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For two weeks in June, my writer friend Jane Barclay (Btw: recent winner of the Ruth Schwartz Children’s Book Award) and I rented a lovely cottage in Hunt’s Point, Nova Scotia, for the primary purpose of doing some serious work on our young adult novels. It was a road trip with a literary mission: to seclude ourselves from family, friends, and even technology and produce some good writing. In the last picture above you can see us waiting for the ferry in St. John, New Brunswick, on a sunny Friday morning, full of excitement.

Upon arrival at the cottage, the owner, Shelley Thompson, showed us a robin’s nest on the front porch, inside which lay a handful of tiny blue eggs. Shelley had blocked off that staircase, to give Mama Robin some peace and quiet. It became a focal point of our week to check on the progress of those chicks and I’ll tell you: Jane and I never did encounter a more determined mother. She would shoot us quite a dirty look whenever we peeked out the kitchen window. Being literary souls, we also began to see Mama Robin as a symbol of what we had left behind: our own chicks, older now but fending for themselves and most probably turning our nests into the sort of pig-sties that young people seem most comfortable in. (See Mama Robin above)

This is the way our writing days went: we woke up, made tea or coffee, and got straight to work in our separate corners of the house, doing steady writing for 3 - 4 hours. OK - the odd scrap of conversation, or groans, passed between us, but basically we wrote, wrote, wrote with NO interruptions. Then, near noon, we would walk down the road to climb out on the rocks at the wharf and stare out at that amazingly powerful ocean, then to stroll along Hunt’s Point beach. One day we found a full skeleton of some animal, probably a dog, deer, or coyote (Help - where is CSI Hunt’s Point?). If Jane were writing this blog she would no doubt point out my pathological fear of being mauled by a coyote or other large animal. Hey, I am a city gal and I have already confessed to a fear of squirrels in previous posts, so ….

After lunch, Jane and I explored the many treasures of the South Shore: Summerville Beach, Carter’s Beach (picture above), Kejimakujik Seaside Park, where we saw seals on a rock, so carefully camouflaged we almost missed them (see above), Thomas Raddall Provincial Park (very deserted - my fear of animal attack unusually high in the woods there).

Late afternoon, we had a cold beer, some quiet time leading to dinner. Two meals were eaten at the Quartdeck Grill (picture above), a charming restaurant that overlooks the water in the most spectacular way. Jane had a long and protracted “moment” there, sinking into an almost trancelike groove where she felt all her senses in a heightened and happy way. OK - I am not given to such moments, but I do take it ALL in. My moments are more fleeting and internal, I suppose. Mostly though, we cooked at home.

Now, back to the writing: in the evening, we did something so helpful I wish it could continue forever: we read to each other what we had written in the morning and gave one another a solid, sometimes hour-long critique. It provided focus and inspiration for what to work on next day and it was so effective.

I strongly recommend a retreat like this to all writers, but make sure you are going with someone you get along well with and share the same goals with, like Jane and I. Not that we are not very different people, because we are. She likes to iron wrinkles out of her clothes and I could not care less, for example, but basically we were on the same page. And I love her book. I know it is going to be a smash when she gets that plot together. It’s funny, but for her book we ended up talking mostly plot and for mine it was mostly voice.

Oh yeah - about the robin. In the second week, after Jane had gone home and my husband had taken her place, the chicks were born (see photo). It was a thrill. I’d stand at the window and watch for those enormous and desperate beaks to pop up. A funny anecdote though: Papa bird, who we discovered is very much involved in this whole process, took a strong dislike to our blue Mazda and would jump up and down on it and leave so much poo the car became striped. Ron spent much of that week washing our car, something he never does himself at home! (See him - the robin, not my husband)on our mirror above.) We finally discovered Papa was seeing himself in the side mirrors and metallic shine and thought a rival robin was coming for his wife and babies. Once we tied plastic bags around the mirrors, he calmed down.

I am now back home and trying to continue the book, but it sure was easier away. Oh well - we all write when we can and how we can, right?

Faretheewell Nova Scotia and thanks for the inspiration.

