Things I've Learned: A Setting that Shines

I usually ignore the piece of writing advice that says 'write what you know'. For one thing, it wouldn't take very long for me to write what I know, and no one would ever want to read it anyway.

For a long time I avoided setting my fiction in Newfoundland. I always went for bigger cities, more exotic places. Those are the places people want to read about. Then I happened to catch a show one night that really hooked me. The best part about it was the great east coast atmosphere.

{Epiphany}

Wait a minute. My town has a great east coast atmosphere.

It suddenly made perfect sense to set my tales in Newfoundland. I know this place so well. Of all the places I've been, there is no place more eerie, romantic, rugged, colourful, or beautiful than this province.

So I've decided that my current WIP should take place right here. But in order to really get the full flavour of the location, I have to say more than "They lived in Tiny Harbour, Newfoundland".

This is the fun part, describing the sights, sounds, and smells of an outport community. Jewel coloured houses scattered along the shore. The salty sting of the wind off the water. The cry of the gulls circling over the harbour. But more than this, the reader should know about all the little quirks and idiosyncrasies of the place. These details make the setting come alive.

As a reader, I want the author to take me away, make me feel like I'm in that place watching the story unfold. I've read stories, good ones, that have left the setting in the background, but the stories I remember are the ones that surround me with mountains, or streets, or fields. Lucy Maude Montgomery has transported generations of readers to Prince Edward Island. J. R. R. Tolkien did the same with his fictional Shire.

When it comes right down to it, i want my cowboy to ride off into a real sunset, not one of those painted backdrops.

 

Tell me about your favorite setting - the good ones you've read or the ones you like to write.

The Pits

It’s the 24th of May and we likes to get away
Up in the woods or going out the bay
There’s all kinds of places but the place we likes to get
Is up on the highway in the gravel pits
              - The Pits by Buddy Wasisname and the Other Fellas

It's the last day of the May 24th weekend. I know, it's not the 24th yet, but that day falls on a Wednesday, and you can't have a weekend in the middle of the week.

This is the weekend when everyone digs out the camp stoves, airs out the campers, and breaks out the Muskol. Some brave souls will get out the sleeping bags and tents and hope for no snow in the forecast. And all hands head for...the gravel pits?

It's a Newfoundland tradition. Spend a week getting the camper ready. Scrub it all out, air out the beds, wash all the bed clothes, stock up on groceries. When everything is finally ready, hit the open road and park in a gravel pit somewhere off the TCH (Trans-Canada Highway).

A friend of a friend of mine tells me that they take it easy all weekend, catch up with other gravel pit campers, friends they haven't seen all year. On Sunday they cook up a big scoff, a full jiggs dinner or pot of stew, and invite their gravel pit neighbours over for a bite and a few drinks. In the evenings they sit outside with a campfire and tell tall tales until the wee hours, or until the beer runs out. Then on Monday they pack it all up and head home.

And the gravel pit campers really take it seriously. Back in 2009 the provincial government made some noise about banning people from camping on crown land. The gravel pitters came out in force. They occupied the airways, they wrote letters to the editor. They did all but march on Confederation hill. And it worked. The government pulled in their horns and said they meant those people who stay there year round, not those fun loving weekend campers.

I really don't get it. Basically, you're doing what you would do at home, but without the luxuries. Can you imagine cooking up a big dinner on a teeny, tiny stove, with no dishwasher? Madness. You get up in the morning to the lovely view of gravel, sit around the pit for a bit of atmospheric fun. Nothing to break up the view but a few scraggly alders. I haven't even mentioned the cars zipping by on the highway just a few meters away.

We do our camping in tents, and when I camp I want to get away from it all, and have soft ground under me. No TV, no phone, no cars or gravel. I just want me and the wilderness. Even a site at the local provincial park is better than being surrounded by rock. Maybe it's all about the socialization, getting to know other gravel pitters. Still, there's got to be a better place for it. Maybe there are more scenic gravel pits. Some with mountains and streams and grass and butterflies and unicorns. I know I must be missing something.

