Month: August 2013

  • Word Witcher

    I have an artist friend who hasn’t been able to finish her website because of all the little decisions that have to be made: colours, text, logo, fonts, message… I understand. Take the business cards I’m trying to finalize for marketing my next book. A few words, a couple of colours, three weeks later and the mock-up still isn’t at the printers because of one niggling question. What do I want to call myself? A writer or an author?

    There’s a huge debate in the writing world about what each of these words means and whether an author is really a writer or just a published personality. Or whether a writer really cares about being published and marketing their work. I confess, I don’t know a writer who doesn’t want a readership. Being published by other people is often a good check that the writing has integrity. Yet there’s no hard and fast on this as anyone in the publishing business will tell you.

    That debate aside, neither author nor writer really expresses all of who I am. I have had many lives. I brainstormed over email one night with another writer friend: so what if I called myself a word witcher? She loved it. Yes, it expresses so many layers of who you are, your rural roots, it makes one think of water witching, spirituality and women’s work.

    I like the idea of word witching, maybe because one of my stories in this collection is about a water witcher (so this is really some clever marketing ploy), but also, like witchers of water, one has to listen to language’s internal rhythms, spirits and intuitions to find the thread of the story or the vein of a poem. It’s often an irrational process, even dream-like and when one finds the mother lode, it is like a minor miracle.

    So what did I decide? Writer or author or word witcher? No one role can describe all of who I am. I think that’s true for most of us. My name is probably the best descriptor there is and so I’ve decided that that’s enough.

  • Lughnasa, August 1, 2013

    Lughnasa, August 1, 2013

    When I tell people that I live in Boyle Street, they often look a little surprised, even concerned. Yes, some pockets are rough, but some pockets are gold. Maybe it’s because many people here have next to nothing that they make the most of the little they have, why some boulevards, tiny porches and postage-stamp front yards are jam-packed with blooms this time of year. Why people grow marigolds and red poppies right up against 107A Avenue, merry-making of the traffic and the concrete that flows past everyday.

    We are entering the season of harvests. Irish Folklorist, Máire MacNeil, in her tome, The Festival of Lughnasa, relates an old man’s account of a harvest fair held in Lehinch (pronounced la hinge) on the first Sunday in August. He recounts that the fair was full of “tricksters”: musicians, dancers, flame eaters, card sharks, gypsies, young men going from public house to public house, young women in ritual at the well of Liscannor, horse racing along “the strand” and noise everywhere.

    Think of Boyle Street like one continuous harvest festival. Indeed the whole city at this time of year. Full of tricksters and buskers and the bottle pickers on the backlanes heading for festival after festival, that all in some way celebrate the gift of the sun and the land and the growing of things.

    Publishing, too, is full of twists and turns, and my experience no different, full of last minute hitches and hiccups and near snafus. But the book is safely off to the printer at last. I hope you will help me celebrate this harvest of mine: I’ll be launching The Glorious Mysteries and Other Stories in September in Edmonton, Saskatoon, Calgary, Camrose and Lethbridge. Watch for a note with full details later in the month.

    For now, you are invited to the Edmonton launch:

    Where: Audrey’s Books, 10702 Jasper Avenue
    When: 7:00 p.m., Thursday, September 26
    What: Reading and refreshments

    Everyone is welcome. But to help with planning, please RSVP by replying to this email.

    Meanwhile, I hope you will engage in some tricks and shenanigans of your own this harvest season.

    In gratitude,

    Audrey