I am sneaking in two extra photos: one of my handsome husband Ron, pretending to be a fisherman. Our friends, Doug & Nelly, who joined us for two nights, eating with us at the Quartdeck. That’s the big picture and I am too dumb to know how to go back in and make it small. However, it’s such a great picture I am glad it is a big one. Don’t we all look happy and the men are ecstatic because they just ate lobster.

Last weekend I participated in a panel discussion on young adult literature as part of the Imagine a Story Conference. This was a first ever conference organized by Yesouicanscaip, the Quebec branch of Canscaip.

The entire day was a roaring success, especially since this was an inaugural event. The group really didn’t know what to expect, since the anglophone community in Montreal is so much smaller than in Toronto - obviously - which is where the big annual Canscaip conference takes place. But I was certainly pleasantly surprised by the great turnout. It reminded me once again that so many people are passionate about writing for children. Honestly, the best books I’ve read in the past few months have been children’s and YA:

Top 5 you ask: OK

1) The Underneath by Kathi Appelt (mesmerizing and seductive)
2) What I Saw and How I Lied by Judy Blundell
3) Looking for Alaska by John Green
4) The Rules of Survival by Nancy Werlin
5) A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray

And that is just from April to now. Why do I love good YA. I love the focus on storytelling. I love that the writing, when it is well done, is clear and crisp and uncluttered by long introspective and self-indulgent passages that feel as though they were designed to impress. Like look at me: I am so witty! Phlip Pullman once said (and I paraphrase) that there are some stories that are too big to be told by anyone other than a children’s author. And he goes on to say that that is because a children’s author is sure to deliver the STORY - focus on character and plot, and not try to dazzle the reader with style.

Now, don’t get me wrong. A good YA novel can have style and plenty of it - just read any of the above. But the style (the voice, the imagery, the symbolism) is never there for its own Artisic sake - it is there to further the story.

On the panel, the six Montreal writers all talked about how they write and whey they write for teens. We decided we all share in common the fact that those teen years were very heady, very meaty and that, in some respects, we kind of got pyschologically stuck there. Although some of us kind of FELL into it, willy nilly, myself included. But, as in the case of Alice, it was a fruitful fall. We all had such different styles of working on a book, but the common factor was that we all agreed it was HARD work, no matter how we do it. Our reading tastes also differ vastly, from barely reading YA at all to loving the Gossip Girls.

In the morning, I had listened to Shelley Tanaka, editor at Groundwood Books, speak. It always amazes me that there is more to learn: not learn exactly, because I can’t say I didn’t already know what she talked about, but more to reabsorb, to confirm. As I listened to her talk about how many authors cannot answer basic questions about their new books, I realized I need to answer them myself for my new book I am working on. The questions are:
Who is the story about?
What does she want?
What is stopping her from getting it?
What is the crisis point?
How does the character change?

I took mental notes (and was happy to later hear Tanaka say that more writers should write more in their heads) about how I needed to reinforce the conflict more, since this is a more reflective book.

I also liked how Tanaka reminded us that we are not our characters’ mothers! Good advice. So, stop spanking (metaphorically) that kid, open the doors, let him out, throw caution to the wind, let her eat nothing but chocolate, forget about poisonous snakes and pedophiles - let her live! See where she takes you.

OKay, all for now. Thank you Carol-Ann Hoyte and Allister Thorne for all your hard work on this conference. I hope there are many more.

Greetings All

I have just finished team teaching (along with fellow writer Monique Polak) another Teen Talk: Writing Young Adult Fiction class for the Quebec Writers’ Federation. Once again, we worked with such a talented group of people. I certainly hope to and expect to see their names in print in the future.

So many good questions came up during the course of the 8 weeks, questions that made me think hard and reflect on this difficult business of writing a good book. There is so much to take into account, to think about, and yet, if a book is going well, it hardly feels like thinking at all.

We spent much time talking about the process and I said that there is no single way to write a book: there are as many ways to write a book as there are writers. Today, writing what might very well be one of the most important scenes in my new book, I became super aware of my own process.

