Those of you who know me personally, know how much I have been wanting to see the musical Hamilton​ live on stage. I mean, it's gotten to the point that it probably annoys them how much I've been talking about it. I realize that, and to the people in my life, I am sincerely sorry about that. (But I am not sorry enough to stop.)

​I have been trying to get tickets for this show for probably a year now. It has been frustrating, and I still firmly believe that Ticketmaster needs to do better to curb the legal scalping they are allowing by not capping the fan to fan resale prices. You people are not fans if you are asking for over $1,000.00 for a ticket you paid $199.00 for! Really!

​In April, the moment the Tonys ended, my husband and I ran to our computers and we tried to get tickets for Hamilton ​from the new block of tickets that had just gone on sale. As we clicked pairs of tickets, they were bought out right under our noses. Show after show became sold out. Nothing in January, February, March, April, May, in 2017. I wanted to cry. Then I got a Facebook message from a friend of mine. "Try September," she wrote. I laughed. It seemed impossible. But I looked. There were two tickets for a show in September, being offered at face value, from the venue. I bought them. September 15, I had tickets to Hamilton!

​My husband and I planned a road trip, secured childcare, a place for the dog, and we packed. We would be staying with my brother Brian, and his fiancée Dayna. It was all set! September 14, I picked up the kids from school, had dinner, and we packed the car. We would drive the four hours to Syracuse that night, and we would stop at a hotel. The next day, we could get up early and drive the other four and a half hours. Plenty of time to get there for a 7:00 show. It would be easy!

​Now, Brian and Dayna had just moved to a new place, and my mom had asked me to help out by taking them some of their engagement presents. We are talking about crazy things to take over the border. I am talking about dishes, towels, a couple of coffee table books about Barbra Streisand. Maybe a cheese board or two were in the boxes we packed into my trunk. We got to the border making good time, and stopped at the duty free for a quick bathroom break. We would make Syracuse in a few hours, and all would be well. I was happy, and excited. We waited our turn for the agent at the border, and handed him our passports.

​"Business or pleasure?"

​"Pleasure."

"What will you be doing in New York?"

"Visiting family."

"Are you bringing anything with you?"

​I suppose at this time, we could have said no. But we didn't. We told him we were bringing my brother his dishes and towels for his new place. I emphasized that they were his. We weren't bringing goods or anything like that.

​"Open your trunk."

​We did. He saw the piles of boxes, all neatly labeled with my mom's address from when they were shipped to her off of their registry. He shut our trunk and directed us to the customs office where we were locked in a room and questioned about my brother and his status in the states. I answered their questions to the best of my ability.

"Ma'am, why don't you have a form 3299?"

"What is that?"

"Third party goods."

"No one told me I needed it?"

​They were annoyed. I was annoyed. It was 1:00 in the morning. They tried to find my brother in the system, and decided he didn't exist. After an hour in that room, they told us we had to turn around and go back into Canada. We could not enter the U.S.A. However, if we wanted to get rid of my brother's stuff, we could come right back.

​Brian and I entered Canada again (paying the $3.00 toll) and pulled back into the duty free parking lot to look at our options. I called my mom, and told her what had happened. Our phone call ended with me saying the following:

"If I miss Hamilton ​because of my brother's f*cking dishes, I am not speaking to any of you ever again!"

Suffice it to say, this was not my proudest moment.

​Then my husband had an idea. I have a cousin who has a home in Niagara On The Lake. This was a half hour away, as opposed to the two hour drive back to our house. If they were there, we could still make the show. I called my mom back for my cousin's number, and said it was that or I toss the stuff. She was not happy with me. My mom called my cousin, and my cousin called me. She was not in Niagara, but she had a back deck where we could put everything. I hoped, for my brother's sake, that it would not rain.

​Now, at this point we realized that there was no way out of the duty free that did not involve crossing the border. This was the thing we were still not allowed to do, due to the boxes still in our trunk. Brian went into the store and asked where to go. We cut past the U.S. border and went back through the toll booth onto the highway once more. (Another $3.00)

​We drove to Niagara, and my husband and I commenced breaking into my cousin's backyard, armed with our cell phone flashlights to hide my brother's boxes under the table we found on the deck. My fears at this point were threefold:

​1. Skunks.
​2. The neighbours would see us and call the police, thinking we were burglars.
3. The time. Would I make ​Hamilton? We were so far behind schedule!

