When I say I hate book signings and such, I really mean it - Denyse O'Leary

(Apologies for the previous coding mess. I will try to delete it, but here is a correct version of my post - what  I really intended you to see -  Denyse)

Wendy Elaine Nelles is a Word Guild founder with the most amazing gift for finding worthwhile topics for writers. You can read some of her finds at Future Tense, but for the rest, I suspect you must join
us.

Anyway, Wendy set me thinking, when she wrote "An author I admire posted a link to this blog post (10 Awful Truths About Book Publishing), and provided some rallying cries against the awful state of the industry.

From the perspective of an already wornout writer, struggling to keep up, I replied, tongue partly in cheek, to his seven rallies:


Just some thoughts from an author who is now working on an exhausting book, responding to Daniel:

1. Pass-Along Sales: If you aren't sure what "Pass-Along Sales" are. "Pass-along sales" mean that people are not buying books for themselves as much; instead they are buying books for others and passing along the books to them. Parents are buying books for their children; group leaders are buying books for group members; CEOs buying for their staff, etc. Huge market and potential here.

[Yes, but at what cost to the usefulness of one's endeavours? I write books about current events in science that impact faith. If it is really true that people buy them only to give them to their overworked pastor who needs a vacation, NOT another mission-related book or to their underinterested nephew who will never read any book, I may as well quit now. At this point, the only thing that sustains me is the many people who have written to say thatT
he Spiritual Brain immensely helped them, by demonstrating clearly that the "science"-based assault on the reality of the life of the spirit is without a factual basis.]


2. Events/immersion experiences replace traditional publicity in moving the needle: It's getting harder and harder to be heard by traditional PR methods. Instead, focusing on doing events, speaking engagements, etc where participants hear your message and buy your book as a result is a key strategy to take.

[I am a good, some say, excellent, writer, but find public speaking and author events exhausting and unproductive. For one thing, such events attract professional literary event goers. My target audience is usually people who have been told a lot of garbage in the name of science, and need someone to help them straighten it out, with reference to such issues as: How do we know this? Who said? Are there other plausible views? They rarely go to such events.]

3. Leverage the authors' and publishers' communities: No brainer here. Every author hears about "Platform" which is just another way to talk about your own following. Build a community and you have qualified buyers. It's simple to know, harder to achieve but with hard work you can. Put your community first. Serve them. Build into them. Add value and they will respond.

["With hard work you can." Just what I had feared. I find quality writing exhausting, and simply don't have the energy to ragged-run a PR campaign for my books.]

4. In a crowded market, brands stand out: Be unique. Be identifiable. Have a value promise that you can deliver on and that people come to trust. Brands are not built overnight. Stay the course, be strong and be true to who you need to be.

[I am strong and true to who I am (I have no idea what the "need to be" part is about). But I am not a brand. I am not trying to be a celeb, just a quality-trusted writer who hopes to make a living. And I think that celebrity is usually the froth on top of silly ideas, not part of the bedrock of sound ones.]

5. Master new sales and marketing channels: This doesn't just mean being active on Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn. It means looking for new markets and new ways to distribute your book/content. Identify niche opportunities such as selling your book in bulk to a specialized industry or group. Look for creative packaging ideas where your book is included as part of XYZ purchase, etc. Get creative. Think BIG and go after it.

[I've never had much time for Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn. I mean that literally. I don't dispraise them. It's just that I have literally 15 books to read, related to my project, and about two hundred articles, just to tackle Chapter 3. Either I do a good job or I am active on Twitter. I urge no one to follow my choice, but for the sake of the integrity of my work, I know what that choice will be. ]

6. Build books around a big new idea: Don't regurgitate what everyone else is saying. Say it in a new way. You can speak truth or a core foundational principle but you have to find a unique way to do it, a "Big Idea" that others can grasp a hold of. You've heard it said that people buy the sizzle before they buy the steak, same goes here. It's your HOOK, your big idea that reels them in.

[Hmmm. I see a book landing on my desk for review that should have been one well-written paragraph. Many books should just have been published as the prospectus and a few sizzlers.]

7. Front-load the main ideas in books and keep books short: So many authors miss this. They try to build their content and back load the juicy stuff so what happens is most books start out dry and not that interesting. What happens? Readers don't make it past the first chapter but had they made it to chapter 2 and beyond they would have been blown away. Give them the good stuff up front. Don't make them wait because guess what. they won't. Attention spans have changed and how people engage with content has as well.

[What if my primary commitment is to a logical argument that proceeds by steps? Not every step in the argument is, or can be, the Apocalypse. But let's make a deal. I respect your intellect. You respect mine. So let me take you through my best shot at the simplest exposition of an issue in science that impacts faith. It won't be boring but it won't be fireworks all the way to town either. More like a journey through a countryside you hadn't seen before or never noticed.

In my view, much of the problem is a decline in respect for the intellect. When people read only for entertainment, they soon discover other, easier sources of entertainment. Then the quality of writing becomes irrelevant.

And I think I shall be happy to retire shortly.]

Parents' Legacy - Shepherd

One month ago today, my father left us to go to Heaven. His passing, like so many passages in life provided for me an occasion to reflect about existential questions. For my husband Glen and me, he was the last of our four parents to pass away. Few people have a greater influence upon our lives than our parents and our parents-in-law. That was certainly the case for us. The passing of the last one marks the end of a part of our family history. Now our children have no living grandparents. Perhaps this end of an era focused my thinking about what it is they have left behind.

What is the legacy of our parents? I am not thinking about what they may or may not have left us materially. That will only be temporary anyway. I am thinking more about what footprints they have left on our hearts. These are those things they have left us, that will endure.

When my mother passed away two years ago, I became conscious of the legacy of love that she left us and was grateful. From the pile of notes that I have received from all over the world, I realize that my father’s life influenced people in diverse parts of the world. He left behind the books that he wrote and they have some durability. Several people have written to tell how what Dad wrote made a significant impression on their lives. These are valuable footprints on their hearts. Others can tell me of the specific sermons where he painted word pictures that made truths of the Bible come alive to them in a new way as he preached. These footprints he was also able to leave on lives.

Ironically when I visited him during his days in the long term care facility where he lived, he was sometimes troubled that he was no longer able to do much to serve the Lord. He feared he would be found unfaithful, when he finally stood before the Lord to give an accounting of his service. At those times, I reminded him how grateful we were daily for the support of his prayers. They were an investment in our lives.

The importance of these footprints that are left on the heart are clear from a tribute that I received from folks my father worked with in South Africa in the early seventies. Their note brought tears of joy to my eyes when I opened my inbox on Saturday morning and read it.

They told me that they received the communication of my father's passing from The Salvation Army’s International Headquarters last week. They wanted to write and express their sincere sympathy. They said, “We know that you will miss his love and also his interest in your work for the Master.” That is true.

