
Head home.
Unlock front door.
Take off shoes.
Head to bedroom.
Put on pants.

A Short Story on Unresolved Sexual Tension

“Hey, Scully?”

“Yes, Mulder?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m whittlin’.”

“What are you whittlin’?”

“I’m making a cluebat.”

Rob Anders Brings Out the Dead

2010-02-23T17:45:07Z

Never let it be said that Conservative MP Rob Anders can’t motivate people to vote. Well, actually…

Remember the fun people had when Joe Volpe started putting together a run for the Liberal leadership and supporters may have used children as young as eleven to contribute funds to his campaign, thus circumventing campaign financing laws? I definitely recall a parody web site set up to congratulate Volpe on really motivating the youth vote, but hey, at least he didn’t use dead people.

From Accidental Deliberations, I learn the following from the Hill Times: apparently to protect lightweight MP Rob Anders, the Conservatives set up a vote within the riding, polling party members on whether a nomination battle was needed. How did it go?

The council last year deflected an earlier attempt by members of the association to schedule a nomination meeting, using a controversial poll of all the party’s incumbent ridings. The poll, billed as a new element of the party’s policy of shielding Conservative MPs from nomination challenges, asked members to mark mail-out ballots and return them if they wanted a riding nomination.

Members were told that unreturned ballots would be considered votes against nomination meetings and no riding, including Calgary West, met the required threshold of two-thirds support.

The Calgary West rebels say ballots that were sent to a handful of deceased former members and went unreturned were included in the count, a point acknowledged by Anders’ supporters.

(link)

Well, I always suspected Anders had an ear for the zombie vote, and now here’s proof.

Seriously, though, I’m reminded of an episode of The Simpsons showing how Homer handles prayer: “God if you want me to eat this, send me no sign whatsoever.” (pause) “All right, then!” (omnomnomnomnom!)

The ballots sent to deceased party members and accidentally counted — something which Anders supporters acknowledge, note — are really only a part of the problem. Notice how the Conservatives are using the equivalent of negative billing in order to extract the ‘democratic’ outcome they want. Remember when the cable companies put a bunch of new stations that nobody asked for onto our televisions and made it our obligation to say something or else we’d be billed for them? Remember how angry we got about that?

For those who have thrown up their hands at the system and have resolved not to vote, this is something you need to watch out for. As you can see above, the Conservatives not only don’t care about the fact that you’re not voting anymore, it would seem that they are interested in setting up a system that takes advantage of your frustration. You of all people know that silence does not equal consent, but that’s not how the Conservatives have chosen to interpret this result.

That’s a sort of arrogance and underhandedness that goes beyond that of the Liberals of old.

Shortcuts to Success

2010-02-22T05:28:12Z

Image via Wikipedia

When I heard that author J.K. Rowling was being sued for plagiarism (again), I did what I think most people did, which is to say: rolled my eyes and went on with my life. Such are the perils of being rich and famous and an author (and, please note, these three elements rarely mix). I am warned, by other authors, that there are crazy people out there, and if your book catches the eye of some of them, and if the ideas you write about are somewhat similar to what they’ve written (or, more likely, thought about writing), they will accuse you of stealing their ideas.

This is, of course, lunacy.

But reading this post by Teresa Neilsen-Hayden, I’m beginning to think that I should pay more attention to this case. The entertainment value could be considerable, especially when the judge comes down on the plaintiffs like a ton of bricks for their frivolous lawsuit.

Teresa goes through the case of Jacobs estate piece by piece, and it seems obvious to me from the things she deconstructs that the book Adrian Jacobs tried to put together, that Jacobs didn’t go the usual route that most authors take in order to get published. Indeed, he took a number of short cuts, such that the book can not really be taken seriously.

The only publishing detail the relatives seem to know is exactly how many copies were printed. Most or all of the copies wound up in the hands of the author. He sent many of them to his agent, which is an odd thing to do if you already have a legitimate publisher. Maybe I’m wrong, but to me this sounds like vanity publishing.