We ditched the boxes without incident and continued on our way. The agents let us through into the U.S. without incident at this time, and we grabbed a quick bite to eat at a Denny's, and drove for as long as possible, stopping for rest periods, and making Syracuse at 6:30 in the morning. Here we had two choices, drive on exhausted and sleep deprived, or stop and nap at a hotel. I was a bit panicky. Napping meant time. However, driving while on the brink of exhaustion is not safe, so we stopped.

​We left after noon, and consulted our maps. We were due to arrive in New York at around 5:00. I kept telling myself that two hours was plenty of time to make a show. We would be fine, but as we took a few stops to grab a sandwich, pee, get gas, that time kept creeping upwards. 5:00 turned into 5:30, then 5:40, then back down to 5:38. I was getting nervous.

We finally made it into the city at 5:40. My brother had told us there was a parking lot next door to his new building. We pulled in and were told "We're full. Try down the block."

​We dumped our stuff in my brother's lobby and went down the street. Luckily the next place had room. We ran back to my brother's apartment and changed out of our sweaty shirts. (You don't see Hamilton stinking like a locker room.) We then ran outside and started towards the theater. It was over twenty blocks away. We grabbed a cab, and I started to pray.

​At just after 6:40 we got to the corner of 45th and 8th. I could see the theatre. We were going to make it! Then, Brian turns to me.

"I am not eating a cookie for dinner."

I gave him a blank stare.

"There's a Pret a Manger right there. Let's grab a sandwich."

​I follow him in and grab a banana and a half sandwich package. I can eat this quickly, I reason. Besides, the bathroom here won't have a line. I'm sure the Richard Rogers is full of people waiting to pee. I eat as quickly as possible, and we're off. I enter the theatre, and I can't believe we made it! I slide into my seat at 6:55. Then I start to worry.

I have listened to the soundtrack, so many times I have it memorized. How can the ​Hamilton on stage possibly live up to the Hamilton ​in my head? What if I've overhyped it? What if I'm surrounded by HamilFans and they... sing along​? That would be too awful. I remember what it was like when I saw Rent​. It was so obnoxious. I wanted to hear the people on stage. Not the off key people behind me. Ugh.

​But, just as I was freaking out, the lights went down, and the show started. All my worries were swept aside. It was better than I had hoped. Finally there was something that lived up to the hype. There is just something about live theatre that is simply magical; and that was what I saw on that stage: magic. The language was astonishing, the script is indescribable in how Lin-Manuel Miranda works with language to tell a story. I have seen so many shows where I see places where I would change things, make something less cliché, tweak something to add humour, or tension, lines that don't sit right for me. But here, I wouldn't change a word.

​I left that theatre inspired. I was inspired to do better; to write better. I left full of ideas, and a drive to create more. Those performers gave their all, and I was floored. By the end of it, I was a sobbing mess. It was just incredible. My one quibble: I wish it hadn't been so damn hard to get there!

So many things to report! Where do I begin? Well, I suppose that you have all noticed that the cover images and buy links have disappeared from all of my Hadariah books, as well as Bath Salts. This is not a glitch. There is a very good reason for this, and that is that all of the books will now be published by the amazing people at PANDAMOON! That's right, we will be having some rereleases soon, and An Tran is now an official Panda! I have the press release announcing this and everything. Exciting times are here! (And I am overusing my exclamation points. But I am just so excited!)

This past weekend was also Toronto FanExpo, and yes, I am still unhappy by the destruction of authors' alley. I had so many people come to me complaining that the author's were all scattered around both buildings with no rhyme or reason to it. It was frustrating to see that there were no literary guests other than Margaret Atwood (who is great), while in past years, there were around a dozen of us. The past few years also saw the deletion of the literary panels as well. This has been sad to see. There used to be panels on world building, character development, and on publishing fantasy and SF. Now, the emphasis is on the stars, and the cosplay. I understand the appeal of the actors, (I met Jewel Staite and she has my book!) and I love looking at the costumes and the creativity that goes on. But after a few days to think and to decompress, I feel jaded. Writers are the ones who tell the stories, and who put those words in the actors' mouths. Without the storytellers, there would be no stories. There would be no shows on TV, or movies to watch. I'm not saying that I should have been an invited guest. I am far less famous than the majority of the people who get invited to these things. However, I just wish that the writers got more love. So many people came to our little table and asked us about our writing, about how they wanted to do what we do, how they too create stories of their own. Imagine how amazing it would have been to have had panels for these people; where they could have an open forum to discuss these things with professional authors. This is what FanExpo used to be; what they used to have. It saddens me to see it tossed aside. And for what? I'm not sure. I wish I knew.