They went on to tell how they remembered both my father and my mother, with warmth and pleasure as well as with a sense of deep admiration. They talked about working together under the leadership of my father and mother. They said of Dad, “Not only was he an excellent speaker and organizer but also a tenderhearted compassionate man.”

Then they went on to tell of a dreadful tragedy in their family when a brother and sister along with their twin daughters were killed in a motor accident. This couple travelled up to Johannesburg from Cape Town for the funeral. The leader of The Salvation Army in South Africa at the time, who they said was also a kind fatherly gentleman, invited the couple into his office before the funeral to tell him all about what had happened.

During this conversation, my dad was present and he sat and listened attentively to the story. He never said a word, but suddenly in the midst of the interview, great big tears began to roll down over his cheeks. They wrote that his tears spoke to them of a sympathy and love and concern for them in their loss. In their words, “That spoke volumes!”

It was quite amazing to me that more than 35 years after the event, these folks would still carry these footprints on their hearts, created by my father’s tears as he shared their pain.

Wouldn’t you like to be able to leave a legacy like that? I would. In some ways, we can do that with our writing. When we are able to capture the things that really matter and communicate them in a way that those who read will feel we truly care and have some inkling of understanding about the world in which they live, we will be able to create footprints on their hearts.

There is a risk involved in it. Some will find that we are exhibitionists, if we dare to show our emotions too much. Others will be uncomfortable with us revealing the doubts and fears that mark our vulnerability. Yet, there will be those who will feel comforted and encouraged to know that they are not alone in facing situations that are beyond anything they ever imagined, leaving them with no choice but to walk through these tough places. For them we must write honestly yet respectfully so our words can gently mark out those footprints on their hearts that sustain them long after we are gone.

eleanorshepherd@sympatico.ca

http://emshepherd.blogspot.com

More Questions than Answers

http://wipfandstock.com/store/More_Questions_than_Answers_Sharing_Faith_by_Listening

First in Black - Black

February was Canada’s Black History Month and since this is March 1st, I reckon we’re close enough to include the following piece. It was the second of two articles I wrote in its commemoration, consecutively published in The Watford Guide-Advocate.

His parents immigrated to Canada from the West Indies. He was born in Toronto in 1922, where his father worked as a porter and his mother as a maid. This man has experienced many ‘firsts’ during his 89 years, and his influence for good has benefited many Canadian lives. This first-generation Canadian’s prodigious gamut of roles and accomplishments will go down in our provincial and national histories.

When Lincoln M. Alexander was elected Member of Parliament for Hamilton West in 1968, he was Canada’s first Black MP. Likewise, when appointed Lieutenant Governor of Ontario in 1985, he was the first black person to be appointed lieutenant governor of a province, since Confederation.

His love for Canada saw him serve in the Royal Canadian Air Force during WWII, after which he resumed his education. Lincoln’s appreciation for education and his strong work ethic were instilled by his parents, who impressed on him the value of education. He studied hard and well, graduating (1949) with a B.A. in Political Economics, and later (1953), from Osgoode Hall Law School with a law degree. He practised law for some years, becoming Queen’s Council in 1965.

In politics, Lincoln Alexander won four elections, but had no thirst for power. He sought to use whatever influence he had toward improving life for all Canadians, and was active in Ontario’s multicultural movement. He served as Minister of Labour in Joe Clark’s short-lived government, and was the first Black to become Chairman of the Ontario Workers Compensation Board (1980).

Following his term as Lieutenant Governor in 1991, Alexander was the first to serve five terms as Chancellor of The University of Guelph! The university named a special awards program in his honour – particularly in view of his championing the causes of youth and education. Such is the scope of Alexander’s inspiration that three schools were named after him.

Whenever I travel in the Hamilton area and see signs for the Lincoln Alexander Parkway I’m again reminded of the high regard in which this man is held.

Black History Month closes in a few days, but may we continue to appreciate the positive contributions Black Canadians have made – and continue to make – for good in our country. Lincoln M. Alexander is an example of one whose passion and integrity continue to inspire others. I understand that he made no big public deal of his religious background as a Baptist Christian, but rather sought to live out his faith.

An interesting factoid about the Honourable Alexander is that he has never possessed a driver’s licence. Amazing! How could he have ever succeeded without one, eh?

Last week and today’s sketches of African North Americans remind us of the value of every life, and of how a life lived well can help others live better. Those persons pursued a high and enduring vision. I thank God for friends and acquaintances of differing ethnicities and skin tone to mine, whose example, influence, and friendship have enhanced my life and stirred my faith. My gaze is raised.

Colour, per se, is only skin deep. The Scriptures say (Romans 10:12-13 NIV): For there is no difference between Jew and Gentile – the same Lord is Lord of all and richly blesses all who call on him, for, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”

Not colour; just people who know they need the Lord. That includes me!

~~+~~
© Peter A. Black - in P-Pep! ; The Watford Guide-Advocate – February 24, 2011.
(Information gleaned from various publically available sources.)
Peter writes a weekly column in The Guide.
He is the author of "Parables from the Pond"; (Word Alive Press ISBN 1897373-21-X)

~~+~~

Old Parr: From Cottage to Palace - Lawrence

A number of years ago my aunt gave me a package of photocopies relating to my grandfather, Edwin Davies. At that time, I had no interest in my ancestors and I filed the documents away. Twenty years later, heavily into my genealogy, I regretted the lost opportunity to have my many questions answered.

The drawing of Old Parr’s Cottage in Shropshire, England, where my grandfather was born, began to hold great fascination for me as I searched for my ancestors’ lost lives. Who was Old Parr? Had he really lived to 152 ½ years? Which of Edwin Davies’ sons had written the caption at the bottom of the drawing? What was cousin Bert’s last name?

I set out to do some research on the Internet but the words “Old Parr” in the search engines brought no results. I e-mailed the genealogical society for the area and by coincidence they had just received information on a Thomas Parr from Shropshire who had lived to a great age. The surprise to me was that his life was five centuries ago—I had assumed that Old Parr was living at the time of my grandfather’s birth.

Having gone this far on my search for Old Parr I couldn’t let it go. I now knew that his first name was Thomas and that he was indeed buried in Westminster Abbey. I went to their web-site. His burial there, I found, was by order of King Charles 1st, and the inscription on the white marble gravestone gave his birth as AD 1483, his burial as November 15, 1635, and his age as 152 years. The gravestone also told us that he lived through the reigns of ten monarchs: Edward 4th, Edward 5th, Richard 3rd, Henry 7th, Henry 8th, Edward 6th, Mary, Elizabeth, James, and Charles.

What would make Thomas Parr uproot himself and go to London at his great age? A change from his simple Shropshire life would surely be hard on him. It is recorded that he did not smoke and that his diet consisted of green cheese, onions, coarse bread, buttermilk, and mild ale. He gave his recipe for long life as, “Keep your head cool by temperance and your feet warm by exercise. Rise early, go soon to bed, and if you want to grow fat [prosperous] keep your eyes open and your mouth shut.” (Quoted from John Taylor’s pamphlet of 1635, The Old, Old, Very Old Man.)

