A-OK with IFOA

Ah, the sudden sweetness of Fall. We are in the throes of another major literary season, and I am steeped in BOOKSBOOKSBOOKS. It's a touch unsightly, even. From the part-time gig at Chapters and the night courses in publishing, to the recent spate of volunteerism, I am set to overdose on words in the near future.

Ain't it grand, kids?

As I promised in the last post (From the Frontline of the IFOA), here is the recap of the first two shifts I worked with The Harbourfront Centre for the International Festival of Authors:

Friday, October 22/2010

Emma Donoghue

Yes, it's true -- I met Queen of the Queer Pages, Emma Donoghue. It consisted of an over-energetic, "HELLO!!" from me, and a polite "Hello" from Ms. Donoghue. Then she was whisked away by her publicist/publisher entourage for reasons other than the strange volunteer girl's presence.

*Ahem*

I admit, I did not know a great deal about Ms. Donoghue before this season. Her latest novel, Room, is sweeping the major book awards (RE: Nods from the Man Booker Prize, the Writer's Trust Fund, and the Governor General's Award), so, of course, I took notice. But sweet bottle rockets -- she's an out woman, ladies! Where have I been living in the last decade to not notice this?! The woman wrote Passions Between Women: British Lesbian Culture 1668-1801, Inseparable: Desire Between Women in Literature, AND she's written lesbian-themed novels.

I'm awakening harder than Edna Pontellier, people -- and it isn't to the stifling realities of a woman's life in the nineteenth-century, either.

So, lesson learnt. And what a fine schooling it was.

I also got to meet the man about town, Ben McNally, who owns one of the most gorgeous bookstores in Toronto.

Ben McNally Books, 366 Bay Street

Quite the experience to see a gentleman like him in action. He's one of those linchpin booksellers in Toronto, and the professionals flock to him because of his involvement in the area. I observed him quietly as I straightened stacks of books and re-stocked tables. When the readings and the round-table discussions take place, there's about an hour's worth of downtime before the crowds crush the area -- I toured the book synopses and talked literature with Mr. McNally and the volunteers he invited out to the events on Friday. Crazy. Simply crazy.

Saturday, October 23/2010

It's IFOA NOIR, dollface.

I returned the next night for the same position at the same location. I met two great volunteers that night, and had ample time to compare notes on the festival. Ha, I even got to be the impromptu instructor for a few new volunteers. I've learned in the last little while that, if you speak with enough confidence, folks will grant greater power to you. I had people defaulting to me on some major decisions that were beyond my scope as a first-time IFOA volunteer.

I realized then how much I've changed in the last two and a half years when it comes to public speaking -- I used to be nervous in those situations, and unsure of how I should present myself. Now, I approach people as if I've known them for months, and it seems to break through some social wall we all tend to build between each other. Ah, revelations -- and the night was still young!

I got to sneak into one of the readings taking place in a room close to us during a quiet stretch. The theme for this year's festival is IFOA NOIR -- in the Brigantine Room, a great collection of crime fiction, thrillers, and mystery novels are showcased each night, and fans can meet the authors afterward. I got to hear Peter Robinson read from his latest novel, Bad Boy, and I got to meet Louise Penny, author of the Bury Your Dead, after the readings. Mr. McNally asks the authors to sign additional copies of their books before the night wraps up, so I got to approach Ms. Penny for her signature. She's an absolute delight, and I talked to her and her publicist/publisher about the intriguing, all-white cover of her latest novel (as an employee at a bookstore, I can vouch for the fact that a white book jacket will stand out amid the sea of dark covers known to mysteries/thrillers).

***

I floated back to the GO Train, full of splendid, book-related vibes. This sensation has been amplified recently due to the sheer volume of reading I'm tackling at the moment. I realized how many other shortlists I was interested in, so.... I will be occupied with that for some time. As a recap for new readers, the lists I'm checking out are:

• The Scotiabank Giller Prize longlist (13 titles)
• The Man Booker Prize shortlist (6 titles)
• The Rogers Writers' Trust Fund shortlist (5 titles)
• The Toronto Book Award shortlist (5 titles)
• The Governor General's Literary Awards (English-language) shortlists (35 titles)

... Now, granted, there's a great deal of overlap in there. For instance, Emma Donoghue's Room appears on the shortlists for the Man Booker Prize, the Writers' Trust award, and the Governor General's English-language Fiction award. Also, Kathleen Winter's Annabel appears on the shortlists for the Giller Prize, the Writers' Trust award, and the GG's fiction award, also. Trust me, it helps. From here, I've got five titles under the belt, and four more in my possession.