But on to happy and exciting news once more! This past summer, I was asked to collaborate on an extremely important project. For orientation, York University commissioned myself, Kristen DaSilva, and Katie Edwards to write a play outlining all the issues with regards to sex and consent. This play became There Is No Maybe. In it, we wrote out different scenes and monologues teaching students through the magic of theatre, all about how important it is to get enthusiastic consent from one's partner, and about how you can help and intervene if you see an assault occurring. These days, when people like Brock Turner roam free, and where it seems as if you can't go anywhere without hearing about rape culture, or victim blaming, it seems as if we need more ways to reach students, and to teach them that they can make a change.

Last night, There Is No Maybe had its premiere at York University in front of over 6,200 students. I was there watching, and to say that I was nervous is an understatement. I felt as if this was one of the most important things I have ever worked on, and I wanted it to be perfect. The show started, and I heard the first reactions, and it was glorious. The students cheered at the right moments, they laughed when appropriate, and there were moments where you could hear a pin drop. They were listening, and they were absorbing our message. I was stunned. I have never felt more proud. I can't thank the administration enough for giving me this opportunity, and I couldn't have asked for a better writing team. Kristen and Katie were brilliant to work with, and our director Theresa Noon-Hunter made our words soar. More schools should implement works like this into their frosh weeks. If only to encourage students to intervene on others' behalf. We need more conscious discussion. We need to change.

So this past weekend was the Pirate Festival! This has always been one of my favourite weekends of the summer. It's like summer camp, where I get to dress like a pirate in a big dirty field, drink cider, and listen to some of my favourite musicians. An and I love seeing all our crazy pirate friends, and it's as if no time has passed every time I see them, not to mention all the new friends we make each and every year. For example, this year I met Sam from Cake's Cove (site linked in the pics below). I think I gained several pounds this weekend off of her cupcakes alone. Also, I need to have another wedding, just so I can have an excuse to order that crazy cake! Just look at it!

This year was also our first year in our new location at Guelph's Marden Park. I was wondering about what would be different, and what would be the same. Up until now, we had always been in Milton. Who would be with us this year? Who would be missing? Would we have the same shows, vendors, food? But everything was great, and the new management handled it all. It's never easy having so much change over, but it all felt very smooth. 

Also new this year was our tent mate Sarah WaterRaven. She was a most welcome addition to our crew, and is the author of the awesome Detective Docherty series. I have had a lot of people ask me how I can share a tent or table with another author. Isn't there conflict? Aren't you worried about competition? Sarah and I had some great conversations about it. We both agreed that when it comes to writing, there is always room for more stories in the world. Every book has an audience, and we shouldn't see each others as competition. I have been very fortunate in finding a great group of writing friends here in Toronto, and we view each other as a kind of literary family, supporting one another, and helping each other out when and where we can. It's been fantastic, and as the community is small, it's what we should do. One of the pirates said to me that she views our festival crew the same way, and I heartily agree. We celebrate each others milestones: births, marriages, birthdays, engagements. And when one of us is brought low, we feel it in much the same way. As such, I have no problem sharing my tent with another artist, and Sarah fit right in with or kooky band of cosplayers. An heartily agreed. 

​And now that that sappy sentiment was shared... Some pics for all!

Oh, and Sarah, sorry again about Captain Dark Water's idea of dinner entertainment. Thanks to you though, I will forever remember the origin of the phrase "the cat's out of the bag". But don't worry, what happens at Pirate Festival, stays at Pirate Festival (and my blog). See you in a few weeks partner!

