Preserving Your Library - Smith Meyer

"When an old man dies, a library burns to the ground," is an African proverb many of us have heard. As authors, we cringe to think of such waste.

That adage came to my mind in stark reality this past month. Within two weeks, I attended the funeral of my 68 year-old brother and a 90 year-old aunt. I wondered how many stories died with them.

My brother’s funeral came first. He was a busy man, always looking out for others, often to the detriment of his own work. We became more aware of how many and how much as we stood in line for the visitation and when well over 600 paid their final respects at his funeral service. Many spoke of him as their spiritual father. Community and business people told of his kindness and concern for their welfare. Many stood when asked to do so, if they had spent time in his class room, and some spoke of the great influence he had on their lives. I feel sure there were many more stories that could have been told.

Aunt Bernice’s funeral was a glorious triumphant home-going for a faithful saint. The funeral was almost completely conducted by her family--sermon and all. Stories were told of her as a trustworthy companion to her husband, a watchmaker, her dependability as a mother--her encouraging ways and her gentle reprimands. Her grandchildren recounted happy times they spent with their grandparents and the lasting influence on their lives. It was a heart-warming day

Both of these occasions were indeed full of story-telling and as usual, I hoped those who this was all about were told at least some of those stories while they were still with us. However, I believe those tales were just the proverbial tip of the iceberg and only what others knew about them. How many insights, how many personal experiences could have benefited those left behind, had they been put on paper? I cringed at the waste!

Soon the Haiti earthquake struck—more libraries burned down in the space of minutes! And yet out of the rubble miraculous stories arise. Accounts of bravery, or self-giving, an outpouring of money, materials and energy in this impoverished country—some survived and others didn’t, but their story will go on and perhaps inspire others to give their time and money in similar ways.

These happenings renew my desire to write, write, write. Not that I have that much wisdom, but I have been taught valuable lessons in my years of living—many coming from learning through mistakes. I know that, through reading, I have gained much from others’ experiences. Some have guided me through my own life-happenings and some have helped me avoid more of my own blunders, steering me through the obstacles to a clearer path. Some have inspired me to give more in whatever way I can give. I owe them a debt of gratitude and an obligation to pass on my own stories and those of others. God gave me the desire and ability to write and I want to use the gifts given to me in the best way I can. Is it coincidence that my children's book, Tyson's Sad Bad Day just arrived? It is a book helping children and their parents deal with death and grief. Check it out at http://www.wordalivepress.ca/authors.html

And if God has called you to write, don’t wait any longer—write!

The Sleeping Giant Awakens - M. D. Meyer

I was recently at a conference in Brandon, Manitoba which featured dialogue and readings by twenty-four prominent Aboriginal authors from across Canada. Joseph Boyden, winner of a Giller (and many other awards!) was there. Renowned author, Basil Johnston honored us with a literary reading. Michael Kusugak, author of the children’s book, A Promise is a Promise spoke of how his books were based on stories his grandmother told him while their family was wintering on the ice flows in Hudson’s Bay. Many (young) people will remember reading in high school the book, In Search of April Raintree by Beatrice Mosionier. Beatrice was one of the many authors who shared their writing journey with the audience gathered at the 2nd bi-annual Ogamas Aboriginal Literary Festival.

When I was a young kid in school (many moons ago!), there was no Aboriginal literature available at all. The Native kids that I knew were well-known for their beautiful artwork but were always poor in English and writing skills. No surprise, really, since English was a second language to them. In those years, I suppose what was assumed by most was that the Aboriginal people had no great stories to tell and no great story-tellers to tell them. How far from the truth that was!

Now, finally, the sleeping giant has awoken. The pioneers of Canadian Aboriginal literature, Basil Johnston (Ojibway Heritage, 1976), Beatrice Mosionier (April Raintree, 1983) and Emma LaRocque (Defeathering the Indian, 1975) faced and overcame many challenges. Today, they are joined by a wealth of writers including humourist, Drew Hayden Taylor; journalist, Colleen Simard; poet, Marilyn Dumont; and young adult author, Jennifer Storm. No longer limited to legends and “protest literature,” Aboriginal writings are winning major literary awards for their excellence in such varied fields as critical text, gothic novels, humour and children’s literature (to name but a few).

And there are many more authors to follow. Here in Norway House, for example, I know that Aboriginal high school students are prepared for, and encouraged to pursue, a career as authors, journalists or playwrights. And I can personally attest to the fact that there are already some very good writers among them.

