http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/index.htmlNew Posts from Steven MayoffenSteven MayoffCopyright 2010 Steven Mayoff2011-01-02T22:15:33-04:00 hourly 1 2000-01-01T12:00+00:00 Sun, 02 Jan 2011 22:41:03 -0400Steven MayoffPersonal2011-01-02T22:15:33-04:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/2f2a4c02a9ba24fcfc55951651164e96-67.html#unique-entry-id-67http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/2f2a4c02a9ba24fcfc55951651164e96-67.html#unique-entry-id-67That reference to a terrific T-Rex song is a dead giveaway of my age as well as my feelings about new year's as a time of renewal. I move slower now, so my time of renewal definitely needs a couple of months prep time. For me the new year never really gets started until March (partially due to the fact that my birthday is in the last week of February).

As for making resolutions, well... I keep making the same ones over and over with fair to middling results. Basically they have become my life resolutions, which are (in no particular order): try to get some kind of exercise, preferably something with good aerobic benefits; write every day, preferably something of a literary nature, as opposed to blogging or emails; read every day, again preferably something of a literary nature (fiction, non-fiction, poetry, etc) and eat better (less junk, more fibre, etc). The last actual new year's resolution I was able to keep (more or less) was to drink a cup of green tea every day. That was last year and, despite its many health benefits, I still can't stand the stuff.

So this year, no resolutions, except to keep trying to improve on the old ones. My success rate varies at certain times of the year. Being in a low-energy phase (or hibernation mode) these days, I try to be patient with myself. Come the spring the lethargy will start to thaw (like the iced-over river cracking) and hopefully productivity will improve. I'm sure there are many people out there (some who might even be reading this post) who go through this kind of thing. May 2011 be a creative and fruitful year for you all.]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2010-12-11T22:13:44-04:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/1bbf59aba16146f7909d6216f92a95ba-66.html#unique-entry-id-66http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/1bbf59aba16146f7909d6216f92a95ba-66.html#unique-entry-id-66
A new one was immediately ordered and Thelma, seeing how lost I was, offered to let me use her laptop until the new one arrived. Although I did use it, mostly for the usual diversions - Facebook, Twitter, news, crosswords, etc - I didn't want to do any writing on it. The exception was editing a piece of writing that my mentee sent me. It would not have been fair to make her wait until my new laptop showed up, especially since I wasn't entirely sure when that would be.

In light of that uncertainty, I decided to rewrite the scene I had been working on in longhand. Perhaps decided is the wrong word. I did go so far as to choose a pen and one of the many half-filled (or half-empty, depending on what day it is) notebooks that are lying around my office. I even wrote a heading for the scene and a brief description of where it took place and who was in it. Aside from the usual laziness, it's hard to say why I couldn't continue. Many writers do their first drafts in long hand and then subsequent revisions are written on typewriters or computers. That seems a reasonable enough process. Maybe that's why I can’t see myself doing it. Writing isn't a reasonable activity for me. There's nothing orderly about it. I always seem to be groping blindly through the cluttered attic of my thoughts. 

I also don't like writing prose in longhand because of my bad handwriting. The idea of having to decipher what I've written and then transfer it to my computer turns something in me cold. I used to write poetry in longhand, but at some point switched over to the computer. I prefer experimenting with line breaks on the screen, rather than have a page full of scratched out lines. I know there are many writers who feel that visceral connection that comes with physically moving a pen or pencil across real paper. There seems to be a direct link from mind to hand to paper. I used to feel that connection, but now my writing fix can only be consummated by two fingers (one on each hand, to be exact, the forefinger on my left hand and the middle finger of my right hand) tapping on a keyboard. 

Some writers feel more connected to the keyboard because they can write faster with it. They say their fingers can keep up with the speed of their thoughts. That's not necessarily the case with me. My hunt and peck style (sometimes more like search and destroy) is all I need to get down my plodding thoughts with plenty of time to spare. I often wonder what I would do if there were no more laptops and I had to write solely with pen and paper. I have no doubt that I would be able to adapt or go crazy. But for now the mind to finger to screen connection is what I need to take me into the visceral zone that makes writing worthwhile. Oh yeah, and that scene I lost? The rewrite is much better than what I had before.]]>Steven MayoffWriting LifeFatted Calf Blues2010-11-30T07:05:16-04:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/91cd822baee7f4db6b7847639f7537cb-65.html#unique-entry-id-65http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/91cd822baee7f4db6b7847639f7537cb-65.html#unique-entry-id-65Fatted Calf Blues, won the PEI Book Award for fiction. It felt like vindication for the snail-like but steady progress I've been making since I moved to PEI in 2001 to devote myself to my writing. Along with a commemorative tray made by an Island artist and a cash prize, the award is also a nice little profile boost for a book that is over a year and a half old. The ceremony itself was subdued and intimate, which was nice in one way, but also a bit of a shame in another.

The best thing about an award like this is the opportunity for the literary community to blow its own horn, not just for the winners but for the shortlisted authors as well. Unfortunately, there was no short list publicized for the PEI awards. The bigger literary awards, such as the Giller, the GGs and the Writers' Trust, always publicize their short lists (and sometimes long lists) well in advance as a lead-up to the awards themselves. It is a great platform from which publishers and authors can promote themselves. In the case of the GGs, readings by all the short listed authors are organized and publicized. 

The PEI Book Awards are given out every two years. The reason for that is the dearth of published books that come out of our small literary community. Two years allows for a larger pool of books to choose from. All the more reason to really milk it for all its worth. It would be heartening to see them take a page from the week-long festivities granted to the PEI Music Awards and show a little pride in our local literary community. 

In an earlier post this month, I aired my sour grapes re: a lack of fanfare for the ReLit Awards, for which Fatted Calf Blues was short listed. Well, as they say (or should say): When life deals you sour grapes, make Manishewitz. I Tweeted, Facebooked and emailed my good fortune for all I was worth. At some point I actually worried that I was just shy of spamming and expected a volley of emails, tweets and comments that said: "Enough already!" 

Instead, I got very sweet and supportive messages from good friends and passing acquaintances alike. And therein lies the real reward of getting an award.]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2010-11-12T13:02:28-04:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/202a02b961f729cb6d9d3ac555121949-63.html#unique-entry-id-63http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/202a02b961f729cb6d9d3ac555121949-63.html#unique-entry-id-63Gaspereau Press had in mind when they refused to give into pressure (being both an award-winning creator of hand-crafted books and a publisher) and mass produce The Sentimentalists by Johanna Skibsrud, the 2010 Giller Prize winner. What they did do, whether by fluke or by design (I'm betting on the former), was create more buzz for this book than winning the prize alone could do, and that's quite a feat. The fact that consumers could not readily buy the book in their local book stores dramatically spiked e-Book sales of the title. I'm sure Gaspereau didn't bank on that delicious bit of irony either. Apparently, they are in negotiations to make some kind of distribution deal, so maybe they are bowing to pressure in some fashion. I do hope that somewhere in all this hubbub a compromise can be found that serves both art and the marketplace.

Back to that irony about the spike in e-Book sales. Most people who bought e-Books probably will not go on to buy a hand-crafted edition of The Sentimentalists. I'm going to assume that their predilection for e-Books means they wouldn't have done so anyway. The slow craftsmanship of what Gaspereau does (and by all reports does very well) flies in the face of the strike-while-the-iron-is-hot furor surrounding the win of any major prize. Jack Rabinovitch, founder of the Gillers, was quoted in the Globe & Mail as saying that Gaspereau “...have to decide if they’re printers or publishers.” 

While it might not be fair to Johanna Skibsrud to have production of her book held up because of Gaspereau's exacting standards (I would be equally frustrated in her place), is it any fairer that Gaspereau Press be asked to decide on what they are? The fact is they are publishers who print their own books. They've made a conscious decision to rebel against the mass production of books to eke out a living as artisans. I know it's heresy to suggest such a thing, but why can't the marketplace bend to them a bit? 

What's wrong with making people wait for what they want?  The risk is that if you make them wait too long they won't want it any more, but if you make them wait long enough you could create a bigger demand. It's that kind of delicate balance that inspires creative strategy. One thing is for sure, winning the Giller Prize has created some growing pains for Gaspereau Press. They may have to rethink their mandate and how to make it best serve art and commerce. I think that's called maturity.]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2010-11-08T21:20:17-04:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/833d4f43f98cb977ab631333bb64f16f-62.html#unique-entry-id-62http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/833d4f43f98cb977ab631333bb64f16f-62.html#unique-entry-id-62
How does one form of writing influence another? For me, the common denominator always seems to be narrative, even in poetry. But there are aspects of poetry that show up in prose and scripts, for instance the topography of words on a page. Scripts (both film and stage) have a fairly standard format that owes a lot to white space, not unlike a poem (to my mind anyway). When I first tried my hand at writing prose I used the idea of poetic stanzas to inform how I created paragraphs. And I can only hope that the compression of language that is so important in poetry somehow contributes to the economy of prose in my fiction and dialogue in my scripts.

How the narrative forms of fiction and scripts influence my poetry is another matter. Even if my poems aren't telling an outright story, I believe the mounting intensity of accumulated images can be a condensed form of narrative. This theory is supported in a sense by the notion that scenes in a story (whether it be prose or script) can be seen as miniature versions of the larger story. The accumulation of these scenes, growing in intensity as the narrative unfolds, gives us the bigger picture of what the story is about.

What does any of this have to do with procrastination?  I suppose that putting off one thing in order to work on another creates a natural order that supersedes whatever my "rational" mind thinks I should be working on at any given time. I guess it's part of the writer's instinct: that little voice I always end up listening to. It hasn't steered me wrong yet.]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2010-11-05T19:44:45-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/83cbfe7036fcc82b22910e152cfa136e-61.html#unique-entry-id-61http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/83cbfe7036fcc82b22910e152cfa136e-61.html#unique-entry-id-61
I don't really understand the reason for these kinds of writing initiatives (the Three day Novel Writing Contest being another). Writing a novel is a difficult and serious business. Why would you want to make it even harder by imposing such a short deadline? I do understand the motivating factor behind deadlines, especially self-imposed ones. I also understand that failing to make these deadlines (which has been my experience at least half the time) is beside the point. The idea is to get yourself writing. Ahh, I see now. That's what NaNoWriMo is all about, getting people writing. I suppose it's the same way that the Harry Potter craze was lauded because it got young people reading.

The thing I remember about that is whenever you asked a young person what they were reading, the answer was inevitably “Harry Potter.” I was very pleased to see them reading, but somewhat disappointed that they seemed to stick to the same thing. I kept hoping that Harry Potter might be a starting point to get them reading other things. Perhaps that did happen in some cases. Perhaps I missed the media frenzy about the eclectic tastes that young people were developing in their reading habits.

Trying to keep an open mind, I can see the usefulness of NaNoWriMo in that it would help one quickly get down on paper that pesky first draft, which is arguably the bane of most novelists. They are shitty to write and even shittier to read, but at least you've got something on paper (or computer screen or cave wall or whatever) and can now commence with the real task of revising, revising, revising. As the cliche goes: novels are not written, they're rewritten. Still, I wonder whether NaNoWriMo takes this idea into consideration. The idea behind it seems to be don't think about it, just get it down fast. There are those writers who do write hot for their first drafts, but I'm not one of them. I'm a plodder. I like to take my sweet precious time over the words that I set down, erase, revise, fret over, rethink, and go back to what I originally had. What NaNoWriMo seems to willfully ignore is the luxuriousness of the creative process.

This lesson hit home recently in the course of my duties in the PEI Writers' Guild Mentoring Program, where I am mentor to a writer who is struggling with a first draft of a children's book. The program lasts until the end of January and I realistically thought I could help her bang out a first draft. Her first writing assignment was an outline, which she completed with a full array of characters and events set down in point form. I then assigned her to write a first chapter and told her what elements I felt it should contain: a protagonist, a description of her world, what her dream, goal or desire is and an inciting incident (a film writing term that means: the event that gets the story going).

She did a great job, for a first draft, and I assumed she might want to push on to chapter two. I was delighted to find out that her writing instinct told her she should go back and take another shot at revising the first chapter. Rather than pushing ahead in an all-consuming rush to get it down, she opted to think about what she was writing and get that first draft as right as possible before she was ready to move forward. She listened to her gut instead of to me. As a mentor, I could not have been prouder.

I propose a new initiative called NoMoWriMo. The lesson I keep learning over and over is that writing is a lifelong struggle, no matter how quickly you get it down. It reminds me of when writers started using computers and word processors with all their time-saving shortcuts. Even back then I understood that there are no shortcuts through the creative process.]]>Steven MayoffWriting LifeFatted Calf Blues2010-11-02T21:05:51-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/9696b52d9b96326010c3917c4a6e46a1-60.html#unique-entry-id-60http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/9696b52d9b96326010c3917c4a6e46a1-60.html#unique-entry-id-60Fatted Calf Blues, was recently on the short list for a ReLit Award, which was created by Newfoundland writer, Kenneth J. Harvey, to promote books published by small indie presses. I was very pleased to make it to the short list, but, at the risk of sounding ungrateful, I was a bit disappointed by the lack of fanfare surrounding this award. Perhaps it boils down to the fact that fanfare costs money and, to be fair, the motto of the ReLit is "Ideas, Not Money."  

Although I was aware that the awards would be given out at the Ottawa International Writers Festival, I didn't receive any kind of notice or invitation to attend the event. My publisher knew nothing about it either. In fact they didn't even know I had made the short list until I informed them. I didn't even know I had made the long list until a friend, who had happened to see it on the Quill & Quire website, let me know.  I understand that the low key atmosphere surrounding the ReLit is in keeping with that of the small indie presses it celebrates, but it still would have been nice if a bigger deal was made of it. 

But now here we are in the season of the Big 3 (the Gillers, the GGs and the Writers' Trust) and the fanfare wheels are being cranked up. The good news in all this is that this year the Giller noms are mostly small press books (which seems to be the case every few years). Not that I have anything against big press books getting attention. It's dog-eat-dog in the publishing world and these awards are a chance for industry types to get out there and cheer for whichever of their books have been shortlisted.

Oh wait, did someone say that all these awards are about promoting our literature to the public? I guess I forgot that part. Even that once great bastion of Canadian culture, the CBC, is doing their part with its Canada Reads competition. That one is supposed to actually reflect the opinions of Canadian readers, because it is they who suggest which 40 books get on the long list. Now that the 40 have been posted on line, the public can vote for the books that will make the short list. 

The wee problem (in my view anyway), is that people used to be able to vote for any Canadian book, while the rule this year is that the book has to be a novel (non-fiction, poetry and short story collections need not apply) that has been published in the past ten years. It was my understanding that the original impetus behind Canada Reads was to celebrate the history of Canadian literature (including non-fiction, poetry and short story collections), as well as being an opportunity to refresh the public's mind about certain forgotten books (such as past winners Rockbound and King Leary). Instead, the CBC, in its usual questionable wisdom, has turned this into another literary horse race. 

Maybe I'm just suffering from a case of sour grapes. Maybe I wish I was also out there on all the social network sites, pushing for people to be voting for my book. Maybe I'm just sore about being denied my share of the fanfare pie. I can't deny any of that. Writers now have to work as hard promoting their books as they do writing them. Having a platform, such as being on an awards shortlist, can be a great boon. I suppose the best thing I can do is wish them all well, forget about the fans and get back into the meaty fare of actual writing.  Now there's an idea that's money.]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2010-10-23T23:12:38-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/8c72594083e1e5ae1c3142128d15eac1-58.html#unique-entry-id-58http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/8c72594083e1e5ae1c3142128d15eac1-58.html#unique-entry-id-58
I bring up rhyming because I have been thinking about how certain restrictions in writing, particularly writing poetry, can free you to go places you might not normally go. Lately I have been writing poems in a form called the pantoum, which is a series of quatrains (a stanza of four lines). Once you have composed your first quatrain, the second line becomes the first line of your second quatrain and the fourth line (of the first quatrain) becomes the third line (of your second quatrain). The second and fourth lines (of the second quatrain) are new. In the next quatrain the rotation repeats: second and fourth lines of the second quatrain become the first and third lines of the third quatrain with its second and fourth lines being new. This goes on for as long as you like. 

As thoroughly confusing as that is, here's the kicker: The first and third lines of your final quatrain must be the same as the second and fourth lines of your penultimate quatrain. The second line (of the final quatrain) must be the same as the third line of your first quatrain and the last line (of your final quatrain) is the first line of your first quatrain. Thus your poem has come full circle.

