January 2010


After a recent incident with a broken/leaking hot water boiler in my furnace room, I took it upon myself to start tidying up the downstairs of my house. The reason for this is threefold:

  1. I’d been concerned about water damage around the furnace room area of the basement and gutted a couple of the rooms to make way for inspection by myself and a contractor to ensure no serious setbacks;
  2. the place hasn’t been used much in the last year or so and, as such, has been accumulating clutter and various junk items that need to be removed if I’m ever to have people over in the future; and
  3. I’ve been crying out for a place where I can go, free of dogs and cats, noises and distractions of all kinds where I can write in what I imagine to be a more effective and productive environment.
Reading/writing/napping area.

This started me thinking about the type of writing environment I would prefer in contrast to what I currently have. In the past I’ve written in a variety of settings (library, school, behind a cashier’s desk, living room, den, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, campsite, etc.), but most often I find myself in the upstairs den with a cup of tea on the desk and books all around me. Of course, I’m not giving up the tea (that would be crazy talk) or my proximity to the books I love and often use as a source of inspiration, but I’m willing to try an area where I can feel more relaxed and indulge those writer-hermit tendencies.

The “break” room.

The space I’m looking at takes up 80% of the bottom floor of the house and, in particular, one part of the larger rec room: it’s wide open, has a chesterfield-love seat combo, a bathroom, a bar (indeed!), and comfortable carpeting everywhere except in the bar. With this layout it’s quite possible I can survive down there for days without ever having to leave, much to my wife’s chagrin. Ideally, I will feel particularly at home in this space where there is room for naps, instruments for a distracting musical interlude (I did recently acquire a banjo), and plenty of reading/writing. I’ll also need a place to store important reference material and other quick-access items that’ll come in handy. It’s all still a work in progress, however, but one I’m excited about.

A personal place to write is essential to authors off all genres and styles. It’s quite an engaging topic and one others have taken interest in over the years (I think of Hemingway who would get up at stupid o’clock in the morning and stand at a podium for a couple of hours while he sought that one good page in a hundred). There’s a great blog out there, called Desk Space, that uses creative areas as a starting point for writerly discussion/interview. If you haven’t seen it before it’s worth the click. There are some great authors that lend you a look into their smaller world if you have a chance to check it out.

So it’s that day again when fans of the Scottish bard come together to celebrate his date of birth, but also his verse and legacy. I’ve been scanning a couple of Burns’ poems today as part of my own personal celebration of the man and his work. There are many to love, but at this particular moment, looking at the white coat of winter as the sun sinks below the ground line, this one stands out most for me (courtesy of RPO):

A Winter Night

When biting Boreas, fell and doure,
Sharp shivers thro’ the leafless bow’r;
When Phœbus gies a short-liv’d glow’r,
        Far south the lift,
Dim-dark’ning thro’ the flaky show’r,
        Or whirling drift:

Ae night the storm the steeples rocked,
Poor Labour sweet in sleep was locked,
While burns, wi’ snawy wreeths upchoked,
        Wild-eddying swirl,
Or thro’ the mining outlet bocked,
        Down headlong hurl.

List’ning, the doors an’ winnocks rattle,
I thought me on the ourie cattle,
Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattle
        O’ winter war,
And thro’ the drift, deep-lairing, sprattle,
        Beneath a scar.

Ilk happing bird, wee, helpless thing!
That, in the merry months o’ spring,
Delighted me to hear thee sing,
        What comes o’ thee?
Whare wilt thou cow’r thy chittering wing
        An’ close thy e’e?

Ev’n you on murd’ring errands toil’d,
Lone from your savage homes exil’d,
The blood-stain’d roost, and sheep-cote spoil’d
        My heart forgets,
While pityless the tempest wild
        Sore on you beats.

Now, I believe I’ll curl up with my volume of Robbie Burns accompanied by a glass of my favourite scotch.