As Canadian Christian writers, we face some challenges – getting Canadian books into Christian bookstores, getting Christian books into mainstream bookstores and so on. We know and understand these challenges. Canadian Aboriginal writers face similar obstacles. Their books should not be relegated to “Aboriginal collections” in select University libraries. We should be seeing this incredible wealth of literature represented in all of our bookstores, libraries and schools. It is we ourselves who will be missing out if we do not open our eyes to this awakening giant. The Aboriginal writing community is growing and getting stronger every day (April Raintree annually sells over 6,000 copies worldwide). As Canadians and as Christian writers, editors, booksellers and book buyers, we need to get on board and support our fellow Canadian writers in the Aboriginal community. It is our responsibility and it is our privilege.

The Haberdasher: A Story about the Value of Art-ARENDS

There has been a lot of talk lately about the plummeting value (or perceived value) of creative work. It's gotten me thinking about a great story my musician buddy Spencer used to tell about a renowned haberdasher (hat-maker).

A woman walked into the haberdasher's shop and asked if he would make her a hat. He agreed and told her to pick out a swath of ribbon. She selected some striking gold ribbon; in a matter of moments the haberdasher's experienced and gifted hands had transformed the material into a beautiful headcovering.

The woman was delighted--until she asked the haberdasher what his fee would be. When he named the price, the woman gasped. "You want HOW MUCH for a few meters of ribbon?"

Carefully, the hat-maker unravelled his handiwork, transforming the hat back into the raw material he had made it from. He smiled, folded the ribbon neatly, and handed it to the woman. "Madam, the ribbon is free."

All you authors and musicians and actors and painters out there--keep making hats. And all you who enjoy the work of creative hands, value it. In tough times we can still use the dollars we have to vote for truth and art and beauty. And really fine hats.

Blessings,

Carolyn Arends

www.carolynarends.com
www.conversantlife.com

now available: Wrestling With Angels
"Carolyn observes keenly, reflects deeply, and renders it all poetically. Wrestling With Angels is a book I can give to almost anyone with confidence it will speak truth in the inmost places." -- Mark Buchanan, author

They Love Me, They Love Me Not... - Lindquist

One of the most difficult aspects of becoming a writer is discovering that at any stage of the process, there are all sorts of people who are more than willing to tell you what they think of your product.

Okay, was that a bit harsh? Those golden words you’ve agonized over, the subtle humour, the precise phrases, the edgy ideas that were going to excite and challenge and leave readers begging for more—nothing but a product? Say what?

I remember one writer who lovingly passed her manuscript to me as though handing her baby to a construction worker straddling a girder on what will eventually become the twentieth floor of a new skyscraper. At the time, I wasn’t sure if she would actually leave it with me or if she would wait until the last second, then pull it out of my hands and take it back home with her.

Of course, in a way, it was her baby. Her first novel, it represented hours of creative genius, hard work, amazement, pride, and not a few tears.

The difference is that few people would ever look at your baby and exclaim, “Ugh! This is terrible!” and drop it. But people are more than willing to say that and more about your writing. And that is why my friend was so hesitant to give me her first novel. She knew I might tell her she couldn’t write. Couldn’t even begin to write. Might just as well take up knitting and not waste any more of her time or mine….

Fortunately, I didn’t say any of those things, and, in fact, I recently read her publisher’s advance reading copy of the book.

Ah, publishers….Let’s say that, like my friend, you finally, in some way and at some time, find a publisher. Now you can relax and bask in the glory of having a book.

Not.

When your book is published, there will be many more people who are happy to tell you what they think of it.

Your friends and family are probably going to be nice, although you can’t assume that. (You also can’t actually assume your friends and family will ever buy a copy of your book, but that’s another topic. Let’s assume some of them do—or you willingly or unwillingly give them copies.) Aunt Bertha may fall asleep reading it—and laughingly tell that story to everyone she knows. Your mother may be upset that you bragged about that incident she’d rather everyone forgot. Your grade four Sunday school teacher may be horrified that you were able to write the gory scene on page 172.

And some people you know of them will look you in the eye and say, “I read your book.” And stop there. And you want to encourage them to go further. The word “And…?” sits on the tip of your tongue. But you keep it inside. You’re afraid to say it because maybe they’ll tell you what they really thought of the book, and of course, it will never be good. And then you wonder if they feel you should be giving them a prize for actually getting through the book.

And then there are the total strangers who read it and decide to let you know about the typo on page one or the incorrect details on page 83 or the completely impossible plot twist on page 350 (yes, the climax.). Of course, you want to know these things. You need to know them. But after all that editing, you can’t believe there are still problems. And you wonder if the editor might be to blame. But then you go back to your original copy and—there it is. Sigh.

And, finally, you have the reviewers. They say any review is better than no review, and I guess it’s true, but—that doesn’t mean a bad review doesn’t hurt. And a review where the reviewer clearly had no idea why you wrote the book or what you were attempting to do really hurts.

However there is good news. You can be glad all this doesn’t happen in front of millions of readers on a program like American Idol with Simon Cowell as the reviewer.

www.njlindquist.com