It went like this: write a paragraph, get up make coffee. Write a few sentences: get up fluff pillows still dented with frustration marks of last night’s hockey game (Montreal beaten by Washington 6-3); write another paragraph, get up make second coffee; write a few more sentences, get up brush teeth to get rid of yucky coffee taste; write a bit more, get up to get banana; write more, stop and reread all and feel terribly smart because I like it.

OK - you get the pictures. It’s not always like this but on this particular day it was. I am no longer fighting this new book. At first, it was like that guest that you welcomed at first but now refuses to leave; then it was more like a crabby roommate that you try to only deal with when you have to; now though, it is something I wake up and think about right and get to right away.

I’m still not totally sure if it will come together, but I know through lots of hard work and revision I will make it work. How many years will that take? Who knows.

Writing a good book with some depth is hard work. I think all the people in the class were feeling that. The ones who are willing to go through the process and do a ton of rewriting will be the ones who will be published one day.

There are no short-cuts. Sorry.

Now, I have to go pack lunches, feed the cats - life beckons. I will pack my book away like a sleeping child, and, like a mother watching her sleeping child I will feel both glad of the break and like I can’t wait until she wakes up again.

Bye for now.

Well, I’m back - a little soggy from the constant drizzle and rain, but happy. I love being in St. John’s, even in bad weather. The fog was so thick that we couldn’t see Cabot Tower from our bedroom window, until the last day, Sunday. Then the mist lifted and we flew up Signal Hill to look out on the ocean and the city - but it was COLD!

I had an eventful week which began with an interview on the local CBC radio with Jeff Gilhooly (I just might have to use that last name some time), where I got to introduce myself and my book to the community. It was my first studio interview and I felt like a bit of a celebrity speaking into a microphone. We gave away one of my books which was fun. I forget the name of the winner, but congratulations anyway.

That same day, I met a grade 9 class at MacDonald Drive Junior High, in Edwina Mill’s class. Ms. Mills did a great job of connecting her students to the characters in the book, like when she asked the kids who had experienced a long haul move to a strange place. I was surprised by how many had shared Cheryl’s experience and by how they too found moving away like that quite hard.

Later, I worked with a small group of students at Gonzaga High School, in Kieran Walsh’s class. What stands out about this group was the hearing impaired student who asked so many wonderful questions through his aide. He had an enormous curiosity about writing (a future author perhaps?). We ended the session with a word search based on my book that a fan actually made up and sent me. I hope she won’t mind my sharing her name: Nicole Foucault. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to make a word search, harder it seems than writing the book! The mystery word in the puzzle is actually the theme of my book. (Thank you Nicole)

That evening (and by now you can imagine I was pretty tired, especially since we arrived at 3 am the day before) I went out to a lovely library: the Ross King Memorial Library in Mount Pearl. The Librarian, Yvonne Gillard, picked me up and drove me through the fog, talking about moose on the road, which was exciting and scary all at once. A small crowd of interested people came out to hear about my book and to talk about writing. What amazes me is that I meet writers wherever I go and that is a good sign that reading is not a dying art.

The next day I worked with two grade 12 classes at Holy Heart of Mary High School, which those of you who have read my book will recognize as the name of the school which Jim attends. It was fun to tell the kids how Sam Fritz Tate had taken me around the school summer of 2008 to show me all its intricacies, including hoisting me up so I could peek in the windows. These students are the same age as the ones I teach in Montreal so I felt very much at home and they asked great questions and showed an overall keen interest in books and writing. Thanks to their teacher, Margaret Henaghan, for obviously sharing her passion for books with her kids.

The rest of the week was devoted to auditions at MUN (for my daughter) and visiting old friends and praying for sun. We got on a plane early early Monday morning and said goodbye to our favourite place in the world one more time: always a sad event, but I hope to return soon.

I also hope that I managed to spread the word about my book to the people of Newfoundland, especially to young readers. That is what all writers want, to know that people are reading our work and enjoying it. Otherwise, why do we bother? It’s not for fame or fortune, in my case, but to share a story.

It’s been ages since my last posting - I had a feeling I’d be bad at this blogging business. I do have a good excuse though: I have been teaching an intensive course for which I just finished the heavy marking load yesterday.

