Friday 27 July 2018

Slowing Down

On my lunch hour from work, I usually use the time to run errands on foot. In addition to getting things done, it has the added bonus of increasing my step count.

This photo is a complete brag, except for my sleep stat which is shameful.

Because the main branch of the Waterloo Public Library is walking distance from my office, it is a frequent destination. They have a great kid's section where I can pick up the next in the Ramona Quimby series to read to my girls at bedtime.

Usually it's just a quick stop to drop off or pick up books before I'm off to the grocery store to get something for dinner, or the drug store to spend a small fortune on sunscreen, but today...today I didn't have anywhere else to go. So I stayed and read.

Possums, it was wonderful.

The experience was made even better by the fact that it was frivolous reading. I picked up a magazine and read it idly.While leafing through the pages (and finding a recipe for a watermelon cocktail that I will absolutely be making tonight), I thought about the future. Retirement, when my kids are gone, and reading at the library could be my day's entire plan.

Idle distraction.


It's going to be fabulous.

Saturday 14 July 2018

Writer In Residence

While a good chunk of my library use is the traditional borrowing of books, I also frequent the many programs and resources on offer. I probably check the library calendar once a week to keep up to date with all the opportunities (for free!).

The KPL calendar

It’s through this calendar that I discovered the library’s Writer-in-Residence program which brings in an established writer to give lectures, presentations, and also offer one-on-one manuscript appraisals to a few lucky writers. I was especially thrilled this year when I discovered the WIR would be Camilla Gibb whose writing I enjoy and admire. When I got the email telling me I’d been selected to sit down with Ms Gibb to discuss my writing I was excited, but also nervous. You see, this wouldn’t be my first trip to the WIR rodeo. My first trip had also been through the KPL, a few years back, and it had not gone well.



When I’d been on maternity leave with my daughter I decided to write a young-adult novel. It was written mostly in half hour chunks while she napped in her swing behind me. It was about a high school production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and the main character was a student who was crossing over from the athletic world of jocks to the land of the drama geeks. When I saw that the library offered consultation with a professional writer, I submitted an application.


I got the email that I’d be meeting with the author and I submitted an excerpt. Now, because the Internet is forever, I’m going to take the high road and not name the author, but please know how much self-control that is taking. If you see me at a party (and particularly if I have a glass of wine in my hand), know that I will dish freely if you happen to be interested. Suffice it to say, our genres were very different, perhaps (as I would find out), not even compatible.

Sadly not my glass of wine. Also not my hand.

The day arrived, and as I sat clutching my work and waiting for my turn, I gave myself over to grandiose dreams. Perhaps this writer would put in a good word with a publisher. Could a movie deal really be that far behind? I was feeling good, is the point. The feeling did not last.


Given that I was an inexperienced writer, and this was my first novel, realistically I knew it wouldn’t be great work. I didn’t think (and I still don’t) that it was Nick Miller zombie novel bad, but it absolutely needed some work (but come on, Nick’s book sounds amazing - I would totally read the heck out of it). The consultation started off badly when I realized I’d made a mistake. The application told me to send an excerpt if my work was longer than 2500 words (which it was), so I selected a part from the middle that I quite liked. It was a moment when my main character was feeling defeated, but finds an unlikely ally. Apparently, though, I was supposed to send the beginning, because that’s what the author assumed she was reading. I quickly told her that I hadn’t submitted the beginning, but rather a part from the middle, thinking that we would have a good laugh and continue, but...I don’t know, maybe she didn’t hear me? She kept right on telling me that I was presenting characters without context, that there was no build up to the story. I kept agreeing with her, that this would have been a strange place to start a story, but it seemed that once she had made her notes she wouldn’t deviate from them.


But I soon saw that even if I had sent the beginning of the book, this evaluation wouldn’t have been any better. She hated my writing. She told me repeatedly how boring my premise was, suggesting I turn the beloved drama teacher character into a sexual predator. At one point she asked me “why would anybody write about this?” I have no idea if this was a rhetorical question or not, but I certainly didn’t have an answer. On and on it went while I pretended to take notes but really just tried not to fall apart. Near the end she looked down at her notes on my work and said “wow, these comments are a little harsh.” Meaning that the evisceration I had been experiencing was the gentle version of her thoughts. I knew at that moment that I would never read her notes - I needed to preserve some self-confidence.

Actual photograph of my withered self-confidence.


Our meeting concluded with her handing me my pages with her “harsh” notes scrawled all over them in red, and her parting words of “good luck” which have never been delivered so unconvincingly. I stuffed the notes into a drawer at home and have not looked at my book since. It was a remarkably discouraging experience.


So I was a little nervous about going to another Writer-in-Residence, but the university that I work at was bringing in writer Pasha Malla (who I’m happy to name here), and the timing coincided with a creative writing course I was taking. So I went to see him and it was fabulous. He gave me great advice, was encouraging, and even suggested I look at submitting the story for publication. My streak continued with the next WIR, Emily Urquhart, who was also incredibly generous, provided great notes, and invited me to read at a literary event held on campus. Writerly fame and fortune had to be close behind! (In spite of everything, I have managed to maintain my self-delusions.)


Bringing us back to present day. My confidence had been restored somewhat by these positive experiences, but I was still nervous about meeting Camilla Gill to talk about a new short story I was working on at the same site as my previous humiliation. Thankfully, right from the first moment, she was supportive and positive, the word boring never once leaving her lips. 

Encouragement from Camilla Gibb!

She had questions for me and she actually listened to my answers. Her suggestions took what I had already written further, rather than trying to change the path of the story. She laughed at the parts of the story that were funny. She liked my ending. With three good experiences now under my belt, I was able to see my first trip to a WIR as, perhaps, the anomaly, at least in tone. I was encouraged to work harder at my writing, rather than give up. And so, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go now to edit my story. I don’t want to disappoint Camilla Gibb.