About Alyx Dellamonica

After twenty-two years in Vancouver, B.C., I've recently moved to Toronto Ontario, where I make my living writing science fiction and fantasy; I also review books and teach writing online at UCLA. I'm a legally married lesbian, a coffee snob, and I wake up at an appallingly early hour.

Bursting with me, me, more me…

Indigo Springs

Indigo Springs

It’s possible you’ve noticed that over at Favorite Thing Ever, we really make a point of being partial. Hugely partial. Don’t believe me? Well, my “review” post this morning is on my very own wonderful first novel, Indigo Springs.

Pretty brassy, right? Well, let me go on to correct what I’ve said above by being even more shameless! How is that possible, you ask? Because things have happened. I’m not just on about Oh, that, my first novel yadda yadda snore Indigo Springs, anymore, as I am about my OMG, holy Carp, I can’t believe it’s true but I have been honored with the Sunburst Award for Canadian Literature of the Fantastic, Eeee! first novel. (still entitled Indigo Springs).

Cough. So, yes. I’d written the FtE entry quite a few days ago, to drive home the idea that we seriously are a site of shameless squee. The Sunburst folks contacted me on Saturday, and asked me to keep it quiet until they sent out press releases. I’ve been on a cloud ever since. Now, finally, I get to tell you.

(I feel I should be humble and grateful at this juncture, and I am very grateful and totally thrilled… but humility kinda goes against the shameless squeeing vein.)

My book. It’s my first baby. Really, really, it is my fave thing ever… at least until the next one comes out.

Into the ravine

Thursday’s word count: 1078. Friday’s: 970. Total now, 19158.

Kelly and I recently learned that there’s a ravine in east Vancouver, not far from the Italian Cultural Center. We went exploring and found ourselves plunging down a steep and slippery trail into a mildly smelly, litter-strewn hole in the earth. There’s a creek down there, and a trail, and about five bazillion spiders. (The spiders are having a good year, and there will be many photos of them quite soon.)

This doesn’t communicate how far down and middle-of-nowhere it felt–even though it’s actually quite small and right in the heart of the city, but we felt very off-road when we got to the bottom.

Renfrew Ravine

I am planning to leave a fictional body down here within the week.

Crunching bones, and words

Speaking of Sue, this is my sister’s adorable new puppy, Sophy, who is very very active and cannot sit still even if you feed her part of your own body.

Sophy

Speaking, sort of, of movement–I’m up to 17,110 words now on THE RAIN GARDEN. I won’t give you the day-by-day, blow-by-blow but essentially I’m trudging through the middle act now, still at 800-1200 words a day. It’s that click click click up the rollercoaster, pause… phase. I’m thinking to hit the plunge to the end soonish.

Attempting to be Sue

One of my sisters is the sort of person who can go to Istanbul, head for the bar where she has arranged to meet some friends, and then get there only to discover they aren’t there because she forgot about the International Date Line (silly International Date Line!) and is 24 hours late. Sure, you’re thinking, anyone could do that! But this sib’s particular enviable superpower is to walk a block, look around the neighborhood, choose another bar, walk in and find the friends happily sitting there. No harm, no foul–in fact, much rejoicing.

I planned to find the Walk for Life through the same kind of jovial reckoning on Sunday. I set out in plenty of time, and was even on the train with a fellow choir buddy. But I had my mind on other things, and I lost sight of her. I ended up on the wrong side of the park, and by the time I got through to Badger to ask for directions and apologize, I was kilometers away. Like almost eight kilometers away, according to the GMaps pedometer.

So… no singing for me. It was a glorious walk. I saw oodles of purple sea stars, and an especially gorgeous heron. (I didn’t have my camera with me, but here’s his stunt-double.)

Stanley Park - Heron

I guess you could say I managed the cheery laissez faire tardiness, but not so much the part where I stumble in, on time, for our next concert a day later. (I also bruised the tops of my toes because I was wearing singing shoes, not walking shoes, and I had doubled up my socks because I was afraid of being cold. How’s that for a neat trick?)