Category: Program News

Book Chat: Sally Ito

Emperors Orphans cover

By barb janes

Japan, Japan / If I say it enough \ Will it come true?

Only a secure writer opens her reading with words from another writer as Sally Ito did with the above poem by David Fujino. In 11 short words, Fujino’s poem evokes the deep longing for culture and identity that spurred Sally Ito to write The Emperor’s Orphans, a cultural memoir about her family.

Facilitated by MWG’s Susan Rocan, this Zoom book chat was an intimate gathering that made space for both presentation and conversation.

 As Ito explained, The Emperor’s Orphans (Turnstone Press, 2018) is told in three voices: the oral tradition via her great-aunt Kay, the written memoir in the Japanese language of her maternal grandfather, and Ito’s own voice, holding the other two together. Reading from the section of the memoir about her own identity formation growing up, Ito’s high school memories were relatable for those of us who felt they never fit in.

At Salsbury High School in suburban Edmonton, Ito was one of a few Asians in a very White space. The predictable name-calling, cat-calls and claims by friends that there was a “fish smell” in Ito’s home (despite the fact fish was a rare dinner) were estranging, as was going to a school dance with some excitement only to be a wallflower because no one asked her to dance.

Friendships blossomed for Ito at the Friday night Japanese language class, where four teen girls were sent by their parents. While the four girls with their Farrah Fawcett hair-dos complained about having to learn Japanese, they also grew in verbal fluency with the language. Reading Japanese kanji (pictograms), of which there are some 3,000, was a bigger challenge. Ito noticed the curriculum followed at these Friday night classes was from Japan, and she found herself longing for the history of her people in Canada – reinforcing her feelings of being an odd duck in the pond.

Identity, Ito maintains, is forged by words. One Zoom participant noted while The Emperor’s Orphans sometimes uses Japanese words, there is no glossary. Ito explained she wants to write with foreign (non-English) words so that the meaning is inferred, and continuity is not sacrificed. Ito is committed to telling the stories of the injustices endured by Japanese-Canadians, the suffering it caused, the family stresses and break-ups, and generational trauma.

Now, as she acknowledges her own aging, Ito is determined to keep those stories alive. The Emperor’s Orphans tells the story of one family member, who took up the Canadian government’s post-war offer to Japanese-Canadians to go back to Japan (that, or settle east of the Rockies). Having endured enough racism and injustice, the return to Japan felt a wise choice. Read the book to see if it was. Ito is now thinking it’s time to tell the story of the other side of her family, those who stayed, and what they faced.

For those whose writing involves translation, Ito recommends AI as a useful tool. In her fiction writing process, Ito describes becoming possessed by a narrative voice. She admits she doesn’t always know what the story will be about or where it will take her, but is powered by the curiosity to keep listening to that voice and engaging it in conversation.

Thinking of joining a MWG Book Chat? Fair warning: you will want to read more, and write more. Which is kind of the idea, no?

Write in Front of Me

Trevor Martens

By Lynda Faye Schmidt

In my role as reporter for The Guild, I had the privilege of attending Trevor Martens’ workshop, The Story Within: A Journey to Personal Storytelling. To prepare for the event, I’d checked out Trevor’s website, I help you write things. His slogan, “Transforming self-doubt into confidence through a supportive and transformative learning experience,” felt like an invitation. The vibe of his offering landed on my authenticity radar as the real deal. On the afternoon of the event, I arrived full of cautious anticipation, that this might be the kind of writing community opportunity my heart yearns for.

The fourth to arrive, I was received into the fold with a warm welcome. The conversation slipped naturally into a comfortable rhythm. Trevor walked in soon after. When he smiled and made eye contact during introductions, it confirmed what my foray onto his website had suggested—his intention to encourage writers is genuine. The last participant arrived soon after and the journey to the story within began.

Four-minute quick write: an emotionally valuable gift.

As soon as my pen touched the paper, it was clear; I was rusty, dusty, and out of flow. My skillset for writing spontaneously from a prompt had lain dormant for almost a year. I felt the inner critic crouched and ready to pounce.

Four minutes. Snap. Where did that time go? Heart palpitating, it was time to share. Snippets of four women’s lives electrified the air with a palpable pulse. I was present and engaged, struck at their willingness to be open, honest, and vulnerable. Blown away by the raw creativity and insights that were unfolding—write in front of me.