He did not leave his home of his own volition. The Earl of Arundel, Thomas Howard, while visiting one of his Shropshire estates in 1635 heard about the great age of this man and decided to take him to London to see King Charles. Thomas Parr, I suppose, had no say in the matter. The journey was made in easy stages and the Earl provided a jester for Old Parr’s entertainment along the way. But the venture would have brought him little joy given his old age and his blindness of some 20 years.

When they at last came to Court, King Charles asked him what he had done differently from other men in his long life. Old Parr answered that he had done penance when he was 100 years old. Parr’s penance entailed standing draped in a white sheet in the parish church, according to Taylor’s pamphlet, and was a result of his unfaithfulness to his wife and the fathering of an illegitimate child by Katherine Milton. His first marriage, from which he had two children both of whom died in infancy, was when he was aged 80. Ten years after his wife’s death he married again, but there were no children by this second marriage.

The alteration from his country lifestyle and plain diet caused Parr’s demise according to a post mortem carried out by Dr. William Harvey, who cited a diet change, rich wines and London’s pollution as the cause of death. Though he might just have succumbed to old age! After all, he was 152 years of age!

The point of interest for me, of course, is my grandfather’s connection to Old Parr. Why was he born in Thomas Parr’s cottage some 225 years after his death? Was it just coincidence that my great-grandmother went into labour while she was visiting there? Was she a descendant through Parr’s illegitimate child and calling on a relative? Was there some superstition that anyone born in this cottage would live to as great an age as Thomas Parr?

Apart from the fact that the caption under the drawing tells me that Edwin Davies was born in Old Parr’s cottage in 1859, I have found nothing to suggest that there is any relationship between Parr and my ancestors. By continued research, I hope to get answers to the mysterious connection of my family to Old Parr.
Meanwhile, Thomas Parr is certainly worthy of note and provides us with an interesting tale.

Two Worlds - Mann

Have you ever had an experience that changed your direction in life, or perhaps dismissed a judgemental attitude or even created an abundance of grace? I had such an experience while serving on my church National Evangelical Team a number of years ago when I had opportunity to travel to Washington. It was here that I had the blessing of interacting with people who came regularly to the mission.

It was an experience of two worlds in many ways. While walking up the street with the drug mind-altered poor, through littered alleys and muddy weed-ridden areas with graffiti walls, one could look further down the same street and easily see the manicured lawns and the pillared columns of the rich.

I sat on a weathered-beaten windowsill late one night after worshipping with the street community, anticipating fellowship. The leader asked a woman who had been off the street one week to assist with communion and as she bend down to serve me, a small cup tipped and the red fluid spilled across her hand and mine. I wrote the following poem out of that experience:

Coming into the Light
“God, you come to me
through the dark, sad eyes of my black brother and sister,
through the homeless,
the hungry,
the rejected.

God, you touch me
through the alcoholic
the prostitute
the storekeeper,
the prisoner

God you watch me and make me feel no guilt for my wholeness, yet
you call me to share out of it.
you ask me to use my strength to take down fences and borders that limit
you show me unconditional love that reveals itself in compassion acts

God, you confront me to seek out those who have not discovered their need for you.
You challenge me to speak with others who have not found a voice to honour you and themselves
You convict me to share with others all that has been graciously shared with me.
You teach me to free those in exile and you offer the way to do this.

Your people have proven there is hope:
- to wait for a promise
- to listen for a word
- to receive a touch

Your Spirit is here in your fullness, giving birth to wholeness.”

I departed physically from that place, and yet, I will never totally leave it, for regardless of where I go, I will return in memory to touch the joy, the family, the wholeness, that was shared with me in brokenness.

Louis Riel and Nicholas Flood Davin -HIRD

By Rev Ed Hird

Davin and Riel were perhaps our most famous Western Canadian pioneers. Louis Riel called for the creation of a new Canadian province. Nicholas Flood Davin called for the hanging of Louis Riel. “Riel is not a hero,”[1] said Davin. “…If Riel is not hanged, then capital punishment should be abolished.”[2] Both died tragically, Riel on the end of a noose, Davin by his own hands.

Born in Kilfinane, Ireland, Davin served as a journalist in the Franco-Prussian war, seeing bodies piled six-deep.[3] Reporters in those days were often arrested as spies, being required by the governments to print false information in order to throw off the enemy. This is one of the reasons why reporters in England were not given bylines, so as to protect the freedom of the press.[4] Davin then became the editor of the new Belfast Times, but was dismissed after being so drunk that he reused his previous article from the Sheffield Times. Davin was so offended that he sued them for wrongful dismissal, demanding 5,000 pounds and being awarded only 50 pounds by the courts.[5]

Being a keen observer of social interactions, Davin surprisingly commented that ‘the pulpit occupied almost the whole ground occupied by the newspaper today…The Editor has superseded the preacher.”[6] After being commissioned by Prime Minister John A MacDonald to study the American residential schools, Davin the future federal MP wrote the infamous confidential Davin Report which resulted in our First Nations being subjected to the Residential School tragedy.[7] The indigenous people already went to day-schools run by various churches, but Davin was not satisfied, racistly saying “The child, again, who goes to a day school learns little, and what little he learns is soon forgotten, while his tastes are fashioned at home, and his inherited aversion to toil is in no way combated.”[8] Sadly both the Canadian government and the Canadian churches uncritically accepted the Davin Report claim that “it was found that the day-school did not work, because the influence of the wigwam was stronger than the influence of the school. (p. 1)”

By hastily imitating the apparent success of the American native residential schools, great and lasting harm was done. The Davin Report patronizingly said: “The experience of the United States is the same as our own as far as the adult Indian is concerned. Little can be done with him. He can be taught to do a little at farming, and at stock-raising, and to dress in a more civilized manner, but that is all.”[9] The Davin Report is ground zero to the deep wound that we inflicted on the First Nations. With Prime Minister Harper’s apology two years ago, our First Nations have only begun to recover from decades of residential school-inflicted trauma.[10] The impressive new ‘People of the Inlet’ film by the local Tsleil Waututh First Nation shows what great courage people like the late Chief Dan George showed in rebuilding his devastated people.

