stillpoint

musings from Canadian author Cheryl Cooke Harrington ... home of The Write Spot

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

once upon a silver screen...

(click for larger image)
Old photo albums are a passion of mine. Some of my favourites are those my mother kept during WWII. Alongside images of family and friends are newspaper clippings, most about my Dad's deployment with the Canadian Irish Regiment – interesting stuff, and something I plan to write about one of these days. The old newsprint is yellowed and brittle. Seventy-four years of handling by four generations of readers means a few of the articles are beginning to fall apart. 

A few weeks ago, I decided to remove the precious clippings from their albums one last time. I would scan each article for future readers and store the originals in archival envelopes, safe for posterity. That's when I discovered a treasure trove of movie ads, long forgotten on the backs of headline clippings. 

All the big stars of the '40s are there: Hedy Lamarr, Clark Gable, Ginger Rogers, Fred Astaire, Fred MacMurray, Jack Benny, Paulette Goddard, Wallace Beery, larger-than-life on the "big screen" (miniscule by today's standards) and some in colour! Movies were shorter in 1941, too. The price of a ticket might include newsreels or a documentary short as well as two feature films.


Smoking was allowed in most theatres, parking was free, and giveaways were popular, like this "absolutely free dinnerware" at The Pylon with your ticket to see Ginger Rogers in Kitty Foyle. Oh, the drama!



I recognize a few of the theatre names in the ads but most of the old buildings were lost to Toronto's development boom with two notable exceptions: The Kingsway in Etobicoke (1939-present), and the Fox Theatre in The Beaches (1914-present).


Fox Theatre, Toronto | Photo by Riccardo Cuppini
Creative Commons Licence: CC-BY-NC-2.0

The Fox is Canada's longest continuously operating theatre and happens to be just around the corner from my childhood home. Its old walls hold many fond memories of afternoon matinees with my best friend, Kate – shows like In Search of the Castaways and The Moonspinners. We'd pay for our tickets and stay for all three afternoon screenings, slouched in our seats, munching on popcorn and red licorice, and ardently girl-crushing on Hayley Mills. Good times.

So, dig out those old photo albums, people. You never know what you'll find. I'm off to track down a copy of The Moonspinners. Kate, you bring the popcorn!

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stillpoint is the blog of Canadian author Cheryl Cooke Harrington

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Wednesday, September 23, 2015

The Write Spot: Sydell Voeller


Welcome to The Write Spot, a bi-weekly author series spotlighting the many and varied places where writers write. It's my pleasure this week to welcome author Sydell Voeller.

Sydell is a Washington State native, but has lived in Oregon for over thirty-five years.  Her novels for teens and adults reflect her love for the Pacific Northwest’s ocean beaches, inlets and waterways, evergreen forests, and mountains.

When Sydell isn't writing, she enjoys camping, walking, amateur astronomy, reading, and playing scrabble. Formerly a registered nurse, Sydell now teaches writing correspondence courses sponsored by the Long Ridge Writer’s Institute. She is married with two grown sons, five adorable grandchildren, and two pampered cats.


Sydell Voeller's Write Spot


Thanks for sharing your Write Spot, Sydell. Love the cat clock! Please tell us what makes this the "Write Spot" for you.

I like to write in my own little corner of my world where I am apart from distractions and other interruptions. (Like a retired husband! LOL)

Other than your computer or laptop, what's the one thing you couldn't be without in your 'Write Spot'?


I absolutely couldn't do without my two cats, who often help as my "office assistants." They sleep on the cat ledge in the window, or in a little carpeted cubbyhole near the back of my desk. 

The youngest kitty loves to watch the sheets of paper coming through the opening in the printer whenever I'm in the process of printing.



They're both so sweet. I have a "helper" cat, too. Sometimes he's not as helpful as he thinks he is. (But we love them anyway.) 

What are you working on now?

I'm working on another sweet, contemporary romance.  The working title is Echoes of Time.