Never More There has been reviewed briefly in the Winnipeg Free Press this week. Ariel Gordon has some complimentary things to say about the book and that’s a great thing to see, waking up on a cold Saturday in January.

In his first collection, Never More There (Nightwood Editions, 88 pages, $18), Newfoundland’s Stephen Rowe tackles some of life’s largest questions.

This comes in to sharpest focus in the long poem in the book’s first section on Rowe’s father and grandfather.

Rowe is after what it means to be a man — and a bookish male poet, to boot — especially when the grandfather you revere was an über-male: bear-like, equally at home in a wrestling ring or a logging camp.

A few poems further in, facing a landscape named and numbered by his grandfather’s generation, Rowe states his poetic thesis:

“Is there any wonder / I want to give these places names of my own? / Brand them with moments / like memories, but more real: / walk through this place in sunlight, / surefooted, / hands swinging by my side.”

Rowe recasts the small tragedies of his life in Gander as soaring for-the-ages tragedy in what amounts to a memorable debut.

You can check out the other books reviewed in the print edition as well by going here

For those of you who’ve been following this blog or the latest happenings in the Newfoundland writing scene, you will be aware of the SPARKS Literary Festival, which took place this Sunday past at Memorial University. I attended nearly the entirety of the readings and read myself in one of the afternoon sessions. It was a brilliant idea mothered by Mary Dalton with the aid of MUN’s Faculty of Arts, which brought together some of Newfoundland’s biggest names in the writing community for a day of reading and celebration of prose and poetry. It was very well attended, supporting the long-held thought that this sort of festival was long overdue in the province’s capital city.

Stephen Rowe

Me speaking during the Q&A after the reading.

One of the greatest things about the festival was the blending of experience and burgeoning talent. Established writers like Michael Crummey, Jessica Grant, Lisa Moore, Tom Dawe, Patrick Warner, and Don McKay were matched-up in reading sessions that included writers somewhat new to the literary scene (Lynette Adams, Randy Drover, Chad Pelley, Leslie Vryenhoek, and myself). This is not to mention the wealth of authors not reading who attended the festival in the audience. There was no shortage of creative energies in attendance as the festival brought great writing to great readers for the whole of the day. Of course, books by the authors were available, as were products by various literary presses and journals. 

  From a personal standpoint, I had a wonderful time reading my work and talking writing with the other participants. It’s not everyday a young poet gets to meet one of his literary influences and speaking briefly to Don McKay was a highlight for me.

CBC radio recorded the event, so I can assume that snippets from it will appear on the airwaves at some point in the future. If I find out any details on this I will certainly post on it.

(nolandgrab.org)

 If you’ve arrived at this article, you must be acquainted enough with the online world to navigate the blogosphere. Perhaps you surf the web-waves as a distraction from the toils of work; maybe certain authors posting daily help you get your information fix (I think of the people I know who wire themselves to Fark and Digg almost as though these vehicles for information and entertainment contain some nutrient-enriched supplement to their regular diet). There is a lot out there to digest and sorting through the strings of webpages across the globe can be a time consuming ordeal. To make things easier I would not be surprised one day to see a Canada’s Food Guide for websites, perhaps Canada’s Net Guide. The one thing that is certain is that with the wealth of blogs in existence one need not worry about running out of reading material. Finding the end of the internet is nearly impossible for one with varied interests and reading. 

For the literary minded, the question that inevitably comes to the fore is not a new one: what does the development of the blogosphere mean for literary magazines, journals, and other publications? Does easy and ready access to published material mean these print publications are at risk of fading into the twilight? 

I read Chris Banks’ recent post about just this topic and it started me thinking about my own opinions of this relatively new phenomenon in publishing. When I began writing, the internet served as a place where small groups of dedicated writers might gather, primarily on message boards, to share their writing with others. A poet would post a poem in the early stages of composition and seek advice and commentary from peers. What developed was, in essence, an online literary workshop which brought together a varied assortment of writers with differing levels of ability and background all with the same goal: to better themselves and their writing. This goal inevitably, at least for me (I am partly a product of this online community), lead many of these aspiring writers to seek publication and some kind of approval in an offical way for their hard work and effort. 

