tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16370654656381707032024-08-29T05:43:38.887-06:00Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.comBlogger330125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-7858852915611539192015-10-25T14:56:00.000-06:002015-10-25T14:56:05.721-06:00

Ok. For all those faithful followers, those who keep checking back for more updates, or what have you...I am moving my blog to my website. This one will still be accessible, the feed can be found on my website. Please link over to www.robinzvaneck.com to keep up with me.

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-26983204843492896532015-04-21T09:23:00.002-06:002015-04-21T09:23:50.407-06:00

Why do we write short stories? It seems like a crapshoot when the only ones who really read them are other writers. Right? Ask the average reader (who has no interest in writing) and they don't give a lick about the short story. They want novels. Something they can really sink their teeth into and will keep them engaged for hours, sometimes days. Yet, we writers continue to dabble away at the

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-67953477171278117442015-04-02T08:24:00.000-06:002015-04-02T08:29:08.951-06:00

This past Saturday there was a write-in and I wrote. 12 hours of bleary-eyed writers, writing and editing and jabbering about writing when the fingers didn't want to work anymore. And there was food. That glorious nourishment some writers forget to do, because..well...they're writing. It rained that day. The first real rain of spring in Calgary. Couldn't have asked for a better day to be buried

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-35744747243534542372015-04-01T05:00:00.000-06:002015-04-02T08:26:10.508-06:00

As a writer sometimes these phrases just slip into your mind, you don't know where they came from but they're just there. Random. Uninvited. Obtrusive sometimes. The gunk between my toes. That's the sentence that came to me. Dangling in front of me like a pair of dirty panties. And of course, I think a lot about things in terms of metaphor and how they relate to writing or something I'm doing.

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-89837327261830253842015-03-29T05:00:00.000-06:002015-03-29T05:00:04.066-06:00

Photographs have colour. Two-dimensional yet full of depth and emotion and possibilities. Everyone who looks at a photo gets a different idea of what's going on, yet everyone sees exactly the same thing. Photography is not easy by any means. Trying to capture that perfect image with just the right light, coming in at just the right angle. Too much light, not enough light. All problematic. But

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-16239666108809419872015-03-27T09:30:00.000-06:002015-03-27T09:30:04.095-06:00

I'm building a boat. Not really. But I am writing a novel. It's kind of the same. Writing a novel could be like building a boat though I've never actually tried to build a boat so this analogy might get lost somewhere along the way. Let's say for a minute that it is like building a boat. You have an idea. That's your schematics. You can't build a boat or anything for that matter and expect

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-26272437135625089852015-03-26T12:50:00.000-06:002015-03-26T12:50:08.355-06:00

So I'm writing a novel. It's not the first time. It likely won't be the last. Over the years, I've started many different stories which I thought would become novels and in each one, about half way through, I stalled. For various reasons, I suppose. But more likely due to my own ambivalence. Is this good, is this a story people would want to read, is this a story I really care about or am I

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-83762523295268804592014-12-08T11:54:00.003-07:002014-12-16T07:59:10.785-07:00

 "Ju-li-anne." She ticked off the syllables on her fingers. I smiled. I couldn't help it. Our daughter has come so far in the last few years. She's almost not the same child. Confident, enthusiastic, a desire to learn and please (most of the time). She reads a lot and well, and appears to enjoy it. We understand what she says at least 75% of the time. When she was three we started to

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-13545542512377658112014-10-21T09:34:00.003-06:002014-10-21T09:34:51.282-06:00

Every morning when I drop off the child at school, I glance around the schoolyard and watch the kids, remembering when I was that age and what school was like. The child plays on the playground with a mix of kids of all ages-from Grade 1-6. I see the kids she talks about, I see other kids who greet her by name, ones I have never heard of and who are older and I realize, she's getting along fine

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-74889425027990217162014-08-14T16:54:00.001-06:002014-08-14T16:54:09.917-06:00

I don't usually get involved in menial little arguments. I tend to keep myself coiled in my little bubble and keep my opinion to myself because it seems that anyone who voices how they really feel receives a lot of backlash.  When did it become okay to attack people because they have an opinion that may differ from ours? Social media (and the internet in general) has given us an outlet of

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-82256436940711506992014-08-08T16:48:00.003-06:002014-08-08T17:48:53.948-06:00

Stephen King said, “Remember that word back. That’s where the research belongs: as far in the background and the back story as you can get it.” But research is necessary for any story for authenticity sake. Especially if you're writing about a time period you have no first hand experience with. The current part of my novel that I'm plugging through takes place in 1940's Alberta. I

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-33693061956876057232014-07-14T05:00:00.000-06:002014-07-14T05:00:04.250-06:00

Literally. I've always had a fascination with volcanoes though I've never seen one up close unless you count the extinct Mount Boucherie on the west side of Kelowna, which I don't. However, in a few short days, I will stand in the spot once devastated by the biggest volcanic eruption on mainland North America on May 18, 1980 - I think you know what I'm referring to - and to say I'm excited is

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-9389149111075571792014-07-13T23:16:00.001-06:002014-07-13T23:16:14.056-06:00