Not that any of that mattered this weekend. While everyone else in the province was calling shotgun, I was at home, staining the deck. It's a big deck, and a lot of work. But don't feel too bad for me. All the family helped out; The youngest because she still loves to help, the boy because he was bribed, and the oldest because she was grounded. It took two days, but we got it done and, thanks to SPF 3000 sunscreen, no one got burned. The only colour I got was from the stain that splashed on my arms and legs and face. I'm a lovely shade of natural cedar.

This is my glamorous life. I know it isn't how most people envision their long weekend, but hey, at least I wasn't surrounded by gravel.

Word Riot

If I’d known then what I know now

I never would have begun

I thought that creating a story

Would be a lot of fun

It wouldn’t be very complicated

Or even very long

How was I to know that things

Would go so horribly wrong?

It started like this, it’s no lie

A comma jumped up and poked my I

Before I could blink, the letter T
Was tackled by an apostrophe

Questions marks, like little sharks

Zipped by without a pause
While a paragraph began to laugh
And showed its sharpened clause

The adverbs all left their places

And gathered together in herds

My sentence structure was horribly mangled

Infinitives split and participles dangled

I tell you the next time I decide to write

I’ll be sure to watch my words

iF Poems

I'm always looking for ways to enrich the lives of my children, to introduce them to things that will stimulate their intellectual growth. Anything to get them away from the blasted video games for a few minutes. It's hard for culture to compete with Mario.

I was thrilled to discover iF Poems, a poetry app designed with children (and parents) in mind. It is described as 'a poetry app for school-age children and adults of any age', and includes 270 classic poems.

Poems are separated into eleven categories specifically chosen with children in mind. These include Nature, Seasons & Animals, Lessons for Life, Growing Up, and Bedtime. One category, If You Need Help, lists poems that can assist in times of grief, sadness, and doubt. Poems are also grouped by age so you can find selections for ages 0-6, 7-2, and 13+.

You can browse the poems by author as well, and the author biographies are short, and sometimes kind of quirky, which helps to engage the kids.

Here are some of the key features of the app:

• You can search by title, author, first line or by any word
• You can tap on any word for a dictionary definition
• You can save poems to a favourites page
• You can compose and record your own poem
• You can email a poem, or your own recording

The collected poems are a wonderful mix that should appeal to all ages. Poets include Browning, Kipling, Shelley, Yeats, Shakespeare, Poe, Wordsworth, A. A. Milne, and even Tim Burton, among others.

Don't feel like reading? Then have the poems read to you. Certain selections have been recorded by such talent as Helena Bonham-Carter, Bill Nighy, and Tom Hiddleston (you might have better luck with your kids if you say Bellatrix Lastrange, Davey Jones, and Loki). There is a simple sort of delight in listening to Bill Nighy read Annabel Lee. Click below to hear Tom Hiddleston read If Music be the Food of Love from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night.

Tom Hiddleston - If Music Be The Food of Love by iF Poems


The highlight, at least for the kids, is the option to record your own reading of a poem. This reading can then be saved and emailed to a friend. There is also a section for creating your own poems. Original creations can be written, saved, recorded, and emailed.

One of my favourite parts of the app is the About Poetry section, which explains, with examples, different types and parts of poetry. You child can learn about couplets, prose poetry, haiku, and sonnets with the touch of a finger.

Overall, the app is a fantastic way to get children interested in poetry, and to share favourites that have been passed down for generations. It can be enjoyed by poetry lovers of all ages.

This app is available for iPad ($4.99) and iPhone ($2.99). 10% of sales goes to Save the Children.

Did I like this book?

I've never had this happen before. Usually when I read a book I can put it firmly in one category: liked or disliked. Sometimes it's 'liked with some reservations', or 'disliked with some exceptions'. This is the first time I have ever read a book (or series of books) and been unable to decide whether I liked it or not.

The books were recommended to me by two different people. Two people on two occasions. Met up with a friend a few weeks ago. She talked about books.
Said "Have you read Ken Bruen's Jack Taylor series?"
I hadn't.
Said "I haven't."
"You should."

