What a year!

It's been one hell of a year, hasn't it?

I've returned to the workforce following an 18-month sabbatical during which time I think I've learned how to write, have begun to understand my daughter which is one of the best things I could have hoped for, and my son is blossoming.

On the down side, I have fallen even farther away from my mother and sister than I had expected, and am still struggling with how to have a healthy relationship with someone who loves me. (Frankly, I can be such a bitch around him that I can't stand myself.)

The deal with my mom and sister occurred over Christmas. (Oh, how horribly predictable!) I knew the trip home would be difficult, but hadn't figured just how uncomfortable I'd feel there. Now, when I say home, what I mean is the town where my my mother and sister reside. It has never been my home, but theirs.

It was the first time I had seen my mother in almost three years due to a rift in our relationship. I'm not sure what I expected, but her decline into complete self-interest wasn't it. Not that she hasn't always been overly-involved with herself, but seeing how that tendency has played out with age was a shock. Unless she is talking about herself, during which time she is animated and mentally sharp, she stares off into space caught up in her own thoughts and completely disinterested in conversation going on around her. It was as though her metal acuity or personality could be turned off or on in an instant depending on the topic of conversation. Granted, she's not a young thing anymore and so can be forgiven the eccentricities, lags in memory, or other such things as come with great years. But she gets around so well for an new octogenarian that I hadn't anticipated this... what can I call it? Vacuity isn't really it as she's sharp as can be when she cares to be. Self-absorption is the only label I can summon.

She didn't bother to ask her grandchildren how they were, how our various flights or drives were, nothing. Zip. The only time she spoke was about herself. And she can do that for hours, literally.

It was weird.

Then I had a disagreement with my sister and discovered something new. (Why is it the new discoveries are always about the things which are so obvious?) She has always been wrapped up in a simmering rage that takes little to provoke. Those around her learn to walk gently and avoid her temper when possible. But this time I couldn't and told her how upset I was. She responded by attacking my character and name calling. Her version of a reasonable discussion, I suppose. I realize that her anger with me was warranted. I'm no saint. It was her approach that was unnecessary and, frankly, harmful to our relationship. Why had I never noticed her verbal punches before? Because I didn't want to. I've lived with a version of our relationship that made me happy. I wonder now whether this image actually exists.

So, when she was finished yelling, I walked away much saddened. Pat, my kids and I left the following morning making the fourteen-hour drive home by early evening.

It's good to be here.

And now the new year hearkens. I haven't a clue as to what it holds for us, but I do know that my focus is going to be on my immediate family and our relationships with each other -- listening to my daughter and helping her to trust me more, laughing with my son and helping him push beyond his limits, and yes, being a better mate (although this truly scares me.)

I wish a fulfilling, contentment-making year to all my friends, Becca, Stephen, Richard, Kristina, John, Peace Mama, MaryJoy, Carrie, Lisa, Martha, Erin (I love you tons,) members of my writing group, Gail (yes, we must get together for coffee soon,) Donna (great luck with the new book,) my students, and others not mentioned here. Please know that even when I drop out of sight for a bit, I am still thinking about you and wishing you well.

Lots of love,
Colleen

Safe and sound

The men have just pulled into my sister's driveway, safe and sound after a tense couple of hours travelling through a winter storm.

I'm so relieved they've arrived.

We almost thought they might get in before the storm hit, but about halfway between Quebec City and Montreal, Mother Nature unleashed her gale slowing traffic to 40 km/hr through Montreal and 60 km/hr thereafter.

Now I can relax and so can they.

Sis has some lovely homemde soup and lots of hugs waiting for them.

Now, back in N.S., we'll have to see how this storm plays out for my students' first news conference scheduled for the morning!

C

Christmas is on!

We're all going home for Christmas. It'll be the first time in 2.5 years that I've been back to Ontario and am really looking forward to having Christmas with my sister.

Yes, I enjoy having my kids and hubby and other friends and family around, but it's spending Christmas with my sister that's really special. We have our traditions, you see. Traditions that only she and I truly appreciate. Singing carols off key on Christmas Eve is one example. (And to be perfectly honest, I'm the onely one off key, she's better than me.)

My daughter flew to Ottawa on Wednesday to hang out with her friends for 10 days before the rest of us arrive. Pat and my son left 15 minutes ago with a car loaded with gifts. I am trying to visualize clear skies and roads for their trip despite the blizzard that's blowing in from the west.

That leaves me with 5 days to myself. Woohoo!

Okay, I have to buy two more small gifts, work each morning till noon, and make turkey dressing and cranberry sauce to bring with me when I fly out of here on Thursday, but that's it. That's it.

WOW.

I can't remember a time when I've had so little to be responsible for.

I think I'm going to head back to bed with a book. (Robertson Davies, World of Wonders, the final in his Deptford trilogy.)

Sigh.

How lovely.

Maybe I should call to see how the trip is progressing.

C

Catch Up

Whew! Things have been busy.

Thanks to everyone who has sent me a note or posted a comment. I appreciate knowing you've been thinking about me.

As you may know, I've recently returned to the world of paid work and have taken a job as an instructor at a local, private college where I teach the public relations course. It is an accelerated, advanced diploma program. I teach each day from 8 a.m. to noon. We are covering theory, writing and special events and will get to all the other required courses over the course of the year. Teaching ends at the end of August when the students will leave for their field placements after which, they will graduate.

As a class project, we are helping two local school teachers -- Jeff and Jenny -- who are leaving Canada in January to climb Mount Kilimanjaro as a way of raising awareness of the plight of a group of children at an orphanage in Kenya. The children have been moved from their village in East Pokot to Nakuru to avoid tribal warfare in the region. Drought has caused famine which has caused tribal skirmishes.

We are seeking corporate sponsorship and other funds (yes, feel free to donate!) to raise $15,000 to renovate the orphanage, develop sustainable, educational programs, and help fend off famine through "famine drops" -- bi-weekly food deliveries to more than 1,000 villagers.

Jeff and Jenny also need a laptop to bring to the orphanage to facilitate working there.

As part of our awareness- and fund- raising, we are also seeking in-kind donations -- products to auction off at a Valentine's Day auction on or about February 7.

We are hosting a news conference on December 17 and hope to have the technology to link with J&J when they reach the summit as another awareness-raising event.

If you're interested in finding out more, please visit their website at: www.climbing4kenya.com

Wow! That turned into a total pitch.

Back to the planned personal update...

After classes, I tutor my darling daughter who has her final provincial hair stylist exam mid-January.

Do I need to say that by the time I get home, I could pour my brain onto the floor like gravy over Christmas dinner?

Hence my inability to write either my blog or my actual manuscript.

But there are the holidays to prepare for, classes to prep, the Write for Rights campaign to launch (see my other blog for info about that) and other sundry items like staying on top of my son's homeschooling to take care of.

Whine, whine, whine. (Yes, I would like a little cheese with that.)

Ah, I hear the pitter-patter of my son's size 10 feet stumbling up the stairs. (He has promised to write a couple of letters in support of human rights for today's write-a-thon.)

I hope you are all doing well and take time over the holidays to do something to make the world a better place.

Love,
Colleen

The Giller!

Canada's most prestigious award was announced last night and the winner is Ottawa resident, Elizabeth Hay and her book: Late Nights on Air. Her work of fiction is based on her experience as a late-night radio personality at the CBC in Yellowknife.

Info about last night's ceremony is here.

The book is described as "'a flawlessly crafted and timeless story, masterfully told'. Late Nights on Air triumphed over a record 108 books submitted by 46 publishers." You can get it here.

Well, it has been a while, hasn't it?

This fall has been ridiculously busy and has had heartbreaking moments aplenty. The latter I'm not going to discuss except to say that the history of challenges around life with my daughter continue. I wrote a blog about it one day that stayed up for about three hours before I took it down. Somethings really are to personal to be shared. And then, of course, there is the issue of respecting her privacy.

On the busy front, I have begun my work with Amnesty International and spoke briefly about my role at the regional conference on Saturday. I'll post more on that at on my other blog.

I've found a job teaching public relations at a local college. It's an exciting, but scary prospect. Yesterday, I was provided with the books and curriculum and spent the evening feeling rather overwhelmed. Today is a better day. I begin on Nov. 12.

Then there is organizing homeschool activities for a teen group, being involved in my son's educational activities, helping to organize my mother's 80th birthday party, planning for Christmas, and just regular life.

I'm also writing content for an IT website which I had better get to right now.

I'll be glad when things settle a bit and I can get back to some writing. Real writing.

I wish you all the best in whatever endeavours are consuming you today!
Colleen

Doris Lessing Wins Nobel Prize in Literature

Breaking News AlertThe New York TimesThursday, October 11, 2007 -- 7:14 AM ET-----

Doris Lessing Wins Nobel Prize in Literature

The Swedish Academy said that the 87-year-old British author"has subjected a divided civilization to scrutiny" with"skepticism, fire and visionary power."

Read More:http://www.nytimes.com/?emc=na

Interview with Brian Tucker

Vagrant Press has just released Brian Tucker’s first book, Big White Knuckles, a story of an artistic boy growing up in a coal-mining town in Cape Breton.

Here’s the publisher’s description: “Dagan Cadden knows that one day he will grow up to be a hard man like his Da. But the older he gets, the more he sees himself away from the coalmine and perhaps away from Cape Breton itself. If he follows his dreams of becoming an artist, Dagan will have to break some of the rock-hard traditions of his family, and make his way toward a future that is much less certain.

“Funny and poignant, captivating and raw, Big White Knuckles is a novel about what it takes to become the person you want to be while staying loyal to the things that made you what you are.”

Leo McKay Jr., author of Like This and Twenty-six says: “Out of the rough-hewn lumber of the working-class male vernacular, Brian Tucker has crafted a tender portrait of a young man simultaneously at odds with and in love with his community.”

This is what struck me most about the book. Books that deal with blue-collar communities sometimes focus single-mindedly on the negative aspects of such a place, but this one does not. As a matter of fact, even the most gruesome physicality is described in a way that allows the reader to, at times, find a degree of sympathy with the perpetrators. This is quite a feat because I cringe at even the mildest violence and often skip over these types of passages in other books.

Brian’s portrayal of Da is another work of subtlety. The man with the big, white knuckles is no one-dimensional brute, but a man who lives by a code of honour he tries to pass along to his son.