I expect most of you gave up half way through my explanation (there's no easy way to describe it) and I admit it took me a while to figure this out. I was helped by a couple of examples I found on Wikipedia: Pantoum of the Great Depression by Donald Justice  and Parent's Pantoum by Carolyn Kizer.

What you will discover is that the repetition of lines isn't strictly perfect. While you are allowed to use the line exactly as before, you are also allowed (even encouraged) to make changes to the line using punctuation, puns, shifting the order of words, etc. in order to alter the meaning and develop the poem's theme. This was the part that intrigued me the most. I recognized that within the form's narrow parameters there was a kind of freedom. 

A month ago I had had a meeting with Anne Simpson to show her some of my poems. There was one in particular that she liked that was a single page in length. She suggested that I could make it longer and explore the theme in more depth. I had no idea how to do that and was considering using each of its five stanzas as the basis for a ghazal (another form I have been exploring). But when I discovered the pantoum I had one of those aha! moments, that don't come very often. I turned each stanza of the original poem into a quatrain and used each one as the beginning of a different pantoum. My poem would be comprised of five connected pantoums. 

As soon as I did that I was surprised by how quickly (though not necessarily easily) I fell into the form. It reminded me very much of song writing. I realized that the variations on the repeated lines were creating the poem's music. That was quite a revelation. I am still in the revision process and although I feel I have indeed gone deeper into my poem's theme, the jury is still out on whether this foray into form poetry has been entirely successful. But I can honestly say it has been thoroughly satisfying.  ]]>Steven MayoffRadio2010-10-20T19:02:08-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/6b87401e34f8115c19316f40efab189f-57.html#unique-entry-id-57http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/6b87401e34f8115c19316f40efab189f-57.html#unique-entry-id-57
I was listening to an interesting three-part documentary on BBC Radio 2 about Jac Holzman and Elektra Records.  He started the company in the mid 1950s against everyone's advice and recorded folk music, which was his personal passion. The recording industry at that time was mostly interested in hit singles, but Holzman was fascinated by albums and the idea of a group of songs creating a whole unified statement.

His first success was recordings by Theodore Bikel, an actor who also performed folk songs from around the world, particularly in Russian and Hebrew.  In the 60s he discovered Judy Collins, the psychedelic rock band Love, Detroit punks The MC5 and The Stooges, and most famously, The Doors. In the 70s Elektra artists included Bread, Carly Simon and Harry Chapin, who initially turned Holzman down to go with Clive Davis at Columbia. Holzman showed up at Chapin's house and said he wasn't going to leave until they worked out a deal.

The gist of the documentary was that Holzman always went with his gut instincts, was personally involved with the recording and development of his artists and believed first and foremost in the power of good song writing. What amazed me about the history of Elektra and about Holzman is the eclectic range of artists. He didn't care so much about genres of music or what was in fashion as he was about the quality of the music, whether it be rock, folk, pop or classical (he also had a classical label called Nonesuch). Holzman got out of the business in the mid 70s when lawyers and business managers took more power and he had less access to the artists themselves.

I find great inspiration in the story of someone who found success by following his passion. His artists didn't always sell so well and he took many chances, some that paid off and others that didn't. I'm trying to think of someone like that today, either in the music business or, more pertinent to myself, in the book industry. There are new magazines (online and in print) by young passionate people all the time. New publishers are popping up here and there. The spirit of adventure doesn't seem to have died altogether.

But where are the visionaries of the industry? Is the economy so bad that everyone feels they have to keep their heads down and focus on the bottom line? Established publishers pick up new writers and drop them like used Kleenex if they don't produce the coveted best seller. No one has the time or inclination to develop new talent. They all want to find the next J.K.Rowling or Rawi Hage? Fine. Me, I'm looking for the next Jack McClelland or Anansi Press. Or better yet, the next Jac Holzman.

I don't want to romanticize Jac Holzman too much. By all reports he was a businessman with his eye on the dollar.  He knew which side his bread was buttered on, but he also seemed to also have a need to feed his soul. Somehow, artistry and commerce lived side by side in his world. That's a world I would love to see with my own eyes.]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2010-09-27T19:48:18-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/ee6bfd5524044a2d403147009ae1d4f2-56.html#unique-entry-id-56http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/ee6bfd5524044a2d403147009ae1d4f2-56.html#unique-entry-id-56The Shipping News, which took me the first hundred pages before I actually got into it.  There are books that I have seen through to the last page, more out of stubbornness than interest.  But I feel a sense of personal failure when I give up on a book. This happened recently with A Million Little Pieces by James Frey.  

From the first page I didn't care for the writing, first person/present tense, which adopted a highly stylized, haphazard quality. The obvious desired effect was to put the reader in the mind of the addict narrator. Nothing wrong with that.  Immediately, I was reminded of the controversy when Oprah Winfrey championed the book as a harrowing memoir of drug addiction and recovery, only to later publicly vilify Frey on her show when she discovered that some of the "facts" had been embellished.  So when I saw for myself how stylized the writing was, I could only think how naive Oprah had been to take the narrative as verbatim fact.  For that reason I decided to be patient and give Frey a chance to tell his story.

This book was recommended to me by someone who knew that I was writing a play on addiction and recovery.  That was another reason I patiently waded through the unnecessarily repetitive prose, hoping to glean some insight into the mind of an addict.  On that score there were some interesting passages and moments when my sympathy was on the narrator's side.  But half way through the book I decided enough was enough.  It's hard to say exactly what straw broke the camel's back.  It seemed to be an accumulation of things.  More often than not, the prose style got on my nerves rather than drawing me into the narrator's world. The story itself also became annoyingly repetitive: first he wants to get better, then he decides he'll leave the centre and get high,then something (or someone) happens to change his mind, then he decides to stick it out and on and on.  Obviously this is true to life in the pattern of recovery, but as a story I  have to say I just stopped caring. 

Some may argue that this is a true-to-life memoir, that Frey is writing from his own experience, fudged facts or not. As a fiction writer, who often draws from his own experience, I believe the facts shouldn't ever get in the way of the truth.  The great thing about fiction is that it is a lie. The better the lie, the more we want to read. If, when we close the final page and put the book aside, we actually retain anything of what we read, whether it's something in the story or the way it was told, I would say that is the truth of the story.  

Still, I feel some guilt in giving up on A Million Little Pieces. On the one hand, Frey's story just didn't keep my interest. On the other hand I can't help but feel that if hung in there just a few pages more my patience might have been rewarded. Ridiculous, I know, considering I stuck it out for half the book.  Or is that what is really bothering me? Misplaced trust? Either way, it was clearly time to turn the page.]]>Steven MayoffWriting LifeFatted Calf Blues2010-09-24T21:00:32-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/e20e48aaef6e425590d55b40798b3191-54.html#unique-entry-id-54http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/e20e48aaef6e425590d55b40798b3191-54.html#unique-entry-id-54Anne Simpson, whom, I am proud to say, I know.  In the middle of the reading she stopped to take some questions and was asked by a student about whether she had ever turned any of her poems into songs.  She answered that she had not and began to speak a bit about the difference between poems and song lyrics when she suddenly called my name, knowing that I have written both song lyrics and poems, and asked me to weigh in on the subject.

I was sitting at the back of the room, liking to be as inconspicuous as possible, and so was rather startled to have the audience's attention turn to me. I remember my mind racing for an answer and my wife tells me that I handled myself well (as a good and supportive wife should, although I well know she would have no qualms in telling me if I screwed up royally). Essentially I said that poems and lyrics are two very different animals. No matter how accomplished a lyric may be, it will always be merely one half of that entity called a song.  When writing a lyric, one is always aware that there is another component to come, which is the music, unless one is setting lyrics to an established melody. A poem, on the other hand, must stand on its own and somehow engender its own music, which can happen in a number of ways.

In the following days I thought more and more about the difference between these two disciplines, in particular the different ways in which a poem creates its own music. First of all, there is language and the musicality of words. The best example I can think of is the poetry of Dylan Thomas, whose incredible lines seem to leap from the page. In fact the musicality of his language was sometimes a target for criticism and some have said his poems have more music than meaning. I don't agree with that. In a way it reminds me of the film Amadeus, where the king tells Mozart that his composition has too many notes. Both seem to be criticisms for their own sake and not very well thought out.

After Anne took questions she returned to her reading and asked if there was anything that the audience wanted her to read. I immediately put up my hand as asked her to read  the poem Clocks Of Rain from her collection, Quick. It is one of my favorite poems and I have heard her read it on a number of occasions.  As I listened, I realized that I could not have asked for a better example of a poem's musicality.  First of all, I must say that I think this poem is a departure from Anne's usual work (she may very well disagree with me on this).  Anne does not so much read the poem as she performs it. It is a poem about a car accident and is very intense.  There are many pauses in the printed version and orally these come across as disturbing silences. In retrospect, I am reminded of a quote about music (was it Stravinsky who said it?) that goes, roughly: The real music exists between the notes (incidentally, I used this myself in a poem). In that sense, the real poetry in Clocks Of Rain exists in those silences.  You would have to hear Anne's performance to fully appreciate it.

A poem also creates music in its juxtaposition of images. I seem to remember an interview with James Merrill, where he likened his juxtaposition of images as being like billiard balls knocking against each other. That definitely has a musical sound to my ear.  That's why the complexity of poetry, which in itself can evoke a rich musicality,  doesn't always work well as a song.  I know from experience that composers always prefer simple words to work with. When read on the page, many lyrics seem rather banal and simplistic, yet when sung reveal an inner richness of meaning and emotion.

It often is the case that lyric and melody are a unique marriage, a juxtaposition of meaning and emotion, knocking against each other in their own peculiar fashion. The example that springs to mind is the standard Blue Skies . The lyric seems to be clear enough (pun intended): Blue skies smiling at me, nothing but blue skies do I see.  Yet, there's something odd about the music. If I knew more about the technical aspects of music I could describe it better, but there seems to be some minor notes (any of you musicians out there can take me to task on this) that give the song a sense of foreboding that adds a different layer of meaning on the lyric.  In a way, it reminds me of an Alex Colville painting, where things seem serene enough, but one somehow has a sense that something is not quite right. 
 
Last year I read at a reading series in Hamilton, Ontario called Lit Live. When it was advertised in a local Hamilton arts newspaper, the readers were listed with a small blurb beside their names. Beside mine it said that I was going to perform songs from my collection Fatted Calf Blues  (which, of course, is a story collection). Nevertheless, I really liked the typo and feel that it caught the essence of what I am always trying to do in my writing, which is to capture that sense of mystery - that indescribable something that cannot always be expressed by words alone - in the seemingly limited medium of language.]]>Steven MayoffPersonal2010-09-20T22:14:12-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/6738682a9fc6e01b8462b6c8011b84eb-53.html#unique-entry-id-53http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/6738682a9fc6e01b8462b6c8011b84eb-53.html#unique-entry-id-53
I decided that this would be more of a cultural observation,rather than a religious one.  I don't consider myself to be at all religious.  It's a bit of a stretch to think of myself as spiritual, although I could probably make the argument for it.  I like the cliché that says we are not humans on a spiritual journey, but instead we are spirits on a human journey.  Like most clichés there is a nugget of truth there. A spiritual journey sounds as if it would be fraught with a need for perfection. A human journey seems to allow for a lot of stumbling and mistakes. 

Although Thelma didn't fast, and I wouldn't have expected her to, she was respectful of my observance by not having the radio on and listened to it on her iPod with headphones. And so my 24 hour period of atonement had a somewhat monastic feel as the house was mostly silent. Ideally, I was supposed to spend my time meditating on my sins.  There was very little of that. I went for long walks, as I do most days. On my walks I tend to let anything and everything pop into my head.  Part of the Yom Kippur rule is that we are not supposed to work, but I did think about the play that I have yet to start and came up with some interesting ideas about how the story might unfold.  If there is anything spiritual about me it is connected to being a storyteller, so I'm hoping it all evens out somehow.  

When I wasn't going for walks I sat in my office and read a wonderful collection called Great Jewish Short Stories. That is the cultural part of the observance.  My favorite were a couple of stories by Sholom Aleichem, who is best known as the source of the musical Fiddler On The Roof. In fact, one of the stories I read, Hodel, is about one of Tevye's daughters and makes up part of the musical's plot.  There was a story from the Apocrypha and one by the Jewish philosopher Martin Buber, so I did get a something of a lesson in Jewish history.  If nothing else, Judaism is best defined in its stories.

As I said earlier, by the time 4 p.m. came my stomach was starting to rumble and the hours seemed to drag.  24 hours goes by slowly when all you do is read and go for walks, but the slowness of a fast always provides food for thought.  My fast ended with a takeout turkey dinner that my mother-in-law brought from a Presbyterian church supper.  Blintzes would have been nice, but I always like a meal that's rich in irony.]]>Steven MayoffPersonal2010-09-15T08:44:26-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/fdf03035b8ff5b92a753ed7790686834-52.html#unique-entry-id-52http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/fdf03035b8ff5b92a753ed7790686834-52.html#unique-entry-id-52Yom Kippur  begins this Friday at sundown. The last time I fasted was roughly thirty years ago. I have decided to observe this Friday's Day of Atonement by not eating, watching TV, listening to the radio or opening my lap top. I will spend the twenty-four hours (the waking ones at least) either sitting in my office or walking through our surrounding woods. I will also, no doubt, go for a walk or two on my usual route along the Rafferty Road and the Canadian Road. Theoretically, I will be spending all this time contemplating my sins. I may actually start out doing that, but, knowing my wandering monkey mind, I expect to wander down numerous mental side routes and maybe even some spiritual back roads.

Aside from thinking, we are also allowed to read, preferably from the bible or some other spiritually edifying material. I am currently reading A Million Little Pieces  by James Frey. Although it is, to some degree, about self-examination, I don't think it is particularly relevant literature for such a solemn observance. I have decided to allow myself to read from Great Jewish Short Stories, a collection edited by Saul Bellow which contains stories by Isaac Babel, Sholom Aleichem, Bernard Malamud, Isaac Bashevis Singer and others. 

The question is why have I decided to observe the holiest of Jewish holidays now? Am I looking for spiritual clarification? Do I really believe I can find it by abstaining from food and work? Am I just getting soft in my old age? On all three accounts I could probably argue yes and no.  I think I am mostly interested in the ritual and the symbolism that goes along with it. I do believe that writing stories, poems, plays and whatever gives me, along with the usual frustration and obsessiveness, a connection to something spiritual, even - dare I say it? -  divine. In a way, exploring daily rituals, often of the most banal nature, and the commonplace symbols that most people overlook, are a part of my trade as a writer.  I'd like to believe that I'm searching out the extraordinary in daily ordinariness. 

In the end, the short answer as to why I am observing Yom Kippur this year is that I'm doing it just to do it.  As a writer and as a Jew (and I suppose as a Jewish writer) that is the best reason of all.]]>Steven MayoffPEIPersonal2010-09-12T22:36:34-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/d5f731f77057614cba652d74f257b569-51.html#unique-entry-id-51http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/d5f731f77057614cba652d74f257b569-51.html#unique-entry-id-51Casa Mia Cafe. Their pan-tossed potato with caramelized onions really hit the spot. Thelma had a few shopping errands on her list and, with an unwavering focus, we managed to carry them out with military precision.  By that time we were a mite peckish (what else is new?), and so we dropped by the Farmer's Market .

I had hoped that we could take a walk on the beach or possibly on the boardwalk in North Rustico, but the weather was not on our side. So we passed by the Empire Cinemas to see if there was anything worth seeing. Much to our surprise they were showing a live BBC broadcast of the Last Night of the Proms from the Royal Albert Hall. The Proms is a series of summer concerts and the last one is always a huge event.  This movie theatre often shows live broadcasts of opera and these are usually well-attended. Apparently they didn't publicize this Last Night broadcast very well because there were only three other people in the theatre.

When I found out it was a three and a half hour show (including a twenty minute intermission) I was prepared for a long sit, but it went by faster than I expected.  The BBC camera work was excellent with some incredible aerial shots on the inside of the formidable Royal Albert Hall and some brilliant close-ups of the orchestra, choir and soloists, who included American soprano Renee Fleming, and Dame Kiri Te Kanawa. There were corresponding outdoor concerts in Hyde Park, Wales, Ireland and Scotland.  At one point, through the miracle of technology, audiences at all the concerts sang together in a rousing rendition of the Rodgers and Hammerstein classic, You'll Never Walk Alone. In all, it was a great way for Thelma and I to spend our anniversary. But that was not the end of it.