After serving as a reporter in Toronto, Davin became editor in 1883 of the brand-new Regina Leader newspaper.[11] My great-grandmother Mary McLean, after taking journalism at a women’s college in Kirkland Ontario, served as one of Davin’s reporters covering the Louis Riel crisis. My late Uncle Don Allen, who was passionate about history, often told us about this period, noting how sympathetic his grandmother was to Riel’s plight. Davin carried on the British tradition of not listing as a byline the names of the reporters who wrote for the Regina Leader. This was helpful for my great-grandmother Mary in protecting her from arrest by the RCMP when she snuck in disguised as a Roman Catholic priest confessor to obtain an interview with Louis Riel. Mary McLean quotes Davin “the officer in command of the LEADER (saying) ‘An interview must be had with Riel if you have to outwit the whole police force of the North-West’.”[12] Because Davin protected her anonymity, some writers like CB Koester and his fellow playwright Ken Mitchell have popularized the myth that Davin himself disguised himself as that priest.[13] While waiting for my throat operation in May 1982, I spent a week with my late Uncle Don Allen who carefully explained to me about his grandmother’s interview with Louis Riel. “When I first saw you on the trial, I loved you” was said by Riel to Mary McLean, not to the man Davin who was calling for his hanging.[14]

The November 19th 1885 edition of the Regina Leader could not be clearer that Davin himself was not the reporter who was disguised as a Roman Catholic priest. Instead Davin is described several times by the reporter as the proprietor and the editor in chief, both terms prominently displayed by Davin’s name in editions of the Regina Leader.[15] Mary McLean also writes in the article about another female reporter (code-named Saphronica) who earlier failed to get entrance, most likely referring to Kate Simpson-Hayes, Davin’s mistress.[16]

This confusing of Mary McLean’s Riel interview with Davin forced CB Koester to ‘contort himself into knots’ suggesting that for Davin, there was two Riels, one the rebel who Davin wanted to hang, and another Riel to whom Davin was compassionate.[17] Such verbal gymnastics were entirely unnecessary if one simply acknowledge that it was the female reporter, not the male editor-in-chief/proprietor, who did Riel’s final interview.

After having two children with Davin, his mistress Kate Simpson-Hayes gave the children away and became a reporter in Winnipeg.[18] When Davin then married Eliza Reid, he brought his six-year-old son Henry to live with him as a ‘nephew’, but was unable to locate his daughter.[19] In Davin and Kate’s final argument over the daughter, Kate said to him: “You go your way. I’ll go mine”, symbolically pointing to the Winnipeg Free Press building.[20] Davin was so crushed that he bought a gun and shot himself on Oct 18th 1901 at the Winnipeg Clarendon Hotel.[21]

The tragic ending to the lives of both Riel and Davin reminds us that our Canadian history has much pain and trauma which can only be resolved through reconciliation and forgiveness. May the Prince of Peace bring deep restoration to the painful wounds left by Canada’s residential school tragedy.

Reverend Ed Hird, Rector
St. Simon’s Church North Vancouver
Anglican Coalition in Canada
http://www.stsimonschurch.ca/
-an article published in the March 2011 Deep Cove Crier

[1] CB Koester, Mr Davin, M.P.: a Biography of Nicholas Flood Davin, Western Producer Prairie Books, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, 1980, p. 64
[2] Koester, p. 65, quoting the Daily Regina Leader, “Riel Agitation”, August 15th 1885
[3] Koester, p. 2, p.13
[4] Koester, p.11 “Neither of these appointments (by Davin to the Irish Times and the London Standard) can be substantiated by external evidence…it was the accepted practice for the newspapers to preserve their correspondents in dignified anonymity.”
[5] Koester, p. 16, Davin sued them for wrongful dismissal and settled for six weeks salary…He vented his anger in a letter to the News-Letter editor. Clarke, Davin’s former boss, brought a libel suit against Henderson of the News-Letter for 5000 pounds, given 50 pounds by court. Davin left unemployed at almost age 33, with his pride severely wounded.
[6] Koester, p. 31 Davin comments “No one can read the sermons of Chrysostom or Hugh Latimer, or follow the life and times of John Knox, without seeing that each of these divines was the journalist of his day. The pulpit occupied, in addition to its legitmate sphere, almost the whole ground occupied by the newspaper today…All business of life was the preacher’s domain.”
[7] http://www.canadianshakespeares.ca/a_grit.cfm “Davin also authored the invidious (and confidential) Davin Report of 1879, a study of the way in which Americans socialized young Natives in residential schools ( see http://www.turtleisland.org/resources/resources001.htm and http://www.irsr-rqpi.gc.ca/english/) . The study paved the way for Canada’s scandalously racist policies towards Native youth and their mistreatment in the Canadian Residential School system, which effectively destroyed familial relations by virtually kidnapping children to be socialized into so-called civil society, a policy that led to generations of cultural damage to First Nations peoples throughout Canada.” To read first-hand the tragic Davin Report, click on The Davin Report .
[8] http://www.canadianshakespeares.ca/a_grit.cfm “The report, archived in its entirety in the CASP Essays and Documents section, takes note of the American policy of “aggressive civilization” towards its indigenous populations, a policy implemented by the hypocritically named “Peace Commission” (after a law passed by Congress in 1869), which sought to abolish “tribal relation[s]” and to do away with communal lands while consolidating Native populations “on few reservations.”
[9] In rushing into starting native residential schools, Davin disregarded advice not only from the local Catholic hierarchy, but also from the Anglican Bishops and Metis elders. They also said ‘no’. Davin’s exploration in the USA of the allegedly successful American Carlisle School with Carl Shurz and Pratt lasted less than 72 hours before he went back by train to Winnipeg. http://www.turtleisland.org/resources/resources001.htm
[10] 39th PARLIAMENT, 2nd SESSION, EDITED HANSARD • NUMBER 110, CONTENTS, Wednesday, June 11, 2008 http://bit.ly/hK0C4T ; http://www.ainc-inac.gc.ca/ai/rqpi/apo/pmsh-eng.asp (video of apology)
[11] Koester, p. 55; p. 58 “On September 24th 1885, he was appointed a Justice of the Peace, and on January 11th 1886, he became an advocate of the North-West Territories.”
[12] Mary MacFadyen McLean, Louis Riel’s Parting Messages to Humanity, “INTERVIEW WITH RIEL” Regina Leader Newspaper, Saskatchewan, Nov 19th 1885 ), http://bit.ly/eitTWy ; Rev. Ed Hird, Battle for the Soul of Canada, 2006, p. 106; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Regina_Leader-Post
“(…)The Leader merged with another paper, the Regina Evening Post, and continued to publish daily editions of both before consolidating them under the title The Leader-Post. Other newspapers absorbed in due course by the L-P include the Regina Daily Star and The Province.” (note from Ed: Mary appeared to have also worked for the Regina Star before it was absorbed by the Regina Leader-Post); The interview published in the Nov 19th 1885 Regina Leader took place some time during the week preceding Riel’s execution on Monday, Nov 16th 1885. In ‘Execution of Riel’, Saskatchewan Herald (Battleford), Nov 23rd 1885, it is reported that the Nov 19th Regina Leader interview was held two days before the execution. (This corresponds with Louis Riel’s death on Nov 14th 1885)
[13] Koester, p. 65, p. 215; Davin the Politician, a play by Ken Mitchell, NeWest Press, Edmonton,1979, p. 7 “After smuggling himself into the condemned man’s cell dressed as a priest – a most enterprising journalistic exercise – Davin wrote of Riel as a man of ‘genius manque’ who, had he been gifted with a finer sense of judgement, might have done much for his people and for the West. On the other hand, Davin had no sympathy whatsoever with those who advocated the commutation of Riel’s sentence…” (note: CB Koester wrote this foreword to the play); Mitchell, p. 37 (excerpt from the play) “Davin puts on a dark black coat and a cross. He holds up a Bible to Saunders. Davin: Je suis Pere Andrew. L’ancien confesseur. Oui? “If I do return, we will have the interview of the century.”; Mitchell, p. 38-39 (another excerpt from the play): “Davin appears in the robe and hat, but with the addition of a false beard and a large silver crucifix…Riel: (clasping his hand): Your name is Davin!”; Mitchell, p. 42 (excerpt from the play: the final imaginary conversation as if Davin the proprietor/editor-in-chief had been the disguised ‘priest’) ”Kate (to Davin): ‘The whole town can talk of nothing but your interview. The Mounties are probably on their way to arrest you.’ Davin: Let ‘em come!”
[14] Regina Leader, Nov 19th 1885, http://bit.ly/eitTWy
[15] Regina Leader, Nov 19th 1885, http://bit.ly/eitTWy ; In the March 31st 1885 Regina Leader Newspaper, the heading is ‘The Leader, then below it NICHOLAS FLOOD DAVIN, Editor-in-Chief’. http://bit.ly/eUhMU3 In the heading of the Thursday August 6th 1885 Leader newspaper (and every other date of which I have a zeroxed copy), it says “Nicholas Flood Davin, Proprietor and Editor”. http://bit.ly/gZvuBp The evidence is clear that Nicholas Flood Davin, being the proprietor, editor, and Editor-in-Chief, could not be the very reporter whom he commissioned to get the interview.
[16] Regina Leader, Nov 19th 1885, http://bit.ly/eitTWy ; As to why Kate Simpson-Hayes (a.k.a Mary Markwell) was code-named as Saphronica, it is quite likely a reflection of both Kate and Davin’s common involvement in plays like those by Shakespeare.
[17] Koester, p. 66 “Yet for Davin there were two Riels: the one, the rebel, the cause of death and anguish to white and Metis alike, he had condemned in the strongest language; for the other, the strange man who was the victim of his own undisciplined imagination, he felt compassion.” (quoting the Nov 18th interview as if it was done by Davin).
[18] Koester, p.122 “Davin was now in his fifties, and Kate was some fifteen years younger….Consequently the daughter (born Jan 11th 1892) was placed with a private nurse and when this proved unsatisfactory, given over to the care of nuns in a Roman Catholic orphanage at Saint Boniface, Manitoba.
[19] Koester, p. 129 “On July 25th 1895, he married Eliza Jane Reid of Ottawa…shortly after the marriage, Mr Davin’s six-year old ‘nephew’ Henry Arthur entered the Davin household. …Davin’s daughter could not be found.”
[20] Koester, p. 207
[21] Davin the Politician, a play by Ken Mitchell, NeWest Press, Edmonton, 1979, p. 11
-award-winning author of the book ‘Battle for the Soul of Canada’ (which includes five pages on Louis Riel and Mary McLean)

