Chicken Man

Posted on April 4, 2011 by Erin Thomas

Ever wonder how a writer is made? Here’s how.

On Thursday, my seven-year-old daughter came out of school at lunch complaining about a “mean supply teacher.” Being a supply teacher myself, I asked what he had done that was so mean.

“He had a big voice,” she said.

I nodded. She doesn’t like loud voices. Most teaching days I wish I had a bigger voice, but I can see how it might be off-putting for a sensitive second grader.

“And he gave us really hard work to do,” she said. “A whole math sheet that was really hard!”

My Mommy-radar perked up, sensing academic issues that needed to be addressed. “What kind of math was so hard?”

She thought for a moment. “It was all multiplying and dividing with big numbers!”

I hadn’t realized they were doing multiplication. Doesn’t that start in the later grades? Never mind. I drove on, formulating a plan to tackle the times tables one by one. Nightly exercises at the kitchen table. Maybe some work with counters at first to make it fun.

My husband was waiting for us at home. “How was your morning?” he asked.

Sarah told about the mean supply teacher again. This time, he had a business suit as well as a booming voice. And a briefcase.

I pictured a new teacher, fresh out of college, hoping to impress the principals before hiring season. Only… it was still March. Huh. Maybe wearing a suit to teach primary grades was just this guy’s schtick. I wouldn’t want his dry-cleaning bill.

Over lunch she expanded on the portrait. It turned out that he had asked my daughter and her friend (“You in the pink. And you, little girl with the blue in your hair.”) to carry his briefcase over to a table in the classroom and open it up to get the work out. Inside they found a pile of paper airplanes held down by a rubber chicken.

“That was your work?” my husband asked. “Paper airplanes and a rubber chicken?”

Maybe this guy was a drama major. Maybe he had devised this elaborate supply teaching persona just to keep the kids entertained and a little off-balance. A 21st Century answer to Mary Poppins. Genius.

Could I pull it off? Nah.

“We unfolded the paper airplanes and that was the work,” she said. She went on to talk about him whapping them on the head with the rubber chicken when they were lining up for gym class. “Just lightly,” she said, when I expressed concern. “Not hard. Not like ‘whap!'”

She went back to school for the afternoon with misgivings, hoping that her beloved regular teacher would be back. “I don’t know,” said my husband. “I think this guy sounds kind of fun.”

After school, we found out that Chicken Man had been there for the full day. And in the afternoon, as well as his briefcase, he had brought a laptop case with a computer in it. Not a Mac, my daughter specified. Such things are matters of great import in our house.

The computer had some kind of secret spy program on it so he could sit at it and pretend to be working, and it would make typing noises, but in the meantime, it was really showing him a picture of the class so he could watch what they were doing when they thought he wasn’t looking. “He let us go back and see,” she explained.

A strange, high-tech, rubber-chicken-wielding Mary Poppins. He seemed more like a character than a person. I got that itchy feeling that writers get when they want to put something in a story, but aren’t quite sure they should.

We joked about Chicken Man for the rest of the week, and then on Saturday she had a friend from class over.

Trying to make small talk over grilled cheese, I opened with “So I hear you guys had a pretty crazy supply teacher last Thursday.”

The friend looked confused. My daughter looked sheepish. The truth came out.

Chicken Man never existed. Except for the part where she had a supply teacher she didn’t like. He had given them hard subtracting to work on (she was disappointed when I explained that the regular teacher usually assigns the work), but no multiplication or division. No suit. No briefcase. Perhaps saddest of all, no rubber chicken.

Part of my brain, the responsible parent part, said that I should be horrified that she had lied to us for two days. A much larger part of my brain was impressed that she had done it so well. Chicken Man was a fascinating character, and she had made him convincing.

I did the responsible thing and pointed out how the truth tends to surface and how lying is a bad idea. We talked about how it’s important to be clear on what’s “fiction” and what’s “non-fiction.”

But we also talked about how interesting Chicken Man had been, and how it would be fun to write stories about a crazy supply teacher. And how wonderful it is that she has such an imagination.

Deep in my heart, I applaud her diabolical genius. And I totally want to write that story about Chicken Man. But I suppose I should leave it for my daughter. After all, he is her character.

Posted in Writing | Tagged | 6 Comments

How my Writing Group is like a Bumblebee

Posted on April 1, 2011 by Erin Thomas

Because we’re always buzzing about something?