For supper we drove to Rustico and ate at the cozy Pearl Cafe. I had already eaten there in August with members of the Seawords Workshop, but this was Thelma's first time.  We were not disappointed. Thelma started off with a roasted tomato soup with an arugula emulsion. It had a beautiful flavor.  I had the chicken confit terrine with warm brioche and a rhubarb preserve.  For our main courses Thelma chose a tea-rubbed chicken breast and I went with the pan-fried scallops with potato rosti. If Rustico is the oyster then this comfortable and unassuming little cafe is definitely The Pearl.  As mentioned earlier, we got home a little after 10:00 pm, tired and satisfied by our day's celebration.  I'm already thinking about what we might do next year.]]>Steven MayoffFamilyPersonalPEI2010-09-10T19:23:53-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/3a31aaae40a68100faa9520b0dc2c375-50.html#unique-entry-id-50http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/3a31aaae40a68100faa9520b0dc2c375-50.html#unique-entry-id-50
There are so many things about September 11th that make me angry.  That so many people had to lose their lives.  That a few radical extremists were able to grab the world's attention with such a heinous act.  That  governments around the world were able to use fear to manipulate the people under the guise of protecting them. That the current racism against Muslims is still justified by this fear. Even today there is an ignorant reverend in Florida who believes he is justified in burning another religion's holy book as a message to a radical minority. I am angry that radical minorities get all the media attention while the majority of sensible, law-abiding people are cast in the shadows.

When I asked Thelma to marry me on our anniversary, September 11th, 2005, I specifically requested that we get married in exactly one year so that our official anniversary would be September 11th. It was important to me to have this date be about something other than violence, fear, madness and mourning. I needed to remember that life is worth living. I needed to find a way (as Bruce Cockburn so eloquently put it) to kick at the darkness till it bled daylight.  We live in the shadow of September 11th every day of our lives. I'm glad to say that I also live in a ray of hope with my darling Thelma here in our little corner of the world. Every day of our lives.]]>Steven MayoffPersonalPEI2010-09-08T15:35:51-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/c2691f3fd96b551fa435aa25cc1a28af-49.html#unique-entry-id-49http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/c2691f3fd96b551fa435aa25cc1a28af-49.html#unique-entry-id-49Let your nearest and dearest know how much you love them..." etc, etc). On a bad day I just shake my head in bewilderment and wonder why I even bother.

The influence of stars and planets soar over my head, so to speak, but the moon brings it all much closer to home.  Living out here in the country has clarified my connection to the lunar phases.  When the moon is full the night sky is so bright I could stand outside and count the blades of grass.  It shines through my bedroom window like an insomniac's halo and I have to burrow into the basement to watch late-night chat shows and Law and Order reruns until fatigue mercifully overcomes me.  One would hope that this would be a perfect opportunity to get some writing done, but there always seems to be some kind of mental static that makes any kind of concentration all but impossible.  I never have the urge to grow hair and howl, but it always feels like there is some kind of inner werewolf on the prowl.   

There are other times when the full moon has the opposite effect and I am hopelessly lethargic.  All I want to do is sleep for days.  I can't begin to imagine what is in my chemical make-up that makes me so susceptible to Io's unpredictable whims. It is no secret that the full moon has this pull over most of the human and animal population. It is the other phases that interest me. A few days ago I saw a beautifully lit crescent moon that looked like a phosphorescent fingernail paring. I think this is the most aesthetically pleasing of all the phases, so much so it inspired a simple lyric a few years ago.

Thumbnail Moon

Old thumbnail moon,
crescent and thin,
scratched out
from the night like a grin.
Bloodless and bone white
it sheds its meager light
on a heart that’s filled with gloom
whose last hope
hangs on an old thumbnail moon.

Money and love,
losses and gains,
funny how luck
waxes and wanes.
Bowed but unbroken
I vowed to start again,
cradling my pride’s frail wound
in the curve
of that old thumbnail moon

As for this new moon... only time will tell what strings it is going to be pulling down here on earth.  No matter what changes it may bring, globally or personally,  the only constant is - to paraphrase a song by The Style Council - I'll always be caught up in the whirlwind of my ever changing moons. ]]>Steven MayoffWriting LifeFamilyPEI2010-09-06T20:24:52-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/5c34508dcc54e1fb5dfc74791acdba17-48.html#unique-entry-id-48http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/5c34508dcc54e1fb5dfc74791acdba17-48.html#unique-entry-id-48
After the previous week of muggy, uncomfortable weather, Earl left gentle cool temperatures in his wake.  Sunday was crisp and sunny and was spent having a sociable lunch with friends at the Dunes Cafe in Brackley Beach, where my dear Thelma bought me a small statue of Ganesh for my office. Today being Labour Day Monday, I felt some kind of labour might be in order and so a long-needed clean up of my office took place. We moved our fax machine (do people still send faxes?) into the basement and shifted the printer off my desk, giving me more room (for the Ganesh!).  The place where I spend most of my day looks more or less orderly.

An orderly work space, cool weather... I'm starting to get that autumnal feeling, that strange sense of renewal I used to feel when I was a mere shirt-tail tad getting ready to start to school. I'm hoping this feeling carries me into a more productive period. Not that I've been entirely idle, but ever since July I seem to have been finding one reason or another to not get started on the play I've been saying I will write since July. The need to do some research was the main excuse, but I think there is something else: that moment of panic in the pit of my stomach just before embarking on a new project. Facing the blank screen is one thing, but putting fingers to keyboard always involves a certain leap of faith, not unlike walking into a new classroom. It's nice to know that I don't take these things for granted and I hope I never will. All the same, I think I will savor the orderliness of my office before I step off the cliff.]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2010-08-30T18:31:40-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/a8ba7b817356095f6509cb808fa7e168-47.html#unique-entry-id-47http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/a8ba7b817356095f6509cb808fa7e168-47.html#unique-entry-id-47Writers' Federation of New Brunswick) earlier this year.  It was an interesting experience to be on the other side of the manuscript, although not too different from how I imagined it might be.

Writing contests can be good things for writers, in particular the cash prizes, which can range from $200 - $2,000. There's also the bragging rights, especially if it’s a prestigious contest like the CBC Literary Award, which also looks good on a resume. 

But contests have many drawbacks as well. First of all, there is the cost of entering.  I'd prefer not to think about all the money I've spent over the years.  The average entry fee can run anywhere from $10 - $30.  The best bang for your buck is with the contests put on by small literary magazines, such as the Malahat Review or Grain, because the entry fee also gets you a year's subscription to the magazine.

If you are entering a screenplay contest it can be more, although they usually have multiple deadlines: early bird, usually around $30; regular deadline - $40; late deadline - $50 and the very late - $60.  Since these are often annual contests, I would say it is probably worth your while to spend time revising your screenplay and waiting until the next early bird deadline comes around.

I think the real drawback of writing contests is the lack of feedback for the writer, especially for those starting out. I know that editors are not exactly forthcoming when it comes to commenting on the manuscripts that come across their desk (volume of submissions and lack of time being the main factors). All the same, if an editor likes something but cannot publish it for whatever reason, he/she is more likely to write a couple of encouraging sentences in their rejection. This can mean all the difference to a novice writer who is still trying to find a voice. The one exception of a contest that does offer feedback is the annual Atlantic Writing Competition sponsored by the Writers' Federation of Nova Scotia.

On the whole, I believe a writer's time is better spent regularly submitting their work to magazines.  There may not be much money in it, but building up a healthy publishing history will be useful when you want to send out your first novel or story collection to book publishers.  That said, there are a few competitions designed to kick start a writing career. 

The Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award, which offers two categories, General Fiction and Young Adult, winners to be published by Penguin USA with a $15,000 advance.

Enfield & Wizenty, which offers publication and a $5,000 advance for a novel or story collection.  

The Metcalf Rooke Award, sponsored by Biblioasis, offering publication and a $1,500 advance, plus a regional tour, for a novel or story collection.

Scriptapalooza, a screenplay competition where semi-finalists and up have their scripts promoted for a full year.  

The best part is that, with the exception of Scriptapalooza, all these competitions have no entry fee.  Of course, there can be only one winner (runners-up notwithstanding).  Whichever way you decide to go: Good Luck!]]>Steven MayoffWriting LifeInternet2010-08-29T15:52:13-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/da7165ba2309a194a6ceda31933500b8-46.html#unique-entry-id-46http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/da7165ba2309a194a6ceda31933500b8-46.html#unique-entry-id-46From Survival To Recovery: Growing Up In An Alcoholic Home as part of my research for a play I have been working on.  I had written two drafts of the play as a one-act and brought the last draft to a playwriting workshop with Daniel MacIvor at the Great Blue Heron Workshop in July.  Although my characters were recovering alcoholics, I hadn't done a lot of research into what recovery entailed, believing that my play was about something else entirely.  But discussions with Daniel opened my eyes to an aspect of my characters' experiences that I was overlooking.  That made me rethink what I was trying to say and brought me to the realization that I probably needed to write this as a full-length play.  It was obvious that I also needed to do some research.  

I have to admit that research does not come easily to me, although I tend to always recheck things on the Internet (facts, spelling, etc) even if I'm writing an email to a friend.  During the ten years that I was working (on-and-off) on my novel, research only occurred when I was stuck at some point.  If I was trying to describe a character's childhood in early 20th century Poland, I realized that I needed to do some surfing on the Internet to see what I could find.  Since I was writing fiction, my research was mostly to lend some kind of authenticity to my narrative.  Accuracy, on the other hand, was not necessarily guaranteed.  In my heart I always expect that if/when this novel is published, there will be a reader who takes me to task about some historical inaccuracy in my story.  Will it matter?  To some, yes, especially if they lived in Poland in the early 20th century or know someone who did.  To others, I expect (hope?) they will excuse a few factual errors if the story is compelling enough.

There are writers who do not do their own research, leaving that aspect of the work to paid assistants, unpaid spouses or (if they are famous enough) star-struck interns or students. My wife, Thelma, who also acts as my in-house tech support, webmistress and proofreader, can find her way around the world wide web much easier than I. She could probably take care of all my research needs if I asked nicely enough. Still, as inept as I am, I think it is important for me to do my own research.  Sometimes it comes as a nice respite from the uphill battle of trying to fill the blank screen.  More often than not, actively searching for something online has yielded an interesting bit of information that adds to my understanding of a character or takes their story arc in an unexpected direction. 

Most of my research takes place on the Internet, although the book I am reading came from a local library.  Even though I am going to do as much research as I can before starting the next draft of my play, I know at various points in the writing I will have to stop to check or recheck some bit of information so that I can at least restore my confidence that I know what I'm writing about.  What I once saw as continuous interruptions in the course of my writing, I now realize are lifelines cast into the murky waters of theme and subject.  The common dictum for writers is: write what you know.  But many writers (myself included) tend to write what they don't know.  We understand that if there is no journey for the writer there will be none for the reader. ]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2010-08-26T22:42:03-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/3839740dec981e153103ce60d51a5513-45.html#unique-entry-id-45http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/3839740dec981e153103ce60d51a5513-45.html#unique-entry-id-45
In the first story, third person allows me to present the POV of both father and son.  The tone is more expansive and takes in their relationship from a farther and more objective perspective.  From there I can move in a bit closer to show how one sees the other and the two characters' differences and similarities.  The story starts specifically from the father's POV, but ends with the son's, giving the story a generational arc. The ending also has a coming-of-age feel that segues well into the second story.

The second person POV of the second story makes it less obvious that we are reading about the same character.  Clues are eventually dropped that identify the character (his name doesn't come up until about halfway).  As I mentioned in an earlier post, the second person POV can be used as first person once removed, which is the case here. The effect is meant to be disturbing (confirmed to me by the reaction of some of my fellow workshoppers) and to emphasize the character's personal crisis: his feeling of disassociation from his own life. He has a bizarre experience with a ringing pay phone, where the person on the other line (a distressed woman speaking Yiddish) does not seem to hear him. This incident is used to play around with the idea of disassociation, almost turning the tables on him, and, ironically, connects with him on a deep emotional level.

I'm hoping that the magazine will accept either story, as they stand well enough on their own. But in a perfect world the editor would accept both stories and publish them back to back in the same issue.  The probability of that is very slim, but maybe I'll catch a break and the editor and I will share the same POV and be on the same page, so to speak.]]>Steven MayoffFamilyPEIPersonal2010-08-24T21:54:12-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/ccf8753abe860f122b2777e0ab4f55af-44.html#unique-entry-id-44http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/ccf8753abe860f122b2777e0ab4f55af-44.html#unique-entry-id-44
I suppose it began when Thelma and I first moved to the Island.  We were in Charlottetown looking around inside a store (can't remember the name) that had various home items and quaint bric-a-brac.  There Thelma found a rather handsome menorah and purchased it.  I had not lit Hannukkah candles for many years, but we started a tradition of doing so that December.  Thelma, who is not Jewish, quickly added such Jewish fare as latkes, rugelah and kasha varnishkes to her already considerable culinary repertoire.  Later on, when we visited Royal Glass Design in Stratford, PEI, which creates a lovely collection of Judaica, we purchased a beautiful glass mezuzah to affix to our door post as a wedding present to ourselves. On a visit to Montreal I purchased the requisite parchment, which must be inserted in the mezuzah in order to give it the power to keep out evil spirits.

But what I think really forced me to think about my Jewish identity was the fact that PEI has no synagogue (the nearest temple of worship being in Moncton).  I hadn't set foot in a shul since my bar mitzvah, roughly 30 years earlier, and had never shown any inclination to during the whole time I lived in Montreal and Toronto.  Add to that the difficulty of purchasing Hannukkah candles and even a decent box of matzo on PEI, despite the diverse ethnic products to be found in the Atlantic Superstores.  Thankfully, one can purchase Montreal bagels at Brighton Clover Farm in Charlottetown.  

I eventually did discover that there is a good-sized Jewish community across the Island, whose members take turns celebrating the Jewish holidays at each other's houses.  Although I have received invitations to join these celebrations, I have never done so.  Interestingly, when I attended the Jewish Literary Festival in Hamilton, Ontario last year, I did go to a shabbos service in a shul, and felt a strong sense of community there.  That seemed to disappear soon after I left Hamilton, so my Jewishness seems to have a mind of its own and makes its presence felt whenever it pleases.  

The real paradox about living in PEI is that my status as being "from away" is what makes me feel at home here.  A sense of belonging and not belonging at the same time.  In the depths of my convoluted imagination I can imagine PEI as being my very own Promised Land.  Maybe I connect the Island's "redness" to the literary tradition of portraying Jews as having red hair (watch out Anne Shirley!).  I expect this concept will find its way into my fiction sooner or later.  As for my own private Diaspora, my sister's final resting place will no doubt be somewhere in England. And mine... well, I have my eye on a few places.  I like to think there's still plenty of time to make a decision.]]>Steven MayoffWriting LifeWorkshops2010-08-22T18:04:45-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/98731a134319b9c6b5dddc4131254874-43.html#unique-entry-id-43http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/98731a134319b9c6b5dddc4131254874-43.html#unique-entry-id-43
The Seawords workshop in Charlottetown, aside from having fine writing instructors, also boasts sessions with a bona fide literary agent all the way from Toronto.  Jackie Kaiser from Westwood Creative Artists was the resident agent at both Seawords workshops, counseling writers on the vagaries of getting published in the real world.  The irony that her sobering perspective of the business side of the writing game was available to us in PEI put a smile on my face.  You see, according to Jackie, admitting you live on the "gentle island" is enough to turn off any agent or publisher in Toronto.  I can confirm this with my own brief experience of being represented by an agent, who informed me that I lacked a Toronto presence (despite my considerable Internet presence, which seems to be de rigeur  for writers these days). 

The question that keeps popping up in my mind is to what degree should a workshop maintain its innocence and be only about the writing rather than the career?  Jackie worried that her honest and often bleak portrayal of the book industry, such as it is these days, was casting a pall on the overall good vibes of the workshop. On the other hand, her critiques of the query letters that some of us submitted addressed both writing skills and career aspirations. In general, I felt that having access to her brand of expertise proved to be invaluable.  Her presence, as far as I'm concerned, set the Seawords experience apart from other workshops.  