http://www.battleforthesoulofcanada.blogspot.com/
p.s. In order to obtain a copy of the book ‘Battle for the Soul of Canada’, please send a $18.50 cheque to ‘Ed Hird’, #1008-555 West 28th Street, North Vancouver, BC V7N 2J7. For mailing the book to the USA, please send $20.00 USD. This can also be done by PAYPAL using the e-mail ed_hird@telus.net . Be sure to list your mailing address. The Battle for the Soul of Canada e-book can be obtained for $9.99CDN/USD.
-Click to download a complimentary PDF copy of the Battle for the Soul study guide : Seeking God’s Solution for a Spirit-Filled Canada
You can also download the complimentary Leader’s Guide PDF: Battle for the Soul Leaders Guide

Sweet Words - Belec

Miss J

   Babies and children warm my heart. God sure knew what He was doing when he created these lovable little sugar lumps. Of course [slightly biased here] my own little granddaughter, Miss J, is a glowing example of lovability.

Thankfully, my daughter works for me so I get the privilege of seeing 2 year old Miss J often.

Sometimes Miss J says the darndest things. Like today...

'Amanda Mommy' and I were rushing around getting some office work done and Jocelyn was trying to help.

"Where's your fat machine?" asked Miss J.

Amanda and I screeched to a halt. Fat machine? What did my darling little granddaughter mean? Had she spotted my expanding girth? Had she seen my vain attempts at sit-ups on my slightly deflated exercise ball? Did she over hear me the other day when I asked Papere to bring up my stepper from the basement?

"No rush," I had said at the time.

After Miss J's comment, I  thought perhaps I should put a rush on and get my 'fat machine' out of the basement, pronto.

The sweet little bairn did not give up either. Mommy and I, in between fits of laughter, tried to figure out what she was referring to; then the lights came on. Fax machine...not Fat machine! Miss J pointed to the multipurpose printer/copier/scanner & Fax on my desk. I breathed a great sigh of relief; and then Mommy and I guffawed once more!

No sooner had I recovered from the trauma of darling Miss J's fat/fax machine fiasco, then the little scrumptious munchkin wanted to tickle. So we did.

"Are you made of playdough?" was the next probing question to proffer forth from her cherub lips, as she tickled me all over. Thank goodness I was already on the floor. Momma bear stopped messing with the fax machine and joined us on the floor. We laughed for ten minutes. Jocelyn, oblivious to what we were laughing at, thought that this lovely game of tickle was just what she ordered.

 God is amazing. He has blessed us with children because he loves us. What joy fills my heart when I am in the presence of a child. I learn so much. I especially learn how to laugh. Jesus loves the little children, and so do I! So do I!

Now I am off to the basement...

Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."  Matthew 19:14

Every Novelist Starts Somewhere - den Boer

While thinking about what to post, I had a brilliant idea—entertaining, great marketing strategy—totally brilliant.

I would post a scene from my first novel. This would endear me to future readers and create a worldwide desire for my novel before its completion.

With bated breath, I read what I had written—the first tenth of the first draft of my novel-to-be. My brilliant idea dimmed to zero watts. But, hope persists.

Buried beneath mundane dialogue, poor word choice, awkward sentence structure and shallow characters, I detect a hint of genius.

I have a question for the novel writers out there. (I’m sure some of you are reading this if only to postpone tackling your manuscript.) How many drafts do you do before your novel is presentable? A ball-park figure will do.

Marian den Boer is the author of Blooming and a novelist wannabe.

FINISH WELL -- Gibson

In the early 1940’s, three young preaching dynamos lined up at the starting block of evangelistic preaching. The trends for those times ran in the direction of large campaigns, which attracted thousands for as long as a week at a time.