No. I was actually thinking about that old saying about how a bumble shouldn’t be able to fly, but the bee doesn’t know that, so it flies anyhow. However, a quick Google search put paid to that theory. I’m going to write my blog post anyhow.

Bumblebee at flower, photo by kmg (stock.xchng)

Keep flapping those wings!

My writing group is big. Ten people, give or take, with sometimes a member or two on leave of absence. It can, at times, be hard to get a word in edgewise. Sometimes, when a lot of people have work ready to bring to the table, we have to schedule our critique turns months in advance. It should be cumbersome. It should implode.

It flies.

So lately I’ve been wondering about that — about what makes a writing group work or not work. This is my second writing group. My first died of natural causes… six of us met in a writing course and decided to form a group. Over the course of a couple of years many of us moved away from the city, in opposite directions. Several of us had babies. The group drifted. I still adore them, and we still keep loosely in touch, but it just became impractical to meet up.

My current writing group, Critical Ms., has a fluid membership base. People come and go. Sometimes we have a waiting list. Sometimes we’re scrambling for members. Sometimes people leave, sometimes they come back. I think this flexibility is part of what has allowed the group to stay alive. It isn’t the same collection of people it was when I joined, but in all the ways that matter, it’s the same group.

Not everyone in the group is published. Not everyone in the group is interested in the same kind of writing. Sometimes we have to stretch a little, when someone wants to explore a form of writing that’s new to us. I don’t write poems, songs or non-fiction, but I’ve critiqued all three, and learned from the experiences.

We meet every second Tuesday. Same time, same place. We don’t change our meeting night if someone can’t make it. The group keeps going.

We each read the work being critiqued ahead of time. We each independently print off the pages and write comments on them, and usually write a sort of editorial letter to the author as well. But the magic happens at the meeting. Somehow, when those ten people around the table start discussing the work, ideas and insights arise that didn’t come from any one person at the table, but from the discussion itself.

Someone made a joke one week about the critique being greater than the sum of its parts. I’m not sure it’s a joke after all.

I don’t know if it’s the format that makes the group work. I think that’s part of it. I think that’s why Critical Ms. didn’t dissolve, like my first writing group, when the first members started to drift away. But that makes it sound like the group functions independently of the people in it, and that’s not the case.

The reason the group works is that we care. Every person in that room cares about his or her own writing, and cares about the writing of the other people in the room. We’re all committed to learning more about the craft. We all believe that writing works best when it’s not a solitary endeavour. We support each other… even when that support needs to take the form of (*ahem*) nagging. (That’s usually my job. I’m good at it.)

We critique thoroughly, but with respect. If one of us learns something useful or stumbles across a great resource or opportunity, you can bet that by the next meeting, we’ll all know about it. We celebrate each other’s victories. We secretly (editors, don’t read this part) boo each other’s rejection letters. Except the nice ones. Those ones count as victories, so we cheer those. Then we roll up our sleeves and get to work and figure out how to make the next submission count.

We’re choosy about who comes into the group, because this “play nice” strategy needs to be nurtured, but we each know that the group exists independently of any one of us. I think, in that sense, it becomes something of a privilege to belong. And maybe that helps us take the commitment more seriously.

I’ve been part of this group for a while now. Five years, maybe? I’m not sure. Some people have been there longer, others not as long. I missed some time when the whole cancer thing happened. Carole Enahoro, the woman who brought me into the group, flew off to England ages ago. A few times I’ve seen the group waver, and worried that even this solid little ship could shake apart, but somehow we always work it out.

When I joined Critical Ms., my writing life changed for the better. I started taking it more seriously. I learned a lot — so much — from the other writers in the group. I think that if and when you’re ready to get serious about your writing, the best step you can take is to find yourself a supportive, solid critique group. I’ll always be grateful to Carole for inviting me into hers.

If you can’t find one, make one — writing courses are a great place to find like-minded people, and CANSCAIP offers a bulletin-board-style page on its website for Members and Friends to post calls for writing groups. The Writers’ Community of Durham Region (WCDR) will be forming some kind of support system for starting up writing groups over the next year or so. Your local writing organization might have some kind of system in place as well.

Heck, you can use the comment space below to post a “writing group wanted” ad if you want, although you might do better on Twitter. There are online groups as well. That format didn’t work for me when I tried it, but for many people, it’s a great option. The important thing is that you find a group that supports and cares about what you’re doing.