I assume that most of my fellow participants felt the same way, but it is also important to realize that not everyone who attends writing workshops is necessarily interested in a writing career.  Many already have other careers. I have met many doctors, teachers and, on one occasion, a minister.  Others are just there to satisfy their own curiosity about writing.  For those who want to network with professionals, there are many seminars and literary festivals specifically designed for that purpose.  At Word On The Street in Halifax I participated in an event called Pitch The Publisher, where writers can pitch their book ideas to a panel of publishers.  Opportunities abound for those who are seeking them.

The best one can do is to respect the overall spirit of whatever workshop one is attending.  There's usually something for everyone.]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2010-08-20T19:29:48-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/b9a04f53761cef6ed67af9284cffd310-42.html#unique-entry-id-42http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/b9a04f53761cef6ed67af9284cffd310-42.html#unique-entry-id-42ReLit Award, making it to the semifinals in Scriptapalooza and becoming accepted in a mentorship program.  That, of course, doesn't stop the rejection emails from coming in to keep me grounded.  In my last post I mentioned the sound poetry group The Four Horsemen, which reminded me of the first rejection letter I ever received.  That's because it was from former Horseman, the late bp nichol. 

It was 1983 and I had just made my first attempt at prose.  It had started off as a memoir about a part of my childhood spent in Glasgow, Scotland. As I wrote, I realized there was much I couldn't remember and so I just made up stuff to fill in the blanks, thus my first piece of fiction was born.  I had recently read Coming Through Slaughter by Michael Ondaatje and decided to adopt his prose style, which consisted of oddly broken sentences.  My version of that style didn't look or feel like any kind of short story I had ever seen. In fact I was too embarrassed to think of it as a story at all, so I sent it to magazines as a prose poem.  I didn't even know what a prose poem was. I thought it was something I just invented.  I sent it out with a few other more conventional poems to a few different magazines (knowing nothing about the protocol of submitting).  

What I received was a hand-written (and signed) rejection letter from bp nichol (whom I had heard of).  He was guest-editing the next edition of Poetry Toronto. He didn't like any of the other poems I submitted, but was quite impressed with Glasgow and praised it highly.  Unfortunately, he felt he couldn't publish a piece of prose (poem or not) in the magazine and wished me good luck.  I still have the letter to this day and will always cherish it.  In retrospect, this was my initiation into being a real writer.  I have received quite a number of rejection letters and emails praising the quality of my submission and rejecting it for publication, often in the same sentence.  Like many writers, I have a file of rejection and acceptance letters (I have long since stopped saving them) that I look through now and then.  

They say you have to develop a thick skin to deal with the constant rejection.  Maybe so, but it still sometimes stings, even after all this time. Rejection always seemed to be part of some kind of test to see how serious I was about being a writer.  My remedy for rejection is to look at what I had submitted, make any changes that I deemed appropriate, then send it out again, preferably that same day. I have to confess that I'm a bit of a submission junkie. It's those rare acceptance emails that give me something I obviously crave (acceptance, I guess). The actual publication often feels like an anticlimax. It is also good to view submitting your work as merely a part of the ebb and flow of the creative process, with rejection being a necessary phase of the turning tide.  Look who's getting all philosophical now.

By the way, that prose poem, Glasgow, was eventually published in the Malahat Review. My very first professional publication. They paid me $25.  I later realized that if I had had the guts to submit it as a piece of fiction I would have been paid more. Live and learn. Of course they never accepted anything I have submitted to them since.]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2010-08-18T13:36:48-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/ab2479a2f0d353a29c386b909c65c17a-41.html#unique-entry-id-41http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/ab2479a2f0d353a29c386b909c65c17a-41.html#unique-entry-id-41Bad Romance and its nonsense intro "Rah rah, ah, ah, ah, Gaga, ooh la la" (my favorite part of the song) got me to thinking about the fine tradition of nonsense lyrics in popular songs.  Whether it's Sinatra crooning “scooby dooby doo” or Sting crowing “da do do do de da da da”, words without meaning seem to tell us more about our language than anything Noah Webster could have catalogued.

In the fifties nonsense lyrics were a language unto themselves. I remember seeing a clip of Steve Allen, when he hosted the Tonight Show, reciting the lyrics to Be Bop A Lula in an effort to show how low the craft of lyric writing had sunk.  A prolific composer himself, Allen obviously had a personal axe to grind.  And yet, to my young ears, it sounded like a new kind of hipster poetry (Allen also famously played piano behind Jack Kerouac's poetry recitations).

Literature has a great tradition of nonsense with Lewis Carroll and Edward Lear, to name the most obvious.  I remember reading an interview with the poet W. S. Merwin where he talked about making up words in his poems, such as the verb "spartle", which I believe is similar to scurry. Personally I link my own fascination with nonsense words to my fascination with poetry, in particular the mystery of meaning. The problem that the general public seems to have with poetry is that they don't understand it.  In school it is taught to them like some kind of math problem that they have to figure out (or at least it was in my day). But my own love affair with poetry came about because I didn't necessarily understand what the poet was trying to say, yet the poems seemed to speak to me on a higher (or perhaps lower?) level than mere meaning.  Dylan Thomas (my favorite poet) was often criticized that his poems had more music than meaning.  I wonder if any composer (maybe Wagner?) was ever told that their compositions had more meaning than music?

Another good example is sound poetry. My only exposure to it was hearing a recording of the Four Horsemen (bp nichol, Steve McCaffery, Paul Dutton, Rafael Barreto-Rivera), but it opened up my ears to the possibilities of nonsense and how the language can be stretched into a different kind of meaning. When I attempt to write poetry, which I don't do often enough, I try to connect to a part of myself that needs to express something beyond words, similar to a musician, I suppose, but using words. Maybe I should start to develop a nonsensical vocabulary.  There is already such a rich tradition to draw from whether it be The Four Horsemen or Lady Gaga.]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2010-08-16T19:03:51-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/f6a4fe672d37df29b6b4cbf4c1fe6d38-40.html#unique-entry-id-40http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/f6a4fe672d37df29b6b4cbf4c1fe6d38-40.html#unique-entry-id-40
Naturally this has given me pause to reflect on all the writing instructors I've encountered over the years.  My first was Richard Cumyn, an excellent fiction writer with a new collection (The Young In Their Country published by Enfield & Wizenty) coming out soon.  It was Richard who once demonstrated to me the hard work of revision by cutting 1,200 words from one of my stories (I had already cut out 800).  It was a harsh lesson (which Richard recently told me he feels bad about), but it helped me to see the difficult choices I was expected to make if I wanted to be a serious writer.  By the way, I never felt Richard was being purposely hurtful, but rather an agent of integrity, and that he believed in me enough to not treat me with kid gloves.  

Another fine mentor was Anne Simpson, with whom I workshopped poetry and fiction (she being equally accomplished in both disciplines). Anne had a way of lighting a fire under me that gave my workshop experiences a real sense of urgency.  When I brought her a few poems, she immediately zeroed in on one that she felt was almost there and gave me some interesting suggestions to improve it.  Then she told me I had to work on it that evening so it would be ready for me to read publicly the next night.  When I brought her a short story written in third person, she talked about using second-person in poetry and how it could bring a new perspective to fiction.  Her explanation that second person was merely first person once removed gave me a whole new perspective on the story.  Anne always pushed me to push myself harder, for which I am grateful.

There are other mentors I could name: Anne Compton and Sue Sinclair for poetry, Alistair MacLeod for fiction (twice!), Daniel MacIvor for playwrighting. All my mentors gave me the benefit of their unique talents and experience, but their most important gift was the spirit of generosity. I always felt as if they were treating me like one of their own, a member of the tribe.  If I can pass that much on to whomever I mentor, I'll consider my work done.]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2010-08-15T17:57:37-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/e2b27be66487f545fd0fff158231248a-39.html#unique-entry-id-39http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/e2b27be66487f545fd0fff158231248a-39.html#unique-entry-id-39Matilda Magtree deals with the subject of how and where we sit when we write.  It's an interesting question.  Some writers thrive while seated on something hard like a kitchen chair or a wooden stool. I suppose the austerity of such a seat helps them focus their thoughts.

Others, like myself, figure if they are going to spend so much time at their keyboards, they might as well be as comfortable as possible.  I have two chairs in my office: a comfortable office chair at my desk and an armchair that flips back with an extending foot support.  Any chiropractor would most likely be horrified to see how I settle into the armchair in an almost supine position, with my lap top balanced between my abdomen and thighs.  I know it's a bad habit, but I feel relaxed.

This is where I normally surf the web, write emails, do crossword puzzles, etc, while the office chair is where I do more focused writing (such as this blog post), fiction, poetry, revisions, etc.  But it isn't a hard and fast rule. Depending on my mood, I might feel that spreading out in the armchair is more conducive to typing the first draft of a story or revising the umpteenth draft of a poem that's been fermenting in my hard drive for months.

And even when I'm in my office chair, I'm not necessarily sitting erect. Like my friend Carin, I often sit with my legs crossed or with one leg tucked stork-like under mon derriere.  Which begs the question, how do these various positions affect the creative process?  I tried sitting on an exercise ball once and all I could concentrate on was the ache in the small of my back.  I expect if I gave it a week or so the pain would have gone away and I would be happily balancing on it, to the benefit of my posture, while deathless prose rippled effortlessly from my fingers (as if that ever happens).

Many writers, due to severe back problems, write while standing. I like that idea, except for the fact that I often pace around the house or go for a walk while I'm thinking of something. If I stood while typing, I assume I would fall into a natural rhythm of walking away and returning to the keyboard. Would this reduce or increase my output? I guess I'll have to try it some time.

So, what's your position on writing positions?]]>Steven MayoffScreenwritingWriting Life2010-08-14T19:53:30-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/4ac8aea1bcc9e7e67bc3cfc87c660964-38.html#unique-entry-id-38http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/4ac8aea1bcc9e7e67bc3cfc87c660964-38.html#unique-entry-id-38Fatted Calf Blues on the Inktip web site where, for $60 (USD), it will sit for six months in hopes of attracting a producer or agent or manager.

But before I could upload the script, I had to come up with a log line, one or two sentences that encapsulate the story in such a way as to make the prospective producer want to read the - Outline!  That has to be no more than a page and must tell the story in more detail, but not so much as to confuse them, because the outline will become the essence of their "pitch" to backers.

First off, I have to give props to my new pal, Patti Larsen, first for steering me toward Inktip and for giving me some valuable help on my log line. The cool thing about Inktip is that I can check in and see how many people have read my log line and outline.  Every six months I have the chance to rework my log line so as to attract more readers.

As for my outline, well, it looked good to me. My wife also thought it was good (and I value her opinion). Inktip (and other film insiders) suggest showing it to as many people as possible, just to see if it is a coherent story. Distilling a 100 page screenplay into a single page, as much of a pain in the ass as it is, can be quite beneficial to a writer, as you get to see the essence of what you have written. If you are lucky enough to get a meeting with a producer, you will have to "pitch" your story in no more than ten minutes. That's about one page worth of story with a minute or two to spare.  It's good practice.

And I get to do it all again with my novel.  At this past Seawords workshop, Toronto literary agent Jackie Kaiser critiqued query letters that we submitted before the workshop.  A query letter, either to a publisher or agent, must have an introduction, a synopsis of a few paragraphs and a bio.  The letter can be no more than one page, although two is acceptable.  The introduction and bio are easy (for me anyway). It's the synopsis that is killer.  My novel is 370 pages long and I get a measly three or four paragraphs to wow the prospective publisher.  During my personal writing time I revised (and revised and revised) my query letter, and was very lucky to have Jackie look at it. She sent me a marked-up copy and now I will be working on that.

A 370 page novel in a few paragraphs. Distill my beating heart?  Maybe I should have titled this post "Abridged Too Far."]]>Steven MayoffWriting LifeWorkshops2010-08-13T19:33:48-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/e2bcacbc783483de59501994ebe02966-37.html#unique-entry-id-37http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/e2bcacbc783483de59501994ebe02966-37.html#unique-entry-id-37
If you’ve attended a workshop then you’ll know that they are basically summer camp for writers, but I have come to think of them as being my education.  In July I attended my sixth consecutive Great Blue Heron Workshop, where I received the Ultimate Participant Extreme Writer Award.  I was greatly touched. It is the closest I will ever come to receiving some kind of diploma.

And so I have come to the decision that I am graduating from the world of writing workshops. It's not a particularly easy decision. I know that when I receive the brochure for the 2011 GBH and it says that Michael Ondaatje (or whoever) will be giving a workshop, I will be quivering inside and ready to send my application in. But I won't.

Instead, I have been looking for opportunities to impart some of my hard-won wisdom to beginning writers. I have submitted my name to an upcoming mentorship program here on PEI and applied for a writer-in-residence opening that will be coming up in Newfoundland. I have no idea whether I'm actually qualified for either of these positions or if I will get them, but it feels as if I have turned a corner in my life as a writer and this is a new path I should at least try to follow. We'll see where it leads me.]]>Steven MayoffWriting LifeScreenwritingFatted Calf Blues2010-08-12T21:28:06-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/3f40757d7f0ff0da9ad85a5c4085fb54-36.html#unique-entry-id-36http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/3f40757d7f0ff0da9ad85a5c4085fb54-36.html#unique-entry-id-36Fatted Calf Blues screenplay read. One of these is Inktip, a website where you can upload a screenplay to be read by producers. I am still investigating how to make this website work for me, so I’ll post more as I learn about it.]]>Steven MayoffNewsWorkshopsWriting LifeFatted Calf Blues2010-08-12T20:47:53-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/43f3c51128a4e4b973b3d230e3256b6d-35.html#unique-entry-id-35http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/43f3c51128a4e4b973b3d230e3256b6d-35.html#unique-entry-id-35It's been a while since I last posted.  In fact, since last year I have been quite derelict in my blogging duties, which I plan to rectify.  But I also promised myself that I will keep things short and sweet (or acerbic, as the mood strikes me).

Did two workshops this year.  In July it was the Great Blue Heron in Antigonish, where I did a playwriting workshop with Daniel MacIvor.  I took a one-act play called Hair Of The Dog, which is about a fifty-something recovering alcoholic who decides to have a bar mitzvah as a way of connecting to a higher power.  By the end of the week I realized that I needed to expand it into a full-length play, so that is what I will be doing for the rest of the year.  

In July I attended the Seawords workshop here on PEI.  My instructor was Christy Ann Conlin, with whom I got on like the proverbial house on fire (apt because her partner, James, is a volunteer firefighter).  We had a great group and I made some friendships that I think will last well beyond the workshop.  The other instructor was Erika Ritter, who I also got to know a bit. A funny and engaging woman, I look forward to staying in touch with her.

I will have more to say about both these workshops in future posts.

There has been some eventful writing news as well.  My screenplay adaptation of my novella Fatted Calf Blues is a Top 100 Semifinalist in the Scriptapalooza competition.  Although it did not advance further, the good news is that all the screenplays, from semifinalists up, will be promoted for the next year by Scriptapalooza.  I assume they will get sent around to film industry insiders in LA, which makes this competition unique.

The other huge news is that my book Fatted Calf Blues has been long-listed for the ReLit Awards, which are specifically for books published by small presses. It was a shock to see my book on the list because it came out in April 2009 and I assumed it would have been eligible for the 2009 awards.  When it wasn't on that list I just assumed it had been passed over and that was that. So, even if it doesn't go further than this I'm pretty happy that the book got some recognition a year and half after being released.]]>Steven MayoffWriting LifeDim Sum2010-07-09T22:21:51-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/6040bca219a038f0c0daa3c40e06d6cd-34.html#unique-entry-id-34http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/6040bca219a038f0c0daa3c40e06d6cd-34.html#unique-entry-id-34

In 2009 I won the WILDsound One Page Screenplay Contest where the prize was having my script turned into a short film.  They did one better and made two films and now you get to vote which film is better.  Go here to watch both films and cast your vote.]]>Steven MayoffFatted Calf Blues2010-01-22T13:59:05-04:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/7082a7f8315f90e966b8b485e160c8c8-33.html#unique-entry-id-33http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/7082a7f8315f90e966b8b485e160c8c8-33.html#unique-entry-id-33Fatted Calf Blues from the Winter 2010 of The Malahat Review.