I'll watch for it. Thanks for being my guest for this sixth edition of The Write Spot, Sydell. Where can readers find out more about you and your books?

I love to connect with readers. Visit me at my web site and at the following spots online:




Sydell's young adult romance, Love on a High Wire, is available now. 

Marcie's attraction to Ivan sparked the very moment they met. But they lived in totally different worlds. She was a local high school student leading an everyday life and working after school for the local veterinarian. He was a dashing trapeze artist traveling with his circus family, and he would soon be back on tour.

Was it only a fleeting romance? A romance that would vanish the moment Ivan left town? Had he fallen for her, or would he always remain an elusive dream?

Buy the book.



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About The Write Spot:
I've always been fascinated by what goes on behind the scenes. Whether it's backstage photos from my favourite play, a peek into the kitchen where a chef is working her culinary magic, or simply a glimpse through an uncurtained window into a stranger's private world, there's an undeniable thrill of discovery, a sense of secrets shared. It's no surprise, then, that I'm immensely curious about where other writers do their work. I've blogged about it before in this post about my own 'write spot' and so enjoyed the comments, I was inspired to launch a regular feature here at stillpoint. Watch for The Write Spot every other Wednesday and join me as I discover the many and varied places where writers write.


stillpoint is the blog of Canadian author Cheryl Cooke Harrington.

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Wednesday, September 16, 2015

little house of horrors...

Last month on one of my afternoon rambles I ventured into the conservatory at Centennial Park in Etobicoke. It's one of my favourite Toronto destinations, especially on gloomy days when I can imagine myself lost in some lush, tropical jungle complete with towering palms, exotic birds, and colourful fish.

The glasshouse has three distinct sections. In the central and largest room live the tropical palms and pomegranates, banana trees, orchids, hibiscus, and myriad other visitors from warmer climes, including Angel, the resident Australian Cockatoo.


Palms and Tropicals

Goldfish in the Pond

Phalaenopsis Orchids

Angel the Cockatoo - Official Greeter

To the north, is an ever-changing garden room where visitors are treated to whimsical displays celebrating the changing seasons.


Easter Egg Tree

Spring Blooms

Christmas Pageant

The southern house is home to a glorious desert habitat, teeming with other-worldly silhouettes; strange beings armed with threatening spines and thorns. Unexpected blooms surprise and delight – everything from tiny, perfect petals on prickly Euphorbia splendens, to flashy spikes of crimson and yellow on the giant Aloe vera.


A Prickly Situation

Euphorbia splendens (Crown of Thorns)

Aloe vera in bloom

But on that cloudy August afternoon, I encountered something very peculiar indeed among the cacti and succulents… a tangle of lumps and bumps spreading tentacle-like, stretching ever closer to the door as if plotting escape. And from the tip of one of those tentacles sprouted two long, smooth stalks with massive flower buds – so heavy they couldn't stand erect. I swear they seemed to grow even larger while I stared in fascination. I even began to imagine they were staring right back at me like Audrey II, that infamous person-eater in Little Shop of Horrors. Could this little monster be Audrey III?


Is it just me, or can you imagine those puckery lines as a mouth?

I'm almost certain I saw the largest bloom shudder ever so slightly as I inched closer to aim my camera. It seemed to swell, like a pale, fleshy balloon. (It couldn't be breathing, could it?) Thankfully, Audrey didn't object to being photographed and I escaped unscathed into the tropical house where I tried but failed to find someone who might answer my questions about the sinister plant. My imagination took over. What if, just like the hapless victims in Little Shop, the missing greenhouse staff had all been devoured by the very thing consigned to their care?

Safely home, I searched the web for some hint of what the creepy creeping cactus might be. No luck. I would have to go back. And so, armed with my camera (to document potential horrors), and wearing running shoes (just in case), I returned the next morning to investigate.

The doors to the hothouse were closed when I arrived. I peered through the window. No sign of human life. When I eased the door open and stepped through, I found Audrey III still lounging on her brick wall.