My course is called In a Material World and in it we examine the insidious world of consumerism and advertising. Our main reads (apart from many shorter texts) are Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World and M.T. Anderson’s Feed. They go so well together as dystopias about future societies where people no longer read or think: all they do is have fun and shop. I highly recommend both these books to anyone who sees our society with a critical eye, or even if you don’t. They are both eye-openers; my students would agree.

Now that that is behind me, I am turning my attention to my next trip, which will be to St. John’s, Newfoundland (March 2 - 9th, 2010), where I will be visiting several junior and high schools to talk about my book and do some creative writing with the kids. I am excited, since my new book If You Live Like Me is set there. I will even be going to the school I used in the book, Holy Heart, where Jim (my male lead) goes. That will be neat. When I was there to edit the book 2 summers ago I could only walk around the school and take notes from the outside. This time, I’ll get inside. It will be interesting to see if the kids think I got it right, in terms of the layout and atmosphere.

My daughter will be auditioning to get into Music at MUN the same week, so it will be a big adventure for both of us. I’ll be sure to take pictures and update my blog.

Now - if only I could be sure no snow storms await - and that the March winds will hold off. If you read my new book you will know by the opening scene that I am not a big fan of landing in St. John’s.

Bye for now.

Look closely at these faces: among them may sit the writing stars of the future. These are shots of the final workshop day in my Creative Writing for Children course at John Abbott College. Students are giving one another feedback on the first chapters of their young adult novels. There was an abundance of talent in this year’s class. I read picture books, first chapters of junior novels and young adult novels that literally blew me away and made me wish I could find a way to force these kids to keep writing. I hope many will - even if they only find the time and motivation to do so ten years from now, when their formal studies are behind them. I felt like I was reading published work. As a teacher, this is most rewarding and gratifying, especially since many of the kids only took the class because it fit into their schedules and they needed the credit. l I hope some of them have been surprised by the latent talent for writing that was unleashed by the assignments. Others came in already harbouring a dream to become writers - I hope the course has given them the belief that they can be, with hard work and perserverance. Congratualtions to everyone!

Saying goodbye to my dear friend, Fran, was not easy. Who knows when I’ll see her again. Winnipeg is far away and we are all far too busy in our lives. What healthier and happier people we would all be if we made more time for friendship. Good friends are, in my view, the key ingredient to a happy life. How wonderful it was to sit with Fran and simply talk. She remembers me from way back, before I became a published writer, when I was a young student just starting to take creative writing seriously. I feel I have grown up under her counsel and tutelage. She is so wise and so giving. I would not be the writer I am now if I had not been lucky enough to meet her back in Vanier College in 1977. I can still see her walking into class that first time, her bangs cut straight across her forehead, just like mine, tall and willowy, fixing us all with her intense stare and turning us into writers.

We spent our last evening together at the Winnipeg Concert Hall watching The Barber of Seville. It was a great production and I was never so thankful for a funny opera because I have to confess, if it had been dark and tragic, I’d have been asleep on Fran’s shoulder.

Back to the idea of tutelage: this is the theme that emerged most strongly this week - how essential it is, how beneficial it is, to young people. Everywhere I went, inner-city or small town, students were eager for it. I could see it in their eyes. The media would have us think that young people are disconnected from the adult world, as they spend so much time plugged in to iPods and computers and X-Boxes. But I don’t believe it. They are watching; they are listening. What we show them and what we tell them are so important. Sadly, the adult role models young people are being tutored by (whether in person or through media) are often not so stellar. This makes good teachers even more essential and believe me, I met many great ones this week.

I saw the look in the eyes of so many students who made it clear that they want to learn how to be somebody when they grow up. They want to know how to get from point A to point B, just like I did when I met Fran at the age of 17 and had only a vague notion that I wanted to be this thing called a writer but had no idea what path one took to get there.

Sadly, too, I saw the look in the eyes of kids who did seem rather disconnected and hard to reach, as though they were hidden behind a veil. There was no way for me, in one hour, to reach through and pull them out, but I certainly hope those young people meet people who can and will do that for them along the way.