I’d love to hear from you. Are you part of a writing group? Has it made a difference to your writing? How does your group work? And most of all, what do you think makes it fly?

Posted in Writing | Tagged | 4 Comments

Scribbling Women: Interview with Marthe Jocelyn

Posted on March 30, 2011 by Erin Thomas

Today’s blog post is officially part of Marthe Jocelyn’s Scribbling Women book tour. That means that anyone who comments on it gets entered into a draw by Tundra Books to win a complete set of Marthe’s books! You can find more information, and a list of the other participating blogs, here.

The first time I heard Marthe speak was last November, when she was the keynote speaker for CANSCAIP’s Packing Your Imagination conference. I wrote a little bit about it here. My favourite line, still, was when she said that for a writer, lies are as important a tool as an eraser.

That’s a strange introduction to an interview, isn’t it? But I’m pretty sure Marthe was telling the truth here. You can decide for yourself. Read on for what she has to say about letter writing and online platforms and growing up around the stage.

* * *

ET: I remember from your PYI talk that you grew up around the Stratford Festival — did the stories there influence you in wanting to write?

MJ: I wanted to be an actress when I was very young, possibly because the writer was not as visible a part of what I watched and loved on stage. After a brief effort, I gave up the idea of acting, due to serious shyness. Possibly that is when I started to pay attention to the other ways I might participate in theatre. I have written two plays — one for child actors and one for a child audience — but the main trickle-down learning from the stage to my novels is probably the realization that dialogue is far different from conversation. It should be moving the plot or enhancing the characters.

ET: Were there some actors (especially women, since we’re talking about “Scribbling Women”) who showed you how characters could come to life?

MJ: I was a big fan of Martha Henry, initially because of her name and later because she was a great stage actress. I used to wait for her outside the (Stratford Festival) stage door, even if I hadn’t been to see the play. I still have numerous programs with her autograph.

ET: In your foreword to Scribbling Women, you mention coming across the letters of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, and that her letters inspired you to look for other women who wrote. You also make the point that the physical act of writing intrigued you — when did these women find the time to put their words to paper, given all the other things that they had to do? Do you think that, in writing, they (or we) are hoping to leave something behind to connect with future generations?

MJ: Of the eleven scribblers in my book, four were consciously attempting to connect with and pass along to future readers; Harriet Jacobs was a runaway slave who wrote a memoir for the purpose of revealing the trials and abuses suffered by the community of slaves that she’d grown up amongst. Isabella Beeton and Mary Kingsley each wrote books about her own particular passion — homemaking for Mrs. Beeton, and West Africa for Mary. Doris Pilkington-Garimara wrote memoirs about her mother’s and her own life as members of Australia’s Stolen Generations.

Nellie Bly was a journalist, concerned with the immediate, and all the others wrote private documents that they would be astounded to know are being read by the general public today.

As for “us”? Anyone who publishes a book is hoping that it will possibly be read beyond our lifetime. That is not, however, the driving motive behind my daily task of writing a few hundred words…

Which leads neatly into your next question…

ET: As a writer, how do you structure your time around writing? Do you ever think about why you do it?

MJ: I don’t really think about why I do it except that it’s one of the few things I know how to do AND like doing, in exchange for money. Structuring time is one of the big challenges. I make a to-do list every morning. I put a time beside each item. I get about halfway through the day on schedule and then I make excuses and change my mind and do an errand or read for awhile… and then I try to write some more.

ET: Some of these women were writing letters, wanting to share their stories with their friends and family. That was a practical thing, of course — back then, there was no other way to communicate with those who were far away. Still, there’s something interesting in that urge to share narrative in the form of long letters. Nowadays we don’t tend to do that. We share little blips at a time — email, tweets — and because the liens of communication are always “on,” there’s less of an impulse to step back and think about what the story of the past week/month/year has been.

MJ: True

ET: Are you a letter writer?

MJ: I used to write letters, before email, and I still manage the odd thank you note or condolence letter. But what is sad for the archives (fewer letters for historians) certainly makes for a livelier, if more vacuous, social life, with daily communication instead of monthly or even yearly with some distant friends.

ET: As a writer, do you put a lot of time into building your “online platform” (blogging, tweeting, etc.)?

MJ: No, not much. I’m learning, but it’s a bit too time consuming to make the commitment to using the “online platform” to its full extent.