Then it was my turn to share. I took a deep breath and allowed my insecurity to wash out of me. I tapped into the safe space I was cocooned in. With each word I spoke, my inner critic whispered disparaging insults, but I pushed through. When I read a phrase that induced the group to laughter, the whispering softened. The specific and positive feedback from everyone was so powerful, the inner critic vanished into thin air, just like that.

The next activity was an in-depth discussion of the writing focus homework that workshop participants had completed from the week before. As part of exploring unconscious themes, they’d written responses to the prompt, “a phone call I remember vividly.”

“…but with those words, those damn words, we not only felt her pain, but we felt her shame too.” – The Girls Weekend at the Lake

“This is momentary… this is momentary,” I chant to the urgent rhythm of my rocking.” – In This Moment

“It was not an unusual occurrence.” – Unusual & Unexpected

“O…kaaaaay.” – Mothers & Daughters

All of the writers at the workshop were at different stages in the journey. Yet in the space that Trevor created for us, we shone. The positive, strength-based feedback generated an enthusiasm and willingness to be vulnerable that is rare and was beautiful to witness. I left feeling lighter, and knowing, I’m stepping in the write direction.

I’m grateful to Trevor for his offering. I’m thankful to the participants who shared their creativity. I believe the Guild’s support of workshops like these is a huge gift for members who are looking for opportunities to hone their craft, and I hope they continue to do so. Regardless, I know I’ll be signing up for more of the amazing services Trevor offers. I encourage my fellow members to explore options that resonate with them by checking out Trevor’s I help you write things website.

Book Chat with Katherine Bitney

Firewalk cover

by Steve Oetting

On Sept. 11, Katherine Bitney, one of the founders of the Manitoba Writers’ Guild and Prairie Fire Magazine, provided us with an engaging book chat. She noted that it was many years ago when they started the Guild and an extremely exciting time, a virtual “explosion of literature in our province.” She felt they had virtually no idea what they were doing and mostly “flew by the seat of their pants.” I suspect they had some concepts about what they were doing, which are clearly evident as the Guild and Prairie Fire are both flourishing some 45 years later.

Ms. Bitney’s most recent publication of poetry is called Firewalk. Listing them in reverse chronological order, her books of poetry include Singing Bones, Heart and Stone, While You Were Out, and her only non-poetry publication, The Boreal Dragon, a book about living on the land, something she says she tends to write about.

Her introduction took only a few minutes but it caused me to do considerable research due to the immense amount of the information she put forward. Firewalk contains poems that she started a few years ago but was shoved aside when her husband passed away, and which she only recently decided to revisit. It is based on a volva, which means “staff or wand carrier” in the Norse Pre-Christian religious folklore going back as far as the first century AD.

A volva is considered to be a type of witch or seeress who practiced a shamanic and prophetic priestesshood where the priestess would “sit out and commune with spirits or elements” in her environment. They were highly respected members of Norse society, known for their contributions to important decision-making in Viking communities on matters such as war, childbirth, and harvest. Their prophetic abilities were believed to come from their connection to the spirit world, where they communicated with the gods and other supernatural beings. The role of volvas in Norse society highlights the importance of women in Viking culture, as they held positions of power and influence that were highly respected.

Ms. Bitney followed her introduction with the reading of several poems from Firewalk. Following the readings some inquiries precipitated a lively discussion. “Would you see yourself as a naturalist?” to which she replied “In a sense yes. Not in the sense of science but in the sense that it totally absorbs me and my language.”

She was then asked, “What are your views on climate change? What is your hope?” to which she replied, “The world has gone through five major extinctions. My hope is that we don’t tip ourselves right over and it scares me. But nature is resilient and hopefully it will recover. It is all about greed, we need to see that we are part of nature and not the controller of nature. It is our job to help the Earth heal itself but it is difficult because we have this idea we own it. It is not here just for us, we are just another creature, but an animal that can do better than we have for the Earth. It is for all of us to be cognizant that we are just another creature and not something special.”

“When you talk about your shamanic journeys, how do you prepare yourself?”

“At one time, we had a person teaching us and I suddenly found myself in rock, so before you go into something like that you need to have some protection, like a guide. In this instance it was funny because I found myself embedded in this rock and didn’t know how to get out. My partner could see part of me in the rock and finally I pulled myself out. It can get dangerous so you have to be very careful dealing with spiritual journeys.”