]]>Steven MayoffDorian2009-08-23T15:10:04-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/d4923068bf6f497bed1ebda0a65f0216-32.html#unique-entry-id-32http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/d4923068bf6f497bed1ebda0a65f0216-32.html#unique-entry-id-32Dorian is a rock musical that Ted Dykstra and I began writing in 1987 or 88 (I can't quite remember).  I wrote the libretto and Ted wrote the music. It is loosely based on The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, which has been adapted widely for stage, screen, radio and just about any other medium you can imagine.  Our version is a rock musical that takes place from the 1960s to the 1990s.

The characters are somewhat based on the ones in Wilde's story.  Dorian (single name only) is a young scruffy hippy who is transformed into a male super model by an agent, Rhonda Westgate (a female version of Lord Henry Wotton), after fashion photographer, Norman Pearl (a thinly-disguised Basil Hallward), takes his photograph.  Norman's assistant, Rose (standing in for Sibyl Vane,) is Dorian's doomed love interest.  The cast of characters is rounded out by the Portrait, who has some of the best songs (in my opinion).  

This project has had a long and tortuous history, including workshops and performances at the Blythe Festival, Video Cabaret, the Tarragon Extra Space and St. Anne's Church (Dundas & Dufferin).  At one time there was even a New York producer interested in the show (due to the success of a show Ted had created with Richard Greenblatt called 2 Pianos, 4 Hands, which played off-Broadway and in London's West End).

In all, Dorian went through umpteen various incarnations and rewrites right up to 1997 or 98 (again, I can't quite remember).  I have quite a number of cassette tapes and a CD of demo recordings created in Ted's various home studios, McClear Pathe Studios and live performances.  A web site was created by our friend, Stephen Caswell, who also put together a CD (comprised of some of the McClear sessions and live performances), which can be purchased on CD Baby. 

Dorian has been pretty much dead as a door nail for the past ten years.  Every now and then I listen to the CD and am still mostly impressed by the level of song writing (you can listen to samples at either DorianRocks or the CD Baby page).  For the most part I have been happy to let Dorian rest in peace, rationalizing to myself that some things are not meant to be. Nevertheless, the last time Ted and I met (in June), we talked about trying to drum up interest in a concert version of Dorian.  This recently led me to look at the last script we put together from our last workshop performance.

Having just finished a draft of my novel and looking over the other writing projects I have planned, I felt a sudden urge to revise the Dorian script.  Ten years is certainly enough time to look at a piece of work with "fresh eyes" and it was very clear to me what I needed to do to streamline the script so that every song pushes the narrative forward.  I suppose the past ten years I've spent plying my craft as a fiction writer may have had something to do with it, too.  The chance to revisit this work-in-progress has reinforced a long-held belief that there are no short cuts through the creative process.  I know Ted has always harboured the belief that Dorian will have its day at some point.  Who knows if that will happen?  Still, I can't get a bit of lyric that runs throughout Dorian out of my head: 

Beauty to its beholder 
will never really die 
as time passes him by
quicker than the eye. ]]>Steven MayoffFatted Calf BluesWriting Life2009-08-13T15:14:46-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/1489fdf0b9e671043aa6453211f9bdc6-31.html#unique-entry-id-31http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/1489fdf0b9e671043aa6453211f9bdc6-31.html#unique-entry-id-31Been a while since I showed my face around here, so it's nice to see that not much has changed. The last time I checked in I was about to head off to the Great Blue Heron Workshop.  Normally when I go to GBH I take an Acadian bus to Antigonish, which is a four hour journey and entails changing buses at Amherst and again at Truro.  This year a pal of mine, Liza (or just Za, whom I met at the Seawords workshop at Brackley Beach here on PEI last year) was driving there and taking the ferry to boot (Yay!) ,so I offered to help out with gas and we rode together.  Much more pleasant than the bus and Za is a fun traveling companion, very easy going and interesting to talk to.  I actually ended up paying for us to get on the ferry, which is cheaper than the round-trip bus ticket, so it all worked out quite well.

As usual, GBH was a great week.  I was in Alistair MacLeod's fiction group (my second time working with him).  He actually remembered me from last time, remembered one of the stories we worked on then, and even remembered (much to my embarrassment) that I had inadvertently commented (half-jokingly) that he had “control issues” with his characters.  We had a good group of writers and our sessions together were pleasant and fruitful.  My one-on-one session with Alistair was also very encouraging.  He liked the story I was work shopping and had only a couple of minor suggestions for improvement.  He even asked if I would submit it to The Windsor Review (of which he is the Fiction Editor).  I've been published twice in that fine magazine.  After I've done my revisions on the story I may submit it to The New Yorker (which I try every now and then, being the cock-eyed optimist that I am).  No doubt I will be rejected by them yet again and will most likely end up sending it to the WR.  I guess that sounds like I'm settling for second-best or something, but I don't mean it that way at all.  I just think it is important to submit my work beyond the normal purview of my publishing experience.  I'd like to think Alistair would agree with me on that.  Of course, I would be more than happy to have my work appear once more in The Windsor Review.

In the middle of our week we had a free day and I had arranged to do a reading at Frog Hollow Books in Halifax.  They had recently moved from their location at Park Lane Mall to a new store nearby on Brenton Street.  It was a very cool and funky little space. The owner, Heidi, was very welcoming and had a nice little set up with Fatted Calf Blues displayed prominently.  Three people I know showed up and it was nice to catch up.  I read a couple of stories, which garnered the attention of some of the walk-in traffic and resulted in a couple of more sales.  I was really hoping that I would be able to go back and read at Frog Hollow some time in the future, but I am sorry to report that they are closing their doors permanently (after 25 YEARS!) near the end of August.  A very sad state of affairs indeed.  

I also brought copies of FCB to display at the Great Blue Heron book table and actually sold around eight copies.  

When I got back home it was time to get down to brass tacks and finish my novel so I could get it to my agent before the end of her reading period (after which she is very busy).  That is the reason for my recent absence from this blog.  It was quite a haul, but I did finish the draft a few days ago and then had to read it over to clean it up as best I could and make a few revisions.  Let it not be said that my agent wastes any time.  When I was done I emailed it to her at midnight and the next morning had got some early feedback on my first chapter.  There were some compliments and some criticism, accompanied by a heavy edit of the chapter attached to the email.  I thought the edit was quite good (my agent has many years of experience as an editor}. Now she is reading the rest and I expect to hear from her shortly, no doubt with some other changes that need to be made.  

Other than that, I'm looking forward to tackling the pile of books that I've been ignoring while I've been writing the novel.  Of course, I have a number of other writing projects on the back burner.  I think the next thing I will work on is a screenplay adaptation of my short story, The Most Important Man In The World (the opening story in Fatted Calf Blues) for a short screenplay competition. After a novel, writing in a different format that I can finish relatively quickly will be a nice change of pace.  A change is as good as a rest, as they say.]]>Steven MayoffWriting LifeFatted Calf Blues2009-06-28T20:37:00-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/247629741196048b423908b42bf59d08-30.html#unique-entry-id-30http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/247629741196048b423908b42bf59d08-30.html#unique-entry-id-30Before I get this entry started, I must rectify an omission I made in my last entry.  When I wrote about my time in Hamilton I neglected to mention that I stayed for two nights at the Inchbury Inn, which is a wonderful bed & breakfast run by Doug and Solange Trudel.  Those of you who read this blog know that I tend to stay at B&Bs when I'm traveling and have written about many of the terrific places I've stayed at.  I am happy to say that the Inchbury Inn ranks right up there with the best of them for comfort, affordability and all around hospitality.  The inn is really Solange's baby and she runs it with great care.  Her breakfasts are delicious and her friendly demeanor brightened up the mornings.  If there was anything I needed, she and/or Doug were always happy to help out.

My last night in Hamilton was spent at the home of writer Jean Rae Baxter and her playful terrier Robbie.  Jean has published a few books and is connected to the Hamilton reading series Lit Live, which is how I came to be billeted in her home.  On a free afternoon I had, Jean was happy to drive me around Hamilton to show me some of the sights. We also took a drive to nearby Dundas for the the buskers' festival. 

Since returning home from Toronto and Hamilton, I have been pushing ahead with my novel.  I am under the gun to get this draft finished in time to send it to my agent, whose reading period ends in September. So I have roughly six weeks before the just-under-the-wire deadline and I have to say I'm feeling the pressure.

That said, I am off to Antigonish, Nova Scotia next week for the annual Great Blue Heron Writers' Workshop.  This will be my fifth consecutive year there, which makes me think I should be getting some kind of diploma or something.  I will be in Alistair MacLeod's group (this being my second time working with him) and, as usual, I am expecting a terrific week of literary socializing and work.  Being at GBH, or at most writing workshops for that matter, is much like being at summer camp for writers.  Writing, being the solitary activity that it is, means spending most of the year holed up in my office, so it is always refreshing to meet up with other like-minded souls and share our similar obsessions.  Just call us word nerds but don't call us late for last call.

This year GBH is offering a free day during the workshop week, which happens to fall on Friday July 3rd.  I'm taking that opportunity to make a day trip to Halifax to do a reading at Frog Hollow Books, 1459 Brenton Street (their brand new location), at 2:00 p.m.  Hope to see you there.]]>Steven MayoffFatted Calf Blues2009-06-13T00:17:52-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/fc69c6f206c808a14418ab8d99f3e53d-29.html#unique-entry-id-29http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/fc69c6f206c808a14418ab8d99f3e53d-29.html#unique-entry-id-29I'm back on my favourite red soil once more after two weeks in Toronto and Hamilton.  It was a tough haul shlepping all those books around, but it has also been a lot of fun.

My first day in the Big Smoke I had two readings: the Unionville Library in the afternoon and the Press Club that evening.  Getting to Unionville proved quite easy and fast on the GO bus, a mode of transportation I'd never used in all the 17 years I lived in Toronto.  Finding the library was a bit more problematic. I had been given walking directions, but the lack of visible street signs ensured that I made a wrong turn somewhere. I ended up walking the length of the town's picturesque Main Street.

In a place as small as Unionville one would think a library would be centrally located. Unfortunately, it is well-hidden, but after about 30 minutes and many requests for directions from the local townspeople I finally found it. An audience of seven were in attendance (more than I expected) and a fully engaged group they were.  For almost a full hour I read them stories and talked about the creative process.  They asked intelligent questions and some even bought copies of the book.  Well worth the walk.

That evening I was one of three writers on the bill for the Pivot Reading series, which is held every two weeks at the Press Club on 850 Dundas Street West in Toronto.  One of the other readers was rob mclellan, an Ottawa poet who has one of the most amazing blogs that features interviews, book reviews and general literary news.  He has sent me one of his on-line interviews, which I filled out.  I gave him a copy of Fatted Calf Blues to review.  I expect both review and interview to appear soon.

The reading itself went well.  I opened with Home, James, which I felt didn't go over so well, but my second offering, Phone Booth, a story I had never read in public before, really hit the mark.  It is a first person narrative of a stalker waiting in a phone booth across the street from the girl of his dreams and I felt almost like I was improvising the text as I slowly found his voice: erratic and obsessed by the object of his desire.

That weekend I was in Hamilton for the Jewish Literary Festival.  All the festivities took place at the Temple Anshe Shalom, starting with a Shabbos service on Friday night where, in between the prayers, poets read their work. I had not been to a synagogue service for many years, but found myself following along in the siddur  and happily trying to sing along.  Later, Steven Stern, a writer from the southern US, gave a talk and some of the others read from their works.

The two festival organisers, Lil Blume and Ellen S. Jaffe, put together an anthology called From Sinai To The Shtetl And Beyond: Where Is Home For The Jewish Writer?, which was also the theme of a panel discussion on Saturday afternoon as well as the running theme of the whole festival. Some writers had workshops or readings. I went to hear Charlottetown writer, J. J. Steinfeld read from his new book, Word Burials.

On Saturday evening there was the launch of the anthology. Klezmer singer Allan Merovitz sang and taught everyone some Jewish dances.  I read the poem I submitted to the anthology, Half A Poem, and received many wonderful compliments.

On Sunday I gave a talk called Turning Family History Into Art, during which I read my story The Two Annes, an excerpt from my novel-in-progress and two poems.  The talk was attended by an audience of 5 (again, more than I expected) and a lively discussion ensued.  My Hamilton visit concluded with a reading at the Lit Live series at the Sky Dragon Centre.

Back in Toronto, the last reading on my itinerary was the Toronto Fatted Calf Blues launch at Scratch Espresso Bar, which is owned by two good friends, Hans Wontorra and Eden Bender.  It was a terrific launch where many friends from various times in my life -- from high school to the present -- were in attendance to help me celebrate my first book.  It was a very special evening and having all these friends from the past and present bear witness made me feel like I had truly arrived.]]>Steven MayoffFatted Calf Blues2009-06-01T18:02:56-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/0bfad0bff740480247c9d8e63d8b9058-28.html#unique-entry-id-28http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/0bfad0bff740480247c9d8e63d8b9058-28.html#unique-entry-id-28After two weeks of down time since my Montreal trip (spent mostly recuperating from a cold), I am now ready to embark on the Toronto leg of my promotional tour for Fatted Calf Blues.  It will be a busy time with two readings on my first day - the Unionville Library  at 2:00 p.m. on June 3rd  and later that evening at 8:00 p.m. the Pivot Reading Series  at the Press Club.  Then I will have a free day to see friends and also to finally meet my agent, Denise Bukowski, with whom I signed last year.

On Friday I am off to Hamilton for the Jewish Literary Festival, where I will be reading a poem that will be published in an anthology called From Sinai to the Shtetl and Beyond: Where Is Home For the Jewish Writer? compiled by the JLF organizers, Lil Blume and Ellen S. Jaffe.

On Sunday  I will be reading at a Hamilton series called LitLive, as will some of the other writers who are participating in the JLF.  My second week will be easier, with only the Toronto launch of FCB on Tuesday June 9 at Scratch Espresso Bar at 7:00 p.m.

While I am looking forward to my Toronto trip, I can't help wondering if it is all worth it. Promoting Fatted Calf Blues has been an interesting experience and it has opened my eyes to the hard work that goes into putting together a tour (even one as small as mine) and trying to get a book into the public eye.

The question remains whether I have made any kind of dent at all in the public's awareness of my book.  There hasn't been one review so far, which is disheartening, although I did hear from someone who writes for the Toronto Star who says she will be reviewing the book.  I don't mean to indulge in self-pity, but how can I compete with the promotional machines of the big publishing houses like McClelland & Stewart or Random House?  

That's why I have to take positive signs where I can find them.  I happened to be looking at the web site for the Governor General's Awards for Literature to see when the submission deadline is (not that I don't trust my publisher to keep up on these things, but there is nothing wrong with a writer taking a healthy interest as well.).  After a little navigating I happened to find the list of books that have been submitted (just press the "GO"button)  and there was Fatted Calf Blues near the bottom of the Fiction Category (the list is in alphabetical order by publisher).

Well, didn't that give a jump start to this road-weary heart!  It's a long list and there are books from the big houses and small indies alike, first time authors like myself and veterans of the literary wars with a number of titles under their belts -- all of us on what seems to be an even playing field.  At least I can say to myself that I'm still in the game somewhere.  For the time being anyway.  Until the short list is announced in October.  But that's far off in the autumn and summer is just about to begin.  ]]>Steven MayoffFamilyFatted Calf Blues2009-05-20T10:06:37-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/c362c03bf8732ecb6aa861fc4015345f-27.html#unique-entry-id-27http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/c362c03bf8732ecb6aa861fc4015345f-27.html#unique-entry-id-27Well, here I am back on PEI, sick in bed but happy to be home. My second week in Montreal was filled with family enjoyment and some professional disappointments and triumphs.  There really was only one disappointment and the finger of blame points right at me. The next time I book a reading I will make sure to check the calendar more closely to make sure some other event, such as Mother's Day, will not be occurring!

Such was the case for my Ottawa reading at Collected Works.  It was a cold and windy day when my sister and I arrived in our nation's capitol and we weren't exactly sure where we were going, so we took a bus from the train station and got off where we thought we were supposed to.  But after walking around for a good twenty minutes it was clear that we were lost. Spotting a police cruiser in a parking lot, I went and asked for directions. The cop checked his computer, saw that we were actually not too far from the book store and told us to hop in the back.  Even though there was next to no leg room (due to a large metal casing), my first ride in a police car was definitely a high point of this trip. 