Things have been absolutely hectic here. I have been hard at work on multiple projects, and I have also been hard at work with the kids. They finished a very successful first year at school as junior kindergarten students, and they absolutely loved it. It's a great feeling to have your kids wake up happy and excited to go to school and to learn. (I know that this will not last. When do kids start going to school begrudgingly instead of with a spring to their step? Grade three? Four? I hope not sooner.) Now they are at camp, and I have to say, I love my kids, and I want to be the best parent I can be. But really, theme days? One day's notice? Come on! If it's not Colour War, it's Safari Day, or Beach Day. Ugh. I remember loving these days as a kid, and being so excited for them. But as a parent, they are absolutely the worst!

I was told yesterday by our bus counsellor that today would be Safari Day. I had also had an email from the camp about this (thank god it was more than one day in advance.) and I was thinking "Okay Ali, we have a lion costume, and we have a dinosaur costume. I know there are no dinosaurs on safari, so that can work. But crap! I have three kids! I need another animal. Ummm... they were bearcats for their dance recital. Hailey can be a bearcat! Yes!" So, with this plan in mind, I was set. Until the kids came home.

Hailey: Mommy! I have Safari Day tomorrow!

Me: Yes, and you can be a bearcat! That will be so cute! You also won't overheat at camp!

Hailey: Noooooooo! I want to be a sloth!

Me: Sloth? (Damnit!) Okay? A sloth has the same shaped ears as a bearcat. Wear those and...

Hailey: Paint my face like the ones in Zootopia!

Me:...

Phillip: I'm going to be a monkey!

Me:... 

Phillip: Paint my face like a monkey!

Me: Monkey ears look like bearcat ears! I'll tie this belt around your waist backwards and you have a tail! (Nailed it!)

Joseph: I'm a lion!

Me: I love you.

So, this morning was a flurry of chaos, eyeshadow, and bearcat ears. And then it's time to plan for Beach Day. I wonder if I can Macgyver some leis and stuff. Can one build a surfboard out of duct tape? Ugh. Screw it. I'm sending them in their swim suits and nothing else. Lazy mom for the win!  

At least with Colour War all I had to do was send them all in red shirts. (Insert Star Trek joke.)

The Blue Team handed their butts to them. 

It's hard enough sending three five year olds off to camp with two swimsuits, extra sunscreen, Hailey's epipen fannypack (for bees), lunch (all nut free), hats (continuously missing, lost, messed up), flipflops, shoes on their feet, etc. Now I have to do it colour coded and with them in animal costumes. Oy. 

I guess I can say that their happy sunny faces make it all worth it, but, really, it's exhausting. Can't a camp day be a camp day? I thought I was on summer vacation. 

This weekend was my tenth anniversary. It seems a bit surreal to think that I have been married that long. It feels like it was yesterday that Brian and I got married. After ten years of marriage, one dog, and three children (all born at once!) ten years passed by in a bit of a blur. 

It's kind of funny to be celebrating my tenth anniversary the same year that my baby brother got engaged. To me, he's still the little baby boy who loved to crawl into my lap and listen to stories about Sitnalta and Najort. Weird.

Now, I tell the stories to my kids. They're still a bit young for the novels, but I can certainly make up stories for them and I definitely do. Their imaginations never cease to amaze me. It is endless entertainment watching them as they play with one another, and the adventures they create for themselves are a source of inspiration for me. 

Currently, I am working on writing the first draft of the sixth book in The Sitnalta Series. Right now, it's currently called The Wizard's Apprentice, but like all books and all titles I come up with, it is subject to change if anything changes in the book. I really don't like naming books. 

I'm also putting the finishing touches on Sibling Revelry. I have all the music for the first episode, written by Anthony Bastianon and Brett McCaig. Now, we search for the best possible home for it!

Tomorrow is the first of June, and I will be sending out the first edition of my new newsletter. I will also be doing a give away to go along with it, so be sure and sign up for your chance to win great stuff!