“Do you drum and chant as preparations?”

“Yes, but sometimes we will just drum or just chant, or sometimes we sing. Sometimes others drum or chant for you to have your journey. The drum is the most useful.”

And finally, she was asked about her role in establishing the Guild, “What drove you at the time to establish the Guild so long ago?”

“It was not just me, it was a bunch of us including my husband. At that time Saskatchewan had a really good Guild going and we felt Manitoba could use a similar service. It took a long time to get it all going and somewhere there should be pictures of Aubigny (1981). Victor Enns came to my house and said, ‘Let’s get this going,’ so everyone came out to Aubigny and we inaugurated the Guild. Present were Robert (Kroetsch), Dennis (Cooley), David (Arnason), Armin Wiebe, Sandra (Birdsell), Victor (Enns), and some people from SK came to give us some ideas and to support us. We had music and discussions, it was beside the river with so many mosquitoes but it was so much fun. We started arranging services and endorsements, soon after we started Prairie Fire so we could publish works by our members which attracted people for workshops and meetings. It just went kaboom, it expanded so quickly. It was like an explosion of writing, a very exciting time.”

My Last Evening as a Critique Circle Moderator

sharon hamilton

By Sharon Hamilton

One of the many privileges I have enjoyed in the Manitoba Writers’ Guild has been to co-moderate our “Final-Wednesday-in-the-Month Critique Circle.” Time, however, is the new gold, and my resources of time do not allow for the kind of preparation our critique circle participants warrant, such as carefully reading the pre-submitted manuscripts and planning a supportive, constructive critique of each one. Fortunately, the Guild is blessed with many leaders and volunteers, and one of them, Keenon Rhodes is – well – keen — and willing and certainly most able to replace me and join Tami Reynolds to co-moderate this group of talented and committed writers.

Consequently, my last evening afforded me the pure joy of listening to our participants read their stories and receive and provide feedback to each other for almost two hours.

Hearing the writer’s voice while they are reading their own prose provides a depth of insight into character, plot, and setting that is more directly intense than silently reading somebody else’s words. Oral reading and silent reading elicit different emotions and levels of understandings. As recipients of the written or spoken word, we build a version of the world that the writer has already created. Well-crafted, the written word can guide the emotional responses to this world. Well-crafted and revealed through the writer’s voice, this world is coloured with even more texture and deeper hues.

So it was last evening, when we were taken into a contemporary world of mothers of teenage girls fleeing a country where rape was increasing, abortion forbidden by law, and females terrified of their uncertain future. From there, we were lured into a fantasy world of nightmarish survival, which exposed the decisions journalists need to make on behalf of their readers while retaining some element of truth. From there, we met two young people needing to escape their vulnerable world for a life more stable and predictable. They chose education as their means, and this chapter focused on the female protagonist taking a key exam to win a scholarship to a distant university. The writer effectively situated us in the pressure-filled exam room through both craft and orality. And finally, almost to relieve the stress of these three emotionally packed stories, we comfortably revisited the more innocent stresses of youth, able to smile at the tension of the young girl, fearful of an approaching comet, attempting to dig herself and her family into safety.

Each of these narratives packed a particular punch and generated a range of feedback. Some of the feedback was technical, such as a recommendation to change the parts typed in italics to a different font instead, because it would be easier to read. Some was emotional, such as a comment that, while the world of the story was “obviously dystopian,” it was “disturbingly realistic,” and, for a different story, “I wanted it to get scary more quickly – maybe through foreshadowing?” One comment explained how to intensify the horror of a machete held against the neck, “Those who use machetes to control people lay the part of the blade closest to the handle against the neck, so you can imagine the full sweep of the blade across your neck.” Some of the comments suggested that the writer “think bigger” by setting the immediate goal of the protagonist within a goal or context of more universal significance for the story.

I’ve always been fascinated by how receptive critique circle participants are to the feedback they receive. Writers are in charge of all decisions about their stories. Occasionally, although rarely and not at all this last evening, there is some pushback in the form of a brief discussion; sometimes there is a neutral or reflective acknowledgement of the advice; often there is an appreciative – “I hadn’t thought of that; thank you” response. And sometimes, the writers make the change or start to follow the suggestion right on the spot.

