For those of you who don’t want to read all of it (though I think you should! It’s very well-written), here are the main points I took away from it:

• Take the time to create a history for your story or novel. Even if you don’t write fantasy, readers need to feel drawn in and surrounded by the world you’re creating.
• Don’t overexplain everything. It might feel weird, but keep some things mysterious or hinted at and let the reader keep coming back to find out more.
• Write from your passion – themes and thoughts you keep returning to personally are bound to translate in a complex and evolving way in your writing.
• Trust that your readers want to participate in and explore your work. By leaving certain things open to interpretation, you are making readers partners in the creative process.
• Check your facts!
• When writing, don’t resist letting the story or characters unfold in a different way than you’d intended.

Do writers think they’re as great as their readers do?

I had wondered about it because, as I uncrumpled and smoothed out sheet after sheet of newsprint, I noticed that I don’t really feel very connected with any of my stories. I mean, I do feel connected, but not nearly as much as I feel about some of my favourite short stories others have written. I can easily read Lorrie Moore’s Dance in America every month and still love it as much as I did the first time I read it – and that’s just one example. So it made me think – does Lorrie Moore hate Dance in America? Does she lose herself in it the same way I do, reading it? Or does she think, “Now why did I make him say that?” like I think about my own stories? I mean, I’ve never finished a story, sat back and thought, “This is among the greatest things ever written.” I’ve only ever thought, “This is finished now.”

I’m not saying I don’t like my work. I do. I just never like it as much as I like Lorrie Moore’s, or Alice Munro’s, or AS Byatt’s.

My husband’s opinion was that writers probably can’t disconnect themselves from their own work enough to adore what they write the same way their readers do. And, basically, I’m not a freak who writes consistently boring stories. Which, I suppose, was the secondary, underlying question to that.

So, what do you think? Can writers hold their work in the same high regard as their readers? Or, because they created it, are they always examining their work with a critical eye?

I took a break to help him finally deal with the leftover moving boxes that were waiting to go down to recycling. First, we had to take all the discarded newsprint out of each one, spread it out flat, rinse, repeat. Let me tell you, there was a lot of newsprint. However, it turned out to be great for working out the knots my brain was making. I got to focus on something other than worrying what the buildings in Winnipeg are made of (yes, it’s important), so every 10 minutes something awesome popped into my head and I went promptly to write it down.

I’ve also started taking a walk every day – there’s a good-sized park near my new apartment so I have plenty of new places to see. I’m finding this is also helping me to think of new ideas or ways to improve on my old ones.

It’s not revelatory, I know. But really, it works! Do something monotonous, try not to get a repetitive stress injury at the same time, and I bet your writer’s block will go away.

It’s all happening quite quickly – we’re moving in May. I can still work for my clients virtually. I didn’t expect to be able to pick up my freelancing business and transfer it to Toronto, so I’m very lucky. We’ve even got an apartment. Now, the next hurdle is finding a Canadian moving company that is BBB accredited and gets generally good reviews – a harder task than it seems. If anyone has a recommendation, I’m all ears!

I’m excited to move but, at the same time, a little nervous. Toronto is my home (in fact, I’ll be living a nine-minute drive from the first place I ever lived), but I’ve lived in Calgary for so long. I’m such a Calgarian about some things. My initial reaction to learning there was no independent cafe in my neighbourhood was, “UGH. I’ll have to drive!” That’s just not true in Toronto! It’ll be interesting to see the ways in which Calgary has made me regard city living.

Well! In writing news, my husband has a short story of mine in his hand right now, ready to mail to a literary magazine. That makes two stories I have out in the world, something that hasn’t happened in quite a long time. I feel good about it. I had actually given up on one of the stories for several months until, inspired by my last post, I decided to read it again. I liked it! Very little work was needed, which is always exciting.

Lastly, I want to share a video my friend Gail posted on her blog, called The Future of Publishing. As Gail describes it, “If you are at all concerned with the future of publishing, or think that books are a thing of the past, then you need to watch this video.” And speaking of Gail, she was actually interviewed by The New Yorker! Here’s her blog post about it. Congratulations Gail! When I’d heard about the interview, I joked to her that I should’ve given her a story to sneak into the slush pile – that’s ethical, right?

(Photo from Flickr user yorkville.)

Either way, I’m here to tell you it works. The other day, I unearthed a story I’d written seven years ago and completely forgotten about. I was prepared to pull my face off in embarrassment as I read it, but the shocking thing was – I actually liked it! At that time in my writing life, I didn’t focus too much on traditional story structure or really even a traditional plot arc. I’d come across examples of this earlier, more experimental writing that made me roll my eyes, but this one pleasantly surprised me. If I may toot my own horn a bit, I found it was smart and flowed quite well. Of course, I’m not going to go into details about an unfinished story here, but suffice it to say that it just needs a small bit of polish (I mean, I really like plot and characterization now) and I’ll be happy to send it out into the world!

Success! It’s almost like I didn’t really have to do much of anything to get a completed short story. It’s like a gift from Me of the Past.

Seriously – who said that thing about putting your writing away in a drawer? Part of me thinks it’s someone ridiculous like Plato, but maybe it’s Zadie Smith. Does anyone know?

Yes, this looks like an ad for Ikea’s Poäng chair, but it’s not. This is my favourite writing spot in the house. There are windows along one wall and continuing for a bit around a corner, so I feel surrounded by light. And, okay, the Poäng chair is pretty comfortable too.

So. What education is needed to become a copywriter? My subjective answer is: absolutely none. And here is why I say this: I am a copywriter and I have no education.