Thank you to the Canadian Children’s Book Centre and the sponsors of TD Children’s Book Week. It’s more than just an opportunity to promote one’s work. It’s an opportunity to reach young people and speak to them and encourage them to follow their dreams, as cliched as that sounds. Like I said, they are watching and listening. What motivation it must be for them to see that a writer is not someone far away in some posh place, but someone who, thirty years earlier, was sitting in a classroom learning about symbolism and metaphor, just like them.

That’s what meeting Fran, who is such a fine writer herself, gave me - belief. I hope that I, in turn, have been able to give belief to all those young Manitobans who participated in my workshops with such gusto and talent.

Until next time …

A fierce wind is blowing through still-dark Winnipeg and from my hotel window I am watching the flags below flap like wild in the wind. Bright green candy-cane lights decorate the lamp-posts and a tall red and blue tree of lights shimmers at the corner of Portage and Main. I am going to miss this view. All my life I’ve heard people talk and even sing about Portage and Main and how it’s the coldest corner in Canada. This week has not been cold; it has been unseasonably warm (well 6 - 8 degrees) so I have not felt the full force of the cold, but I can only imagine how bitter it must be when it dips to -50. Yes, my lunchmates yesterday told me that the odd time it can do that. Unbelievable, even for me, who comes from cold Montreal.

I had a great final day yesterday. It began with an early drive north east to Pinawa, which used to be known for its nuclear research facility. The sun came up as we were driving, over the tops of the slightly hillier terrain. The teacher driving me, Dawn, had warned me I might see wildlife in Pinawa, but never did I expect to see so many deer just wandering the streets, even lying in groups on people’s lawns. Of course, for the residents of Pinawa this is a nuisance, but for little old me it was charming. I took lots of shots to prove to the people at home that I’m not lying.

On the way there, I looked at my schedule and realized I’d be speaking to the whole school, 120 students from grades 7 - 12, my biggest audience ever. We had ample time to set up, and Mike, a young guy who they tell me does a fine Johnny Cash impersonation, set up a mike so I didn’t have to shout out into the gym. It is actually quite a daunting feeling staring out at alll those empty seats and thinking that soon they will fill with people who are coming to hear me. Can I hold their interest? Will I be able to capture them? For me, I need to feel I am communicating, not just speaking, so we pulled the chairs as close as we could to the podium, so I could really look into kids’ eyes.

When I was introduced by Gary Hanna (who later drove me home) a cheer went up when he said I was from Montreal. I started my talk by asking what that was all about and it turned out one of the teachers (oh yes, the whole school was there, including the principal) is a Canadiens fan. That immediately put me at ease. I must say it was a very powerful and rewarding feeling to know that I can speak to such a large group and maintain their interest. I really felt like they were with me, listening to me talk about my books and writing. Of course, the pictures of Newfoundland captivate everyone. How could they not?

Gary drove me back, after lunch with members of the library board, and we had such an interesting conversation about heritage, racism, history, Quebec politics, family, life. Some of my most memorable moments of this trip have come from the conversations that spring up in cars. It’s an odd feeling to connect so quickly and in some ways so deeply with someone you really don’t know, in such close quarters, and then to think you will never see them again. Gary was also a great tour guide in Pinawa and I think he got a kick out of how amused I was by the deer.

There were definitely some future writers in Pinawa. I could see them in the crowd and they asked the types of questions I wanted answers to at their age. If I ever do this again, I am going to suggest making time for informal chats with students who really do want to write, more one on one. A girl followed me to the library and said she had questions for her “friend” who wanted to be a writer, but I think it was her.

Tonight, I go the Barber of Seville with Fran and then home tomorrow. Hard to believe. This week has given me so much. I hope I have been able to give back.

Yesterday I worked with a wonderful group of book and writing club kids from Lockport School. The kids had read my new book, which meant I didn’t have to worry about giving too much away. We worked on bringing our writing to life through concrete language: the principle of showing and not telling. The kids really caught on and they produced some wonderful lines and imagery which I know they will use in their stories.