ET: I liked the point that you made in your book about email not leaving behind any artifacts, like a scrap of cloth or a lock of hair. There’s the loss of handwriting, too. Seeing the shape of someone’s letters on paper can help us form an impression of them. When we type, all our letters look the same. Did writing this book change the way that you feel about writing and communication?

MJ: I was already a believe in writing, so I can’t say that has changed, but possibly my definition of “writing” has expanded. Even the women who were nearly illiterate and certainly not literary managed to tell profound stories and to reveal their spirit. And I found it intriguing that even women who were nearly illiterate chose, perhaps urgently needed to express themselves using words.

* * *

I should explain that by “interview,” I mean that I sent Marthe a rambling email filled with questions and observations, and she somehow managed to make sense of it all. Thank you, Marthe!

Please don’t forget to comment, so that you can be entered for your chance to win a set of Marthe’s books! I’d love to hear about the Scribbling Women who inspired you to write, or about your views on letter writing versus email. Or how you approach writing in your own life. And when you do have the chance to read Scribbling Women, please share your thoughts! I look forward to hearing them.

Posted in Book Reviews | Tagged , | 24 Comments

Scribbling Women: who inspired you to write?

Posted on March 29, 2011 by Erin Thomas

Last week I asked some of my favourite female children’s writers if there were any “scribbling women” (authors or otherwise) who inspired them to write.

We’ll start with Marthe Jocelyn. Tomorrow I’ll be posting an interview with her, so this is a preview.

The question: Are there any “scribbling women” (in your book, but especially in your own life) who helped inspire you to write?

Marthe’s answer: “I’m not conscious of direct inspiration or influence except that every book I read – more than half written by women – leaves a tiny trace behind. A diligent scholar could probably trace the effects that certain other people’s writing had upon my own, but I am thankfully not aware of it myself.”

Lena Coakley, author of the upcoming YA fantasy novel The Witchlanders, remembered one woman in particular.

“When I was growing up, we had a border named Miss Hurka who lived in the attic apartment of our house. She was a retired secretary and an aspiring novelist. I would hear her typewriter late at night as I was going to sleep. Miss Hurka always wore black and made frequent trips to New York City (about 40 minutes by train, but to me, a world away).

“Most of my family was a little afraid of her, but when I was young, I often called up the stairs and asked to visit her. Miss Hurka would feed me dry cookies and tell me highly age-inappropriate stories. Her three favorite topics were: The grand affair she had during the war with a married man; her loathing of Richard Nixon; and the (then) sad history of the Czech Republic.

“As far as I know, Miss Hurka was never published, but the portrait in my mind of what it means to be a woman writer will always be a little coloured by her.”

Lena will be writing more about Miss Hurka in her blog entry this week. I can’t wait to read it!

Cheryl Rainfield, whose GG Award-nominated YA novel Scars draws on her own experience of abuse and self harm, looked at reading as a refuge. She says that she loved most of the books she read, and I suspect that included a lot of books! But some stood out.

“I especially loved LM Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables because I identified with her so much — initially unloved, unwanted, searching for a family; she had strong swings of emotion (when she was happy she was SO high, and when she was depressed, she was SO down) like I did; AND she was super creative, almost like dissociation the way I was, AND wanted to be (and became) a writer. That was one of my faves.

“Also Ellen Bass and Laura Davis, because they wrote The Courage to Heal, about incest, which I read over and over as a teen, and needed to know others were breaking the silence; it helped me with my breaking the silence.

“And Lois Duncan, because I loved her books SO much, and read and reread and reread them.”

Cheryl says that all these women writers helped her to want to be a writer, along with the other writers she has since discovered and loved along the way. She’s also grateful to the English teachers who encouraged her.

Wide-ranging children’s writer Kathy Stinson talks about feeling encouraged to try new forms.

“New Zealand writer Margaret Mahy, with her writing across many genres and age groups, encouraged me to try my hand at anything I felt remotely inclined to write. With her wonderful collection The Leaving, Budge Wilson ensured that short stories would be in that category.”

And Karen Krossing, like Marthe Jocelyn, had trouble choosing just one “scribbling woman” who influenced her, but is grateful to many writers.