I can tell you one thing that definitely didn’t happen: the book didn’t get edited, copy edited, or proofread, which is sad considering that it’s only 36 pages long. Check out the prose. (If you’re feeling brave, here’s the complete list of excerpts.) The punctuation is full of errors, and never rises above “haphazard.” Obvious words are left out, and essential connections and descriptions are missing. Some passages make no sense at all. The text contains errors no editor would let stand, like “bathroom-come-study,” “carpenterised” for “remodeled” or “subdivided,” and “fawcett” for “faucet.” Some interesting passages:

Willy sat in Ali Baba’s chair and was frequenctized into vision acute, now receiving clarity waves from the Ruby Tower.

Kentucky set the scene for the polo feast. A green green carpet appeared like a field in the sky, and the audience was enthralled as the mini polo ponies careered back and forth with their Jockies at breakneck velocity around the entire carpet lawn. … Duke plied them with the local coconut juice which spiced and blended with Bay pineapple juice, caressed their lovely day.

Oy! The word ‘frequenctized’ makes my eyeballs hurt, and the phrase ‘frequenctized into vision acute’ probably would have made me spray coffee all over my keyboard had I been drinking some.

The biggest strike against the Jacobs’ estate lawsuit is that you can’t copyright ideas — at least, not ideas that are as vague in their similarities to J.K. Rowling’s The Goblet of Fire that they’ve argued. The lawsuit comes down to the fact that both Jacobs and Rowling wrote a book about a child who discovered he had magical powers and entered into a world connected with our own where wizards operated, and where there was a wizardly competition. Bzzt! There are dozens, if not hundreds of books out there where children discover they have magical powers and a magical heritage, where kids go to wizardly schools and wizardly competitions take place. Many of them, as Teresa notes, predate Jacobs book. Should he be sued for plagiarism in turn?

But what gets me most of all is the tale of Willy the Wizard’s trek to publication:

Adrian Jacobs’ work “The Adventures of Willy The Wizard” was well received when it was sent around in manuscript form by his literary agent to potential publishers in 1987.

No. While the publishers may have found kind things to say about it, they rejected it.

Publishers were enthusiastic about his ideas, including …

(List of ideas, carefully selected and phrased to maximize the resemblance to Rowling’s work.)

…

However his literary agent advised him that the work needed some re-writing and was densely packed with themes and ideas that needed expansion and development.

I’ll bet. After all, we’re comparing a 36 page book with a 640 page tome. That tells me that something got short shrift.

Adrian Jacobs was impatient to publish and not wishing to re-write, Adrian commissioned an illustrator- Nick Tidnam RBA and retained him to illustrate the manuscript. Cecil Turner of Bachman Turner published the book in October 1987.

Aha!

Some 5000 copies were printed. Adrian sent a large number of copies of the highly colourful finished book to his literary agent. Adrian Jacobs visited several schools and read extracts from AWTW. The book was reviewed in papers including the Daily Express.

And, as Teresa notes: the article makes no mention of book sales or distribution, nor does it explain why Jacobs had to send so many books to his literary agent in the first place (My literary agent only needs a couple of copies to try and market my books to foreign publishers). It isn’t confirmed, but it sounds very much like Jacobs paid for the costs of publishing himself (as in vanity publishing). He certainly paid for the services of an illustrator, which just doesn’t happen in the world of serious publishing.

And being impatient to publish and not wanting to rewrite? Great, honking, big rookie mistake made by wannabe authors who, by and large, don’t get to be professional authors. Erin, whose novel Plain Kate is due to be published by Arthur A. Levine (who actually did edit Harry Potter) this coming September, has visited schools with a stack of manuscripts about two feet high which she shows off to the students. They are about six, or so, complete manuscripts of the story, each one a separate revision. Are these all of the revisions you did to the novel? the students ask. No, she tells them. I did several versions on my own. These are all of the revisions I made to my novel, after the editors got a hold of it.

Back in my early days of trying to write professionally, primarily by trying to break into the Virgin Books line of Doctor Who novels, Paul Cornell quoted the television series Fame at me. “You got big dreams. You want fame. Well fame costs. And right here is where you start paying.”

He’s right, you know. Most of the time, you can’t take shortcuts to success. And it’s unseemly to take swipes at those who have been more successful than you. I strongly suspect that this case will be dismissed very quickly.