I enjoyed Brian’s work immensely and encourage you to pick it up.

Link to Chapters.

Link to Amazon.

Link to Vagrant Press.

Interview

Brian, I’ve just finished your book, Big White Knuckles, and have to ask: how biographical is it?

I get that question a lot. I would say that half of the book is based on some true event. I’ve highly fictionalized a lot of those true events but there are some I hardly touched at all. I think people will be surprised as to what is true and what is not.

Your characters aren’t always portrayed in a positive light. Are they based upon real people and, if so, do the people they’re based upon see themselves in your pages? How do they feel about being in your book?

There are a few characters based on real people. Some are composites. The character of Styx for example is based on a friend I had in Cape Breton and a good friend here in New Brunswick. I haven’t heard anything yet but I’m expecting some shit to come my way over certain depictions.

You studied art at NSCAD University. What drew you away from art and towards writing? Are you still involved in art? Do you find the two complementary, or does one inspire the other?

I haven’t painted anything since I started writing BWK. I don’t know why. It used to be different. When I wasn’t painting I was writing and when I wasn’t writing I’d start pushing some paint around. I used to love painting but now all I want to do is write.


How long did it take you to write your book?

I read in a writers guide that all publishers were looking for were 30 pages of a manuscript, a SASE and a query letter. I wrote the 30 pages over a weekend and sent it out figuring by the time I heard back I’d have most of the book completed. In my query letter I said that the book was finished and that it was 48,000 words, which was a complete lie. Three months went by and a get a call from Sandra McIntyre from Vagrant Press looking for the rest so I did what most writers would do in that situation, I lied again. I told her that the book was written out in long hand and I would need some time to type it out. I still only had 30 pages. I wrote the entire book in a month and sent it out. She liked what I sent and asked if I could double it in three months. I told her I could even though I was working two jobs at the time. I had to wake up at 6:30 am write until I went to work, come home at 10pm, write until 2am and do the same thing all over again the next day for three months.

When you write, do you edit as you go, or write full drafts and edit after each?

I write entire drafts in long hand and then type it out later. I edit during the typing stage.

Will there be a next book? If so, have you given any thought to it yet?

I’m about four chapters into my second novel. The working title is Somethin Fierce.

Do you have any advice for writers who are looking to be published?

Not really. I’m new to this game, just stumbling around hoping to end up in a good place. The only advice I could give at this point is find the right publisher for your work. Vagrant Press has been very good to me. I think I ended up in a good place.

Many thanks for taking the time to speak with me. I wish you all the best on your book.

Colleen

Sylvanus Now Contest: The book, the winner and the last entry

I have been looking forward to this day and being able to give a copy of Sylvanus Now away to someone. Thanks to everyone for participating. It's been fun to read your submissions.

Before we get to the draw, I'd like to tell you a bit about the book.

I finished my own copy (in case you thought I was sending out my used one) of Sylvanus Now on Wednesday. One of the things that makes writing great is a writer's ability to create another world for us. That is something Donna does with great skill.

When I read one of her books about Newfoundland in the 50s and 60, I feel as though I've been transported to a previous century. For those of us who remember growing up in that era, the place and life Donna describes is somewhere outside of most of our experiences. It is this life -- the life in Newfoundland's outports -- that she brings to us in a way that no other can.

When she writes about the collapse of the fishery, her prose doesn't slip into sermonizing, as it might. Instead, she captures the anguish and utter stupidity of it all with a dexterity that had me racing through the pages with my heart in my throat.

In the pages of Sylvanus Now, you'll discover the heartbeat of something we've lost that's been recaptured for us to experience.

I believe it is a rare writer who can perform such a feat.

Thank you, Donna. I am looking forward to your next book next year.

Now, without further ado, may I have a drum roll, please? (I guess that technically counts as further ado, but, hey, this is my blog!)

My hand is dipping into the container and... the winner of the Sylvanus Now contest is..... Carla!

Congratulations! I hope you enjoy the book as much as I have.

For everyone, if you haven't already, begin to explore the works of Atlantic Canada authors. (If you aren't sure where to look, check out interviews on this blog done with Ami McKay, Linda Little, Maureen Hull and, of course, Donna.)
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And now the last submission for the contest. This one isn't eligible because it comes from my partner Pat, whose words I have promised not to edit -- even if they embarrass me. That was the deal. I think it's kinda sweet that he -- a guy who doesn't usually write -- would make the effort to send something in. So, here it is: Pat's view of things.
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Living with a writer

by
Patrick McCarthy

Being a creative person is a wonderful gift. Sharing ideas, art, music and writing for others to enjoy. To most it brings a few hours of pleasure.To some it brings a life changing insight never before realized. Not everyone gets to see the other side of the page though. That's where the the time agonizing over ideas, characters, just the right phrases and creating the all important hook, occurs.

I have been discovering that side for the last year and a half. Now, I never read a book where I don't think of the author's journey to get that book to print. The long and winding maze that brings frustration, disappointment and heartbreak before jubilation. I don't think the general public realizes how much heart and soul goes into toiling for weeks, months and years to do something that is a passion. It has to be a passion or it would be just plain insanity!

I have discovered, over the last four years, what it's like to be living with a passionate, creative person. I feel the frustration and disappointments right along with her. I also feel my own disappointments and frustrations, even jealousy.

Disappointment when I come home after work and find she is on a creative roll, I know I'll have to wait longer to enjoy her company.

Frustration when that may be the case for days or weeks.

Jealousy when writing becomes another partner that demands all her time.

I can sympathize with others who are in the same position as I am, but I can also hope that they enjoy being there as much as I do.

I have discovered that there is no where else I would rather be. I enjoy being with someone who is so full of life and I am totally in love with my beautiful, creative writer.

Sylvanus Now Contest: The Reasons

Here is the second of today's entries.

The Reasons
by
George Carveth

My friend and I chat through the night into the early morning. We talk about everything, anything. After a particularly spell-binding conversation I found I could not go to sleep until I had written a poem, something I'd not done for a long while. After a bit of polishing off it goes and the ensuing conversation revolves around writing.

Do I write?

No, not really anymore.

Why not?

Nervous laugh: defense mechanism. That question's as difficult as answering why I started writing in the first place.

As a child I loved to draw -- I loved colors to be exact. My father was blind and what good were my drawings to him? Was it that simple: a boy seeking his father's approval, looking to communicate in the most effective manner possible? Is there a better reason? Maybe there is no reason. I just happened to have away with words and enjoyed playing with them, more so than with toys--though I loved toys very much.

Ideas, however, did not break, but grew, took on a life of their own. Their articulation was limitless to me, unlike G.I. Joe, who couldn't even straighten his fingers.

And so, there are two of perhaps many reasons I began to write, though where the truth lies is up to the reader to decide: I became more concerned with tone, images. I continued to write, fill volumes of notebooks, all through high school and into college. Looking through them now, I cringe mostly and laugh sometimes. I laugh again when I think that I was convinced that I would be a writer -- a poet to be precise, after I graduated.

I was editor of the college literary magazine, The Writers' Revue. And what happened after college? I became a printer for the next fifteen years, scribbling verses frantically, albeit with less frequency, throughout my breaks and lunches. I fell in love a couple times in those years. I drank and fought, became a parent in those years. I wrote less frequently.

Why did I stop? I honestly don't know; but if I did I probably wouldn't admit the reason. Why don't I call my friends more often? Why aren't I a better person? As you've read above -- I'm more concerned with other things.

Sylvanus Now Contest: Payin' for your Raising

As today is the final day of the contest, I will post any entries received.

This one is from Travis Erwin, a big Texan with a heart for women's fiction. This was originally published on his blog in May, but there was no rule against that. (I don't like having a lot of rules -- as a general rule.)

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Payin' For Your Raising
by
Travis Erwin

I've decided that writing a novel is a whole lot like becoming a parent. As I get serious on my, as-yet-untitled fourth novel, (all unpublished at this point) I am reminded just how tough the process can be.

Conception - This is the fun and exciting part. Daydreaming and coming up with story ideas is as exciting and blissful as sex. Every plot, or potential child, is full of potential. With every new idea and twist and turn I interject I can visualize literary agents beating down my door, editors vying for the rights, book clubs and Oprah clamoring to read my words, best-seller lists. Hollywood itching to convert my manuscript into film. Would be parents, visualize their unborn as the next Einstein, or Payton Manning, or Bill Gates, future president, or (feel free to insert hero or heroine of your choice). No writer sees his book as just another rejection letter and no parent sees his child as a crack addict.

Birth - Reality sets in when that great idea hits the paper in the form of words sentences and paragraphs. Or when you have to slip out of a nice warm bed to comfort a crying baby at three in the morning. Then you realize that some of the stuff in your head just doesn't work in print. You stare at your first couple of pages and say this is crap. The stench makes you gag like a first time dad changing a dirty diaper. Oh, but there are those moments. That one great metaphor you come up with, or that exciting new dimension to one of your characters. It's kind of like that first time your child reaches up of their own will and touches your face. You realize -- Hey, I created this and the cockles of your heart turn all warm and fuzzy. What is a cockle anyway?

Terrible Two's - Okay, so a manuscript can't throw itself on the floor kicking and screaming. It can't yell no and kick you in the shin. But a novel in the beginning stages of life can be unruly just the same. Characters that do not develop the way you envisioned. Secondary characters who develop too well and threaten to override their supposed stronger and more interesting rivals, YOUR PROTAGONISTS. Plots can suddenly wither and stop growing. Complications arise that make your entire storyline implausible or simply ridiculous. Like a young child testing the boundaries this first rough draft stage is a writers test to see if they remain focused and take a story from beginning to end.

Going to School - Potty training is over. You've laid the groundwork for you baby but now it's time to send them out in the world. Kindergarten or critique group. First grade or a contest entry. Is it any harder to have somebody say I hate your heroine and the plot doesn't make sense, than it is to hear your child bit little Timmy Smith, or I had to send him to time out because he refused to sit down and listen? But just as you child needs the attention and guidance of classroom so does your novel. That is not to say you want a teacher to raise your child, or someone else to write your novel, but sometimes it takes that objective unbiased person to take a look and say this needs to be changed.

