Getting ready for author visits to discuss the writing process involved in the creation of my new book, crush.candy.corpse What really happened in the forty-first hour? I decided I had to make a coffee bean necklace. My character, Sunny Ehret, suffers from a hypersensitive sense of smell and when she visits Paradise Manor, she’s troubled by the “methane gas” odour. Certainly, I have been troubled by this smell when visiting my mom’s residence back when she was alive. Sunny’s best friend suggests dabbing Vicks VapoRub under her nose. When Sunny visits the perfume counter instead, the clerk waves a coffee bean under her nose to clear the palate in order to better be able to smell the nuances of the next perfume sample. Bingo, Sunny decides a coffee bean necklace might be a better solution than medicine up her nostrils. The medicine idea was something caregivers in Mom’s residence had suggested to me.

How does this tie in with writing process? Well the primary question every author needs to try to address is where to you get your ideas? The easy answer is always from a) my brain (and I carry a rubber brain around with me) b) from my real life–enter the coffee bean necklace and my anecdotes.

Another tie in–a practical prop to encourage using your sense of smell in writing.

And here’s another way to tie in the coffee. Laura Peetrom, one of my favourite editors, when reading the book in its infancy, suggested a plausibility issue. Coffee bean necklaces, is that possible to make on your own? Had I tried this? Eek. No. I had just imagined it possible. So I googled and found out you needed to stick the beans in putty (see my lovely homemade purple playdough) and then drill holes on a slow speed.

Okay, I didn’t try it at the time but I trusted the Internet and wrote that solution in. Her brother Wolfie suggests the drill when she finds it hard to poke a needle through. Now, when I actually have time to make the necklace, not really but I felt I needed to, I found that nine out of ten coffee beans cracked.

My designer daughter Robin Forsyth from Rubicon Publishing suggested soakiing the beans. I tried that. Eight out ten beans cracked.

Progress was very slow.

Then out of desperation, as I was threading what few beans had made it into bead form, I poked a needle through. It didn’t split. I tried it again. And again. Some still split and I needed to kind of push the needle through with something hard that wasn’t my finger. Eventually I strung two great necklaces.

So you can see the second application of my coffee beans to writing process–the plausibility editorial comment. To my readers who make their own necklace without seeing these blog corrections, I

apologize. “Course they’ll never read this apology either. To my fab editor, Laura Peetrom, thank you.

Eighty-two stories came by Purolator from the Canadian Children’s Book Centre.  That’s not an overwhelming amount, in other years I’ve received boxes, well over a couple hundred.  The difference, however, is that these are from grade 10 students.  These stories are not just a packet of writing exercises assigned by a Toronto private school teacher and turned in.

These are poems, essays, and stories about holocaust, suicide, werewolves, dragons, bullying, Canada geese, lobster fishing and more.  They come from students from Nova Scotia, B.C., the Northwest Territories, and all the provinces in between.  Some are from homeschooled writers, others from urban collegiate students.

What’s more all of them are good. Or let me correct that and say all have kernels of greatness in them, lyrical moments, an emotional turn of a phrase, a funny line, an profound insight, a window into a different kind of life or thinking.

When you receive that many entries, the temptation is to read until the first grammatical error or lapse in view point etc.  The first moment you’re taken out of the storie by a miswrite, you flip it down on to the pile.

Not this time.  These entries deserved better. So I’m only reading them ten at a time, right through.  Sticking on little yellow post it notes to remind myself about the topic.  The best ones of the days go to the top of the pile.  Sometimes all ten go to the top.

Everyone needs to embrace a ritual to get into right brain.  Mine is the morning walk.  I have a coach–see my middle photo where Mortie gives me a scornful eye for taking too long in gathering up my jacket, shoes, leash etc.  If I run back to answer a phone or worse, check email, the look becomes vociferous.  Not just barking, but shaped moans and groans.

The final photo shows a random hole in the sky.  The monotony of walking helps you think but to be creative in any of the arts you need to be open to serendipitous input.  You want to observe details closer.  My digital camera is helping me with that. So my three secret writing tools: a morning walk, a talking dog and my digital camera.

Packaging Your Imagination (PYI) is the pickhit conference extravaganza that sells out early and leaves everyone breathless with inspiration. Editors, writers and illustrators share their tips and just

in time for Christmas, you can buy autographed copies of their work. February 11, 2012 we met to hammer out details of the November 10, 2012 PYI. Everything from how much food to order to whom we should invite to give the keynote address got decided in a very cordial way. Remember you heard it first here. Shh, shh! This is top secret but some of the confirmed speakers so far include: Paul Yee, Christopher Moore, Norma Charles, Carolyn Beck, Lena Coakley, Tim Wynne Jones, Clayton Hamner, Patricia Ocampo, Sheila Barry, Richard Scrimger, Vladyann KrykorkaRebecca Upjohn, and Helaine Becker. More to come yet. Some of the people in the photos, wonderful creators in their own right, are Patricia Storms, of course sitting under theart, Sharon Jennings, Lena Coakley, Gisela Sherman, Karen Krossing and Mahtab Narsihman. We’re looking forward to November.