Critics called Chuck Templeton, the “Babe Ruth” of evangelism. One seminary president marked him for greatness, calling him brilliant, dynamic, and “the most talented preacher in North America.” A 1946 article published by the National (US) Association for Evangelicals featured his ministry as one of five most successful in the past five years.

Others believed Bron Clifford to be the most powerful preacher in many centuries. Once, when addressing students at Baylor University, the president had the school’s bells turned off so nothing would distract listeners from Clifford’s two-hour lecture.

In his book “Lead On,” author John Hagee notes that by age twenty-five, Clifford had “touched more lives, influenced more leaders, and set more attendance records” than any other preacher in history. Tall and attractive, Hollywood unsuccessfully tried to woo him into a starring role in the movie “the Robe.” National leaders, too, courted him.

Like the others, the third young preacher attracted large, spiritually hungry crowds. But Billy Graham also spent much time in the quieter pursuit of establishing boundaries for both life and ministry. Because they worked jointly in the organization Youth For Christ, Graham and Templeton became good friends, but of the three, Graham was considered the least.

Templeton proved a disappointment to his lauders. By 1950 he’d abandoned preaching for a career in broadcasting and commentating. He eventually lost his faith entirely and became a prominent atheist.

A few years following his sudden rise to the top as the evangelical sweetheart preacher, Bron Clifford left his wife and two Down’s Syndrome children to work as a car salesman. An article by Mike Fehlauer in Ministry Today reveals that shortly after, Clifford died in a drunken stupor in a “sleazy motel room in Amarillo, Texas.”

At age ninety-two, Billy Graham is the best loved and most widely known evangelist in history. In 2008, his lifetime audience for his radio and television broadcasts topped 2.2 billion. He has preached live to more than 215 million people in over 185 countries and territories. His children say of their ailing father, who only recently stopped making public appearances, that he has one more sermon left to preach. He has counseled and befriended almost every US president serving during his adulthood. Though not without critics or self-confessed faults, Graham is finishing the way he began—well.

At the end of each life, career or year, what matters most to God and for eternity is not what we’ve been or done—it’s what we’re being and doing right now. And as Christ-followers, when it comes to influencing people around us—nothing else matters either.

No matter our beginnings, we all can finish well. How are you doing?

***

Watch a young Billy Graham here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njqj_e7ZomY&feature=player_embedded

Kathleen Gibson

columnist, author, broadcaster

http://www.kathleengibson.ca/

Anniversary - Martin

On Family Day of 2010 (Ontario’s February statutory holiday), I embarked on a new project: Kingdom Poets. On that Monday — and every Monday since — I have posted on my blog a weekly feature celebrating the poetry of some of the best poets to write within the Christian tradition. My first post was about 17th century metaphysical poet, George Herbert — and on this Family Day I will post about his predecessor, John Donne. You’ll also find entries on such famous poets from the past as John Milton and Francis Thompson.

Featured contemporary poets include: Wendell Berry, Luci Shaw, Robert Siegel and John Terpstra. I’ve receive wonderful feedback from many of the poets themselves — including a surprise e-mail from Pulitzer Prize winning poet Franz Wright, thanking me for my entry. Many poetry lovers have become followers of Kingdom Poets, and several college and university professors have encouraged their students to regularly visit my blog.

St. Lucian poet John Robert Lee is a recent discoverer of Kingdom Poets, and is active encouraging Caribbean Christians to visit as well. Here’s a link to his blog: Manhanaim Notes.

Now it’s your turn. If you’re not yet a follower visit: Kingdom Poets. Add your name. Check back weekly, or whenever the impulse hits. I know you’ll discover some exciting poets who are new to you, as well as get the chance to review many favourites.

Entry written by D.S. Martin. He is the award-winning author of the poetry collections Poiema (Wipf & Stock) and So The Moon Would Not Be Swallowed (Rubicon Press). They are both available at: www.dsmartin.ca

A Pro at Procrastination - Arends

I thought the writers amongst us might relate to the following from P.J. O'Rourke ... enjoy!

"Usually, writers will do anything to avoid writing. For instance, the previous sentence was written at one o’clock this afternoon. It is now a quarter to four. I have spent the past two hours and forty-five minutes sorting my neckties by width, looking up the word “paisly” in three dictionaries, attempting to find the town of that name on The New York Times Atlas of the World map of Scotland, sorting my reference books by width, trying to get the bookcase to stop wobbling by stuffing a matchbook cover under its corner, dialing the telephone number on the matchbook cover to see if I should take computer courses at night, looking at the computer ads in the newspaper and deciding to buy a computer because writing seems to be so difficult on my old Remington, reading an interesting article on sorghum farming in Uruguay that was in the newspaper next to the computer ads, cutting that and other interesting articles out of the newspaper, sorting—by width—all the interesting articles I’ve cut out of newspapers recently, fastening them neatly together with paper clips and making a very attractive paper clip necklace and bracelet set, which I will present to my girlfriend as soon as she comes home from the three-hour low-impact aerobic workout that I made her go to so I could have some time alone to write.”

— P. J. O’Rourke

The Wit and Wisdom of P.J. O'Rourke

Happy writing!
Carolyn Arends


www.carolynarends.com
www.feedthelake.com

How to love everybody - Nesdoly

 "Love...does not seek its own..." 1 Corinthians 13:5.

Adrian Plass tells this story of an epiphany he had when he was ten:

"As I sat on the front seat of the big green Maidstone and District bus, a sixpenny bit and a penny clutched in my hand ready for the conductor, a phrase I had read earlier repeated itself over and over in my mind.


'Everybody is I.'


For some reason, I sensed an important inner core of meaning in the words, but I was unable to dig it out. I was frustrated and fascinated by the problem....


[...] Suddenly I stiffened. Body erect, hands flat on the ledge below the window, I pressed my forehead against the glass and stared in amazement at the crowds on the pavement below. The true meaning of those three simple but puzzling words had exploded into my mind, destroying the illusion that I was the centre of the universe, and leaving me to cope, for the rest of my life, with the burden of knowledge. Every one of those people down there in the street, walking the pavements, driving cars, waiting for buses — every single one, whatever they were, whatever they looked like, whatever I thought of them, were as important to themselves as I was to myself!


I shook my head, trying to clear it of this incredible notion. Everybody is I...That funny, bent old lady with the mouth drooping on one side — she mattered, she was vital — central. The bus conductor who had interrupted my mental churning earlier; he wasn't just a bit player in my world. He was the star in his own. He had a head full of thoughts and feelings; a life inside him; he was the reason that the earth went on turning. My own father and mother, my brothers, aunts, uncles, all my friends — all were 'I' Everybody was I, and at that moment I was somehow aware that I would probably never learn a more important lesson." Adrian Plass, From Growing Up Pains to the Sacred Diary, p. 20,21.