Graduation - I haven't gotten this far with my own children as they are still young, but I can imagine how proud I'll feel when it does happen. I have experienced that surge of pride of finishing a novel. Three as a matter of fact. It is quite an accomplishment to hoist that four hundred page stack of paper after it has gone through my critique group and half a dozen readers, and say I did it. I finished a novel. That is when it is time to send it out in the world on its own via query letters to agents.

I'm Only Guessing - Just as my children have not reached the graduation stage yet my novels have not progressed beyond the solicitation stage. But I correlate getting an agent with being accepted into a college. Sure there are the Ivy League of literary agents and then there the community junior college ranks of agents. I'd stay away from the online technical and vocational agents since they are likely to charge you fees for things such as editing and what not. Then I'd associate an editor as grad school and so forth. I think you get my idea. So you send your little charge out in the world and if you are talented, lucky, and persistent it is accepted, everyone loves the little guy and before you know you are grandparent. Yes, that truly is how a sequel is born.

Sylvanus Now Contest: What writing means to me

Here's a submission from JK, my blogging buddy from Florida. You can find him here.

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What writing means to me
by JK

Chances are you're going to read this and conclude that my story isn't unique. I'm o.k. with that. I'm not pretending to solve any great mysteries of the universe. The great western philosopher George Carlin once said (or something like it), "Even if I'm one in a million, there are a thousand people just like me." Even if my story isn't new, I hope it bears repeating.

You could say that without writing, I wouldn't be the person I am today. I know that's an awfully strong statement. You might think it's an exaggeration.

It's not.

Growing up I was the shy, quiet kid who wished he could blend in with the background. I didn't think fast on my feet, I often had the wrong thing to say on the tip of my tongue, and I didn't make fast friends. Kids can be cruel, and I tended to be the defenseless sap who made an easy target.

Alright, it wasn't quite as bad as it sounds. I had a few friends in the neighborhood. Growing up in "God's Waiting-room" (Florida in the '80s) had it's advantages. Since there weren't many kids around, most kids couldn't be choosy about their friends. The handful of kids in my neighborhood were stuck with me.

If being a kid was hard, high school was worse. A couple of those neighborhood friends found a better friend in drugs. A couple more found better, more interesting friends in girls (and who blame them?). I had a few high school crushes myself, but I didn't have the courage to do anything about them. By my junior year I felt like a poster-boy for teen angst, and I started losing interest in school. When it was time to sign up for classes for my senior year, I decided I was tired of advanced classes. It was time to do a little coasting. I was tempted to fill my schedule with fluff, the classes the other eighty percent were taking.

I don't remember how it started, but somehow I got into a conversation after class with Mr. Brown, my A.P. American History teacher. I probably hadn't said more than a few words to my teachers all year (beyond "here" at roll call), so it seemed odd he would pull me aside to talk. Registration for next year came up, I told him my plans (with half-hearted justification), and he was disappointed. I don't remember his exact words, but he said something to the effect of: "John, that would be a real shame. I always look forward to reading your essays on my exams. You don't always get all of your facts right, but you're a good bullshitter. The way you write, you'd do well in college. It would be a shame if you didn't at least try." My first thought was, does it take one to know one? But Mr. Brown wasn't the kind of teacher who gave out a lot of praise in class, so his words stuck. (Hopefully he won't get the chance to read this and take it back.) It gave me just enough of a boost to keep going, to try... at least a little.

My senior year of high school came, and I developed a big crush on my anatomy lab partner. After performing major surgery on a dead cat for a semester and a half with this girl, I decided my last chance at happiness in life was slipping by. I didn't think she was dating anyone at school, so I pulled together all of my self confidence and asked her out to prom. As it turned out she wasn't dating anyone at school... she was dating someone at another school... and I was crushed.

Prom came and went, and the girl that had become one of my best friends continued to date some mystery guy. I cursed fate. I couldn't help but wonder if my fear had caused me to put off asking her out, missing my one chance at happiness. (Wasn't being a teenager hell?) Before we graduated and parted ways (perhaps forever), I felt like I had to tell her how I felt. Anyone can ask a girl out to prom. All it requires is a pinch of interest and a little courage. With teenage wisdom at my side, I decided that I should lay it all down on the table. Ah, but I couldn't trust my voice to get it all out, so I sat down to write. I stayed up late one night, pouring out my heart and soul onto a half a dozen sheets of notebook paper. I attached a cover sheet to my little essay, calling it: Life as I Know It. I asked her to read it in class the next day. Now to be clear, I didn't want her to read it IN class. I thought she'd just take it home and read it at her leisure... preferably sometime when I wasn't around. It was all part of my cunning plan... give it to her right before a lecture started so she'd have to put it away, and hopefully forget about it for a while. Shows how much I knew about people, girls, and this girl in particular. She flipped the cover, dove right in, and I was horrified. I wanted to chicken out. I wanted to take it all back. I wanted to get back on the cliff after I'd already jumped. I was sure I'd made a terrible mistake by putting my thoughts down on paper; a permanent record of my feelings... laying myself bare. This was a level of trust I hadn't shared with anyone, and I was sharing it with a girl who had pledged her affection to someone else.

She finished reading it and said it was nice. NICE? Nice is for friends in class, not soul-mates. Once again I was crushed. Once again I felt I had foolishly brought it upon myself. I felt like I was a victim of every after school special I'd ever seen.

We remained friends, but after graduation we did go our separate ways. I went away to school, to one of the big state universities, and she stayed home to go the local junior college (due to cost, not ability). She continued to date the other guy, but we still got together every couple months when I was home visiting family (yeah, sure I was). Sometimes we went out with other friends, other times it was just us. She talked about marriage, and I thought about jealousy. She talked about her fights with the other guy, and I played the role of the good friend, as I thought it should be played... often explaining why I thought their latest love spat was nothing to worry about. Oh the humanity! More than a year went by this way.

One weekend she came up with a friend for a college football game. We spent the day together with friends, and afterwards I drove her home. On the way she said something that rocked the foundation of my life. While I know now that I came from a loving home, being young makes it easy to ignore what you have... and I felt unloved and unwanted. She said something that night changed it all. She asked me if I still felt the way I did back in high school, when I wrote "that thing." It was a loaded question... and it went off.

We've been married for thirteen years now and have two wonderful children. She's the love of my life.

While I don't think of myself as much of a writer, and I don't count on it for my livelihood (nor do I aspire to), writing has been a big part of my life. It's possible that this is really a story about overcoming fear, the difficulties of adolescence, or the influence good (and bad) teachers can have over our lives. But as I look back, writing was one of the things that didn't let me down. It brought me a little self confidence when I was lacking. It helped me open up to someone when I was too shy to do it in person. (My wife says it saved her from marrying a jerk.) From my earliest journals to blogging, It has been like another friend. It was always there when I needed it. It always listened and it never judged. It was my conduit to the world when I was too afraid to engage it in person.

I wonder what my life would have been like if a teacher hadn't thought to compliment me on my writing. I wonder if I would have gotten the attention of that girl in high school.

Even if all of this is slightly exaggerated, at a minimum I think writing helped me find my out of my shell. Life's been a wild ride since (by my standards anyway ;-)

Sylvanus Now Contest: Pen and Ink

Here is Carla's submission for the contest. Carla is a member of my writers' group and I'm delighted to have met her.

_____________________

Pen and Ink
by
Carla Taylor

Pen Whew! I just licked the envelope to seal my congratulatory note to friends who recently became grandparents. My right hand is cramped and sore…it hasn’t held a pen much in the past weeks, months, can it be years? My handwriting looked more like scrawl than the lovely swirls we practiced back in grade school…in the 1950’s. Do they still do that? Anyway, my friends-who-hate-email will soon have a heartfelt hand-scribbled message in their lovely brass mailbox that hangs next to their front door…much prettier than the Inbox to which most daily mail is sent these days, mine included.

I jumped on the email train as soon as my kids set up the computer, turned it on, and clicked on Outlook Express for me. Eventually, I learned to do all that myself. And then I emailed everyone I knew…actually badgered friends to get email addresses. Over time, I realized that I was no longer writing full sentences or trying to keep thoughts together in paragraphs. I could pass on information or set up a lunch date in quick phrases…efficient, time-saving, and convenient.

When, however, it comes time to ‘snail mail’ a proper Thank You note, or add a personal thought to a birthday card...my Mother drilled these niceties into me as I grew up way back in the mid twentieth century…both my composition skills and the execution of words by hand onto paper are a daunting challenge.

I started my fiction writing years ago with a lovely Shaeffer cartridge pen and nice clean thick lined pads of paper. Sometimes now when I reread some of those pages, I sigh at the neatly scribed words (even the cross-outs are legible!) flowing down those pages. I’m not sure why I’ve kept them for they are definitely not literary masterpieces. Perhaps they’re just gentle reminders of the beginnings of my journey to author a book worthy of sharing. Now I have several partially-finished works stored in My Documents where I keep them as I’m creating them on my computer. I still have writing pads and lots of pens. Maybe for their aura and good vibes? I think, though, that my pride and joy…that finally finished manuscript…will roll neatly out of my three-in-one printer. I really hope that it’s soon.

Sylvanus Now Contest: The doubties

Here is the next entry in the Sylvanus Now Contest sent in by my dear friend, Becca. Becca is the kind of friend I can call (I haven't yet, but know I could) at 3 a.m. (okay with the time zone difference that'd only be 10 p.m. her time, but you know what I mean) and cry and rant about some new heartache and she'd be supportive even though she'd know that in a month I'd have forgotten all about it. I miss the days when she lived closer and I could jump in my car for a 12-hour road trip to do the same. We'd sit on her front porch drinking beer and watching the river flow by.... But I digress.

Becca is also a new blogger. You can catch her at: http://jedsmommy.blogspot.com/ (or Don't get me started...)

_________________________________

The Doubties
by
Becca Luczycki

I was not doing it for the attention then, and I am not now…

When I was in college, by roommate used to accuse me of saying my writing sucked and I wasn’t sure what kind of grade I would get on a paper I had just handed in, just for the attention. “You know you always do well,” she said, “Just stop saying that.” It used to piss her off because she could spend twice as much time are me and not do well.