So today was both weird and amazing. It was weird because I returned to my old elementary school. It has been years since I'd been in that building. I was there as an author scheduled to give a talk to their grade seven students, and it felt a little bit strange to be walking through those halls with a student escorting me to the library. Truth behold, I remembered where it was, and I didn't need the help! But it was amazing to be able to be there in the capacity of a guest speaker. The Leo Baeck Day School was the first place where I was given the first inkling that I could actually write, and write well. It was my English teachers that encouraged me to keep writing, and to keep telling stories, and to have a couple of them sit in and listen to me speak to their students was almost surreal. Over the course of the day, I gave two talks, one at their southern campus, and one at their northern one. It felt very apt that I gave the talks to the grade seven students. While it is true that the main reason that I wrote Sitnalta was for my brother, what I haven't mentioned was that I turned it in as a creative writing assignments for my grade seven English teacher! (I got an A+, and he asked if he could keep a copy of the story!) When I told the students that, they were shocked. It just goes to show you that you should be a pack rat like me! You never know when an old school assignment will come in handy, for either inspiration, or just for a laugh or two.

I did two readings for them and then I ended up speaking to them about was how I typically go from an idea, or a moment of inspiration, to completing a novel. Then I talked a bit about how the publisher takes that novel through the editing stages, cover art, and finally publication. I showed them the maps I've drawn of both Colonodona and its neighbouring kingdoms, Hadariah, my notebooks of character biographies, chapter notes, and ideas, as well as samples of cover art so they could see how things change from one draft to another. From there, we had a question period, and I loved being able to have a lively discussion with them all. 

The day left me feeling filled with energy and I left grinning. So many of them seem like voracious readers, and hearing that I started writing the character of Sitnalta at their age seemed to intrigue them. Already, they were telling me that they were writing as well. I told them not to wait twenty years before finishing what they started. Keep writing. Write everyday if you can. I hope they take my advice.

This week, I will be appearing at Ad Astra as both a panelist and at a table with my books. Last year was my first time at Ad Astra, and I loved all the literary talk I was able to partake in, as well as all the fun people I was able to meet and hang out with. I love the local community of writers around here. As with last year, this year, Ad Astra and Passover overlap a bit. This means that my food options at the con will be limited (to say the least). But all this means to me is that I just have to be creative.

This year, my husband and I also hosted our first seder. Usually we spend one night at my parents' house, and one night at his. However, this year we moved the second seder to our place. One of the things that we decided to do was to find the perfect haggadah for our seder. Pretty much every seder  we have been to has used this one:

It's become tradition to use this book at our family seders, and the notion of using anything but seemed odd at first, but words are very important to me, and I wanted something inclusive, something that had all the songs, and something that could speak to everyone at our home. 
We also wanted one that wouldn't lose the kids, and that they could also grow with. For us, to have our whole family be a part of the seder was very important. And so, we went to the store to audition various books. After all, this book would set the tone for the evening and for subsequent evenings we would have. It took us the better part of the day to go through these books. What we wanted: all the songs, every prayer intact, language that spoke to us, the actual story of Passover (it's surprising how many haggadot did not have this), and it must look good. Brian wanted pictures.

​We looked at book after book after book. After a while, we finally settled on this one:

The funny thing was, we looked at this one, and the original one side by side and this one left nothing out. It followed the exact order of the seder as it should be, but it does it in a way that doesn't bog the evening down in what we felt was esoteric commentary. And what was great was that the kids had a lovely time with us. They were a part of everything. Now, as they can't read yet, we didn't give them the same book. As a little gift for them, we gave them these:

They love all things Sammy Spider. And while they gleefully sang the order of the seder, the four questions and (in Joseph's case howled) Dayenu, they got to look at the familiar cut out art of Sammy telling the story of Passover and telling everyone everything they've learned about the holiday. All in all, it was a perfect evening for us. And now, it's been a great week of matzah and fun, followed by what is going to be a great convention. See you at the Richmond Hill Sheraton!

Ever since I was a young child, cartoons have always fascinated me. Frankly, I think that most people can say that. At least, all the people I know can definitely say that. Aside from writing, one of the things I always wanted to be was a cartoon character. Now, I know that it's impossible to magically animate one's self and live life as a drawing like in that god awful film Cool World.