And I finally got a copy of Annabel Lyon's The Golden Mean from our local library! I've had it on hold since February. I know, I am a dedicated (and cheap) reader. I'm halfway through it and, golly -- quite the sexy times in ancient Greece.

I have two more shifts lined up with Harbourfront, so expect more updates from the frontline of the IFOA in the next few days (that is, if I don't swoon from the book-induced overload).

From the Frontline of the IFOA

Date: Friday, October 22/2010

Setting: Harbourfront Centre, Toronto, ON - Marilyn Brewer Community Space, temporary site of Ben McNally Books.

Event: Day Three of the International Festival of Authors

Enter: Miz Moffatt, Book Assistant Extraordinaire.

(Miz Moffatt mills about the book selling area, volunteer tag hanging about her neck. She pours over new books, drooling over their promising synopses. A murmur rises at the main staircase as a flood of book nerds pours into the space. Miz Moffatt engages in a running, internalized commentary....)

Miz Moffatt (V/O): Oh, here comes the first wave. Hmm, I wonder who all was on that panel. I'm guessing the authors were literary fiction. I'm seeing a lot of heavy, dark-framed glasses buzzing around-- hello! She's cute. Cropped hair, pixie features, all-black outfit -- yes, please.

(Miz Moffatt checks her volunteer tag, makes sure it is visible. Wonders if she could catch the light with the laminated tag to signal the lady over to her...)

I wonder which book she's looking for-- oh, well, now. Soft butch at ten o'clock. Hmm, she seems like a serious type, very knowledgeable. Oh, that girl must be her girlfriend. Always a pleasure to find lesbians outside of the bar scene. Huh, that's odd -- my Gaydar seems to be overactive tonight. Well, it's been a long week, maybe I'm just imagining -- WOW! Fitted, red jacket, asymmetrical haircut, fierce femme girl cradling a copy of Inseparable: Desire Between Women in Literature?! WHERE ON EARTH AM I?!

(Miz Moffatt peeks around the corner at the author signing tables. Notes where these fine ladies are gravitating toward.)

Emma Donoghue. Man Booker Prize nominee, and greatest gay gal lure of 'em all.

IFOA, I am forever in your debt.

***

More to adventures to follow in the next few posts....

Miz Moffatt: Volunteerism-Junkie

OH. MY. WORD.

How to summarize a weekend spent in the vast world of volunteerism and Toronto-based excitement?

It was overwhelming, stunning, exhausting, and oh-so-rewarding on numerous levels. I felt alive crossing the streets of Toronto and barreling across railroad tracks and through subway lines to find new adventures throughout our fair city. The weather was blissful, the crowds were pulsing and polite, and I discovered I am not the wallflower I paint myself to be.

So, let's start where we left off with the May 22nd recap, shall we?

Sunday, May 23rd/2010

It is now official -- I am a fully-credited, bona fide volunteer for The Harbourfront Centre, Toronto's artistic and cultural hub located on the steps of Lake Ontario. The main event for the May long weekend was the HarbourKids circus-themed celebration. Indeed, clowns and performers of all sorts were on hand in addition to a host of colourful, varied activities to engage the wee ones and activate their imaginations.

Granted, I was wary of what I had signed up for. Me + children = Recipe for disaster. I am controlled, anal-retentive, and quiet. Children tend to lack these qualities. Chalk the experience up as Lesson the First: the kids were fantastic. On Sunday, I helped out with an indoor animation flipbook station. A professional animator taught groups of 24 kids how to draw a simple, two-page animation of a frog in a clown hat jumping on his lily pad. I was in charge of signing kids up for the half hour lessons and I got to try my hand at animating, too. Serious, I was shocked over how focused the groups were and just how proud all of them were with the end results.

What is this? Am I reconciling my differences with children?