And I did always do well. Well, a large majority of the time. But I wasn’t saying it for attention or affect (or even effect, whichever one is correct there). Every time I handed something in, the “Doubties” would immediately start to clamor at the back of my brain.
You know them, you’ve heard them too; They scratch at your cerebellum and whisper stuff like “It sucks, it really does, you just thought it was good while it was spewing out of your fingertips and into the typewriter” (Yes, I had a typewriter in college, didn’t get a computer until grad school and even then it was DOS-operated).

It still happens to me now. I finish a piece for work and the minute I hand it over to the other editors I start to get anxious, even if I sent it to a very good and honest friend and took it home for my man to read to first, and they both told me it was very good, I still worry until I see that A grade (or these days, until I see very few scribbled comments when it comes back form my colleagues.

What IS that? Why can’t I (why can’t we all) just understand that if we are doing this for a living, or hoping to one day, that we are probably pretty good at it? Why can’t we just tell ourselves, okay, it might need some revision but overall it’s pretty darn good? Why can’t we be proud of ourselves without external validation?

Geez, now I am about to hit the send key on this and I am wondering if it’s what Colleen was looking for when she started this contest, if the other blog readers will agree, if I am really supposed to participate because I write for a living but not fiction…? Anyone need any extra Doubties? I’ve got some to spare.

Sylvanus Now Contest: Racing across the paper

The next submission for the Syvanus Now Contest is from Caitlin. Her poem reminds me of what being 15 (or almost 15) was like. It is a gift to remember.

This is about her first experience reading her work in front of an audience. It took place at a writers' workshop taught by Ami McKay last month at Ross Creek Centre for the Arts.

Racing across the paper
by Caitlin Peace-Williams

I'm so nervous. My hands are shaky and sweaty. Ami calls my name and I stand up, knees knocking together. I slowly walk to the stool and sit down. I take several deep breaths and start to read.

My voice wobbles at first. I stop and take another breath. I start again.

Tears are pouring down my face in terror, but I continue reading. I pause to wipe the tears off my face and Diane comes and hugs me.

"Thanks" I whisper. I start to read again. I remember the time I spent writing my poem. My pencil racing across the paper, thinking about it. I love writing.

I finish my poem and everyone claps. I walk as quickly as I can off the stage and I am enveloped in hugs from my whole camp. We stand there for a moment embracing. We break apart and the next person goes up. I cry for a few more minutes. I’m so proud of myself. I did it!

This is the poem I read:

Caitlin: An Inventory of Being.

I am Caitlin
I am almost fifteen
I am free-spirited
A person

My favorite color is blue
sky blue, ocean blue, just blue
My favorite piece of art is art itself

I love dancing in the rain
and slow dancing
but no other kinds of dancing
I love to watch people dancing

I love reading
I would read constantly if I could
But I can’t
I love drinking tea on sunny afternoons

I love slipping into a pair
of warm underwear,
hot from the dryer
its like a blanket for my butt

I love playing catch with my dog
her expression as
she brings back the ball
is priceless

I am boy crazy
my room is plastered
with Orlando Bloom posters
his face watching me

I am musical
singing like there's no tomorrow
I am creative in the kitchen
My works of art disappearing into my mouth

Your hair is like honey
my mother told me once
it’s soft and clean
and frizzy sometimes

My life is like a merry go round
always moving, turning, spinning
sometimes stopping for a moment
I am forgetful

I am a Peter Parker in
a field of superheroes
I am always laughing
loud, silent, loud and silent at the same time

My humor is my own
with my parents humor incorporated
my parents lame humor
incorporated

I love kisses, sweet kisses
on the cheek from my girlfriends
good night kisses, good morning kisses
Kisses-till-your-lips-are-sore kisses

I love sailing the smells
the sounds the taste of
salt air in my mouth
the feel of wind in my hair

I love running, the thump
of my shoes, the dog’s tag jingling,
her paws padding the road
I always get my ideas running

My favorite quote is
"The greatest thing you'llever learn is just to
love and be loved in return"

The saddest movie
I've ever seen is the Titanic
I cried for an hour,
love stories make me cry

I wear what ever I want,
I wear the physics tie because I feel like it
I have a shirt that says "I'm not opinionated,
I’m just always right"

My belly button is adorned
with a pink and silver ring,
it reflects the light
when I go sunbathing

My biggest secret is one
I can’t tell you – It’s something
I promised not to do
I haven't broken my promise

Sometimes I’m a stranger
to my self. I like to be alone;
I like to daydream; I like
curling up with my teddy bear on rainy afternoons

I love watching Jane Austen movies with my Mum,
and listening to my Dad play guitar.
I like watching my sisters jump on our trampoline

I like to watch people
I like to watch people watch TV
I like to watch my eyes in a mirror
I like soft music

I like pretending to listen to music
while actually listening to peoples’conversations
I like hot showers

I love skinny dipping
late at night and
early in the morning
I like getting dressed up to go to the movies

I love going to sleep
listening to the ocean
I like going camping in
Cape Breton

I love going swimming
the cool water washing over me
I like going in hot tubs
and having girl talks

I like talking on the
phone for hours,
talking about problems,
listening to problems

I remember why
I did the things I regret.
I love Dragon Flies

Sylvanus Now Contest: Ten Thousand Hours

Here is the first entry for the Sylvanus Now Contest. It's by Gail Lethbridge, a wonderful writer and columnist with the Chronicle Herald. She can be found hanging out here.

Thank you, Gail! Your name is in the draw.
____________________________

Ten Thousand Hours
by
Gail Lethbridge

Cognitive neuroscientists estimate that it takes 10,000 hours of practice to achieve mastery over an artistic endeavor like music or writing.

Let's do the math on this. Ten thousand hours is 416 days if you work 24/7. That is just over a year and one month of nothing but writing. No time for sleep, breaks or eating, just writing.

Clearly this is not possibe, so let's break it down further. Say you worked eight hours per day with no break or lunch. This would mean that 10,000 would take you 1,250 days to complete. That is almost three and a half years with no weekends, holidays or days off. (Aren't online caculators great.)

Perhaps this would be possible for the aspiring writer who is single minded and brutally dedicated.

But what about the aspiring writer with a job, a young family, a partner, friends and extra curricular activities? Short of breaking the space-time continuum, how does this writer carve those 8 hours out of the busy life?

Even four hours or two hours per day would be a stretch the writer who juggles a life. And with each compromise, the 10,000 hours will take that much longer, seven years, 14 years, 20 years.
If the mathematics of this seems mind boggling, then think about the ergonomics of those 10,000 hours. How would your back, neck and shoulders feel after that much time hunched over a computer? What about the stinging eyes? The numb fingers?

And if that's not enough, think of the economics. Divide the annual wage of a writer into 10,000 hours and work out the hourly rate. On second thought, don't do that.

But even if you could manage the math, the ergonomics and the economics of the 10,000 hours, what about the problem - the central paradox - of balancing life with writing?

Is it not the family, the job, the partner, the friends and the extra curricular activities that provide the material for the writing? If a writer sacrifices any or all of these these non-writerly activities in order to lock herself away in a small room and write, is she not sacrificing the very heart and soul of her writing?

What would she write about? Writing? That's depressing and even moreso given the purpose of this contest.

Of course, this paradox is not complete. If it were, there would be no writing, or at least no writing worth reading.

It's self-defeating to think of those 10,000 hours. And it's self-defeating to think of the math and the ergonomics and the economics. But they are truths; the hard, miserable truths of writing.

And still, we write. I wonder why?

The Sylvanus Now Contest

All right my darlings... as my autumn equinox gift to you all, I'm launching a contest.

For those of you who haven't met her yet, I'd like to introduce you to Donna Morrissey. (If you have already been introduced to Donna's work, you are welcome to join in too.)

I am offering a copy of Sylvanus Now -- already ordered for you in trade paper -- to some lucky person.

All you have to do is write something about writing. Easy right? It doesn't matter what. It could be why you write or why you don't, something about the business, the importance of written language, the lost art of letter writing, why you hate communicating through email... whatever. You don't have to be a self-described writer to enter either.

Minimum: 250 words; maximum: as long as you'd like (within reason; let's not get crazy.)

Contest opens right now and closes on September 29, 2007 at midnight (Atlantic time)

All entries will be posted.

All entrants will have their names dropped into a hat and drawn on the 30th. If you win, I'll email you and you'll have to provide an address where I can send you the book.

Please send your entries to me at ideas.chg.world@ns.sympatico.ca. (This is an old account I don't use, so only your lovely entries will go there.)

In case you need further enticement, here's some information on Sylvanus Now, copied from Penguin.

"The time is the 1950s, and the place is Canada’s Atlantic coast at the edge of the great Newfoundland fishing banks. Sylvanus Now is a young fisherman of great charm and strength. His youthful desires are simple: he wants a suit to lure a girl—the fine-boned beauty Adelaide—and he knows exactly how much fish he has to catch to pay for it. Adelaide, however, has other dreams. She longs to escape the sea, the fish, and the stultifying community, but her need of refuge from her own troubled family leads her to Sylvanus and life in the neighbouring outport.

"Set against the love story of Addie and Sylvanus is the sea, the Great Mother that is on the cusp of cataclysmic change. Caught between his desire to please his wife and his strongly independent nature, Sylvanus must decide what path his future will take."

Commonwealth Writers Prize: Shortlist 2006
Thomas Head Raddall Fiction Award: Winner 2006
Atlantic Book Awards - Booksellers' Choice Award: Winner 2006

So get writing, have fun and Happy Equinox!
Colleen

Interview with Maya Reynolds

Maya Reynolds is an award-wining author, earning kudos for her romantic suspense and thriller novels. Her novella, You’ve Been a Bad Girl, was developed into a full-length manuscript and released on September 4 under the title, Bad Girl. It is a work of erotic suspense.

CG: Thanks for taking time away from promoting Bad Girl to talk to us about your life as a writer. How exciting is it to see your book in print?

MR: Thanks for having me, Colleen. It’s a pleasure to be here.

I have to say it’s pretty amazing to walk into a bookstore and see MY book on a shelf. It’s even better when I see that, of the four books they ordered, only one is left .

CG: What are you doing to promote your book and what is your schedule is like during
the launch?

MR: I have a full-time job so my book-promoting efforts are scheduled around that. I have three books signings this month at various Barnes & Noble stores in the Dallas area. I also have a number of speaking engagements lined up at writers’ groups and clubs. In addition, I maintain a daily presence online.

