Included Below: The Wind / Ash & Blair / Wild Boys / Overhead Compartment / Stories We Don’t Tell. Click HERE for further information about this newsletter. To those from before and those who are new-
I. WELCOME!
The wind in my hair.
It took me a few years to figure out, but the transition from fall to winter has a huge impact on my mental health. I honestly didn’t think the change in seasons was really that dangerous, but now I am a believer. I guess it’s Seasonal Affective Disorder (or, SAD, which to whomever named this - a bit on the nose), which, according to the Mayo Clinic is defined as:
A type of depression that's related to changes in seasons — SAD begins and ends at about the same times every year. If you're like most people with SAD, your symptoms start in the fall and continue into the winter months, sapping your energy and making you feel moody. These symptoms often resolve during the spring and summer months.
It’s not so much the cold or the shorter days, but the inability to be outside. And I think I’ve even narrowed it down further. This is going to sound ridiculous, but it’s the feeling of being outside, experiencing some level of momentum, and having the wind blow through my hair. Let me explain.
When we were in deep lockdown, I invested in an indoor exercise bike. Not one of those expensive complicated ones, a no frills bike that could be folded up and not be in the way. Knowing myself, exercise is a vial way to manage my moods. And one of my main forms of exercise is long bike rides. The bike worked out great and I used it all the time, especially in the winter.
Aside: perhaps it was a subliminal action, but I ended up hanging my outside bike helmet on the handlebars of my indoor exercise bike. One day, the superintendent of my building came by to fix something. When he entered and scanned the apartment, his eyes rested on the outdoor bike helmet hanging on the indoor exercise bike. He didn’t say anything, but I couldn’t help thinking he now thought I wore a helmet when riding my indoor exercise bike.
Anyway.
The last three years I’ve totally crashed around December. I finally recognized that perhaps there was a pattern here and I developed a plan. I needed to switch out the summer/outside exercise with activities I could do in the winter.
One more factor came into play. When I was moving house last year, I was in the back of the moving truck when I saw a giant big screen television. I joked with one of the movers: “So, when someone hires your company, do we get a free TV?” He said it was from the last move, the clients didn’t want it, and asked them to take it to the dump. Apparently, it was like new and still worked and if I wanted it, it was mine. I haven’t had a TV in years, not out of any moral restrictions, it’s just the way it panned out. On YouTube, I found a bunch of first person bike rides from all over the world.
When we transitioned from the fall to the winter, I started biking indoors every day. It was working, but I added one key element that really made things sail. The continuation of biking and the videos seemed to be tricking my brain. But this is the ridiculous part. One day I put a stool in front of the exercise bike, set a small fan on the stool, and pointed it at my face. The idea was to simulate the wind through my hair. Look, I know it’s ridiculous, but the world is a cold and dark place, and life is hard, so whatever small things we can find to make it more tolerable, I say do it. Even if you are at home on an indoor exercise bike, pretending you’re on a path in New Zealand with the mountain wind blowing through your hair.
This is my favourite POV indoor exercise bike video:
Q - Do you have little things that you do that feel ridiculous but really work? You know, don’t even tell me, just think happily about them to yourself.
II. TALES FROM THE DREAM ROOM
Each month welcomes an exclusive story from a parallel world.
The Dream Room will (hopefully) be a new series of books of interconnected stories that all take place in and around a world that is familiar to our own, but comes with some surprising differences.
I am working away on the first volume of the series that takes place in The Outskirts, a few hours outside of The City and nestled between Pine Forest, Lake Aberdeen, and the Beacon Hills. The story is about Ashley (Ash), a woman who mysteriously walks out of the fog of Pine Forest and into the life of 12 year old Blair.
Each month I’m going to include a quick excerpt from the book. These are drafts, and sometimes might be rough. But I wanted to use this space to try some things out, and to show the progress of the book. At the beginning, things might not be so linear - when I’m writing something big, I tend to jump around a bit - but I’ll try to make each excerpt as stand-alone as possible. With a bit of intrigue, of course!
THE DREAM ROOM SERIES - VOLUME ONE: The woman walked through the forest as though conjured from the mist.
In bad shape, she limped on her left leg, her colourful clothes smudged with dirt, nicks and cuts and scratches on the exposed skin of her face and hands. It was morning, she had been walking all night. If you asked her from where, she couldn’t remember. If you asked her why, that was a harder question.
Her concussed brain throbbed against her skull. Thirsty, the only thing she tasted was blood. All her limbs and thoughts were running on instinct. There was a big black hole of forgetfulness behind her, it was like she had been walking forever. Forever in this state or being and non-being, just one step and then a half-step, in front of the other.