“Rather than being inspired to write by any one woman, I feel that I’m inspired by the ‘grand collective.’ Over the years, I’ve drawn insights from a wide range of female scribblers whom I admire, like Ursula K. LeGuin and Margaret Atwood. When I read The Life of Margaret Laurence, by James King, I bemoaned the heartache that seems to be part of the creative process. I obtained ‘permission’ (if you can call it that) to pursue a writer’s life from women like Julia Cameron (author of The Artist’s Way) and Natalie Goldberg (author of Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within). But I have to say that my original inspiration is likely my mother, who is not a scribbler, but a teller of rich and diverse family stories. The love of a good story captured me young and I know that, as long as I have a pencil and notebook, I will be content.”

Like some of the others, I have trouble choosing a female writer who inspired me to write. As a kid, I read everything I could get my hands on. Since my dad was a sci-fi fan, that included a lot of Andre Norton’s books. I didn’t know she was female, though, until my friend Jonathon started moaning about it one day in high school. He was devastated — or else pretending to be, to get a laugh. I hadn’t known Andre Norton was female, either — to be honest, writers were pretty much invisible to me back then. I just wanted to read the stories. I wasn’t picky about who wrote them. But hearing Jonathon talk about it, I remember smiling. Andre Norton wasn’t my favourite author, not by a long shot, but all those planets, all those worlds, they came from a woman? Someone who had been a girl. Someone like me. It felt like a delicious secret. It felt empowering.

It doesn’t always have to be a writer, either, as Karen Krossing pointed out. Most of the women in Marthe’s book weren’t. I had the amazing experience of seeing Sarah McLachlan in concert last Saturday night. In Oshawa! Who’d have thought? She was recovering from laryngitis, but I’d never have known it. She sounded incredible. Her passion and drive and professionalism made me want to dig deeper as a novelist, to write better. To try harder. (Also to sing more, but nobody wants to hear that. Really.)

The inspiration to write can come from anywhere. From books we read. From people we talk to. I think in the end, what matters is that we act on it. Pick up a pen, tell a story. Scribble away.

You never know whose life you’re going to touch.

Posted in Writing Life | Tagged , | 6 Comments

Scribbling Women Update and Website 2.0!

Posted on March 28, 2011 by Erin Thomas

Scribbling Women Book Tour

Coming this week: Marthe Jocelyne’s “Scribbling Women” book tour has officially started. If you comment on any post that’s part of the book tour, you are entered into a draw with Tundra Books to win a complete set of Marthe Jocelyne’s books. That’s a lot of reading!

My contribution: later today and Tuesday, I’ll be sharing with you the stories of some Scribbling Women I know and the women who inspired them to write. Wednesday, for my official blog tour post, I’ll be sharing an interview with Marthe Jocelyn. She’s an amazing woman. You don’t want to miss it. Or your chance to win the eight zillion books she’s written!

Website 2.0

Things look a bit different here this morning. My husband was up late last night, wrestling with WordPress to give this website a bit of polish. I love it!

What I want to point out: over on the right, you’ll see two widgets. One is linked to Goodreads and shows the book that I’m reading at the moment. I’m always happy to talk books, so please feel free to get in touch if you’ve read it or if you’re thinking about it!

The other, the one I’m most proud of, is “Whitby Chronicle.” I’ve been researching Whitby in the 1880s for a current project. That means lots of time in the Whitby Archives with incredible local historian Brian Winter, and it also means quality hours with the microfiche readers at Whitby Library. As I go cross-eyed, I thought I’d share some tidbits from the Whitby Chronicle, the local newspaper at that time. Enjoy! It’s set to random, and I’ll be adding as I go, so you never know what will pop up.

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The Books are Up

Posted on March 24, 2011 by Erin Thomas

Our new fantasy series with HIP Books is up on their website! Go have a look! (Scroll down.)

The books aren’t available for sale yet, but this really makes it feel like they’re coming soon!

 

 

 

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Book Review: Scribbling Women

Posted on March 14, 2011 by Erin Thomas

Okay, so as previously mentioned, I’m part of Marthe Jocelyne’s blog tour for her new book, Scribbling Women.

I received my copy of the book in the mail a while ago. My first Advance Copy! Well, of a book that’s not mine, anyhow. (The book is due for release March 22, I believe.)

Being part of the blog tour means that I get to post a review of the book before the book is even out. Yay!!! It also means that on Wednesday, March 30, I’ll be posting… well, something. That’s my blog tour date. It’s a surprise, largely because I haven’t decided yet what I’m going to post on that day.

But it’ll be cool.