CG: I’m always fascinated by the diverse backgrounds many writers have. According to your website, you’ve been a teacher, a stockbroker, a psychiatric social worker and a crisis team interventionist. You make the rest of us look like underachievers! How did you go from one job to the other and what led you to writing?

MR: I was one of those people who knew I wanted to write early, but didn’t have the self-confidence to do anything about it at first. I trained to be a high school teacher. During the summer, I took a job at a stock brokerage house, fell in love with it and stayed. The company, Smith Barney, transferred me to Texas where I earned my brokerage license.

After about ten years, I got restless and quit my job to “find myself.” My plan was to try my hand at writing. I wrote and sold a number of short stories, but still didn’t have the discipline to write a full-length novel.

I returned to graduate school and spent three years earning my MSW (Masters in Social Work). During that time, I was selected to be a part of the first psychiatric crisis team in Dallas. The experience was invaluable. Once I had my professional license, I started the first psychiatric crisis team for children and adolescents in Dallas County. I later ran six public mental health clinics for both children and adults before becoming the vice president for operations for public mental health in Dallas County.

In 2003, I decided to try writing full-time and see if I could finish a novel. Between 2003 and 2005, I wrote three novels. Bad Girl sold in 2006 about the same time my insurance situation became untenable. Last December, I started back to work full-time (with fabulous medical insurance) and now write in the early morning, or during evenings and weekends.

CG: (Inner dialogue: Holy crap! I feel like even more of an underachiever now, but I must carry on. Here goes...) You live in Texas now, but where did you grow up and what brought you to Texas?

MR: I was born in Queens, one of the five boroughs of New York City. My family moved to Florida when I was in fifth grade. I grew up and went to college there. Smith Barney transferred me to Dallas when I was twenty-five.

CG: As someone who has never been there, Texas, especially Dallas seems to be the home of big hair and sparkle. Does it live up to its image? How did you fit in?

MR: It took quite a bit of time for me to adjust to living in Texas, but I’d find it difficult to live anywhere else now. The people are the kindest I’ve ever met. In my years here, I have never had a flat tire without someone stopping to help within five minutes of my pulling off the road. Texas hospitality is very real.

I’m not much of a big hair and sparkle gal. I keep my hair very short, wash it in the morning and let the curls dry on my head without using a dryer. When my cat Bob hasn’t made off with my earrings, I do wear sparkles in my ears, but that’s about it.

CG: Let’s talk about writing. Describe the writing and publication of Bad Girl for us. When did the writing begin? How much time did you spend on it? How did your novella grow to a full-length novel? How much time was there from the time you got your publishing deal to release date?

MR: Wow! That’s a big order. Bad Girl started as an exercise in a writing class in February 2005. I felt good about it and entered it in the Just Erotic Romance Reviews contest later that spring.

I was thrilled when it won second prize and Ellora’s Cave (an e-publisher) requested the full in August. The only problem was I hadn’t finished it yet because I was working on something else. It was another month or two before I completed it as a 45K-word manuscript and submitted it.

Before I heard back from Ellora’s Cave, Jacky Sach of BookEnds Literary Agency offered me representation in early 2006. She sold the story to NAL Heat (a division of Penguin) in mid-2006. The only catch was that they wanted a full-length novel. They gave me until December to finish it. Then it was another nine months before it was published.

CG: Jacky Sach from BookEnds Literary Agency is your agent. Tell us about your query letter. What made it stand out from the rest to garner Jacky’s attention?

MR: You’d probably have to ask Jacky to be sure, but I wrote a very professional, business-like letter. I just went back and pulled my description of the manuscript:

Sandy Davis, the protagonist of my novella, is a shy, lonely teacher who has been spying on her high-rise neighbors with a telescope for months. One night, she receives a telephone call from an anonymous male saying, "You've been a bad girl, Alexandra Davis." Sandy must decide whether to capitulate to her blackmailer's demands or risk the consequences of being exposed as a voyeur.

CG: Many of us have been filled with fear that a formatting error can cost us a publishing deal. In your opinion, how necessary is perfect formatting?

MR: This is one of the things that writers obsess about unnecessarily. Use a well-known font like Times New Roman 12 or Courier 12, with one-inch margins and double-space and don’t worry about it. You’ll be fine.

CG: In Canada, it still seems to be possible to get published without an agent. Is that the case in the U.S.?

MR: If you’re going with a regional press or a smaller press, it’s still possible. If you’re querying one of the six or seven big New York houses, it’s less likely.

The problem is the sheer volume of queries today. Publishers use agents to vet the queries. It saves on time and staffing because the number of queries is staggering.
As an example, last December, agent Kirsten Nelson reported on her statistics for 2006. She said she’d received 20,800 queries last year. Of those, she requested 54 full manuscripts.

That means she read 400 queries and slightly more than one full manuscript each and every week of the year. And, for all that work, she accepted eight new clients.

CG: Were edits requested from either your agent or the publisher? If so, what was that process like?

MR: I was very worried because I had to add more than 20K words to the manuscript. I made an outline of where I thought I could make the additions, and Jacky was a big help with that. I emailed it to Tracy Bernstein, my editor at NAL Heat (a division of Penguin), expecting a long, drawn out process of back and forth. To my delight, Tracy said she liked it. The two biggest changes she requested were for me to change my heroine’s profession and to change the title.

Jacky had said that Tracy had a light hand, and I would love her. She was right. I agreed with all of her suggestions. In fact, when I was re-reading it recently, I had trouble telling which changes were Tracy’s and which were mine.

CG: Any tips for new writers on landing an agent or a publisher?

MR: Start early, making a list of potential agents. Whenever you hear about a possible agent who accepts work in your genre, jot the name and information down. Then check out the website and google the name. By the time, you finish your manuscript, you should have a list of qualified agents in your genre. I also subscribed to Publishers Marketplace, which has a terrific database of agents, including the sales they’ve reported.

Q: Would you like to add any other advice for pre-published authors?
Start thinking of yourself as a professional writer. When you do that, it influences your decisions. Introduce yourself as a writer, set time aside for your writing, and don’t let your family and friends intrude upon that time. My friends had difficulty with the fact that I wouldn’t just drop everything and go out to lunch or shopping with them because--after all--I was at home. I started telling everyone that I checked messages at noon and again at 4:00 PM. It took a while for them to respect that, but they eventually did.

CG: Best of luck with Bad Girl. Perhaps you can drop by later and let us know how the book is doing.

MR: I’d love to. Thank you for having me.

______________________________

Hope you've enjoyed this interview -- and Maya's book -- as much as I have. If you have any other questions for her, please post away!

Colleen

Nuggets of gold

One of the untold joys of sitting in a doctor's waiting room and thumbing through ancient magazines are the forgotten news nuggets one can mine.

I, for example, discovered yesterday a health condition from which I am never going to suffer. At mid-life, finding such a thing is gold. I know all the stuff I'm at risk of, but, my friends, I can tell you that I'll never suffer from orthorexia nervosa -- an obsession with health food.

"In 1997, Dr. Bratman coined the term 'orthorexia nervosa' to describe a condition he'd seen in some of his patients: obsession with healthy diet to such an extent that it seemed to him like an eating disorder."

From the 2001 issue of Canadian Living, here is Dr. Bratman's 10-question quiz to determine if you're at risk. If you answer 'yes' to two or three, you have a touch of orthorexia. Four or more and you're in trouble. In the interests of full disclosure, here are my answers.

1. Do you spend more than three hours a day thinking bout healthy food? (For four hours, give yourself two points.)
Yes. Oh, was that healthy food? Oh. Well, no.

2. Do you plan tomorrow's food today?
If I could plan today's food today, we wouldn't own shares in Kraft peanut butter.

3. Do you care more about the virtue of what you eat than the pleasure you receive from eating it?
Is this a serious question? I don't even stop to consider my own virtue let alone that of whatever I'm stuffing into my mouth.

4. Have you found that as the quality of your diet has increased, the quality of your life has correspondingly diminished?
Has the quality of my food ever increased? Hmmm. I'll have to get back to you on this one.

5. Do you keep getting stricter with yourself?
Definitely. Why only yesterday, I limited myself to one date square instead of two.

6. Do you sacrifice experiences you once enjoyed to eat the food you believe is right?
I believe Ambrose Bierce said it best: "Self-denial is indulgence of a propensity to forego."

7. Do you feel an increased sense of self-esteem when you are eating healthy food? Do you look down on other who do not?
The only way I could ever look down on someone who ate less-healthy food than me would be if they subsisted on a diet made up entirely of deep-fried pork rinds. I do, on occasion, quaff a V-8, after all... There, I did just feel a tad superior.

8. Do you feel guilt or self-loathing when you stray from your diet?
Diet? What diet?

9. Does your diet socially isolate you from others?
Only if they insist on eating only healthy foods.

10. When you are eating the way you are supposed to, do you feel a peaceful sense of total control?
Eat the way I'm supposed to? As determined by whom? A peaceful sense of total control? Is it possible to feel at peace and in total control at the same time? I don't undertand the question.

______________________
I passed!

No orthoriexia nervosa here.

Have a great day,
Colleen

Writers' News

Hi

Today will be a quick post. I'm on chauffeur duty to bring Pat to two appointments with doctors and my son to his volunteer duties with the Atlantic Film Festival. Tonight is Girl's Night and my last one with a friend who is relocating back to Ontario. I will miss her and her husband. I'll try not to be too sad.

So, on to news about and for local writers...

Donna Morrissey has completed her manuscript. Watch for a release as early as Spring '08.

Ami McKay's Birth House is being released in paperback in the U.S. on October 9.

Carol Bruneau is launching her newest book, Glass Visions this Wednesday at Frog Hollow Books in Halifax. The book's official release date is the end of this month. (Carol is the author of Purple for Sky, published in the U.S. as A Purple Thread for Sky -- "In the U.S., Booklist praised it as a 'hilarious, moving and poetic book.' Kirkus called it 'a refreshingly unsentimental debut... deeply original in style.' In Canada, Purple for Sky was included in The Globe and Mail's 'Best Books of 2000' and recommended by Pamela Wallin on the CBC's Canada Reads and as a prime pick on her Chapters website. ")

A reminder that Friday is the deadline for application for the Writer's Federation Mentorship program.

On the international front, watch for the Maya Reynolds' interview this Friday.