Lockport School struck me as wonderfully designed. It is built in pods, which may sound impersonal, but isn’t. The idea is that each area gets loads of natural light and no classroom is on an inside wall. The classroom was very bright and inviting and this has to translate to brighter students and better learning. In the middle of the pods were alcoves where kids were playing ping-pong, burning off excess energy between classes - what a great idea, rather than forcing kids to “be quiet!” The principal and staff at Lockport School were so welcoming and encouraging and excited. That’s the way it should be, because if they are then the kids pick it up. One teacher even told me that the ending of my book made her cry! What a compliment, believe me.

It is really interesting going into so many schools. Each one has its own energy level, its own aura and flavour. How those translate into learning would need to be studied, but let’s just say that it was pretty clear that where there is energy and excitement, kids seem to be more into reading and writing. However, don’t let me give the impression that there aren’t bright and motivated kids everywhere, no matter what school they are in, because there are.

This morning Ron Thorton, Principal of Yellowquill School in Portage La Prairie, drove me out to his school. What a jolly and good-natured man. He is my ideal of what a school principal should be. He was also a wonderful tour-guide, pointing out interesting things along the way. He ended his morning announcements with “Have a great day and look after each other” which struck me as a very sane and under-stated thing to say.

The class I worked with there (pictured above) was also fantastic. They were all kids who were gifted in creative writing. We jumped right into my show not tell workshop and their writing literally blew me away. Their school also plays the jazziest rendition of Oh Canada I have ever heard, accompanied by what sounded to my untrained ears as an xylophone.

Afterwards, it was on to the Portage Library where 40 kids from the local junior high came in to hear about my new books. Three of them had been to Newfoundland, so they knew a lot about the province where my book is set. They were a captive and lively audience. The kind librarians took me for lunch in a quaint, artsy cafe and then Percy and his wife Linda drove me back. They are such an interesting couple, so wise about so many things. I was thoroughly entertained. I hope they visit me in Montreal some day.

Oh yeah, last night I had dinner with tour organizer Gail Hamilton, her husband Larry, and Dave and Rhea Jenkinson, over in Saint Boniface. Dave is one of the founders of CM Magainze at the University of Manitoba, so it was very interesting to talk to him about books and how they get reviewed. His passion for children’s and young adult lit was so obvious. I also had a chance to hear all the adventures my tour mate, Jacob Berkowitz has been having up north in Thompson.

How will I ever return to normal life?

Greetings from Manitoba. Now that I am back in Winnipeg, I can fill you in on my tour. I have just returned from doing presentations in Morris (where Sandra Birdsell is from, I think), Morden, Winkler and Altona (which boasts the world’s largest painting on an easel - a replica of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers). What a time I have had. I love the flat lands, the way you can see miles ahead, the way you don’t have to hold your breath when pulling out to pass a semi because you can see so clearly and for so far, the way cruise control takes over and people are free to talk with their hands while driving.

I have met so many wonderful librarians (me and Mary Toma, head librarian above) who have chauffered me around and made me feel so important. The kids ask such wonderful questions and they come from interesting backgrounds, mostly Mennonite, and some come into the room speaking German, or a dialect of German, which I never expected and which I can almost understand. The libraries (all very impressive) have sections in Russian, German, Ukranian and Spanish. The latter is because there are many people newly arrived from Mexico who have roots way back in Manitoba’s mennonite community.

Did I mention that the sunset and sunrise which I caught from the Super 8 motel in Morden were breath-taking, although the locals say they’ve seen a lot better. If I could have stayed up, I’d have run out into the field to see the meteor shower last night.

People seem to be finding my presentation on If You Live LIke Me very interesting, especially when I show off my pictures of Newfoundland. It’s a funny thing to be doing on the prairies. Lots of the kids can relate to my main character, Cheryl, because of how many times they have also moved in their lives. They all strike me as bright and eager to learn, as young people should be. Their teachers are like English teachers at John Abbott - working hard at getting the kids into reading and writing.

A fierce wind is blowing at the corner of Portage and Main and my dinner beckons, so farewell for now. Oh yeah, I’ll be interviewed on the radio in the morning. I feel like such a rock star!
Lori