Collected Works is a cozy community-supported bookstore.  They had set up chairs and a podium in their back space.  Alas, had the podium been an omelet station I might have enticed a few Mother's Day brunchers to come hear me read.  As it is, my cousin Florence and her two daughters showed up.  I hadn't seen Florence in years and had never met her daughters, so my initial disappointment was easily assuaged by this familial reunion.  After thirty minutes passed and it was clear the reading was a bust, my sister and I decided to cut our losses by going to the National Gallery, which we enjoyed immensely, before catching the train back to Montreal.  My sister is an avid amateur photographer and loved taking pictures of Moshe Safdie's architecture, as well as seeing the Karsh portraits.  Her favourite (and mine) was the photo of Peter Lorre.

The next afternoon was my interview with a journalist from The Link, Concordia University's student newspaper.  It was a warm and sunny day and I met Pascale Licinio at Cafe Santropol. We sat on the outside patio, where she set up a recorder and proceeded to ask thoughtful and intelligent questions.  It was obvious she had read the book (and liked it, thankfully) and I felt very comfortable chatting with her about my work.  The interview will be published in their June edition.

On Wednesday I read at the Visual Arts Centre.  As with my launch at Casa del Popolo a week earlier, this reading was attended by some of my cousins and one friend who I hadn't seen in years.  It was a long evening with six readers and a jazz trio.  I was the penultimate reader and I must say I think it was one of my better performances.  I read "Smoke And Mirrors", a first-person account of a struggling actress' experience as a stripper, so already the audience had their work cut out for them suspending their disbelief.  But they quickly got into it and laughed at all the right moments.

Before I started, I mentioned that the last time I read in Montreal was when I used to go to open mics at the Vehicule Gallery back in the late seventies. Two women immediately began to laugh and one said I didn't look old enough (bless her cotton socks!).  After the reading a woman came up to me to ask about a character mentioned in the story, a dance teacher named Madame Voronov, and asked if she was modeled on a woman of the same name who had taught at the National Theatre School. I was astonished as she indeed had been modeled on the real teacher, who had given this woman's daughter dancing lessons.  If that weren't enough, the woman's husband was a childhood friend of PEI's poet-laureate, David Helwig.

Thursday marked my very first television interview for the show Focus Montreal, hosted by Montreal news anchor Jamie Orchard at Global Quebec. I had asked my publisher to send Jamie an advance copy of Fatted Calf Blues, but had stupidly supplied them with a wrong address, so she never got to read it before the interview.  But she did read all the on-line info and blurbs, so we proceeded from there.

The interview lasted around six minutes.  I have to say I am not at my most comfortable in a studio environment.  First of all, when you walk in the entire back wall is a screen, enigmatically colored a retina-scarring green. The place looked like in was painted with plutonium.  The interview went along pleasantly enough, and though I tried to speak directly to Jamie, my peripheral vision kept seeing images - such as my face or the book cover - on the monitor.  The following Saturday I watched the interview with my sister, cousins and aunt and uncle. To me, I looked every inch uncomfortable as I had felt, but of course everyone assured me that I had done well.  Isn't that what family is for?  I couldn't ask for a better one.

So the Montreal leg of this promotional tour is behind me.  I sold a little less than half of the books I had brought with me, so I can't complain too much. Photos from the readings can be viewed at the Fatted Calf Blues group page on Facebook where you can also see the promotional video of me reading my story, "Elephant Rock."  Or just go straight to Youtube. 

Now I have a little less than two weeks before I'm off to Toronto.  There I can look forward to two readings in one day, the Jewish Literary Festival in Hamilton,  my Toronto launch, as well as meeting my agent and dinner with various friends.  In the meantime, I plan to do some sorely needed work on my novel-in-progress.  So I'll talk to you next when I'm in the Big Smoke.]]>Steven MayoffFamilyFatted Calf Blues2009-05-06T12:17:28-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/460e8bebbe6aa2a62cf4336a66360155-26.html#unique-entry-id-26http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/460e8bebbe6aa2a62cf4336a66360155-26.html#unique-entry-id-26I have been in Montreal since Sunday, May 3 and it has been quite a whirlwind. My sister, Rena, flew in from England and we are staying at our favorite B&B, Le Gite de L'ecole, which is very close to the Jean Talon Market and Little Italy in the city's north end.  

On Monday, May 4 I had my Montreal launch for Fatted Calf Blues at Casa del Popolo. The reading was slated to start at 5:00 p.m., which probably accounted for the trickle of arrivals, but soon people did show up.  Mostly it was friends and cousins.  The atmosphere was very laid back and it felt more like a reunion (probably because that is basically what it was).  The restaurant is very funky and relaxed.  The stage had a sofa and some armchairs on it, which made the whole reading feel very intimate, like being in somebody's living room.  That of course had a good effect on my performance and I felt quite relaxed.

Photos of the reading can be seen on the Fatted Calf Blues group page on Facebook, where you can also view a video of me reading my story "Elephant Rock" (filmed at North Cape, PEI).

My sister and I did a bit of wandering around the city already and our dance card has filled up quickly. We are seeing cousins and friends and taking a day trip to Ottawa on Sunday, May 10 where I will be reading at the book store Collected Works at 2:00 p.m.  During my second week in Montreal I will be doing an interview with a reporter from the Concordia student newspaper, The Link , reading at The Visual Arts Centre, May 13 at 7:00 p.m. and appearing on Focus Montreal on Global TV.

I'm already feeling a bit frazzled from the schedule, so I better learn to pace myself. We are going to a poetry reading tonight and to a club to hear some music on Friday.  I'll be posting more about my visit, but first I better get a quick nap in.]]>Steven MayoffFatted Calf Blues2009-04-26T22:57:23-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/457f30cb1532db6b8db73812f6ed606c-24.html#unique-entry-id-24http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/457f30cb1532db6b8db73812f6ed606c-24.html#unique-entry-id-24Last Thursday, April 23rd was the official book launch for Fatted Calf Blues at the Confederation Centre Library in Charlottetown.  I'm pleased to report that it went reasonably well.  About 20 people showed up, a respectable showing.  I was grateful to see some writers whom I have come to know. Considering that I live so far from Charlottetown and feel relatively disconnected from the literary scene there, I very much appreciated the show of support.  

After being introduced, I was surprised to find how nervous I felt.  The strategy was to talk about the book, the disparate nature of the stories and what connects them as a collection, how living on PEI has influenced my writing, where the stories come from and using my own personal experience as a springboard into fiction -- all the while reading excerpts from the stories to prove my point.  It was not as successful as I had hoped it would be.  I wrote a small speech, which I had on the podium in front of me with salient parts highlighted.  As much as I tried to speak "off the cuff" I kept finding myself with head craned over the podium, constantly referring to my notes so as not to lose the thread of theme.  In short, it felt like a disaster, although people were very nice about it.  More successful, I think (and everyone's compliments confirmed this) was the actual reading of the excerpts.  I like reading in public and I believed this showed in my delivery. I chose to read excerpts because I was afraid of boring the audience with a whole story.  

I now realized my mistake lay in not playing to my strengths and misjudging my approach.  Rather than talking about influences, themes, etc. and reading excerpts to show examples,  I should have chosen a story, read it in whole and then talked about influences, themes, etc.  A rookie mistake,and one I hope to rectify in the upcoming launches and appearances I will in Montreal, Ottawa, Hamilton and Toronto.]]>Steven MayoffFatted Calf BluesPEIFamily2009-04-19T16:39:26-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/9f4fef7b23bc3b2713abcb7eaf64bd41-23.html#unique-entry-id-23http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/9f4fef7b23bc3b2713abcb7eaf64bd41-23.html#unique-entry-id-23The Fatted Calf Blues machine is starting to roll and there seems to be a lot of elements I have been juggling to promote the book.  

I did an interview on the CBC Radio One Charlottetown afternoon show Main Street with Matt Rainnie.  This was my second interview with Matt and I think it turned out well.  Matt is very friendly and laid back and knows how to put his interviewees at ease.  All the same, I have a tough time listening to myself (like many people do, I think) and find it's easy to be self-critical when I hear how I stumbled over some answers or felt I could have been more concise.  I could also hear the nervousness in my voice (which tends to pitch a bit higher under stress). Before going into the studio, I sat in the car and listened to Jian Ghomeshi on Q interviewing Leonard Cohen.  I can only hope that someday I can approximate the Cohen’s eloquence and wisdom. 

While I was in Charlottetown I saw copies of Fatted Calf Blues on the shelves of The Bookmark. It made this whole experience all the more real for me like nothing else has so far.  I also saw posters for my upcoming book launch at the Confederation Centre Library on April 23rd (Canada Book Day) at 7:00 pm.  I have to admit I'm feeling nervous about it.  First of all, I'm wondering how many people will show up even though there has been a bit publicity so far with the CBC interview and a nice mention in The Buzz. Thelma and I put together a media release and faxed and emailed it to various newspapers, radio and TV stations.  No responses yet, but hopefully something will happen closer to the time.

I'm also constantly working out in my head what to say at the launch, what points I want to make about the stories, the process of writing them and getting them into a book, how PEI has helped shape my writing, etc.  Also, I keep changing my mind about which story or stories to read.  One long one or maybe a couple of the shorter ones? Thankfully I have decided to limit myself to 20 minutes, so that should help me decide closer to the time.  The one thing I am looking forward to is the food.  Thelma and her mom will be making sandwiches and baking brownies, cheesecake squares and cookies.  

Thelma and I also put together a small promotional video of me reading a postcard story called Elephant Rock, at North Cape (where the story takes place).  It was fairly chilly the day we shot the video. We did two takes of me reading the story with different backgrounds and then Thelma shot some footage of North Cape.  When we watched it all at home, it was obvious that we couldn't use the audio, so I recorded the story on Garageband.

When it came time to mix the video with the audio, the elements didn't all sync up as well as we would have hoped.  In fact, if it weren't for Thelma's editing skills (she is by far the Thelma Schoonmaker  of home made videos) it would look a lot worse than it does.  As it is, I think it has a kind of rough charm all it's own.  We had a few issues with finding the proper format in which to save it (again solved by Thelma's resourcefulness) and will be uploading it (as soon as we can access some hi-speed) onto Facebook (as a virtual launch) and on YouTube.  I doubt that it will go as wildly viral as the performance by Susan Boyle on Britain's Got Talent, but I do hope it garners some modest attention and helps promote the book.

Putting together the video seems to me symbolic of the whole promotional effort for the book. There are a lot of elements to sync up, all of which Thelma and I have been doing to the best of our ability, but what it all adds up to in the end owes as much to luck as anything else.]]>Steven MayoffFatted Calf Blues2009-04-07T22:01:32-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/9945d8b6786c3ac773d4d6aaaaca44b0-1.html#unique-entry-id-1http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/9945d8b6786c3ac773d4d6aaaaca44b0-1.html#unique-entry-id-1When I was first sending out the manuscript for Fatted Calf Blues I received many rejections.  A few publishers commented that, although well written, the stories did not hang together as a collection.  I struggled to understand what they were talking about.  I assumed they meant that a group of stories should have some kind of common link.  It made me self-conscious about the disparities between my stories.  For example, they take place in different locales. Some, like Phone Booth, are distinctly urban, while others, such as Elephant Rock, have a rural setting. There is also the matter of style. The Bridge By Moonlight is told as a relatively straightforward narrative, while Home, James has the much more surreal quality of a recurring dream.  I couldn't help but feel defensive about the collection.  Why was it necessary to have some kind of facile connection to justify this particular grouping of stories?  Wasn't it enough of a common link that they were all written by me?  In fact, I believe the eclectic quality of these stories is what holds them together as a collection.

Perhaps I'm not the only one.  According to the Turnstone Press home page, Fatted Calf Blues is currently near the top of the Turnstone Top Ten. Although I'm not entirely sure how the top ten is calculated, I do know that it is related directly to sales. 

Nevertheless, it seems that eclecticism is somehow equated with commercial and artistic failure. Perhaps it has always been thus, but  those of us who grew up in the sixties  remember listening to commercial top ten radio where one could hear Johnny Cash followed by B. B. King followed by Tony Bennett. Twenty years later radio became much more compartmentalised with narrowly specialised stations popping up everywhere.  I also remember that when the Beatles' White album came out it was seen as an artistic oddity because of the eclectic nature of the songs.  The individuality of the four members' personalities seemed to be the focus rather than their strength as a band.  And yet, when I listen to it now, I marvel at how distinctive they were as a group because of those different personalities.  

The usual pattern for emerging writers is to put out a story collection as a kind of introduction or calling card and then "graduate" to the more lucrative novel.  And yes, I am working on a novel. Even so,  I have recently written a few new stories.  Some have their origins in material that has been excised from the novel-in-progress.  I can't imagine not writing short stories.  Who knows, maybe my next collection will have a more cohesive theme unifying it.  Possibly a novel constructed as a series of connected stories.  That seems to be particularly in fashion these days.  Call me fashionably unfashionable, but I'm more attracted to the unpredictability of a grab bag of stories that could fit anywhere and nowhere.]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2009-03-30T22:15:56-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/e30ff48251b85dffc5f31d15a75ac0db-2.html#unique-entry-id-2http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/e30ff48251b85dffc5f31d15a75ac0db-2.html#unique-entry-id-2The big news with writers around the world is the Google Book Settlement.  If you haven't heard, Google has the rights to digitize published or out-of-print books from before January 5th, 2009 and will make them available on the web.  Writers can claim ownership of their works by going to www.googlebooksettlement.com and setting up an account.  They will receive a one-off settlement of at least $60 per book and will then be poised to receive future profits from Google's efforts to sell their works as downloads or print-on-demand.  Just how much the writer will make off each download or p.o.d. is unclear.

The writer also has the option to opt out of the settlement when setting up their account on the web site.  Opting out won't necessarily stop Google from digitizing their books, but they then will have some kind of grounds on which to sue Google. Good luck with that.

Writers are being advised to stay in the settlement, the wisdom being a crappy deal is better than no deal at all.  But we don't know what the deal is yet so here's hoping...

When I set up my account on the web site I searched for my upcoming book, Fatted Calf Blues, that won't be available in stores until April 15.  Lo and behold, there it was on the web site.  Of course I won't be getting any $60 one-off deal, but who knows what the future holds.  I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that it was on their site, since it has been listed on various book selling web sites such as Amazon and Chapters/Indigo since January.

A little more disconcerting for me was to find a poetry chapbook I self-published in the late 1970s called With My One Free Hand, which is catalogued in one of the Dalhousie University Libraries. How it got there is beyond me, considering I lived in Montreal when I published it.  Since Google has approached pretty much every library to digitize books, I shouldn't be surprised to see my modest first effort pop up on their settlement web site.  Nevertheless, I couldn't help but be reminded of the Borg sucking up every scintilla of human existence.  I know that sounds alarmist, but I'm a writer and prone to dramatization.

But here's the real thing that's bothering me.  I'm not particularly proud of that chapbook.  I was in my early twenties when I wrote those poems and was eager to see my name and my efforts in print.  While I can excuse youthful exuberance, frankly those poems embarrass me now.  In fact, they kind of embarrassed me then too.  I remember when I first got them back from the printer, I was at home having lunch when my father came into the kitchen.  A copy was sitting on the table and I pointed it out to him.  To my surprise he sat down and read the whole thing -- all ten pages of it! --  right then and there.  I watched, mortified, from behind my sandwich as he slowly turned the pages with a serious expression.  What felt like hours, but was more likely fifteen minutes or so, passed before he put it down and proclaimed in a sober voice: "I think I understand what you’re trying to say."  Then he got up and left.  I suppose it could have been worse.

I don't even own a copy of that chapbook.  Now that my first book of stories is about to be published, I keep hearing from friends who still have a copy of that chapbook.  I cringe a bit, but feel relieved that only a select few will be able to see my sophomoric scribbling.  At least I used to feel that relief until this whole Google thing.  Now everyone might be able to see the freaking thing.  Typical writer's vanity, you say?  Guilty as charged.  I remember reading that, before his death, Mordecai Richler was trying to buy up every copy of his first novel, he was that embarrassed by it.  No such luck here.  I don't know if anyone will ever want to see those poems or how much money Google will pay me for making them available to the public.  I'm pretty sure, though, that, no matter how much, it won't be near enough.]]>Steven MayoffPersonalTechnology2008-03-21T19:45:09-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/78244510a56b2c4ecced403d08b0d6d6-3.html#unique-entry-id-3http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/78244510a56b2c4ecced403d08b0d6d6-3.html#unique-entry-id-3
We've built this site using a great program called RapidWeaver, which lets ordinary folks create pretty websites without having to know very much about the behind-the-scenes magic . But it's only for Macs - sorry PC.]]>Steven MayoffWorkshops2009-03-23T22:37:32-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/5c2add671e18ee10b3b30d4f0f87bffb-4.html#unique-entry-id-4http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/5c2add671e18ee10b3b30d4f0f87bffb-4.html#unique-entry-id-4Anyone who has read past entries on this blog or checked out my writing history on this site knows that I am a writing workshopaholic.  Every year I attend at least one workshop, and quite often two.  My first was the Maritime Writers' Workshop in Fredericton, NB in 2004.  I have participated in the Great Blue Heron Writing workshop at St. F.X. every year since 2005 and I have applied again this year.

