Traction Control.

When kids aren't natural talents in their sport, you often see them making up their own fun. They'll dig holes in the outfield with their heels, or try to stuff golf balls into their mouth, or just fiddle around with cheat codes, rather than play team deathmatch.

Likewise, if you needed more proof that I'm not a great curler, look no further than the fact that more than curling itself, I love sliding down the rink. Even though you're just returning to your position for the next rock... for a split second, you're poised on one foot, broom in both hands, your open jacket is billowing in the chilled air, and compared to all the other players, frozen in their concentration, you're flying past them like you're skateboarding through a museum.

That's why I always wear a slider while sweeping, even though it's not really necessary. But I was trying a different style of sweeping today, so I went without a slider, only putting it on to throw my rocks.

This worked fairly well, and it even made me feel a bit more professional. I was enjoying some exceptional accuracy with my take-outs, and the skip started calling for more challenging shots, which I took as a show of confidence. (Or possibly, he had no other choice. Skips aren't usually forthcoming with details like that.) One particular shot in the fifth end was a difficult bump-and-roll: a take-out that would curl around a guard, hit the opponent's rock, and come to rest behind a guard of its own. I crouched down, visualised the shot, and pushed off.

What happened next was something I'd never experienced before. Coming out of the hack, the entire world slowed down. Rather than flying through a museum, I was now one of the museum exhibits, slowly toppling off the pedestal and bumping along the floor as everyone turns in horror. The only thing I could do at normal speed was think - even after my initial shock, I still had all the time in the world to analyse what went wrong, and how I was going to blog about it that evening. As you may have guessed, I forgot to put my slider on.

There was only one direction I was going - straight down, face first into the ice, and all I could do was make sure I didn't take my rock with me. And so, I torqued my elbow and shoved the rock away before I sprawled out on the sheet. (Note for non-curlers: throwing a rock with your arm is generally accepted as the worst way you possibly deliver a rock, save for kicking it. It's about as elegant as signing your name with a metre-long pencil.)

At first, until they saw what had happened, the opposing team was actually impressed with my form - they hadn't often seen someone stay so low to the ground in delivery. Our skip noticed, too - his exact words were, "What sort of a Batman pose is Denton trying over there?" Meanwhile, I stood up, shook the ice off my jacket, and joked about it with the other team. Only once the sweepers came back did I actually look to see what had happened. My take-out curled around a guard, hit the opponent's rock, and came to rest behind a guard of its own. It was a perfect shot.

Naturally, I spent the rest of the game trying even harder to regain that "professional" feeling I'd had earlier, which meant I didn't make a single shot afterwards.

But at least I was flying again.

Rogue's Gallery.

Well, another November is wrapped up. As has the October before it, and the September before that. Those were probably the longest three months of my life that didn't have a final exam in them... but now it's over, and I'm able to talk about Batman.

You see, this summer, I finished the latest revision of "Pile O' Bones", my novel about a Saskatchewan vampire hunter. I've sent copies out to those who asked about it, and one or two people were even polite enough to inquire about a sequel. I proposed that in Book Two, our hero would venture to Alberta, where a dark and foul force is preying upon Newfoundlanders in the oil patch. And then, the hero follows this villain to Newfoundland, where he has to confront this evil before he corrupts the very spirit of St. John's itself.

I liked the idea for a little while, but then I realised the horrible truth: One backdrop the first time (the best one), and two for the second, to make up for the first's absence. I was following the same pattern as the Batman movies!

But maybe that's not a bad thing. Let's take a look, shall we? Behold, then: The Adventures of Norton Swift, Paranormal Investigator!

1. "Batman". Villain: The Joker.

Book One takes place in Saskatchewan. Why does Saskatchewan resemble the Joker? For no reason at all. That's why it's funny! (But seriously, this decision was already made for me, in a way.)

2. "Batman Returns". Villains: Penguin, Catwoman

I already planned that I'd feature Newfoundland and Alberta in this novel, and it's and easier match than I thought. For the Penguin, you have the sea, birds, umbrellas, and strange mannerisms. And Alberta as Catwoman? Well, Alberta is a lady's name. Catwoman is something of a Wild Rose herself. And unlike most other Batman villains, she's in it for the money.

3. "Batman Forever". Villains: Two-Face and the Riddler

After two books of adventures, it makes sense that Ron would eventually be called into the heart of the country: Ontario and Quebec. The beautiful part here is that both villains describes both provinces equally well.

4. "Batman and Robin". Villains: Mr. Freeze, Poison Ivy, and Bane

These matches are all blindingly obvious: the Northwest Territories, B.C., and PEI. Also, there's the added bonus that this book would take our hero from "Coast to Coast to Coast". In fact, that would probably be the title of this one.

5. "Batman Begins". Villains: Scarecrow, Ra's Al Ghul

The Scarecrow isn't quite a perfect match for the Yukon, but we'll accept it out of respect for Sam McGee. And Ra's Al Ghul is an powerful immortal, who controls a distant empire, who sees Batman as a potential ally as well as a rival. That's not a province - that's the good ol' United States of America. It looks like Ron's finally stamping his passport in Book 5.

6. "The Dark Knight". Villains: Joker, Two-Face

And here, a return to the two provinces that most need a second appearance: Saskatchewan because it's his home, and Ontario because Toronto will remain absent from the third novel, but feature prominently here.

There you have it! A map of all future adventures! So, we still have to travel to Nunavut, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and Manitoba. I think I know two of those analogues already:

The Ventriloquist = New Brunswick. That most bilingual of provinces, long knows for being able to speak with two voices. Not only that, but they have a mild public image that somehow co-exists with their fiery Maritime spirit.

The Mad Hatter = Manitoba. Chiefly because of the Metis trappers and the Northwest Rebellion, but I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard to find other examples of crazy Winnipeggers.

So, all we have left to find are Bat-villains for Nunavut and Nova Scotia. Any suggestions?