Went out the next day and bought them. Read two in quick succession. Like a pint of Guinness with a Jameson chaser. They went down okay, but afterwards there was a thought that maybe it wasn't such a good idea.

This is pretty much how the books are written. It took me a few chapters to get used to the writing style. Since I'm a glass half full kind of girl, let's get the negatives out of the way first.

1. As I said, it took a bit to get used to the writing style. Bruen uses a lot of sentence fragments. A lot. It takes a bit of getting used to.
2. The repetition of certain lines, or ideas. Quite often, Jack is left speechless by some snappy comment. He tells us this with a line like "If there was an answer to this, I didn't have it." This was a minor annoyance.
3. Pop culture references. They are in abundance. At times they make sense and add to the story. Other times they feel tacked on, and have no purpose other than to add another pop culture reference to the story.
4. The plot is a bit thin, or at least under-developed. For a detective novel there is precious little detecting.
5. The novel leans heavily on noir clichés.

One other thing is the author's penchant for quoting other literary works. I didn't like it at first. Then, as the book went on, I found it gave good insight into what the main character (and the author) had read, and what inspires him. Fast forward two books, and it's irritating once again. So I haven't really decided. I think it may be a good device, but is overused in these books.

Yet, despite all this, I could not put the book down. There are three major reasons for this:

1. Snappy dialogue. The banter is witty and well written. One reader said that he had trouble with the vernacular. I didn't have a problem with this, and that may be because ours is similar, but it's something to keep in mind.
2. The setting. The novels are set in Galway, and the city becomes more than a place for the story. With good description and a taste of the culture and history, Galway is a supporting character. 
3. Jack Taylor. I have a love/hate relationship with Jack. He's self-destructive, abrasive, even incompetent. For some reason you can't help but get sucked into his downward spiral. One moment you detest him, the next you're rooting for him. It makes for interesting reading.

Right now I'm halfway through the third book, The Magdalen Martyrs. Story is good, pop culture references abound, Jack can't seem to keep it all together. I'm at turns annoyed and intrigued. Maybe this is the sign of a good book, or a flawed one with glimmers of brilliance. I haven't decided. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think I would enjoy these stories more as a movie or television series. The character and setting would stay intact without the intrusion of the devices used by the author.

What do you think? Have you read these books? Have an opinion? Have you read any book that left you undecided?

5 Days in May

I finished the April A to Z Challenge and fell off the map. There's a good reason for that. It's been a crazy week here Let me break it all down:

- 169 kids
- 5 days
- 8 shows
- 27 songs
- 76 safety pins
- 23 strips of black tape
- 8 pairs of black socks
- 2 extra t-shirts
- 5 missed meals
- 6 late nights
- 1 amazing experience

You can go here to understand what I'm talking about.

So I haven't been around much, and I apologize for not visiting. I promise I will make it up to you. Right after I get some sleep.


Psst: 5 Days in May is a great tune by Blue Rodeo.

Saying Good-bye

Shadow. May 4, 1994 - May 7, 2012

I know how Peter Pan felt when he lost his shadow. Today we lost ours.

He's been in the family longer than I have. Eighteen years is short for a person, but it's a long time for a cat. Shadow was tired, and sick, and we knew the time had come to say good-bye.

He was the tiniest member of our family, but he had a big personality. His loud demands to be fed and petted could not go unanswered. He terrorized the dog. His internal clock was better than any man-made time piece. He knew exactly when it was time to get up, time for bed, time to eat.

He'd lost a lot of weight over the past few months. Hello you bag of bones, I'd say. Meow, he'd answer. He always answered. He'd curl up in Hubby's lap each night. His favourite place.

Each of our kids has a special place for him. He would sit and listen to our youngest read, to our son play the piano. None of them has ever known a time without Shadow.

He followed me around the house between his naps, just content to be in someone's company. We'd come a long way from the first time we met and he peed on me.  

When Peter lost his shadow he sat on the floor and cried. We did too. Unlike Peter, we can't go back to find our Shadow, have him reattached to our lives. But we do have memories, eighteen years of all the funny, sweet, annoying things he did.

That will do.