By Lynda Schmidt
I was excited to attend the Manitoba Writer’s Guild first Open Mic afternoon with fellow Guild reporters Steve, Amanda, Luke, Stacy and Heather. After enduring what felt like an indomitable cold snap of extreme weather warnings, the balmy plus three seemed to add momentum to the spirit of enthusiasm I sensed when we arrived at Artspace.
Andy Dutfield greeted us with a friendly smile and as we rode the rickety old elevator to the fourth floor. Event host Jessica Smithies welcomed us at the Artspace Boardroom door, encouraging us to enter our names to present, sign the guest book, and help ourselves to refreshments.
There were about 20 people in attendance, and shortly after 4 p.m., Jessica called everyone to attention and gave the opening remarks and acknowledgements. She shared the Guild’s mission statement, to support emerging and established writers to express their creativity, and requested that presenters disclose sensitive content warnings when applicable.
Steve was the first to share, with his poems “Abandoned” and “Missing.” Before reading them, he commented on the seeming contradiction, that he was a positive person sharing depressing content. After listening to Steve’s artfully chosen words that described life tribulations most people can relate to, I had to disagree. “Blood-red lines like the tracks on her skin; yearning, churning, stomachs turning.” Yes, his poetry expressed difficult themes, but he evoked strong, appropriate responses that had me feeling emotionally engaged.
The second presenter, Squigs, shared a collection of three very different poems. “Creature” was about lust, “kissing in the violence of a whisper.” “Weight” was heavy. “You eat the pain… bones coax disease.” The line that stuck with me from the last selection, titled “Novelist” was, “I’m the king of every country I’ve not lived in.” Each piece was thoughtfully composed and the words left imprints that lingered.
Matt took us back in time in his creative nonfiction piece, the first part told from the perspective of his 5-year-old self and the second part fast-forwarded 40 years. He captured the language and point of view of a child and had me in suspense during a near-drowning scene. When he spoke of his return in adulthood to the lake where it happened, and how it had been in the same location as a residential school, I felt shattered as I endured “the silence of shared shame.”
It was inspirational to have Henry get behind the mic for his first time in his 83 years as a writer. With a history as an English teacher, actor, director and playwright, he unfolded faded, yellowed foolscap and read snippets of his musings from back in the day, including “speech after a long silence.” I loved his line about giving his all to his wife, his children, the cast of actors and the ballerina. If only everyone felt able to give their all.
Quidam took us for a spin in an entirely different direction with his robust personification of media influence on the masses. He opened with a memorized piece from Frank Zappa that had my stomach in somersaults, then donned a plastic TV-box-helmet to present his own thoughts on the dangers of agendas supporting materialism and mass unconsciousness. He was funny and engaging, and when he broke into song, I couldn’t help but laugh along.
The short creative nonfiction piece presented by Amanda, titled “Longing and Waiting,” seemed to resonate with everyone gathered. It was an open, honest and vulnerable portrayal of the path of unpublished writers who yearn for readers to devour their words. Elevated, but not stuffy, Amanda took us inside her head, sharing thoughts similar to ones I’ve had. My favourite was, “I shouldn’t have included that line about the dead flies.” The anguish of rejection letters.
Last, but certainly not least, was Tessa’s short story about a day in her life here in Winnipeg. That very same day, to be exact. I was blown away by her boldness of living, composing, and presenting over the course of a few hours. Her descriptions were spot-on, her observations keen. I’m sure every local nodded their heads as she read about Sunday brunch at Salisbury House.
The presentations finished early, and Jessica took the opportunity to announce an icebreaker, asking each of us to throw ourselves out of our comfort zone and say hello to someone we didn’t know. I asked the presenters to gather for a photo for this article to commemorate a job well done and a successful first-ever Open Mic. Apparently the Guild is working on a second Open Mic already, with plans to host at The Little Brown Jug at the end of April or May.
If you’ve read this far, you’re well aware of the diverse talent that exists here in our Guild writing community. After mingling with a few friends and some new faces too, I left feeling a lightness and joy in my soul for the gift of what I’d witnessed. You can be sure I will be in attendance at the next Open Mic. I might even encourage myself to share a piece of writing from my heart. Whether you’re or a member already or just contemplating, I encourage you to browse the Guild’s website and discover what’s available.