I go to workshops for various reasons.  Since I never took any kind of creative writing course, I consider these workshops a form of continuing education where I can bring an early draft of a story, poems or even a film script that would benefit from some outside feedback to help bring it to the next level.  Workshops have also been one of the few places where I meet other writers, and I have kept in touch with some of these folks long after the workshops are over.  At their best, workshops are like summer camps for writers, a rare opportunity to work and socialize at the same time.  

Having benefitted from being in workshops with some of this country’s best writers, I often wondered how I would do as an instructor.  Well, this year it looks like I am going to get my chance and frankly, I'm pretty nervous about it.  

In June I will be reading at the Jewish Literary Festival in Hamilton, Ontario. The organizers, Lil Blume and Ellen Jaffee, are putting together an anthology of Jewish writing called From Sinai To The Shtetl And Beyond, to which I have contributed a poem.  The invitation was originally for me to read at the launch for the anthology during the festival.  In the course of my communications with Lil and Ellen, I was informed that some of the other writers would be giving workshops and was asked if I would like to do one too.   Although it was by no means mandatory, I figured this was my chance to see what a workshop would be like from the other side.

The big question was what would my workshop be about and did I really have anything to teach other writers?  After a little more back-and-forth with L & E, I found out that my workshop should take the form of a talk that might lead to a writing exercise, depending on how many actual writers were in my audience.  My publisher had suggested to me that I expand my repertoire by working on my ability to talk about my writing as well as giving readings.  I recognized here was a good opportunity to do just that.  It was decided between myself and L & E that I would read a story from Fatted Calf Blues called The Two Annes, which is about an artist who uses his talent to deal with personal loss, and talk about that process.  I would then move the talk to my own experience by discussing the novel I am working on, which uses some of my family history.  For a big finish I would ask the participants to turn a true event from their lives into a piece of fiction.

It all sounds easy enough, but on the inside I'm biting my fingernails to the quick.  Will anyone actually show up?  Will I be able to deliver the goods?  All will be revealed in June, if I don't die of nervousness first.]]>Steven MayoffPEIWriting Life2009-03-13T15:24:59-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/b372281faf9fcb9036888431dc7cdc78-5.html#unique-entry-id-5http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/b372281faf9fcb9036888431dc7cdc78-5.html#unique-entry-id-5I recently submitted an ad to The Buzz, Prince Edward Island’s arts and entertainment newspaper, to promote my upcoming book launch at the Confederation Centre Library on April 23rd. In the ad I referred to myself as "Island writer, Steven Mayoff."  It made me wonder if I had the right to call myself such.  I'm not from the Island, although I have been living here since 2001.  I have been writing since high school, but it wasn't until I moved to PEI that I focused on my writing in earnest and began to send out work on a regular basis.  I believe I can say with all sincerity that I came to PEI to establish myself as a writer.

But anyone who lives here knows that if you weren't actually born on the Island you will always be considered "from away", no matter how long you live here.  I suppose I could have used the phrase "Resident Island Writer", but that seems to undermine the commitment I've made by moving to PEI as the place where I am establishing my identity as a writer.  The interesting thing is that I am quite content with my "from away" status, even though I expect to live on PEI for the rest of my life.  I believe a writer should be something of an outsider and that part of his/her integrity benefits from being on the outside looking in.  In a way this made PEI the perfect place in which to launch my writing career.  You could say I feel very much at home being from away.

There is no denying how much PEI has influenced my work.  The moment I moved here I was struck by the beautiful landscape and immediately began incorporating it in stories and poems.  In my upcoming collection, Fatted Calf Blues, the stories have both rural and urban settings.  The first story, The Most Important Man In The World, is set on a streetcar in Toronto.  The sense of isolation in the streetcar proves to be a crucible for extreme human behaviour.  Living on an island is a bit like that.  In fact, isolation seems to be a factor in most of my stories, both urban and rural. Perhaps an argument can be made that everyone on PEI -- those from "here" and those from "away" -- have something of the "outsider" in them. In that case I feel justified in wearing the title of "Island Writer" and will continue to do so with pride.  ]]>Steven MayoffWriting LifeTechnology2009-03-07T16:12:02-04:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/db5ecde4c25d71606cd1e7354ec39ff7-6.html#unique-entry-id-6http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/db5ecde4c25d71606cd1e7354ec39ff7-6.html#unique-entry-id-6I dropped my laptop a couple of days ago (I can practically hear the collective gasp).  I was in Charlottetown, taking advantage of the free wi-fi in the Confederation Centre and had been packing the laptop up when it slipped out of my hands ("Oooohhh nooo!" I can hear you cry).  So naturally I took it to The Little Mac Shoppe, the only authorised Apple service centre on PEI.  It looks like I need a new hard drive and I’ll be getting a larger one, which is nice.  It is still uncertain if they will be able to retrieve the info from my old HD.  I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Although I try to back up my work as often as possible, I never think of backing up my emails or my address book.  I can't really ponder the possibility of losing that stuff at the moment. I'm already a bit freaked out by the whole thing and I'd prefer to try to think positively.

Thankfully I had backed up in early February, so I didn't lose too much work. In fact, I have been preoccupied with setting up readings for myself in Montreal and Toronto, so I haven't really done much work on my novel.  I suppose procrastination has turned out to be a lucky break for me, although, in my defense, I have been obsessive about Googling bookstores, libraries, various media, reading series, colleges and universities and anywhere else I think I might have a shot at reading in public.  As it stands now Fatted Calf Blues will have an official launch in Charlottetown on April 23rd and a Montreal launch at Casa del Popolo in Montreal on May 4th.  My other Montreal gig is at the Visual Arts Centre on May 13th.  So far the only Toronto reading is at the The Press Club on June 3rd, then two readings in Hamilton (where I will also be leading my first workshop, but more on that in an entry-to-come).  I'm still looking for a venue for a Toronto launch.  I'm hoping for the Drake Hotel, although there are other possibilities.  The full list of readings is on my home page and will be updated as dates are confirmed.

The whole process of setting up readings for myself has pushed me to make connections with the literary communities of PEI, Montreal and Toronto.  As much as some writers complain about having to promote themselves, I'm finding this aspect of being published quite useful and interesting.  I tend to think of it as a natural extension of the publishing process, as much as publishing is a natural extension of the creative process.  It is certainly a nice antidote to the hours one spends alone writing (although I like that too).  But in retrospect, I see the dropping of my laptop as a kind of punctuation to that process of self-promotion.  A full stop.  And something of a wake-up call.

At first I felt cut off at the knees (and still do to some extent), but now I realize this is my opportunity to get back to the novel.  While my computer is in the shop I am using Thelma's iBook.  Of course she has been very good about letting me use it whenever I need to, but I am very aware of using somebody else's machine.  It is a weird, tentative feeling and it will be interesting to see how it might affect my writing.  Sometimes I wonder if I should switch to longhand (I've tried that before), but it has now hit me where I live (so to speak) how much my laptop has become an extension of myself.  What once felt like a luxury -- being able to move paragraphs around, researching on the Internet, etc  --  is truly an integral part of my creative self.]]>Steven MayoffPEIWriting LifeFatted Calf Blues2009-02-27T04:32:51-04:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/ea3f2b14d48d86b615ce237b0378c7a5-7.html#unique-entry-id-7http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/ea3f2b14d48d86b615ce237b0378c7a5-7.html#unique-entry-id-7A couple of days ago it was my birthday. Having a birthday in February is a double-edged sword.  On the one hand, it's a nice break in what is arguably the most depressing month of the year.  On the other hand, if birthdays depress you then you feel just that bit deeper in the hole.  It is not that getting a year older depresses me, but around this time I'm not at my best.  I feel I'm in some kind of creative, emotional and even spiritual deep-freeze, a period of stasis where my life has come to a standstill. The new year never really starts for me until March or April.

This year, I'm happy to say, has been an exception for the most part. Preparations for my upcoming book are keeping me busy and I've been trying to come up with creative ideas for promoting it.  Also, I'm working on revising a novel, so there has been a lot to occupy my thoughts with little time to feel sorry for myself.

The icing on the birthday cake, so to speak, came actually the day before the big event when I received a phone call saying I had won the One-Page Screenplay Contest  I had entered in 2008.  The contest is a continuing one put on by WILDsound  in Toronto.  The winner gets their screenplay made into a short film that is posted on the WILDsound web site and shown at some film festivals.  I was also interviewed for the WILDsound podcast.

I am also trying to book live readings to promote Fatted Calf Blues.  I will be having a book launch in Charlottetown on April 23 and so far have two readings in Montreal in May and two in Hamilton in June. The details for these readings are posted on the home page of this web site and on my FCB Facebook group page.  

Things seem to be happening fast and I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a tad overwhelmed at times, but I look out my window and see the frozen white expanse of Foxley River and think that in a few months I'll hear that tell-tale crack when the ice starts to break.  In the meantime, an early thaw seems to be taking place even closer to home.]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2009-02-20T21:59:08-04:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/bb9854f7e290ddfd23a479c19dd55124-8.html#unique-entry-id-8http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/bb9854f7e290ddfd23a479c19dd55124-8.html#unique-entry-id-8
Unfortunately, I sound like a wannabe Oscar Wilde, but those two statements reflect how I see writing stories.  Not that these statements are original thoughts.  No doubt I heard them, or something like them, written or spoken elsewhere, although I couldn't tell you by whom.  The question that has been nagging me these days is: where do the two -- the craft and the art -- meet?  

I once saw an interesting film called Storytelling, where one of the characters, a creative writing teacher, says "Once you start writing, it all becomes fiction."  (I once used this quote as the basis for a poem).  The context of this statement relates to a story one of his female students has written.  The story is a recounting of a humiliating sexual experience she had with this particular teacher. The teacher says that the story is not bad, but not great, to which another student says, in the story's defense, that it is true.  The teacher's response  "Once you start writing, it all becomes fiction"  can be seen as some kind of lame defense for his sexual encounter with the student.  Or maybe it's a comment on how memory is selective at best. Personally, I believe that memoir or autobiography should be classified as a form of fiction.

That quote immediately resonated with me.  In it I recognized a universal truth. Perhaps the innate need for all of us to tell stories.  But in telling stories, in crafting fiction, do we have a certain responsibility to the truth?  I heard someone once say that good fiction carries with it a facsimile of truth.  The reader has to believe -- or suspend his/her belief -- that what lies on the page is real.  

Writers achieve this in different ways.  Some do it through research, particularly if they are writing historical fiction, although most genres of fiction probably require some amount of research. Some do it by trying to create a feeling of immediacy in their prose, evoking the five senses wherever possible, so that the reader believes he/she is experiencing what is on the page.  

So, what is the actual kernel of truth that is found in these well-crafted lies?  Some illumination of the human condition? Something that tells us we are not as different from each other as we believe?  Maybe it's the understanding that (to paraphrase the famous Jack Nicholson line) we can't handle the truth.  We prefer to be lied to.  We'd rather have the comfort of knowing that it's "just a story."  Maybe, without knowing it, we indulge in these entertaining illusions so that we might know ourselves better.]]>Steven MayoffWorkshopsWriting Life2009-02-14T15:34:50-04:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/930d1abf6323bcca34aee7992651032d-9.html#unique-entry-id-9http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/930d1abf6323bcca34aee7992651032d-9.html#unique-entry-id-9It's been quite a week.  On Monday I attended a day-long workshop given by the Writers' Union of Canada  called “From Desk to Bookstore: Making the Leap to Writing as a Career.”  It was a very good workshop and covered a variety of topics: getting published in magazines and books for both fiction and non-fiction (very different  because non-fiction involves much more querying and story pitching than fiction), agents, the editor/writer relationship, contracts, etc.

Although I learned quite a bit, I was also able to contribute some information, including a couple of web sites that are excellent resources for publishing in magazines.  One is www.placesforwriters.com which lists links to web sites for magazines in Canada and abroad, as well as offering updated calls for new work and contests.  The other is Duotrope's Digest, an ingenious search engine where you fill in the on line form with details like the genre and length of your submission (as well as other particulars) and -- Voila! -- you are immediately presented with a list of magazines and links to their submission pages.  I have published most of my work using both of these resources.  They are indispensable to any writer.  In the interest of giving credit where credit is due, I should mention that both of these web site were brought to my attention by J.J. Steinfeld, a fine fiction writer and poet in Charlottetown. 

As much as I enjoyed the workshop, I have to admit its title gave me pause for reflection.  I never really imagined writing to be my career.  As a matter of fact, although I have been writing on and off for most of my adult life, I rejected the possibility of making it my career.  At the risk of sounding somewhat pretentious, I would have to say, if anything,  I saw it more as a "calling" rather than a "career."  I guess by that I mean writing was something I came back to every so often, mostly as a way to vent frustration, in the course of trying to discover who I was and what I should be doing with my life.  In that way it seemed to be choosing me, rather than the other way around.  It wasn't until 2001, when my wife and I decided to move to Prince Edward Island, that I made the conscious decision to focus solely on my writing with the hope of eventually making it my livelihood.

So, in making this choice, was I also making the transition from "calling" to "career"?  I'm not sure what it is about the word "career", but it somehow implies a sense of conformity and also a limited shelf life.  After all, doesn't one eventually retire from a career?  Whereas "calling" carries a different kind of weight, a sense of destiny that suggests a life-long commitment.

This week I also had the opportunity to reconnect with one of my high school teachers.  His name is included on the page of acknowledgements in my book.  When I was his student I asked him what one needed to do to be a writer.  He looked at me soberly and said that to be a writer one needed to suffer.  Sounds a bit harsh and I have to admit his reply frightened me.  In retrospect, I believe he was telling me that I had to go out and experience life, the joy as well as the suffering, before I could ever write in earnest.  It's only now, when I look back on my life, that I realize that was exactly what I did, that all my years of drifting from job to job and trying to discover my place in life, were somehow preparing me for the writing life.  In my own circuitous way I was answering the call.  Careering toward my career, you might say.

But the big news of this past week is that I finished the last round of copy editing before Fatted Calf Blues goes to print.  I reread the fourteen stories for what felt like the millionth time and listed the last of the changes I wanted to make.  By all rights, I should be sick of these stories, but in reading them I tried to imagine how other readers might see them.  In a way I was able to experience them with fresh eyes and gain some perspective on their strengths and weaknesses, as well as my own.

So this is it.  It's out of my hands now.  The next time I see my manuscript it will be a bonafide, honest-to-goodness published book.  In the meantime I am dividing my time between devising strategies for promoting the book and revising the novel I have been plugging away at lo these many years.  No matter how you see it -- calling, career or crap shoot -- a writer's work is never done.]]>Steven MayoffWriting LifeFatted Calf Blues2009-02-06T07:04:08-04:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/face5dd77477f21d43fb0447122e57cc-10.html#unique-entry-id-10http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/face5dd77477f21d43fb0447122e57cc-10.html#unique-entry-id-10First of all, a confession.  I stole the above title from myself.  Way back in 2004 the first workshop I ever did was the Maritime Writers' Workshop at UNB in Fredericton.  I applied to the workshop for financial help and received some from a benefactor to whom I had to write a letter of thanks.  At this workshop I rediscovered my love for public reading and decided to write my thank you letter in the form of an essay in which I realized that reading my work to an audience could be construed as selling myself to them.  Hence the title.  As I wrote in the beginning of that essay: 

It’s a dirty, dirty word. The S word. Selling. It makes one think of everything unsavoury, from unscrupulous travelling hucksters who sleep with farmers’ daughters to ruthless day traders whose only point of reference is the bottom line. For most people there is no chicken soup for the soulless conglomerate.