Have a great day everyone... I gotta scoot,
Colleen

I'm back

How lovely to come back to your birthday greetings and well wishes for Pat's surgery. Thank you.

I've been away at Keji (Kejimkujik National Park) for the annual "Not-Back-to-School" camping trip and at the hospital with Pat who had arthroscopy on Friday. Yesterday was a veg day although my son and I caught a short play at the Fringe Festival in the afternoon. His play-writing teacher was directing This is a Play and it was hilarious. Daniel McIvor write the 30-minute play that treats audiences to the inner dialogue of the actors onstage: their petty criticisms of each other, their flubbed lines, their self-congratulations. It was quiet entertaining.

For now, I must get to work. I have a number of short stories to comment on for my writing group tomorrow.

I hope you are all well and have ordered your copies of Maya Reynolds' Bad Girl. (It's your opportunity to pay-it-forward because someday it'll be your book being released.) I read my copy on Thursday night and oh la la! it was most definitely spicy. The story literally races along from the first line and the tension builds to the frightening climax (no pun intended) when the plucky heroine... oh, I'm not going to spoil it for you... you'll have to read it yourself.

Congratulations to Maya on what I hope is the first of many successful novels.

Colleen

Bad Girl is out!

There's only one thing hotter than doing something you shouldn't.

Getting caught.
____________________________________

Maya Reynolds' Bad Girl hits stores today and I encourage you to order your copy. It's exciting when a fellow blogger is published and I'm readying myself to step into the world of erotic fiction. As a matter of fact, I'm already thinking about Christmas and whose stockings I can fill with this steamy romance.

In Canada, you can order Bad Girl here or here.

Watch this column over the coming weeks for an interview with Maya and a review of her book. In the meantime, here's a teaser and a few words from Maya about her choice of genre.
____________________________________

Bad Girl

Feeling a little naughty?

You should.

It was shy social worker Sandy Davis's favorite after-dark hobby, and only vice--spying on neighbors during their most uninhibited moments. Night after night, through each different window, into each anonymous dark bedroom came the stuff of Sandy 's wildest fantasies.

Peeping didn't hurt anyone. It was just a game. No one ever had to know. Then one night came a phone call...

“You've been a bad girl."

He calls himself Justice. He has a pastime too. Watching Sandy watch others. He has the pictures to prove it. Now it's his turn to play--by making Sandy pay the price in exchange for holding on to her naughty little secret.

As the sensual dance between two strangers begins, so does Sandy 's fear that she's moving closer to the edge of extreme desire-and inescapable danger.

Excerpt:

"Can you see me now?" she asked.
"I see you perfectly. Strip for me, Sandy."
A shiver on anticipation rushed through her body.
"Come on, baby. Don't be afraid."
She put her fingers on the first button of her blouse, slowly undoing it. Her fingers slid to the second button...and the third.
"Honey," he grumbled, "if you don't hurry up and take that damn blouse off, I'm gonna come down there and rip it off you myself."
She smiled, pleased to know she had some power over him, after all.

She was in charge now, not him. It was time to make him understand that.

Interview -- Sneak Peak:

Colleen: Maya, of all the genres, why erotic fiction?

Maya: Like many girls, I started out reading romance novels as a teenager. Those novels helped me explore my feelings about men and dating.

By the time I graduated from college, I’d lost interest in reading romances. What had once seemed so exciting was now formulaic and quaint. I was tired of all those virgins being seduced by more experienced heroes, and wanted to read about assertive females who weren’t afraid of their sexuality. I abandoned romances for mysteries or fantasies with strong heroines.

The turning point for me came a few years ago when I picked up a copy of Robin Schone’s The Lady’s Tutor while I was out of town on business. I stayed up the entire night in my hotel room, reading that novel. I had discovered the erotic romance.

The next morning, bleary-eyed at the meetings I was attending, I found myself thinking, “I could write in that genre.”

I began looking for more of the same. At that point in time, it was hard to find an erotic romance in the bookstore. You had to go online and buy an e-book.

I went looking for a support group for writers of erotic romance. There wasn’t one, but I soon heard about a group starting up. I joined them and ended up becoming one of the founders of Passionate Ink in the summer of 2005. Within two weeks, we had 400 writers.

Remember the American West of the 1880’s? Vibrant and lawless? I think of the erotic romance genre that way. ER writers throw out the window those old rules that applied to romance novels. Erotic romances can be contemporary, historical, fantasy or thriller. The level of sexuality varies according to the comfort level of the writer. I honestly believe it is the least formulaic of all the genres out there right now. That is hugely appealing to me.

My goal is to write erotic thrillers. If you asked me to describe Bad Girl, that’s what I would call it. It’s a contemporary erotic thriller. So I’m writing what I like to read: a sexy, suspense-filled romance.
_____________________________

A toast to Maya and many wishes for success!

Colleen

Oh, you crazy Americans!

Two days till Bad Girl is released...

I don't know who's looking more forward to it, me or my significant other!
__________________________________

The Manuscript

I've received some feedback on my MS and have to say that some of it gave me a giggle.

Apparently, if I want to market the thing in the U.S. I have to use American spelling. It seems that adding a "u" to color, behavior, or honor will confuse the heck out of the American reading public. Not only will metre will not be recognized as meter, but if I am to go so far as referring to a social security number as a social insurance number my book would never sell. Heaven forbid that one might derive meaning from context should a term be unfamiliar.

Don't forget that Harry Potter had a U.S. version, I have been reminded.

Of course that was the case, but, frankly, it was something we laughed at. Canadians don't call sorcerers philosophers either, but we could figure out the gist of it.

This brings to mind a column I read recently about American and Canadian tourists. According to the premise of the article, Canadians make crummy hosts, but are great travellers; Americans are wonderful hosts and lousy tourists. The reason? Canadians are acquiescent and will adapt; Americans are inflexible and have higher standards. Canadians will eat different foods, sleep in less-than-perfect rooms, and attempt to honour local customs wherever they are. Because we Canucks are so compliant, however, means we make terrible hosts providing little direction or hospitality to guests. When Americans travel, they want to take America with them, but are wonderful hosts because they will ensure their guests have only the best.

Perhaps this is true of books as well.

But it's a pain because now I have to decide what to do about the damn spelling. I don't imagine Canadian publishers would be too crazy about a Canadian using U.S. spelling for marketing purposes. On the other hand, the MS might not sell in the U.S. anyway because of place setting, so maybe I should just go with Canadian spelling and market it here.

It seems the first element of the business side of writing has just hit me.

Like there wasn't enough to fret about.
Colleen

Barn dance

Three days till Bad Girl gets released... is this something we should worry about?

__________________________________________

We weathered the rain and drove to Ross Creek last night for the end-of-summer barn dance. Not since high school gym class -- back in the day when bloomers were required gym apparel -- have I promenaded or sashayed my partner. Not that I did much of it last night; it's harder than it looks and all that bouncing around provides quite a workout. Pat's arthritic knees weren't much of an excuse for me to avoid dancing because there were plenty of other people looking for partners, but after one set, that was it for me.

Not so my sixteen-year-old son. He was a dancing fool all night long. It's hard to believe this kid who just two months ago refused to go to a dance was on the floor square dancing. He even let his partner talk him into a waltz.

That's what the experience of going to camp this summer did for him. He pushed himself out of his comfort zone, got away from his parents, and learned that looking foolish isn't the worse thing in the world.

Next week, we're spending a couple of days in Keji Provincial Park on the "Not Back to School Camping Trip." He's never camped before and has a decided disinterest in the outdoors, but is now willing to give it a try.

How cool is that?

Colleen

Four days (could it be only four days?) till Bad Girl... I can't wait.
-------------------------------

Back to the salt mine today, but before I go here's a great quote I just stumbled upon.

Some people are like a Slinky: not really good for anything, but you still can't help but smile when you shove them down the stairs.

C

A new use for fur

Five days to Bad Girl's release! (And my birthday, but who's counting?)

There's only one thing hotter than doing something you shouldn't... Getting caught.

___________________________

I'm beginning the next draft of one of my manuscripts -- I now have two on the go which I realize may not be the best approach to writing -- and I need some good focus time. Therefore, rather than post my own brilliant missive today, I am steering you to Rich Mahogany's blog for your reading pleasure.

NOTE OF CAUTION: Anyone disturbed by the mention of feminine hygiene products should just move along... there's nothing to see here.

Enjoy!
Colleen

The Challenge: Are you up for it?

Six days to Bad Girl!

There's only one thing hotter than doing something you shouldn't... Getting caught.
______________________________

The Challenge!

Since goals written are more likely to be reached than goals remaining in the ether, here are my writerly ones for the Fall:

• Continue with the writers' group I joined this week. I attended my first meeting on Monday. Group members were welcoming and offered good advice. The snacks were terrific too. Can't wait to get feedback on the chapter I submitted.
• Apply to the Writers' Fed. mentorship program. (Deadline: Sept 14)
• Sign up for one writing workshop through the Fed. (The new Fall schedule is posted.)
• Rewrite MS by December.
• Apply for writing grant (Deadline: Dec. 15)
• Enter Atlantic Writing Competition (Deadline: December 7)

Whew! No time for dawdling, is there?

And now my challenge to you: share one goal (for the writers in the crowd, it should be one to do with your writing) and report on progress. I'll commit to providing updates as I go along.

Colleen

Bad Girl countdown begins

Seven days till Bad Girl is released.

There's only one thing hotter than doing something you
shouldn't.

Getting caught.

Watch for her, September 4th.

Interview with Maureen Hull

In the fifteen years since Maureen Hull began writing, she has published poetry, short stories, children’s books and fiction -- all to critical acclaim and many have been short listed for a variety of literary awards. Her most recent -- and brilliant, I’d like to add -- work, The View From a Kite, was short listed for the Dartmouth Book Award for Fiction in 2007.

Maureen’s background is as diverse as her choice of writing styles. She has worked in the costume department at Neptune Theatre, been a lobster fisher and a homeschooler of her two daughters.

Maureen, can you connect the dots for us between being a costumer, fisher and writer?

When I left home and moved to Halifax my first job was at Neptune Theatre, in the costume department. At various points I studied at NSCADand Dalhousie's theatre dept. but still kept working at Neptune. It's an addictive and amazing life, live theatre, and I thought I'd be there forever.