It’s been roughly 15 years since I put on a bathing suit much less actually went swimming, but this past weekend I put it all behind me and jumped into the pool. I learned a lot of things from these multiple episodes of chlorine-induced fun. Things that I have forgotten in the past 15 plus years or maybe just refused to notice at the time. 1. Swimming is very much like riding a bike. Only

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-69591436296535495372014-05-27T21:36:00.000-06:002014-05-27T21:36:00.661-06:00

I am not prone to random acts of kindness. Not because I don't want to, but I just don't think about it at the time. Like on the rare occasion that someone ahead of me in the Timmy's line up buys my coffee. I don't think to pay it forward (or backward) to the person behind me. And then I kick myself later. I do hold doors for people most of the time but that's more of a proper etiquette type

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-15749364654338376012014-05-13T12:17:00.001-06:002014-05-13T12:17:37.028-06:00

I've never done a photo project. In fact, I've never set out with the idea of taking pictures of a particular thing. In this course I'm taking it's not really an assignment but more of a suggestion to create a photo project. I guess just like in writing, to keep you going. So over the past several weeks I have been collecting various photos with a project in mind. I wasn't really ready to post

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-87959040708993279222014-03-28T12:13:00.001-06:002014-03-28T12:13:23.328-06:00

It feels unimaginable. Impossible that spring could be right around the corner. It's cold. Not sub-arctic cold but still cold. And it's been snowing pretty much since the official first day of spring.  Oh lovely Calgary. How we love thee and your adolescent mood swings. People are down. Frustrated that spring can't just hurry up and get here already because quite frankly, we've had

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-1612249474035085922014-01-03T12:04:00.001-07:002014-01-03T12:04:15.500-07:00

Little specks of diamonds twinkle off the snow surrounding you with the beauty that can be winter. This was the first day of the new year, with the sun shining, walking through Fish Creek Park on the way to a nice little tobogganing hill for the little one. It's easy to get bummed out in the winter. Cloudy days, temperatures plummeting into the absurd, road travel becoming near impossible. But

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-47881681559831062014-01-02T22:27:00.000-07:002014-01-02T22:27:31.782-07:00

My first book of 2014. Quite possibly the best book I have ever read. As someone who is fascinated and mortified by the atrocities of WWII, I am always trying to glean something from any story I read about that time. Whether it's an understanding or an added loathing. I like to see the varying points of view, no matter how difficult they may be. This story certainly held many of those moments.

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-58065913958180893632014-01-01T10:44:00.002-07:002014-01-01T10:44:59.937-07:00

As I've said before, I don't do resolutions. Like most people, I don't like to fail and to set out a list of resolutions for the coming year is nothing more than setting oneself up for the inevitable. There are many things I would like to do. Some will happen, many won't. It's about picking and choosing what's more important. 2013 was full of various ups and downs. I made mistakes. Learned

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-54754217112830963202013-10-17T11:28:00.000-06:002013-10-17T11:28:01.911-06:00

As you may recall, there is a coyote wandering around our complex. When I first saw it, and told my husband, he instantly said stuff like "coyotes won't hurt you", "don't move too fast", "what are you so afraid of?" and blah, blah, blah. Well since then, a notice has gone out to all the residents about said coyote and all the things to do or not to do should you see it. And alas, this morning..

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-6791641286885261802013-10-04T12:18:00.000-06:002013-10-04T12:18:00.189-06:00

I grew up in an area of BC where wild animals were the norm. To see a bear or cougar or skunk or deer or...you get the idea, in the middle of downtown while heading to the corner store for grape bubble gum or Nerds (grape, too) was so normal we never thought twice about it. But we move to suburbia where the new normal is a person walking her cat on a leash. So you can imagine my surprise

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-63597658278907126442013-10-01T12:24:00.001-06:002013-10-01T12:24:05.885-06:00

I've noticed this odd pattern emerging, and not just with me. When I first started writing seriously again, all the stuff I wrote had some element of darkness in it. Bad things happening to good people. Something horrible happening to a child. People just generally messed up because of bad things that had happened or were happening to them. Over the years since, although I still have this

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-54204067280021763232013-09-30T10:19:00.002-06:002013-09-30T10:19:56.121-06:00

From a writerly perspective, what are you afraid of? I'm so unmotivated lately to spend the necessary time to finish a project. Sure I can finish my work related projects, or semi clean the house when I need to, but why can't I sit and focus long enough to finish my current stories or the blasted novel I've been plugging away at for the past year? My crit partner said she's afraid of getting

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-77871106780888321012013-07-29T10:49:00.002-06:002013-07-29T10:49:24.345-06:00

  Chateau Lake Louise from across the frozen lake.   Snowshoe along the lake and across to a sheer ice wall.   Enjoy the clear skies and mountains on either side.   And rest.

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1637065465638170703.post-762124739770946892013-07-27T10:30:00.000-06:002013-07-27T10:30:00.625-06:00

Named aptly because of the weird rock formation protruding from the rock face, Troll Falls is an easy 3km trail located near Kananaskis Village. Great for snowshoeing or hiking, the trail is a moderate elevation gain and the falls are worth the visit, beautiful in the winter when the water freezes to sheer ice.       Head west on Hwy 1 to Hwy 40 by

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07859084856359271026noreply@blogger.com0