Canadian Writers Blog Tour
Anita Dolman recently asked me to participate in
the Canadian Writers Blog Tour. While the secret origin of the tour is shrouded
in mystery, I am happy to participate. As Merilyn Simonds wrote on her blog, the premise is simple—each writer goes on “tour” for a week, posting their answers to a series
of questions all at once or one at a time. I have opted for all at one time. At
the end of the post, the touring writer (yours truly this fine week) offers
links to the postings of previous scribes who have already been on the tour.
First Disclosure: At this stage, it would be
prudent to mention that I met Anita at a poetry-trading workshop at rob
mclennan’s apartment back in December 2001. While we didn’t all meet again for
some time as a group, Anita and I did, trading writing—poetry and fiction—about once a month for a year. Things seemed to have worked out since, as she
is now my fair wife. An Ottawa-based writer, Anita’s poetry and fiction have appeared
throughout Canada and the United States, including, most recently, fiction in On Spec Magazine: The Canadian Magazine of the Fantastic, and non-fiction in Women In Clothes, from Blue Rider Press. A new chapbook of
her poetry, Where No One Can See You, is forthcoming from Angel House Press this fall.
These are the questions:
1. What are you currently working on?
2. How does your work differ from others?
3. Why do you write what you do?
4. How does your process work?
1.
What are you currently working on?
I am
wrapping up the last details for my first horror novel, Town & Train, due
out Nov. 8, 2014, from Lethe Press. By "wrapping up" I mean looking at the baby
and passing it off to my publisher and learning to let go. This dream of 20
years—to have the book published—is coming to fruition. I am having a considerable—and I hope understandable—amount of separation anxiety. Luckily, Steve
Berman, my publisher, has been kind enough to walk me through the process of
getting a first book out. I thank him for it.
Other
than that, I have absolutely nothing in the tank. But, in all seriousness, I am
finishing up rewriting some short stories so that I can package them as my
first prospective short story collection.
As
well, I have really turned onto the idea of the e-interview recently. I have taken
my interview notes from my journalistic articles and published the whole thing
whole-hog on my blog or other places. I’ve done this with my interviews for Toronto author Jeffrey Round and with Michael Rowe on the
Postscripts to Darkness website. I have
one interview in the pipe that I will post in the near future, with Ottawa
author 'Nathan Burgoine, and another e-interview later on. I won’t reveal the
author except to say they wrote a moving book about a little girl growing up as
Jehovah’s Witness in a dysfunctional family.
2. How
does your work differ from others?
I went through this thing in my twenties,
where I wrote using acceptable horror, sci-fi, and fantasy tropes, until I had an epiphany. A
story—any story—is about the character’s journey, both internal and external. When I hit
upon that gold, I changed how I wrote, and I didn’t look back. Don’t’ get me
wrong—I still adore monsters and fantastical stories and trying to pin down
angst and struggles about life itself. I just realized that, in playing with
words, I was very much like the little boy I once was, playing with action figures or
toys, or making drawings. The difference is that, as a 41-year-old relating to his
bursting-with-imagination-younger-self, my stories are ultimately about
people. In some ways, I hope what I write is an extension of what Ray Bradbury would
be writing were he still alive and writing today.
I dig writing about people’s journeys. Are they
religious and having a change of heart? Are they ‘"straight" and reconsidering
how they see themselves sexually? Are they cowardly, or so they think, and do
they want to be courageous? To me, whether I am writing about a character agonizing
about her love affair while taking a Voyageur bus bound for Cornwall or a
Canadian backpacker in Ireland encountering a shape-shifter or a husband
secretly trying to be writer while his wife thinks he is having an affair, I am
writing about how we, as people, can change, or not.
In my poetry, I have new peccadilloes—writing about a
child’s perspective versus a grown-up’s; life as it is as opposed to how we
idealize it; and narrator perspectives we may not have considered.
In both poetry and fiction, however, I am also preoccupied with characters coping with loss—of the past, of
loved ones, of a part of themselves. This theme, I notice, has surfaced in my
work across the board. And an un-closeted honesty, which I never had until
recently, is also coming through. I also owe this rawness to my own
recent coming out, which has freed parts of me that weren’t necessarily as free
before, creatively speaking.