Weird.

The one flaw with the station: we were the only ones who required sign-up times. Parents would register their kids and either A) Bail out on the slot without alerting us, or B) Arrive ten minutes after the next session started. It was a touch frustrating to juggle, but it's easier to keep a light attitude when you are a volunteer, I find. And folks are less inclined to get cruel with people choosing to volunteer their free hours to a free weekend event. So, thumbs up to all involved.

***

In the evening, we had the extended Moffatt clan over to celebrate the 25th Anniversary of an Aunt and Uncle and to also celebrate the May birthdays (me, the Cuz, and another Uncle). I arrived home from the volunteer shift exactly five minutes before our guests arrived. Oh, GO Train and your ill-timed maintenance. I was two hours later than the scheduled arrival time. *Sigh*

Anyhow, regardless of the mad dash, us Moffatts still had exclusive, great times. The Cuz and I exchanged first impressions of The Eleventh Doctor on Doctor Who and we talked about other sci fi wonders and general Hollywood buzz. It was still warm out and the sky was taking on that rosy, early evening haze and I nursed a Sleeman's Honey Brown as we all caught up.

Dinner consisted of tapas appetizers and a three-mushroom/arugula/balsamic reduction pizza pour moi and some type of stuffed chicken for all the omnivores in the house. So. Delicious. I wish I could eat like this on a regular basis. Of course, we followed it all with three types of cake, ice cream, and a giant fruit platter, you know, as you do.

Dad bought a pack of sparklers and a small group of us took to the backyard for some fun. Lil' brother and I were pretending to LARP while "attacking" one another with lightning bolts from our wands. My Aunt tried to trace her name into the night sky and Ruby (the Sister's basset hound) ran between us all, barking at the embers filling the air. As kids, Victoria Day always = SPARKLERS. It was lovely to revisit it all and discover I still had that inhibition in me.

Monday, May 24th/2010

Monday was quite the intense crush of action. I spent the morning planting beans with children and spent the evening watching a Spanish musical about a pre-op trans woman. Eventful start to the week, no doubt.

So yes, I returned to The Harbourfront Centre and dug in to the Cirque Dirt Fairy Garden station. Since it was fairy-themed, I donned a pair of pillowy wings covered in pink sequins. It clashed appropriately with the bright yellow gardening gloves I also procured. Pinnacle of fashion right here, people.

I will be the first to admit I do not know the first thing about gardening. I know you need to water plants and I know plants need sunlight to grow. Yep. That would be the extent. But our facilitator, Garden Jane, knew a smart trick or two about all the potted flowers, the decorative additions, and the actual planting process of the beans we were handing out to all the young'uns. It was a steady stream of visitors and, again, the enthusiasm of the kids was amazing. I helped out with planting the Ireland Creek beans and watering them before the kids took them home to care for. It was a quick four hours -- and I got to take in the gorgeous morning air with our outdoor station this time around.

***

I spent a couple of hours wandering the Church/Yonge area before the next shift with the Inside Out Film Festival. Activities included:

• Late lunch/early dinner at one of the Pizzaiolo locations in Toronto. Oh, dear readers -- I dream of this pizza. It's gourmet and affordable and fresh, all wrapped into a slice of sheer perfection. I recommend the Spinotta slice to all the vegetarians out there. It's layered with crisp spinach, marinated tomatoes, and goat cheese. *Drools at the recollection*
• Quick stop at The Glad Day Bookstore on Yonge St. I went there with O'Neill back in 2008 and the store is just as I recalled it. It's a small, independent bookstore specializing in queer lit and other LGBT publications. Readers can find anthologies, queer-authored novels, political texts, historical collections, magazines, independent zines, and so much more.

I reported for duties at Buddies in Bad Times once again and donned the Inside Out Film Festival t-shirt once more to appease the queer masses descending on our lil' theatre. I covered the screening of The Watermelon Women (1996) and 20 centímetros (2005) and reveled in more queer film gems throughout the night.

***

I will have to save details for tomorrow evening as I am still recovering from the hustle and bustle of the weekend activities (aka. I am right tired and about to collapse). All in all, it was a splendid, hectic weekend and I look forward to more times like these to follow.