Serious issues occasionally emerge. Last evening, three thought-provoking discussions caught my attention. The first involved the notion of tension – and the concept that without conflict there is no story. One participant noted that “the idea that ‘conflict is key’ is often overplayed,” and went on to praise the writer for her realistic control of conflict. I’ve spent some time thinking about that today.

Another discussion occurred over trigger alerts and content warnings. One participant stated there should be a content warning for the chapter highlighting teenage and pre-teenage rape and abortion. When advised that a content warning at the level of moderate had accompanied the original sending of the manuscript, the participant asserted it should have been flagged at the level of “red hot; not moderate.” The writer seemed surprised but accepted that designation after brief consideration. I thought of the different paths this conversation could have taken and am still reflecting on it.

And finally, a silent issue – the last paragraph of a short story, too far into the story to have been read aloud and discussed during the allotted time, but nonetheless an issue worthy of discussion. With permission of the author, plus her request to clarify that “when referring to my story it’s best to point out it’s based off of an existing fictional mythos that’s been in the public domain for a long time (which itself is a combination of dark fantasy, sci-fi, and horror), and is basically a new take on an old tale.” In this current era of uncertain journalistic approaches to “truth,” how can one determine what is (if there ever is) “the truth.”

“And so I have come to a decision. I shall publish XXXXX’s account, with only a few non-offensive comments from YYYYY and ZZZZZ’s accounts. It is the duty of a journalist to be objective and report the truth, after all. Her story is the least offensive and the most palpable and must be the only one the public will ever truly trust. At the same time, I cannot forget all that I have learned. I cannot bring myself to destroy everything else I have found and worked for. Once I send in the final article, I shall take my notes and recordings and lock them up in a safety deposit box at the bank. Should the public ever reach a point where they are ready to hear the full truth, or once all parties are long deceased, perhaps then they shall be released.”

“Until then, let them have a softer truth. Let them live in a world where the sun will shine forever. And I must live with the truth, as must they all.”

One day, I hope we have 25 critique circles, each full of writers like these, who make each other think as they create worlds to explore.

I thank Andy Dutfield for asking me to serve as a moderator, Tami Reynolds, who served as my co-moderator, and Keenon Rhodes, who is replacing me. You have given me indelible and irreplaceable experiences.

April Poetry Critique Circle

pink tulips

By Stacey Lupky

What struck me the most from this Poetry Critique Circle was the strong sense of support and community the group naturally shared with each other. Each of the participants sharing their poetry held space for each other to be vulnerable in their readings and concise in their feedback.

Our host for the April 24 event was Jake Reichart, who facilitated the two-hour Zoom meeting with thoughtfulness and helpful advice. Poem themes ranged from a love/hate relationship with Winnipeg, to erosion and the fences that hold it in check, to death and subsequent loss. All were read aloud with heartfelt voices by their poets.

I was delighted by discussions focusing on the critiques and learned so much just by listening. Tightening lines and axing erroneous words came up. Poets who wrote verse were asked to consider prose poetry as a form instead because when read aloud, the poem seemed to suit it better. Being concise was mentioned more than once where stanzas might be combined, or poems with multiple ideas strengthened by focusing on one idea and expanded. The group talked through an idea that if you remove a word, would the poem still say the same thing or have the same feeling? In addition, singular words packed a punch and removing gerunds made a poem tighter.

A lively discussion ensued about using words in poems that the reader may not understand or relate to. Should a word resonate with the reader instead of being explained cognitively? For example, a poem contained the word gabion and the poet did not go into detail over the meaning of that word as she assumed, having spent plenty of time at the lake, that people would know exactly what she meant. In another instance, the intercultural side of language was raised. Multilingual poets who use words and idioms with different meanings — do you stop and explain, or do you let the reader come up with their own interpretation? How much clarity is too much clarity?

On more than one instance in the evening, laughs were had over choosing titles for poems. A lot of times the title was the last thought after the poem was written, or in one case, the last line of the poem. Opinions went back and forth about whether a title was good or not.

This group knows each other well and readily commented on the wonderful growth of each other’s work. I felt encouraged just hearing them lift each other up in this way. Genuine compliments on beautiful prose, simple yet repetitive language, good transitions, lyrical forms and honestly were all applauded.