A friend of friends came to town for the winter to work stage crew. The next summmer I went to visit him, on the island in the Northumberland strait where he lived (before going to Toronto to work with the National Ballet, I thought) and operated a fishing gear. I've been here ever since. I worked as crew for him on and off for 23 years, and we've raised two daughters. We're still here. Writing has been part of my life since I was nine and discovered Icould write a story. Sometimes I write about fishing, and theatre.

You have said that discovering poetry “blew the top off your head” and it was years before you returned to writing fiction. Does poetry still move you in this way? Why did you decide to return to fiction and how did you manage the transition?

When I was 14 or 15, I discovered Shakespeare's sonnets, the work of T.S. Eliot, Lawrence Ferlinghetti's A Coney Island of the Mind, and ananthology of Chinese poems. There was a definite explosion in my head. Poetry is the form I always return to, the form that has the best potential to get close to perfection of expression. You have to read through a lot of poetry to find the gold and the magic, but it's there. I have a theory that everyone has at some time or another written a poem. Or, if they haven't, they're going to.

What was your first written piece?

A short story I wrote for my sister, Grace, when she was seven and I was nine. I have no idea what it was about, I only remember that she liked it, so I thought it was something I could do again. As for poetry, probably a dreadful lament by an abandoned concubine in green silk robes. I read quite a lot of those when I was 14 and tried to emulate them.

What was your first published piece? How did you go about getting it published?

A short story called Mac and Bessie that appeared in The Fiddlehead. It was the first short story I wrote, when I decided to write fiction in my forties and had finally figured out how I might do it. I'd taken my daughters to hear Budge Wilson at a Writers' in the Schools visit and she told them just because an editor doesn't like your work, it doesn't mean it isn't good, it means you need to find another editor.

I took courage from that, and told my sister Kate, in Winnipeg, who was also doing a bit of writing, but had also not submitted. I proposed a bet, with the loser buying the other a bottle of champagne. We both submitted, she got accepted first, but something happened with the publication and it never got into print; I got accepted a month later and so made it into print first. We agreed two bottles of champagne were in order. I then wrote more stories and got wallpapered with rejections for a year.

Can you tell me about your journey as a writer? You’ve used a number of different writing forms to express yourself. Why have you chosen these forms? Does it have to do with what you want to express or does it have to do with where you are at in your own life?

Writing winds in and out of my life. It's as though I have two lives that depend on each other, but I need both to be whole. So I don't write as often as I could, because I'm busy living, and sometimes I'm absent from my personal life because I'm writing, or travelling becauseof my writing. I made certain decisions, instinct more than anything, that turned out to be very good.

Early on I approached the Writers' Federation of NovaScotia, and have been encouraged and supported, and have experienced so much joy and pleasure as a result. I took myself off to a few writers' workshops at UNB [University of New Brunswick], had some very generous and talented writers as teachers, and thereby accelerated my learning curve.

The forms I chose are dictated by what I want to express. Sometimes I use more than one form. I will, for example, write poems about a character in a story, or write a short fiction piece about a topic I'm dealing with in a poem. Probably state of mind has something to do with my choice, too.

From the first short story to The View From a Kite, would you describe your path to publication?

The View From a Kite started as a short story, based on my experience in a TB hospital when I was a teenager. I sent it to the Atlantic Writers' Competition, and got feedback that said it was good writing, and funny, but it had no plot. Eventually I decided it had no plot because it wasn't a short story but was something larger. It was a long time before I had the nerve to call it a novel.

I applied for a grant from the Canada Council, called it a novel and kept writing. I lost a chunk of it (something about a laptop in a laundry bag, and a boat at low tide) and had to rewrite a significant section. The rewrite was better. A huge chunk of it was written in Dawson City, when I was the Berton House Writer in Residence in 2001.

When we came home from the Yukon, I had a manuscript that was just about ready. I started sending it out a few months later, in bunches of queries, erratically. I sent it to 16 publishers over a couple of years, and one in four asked to see the whole manuscript and they said lovely things about my writing but didn't want that particular piece.

I threw it in the filing cabinet for a while and wrote another novel. In the fall of 2005, after reading that Sandra MacIntyre had launched Vagrant Press (the fiction imprint of Nimbus), I decided to phone her to ask her if she had any interest in seeing it. She said yes. We met Feb. 06 to discuss publication and we launched it in the fall ofthat year.

Penelope Jackson edited it with me and she was terrific. So was everyone else at Nimbus.The whole thing was fast and amazing. But I don't think that's the way it normally goes, and I did have to go through five years of rejections, first.

I have to say that my previous publishing record helped, in that Sandra was aware that I had a track record, so she was willing to look at the whole manuscript and skip the sample writing step.

I understand that Pierre Berton contacted you about applying for the writer-in-residence program at Berton House . How did that come about? What was the experience at Berton House like and how did it help you as a writer?

Pierre Berton sent me a letter inviting me to apply for the Residency, describing the house, and suggesting that it might be very suitable for me. I've no idea where he got my name, but I am eternally grateful to whoever suggested it to him, and to him for his kind and generous invitation.

We spent January and February, 2001 (wanted to see what winter was like that far north) in the house, and I wrote every morning, and I wrote well. It was such a gift. The people of Dawson City were wonderful, the house was delightful, the surroundings were magnificent. Being chosen gave me confidence, and also I felt a sense of responsibility not to waste this opportunity. Other than giving a reading in Dawson City, and one in Whitehorse, there are no demands made on the writer. Pierre Berton wantedto give writers a place and a space, without pressure. Of course he hoped it would inspirepeople to create, but if you just felt the need to daydream, that was fine too. I wrote and wrote.

The View From a Kite is about a teenaged tubercular patient in the 1970s. Was this a hard topic to pitch? What inspired you to write it?

Well, I didn't pitch the TB hospital as the mainpoint, but I did have one reject that saidcontemporary teenagers wouldn't be interestedbecause of it. I'd just read an excerpt to agroup of teenagers at Pier 1, who afterwardssurrounded me and wanted to know where they couldbuy it (I said, first I have to find apublisher), so I just assumed that editor didn'tknow what she was talking about. I wrote itbecause I'd lived it and I had all this greatbackground info and I wanted to use it.

Your main character, Gwen, is full of spunk and her sense of humour is never far away. To quote her: “I must admit that when I first started losing weight I was pleased. I dropped from a pudgy hundred and twenty-five down to one-eighteen in a month, and kept on going. One hundred and five, and my breasts disappeared. B the time they hauled me off to the Sanatorium, a feverish, weepy, ninety-pound weakling, I was out of love with elegant bones and scared that I was coming out through my skin.” Where does Gwen’s voice come from? Is she like you or your daughters?

Gwen's voice, I suppose, comes from mysubconscious. I was terribly shy, and I wanted to write a girl who was braver and funnier and feistier and naughtier than I'd been. She very quickly became her own person, and was a joy to write about. My daughters were younger than Gwen when I was first creating her, when I wrote that first short story. They are their own selves, and not Gwen at all. Although, they are funnier and feistier and much braver than I am. Don't know about the naughty.

Did you find an agent or a publisher first and why?

At one point, after I'd had a couple of books published, I approached a couple of agents, but they weren't interested. I've sold all my books myself; that seems to work. I have friends who tell me their agents are wonderful, and some who tell me their agents are useless. It seems like another layer of complication.

What tips can you share about how to write a good query letter?

Hmmmm. Well, I can tell you my preferences, based on my experience as an editor with Pottersfield Portfolio.

Be brief. Very brief and informative. Give basic info, especially phone and email. Tell what you're sending, genre, word count, what it's about. This is no time to be coy, give a straightforward description. If you've got previous publication credits, list the best two or three, same with awards or nominations. Don't be cute, don't ramble on. If they decide to publish, they'll come back for a personal bio.Where you went to school, what your philosopy is, how many cats you have - not important. What is important is the quality of your work, and good contact information.

This is what I liked to see when editing, and it's pretty much how I frame my own query letters.
Are there any tips you can give to unpublished writers looking to be published?

Nobody really wants to hear this, but you haveto do the work. Research the publishers, submit, get rejected, get depressed, get over it, go back at it. Keep writing and rewriting and trying to improve. Being published is part of a process, not an end point. Who, after winning the Nobel, or the IMPAC Dublin, or selling ten million copies, do you think has ever downed pen and said: There. Done.

I would suggest that the next day, or the next week, they picked up the pen, opened the laptop, got back to the project they'd interrupted to go and collect the award and bank the cheque.

It'sall about the writing, and the living.

Any additional advice?

Try to find a community of writers, even a small one. People (even you nearest and dearest) are not all that interested in talking about writing. It's helpful to have friends and allies who understand, and who aren't afraid to give you solid feedback. (Your nearest and dearest will love your work, because they love you. It's encouraging, but not helpful.)

Thanks, Maureen for sharing your time and your experiences.

This has been fun, pretending to be some kind of expert! Thanks for inviting me.

Interested in buying Maureen's book? Click here.

Colleen

Interview: Ami McKay

You've heard me rave about Ami McKay’s first novel, The Birth House -- winner of numerous awards and a bestseller on many lists including holding the top spot on the Canadian Booksellers List for Canadian fiction.

Today, we get to meet Ami through an interview she did for this blog in moments between promoting her book, teaching a writing course, writing a play and healing an injured back! Thanks, Ami! I don't know how you manage to juggle it all.

In 2000, Ami moved to Nova Scotia from Indiana and became intrigued with the history of her new home – the former house and birthing centre of midwife Rebecca Steele. Ami began researching and basis for The Birth House was born.

Here is Ami’s story of her road to publication.

What a road the past few years must have been for you! How did you transition from music teacher to documentary producer and then to novel writer?

Even through music school and university, I was always a writer. I had piles of notebooks filled with scribblings, but I preferred to keep my writing hidden away from the rest of the world. I had no intention of ever getting published.

Then I met the man who would one day become my husband… We found we had a shared love for poetry and fiction and eventually I admitted to him that I had written some poems and short stories. As the relationship grew, we wound up having an “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours” exchange with words. After we got married, he kept after me to continue writing. It was his encouragement that led me to putting my writing into the world - first in the form of an impulsive thank-you note that landed me on the Oprah Winfrey Show, then to taking a workshop on writing for CBC radio, and then he cheered me on when I decided to write a novel. His support made it all feel “meant to be” and possible. As unrelated as my choices may read when listed side by side, it’s always felt as if I was following a very natural path.