But I could definitely learn how to become a voice over artist. My time in theatre had taught me how to project, I have taken singing lessons and had a vocal coach for a while. My roles in theatre had leaned towards character parts, and I've played things from a young dying girl to a prepubescent boy. Most of these things involved me changing my voice in some way, and I found that I loved doing that. Fast forward a few years, and I have taken a break from performing. (Having triplets will do that to a person!) And yet, I'm still putting my voice to use. Anyone with kids will understand that story time isn't so much reading a book to young children. It's performing it. And if I don't give each character the attention they deserve... The audience I have at home make Waldorff and Statler look kind.

Lately, I've decided that I'm going to finally follow my dreams, and one of them was to learn how to be a voice over artist. Now, I don't believe in doing anything without at first finding out how to do it properly, so I asked the friends I have in the business how they started. (Always a good place to start.) They sent me to Melissa Altro, a voice coach. I very quickly learned that there is more to this than meets the eye. I did some training with her, and I did one of her workshops where I got to play in a sound booth, and I very quickly learned that this was something I loved doing. I worked on my strengths as a performer- which leans towards younger characters, moms, and quirky sounds. I learned about sound play, and how to do sound effects with my voice (exertions, puking, falls, fights, etc.), and then I started working on the scripts for my demo.

As a writer, I thought that this would be the easy part. I could easily write up a bunch of mini scenes I could play and boom! I'd have a demo. Not so much. I wrote too much. Where I should have done moments to play, I wrote actual scene work, more like mini monologues. Thank god Melissa helped me out so I could fix it all up. We worked it all out, and the end result had me in a sound booth, headphones on, facing the mic, with my three kids in the control booth watching their mom be a troll, puppy, mother, teen space hero, and nervous little girlie. I think watching their reactions helped me see that I was on the right track. If they were laughing and smiling, I had to be doing something right.

Now, I have my demo, (which can be heard here on soundcloud, or through the youtube link below) and just like with writing, it's about getting this recording into the right hands. Whose those will be, I have yet to find out, but I know I've taken my first steps towards something awesome.

Lots happening guys! This is the time of year when I start gearing up for the cons and fairs I do, as well as Passover. So, it's definitely busy season. What do I have coming up? Well, Ad Astra is first, coming next month. There I will be doing panels, and I will also have a table in the dealers' room. This is something I did not have last year. Hopefully I'll be able to be on panels with Sarah WaterRaven and Jen Frankel. It's always a blast to chat with them. Also, read their stuff. It's fantastic! Then, I have Montreal Comic Con, and Niagara Falls Comic Con coming up. This year is the first year that I'm actually traveling to these things, and I am both excited and nervous about it. Maybe I can convince some people to join me and we'll make a road trip out of it... I'll make a play list! (Although, that might send people screaming from my car instead.)

However, next month is Purim, so Passover planning is a bit on the backburner. I asked my kids what they were going to dress as for the holiday, and they told me that they just wanted to dress as someone "cool". What counts as cool to a five year old? I have no idea. That seems to change on a daily basis. Two days ago, cool was Nightcrawler, Chewbacca, and a Pony. The only thing I know for sure is that they want me to be Deadpool in a dress.

We shall see what happens.

In other news, I have two WIPs going on right now. I have written out the plan for Book 6 of the Sitnalta series. If you had asked me when the first book was written if I'd have gone this far with it, I would have laughed. What had initially started as a short story for my baby brother has turned into this world that I adore writing. The other book I'm working on right now is a book that my daughter asked me to write. She wanted a story about a little girl and the old woman in her closet. Now, this sounds a bit creepy, and the origin of the idea is. She and her brothers are convinced that there is an old woman living in their closet. I don't think that this old woman is a bad one, and they seem more amused by the thought than anything. In fact, Phillip says that she's rather like the old woman in the beginning of the Beauty and the Beast movie. And so, I'm writing them a ghost story. Why not?

Now, if you've been following me on Twitter or Facebook, you would have seen that I was recently interviewed by The Mindsoak Podcast. I have also been alerted that the episode is now available on iTunes. This interview was a blast for me. I love it when these things feel conversational as opposed to being merely a question and answer period. Things flow so much better for me that way. (Which is the total opposite of this disjointed blog post.) Check it out here if you can.