Constructive and empathetic critique is a fundamental need for fledging writers. This critique group has it. Next time I show up, I’m bringing a poem with me, despite never reading my poetry aloud to a single soul. I encourage you to join next time yourself and feel as welcomed as I did.

Den Valdron on AI and Writing

human brain

By Steve Oetting

The topic of plagiarism reared its ugly face during one of our recent Rants and Ramblings sessions. A participant described how a book she had submitted to Amazon had been duplicated word for word and was selling right alongside of hers. Some additional discussion revealed that this was becoming a common problem and it appeared this duplication was not performed by a person but rather by a system, perhaps an AI (Artificial Intelligence) program specifically designed to find books on Amazon, duplicate them in just the right manner that the plagiarism would not be immediately detected, and then list them for sale.

At that time, Susan Rocan, our moderator for the evening, revealed that the Guild had already been discussing AI as a threat to legitimate writers and that they were hopeful they might arrange a presentation by Den Valdron, a lawyer, a prolific writer and a lecturer on AI issues. That presentation occurred on March 9 at ArtSpace.

Mr. Valdron presented himself as a man that speaks his mind. He opened his presentation with an apology that he could be “mean” and that he would likely disclose things our group would not enjoy hearing. There was no doubt that Mr. Valdron was there to deliver what he believed to be the truth about AI as clearly and boldly as possible. For this participant it was refreshing to hear from a speaker that was not understating the seriousness of an issue just to appease his audience.

Mr. Valdron began his lecture by saying that AI was in fact not intelligent and not sentient. It is simply a mechanism that collects data, a process commonly called “scraping”, and then sorts and averages out that data to produce output. It repeats this operation endlessly attempting to achieve an output that fits a particular problem.

At the time of the lecture Mr. Valdron felt that AI programs were crude and unreliable. In many cases, AI programs will produce what are called “hallucinations”, results that are completely invalid and sometimes problematic. As an example he offered, “Imagine you download a document about edible mushrooms that was produced by AI that inadvertently includes a few deadly varieties. Using that document as a guide could literally kill you.” AI programs are also subject to biases. For example if you asked an AI program to define whether a man or a woman would make a better CEO, the program might be biased toward men based on scraping historical data that included more examples of men as CEOs than women.

Although AI may not be intelligent and may not be able (yet, at least) to replicate the styles and creative thought of human writers, its deadly power resides in its ability to perform these tasks repeatedly at incredible speed and for almost no cost. A capable human writer might produce a far better story than AI, but whereas the human writer might expend dozens or even hundreds of hours to do so, an AI program could produce a thousand versions of that same story in seconds, and one or two of those might be reasonably comparable to the human version. In today’s world where price so often rules over craftsmanship, this can result in an environment of unreasonable competition for writers.

The good news is that AI productions cannot currently be copyrighted, and copyrights can protect legitimate writings from duplication and even scraping. The bad news is that it is expensive and difficult to prove AI duplication of copyrighted materials, so even when legitimate writers encounter these violations of their work there is often little they can do about it. To make this even worse, style cannot be copyrighted so that AI programs that do not exactly duplicate a person’s writing or perhaps a musician’s song outright, they can duplicate the style without any legal ramifications and produce surprisingly similar products.

Today AI is branching into virtually every element of human life. Photographs of Donald Trump standing alongside Afro-American folks that are AI inserted, AI generated pictures of Taylor Swift engaged in pornographic situations, and AI replications of famous paintings are proliferating across the Internet with virtually no oversight or acknowledgement of their lack of authenticity. Coming a bit closer to home, the question was raised as to how long will it be before writing contests, such as are sponsored by the Manitoba Writers’ Guild, will be inundated by AI-generated writings.

The issue is complex and serious, and as the technology evolves the threat to creative workmanship, whether it be in literature, music or art, will only increase. Mr. Valdron’s best advice was for folks to be watchful and speak out loudly when they see AI violations. We need to encourage lawmakers to recognize AI for the threat that it is and to provide legal recourse for victims that is effective and affordable.

In wrapping up, Mr. Valdron provided some conclusions that were simultaneously optimistic and disheartening. At the moment it is not difficult to delineate between AI writing and human writing, so there is a window for all of us in which we can continue to feel safe with our craft. For his personal purposes, he is looking to the next five years in which he hopes to complete another twenty books, many of which are already in development. Beyond that, the future of creative writing in the face of AI is anyone’s guess.