Every once in a while, she stopped, leaned against a pine tree. She was surrounded by pine trees. During these brief pauses, she looked around and saw nothing but more pine trees. Every direction looked the same, like she was walking in place on a treadmill. The tall trees swayed in the light breeze creating a creaking sound. The pine trees were talking to each other. Whispering to each other about her in some ancient language. Every time she stopped, she didn’t think she’d be able to continue. But something deep inside got her going again.
Blair had been tracking her for most of the night.
Click on this link for the full story.
III. PAUL’S PICKS
A recommendation of something watched, read, or listened to.
I am obviously a big fan of podcasts. I am certainly not appreciating how these big companies - ahem, cough, Spotify, cough - think they can just muscle their way in. Podcasts have been around for a while now and it’s really hard to make money off them. Don’t get me wrong, there are people that have found a way, if you understand the medium, but these big media companies obviously don’t get them.
To me, the most charming thing about podcasts is the bar for entry (both in technical expertise and industry experience) is relatively low. Pretty much everyone can do it, even me! What I’ve appreciated is that this lack of gatekeepers meant you have access to voices and stories that are not always included in the mainstream. And if you’re smart about it, you can make money, but I’d say it’s more profitable at an individual level and not really a huge media company.
Anyway, all this to say that some of the best podcasts seem to come from smaller companies that are focusing on certain genres. I stumbled upon a company called Campside Media through a podcast they produced called Wild Boys.
Wild Boys is a limited series that takes place in the summer of 2003 when two half-starved young men turned up in a small Canadian town telling an incredible story.
They’d been raised in the British Columbia wilderness, and this was their first-ever contact with society — they’d never seen a TV, gone to school, or registered for IDs. So the community took them in and set about introducing them to the modern world. Before long, the international media descended on the town, enthralled by the mysterious “Bush Boys.” There was just one problem: not a word the boys said was true. Nearly 20 years later, award-winning comedian and journalist Sam Mullins uncovers the bizarre true story of the strangers who turned his hometown upside-down.
Two fun facts. First, I actually thought this was a fiction podcast that was meant to sound like a documentary series. It is very real. I looked it up. Second, I actually interviewed Sam Mullins a few years ago for a podcast I co-hosted. Sadly (or perhaps not so sadly), that podcast has disappeared into the ether of the internet.
The podcast is really well-researched, amazingly written, and presented in a very intriguing way. I basically binged the whole thing in a couple of days. Listen to Wild Boys wherever you get podcasts or check out this LINK.
Q - Any podcast recommendations?
IV. FROM THE ARCHIVES
An old story from my blog brought to you in a new way.
OVERHEAD COMPARTMENT (JANUARY 2019): It’s dangerous traveling alone.
Before the holidays, I was on a business trip and waited in a large room before heading into customs. My flight was one of the first to take off in the early morning and customs was not yet open. It was merely a matter of minutes before the floodgates opened and we could continue on our journey, when, to my left, those dreaded words every single traveling person dreads to hear:
Can you move over so we can sit together?
It was three o’clock in the morning. I had been at the airport all night. We were literally going to be sitting here for a few minutes. I was not in the mood. Is there any way, please, that you could wait for these precious few minutes apart, or better yet, stand together off to the side? Why do I, the person who had gotten here early and waited patiently through this arduous process to actually get a seat for a few goddamn minutes and I have to move because it is of the upmost importance that you desperately cannot sit down unless it is beside your mate?
I moved over, I wasn’t in the mood to go through all this. So, instead, I just cycled through it in my head.
Read the whole story at this link.
Q - Any travel horror stories?
V. WATCH, LISTEN, READ, OR DO
Something to take with you.
Last year we did one Stories We Don’t Tell show. We’re hoping to at least double it. Kidding, we’re actually planning a lot more than that. Three, at least. Again, I kid. I’ll stop.
Our next show is on Saturday, January 28th, 2023, and we hope it’s the start of more consistent shows for the rest of the winter and into the spring. So, I’d like to formally invite you all to Stories We Don’t Tell: Winterlude.
For those of you that don’t know, Stories We Don’t Tell is a (sort of, but not lately) monthly storytelling show where people gather in a house or apartment in Toronto to share personal and intimate stories. This being said, we do have a bigger event in January in a space that can hold many more people then we usually can accommodate. So, tell all your friends! Bring your entire family! Come one, come all!
As always, the show is free, but we do ask that you register at this LINK. We are always looking for new performers, so if you have a story to share at a future show, please fill out this form.
Hope to see you there!
Q - Will I see you there?
You’ve probably noticed that I’ve included a question at the end of each section. No, this isn’t required homework. However, if you are compelled to write to me with your thoughts, I would love to hear from you. Who knows, I might even share some of the answers in future newsletters (anonymously, of course). Email me here: jpd@pauldore.com.
December 2022 Edition: Pay Attention / The Dream Room Series / Murakami / A Quiet Place / Artery.