She looked almost regal, I thought, but quite a lot puffier than she'd been the day before. That's when I noticed another of her kind peeking out from behind a rock. Closer inspection revealed another… and another. Audrey had a posse. I backed slowly away.





Rounding a corner in the tropical house I happened upon a lanky man in dusty blue overalls, grooming the Phalaenopsis. I was in luck. I'd found one of the conservatory's horticulturalists. He brushed wisps of fine, sandy hair away from his face as he stooped to peer at Audrey III's image on my camera display. 

"Ah!" he said, in a softly accented voice. "Stapelia. He sounded it out, "Sta-pee-lee-ahh. Come, I tell you." And he led me back to the hothouse to examine Audrey again. 

"You come tomorrow," he said, pointing at the largest of Audrey's flower buds. "This bloom will open. See how it…" He paused to think and made an extravagant gesture with both hands. "It looks inflated, yes? And here" he pointed at the lines I'd imagined as Audrey's mouth, "see how she starts to darken and pucker? You come again tomorrow."


Not only a mouth. Now Audrey III seems to be forming eyes!

When I thanked him for his time, the man pinched his nose and grinned. "It will be kind of… stinky."

Suddenly, the light dawned. Audrey III might not be a person-eater, but there was definitely something uniquely horrible about her. Stapelia gigantea (toad plant or carrion plant) is a cunning trickster. It needs lots and lots of flies to ensure pollination and attracts them by emitting a foul, rotting corpse smell. Stinky indeed! I vowed to return the next day to witness Audrey in all her putrid, full-blooming glory.


Day Three: Audrey curls her lip, ready to bloom.


Day Four: Stapelia gigantea

Stapelia, aka toad plant or carrion plant in full, stinky bloom. 

In fact, I returned three times before Audrey's bloom opened wide. I guess she was waiting for a perfect sunny day to make her début. Lanky-man was right. Stinky! The neighbourhood flies were much impressed. I decided against a return visit. If Audrey makes that much stink on her own, imagine the stench when her friends join the fly-baiting fun!


stillpoint is the blog of Canadian author Cheryl Cooke Harrington

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Wednesday, September 09, 2015

The Write Spot: Author Karen McCullough


Welcome to the fifth edition of The Write Spot, a bi-weekly author series spotlighting the many and varied places where writers write. This week, I'm delighted to welcome award-winning author Karen McCullough.

Author Karen McCullough
Karen tells me she's been writing for close to thirty years but her wide-ranging imagination won't let her stick to one genre for her storytelling. As a result, she’s the author of more than a dozen published novels and novellas, which span the mystery, fantasy, paranormal, and romantic suspense genres. 

Karen was born in New York and spent her early years in the Long Island suburbs before moving to the Boston area with her family. She travelled south to attend Duke University in Durham, North Carolina, where she met her husband and graduated with a degree in Spanish and Anthropology. 

She worked as  a social worker, computer programmer, and editor with an international trade publishing company before finding her bliss writing fiction. Karen lives in Greensboro, North Carolina and has three children and four wonderful grandchildren.


Karen McCullough's Write Spot

Karen McCullough's Write Spot


Looks like a perfect spot for writerly focus, Karen. I'm intrigued by your big blue balance ball. I've often thought of getting one but, knowing me, I'd be constantly tipping over! Please tell us what makes this the Write Spot for you.

Ten years ago, when we did a major renovation of our home, we adapted an old attached garage to be my office, and a recessed corner (which our main builder referred to as 'the nooch') was the obvious place for my computer desk. With pictures of family members looking down and a few special animals for inspiration, this area just works for me.

I do have a regular chair, but most of the time I use the balance ball instead. It gives me a bit of extra exercise, particularly for strengthening my core, and it seems to help keep my bad knees from locking up quite as much. I had to try a couple of balls to find one that was the exact right height, but it really works well as a seat. I thought I'd be tipping over all the time, too, but it doesn't happen. However, it does tend to roll away whenever I stand up!

