Jan 22, 2008 Posted by mike

No, really, where do you get your ideas?

by Robbi Hess I know they’re out there… somewhere. I walk five miles a day hoping one of them will hop up onto my shoulder and shriek “pick me, pick me.” It rarely happens. Some days I just lie on my bed in the early hours of the morning, hoping that if I am really still one of them will shimmy up my arm and whisper in my ear, “here I am.” No such luck. Ideas. When you are... read more

Jan 22, 2008 Posted by mike

Genre, genre, who’s got the genre?

by Robbi Hess The difference between nonfiction and fiction is like the difference between a photograph and a painting. My nonfiction works consisted of snapshots of the people I interviewed – their thoughts and the issues I explored. Fiction has enabled me to explore my creative side – to paint word pictures with wide brush strokes, to give my unconscious free rein and to entertain rather than... read more

Jan 21, 2008 Posted by mike

A Change In Perspective

by Julie Wilson A change in perspective will do you and your writing some good. It keeps you on your toes. Being a little uncomfortable, a little less certain, challenges you to right yourself according to new rules. I used to have a writing teacher whose lifelong goal was to walk through all worlds freely and yet confident of who she was at her core. Writing what you know means getting out and learning... read more

Jan 21, 2008 Posted by mike

Reading Aloud

by Julie Wilson I used to think that public readings alienated the writer from the audience because it infused too much performance into what should naturally leap from the page. Chances are, though, you’re going to end up reading your stuff out loud. And while as writers we may inhabit our characters, we’re not necessarily actors. Nonetheless, we should prepare as if we are. I just gave my... read more

Jan 21, 2008 Posted by mike

“Best Wishes, J. sernaise”

by Julie Wilson My Grade Nine math teacher was a reserved man who mumbled in hushed tones barely audible above the wheeze of his sneakers and the quick zip of his corduroys. We knew Mr. Sernasie – Mr. Sernasie-Sir – could speak louder; we’d all heard the occasional spat coming from the staff room. I wondered if his subtle demeanour was a ploy, meant to force our attentions to the front of... read more