Can you tell us a bit about your research? How was your interest in the history of your home piqued and where did you go from there?

My research for The Birth House sprang from a serendipitous journey. Not long after we moved into an old farmhouse in Scots Bay, NS, I became pregnant with my second child. My pregnancy sparked conversations with my neighbours about Mrs. E. Rebecca Steele, the midwife who had once owned the house. She lived in the house from the turn of the century to 1947 and she opened her home to the other women in the Bay as a birthing house. The entire time I was pregnant, I was hearing these wonderful tales of the midwife and the women of Scots Bay coming together to support one another through pregnancy and childbirth. Their stories led me to wonder many things – How many of us can tell our own birth stories? Why are midwives no longer an important part of today’s medical system in North America? What kind of world would we have if communities honoured the birth of every child?

When did you think: “I’ve got something worth telling in this story?”

That was a pretty clear moment for me. It was during a trip to a nursing home to visit Mary Huntley, the adopted daughter of the midwife. Even at 89-years-old, she had clear, beautiful memories of the past and of growing up in the birthing house. At one point in the conversation, she took a piece of paper from her pocket and began to read from it. It was a list of all the names of the mothers who had come to the house and the names of all the babies born there. She had put the list together when she found out I was coming to see her. Listening to her read those names one after another made everything very real and important to me.

Can you describe your writing process for The Birth House? Did you stick to a writing schedule? How long did it take to complete? How did you hone your work? (i.e. did you belong to a writer’s group, have a mentor, etc.)

I started out on my own, writing whenever I had a little extra time (often while breastfeeding my new baby.) I wasn’t sure what I creating at first, especially since I was trying my best to avoid the vast territory of the novel. Writing a novel seemed too daunting, and too much of a commitment. But once I made the decision to go for it, the writing felt stronger and it actually became easier to sit down and write on a regular basis. After I had a fair chunk of writing, I submitted an application to the WFNS (Writers’ Federation of Nova Scotia) Mentorship program. I promised myself that if I got a spot in the program, I’d make the novel a priority and write a rough draft in that time period.

Happily, I did get a spot and was able to work with Richard Cumyn, a wonderful writer and mentor. With his encouragement and feedback, I reached my goal. It’s only a nine month program, so the draft was incredibly rough (and very different from what became The Birth House)…but it was wonderfully liberating to have it in hand! It’s so important to set goals for yourself and to celebrate each milestone.

As a mother and wife, I had a lot of guilt about taking the time and space to write. I wouldn’t have finished the novel (and the subsequent drafts) if I hadn’t set do-able goals along the way.

In all, it was a three-year journey. Aside from one creative writing course I took, the mentorship, and some amazing feedback from my husband, I wrote alone. Writing groups can be havens for some writers, but they don’t seem to work for me – I wind up writing the same thing over and over again and never make any progress. I tend to be pretty tough on myself and don’t mind going back and editing. I was trained as a musician from an early age, so going back to something until it “sounds” right (I read everything I write out loud every step of the way) is an important part of my writing practice.

Let’s talk about finding a publisher and an agent – two things on every writer’s mind. Did you get an editor or an agent first? Would you describe the steps you took from completion of your manuscript to landing an agent and a publisher? (Copy of Ami's query letter.)

I went for an agent first. Agents work with editors every day and they know what sparks the interest of specific houses, publishers and editors. I had no connections in the publishing industry and had no idea who might want to publish my manuscript.

Either way, (whether I wanted to query publishers or agents) I knew I was going to have to do a lot of research to figure out where to send it. So, I started sleuthing around to make a list of my top 15 choices for agents based on the kinds of books they had sold and the authors they represented. I subscribed to Publisher’s Lunch via Publisher’s Marketplace. (It’s a free e-newsletter that comes to your inbox. It tells you which agents are selling what and where they are making their sales.) I started reading the deals section of Quill and Quire’s web site. I read up on how to write a query letter.

I wrote draft after draft, working to make the letter as tight and interesting as possible. The time you spend researching agents (and/or publishers) as well as the time you spend writing your query letter is just as important as the time you spent writing your novel. Don’t toss off something in a hurry because you’re anxious to get published. (And because there are crooks out there waiting to take your money, remember this: you should never ever have to pay an agent to look at your work!) In the end, I had a handful of agents really interested in the manuscript and wound up working with Toronto based agent, Helen Heller. She really seemed to get what I was trying to do with the novel and (more importantly) with my career as a whole.
Prior to publication, your book won second prize in the Atlantic Book Awards for unpublished fiction under the title, Given. Did this award help you in the query process?

Writing credits, mentorships, and awards certainly help round out a query letter. It shows you’re serious about your work and that others have noticed you along the way. That said, don’t stress out if you don’t have a long list. Quality trumps quantity every time. The main thing is to hook the agent or editor in those first lines of the query. You want them eager to read the manuscript and anxious to get their hands on the rest of the story. Your list of writing credits is like icing on the cake.

The story described in your original query letter has some differences from the final book. Would you tell us about the editorial process?

The query letter on my web site was the one I sent to agents after I had tightened up the rough draft I completed in the mentorship program. It’s for Given, which was a story of two women’s lives – one in the past, one in the present. When I first began conversing with Helen Heller, she put her finger on something that I had secretly been hoping no one would notice …that the present-day protagonist was a much weaker character than Dora (the midwife protagonist from the past.)

Having once been an editor herself, she expressed her concern that the other character wasn’t strong enough to support her own storyline. As soon as she said it, I knew she was right. (I’d made the mistake a lot of first-time novelists make – I had written myself into the novel!) I told her I’d be willing to go back and give the entire novel to Dora (which meant throwing out nearly half of my manuscript) if she’d be willing to stick with me and have a look at it when I was finished. She said she couldn’t make any promises as far as selling the revised manuscript, but she let me know she would definitely be there whenever I thought I was ready to show her the new version of the novel.

I went back and tackled it again (and then yet again) and when I felt that I had written the story I wanted to write all along, Helen agreed that it was ready to send to publishers. It didn’t take long before she had it in the hands of the editors at Knopf and we had a deal.

Changes made during the editorial process at the publishing house were subtle ones. My editors were fantastic to work with – incredibly nurturing. I felt it was a true partnership and that they had the best interests of the story and my voice as a writer at heart. Together we shaped the novel in gentle but important ways so that the narrative flowed. Dora’s voice was always top priority. It was Dora’s voice, along with her journey that had captured the publisher’s heart from the start. As she once told me, “I was willing to follow Dora anywhere.” Needless to say, that comment left me feeling elated!

Do you have any advice on how an unpublished writer can get the attention of an agent or editor? For a first book, is it better to seek one or the other first?

I’m not sure I can say which should come first. Having an agent has been extremely important for me. I know I couldn’t have shopped the manuscript around to the big houses without her. On the other hand, I know some authors who represent themselves well and are happy with that. For instance, short story collections are sometimes a hard sell to agents and big houses – but smaller presses are willing to take a chance with them. It can be an excellent way to build a career. There’s also nothing that says you can’t approach publishers with a manuscript and then, once you have their interest, seek out an agent to help you make the deal.


Try your best not to get distracted with deal making tactics while you’re writing. Don’t worry about the market, or what’s hot – these things are subject to change. Always strive to become a better writer. Write the stories you want to read.

Does this differ between Canada and the U.S.?

I think the US market is harder to break into without an agent. It’s such a circus down there! Editors and their assistants are constantly changing houses and it’s difficult to keep track of who’s who.

Your novel was published in hard cover in 2006 and in soft cover this year. What promotional activities have you undertaken? What has your publisher done for promotion? Were there elements of promotion that you were expected, as the author, to provide, for example: to have a website?

With my Canadian publisher, I was chosen as Knopf Canada’s New Face of Fiction for 2006. It’s a program that introduces debut novels (and occasionally short story collections) to booksellers and to the public. (other authors who have come through the program have included Yan Martel, Ann-Marie MacDonald, and Beth Powning, among others.) That program, along with my commitment to connecting with readers and book clubs through my web sites (my husband is my amazing web designer) really helped foster a readership in Canada.

I have different publishers in different countries, so my experiences have been varied outside of Canada. My readership in the UK is smaller, but very loyal. Reviews there were strong. US readership has been very slow in the making. I haven’t really toured there at all and sometimes I wonder if it’s just harder for them to warm up to a “Canadian” novel? -- even though I’m originally from the States.

The expectations placed on me by my publishers have been reasonable. Their part in all of it (how much marketing, publicity, etc. to expect) usually doesn’t become clear until you’re almost to the pub. date. To be honest - it’s difficult to guess what the response will be for a debut novel. Marketing budgets are small for first novels and publicists are constantly scrambling for precious face-time in the media.

I've tried to do my part by building the web site. My philosophy behind my web site is, the more I can help my readers directly connect with my work, the better. I wrote my own reading group discussion guide, I set up a blog, a facebook group, etc. It’s my way of reaching out to readers and inviting them consider my work.

Have you begun to think about a second book?

I’m currently working away on my second novel as well as writing a play for the Nova Scotia based theatre company, Two Planks and Passion. It’s crazy to be working on two big projects at once, but it’s loads of fun. They are set in the same time period, so a lot of ideas, themes and topics overlap.

How do you juggle your writing career with being the mom of two home-schooled boys?

My husband works from home as well, so we live by the motto: “we’re all in this together.”
Our goal is that we make time for one another’s dreams. So far, so good.

Many thanks for taking time away from your busy schedule to give pre-published authors some insight into the creative and business sides of writing life.

For more information about The Birth House,including a reading guide, recipes, news and more, please see: http://www.thebirthhouse.com/

Ami's personal web site: http://www.amimckay.com/

Get in touch with Ami via -My Blog - incidental pieces: http://amimckay.blogspot.com/

Facebook - The Occasional Knitter's Society Group: http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=2499221501

My Space:http://www.myspace.com/amimckay

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More good news!


There is a second part to Ami's interview that I'll post as soon as she's able to get to it and the marvelous Maureen Hull will be dropping by on Monday via her interview.

I hope you're finding these interviews helpful and inspiring. I am delighted our NS arts community is so accessible and we pre-pub authors are able to learn from the best.

Colleen