3. Why do you write what you do?
I write to be read. Since as long as I can remember,
I have longed to connect with others, and writing is a way to do this. At the
very least, I hope my writing provides a doorway into another world, a shift
into another perspective, or a reprieve from the everyday. At its best, and I
think all aspiring writers feel this way, I hope that my writing can reach
someone. Stephen King once wrote that you cannot sweep others away with the
power of your writing until you have been swept away by the powers of an author
yourself. I agree. And, in sweeping away a reader, I have the highest hope that
they will learn something, that something might change in their heart or their
viewpoint. One hesitates to say “in their life” but that happens, too.
4. How does your process work?
I’d
have to agree with Anita about reading. I read voraciously. For a while, I was fitting
my reading time into my freelance journalism and reading only what I wanted,
reviewing it, and/or interviewing the authors. What a gift that is.
Unfortunately, with my time being limited, I am on hiatus from freelancing to
focus more on my own writing. So, I’m reading even more of what I want. My
current sizeable inspiration is Michael Chabon’s The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, which is quite good in a
Catcher-in-the-Rye, Great-Gatsby-sort-of-greatness way. Chabon reminds me why I
got into writing in the first place.
In
between finishing up my novel and short stories, I have other ideas aging and
percolating and jostling for attention. Where to start? And where to finish? I
write my ideas down, both in hard copy and on hard drive. Whenever I sit down
to write, and I dare complain that I don’t know what to write, I look at my list of ideas. Pick one, I tell myself. Usually I gravitate to the idea that moves
me most. Look, the backyard is overgrown
with weeds and greenery, but the grape vines look beautiful and the trees lush
with leaves. I think I’ll tackle my idea about a heroine who is afraid of being
outdoors because she thinks a serial killer may be out there in the woods. Is there a serial killer, though? And
then I find out.
I used to draft a piece once or twice and then read
it at the Tree Reading Series or proudly hand it to Anita for our then-writing
trade. I learned to revise more extensively. I once handed her a Halloween
poem printed on orange eight-and-a-half-by-eleven paper. She gave the piece the
what-for, and when she handed it back she said, not unkindly, “Put this in a
drawer to remind yourself how not to write a poem.”
And I did. And you know what? I do pull that poem out sometimes to
remember how not to write a poem.
Now I edit a story many times before it’s
ready. Unless an idea comes out excavated, beautiful and
practically whole, and I need not shape a piece into what it is meant to be, or
to excavate its true self. This can be a rare instance, admittedly.
I have stories and poetry in the station at three
different stages—drafted, needing revision, or needing to be launched from the train
station into the world. I run a writing workshop, Little Workshop of Horrors,
where my middle-or-earlier drafts go, to help carve them into the shape they
are meant to be.
Then, of course, there’s the marketing stage—finding publishing markets, submitting, re-submitting, following up and
querying. But that’s the business side. I let the other side of my brain tend
to that, as suggested by Dorothea Brande in Becoming
a Writer. That’s the business person’s job, not the artist’s, whose job is
to create.
Next up on the Canadian Writers Blog Tour, I nominate Ranylt Richildis, a fine writer,
editor, film reviewer and literature scholar living in Ottawa, Canada. After
publishing a short story in Postscripts
to Darkness, she was invited onboard as co-editor with fellow Fiction of
Horror professors Sean Moreland and Aalya Ahmad. She also recently founded Lackington's, a new online SFF magazine
devoted to stories told in unusual or poetic language. Richildis has had a good
2014, publishing fiction in The Future
Fire, Myths Inscribed, The Golden Key and other venues. She has
a few homemade scarves, and many elaborate dinner parties
under her belt as well. Richildis also earned an honourable mention in Imaginarium 2013: The Best Canadian
Speculative Writing for a wee tale called “Long After the Greeks.”
Closing Disclosure: Amanda Earl nominated Anita
Dolman. I met Amanda Earl way back when
she and her husband Charles were starting up Bywords Quarterly Journal, now
simply known as bywords.ca. In my modest
way, I offered them grant-seeking suggestions whilst they bought me a meal
and a pint at the real Royal Oak Pub. Years later, Amanda is doing some
marvellous work, not only in her own writing, but also through bywords.ca and
her small press, Angel House Press. In addition, I admire Amanda for suggesting
that we not all have to live the same way. Some of us have monogamous
relationships, and some of us don’t. Some of the populace thinks the populace is mostly straight—and much of the populace, as I have discovered particularly in the last year or
so, is most certainly not straight. And that is a wonderful discovery.
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