And even if it isn’t, you want to be here and to comment, because Tundra Books is hosting a huge book giveaway. One complete set of books by Marthe Jocelyne–that’s 28 books, ranging in age from toddler books to YA novels. Take a look!

You can, in fact, leave a comment on each of the 30 participating blogs for 30 chances to win. And as soon as I can figure out how to upload a PDF to this website, I’ll have the list of participating blogs here for you.

In the meantime: my book review.

Scribbling Women is a collection of stories. Stories of women who left behind their words. Their diaries, their letters, sometimes their fiction. These women give us glimpses into their worlds — worlds that are fascinating, and for the most part, worlds I knew nothing about.

In her foreword, Marthe tells us that when she was researching for this book, she found information on thousands of women who left their words behind. Thousands. This book tells the stories of eleven. So how did she choose? She narrowed her list to “those whose stories made me catch my breath.”

We start with Sei Shonagon. Her real name is unknown; Sei would have been her family name, Marthe tells us, while “shonagon” meant “junior counsellor.” That was probably the job of one of her male relatives. So her name has been lost, but her words have not. She left behind a collection of snippets written while she was at court. Thoughts. Poems. Observations. She was born more than one thousand years ago, but many of her “lists” (like poems in themselves) still ring true.

Things that Pass by Rapidly
A boat with its sail up.
People’s age.
Spring. Summer. Autumn. Winter.

From Sei, we move to Margaret Catchpole, who was sent to prison for stealing a horse. And from there, she was sent to Australia: Transported for Life. She left in 1801. Her letters give us a glimpse into a world that’s as far removed in time as it is in distance.

The next entry, Mary Hayden Russel, seems confident and sure of herself, despite travelling on a whaling ship in a time when women on board a ship were generally considered bad luck. And the next story, Harriet Ann Jacobs’ story, is perhaps the most horrifying. She spent years living in a tiny, cramped space as a runaway slave, watching the world through a peephole.

Mary Henrietta Kingsley was one of my favourites. She’s a Victorian lady with the mind and heart of a scientist. Her writing is deliciously descriptive. “The first day in the forest we came across a snake — a beauty with a new red-brown and yellow-patterned velvety skin, about three feet six inches long and as thick as a man’s thigh….We had the snake for supper, that is to say the Fan and I; the others would not touch it, although a good snake, properly cooked, is one of the beat meats one gets out here, far and away better than the African fowl.”

Nellie Bly amazed me, too, with the things that she endured for the sake of investigative journalism. She wanted to tell the stories that mattered, from the point of view of those who were living them. She was driven to share the truth.

The same could be said of each of these women, each in her own way. Ada Blackjack wrote from an island north of Siberia. She wrote her story by hand in halting English, only using the typewriter left behind by one of her party to report the death of the man who had been her last companion.

Dang Thuy Tram was a doctor in North Vietnam. Her diary, when found by a Vietnamese Sergeant, prompted him to tell his American friend not to burn it: “There is fire in it already.”

And Doris Pilkington’s account of her mother’s escape from a government-run Native Settlement and back to her family is heartrending.

Marthe does a wonderful job of using her own words, with selections from the women’s writing, to tell their stories. Her writing is transparent. Through it, we get to see what she saw, in reading the original sources.

If there’s a weak spot in the book, it’s the short linking paragraphs used to connect the women’s stories together. The transitions and connections often feel forced. She compares how long two women waited for replies, for example. And yet, I would not like to see the book without them. These connections, as forced as they might seem at times, help create a thread between the stories. They drive home the point that these women all had something in common.

At whatever time, for whatever reason, each picked up a pen to express herself. Each left behind something of her own remarkable story.  And each, in her own way, knew the value of words.

Marthe’s Jocelyn’s book, Scribbling Women, will take you on a journey through a range of places and times. I’ve heard it said that the drive to write is the drive to make worlds come alive. If that’s the case, Marthe Jocelyne, along with each of the women she writes about, feels that drive.

Posted in Book Reviews | Tagged | 5 Comments

Book Review: Revolution by Jennifer Donnelly

Posted on March 7, 2011 by Erin Thomas

I haven’t posted many book reviews here, but I just finished a good book, so I want to share.

Jennifer Donnelly’s Revolution is a YA that clocks in at a hefty 123,000 words. I devoured it in a few days.