Naturally, one would submit to the well-known print magazines (in Canada I think of The Fiddlehead, The Antigonish Review, Grain, Prairie Fire, The Malahat Review, etc.) in an attempt to attain the status of a “published poet”. Anyone becoming familiar with the process quickly realized that these publications had massive backlogs of submissions and it could be one to two years before a poem of yours made its way between the covers (assuming it was just what the editor was looking for). As is may be expected, with the internet and the current generation of new writers, there is a need for instant gratification; one requires to see their name in an official form early on to give the internal reinforcement required by some to keep pounding away at the anvil of the wordsmith. 

This speedy response was far from coming and many I conversed with in the poetry message boards turned their efforts to online poetry websites of varying levels of authority and promise. Some of these were no more than a personal website run by an individual who had a passing interest in poetry who “updated” a new edition every Friday after work/school; others were straddling the fence between official status complete with names reminiscent of print magazines and being published quarterly. The problem is that this sort of publishing invites ridicule from the broader literary community which still saw print journals as the true justification of one’s early publishing endeavours. Being aware of this, I began submitting my work exclusively to print journals in to move things along in a way that, hopefully, would result in positive results. 

But those online journals are just so easy, in the sense that most take online submissions that save you both the time and cost required of posting your work. What eventually comes from this process and consideration of its downfalls and advantages is that an online journal can still showcase great writing and garner a quality reputation, but it requires two things: time and taste. Any journal will need to build itself  a track record to increase its readership and reputation as a vehicle for good writing. Good writing (taste) is necessary to make sure that only the best work finds its way into a given issue. Don’t publish a piece of writing if it’s not worth reading. The sad fact is that this does no always occur in online magazines. Where does the blog fit into this literary paradigm? As Banks suggests, its value is likely more kinetic in nature:

More than just a place to staple-gun every positive review, pat on the back or passing remark someone makes about one’s poems, poetry blogs are eliciting real discussion amongst poets in a way that I have never seen before and, more importantly, I am noticing actual changes, shifts in our thinking about poetry. The internet is the great equalizer and no one voice, or group of voices, can dominate. Everyone is allowed to have their say, no matter how many choruses of mook pedants try to shout one down. You need only look at the recent hullabaloo about reviewing in Canada. Others and I have begun to raise our voices calling for a reexamination of what constitutes poetry reviewery in this country, something that is long overdue.  

This is, without a doubt, one of the advantages of personal blogs as a means of promoting good literature and literary practices. Posting an opinion on a blog doesn not make it right, but the opening and continuing of dialogue between literary enthusiasts, reviewers, and authors is as valuable an addition to the publishing world as one can envision. Print magazines present ideas in a very stagnant way (not the ideas themselves, but the frequency for communication across time and place surrounding them). Responses to criticism can take months to appear in different print venues, making blogs the perfect medium for quick and lively discussion of relevant topics. I do not mean to imply that print journals should fade away, on the contrary I think they are more than valuable as tools to begin discourse, whereas blogs a means to allow that discourse to continue in a more organic way. The only downfall of this process I can think of at present is the potentially overwhelming amount of readable content that might result from such fast and, hopefully, eager commentary.

Like any online product, one has become aware the online magazines’ authenticity, validity, and legitimacy. Blogs and online journals can be lacking in either of these categories and so it is the reader’s responsibility to become aware of which are best to follow. The same was true of those message boards I participated in a several years ago, some were frequented by serious writers, others by the not so serious. Caution to the adventurou! But I believe the value of blogs and online sources has not yet been exhausted, nor has a cap been found for their possible contribution to critical discourse.

Next Page »