Poets Honored at Inaugural Rabindranath Tagore Competition

kamal maliker

By Andrew Dutfield

Award nominees, family, friends and Guild members gathered at the ArtSpace Building in Winnipeg and online June 6 to celebrate the inaugural award night of the Manitoba Writers’ Guild Rabindranath Tagore Poetry Competition.

The competition has a special emphasis on the intersections of multiple cultural heritages in verse.

After a short address, emcee and Guild President Sharon Hamilton handed the podium over to Kamal Malaker, the competition’s sponsor for the first five years. Kamal presented the Guild with a portrait of Rabindranath Tagore painted by local artist Sudip Naskar. He explained why he supports the arts and asked for the competition to carry the name of one of the world’s great poets.

Rabindranath Tagore was awarded the 1913 Nobel prize for literature for his book of poems, Gitanjali, or Offerings of Song, which was translated by Irish poet, playwright and Nobel Laureate William Butler Yeats. Tagore was the first non-European to be awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature.

He was prolific in many forms of human expression, from poetry, philosophy, novels, and short stories to plays, music, and painting. He was also respected as a teacher and a visionary logistician as well as for his political wisdom and curiosity in the sciences.

Lise Gaboury-Diallo, chair of the judging panel, talked about the entries, their quality, and their diversity of subject matter. Each of the honorary mentions and award winners read their work, some for the first time in front of an audience.

Winners

First Place (tie):

Nankafu Gisèle for “Symphonie de Survive”
Danie Botha for “Immigrant”

Second Place:

Jaya Brata Bose for “Green Windows”

Third Place:

Hazel Aduna for “Mother Tongue”

Honorable Mentions

  • Vindra Jain for “Diaspora”
  • Sarah Mercer for “Being Born”
  • Jennifer Tesoro for “A Grand Mother”

Many thanks to judges Samir Georges, Lise Gaboury-Diallo, Zulfqar Hyder, Sally Ito, Paul Morris, Yelani Peiris, Sandy Pool, and David Williamson. Special thanks to Nathalie Kaboha, David Williamson and Sharon for planning and coordinating the event and to other Guild members for volunteering on the day. Additional thanks to Kamal Malaker for supporting the event for the first five years and to his brother, Parimal Malaker, for sponsoring the medals, scarves, and mementos presented to the winners. And finally, a heartfelt thank you to all the wonderful poets who submitted entries.

Alison M. York – A Serendipitous Book Launch

Alison York

By Stacey Lupky

Warm, inviting energy greeted the standing-room-only crowd gathered for the book launch of Alison York’s novel, Tartan Threads: Serendipity In Scotland. Throughout the event, hosted by the Manitoba Writer’s Guild, of which Alison is a member, Scotland played a welcoming role in bringing the crowd together. Scottish-themed dainties such as shortbread, scones and jam were on offer, while Scottish music gently lilted in the background. At the front of the room at Artspace, the Scottish flag draped over a table filled with memorabilia from ancestors whose lives played a pivotal role in the shaping of the novel.

MWG volunteer Jessica Smithies welcomed all with the land acknowledgement and housekeeping. Our attention was then drawn to Aiden, a videographer, who captured the event for posterity online. We were introduced to Alison’s husband, Roger York, who was an immense help to her writing and with his Toastmaster-trained voice, provided a reading from the novel.

Among the many thanks in Alison’s opening speech, she spoke of the close relationship she developed with her editor, Jenny Gates. Jenny spoke to the attendees briefly and brought up the important point of the trust relationship between an author and their editor. Authors must be open to suggestions and they must be courageous enough to take a germ of an idea and develop it.

Admitting she is a “pantser,” meaning she doesn’t strictly follow an outline, Alison said the story was borne out of a grade seven English Language Arts class assignment. Her student needed encouragement, so Allison wrote a short story alongside him. Gradually expanding her story into a novel, she wanted to see her book in print. Allison was told the market was swamped with new writers seeking publication, and that the process would take two years or more. Being eight years in since she began, the author decided to publish independently.

Alison’s reading introduced us to the character of Clare Wood, a young woman in 1978, who decides she “needs to go somewhere and some place that stretches her as a person”. That place is the Highlands of Scotland and Alison’s sense of humour and wit shine through the dialogue between Clare and her mother as Clare decides she needs to learn more about her extended family.