In our quest to learn about love, to learn how to love, the realization that "Everybody is I" is a good place to start. As we, in our imaginations, put ourselves into another's shoes, it becomes much easier to suffer long, be kind, humble, polite, patient, etc.

It is the other-centered love we see emanating from Jesus when He speaks to the Samaritan woman, cuddles and blesses babies, parties with tax collectors, names for the Rich Young Ruler the one thing that keeps him from being a follower, and in so many other incidents does the thing that communicates God's love.

The miracle of Christ in us is that through His indwelling Spirit, He can transmit through us to those around us the love Jesus showed to those around Him when He lived on earth.

A version of this article was first published on Other Food: daily devos, February 14, 2011.

**************************

Website: www.violetnesdoly.com

• Personal blog promptings  
• Writerly blog Line upon line 
  
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• Daily devotions for adults: Other Food: daily devos
• A poem portfolio

The Ultimate Love Question - Laycock

There is a very old technique that has been used by teachers for centuries. Jesus used it skillfully and often. When he wanted to teach his disciples something, he asked them questions. The dialogue that usually resulted not only revealed the answers, but caused them to think. He asked questions that made them examine themselves, their motives and their true beliefs.

We can imagine Jesus asking those questions as they walked along the dusty roads of Palestine, along the shores of the Dead Sea, or up the sides of the hills around Jerusalem. The questions often seemed innocuous at first and easily answered. Questions like the one he asked His disciples on the road to Caesarea Philippi: “Who do the people say the Son of Man is?” (Matthew 16:13-15) The disciples were quick to answer. They’d been in the market places, in the synagogues. They knew what the people were saying and seemed eager to tell Jesus that he was well thought of.

The people were comparing Jesus to some of their greatest heroes, some even believed those heroes had returned in His form. “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” We can imagine Jesus stopping then and turning to face the men who followed him. “But what about you?” He asked. “Who do you say I am?”

It was Simon who answered first, proclaiming his belief – “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (v.16). Jesus responds by proclaiming Simon’s true identity. He calls him first by his biological name – he is Simon, the son of Jonah. Then he gives him a new name, a new identity – Peter, the rock, the one who will build the church, the one whose authority will reach into heaven itself.

It isn’t much later when that same Peter is asked another question, three times. “Hey, aren’t you a disciple of that Jesus?” Peter had a quick answer then too, but it wasn’t the right one. His denial of His Lord seemed to fly in the face of the new identity Jesus had given him. But that wasn’t the end of the story. There were more questions to come.

After the crucifixion, after the resurrection, Jesus came and ate with Peter and a few other fishermen. Perhaps Peter had gone back to fishing, doubting that all those other dreams would ever come true. But Jesus broke bread with him again, and asked him another question, three times. “Simon, do you truly love me?”

I wonder how quick Peter was to answer? I wonder what he felt when he realized it was three for three? No doubt that question rang in his ears for the rest of his life, right up until he too was crucified.

It’s a question that should ring in our ears too, a question that should make us stop, examine our motives and our hearts. It’s the ultimate love question.

Do we truly love Him?

**********

This post excerpted from Focused Reflections, Marcia's devotional book for special occasions.
Visit her website to learn more about her writing and speaking ministry - http://www.vinemarc.com/

From The Miniscule to the Majestic - Derksen

A question that often travels across the frontal lobe of my brain, or whatever place the brain handles questions, is why would God create such a vast universe, if all He wanted was one inhabited planet? Secular scientists try to present a case for other life forms living on other planets, but, being a strong proponent of Biblical truth, I see no evidence in the Bible for another civilization.

So…why did God create a universe that it takes millions of years to travel through? During a recent trip to the Creation Museum in Cincinnati, my husband and I visited their planetarium. We learned that not only are we only one galaxy among billions out there, but the bowl of the big dipper is made up of billions of galaxies all by itself. The concept is so vast that our finite minds find it hard to conceive and yet, scientists have proven this to be so.

We can comprehend the idea that God created us, our moon and stars, and all that lives on our planet. That’s easy to understand when we look at an intricately designed snowflake sitting on a tree branch in the dead of winter. We see that no two snowflakes are alike. Only our awesome Creator could have done that. When we think of the human body, an organism that scientists for years have tried to create, we discover that the best they can do is copy because God has devised this wonderful shell we live in.

Our human mind tries to understand how great our God is BUT until we look closely at or hear someone who knows describe, the extent of our universe; we never fully comprehend how Majestic our God is. He created it all. He is bigger than His Creation. Think about that for a second or two.  God could probably place this planet in the palm of His hand… maybe even the entire Universe.

Yet He loves us individually. The Bible says He cares for the Sparrow and He knows the number of hairs on each of our heads. In all the vastness of the Universe, only our planet could sustain our lives. God designed it just for our needs, even our need to satisfy our thirst for beauty.  In our human-ness we try, with our little finite brains to understand how awesome He i s. It takes our looking at a never ending plethora of stars and planets to even begin to know how powerful our God is. God says to us, “This is done by my hand and I am bigger than all of it.”

Still, we insist on making Him into our image. We pull Him out of our pocket once in a while, when we need a favor, want a wedding blessed, or a birth dedicated. We make decisions without Him and wonder why we fail. We tell Him that we know better than He how to run our lives. Imagine that…the ultimate audacity.

Barbara Ann Derksen, with 10 books currently published, writes devotionals (latest one at www.wordsfromtheeaglesnest.blogspot.com), murder mysteries, and children's stories. Her latest mystery, the third in a series, Fear Not, will be released this spring.

Prayer - Reynolds

He was over ninety years old, at one time a famous Canadian athlete, now living in a nursing home. Once, visiting him, I asked him if he prayed. “I talk to God a lot,” he said, “but God never talks back.”

I’ve been thinking about that quite a bit lately.

Words are important to faith, to understanding our own faith, or explaining our faith to someone else. We talk a lot about “the Word of God.” We need to remember that when we speak of the Bible as “the Word of God,” it is “Word” (I use a capital “W”), not words. The Bible is not “the words of God.” There is a significant difference.

But what words does God use when talking to us? Paradoxically, I am not sure that God uses words.

I can’t claim that God talks to me with words. It seems to me that our conversation is subtle. Sometimes I am left wondering what God is saying to me. Often it is only later that I understand. For instance, my “call to the ministry”. I expected chimes in the night, or a voice speaking to me as to Samuel, “Samuel! Samuel!” (1 Samuel 3). It never happened. Finally I said, in effect, “Lord, I don’t know what you want me to do, but I am going to give it a try and see what happens.” Looking back, I feel confident that God was in fact “speaking to me.” In any case, I’ve never regretted that decision – at least not for more than a day or two at a time.