Well, not no education. I did graduate high school, but that’s about it. I know now that I can hold some out-of-date opinions about how to move through the world. This was evidenced when, upon graduating high school, I decided it would be more logical to spend my post-high school years in the working world. I would enter at the lowest level and work my way up, just like in the wholesome ’50s! At the time, I dreamed of working in publishing. I sent my wee resume along to every publisher in Toronto, with a cheeky letter saying, essentially, “I love books and will sweep floors if I have to.” I was surprised at the time that nobody took me up on this too-good-to-miss offer.

I ended up working in restaurants, pursuing web and magazine writing opportunities as they arose in my free time. As always, I read a lot and wrote as much as I could, getting used to adapting my voice and tone to the subject matter. After a few years I moved to Calgary and began working office jobs, including my first marketing & communications job, which I held for five years. The rest, if I may be cheesy, is history.

Now, I’m not advocating shunning post-secondary education in the least. In fact, by rights I shouldn’t have even got that job I just mentioned – the posting called for someone with a BA. It was just luck that they overlooked that. I’m merely saying that, with copywriting, all you really need to succeed is a good grasp of spelling and grammar and a way with words. I have those things naturally (tooting my own horn, yes). I like to think that early employers took a chance on me because they liked my writing (I still hold the record for best speller at the aforementioned marketing & communications job), and sensed how much I love writing.  As a freelance copywriter, I’ve not had a single prospective client ask about my education. They only care about how awesome I can make their project sound. In the end, experience spoke louder for me than any degree I could get.

What do you think? Is higher education necessary to become a copywriter?

(Image courtesy of stock.xchng user tsunei.)

My dear friend Suzen and I, among the many things we have in common, share the unique preoccupation with Home that only being away from it can bring. Admittedly, her Home, Newfoundland, is a bit more picturesque and immediately evocative than mine. However, Ontario works its way into almost everything I write. There’s even a literary style named for my home region, though I don’t think my fiction fits into it – much as I’d love it to.

So, it made my wee expat heart soar to read:

This summer, Ontario’s literary history will become a permanent part of the province’s physical landscape with a new project called Ontario: Read It Here.

A series of eight plaques will be installed across the province in the exact geographic location where Ontario-based literary scenes takes place.

The full article can be read here. Having lived here in Alberta for nearly a decade, I’ve taken my fair share of lumps about being an Ontarian. Say what you will about Ontario – I’m excited about this and wish I could see it!

I decided to continue once I realized my mistake. I was disheartened at the beginning because it started out so confusingly, Lessing listing her grandparents and talking about them in a way that was hard to follow. I almost gave up, especially since the book was volume one of two and not at all short. But, happily, it got loads better. There wasn’t really a structure to the autobiography. I mean, yes, she does tell her story chronologically, but she digresses into stories and memories that might not have to do with the “plot,” at least not obviously. And she does this in such a compelling way; her stories are so interesting and her tone is so engaging. She was born in Iran and grew up in Zimbabwe, the daughter of British parents who were farming in “the colonies,” and was also a Communist. Though she seemed to like living there (even if her childhood wasn’t perfect), she has a pretty realistic view of this time in history; she leans towards the side of “this was a kind of ridiculous time and I tried to change it in my own way.” Also, I love when people branch off into side stories, especially elderly people who often have a lot of great stories.

Anyway, I read the book eagerly and am now reading the second volume, starting after she leaves Zimbabwe for England with her young son. She writes about her writing process and I thought it’d be useful to share. She writes:

Impossible to describe a writer’s life, for the real part of it cannot be written down. How did my day go in those early days in London, in Church Street? I woke at five, when the child did. He came into my bed, and I told or read him stories or rhymes. We got dressed, he ate, and then I took him to the school up the street . . . I shopped a little, and then my real day began. The feverish need to get this or that done . . . had to be subdued to the flat, dull state one needs to write in . . .

And now, on the little table that has been cleared of breakfast things, replaced by scattered sheets of paper, is the typewriter, waiting for me. Work begins. I do not sit down but wander around the room. I think on my feet . . . I find myself in the chair by the machine. I write a sentence . . . will it stand? But never mind, look at it later, just get on with it, get the flow started. And so it goes on. I walk and I prowl, my hands busy with this and that . . . I walk, I write. If the telephone rings I try to answer it without breaking the concentration. And so it goes on, all day, until it is time to fetch the child from school or until he arrives at the door . . .

So that’s the outline of a day. But nowhere in it is there the truth of the process of writing. I fall back on that useful word ‘wool-gathering.’ And this goes on when you are shopping, cooking, anything. You are reading but find the book has lowered itself: you are wool-gathering. The creative dark. Incommunicable.

She then goes on to recount how different publishing was back then, in the ’50s, how there used to be a close relationship between writer and publisher/editor, and books were sometimes published even though they wouldn’t make any money – just because they were good. Thoroughly depressing. This is why I like small/independent publishing. For the love! Or any other, less cheesy, phrase you’d like to substitute.

Anyway, this was long but I hope it was interesting. Personally, I can’t get enough of reading about the writing/creative process!

A few weeks ago, I turned on the TV randomly to find PBS was airing a special on Mavis Gallant. I watched happily, because I love her. I discovered her quite late, via a Writers & Company podcast a few years ago. To be honest, I haven’t even read too much of her work, but I love her all the same. I like that she’s kind of scrappy and refuses to answer any questions she feels breaches her privacy. I like that she hasn’t lived in Canada for decades and isn’t a particular paragon of the CanLit “scene,” yet we haven’t turned our backs on her.

I like her more now that I’ve finally stopped confusing her, for some reason, with Doris Lessing, who have little in common besides their relative age and scrappiness (I’m sensing a theme here). I had my notebook ready to write down things Gallant said during her interviews, but I was so focused on listening and wrote nothing down. These photos I took will have to do!