That Halcyon Rush of Dopamine

This past Wednesday, I was invited to participate in the Riverbed Reading Series to celebrate the greatness that was Flo Magazine. As the world was just opening up after the doldrums of the Covid 19 shutdown, Flo was there to act as a stage for Ottawa arts and letters, tapping into what has always been rich soil in this city. I discovered them in one of my first post-lockdown forays under at tent in the Vanier Hub, which is a great community event put on by the Vanier Community Center in Central Ottawa. The two ladies at the table, one of which I believe was Senka Stankovic, the magazine's arts editor, were happy to talk with me, leaving me motivated to submit something to them. Before moving on, however, I saw they had potted plants for sale. Since I'd been thinking of adding some green to my apartment, I bought one. That plant now hangs by my dining room window, and is 15 feet long.

 

I ended up submitting short stories to issues 3 and 4, had them successfully accepted, and then read those stories at their launches at the wonderful Art House Cafe. Post to my involvement with the magazine, they went on to produce another three issues before they regrettably shuttered their run in 2025.

Flash forward to a year later and the invitation comes from Riverbed to read for a retrospective, celebratory event on behalf of Flo. I'd been wanting to be part of the series since its inception in 2020 (as scary as it was- a lot of good things came out of those pandemic years!) I'd always admired the lineups that they could impanel, and they did so well with promoting their events. They were always present on social media, at a time when such series were falling by the wayside with the impediment of lockdowns and restrictions.

When the show started, it was wonderful listening to the all the poetry, showcasing the diverse styles that the crew at Flo had curated (mine was the only short story). I was especially impressed by one Elaine Marilyse, whose reading was so energetic and funny, it put my nerves at ease, giving me the right mindset for when I was finally called to the stage. I always battled my nerves in the lead up to my spot, resorting to deep breaths, mindfulness exercises and a neat shot of Jamesons or two from the bar. But the real help was from closing my eyes and listening to the poetry. Elaine's animated reading put me right where I needed to be. When I finally stepped up to the light of the stage, I felt good. It was nice to see the crowd nod to the serious parts and to hear them laugh at the funny ones. And when it was over, there it was- that halcyon rush of dopamine, that sense of deep, satisfying accomplishment. They say there's nothing like a natural high, and it's the truth. 

"Let's go out," I said to Marie as we were gathering our coats when it all came to a close. "I don't want this night to end." So, we walked down the Nicholas Street to The Albion Room for a $40 plate of fries and a crispy pork belly before the Uber ride home. It was a great evening.

I always did love reading in public. It can be a terrifying experience in the leadup, but anticipation is always more stressful than the actual deed. It's when I can inhabit my persona as a writer the most, when it's public, when I'm reaching the audience, when the feedback is immediate. It really is a compression of the whole writing experience in a quick five minutes. The rewards are worth the work I out in for it.

As it was, the Riverbed reading was a culmination of developments with my writing. In January, I had two stories accepted- the first being 'Birdsongs of the Mesozoic' (Infocalypse) and the second being 'Gullyrunning' (Great Lakes Review). This, all while editing was finally done on my novel 'LefTtURN' and I was able to submit it to publishing houses all over Canada. We'll see what happens there. In the meantime, I continue to work on my historical novel 'Berend' to the point now where I have 10 out of 14 chapters sitting in first draft. It's coming together quickly!

I have no illusions of material success from my writing, but just the thrill of creating and promoting is enough for me now. My goal, of course, is publication of everything I've made, but the real pleasure comes from the process of creation. Being able to read in public is really the culmination of it all, when I can orally deliver it to an audience and feel the immediate feedback. It's the most public a writer can be. And I will always be thankful when the opportunity comes.

I HAVE WAITED WITH CONTINENTAL PATIENCE: The opening paragraphs to Chapter 16 of LefTtURN

 

Life is like a pinball game. You strike the ball, and depending on the angle you hit it, it can go anywhere. You could ring up a lot of points, or you can end up in the hole, or the ball might just shoot right between your flippers where you can’t reach it and you lose. You lose a life. There are a lot of bells and whistles and sometimes music. Sometimes you’re the ball and sometimes you’re the flipper. Sometimes you’re the kid slapping the button that moves the flipper.

            Sometimes life is a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure book. You read the first few pages when you enter, and then at a certain point you are faced with a decision to make. You make your choice and something happens because of that choice. It might be good. It might be bad. After reading along whatever scenario you’ve chosen, it eventually gives you another choice. This choice can change your fortune for better or for worse. You might be able to go back to the page where you made that choice and take the other option to see where it goes, but that’s against the rules. In life, going against the rules has its own consequences and is not recommended. It’s a luxury you really shouldn’t utilize simply because it’s sleazy, not to mention cowardly.

            Sometimes Life is like a haunted funhouse. You are completely in the dark. Loud scary things jump out at you without warning, and you have to react. Sometimes you may pee your pants. Sometimes you will jump into the arms of the person closest to you. Sometimes that person might be a complete stranger or it might be the person you love most in this world. You might exercise the option to punch the actor in the face out of sheer self-defence, but this might end things really quick for you. You come out of it full of adrenaline, laughing or maybe even crying. After it all, there’s an end to it, where you walk out into the light of the world with all its people and its sounds. You can look back and remember what you’d been through.

            Life can be like a job interview. You’re given a set of questions and you need to come up with the best answers as quickly as possible. You will have no idea if you are giving the actual best answer while you are saying it. All you can do is hope your experience is wide enough to cover all the contingencies. Experience helps. At the end of the interview, you will still have no idea if you will be hired or if you have bombed completely. If you’re hired, you get a phone call a couple weeks down the line. If you’ve bombed, you get no phone call at all.

            Life can be like a game of cards. The outcome depends on how you play the cards the dealer hands you. This might make the dealer seem like they have some kind of power over you, but the truth is the dealer hasn’t got a goddamned clue what they’re dealing either. The power is in the cards and the choices you make with them. The power is yours, Planeteers.

In the end, the choices are always yours. The choices might bring either rewards or consequences. You never really know which, until after you’ve made your decision and the result comes into play. You might get warnings from people who have been through similar things before, or you might simply have a sense of prescience to figure out what awaits after you’ve made the decision.

            Good or bad, the results of your decisions aren’t something that is handed down to you by any kind of providence. The results of your actions have always been there, just waiting for you to get there. That said, there is no destiny, no path that lays before you that you can’t deviate from. There is only a string of good decisions that line up to read as a good life, or a string of bad decisions that end up in disaster.

            We only know what we know. We can take events in our life as lessons and refer back to them when we need help making a decision. Mistakes are opportunities to learn, and he who has not failed has yet to live. You only fail when you stop trying. You don’t score if you don’t shoot. You don’t win if you don’t play the game.

You know what you know. Knowledge, when you think of it that way, is like a flashlight when the way ahead is dark and invisible. You take what you’ve learned and apply it later, otherwise you haven’t learned a goddamned thing.

Things that might seem like cosmic intervention are really nothing but a happy alignment of circumstances. It might seem mindblowingly improbable, but that’s the thing with probability. It’s a spectrum. From impossible to certain, there are an almost limitless number of points in between. You can touch that rainbow anywhere. And when it’s good, you can revel in that goodness. You can be happy it happened. Indeed, happiness comes from happenstance.

You can chew on that one all day if you want.