Of course, we will still speak to God with words, ask God for our needs and wants. Most human religion, it seems to me, consists of trying to get what we want from God or the gods, whether through prayer or sacrifice, even human sacrifice. To seek help from God is natural and inevitable, tugging at God’s coattails or apron strings, crying “Please!” But it seems to me that the best of prayer is just the sense of God’s presence. I picked up, years ago, the following illustration:

A woman was visiting a friend. As they sat and talked, one of the friend’s children came in, a dark-haired little boy about eleven years old. He wanted some candy. His mother said, “No, you’ve already had enough candy for today.”
Then came a rather studious girl about twelve years old. She had a problem with her homework. The mother didn’t give her the answer but showed her where she was going wrong.
Next came a little male tornado of nine years, crying with a scraped knee. The mother washed it and kissed it, and miraculously it was made well.
Finally came a quiet little girl about five years old, tugging at her mother’s skirt. By this time, the mother was getting a little impatient, so she turned to her and said, “Well, dear, what do you want?” The child replied, “I don’t want anything, Mummy, I just want to sit on your knee.”
That’s prayer at its best, just the sense of being in God’s presence. You don’t have to ask for anything. You don’t have to talk at all.
(Reynolds, Reading the Bible for the Love of God, pp. 93-94).


An old friend, a psychologist and counselor and an ex-member of the Franciscan order, gave me a book shortly before he died. It was by his good friend, Christopher Coelho, a Franciscan. And Now I Can See. I read, yesterday morning, the following:

We think of prayer as an exchange of ideas with God, where our ideas and our thinking are all-important. It never occurs to us that God doesn’t need our bright ideas. Jesus said he knows them all before we even start praying. Prayer is much simpler.

Basically it’s being with God, relaxing in him, growing in him, accepting God in all simplicity and giving ourselves to him. Words and ideas are only means toward this….

Three pews ahead of me there is a child sleeping in his mother’s arms. What exactly is happening here between mother and child? There are no ideas exchanged, no concepts analyzed, but his being there is the important thing. With every breath there is rapport growing between them, enriching both. (p. 78)

Mother Teresa was asked by an interviewer what she said to God when she prayed. She answered: “I don’t say anything. I just listen.” When the interviewer asked what she heard God say, Mother Teresa replied: “He doesn’t say anything. He just listens. And if you can’t understand that, I can’t explain it to you.”

And if you can’t understand that, I can’t explain it to you.

Of Scrambled Brains and Other Excuses - Austin

I'm trying to not let myself use the excuse of brain damage. It's a bit too convenient, however true it might be. Still I sometimes wonder if backing away from it is a form of self-deception. Whatever is going on inside this skull of mine, it's giving a neorologist an interesting challenge. His focus has been primarily to try to discover why my brain (yes, he seems to think I have one) picks up something different than my eyes actually see. Double and triple images with each eye individually has me choosing a designated driver most of the time. Now I know there are explanations for those kinds of images, often followed by headaches the next morning. I'm not a habitual drinker but I will confess that I had a sip of wine at a wedding last July. Should I have told the doctor about that?

Scrambled brains for breakfast, lunch and supper -- according to one talk -- should give me a big boost up the evolutionary ladder. When our forebears learned to crack skulls (according to the aforementioned theory) they made a huge jump in total calories and improved their survivial chances. My trouble is, I can't see the ladder clearly enough and so keep missing rungs. Besides that, I think there may be an evolutionary down-side if the brain you are feeding on happens to be your own. So if I'm evolving faster than the rest of you, I'm tempted to call it a mixed blessing.

Certain areas of memory have recently been misplaced. My glasses, that no longer perch on my nose through all my waking hours, now habitually lose themselves. They turn up in all kinds of strange places: at the computer, beside the phone, on the clothes dryer, or on the dining room table. They are even found on the piano at least once a day -- hard to explain for a guy who cannot play this instrument. Other changes also call for explanation. Great old classics I have treasured and returned to through the years, have invariably shrunk. Somebody has gone through our bookshelves with a reducing ray. There are enough people in this world desperate to lose weight that I'm sure it could have been used where it was appreciated. But I will walk through the house and pull a book off the shelf that I read just a few years ago and the type is TOO SMALL. That is a cruel trick to play on a book lover.

There are, however, certain compensations. The reducing ray has missed a few -- very few -- stories I've known and loved. A case in point is The Robe by Lloyd C. Douglas. I thought I could have told you the whole story line, but just a week ago I re-read it. Is there some lingering effect in the air from that reducing ray? The story was fresh with all the richness of a treasure newly discovered. Jane Eyre sits on that same shelf. But alas, Charlotte Bronte's incredible prose has been shrunk. Still, The Yearling has survived, and The Good Earth. John Bunyon's The Pilgrim's Progress apparently only got a half dose. It will cost headaches, but can still be read.

Since I'm trying to avoid using brain-damage as an excuse, I have to come up with something else. It might be the number of birthdays behind me, although I know people with more candles on their cake who seem able to function as if they still had all their marbles. What hair I have left carries the distinct look of "wisdom." I'm welcome in gray-haired company these days. It really is a shame that looks can be deceiving.

I've got a collection of great excuses. I've saved them for years, typing them into a special file in the computer. Just one little problem. I can't remember the file name. Now is there a better excuse than brain damage for that?

Fan of You Tube - Meyer

As a recent reluctant convert to social media, I am still navigating my way slowly around the Internet, discovering hitherto unknown (to me) and unexplored vistas.

In the last few weeks, I have discovered You Tube. Of course, I knew it existed. Perhaps, I should back up and explain that I only recently acquired high-speed Internet service. Living as I do 850+ km north of the nearest large city (Winnipeg), I limped along for quite some time with dial-up (through telephone lines) and then 3G (a modem using cell phone service). Both were very slow and often unreliable. Watching a You Tube video was not possible.

Being able to watch a You Tube video at my leisure has opened up a whole new world for me. I recently watched some life stage performances of popular musicians and thought, oh, that’s what the fuss is all about! Many performers have incredible stage presence that cannot be realized unless you have the good fortune of being able to see them live – or watch them on You Tube.

In addition to learning about (and enjoying) music, You Tube can also be an educational tool in other areas. In a college class that I am teaching, one of my students recently used a You Tube video in his presentation about Nonverbal Learning Disorder.

You can look up any topic you like, topics such as: Canadian Christian Author. When I did this, I got an excellent video produced by 100 Huntley St about Write! Canada. The title for this You Tube video is: Christian Writers – The Word Guild.

With Write! Canada just around the corner, I would encourage you to take a gander at this little clip and perhaps send it along to others.
Write! Canada is a great opportunity to learn and grow as a writer. The website for Write! Canada is http://www.writecanada.org/.
This year, the dates are June 16-18 and the location is Guelph, Ontario.
I’ll be there. Will you?

Dorene Meyer
http://www.dorenemeyer.com/

Author of The Little Ones and Jasmine
Now in book stores across Canada
Distributed by Word Alive Press http://www.wordalivepress.ca/.
Available online and as ebook on Amazon http://www.amazon.com/ (key in title of book and publisher: Word Alive Press).

Also author of Lewis, due to be released in March!