Other than your computer or laptop, what's the one thing you couldn't be without in your 'nooch' / Write Spot?

A cup of coffee. I run on coffee.

I hear you. Nothing gets done without the coffee! What are you working on now?

I've recently turned in the sequel to A Gift for Murder, in the Market Center Mysteries series, tentatively titled Wired for Murder, and another romantic suspense to Kensington/Lyrical, so right now I'm doing a novella in the Market Center Mysteries series.

Where can readers find out more about you and your books?

Readers can visit me at kmccullough.com and connect at the following social media sites:



Karen's romantic suspense, A Question of Fire, is available now. Get it here

Cover: A Question of Fire by Karen McCullough
When Catherine Bennett agrees to attend an important party as a favor for her boss, she knows she won't enjoy it, but she doesn't expect to end up holding a dying man in her arms and becoming the recipient of his last message. Bobby Stark has evidence that will prove his younger brother has been framed for arson and murder. He wants that evidence to get to his brother's lawyer, and he tries to tell Cathy where he's hidden it. Unfortunately, he can only manage to give her a cryptic piece of the location before he dies.

The man who killed Bobby saw him talking to her and assumes she knows where the evidence is hidden. He wants it back and he'll do whatever it takes to get it, including following her and trying to kidnap her.

Cathy enlists the aid of attorney Peter Lowell and Danny Stark, Bobby's prickly, difficult younger brother, as well as a handsome private detective to help her find the evidence before the killers do.

Read a chapter excerpt and access additional purchase links for A Question of Fire on Karen's web site.



About The Write Spot:
I've always been fascinated by what goes on behind the scenes. Whether it's backstage photos from my favourite play, a peek into the kitchen where a chef is working her culinary magic, or simply a glimpse through an uncurtained window into a stranger's private world, there's an undeniable thrill of discovery, a sense of secrets shared. It's no surprise, then, that I'm immensely curious about where other writers do their work. I've blogged about it before in this post about my own 'write spot' and so enjoyed the comments, I was inspired to launch a regular feature here at Stillpoint. Watch for The Write Spot every other Wednesday and join me as I discover the many and varied places where writers write.


Stillpoint is the blog of Canadian author Cheryl Cooke Harrington.

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Wednesday, September 02, 2015

on joyfulness...

For the last few years I've started each day with a written Metta meditation. There are times when it's a struggle, when the day's expectations loom large or the morning is dark, snowy, and cold. But my notebook draws me in. Each fresh page with its twenty-three neat ruled lines gives me focus. And I begin…

May I be healthy and strong.
May I be safe and protected.
May I be peaceful…

I write on, filling one page of my notebook each day in a seven day cycle. On day two I write for my home and my family, on day three for my neighbourhood, then my city, country, planet Earth, and finally the entire Universe and all planes of existence.




In the early days of my practice, there were often a few free lines left at the bottom of the page but now my words almost always spill into the margins. I like this new exuberance, this breaking free. And I've discovered something about oft-repeated written words. For me, they begin to look and feel like their meanings. I savour each word as it flows from my pen. And the best word of all? Joyful. The rush of lightness in its loops and curls gives me an almost physical jolt of pleasure. I sometimes find myself anticipating joyful when I should be concentrating on another sentence. This concerns me a bit. In meditation, we're supposed to let go, cease grasping, release worldly thoughts, and simply be. And yet, what better way to start each day than with an abiding sense of wonder and joy?



When I thought about how to express this feeling, I began looking through my photo library and came up with a few images that, for me, perfectly define joyfulness.

Peace and Joy
(Quiet and still, beauty in nature.)

Reflected Joy
(
Sunlight sparkles on water, reflects on feathers
and, oh, those adorable orange feet!)

Boundless Joy
(My grandchildren at play.)


Thank you for reading and may you find your perfect joy.



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