by Sylvia McNicoll | Jun 3, 2011 | Sylvia McNicoll
The real fun of The Writers Union AGM, or perhaps any day of workshops, is the people you meet over dinner. Sadly in a bid to save money for writers, there is no forced breaking of bread at current meetings. Except for the banquet which is very, very fun (no one dances quite like a writer) but pricey.
But through the magic of social networking,
17 of some of my closest buddies from across Toronto and Canada got together at Jack Astor’s before the Margaret Laurence Address. Ah, you have to love Facebook sometimes cause it helps us meet up face to face. Let’s see if I can name the writers, Jo-Ellen Bogart, Della Buford, Ann Walsh, Norma Charles, Barbara, Ellen Jaffe, Sylvia McNicoll(me)
Gisela Sherman, Andrea Wayne von Koningslow, Jocelyn Shipley, Deb Loughead and Jack.
Tucked away at the other table are a few more friends, but the waiter didn’t include them in the shot.
Maybe they were late. Feel free to fill in the last names I’m missing.
by Sylvia McNicoll | Jun 3, 2011 | Sylvia McNicoll
When I wrap a package, I feel like Ms Bean (Mr. Bean’s feminine counterpart). Â I often have to re-open it to see if I’ve lost my watch in it or a chicken part. Â Or if that extra draft lying around was meant to go in. Â I understand my last Artist in Education application did not include a book list. (Even though the jury took note that you were an accomplished writer) Oh come on. Â Really? Or enough creative process in how I teach kids. Â Or enough detail in how I go about getting schools. Â “We regret to inform you…”
Sigh. Â This is after making piles of papers on my bed and checking off a list (and mailing said list)
and wrappings the dread parcel.
What adds to the fun part of the process is that the gatekeeper sounds a bit like Inspector Clouseau.
He must be sick of answering my same question every granting season. Â “When do you open?”
I imagine him sighing in a Parisian accent. (Quelle idiote)
I just can’t believe they only fling the doors open at 9:00 a.m., 8:30 a.m. would be so much more convenient.
I also imagine him shaking his head when he opens my oversized package. Â And then while removing the watch and chicken part.
Still maybe this time I’ll be lucky. Maybe everything will be there as it should. Â All the checky boxes checked. Â My “peers” will find me worthy. Â Or worthier than the other
peers that applied.
Still hoping for a postal strike to help the odds.
by Sylvia McNicoll | May 27, 2011 | Sylvia McNicoll
Today I’m writing from the conference of the Courtyart Mariott during the Writers’ Union AGM lunch break. On the way here, as it was close, I delivered a grant application to Ontario Arts Council.
It’s a sweaty process. From
finding the correct box in which to mail five copies of 40 pages, to deciding whether your manuscript is (tick the box off) Literature or Young Adult. Also I’m confused by the instructions to “Not Photocopy” certain pages What if I do? I’m supposed
to keep a complete copy of the application afterall. How would “they” know. It’s like removing the White Material tag from a stuffed animal.
We’re supposed to use a 12 pt font, put name and address on one title page and use a header with the title of the work exactly as it appears on the application form (the one you can’t photocopy) AND use both sides of the page. That was a new one on me. Too late. I think it’s an environmental move so redoing the 200 pages to comply would be counter productive.
No matter. At least I delivered it by hand. I almost hope for a postal strike so mine will be one of only a few applications. Then they won’t throw me away over the photocopying issue or the one side of the page usage.
by Sylvia McNicoll | May 27, 2011 | Sylvia McNicoll
It takes a lot to pry writers from their offices but once a year I make the trek to Marilyn Helmer’s in Bellwood for a potluck lunch. The drive involves a winding country road with lots of horses gamboling on the side in the fields. The food is delicious as this gang (Marilyn, myself, Deb Loughead, Liane Goodall, and Gisela Sherman are all great cooks. Â We enjoyed cranberry meatballs, grilled vegetable orzo salad, smoked salmon carrot souflee, wild leek and potato casserole and a coleslaw with brocolli and walnuts that defies the very label. Â Plus we had great conversation, discussing the dilemma of how much of our time should be spent blogging, twittering, face booking and creating book trailers when we’d rather be writing…or eating for that matter. Â We decided that some minimal public effort needed to be made for the publisher’s viewing but after that it was whatever we enjoyed because who knows if anything really works. Â Writing the best book we know how is what we’re really in it for. Â Problems solved for another year we drove home.
by Sylvia McNicoll | May 27, 2011 | Sylvia McNicoll
It takes a lot to pry me from my office but once a year a few kids’ writers meet for potluck at Marilyn Helmer’s in Bellwood. Â It’s a drive with lots of horses gambolling in fields next to the road– my favourite kind. Â These writers are foodies so there was a carrot souffle with smoked salmon, Â cranberries meatballs, wild leek casserole, grilled vegetable confetti salad , coleslaw with walnuts and broccoli and locally made brownies and butter tarts. Â But it’s the conversation that’s really the best. Â Should we blog,twitter facebook create movie trailers for our books. Â Or can we just get away with writing the best story we can? Â Or should we just take a big long break…and eat? Â One of our conclusions is that some of our publicity efforts are largely to satisfy the publishers who need to see we are publicly making an effort. Â For this year, we’ve solved the problems of the world–and had some pretty fine food too.
by Sylvia McNicoll | Apr 20, 2011 | Sylvia McNicoll
A brilliant writer herself, Amy Corbin, a teacher
from R.H. Lagerquist Senior Public School, arranged a day of writing workshops for the students who wrote to tell her why they wanted to work with a published author.
I lead four short workshops to groups of about 20 students in the library. Look how attentive and hardworking they were. The last group liked computer writing and as we had a little extra time, we wrote scripts, one of the choices being, a student tells his parent (father in this case) that he’s in trouble. In turn the ending has to be a resolution of some sorts where his dad metes out punishment or deals with the situation. I don’t know how it got to that point, but striped shirt boy plays the part of the gun wielding dad who helps red hoodie son wipe out some other dudes. This is the last scene in which father and son get handcuffed and taken to jail.
Strange developments and hilarious creations. The future writers of Canada.
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