Roger York then took the podium and delivered a lively reading as the character Jim Bernie, complete with Scottish brogue. The novel involves aspects of time travel via a special geode, and in one of the readings, Jim considers an offer from his distant cousin to immigrate to America. The dialogue is sensitive and dramatic, conveying tender emotions.

There were few questions for Alison York in the Q & A portion, but someone did ask about the framed black and white photo of a gentleman on the display table. This was Alison’s great, great grandfather on her maternal side. The family is from the Isle of Lewis and while there are no real-life resemblances to the family in her fictional novel, some of the family names were used. The memorabilia on the table also featured a photo of her grandparents in the early 20th century gathered for a photo of the Gaelic Society of Winnipeg.

Another question came from someone asking about an inevitable sequel. Alison, a fan of MWG critique circles, said the novel originated from two separate stories that were combined into one on advice from the critique group. She is already hard at work on the next part of the saga. We may just see her again next year for that sequel launch!

The afternoon capped off with a prize being rewarded to people who had green tape on their chairs which led everyone scrambling to see if they had the lucky chair. Attendees who did were gifted a pin.

It was a marvelous launch which showcased the community of beta readers and editors, as well as family and friends it takes to commit oneself to the craft of writing. Attendees lingered to chat and meet the author who graciously signed copies of her book. How serendipitous that my first attendance of a book launch would be such an overwhelming delight.

Hungering

Spenser Smith book launch

By barb janes

This is the last time, I promise. Maybe you’ve heard those words, heard them with hope, heard them with cynicism. Maybe you’ve spoken those words aloud, or in your head full of self-recrimination, meaning it, knowing you are lying. These prose words spoken and heard by many, were turned into poetry by Spenser Smith.

A glorious spring afternoon found twenty-some folks gathered in Art Space in Winnipeg’s Exchange to listen to well-chosen words at a poetry reading featuring Spenser Smith’s A Brief Relief From Hunger, ably supported by two other poets, Sarah Ens and Hannah Green.

The event opened with the thoughtful and thought-provoking Manitoba Writers Guild land acknowledgement, a content warning, and the offer of quiet space outside the room for those who might need it, and the commitment that someone would check on you if you were that person in need. I appreciate the care on offer.

Sarah Ens opened with “The Sacredness of Sleepovers,” producing some giggles and fond memories at her mention of “candy-fuzzed tongues.” Another offering, “Orbit,” captured adolescent angst and wisdom with the phrase “we diagnosed each other astrologically.” A third poem, from Flyway, explored the complexity of Ens’ heritage: “the fleeing, farming Mennonites” who escaped one Empire only to participate in the colonization of this country.

Spenser Smith book launch
Spenser Smith book launch

Imagine watching the same horror movie every night, was Hannah Green’s hook of an opener from her collection, Xanax Cowboy. With edgy energy, Hannah’s readings provided an appetizer for Spenser’s addiction-themed poems. Who but one who knows This is the last time, I promise could acknowledge “my ribs stick our like rows of excuses”? And wisely reading a room full of readers, Hannah read, “I think about becoming a Heather O’Neil character.” 

Two themes spiralled through Spenser Smith’s offerings: toxic masculinity and addiction. “‘Men’ is both a single word and a thousand cultures,” he states in “Hundreds of Men: A Case Study.” Several poems in A Brief Relief are assembled from Facebook comments: “Crime rate is dropping like junkies. Love it” and “ban the [naloxone] kits let mother nature take its course”. Another poem in the collection, “Comment Section” repeats the word “comment” in a long, overwhelming column, ensuring we know the source of those cruel comments. Reflecting on those who offer unconditional love, “Daydreaming” offers: “Some of us have grandmas who drop ice cubes in our soup. Some of us live with burned tongues….Let me be a man who cools to that which is too hot to slurp.” 

“Write about what matters most,” was Spenser’s response during the Q&A. The Manitoba Writers Guild launch events expose us to what matters most, not only in the offerings of featured writers, but in the care the Guild uses to shape these events. While the content of the poems at this event was provocative and daring, all three poets were young and White – and, as far as I could tell, the audience, while of various ages, was entirely White. I look forward to the day when a more diverse mix of writers and a more diverse audience is found at Guild events.

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