Speaking of disjointed posts, (how's that for a segue!) I'm also hard at work on my television series! I'm telling you, Sibling Revelry is a blast to write. I've recently heard a draft of one of the songs for it, and I am so excited! Now, I saw that Costco (yes, the superstore) stole my title for an article. And since I do love The Property Brothers I will let it slide. :P (why can't I emoji on my blog? Can someone tech support me on this?) I think we should be ready to send out our stuff soon. As someone who hates to wait on submissions, I hope that the tv people move faster than the book people. But somehow, I doubt it. Wish me luck!

Has anyone ever been to a seminar? And by seminar, I mean one of those places where the motivational speaker gets everyone all hyped up on words like "Mindset!", "Vision Board!", and "Positivity!" Well, I have, several times, and I love the way that they make me feel. I love the rush I get as I participate, and I love the positive energy that feeds the room, as everyone gets a healthy dose of confidence and "I think I can" attitude. I like to think that I have a positive mindset, and I do have a vision board that I made on my computer. None of these things are harmful, and they do help give me drive when I feel stuck, or need a healthy jolt. So, when one of my favourite speakers sent me an email inviting me to co-author a best seller with him, I hopped on down to his website and signed up to hear what it was about. As a writer, this all sounded fantastic! It was right up my alley.

DISCLAIMER: I will not name names, name the project, or say when I did this. For all those who chose to take on the project, I wish them nothing but success in their endeavours. My beef is not with them.

Now, I waited for the appointed date and time, and I called in to hear what this was all about. The speaker and his partner began to talk about all their accomplishments, naming uber famous people that their success had allowed them to work with, and saying that their positivity and work ethic had allowed all of this to happen. I was feeling pretty jazzed. It all sounded so good! They then began to outline the project, and to state that they weren't going to accept just anyone. Fair enough. Not anybody could write well enough to help with putting together a book, much less a best seller. However, if anyone interested had a good enough story to tell for their chapter, they could use one of their ghost writers for $500.00 a pop. Hmmmm... I let that slide, because I know that there are fantastic stories out there. Okay. And then, one of them said, "As for revenue, and royalties, we won't be paying them. For every ebook sold, Amazon takes 50%. That leaves $1.00 to divide up, and it makes no sense to send everyone $0.35 every few months." So... How many chapters does this behemoth of a book have? If it's a best seller, (which they GUARANTEE it would be) it won't be selling in minuscule numbers. That sounds like more than $0.35 to me. They then said that the revenue would be given to charity. Okay. I can live with a charity project, but be up front if that's what it is. 

What came next was staggering. We were told that it would cost US $8,000.00 to contribute to this book! But we'd be getting EXPOSURE, and PRESS RELEASES, and the ability to say that we were a BEST SELLING AUTHOR in everything that we do from now on. ​

And yes, I was silently judging. After al, they had us all on mute so no one could here our reactions. If they had, I would've given them an earful. I know some best selling authors, and I think it's safe to say that unless our last names are Rowling, King, James, or Martin we aren't rolling in the dough. So for these men to abuse their power and name recognition in this fashion left me feeling more than a little bit queasy.

When I write, it takes time. I take care with my words, and I put a lot of thought into what I do. My time is worth something, even if that something is a measly pittance. That pittance shows that I am valued. I can't pay my kids' tuition with exposure. Nor can I pay off a mortgage, repair a car, or pay for my dog's vet visit the next time he tries to play with his "stripey friend" or eats a bowl of pot pourri. 

A singer doesn't do a concert for free. A dancer doesn't appear on stage for exposure. Actor's don't perform Hamlet in High Park for shits and giggles. I don't understand why people like these men, and entities like The Huffington Post think that they can get by with so little regard for the countless men and women who work their asses off to give them content. Yes, there are those who paint, write, dance, and sing solely for fun. But for those of us who look at this as our calling, it is demeaning and insulting to ask us to work for literally nothing. This is exploitation in every sense of the word. And for these toxic idiots to also ask people who most certainly have significantly less than they do is beyond gross. Those who do this know that they are not dealing with the hobbyist, or the person who does this as a "side" project. Their talk was all about "Increasing our sales", "Using this as a stepping stone", and "Driving our brand". I was aghast. This was wrong. I am through selling myself so short. I deserve my royalties, my fee, and my exposure will come with a big fat paycheque. They can take this crap and shove it. I am writer. Hear me roar!