I’m a sucker for a great voice, and Jennifer Donnelly has it. Her main character, Andi, is gutsy and outspoken and intelligent and hurting. It made for some compelling reading. The character in the French revolution-era diary grabbed me equally as much, and I love seeing Andi’s growing fascination with her. Add some fascinating insight into the evolution of music and a look at the city of Paris, both in the 18th century and in modern times, and I was hooked.

The only place that this novel sagged a little, for me, was when (spoiler alert) Andi goes back in time to live the life of the girl in the diary and meets her musical idol. The idea of her sharing her iPod with him was cute, but overall, the scenes with him in them just didn’t live up to the promise of the rest of the novel. However, we’re soon pulled back into the story again, for a satisfying ending.

A great book that I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend to a friend. I know I’ll read it again.

* * *

Stay tuned for my review of Marthe Jocelyln’s new book, Scribbling Women. I’ll be part of her upcoming blog tour, which means several cool things including a giant book giveaway. But that’s another post.

Posted in Book Reviews | Tagged | 2 Comments

Cows and the YA Mafia

Posted on March 3, 2011 by Erin Thomas

I don’t keep up on Twitter very well. I follow too many people. When I’m away for a few hours (say, writing) I end up scrolling past a great number of comments that I’ve missed. Every now and then, though, a combination of words will hit me between the eyeballs and make me want to click.

YA Mafia, it turns out, is such a word combination.

The YA Mafia is apparently a collection of high-powered YA writers who will use their influence for nefarious purposes such as anti-recommending writers who cross them. You can read rebuttals of it here (Justine Larbalestier) and here (Holly Black).

This made me laugh. I don’t know a lot of high-powered writers. Lots of writers, yes, but few in the same stratosphere as Holly Black. Still, I’ve had my share of ga-ga moments with Canadian writers whose books I loved… silly, fangirly moments like “Omigod, that’s Jean Little over there,” or “I’m sitting on a couch, at a party, with Barbara Greenwood!”

I’ve shared pizza with Arthur Slade and it’s possible that, due to large ocean waves and faulty bathing suit construction, Kathy Stinson and I may have seen more of each other than is entirely proper. All of these are people whose books I love. And without exception, every one of them has been friendly, kind and supportive.

I was talking about this with a librarian the other day. I can’t remember how it came up, but she was surprised to hear the extent to which writers help one another. I can’t vouch for the grown-up writers. But in Canadian children’s lit, I have never had a bad experience.

Some examples: just today, I emailed Arthur Slade to ask a really stupid question about dairy cow farming. I had misremembered. He grew up on a ranch, not a dairy farm. Still, he took the time to pass my question along to his father and to write back with an answer. He even included this picture.

Cow and calfCute calf, isn’t it? I think I shall name it Arthur.

A few months ago, at my publisher’s Christmas party, I met Barbara Greenwood. Yup, that was the couch incident. And once I got over my tongue-swallowing and managed to talk with her, I was amazed by how gracious she was. Not gracious like the queen, although I think in my mind she should be wearing some kind of CanLit crown. Gracious and approachable and friendly.

We talked about a time period I was researching, and she mentioned reading several mystery novels set in that time. Later, I followed up by asking her if she could recommend one or two. She send a two thousand word email listing a dozen different series and giving me specific suggestions within each.

And when the time came to paint Cheryl Rainfield’s apartment and help her move, who was there? Yup–fellow writers. We swapped rollers and book recommendations.

This is what I’ve come to expect from my fellow writers. Friendly faces. A general acknowledgement that we’re all in this business together and while it isn’t always easy, it is rewarding. A shared passion. Joy over one another’s accomplishments. Help when asked or needed. And I always, always try to offer the same.

So if there is a YA Mafia out there… let’s just say that to me, it sounds more like somebody’s novel premise than like an actual snapshot of the world of children’s writing. I might be just getting started, but I know I’m proud to be part of this group.

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Lena Coakley’s Website Open

Posted on March 2, 2011 by Erin Thomas

I wouldn’t normally post twice in one day, but this deserves its own space.

My friend (and very talented writer) Lena Coakley has just posted her first blog entry. It’s a cute one, on writing and superstition and how she gave up a love affair with her local mailman in order to focus on her true calling. She’ll be posting every Wednesday (hopefully more reliably than I’m sticking to my new resolution to post on Mondays). That’ll be a blog to watch.

Also, when her new novel, Witchlanders, comes out? You want it. Trust me, you want it.

But you’ll have to stand in line behind me to get it.

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