Maybe a better title for this entry would be "Rebirth of a Salesman" because here it is 5 years later and my first book of stories, Fatted Calf Blues, will be published by Turnstone Press in April.  And once more I find myself in the position of being a salesman.  I have already set up a book launch on April 23rd at the Confederation Centre Library in Charlottetown.  I have also, with the help of Thelma (my wife, web mistress and right arm), created a Fatted Calf Blues group on Facebook and recruited a fair number of members (with hopefully more to follow after the book comes out).  In the future I am planning to create a virtual book launch with videos of myself reading from the book, to be posted on Facebook, Youtube and anywhere else that will have them.  But most importantly, I expect to hit the road and do a few live readings this year, on and off PEI.     

But of course I'm not doing all of this planning and plotting alone. My publisher is going to do what they can to get me into writer's festivals, send out review copies of the book and submit it for any prize and award that it might be eligible for.  Turnstone has been very supportive with helpful suggestions on how and where to promote the book (such as contacting book clubs).  It's surprising where a salesman's leads will take him.  

I suddenly understood that the people who were able to effortlessly sell newspaper ads or time-shares did so because they actually believed in what they were selling. And now I had something to believe in too. My talent. Myself. 

Now that I think of it, I've been selling myself since I moved to PEI in 2001 and started to write in earnest and send my work out. Part of the creative process includes sending your work out.  If you are serious about your writing then you always have an audience in mind, even if you don't know who they are but if you persevere, one day you may just find yourself having to get out there and meet them face to face.  I'm looking forward to that.]]>Steven MayoffWriting LifeFatted Calf Blues2009-01-09T23:36:12-04:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/abb093aa499bb1931483622e86737322-11.html#unique-entry-id-11http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/abb093aa499bb1931483622e86737322-11.html#unique-entry-id-11Here we are at the end of the first full week at the beginning of 2009.  I have to say it's been a sluggish start, but then again that's how it is every new year.  In fact, for me the new year doesn't really start until March when the first stirrings of spring make themselves felt.  April will be particularly auspicious for me because that is when my first book of stories, Fatted Calf Blues, will be released by Turnstone Press.

These days I have been struggling to return to my novel (I was at it great guns last October and November, then hit a bit of a wall in December) while trying to make some preparations to promote Fatted Calf Blues (researching writers' festivals and other potential gigs).  I did manage to set a date for my book launch, which will be at the Confederation Centre Library in Charlottetown on April 23rd at 7:00 pm.  But on the whole I feel like I've been spinning my wheels.

Then imagine my surprise when I discovered (thanks to my wife, Thelma, who keeps me apprised of these things) that Fatted Calf Blues can now be pre-ordered (for a substantial discount) at Amazon.ca and Chapters.Indigo.ca.

Spinning wheels or not, I guess this thing is starting to roll.  CHEERS!]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2008-12-29T22:33:53-04:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/1d9631cb5e91451ca00f96f1a78c5a3a-12.html#unique-entry-id-12http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/1d9631cb5e91451ca00f96f1a78c5a3a-12.html#unique-entry-id-12Well, the year is almost up. And not a moment too soon.  There are a lot of things I could write about for my last entry of 2008, but I think all those subjects have probably been covered already.  So I'm going to make a personal request.   

I recently entered a One-Page Screenplay Contest and became one of ten finalists.  All ten screenplays were given live readings and the videos of these readings have now been posted on-line.  The screenplay that gets the most votes will be made into a short film.

So please have a look at the reading for my screenplay, The Dim Sum of Its Parts, and vote for it, thus making my cinematic dreams come true.

Other than that, party safely this new year's eve and all the best in 2009.]]>Steven MayoffWriting LifeFatted Calf Blues2008-11-22T16:43:26-04:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/fa0c4561b919e0706c623843f785afe7-13.html#unique-entry-id-13http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/fa0c4561b919e0706c623843f785afe7-13.html#unique-entry-id-13My publisher, Turnstone Press, sent me the cover for my upcoming book of stories, Fatted Calf Blues, to get my opinion. I have to admit I loved it on first sight. It was not what I had expected, which was definitely part of its appeal. In fact, earlier on I had been asked if I had any suggestions for a cover image. My initial idea was a cow skull, like a Georgia O'Keefe painting,  which, paired with my title, appealed to my dark sense of humour. 

But the image that my publisher chose - a chrome exhaust pipe jutting up from an eighteen-wheeler - is a fitting one. The title story takes place at a truck stop in Manitoba and some of the characters are truckers. The whole sense of life reflected in the chrome exhaust pipe that the photo depicts seems apt. It is a striking image that I think will garner some attention. Whether it actually helps sell the book is another matter.

I buy books mostly from the remainder bin in the larger chain stores or at second-hand shops. I usually buy them based on the author - either someone I have read before and enjoyed or have read about and am curious to find out more. Or I buy them based on the title, from having read a review or recommended by a friend. But it is rare that I have ever bought a book based on the cover design. It may very well have happened, but my memory is either failing or too embarrassed to provide an example. 

Which isn't to say that I am immune to the allure of a good cover design or haven't been influenced by one. That was more the case when I used to buy record albums back in the day. And to a lesser degree CDs, later on in the day. Album art has since been lauded for its own aesthetic worth, but it has also been immortalized as being intrinsically connected to the music inside. When you think of Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band  you immediately envision that immortal history of pop culture collage on the front as well as the kaleidoscopic music inside. Unzipping the blue jeans on the front of the Sticky Fingers  jacket (revealing a pair of tighty whiteys inside) is as much a part of the music listening experience as hearing Keith Richards' opening chords to Brown Sugar.

Maybe it was the size of the record album that made the cover art so appealing. CDs don't really do the trick for me. Perhaps that is why the cover for a book, while important, will never reach the status of art in itself. Who remembers the cover for the first edition of The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz  or Under The Volcano? And even if you do, chances are the copy you buy today will not feature the same cover design. This is especially true if the book has been made into a hit film. Then the cover will feature whatever image helped sell the film. The book then becomes, in a way, subservient to another medium. A way of saying, "If you liked the movie you just might like this lesser facsimile of typed words on a page." 

But I'm one to talk. I've already written a screenplay of Fatted Calf Blues. And if it actually gets made into a film I may just see my original concept of a cow skull on the poster. And, God willing, maybe even on the cover of a future edition of the book. 
]]>Steven MayoffPolitics2008-10-15T15:15:04-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/b6c8113f290bbf72921bfc7d06cdb26c-14.html#unique-entry-id-14http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/b6c8113f290bbf72921bfc7d06cdb26c-14.html#unique-entry-id-14Well, here it is, the day after the election, and we seem to be back to where we started: with a minority Conservative government. For those of us who did not want to see Stephen Harper back in power there was much debate as to whether one should vote with their conscience or vote strategically. That is to say, should you vote for a party whose values most coincide with your own, even though that party might not get enough seats to make an impact, or should you vote strategically, which would mean voting for a party you don't necessarily believe in purely to shut out the Conservatives?

Throughout the campaign I was conflicted about which way I was going to go. What bothered me most was the widely-held opinion that voting with my conscience would be the same as "throwing my vote away." I felt I was being told that my vote was worthless unless I didn't pull with the rest and do my part to keep Stephen Harper out. I wanted to see Tories ousted as much as the next person, but there was something about strategic voting that rubbed me the wrong way. I remembered how it had been an issue during the last election in the U.S. The contention there was that if you voted for the independent candidate, Ralph Nader, even if you agreed with his policies, you would be splitting the Democrat vote, which would allow George Bush back in for another four years. In essence you would be wasting your vote. 

The way I saw it, strategic voting meant voting out of fear, rather than voting for who I felt best reflected my values. The idea of voting out of fear seems to go against the democratic spirit of having an election in the first place. I have no idea how many Americans voted "strategically" in their last election, or how many Canadians did the same yesterday. All I know is Bush was re-elected then and now we have Mr. Harper back with another minority government. 

In the end, I have to confess that I did vote strategically, rather than with my conscience. My wife contends that they could both be seen as the same thing. I believe she has a point. And who knows, perhaps my strategic vote helped to stop Mr. Harper from coming back with a majority, which was his reason for having this election in the first place. 

Which brings me back to the concept of the "wasted" vote. Apparently, voter turn-out yesterday was lowest it's been for many years. I think something like 49% of Canadians didn't vote. I'm sure they had their reasons. And while I don't agree with not voting as an option, I'm beginning to see the temptation of going that way. Now here comes the part of our electoral system that I (like many Canadians, I think) just don't understand. It is the way that a party can get a certain number of votes and still not get a seat in parliament. The lack of proportional representation.  If voting for the party of your choice doesn't actually bring them any closer to being able to represent your values, then I can fully understand the futility someone might feel in casting a vote at all. 

I recently discovered a web site called Fair Vote Canada and will have to give it a closer look to see if I can understand the whole issue better. But it is obvious that the system we currently have is not representing us fairly. When it does, maybe we will see more people exercising their right to vote.]]>Steven MayoffWriting Life2008-09-25T21:01:08-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/2e23c014e8613fd75ff193b9866184f5-15.html#unique-entry-id-15http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/2e23c014e8613fd75ff193b9866184f5-15.html#unique-entry-id-15These days I am waist deep in editing the stories for my fiction collection, Fatted Calf Blues, which will be published by Turnstone Press in 2009. I had heard that this could be a seemingly endless process. I have also been told that some editors have a knack for helping you take your manuscript to another level. I'd have to say that both of these statements are true in my current experience. My editor at Turnstone is Wayne Tefs, who has written a number of books himself. I don't know how common that is in publishing houses, to have a published author as an editor. Possibly it is more common in the smaller independent presses. But so far it is working out for me. 

Wayne's initial notes to me were marginal and had mostly to do with verbal tics, which are words or phrases that keep cropping up in my writing. Most writers have verbal tics of some sort. For example, I tend to often use the words "just" and "practically." I use them just in the normal course of writing, as I would when speaking, practically  without thinking about it. The process of weeding these out of my prose can be tedious, but having to scrutinize my work in so menial a fashion allowed me to discover other verbal tics that Wayne had not mentioned. It also gave me the opportunity to reassess and address story problems. I was surprised by how many changes I made through my own observations. The result is a new-found confidence in myself as a writer.  

But this whole editorial process is far from over.  Right now I'm taking a break from round 2. When I am done with Wayne, I will be working with Sharon Caseburg in copy editing, which deals with style and the look of the text. For instance, I tend to use North American spelling such as "organize" instead of "organise", which is the British spelling. But Turnstone's style is to use British spelling, so I will be combing the stories once more to rectify that problem.  During this whole process I have been using the tracking device in Microsoft Word, which I had no idea about before. Sharon has been very helpful (and patient) in explaining how to use it. Now that I have the hang of it I can see how it can benefit the early stages of working on a story. 

By the way, Sharon is also a poet. I believe everyone involved with running Turnstone are also writers. One thing she asked me to think about is questions for book clubs. I had no idea what she was talking about, since I have never belonged to a book club. But she showed me examples on the Turnstone web site. Basically they are questions used to incite discussions. Apparently having questions by the author is helpful when selling packages of a book to libraries or schools. I was stymied at first, but once I started thinking up one question I couldn't stop and ended up staying up all one night. The interesting thing about coming up with these questions is it makes you look at your work differently. You have to think about it more objectively, as if it is somebody else's work. And then you begin to see patterns emerge regarding themes, settings, characters, etc. I found it most illuminating.     

I'm happy to say that everyone at Turnstone Press, not only Wayne and Sharon, but Managing Editor, Todd Besant, and Associate Publisher, Jamis Paulson, have been encouraging and supportive. It's been a terrific experience so far.]]>Steven MayoffPEIWorkshops2008-08-24T21:08:38-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/f89d2b936ffbe760bef8a7e8483cc2be-16.html#unique-entry-id-16http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/f89d2b936ffbe760bef8a7e8483cc2be-16.html#unique-entry-id-16This past week I attended the inaugural SeaWords Writing Workshop, which was sponsored by UPEI and the L.M. Montgomery Institute as a way of celebrating the 100th anniversary of the publication of Anne of Green Gables. The theme of the workshop was "Canada's Women Writers" and this theme held true in the choice of faculty. Writers Anne Simpson and Carol Bruneau led us budding wordsmiths in group and one-to-one sessions. Usually workshop groups are divided by genre (fiction, poetry, non-fiction, etc.), so it was not only refreshing but stimulating to have mixed groups of fiction writers and poets. I brought an excerpt of my novel, but since I also write poetry, I was interested in seeing how poetry influences prose and vice versa. I was in Anne's group and since she is a poet and novelist herself, she kept referring to this cross-pollination during our group sessions. In fact i had once taken a poetry workshop with Anne and came out of it with two publishable poems, so I was eager to see what would happen with fiction. I can't say I came out with a publishable piece, but it did change drastically in the rewrites I did during the week and I know what I have to do to get it into a publishable state. 

Playwright and novelist Ann-Marie MacDonald was a guest speaker who first wanted to know why we were at this workshop and engaged us in a lively discussion on why we were motivated to write. While she spoke candidly about her journey as a writer, she also expressed curiosity about us. A natural performer, she was very charming and entertaining. 

One of the things that attracted me to this workshop was the opportunity to meet Jackie Kaiser, a Toronto literary agent with Westwood Creative Artists, who spoke to us at length about various aspects of the publishing business. The cliched image of an agent as hard-nosed and cold-blooded doesn't seem to fit Jackie. Although I probably wouldn't want to go toe-to-toe with her in a high-stakes negotiating session, she proved to be very personable and approachable. She even gave all of us her business card. Jackie has much experience behind her as an editor at Penguin Canada. Even though we had a week, there was so much information to impart it seemed as if there was not enough time. We were asked to write "cover letters" as if we were going to submit our work to a publisher. Jackie critiqued some of the letters, which was helpful. But I would have also been interested if she'd gone through some of our stories and given us an agents perspective on our work. As an added bonus we also met and spoke with Lynn Henry, an editor at House of Anansi Press. Most interesting was her explanation of the various structures of novels and how she helps a writer find the best one to tell his story. 

I should also mention that the organizer of the SeaWords Workshop was Amy Kelly. This is not a job to be taken lightly and Amy did an amazing job. I know this because as far as I could see everything ran like clockwork. And if there were problems, I wasn't aware of them. That's when you know an organizer is doing the job right.

But the theme of "Canada's Women Writers" wasn't restricted to the faculty. Out of the 11 writers participating in the workshop only myself and one other were in possession of X and Y chromosomes. Not surprising, since the majority of readers are women; it only stands to reason that they would also aspire to create the books as well. 

The workshop took place at Shaw's Hotel, Canada's oldest family-operated inn. Lunches and snacks were included in the cost of the workshop tuition and they fed us very well. The faculty stayed in the hotel's cottages and some of the participants stayed in the rooms. I live a 60 minute drive from Brackley Beach and since things got started at 9:00 a.m. commuting wasn't practical for me. As beautiful as the hotel looked, I wasn't able to afford it as my accommodation and so opted to stay at the nearby Windsong Farm Bed & Breakfast. Proprietors Cindy and Alan are from Alberta and come to PEI to run the B&B in July and August. They are a friendly couple who showed great interest in the fact that I am a writer and wanted to know all about the workshop. Throughout the week the delicious cooked breakfasts included pancakes, waffles, fried eggs, quiche and french toast and always started with Cindy's freshly baked muffins and scones. Guests all ate at the same table and a general atmosphere of friendly chatter made for a terrific way to start the day. As I don't drive and the walk to the workshop would have taken me around 45 or 50 minutes (which I was perfectly willing to do) Alan generously offered to drive me every morning. Now that's customer service, folks! If you are ever in Brackley Beach, PEI I would heartily recommend staying at Windsong Farm.

And if the SeaWords Writing Workshop goes for a second year in 2009 I recommend you sign up as early as possible.  ]]>Steven MayoffMusicFunMediaMojomatic2008-07-28T21:07:03-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/e899a9792e40567e59d9f8e42e60839f-17.html#unique-entry-id-17http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/e899a9792e40567e59d9f8e42e60839f-17.html#unique-entry-id-17I have entered CBC's Hockey Anthem Challenge, a competition to find a new musical theme for Hockey Night in Canada. The piece of music I entered is called Trance-Sylvania under my  alias Mojomatic. I created Trance-Sylvania using GarageBand, an ingenious program that is standard issue with every Apple computer and lets users combine pre-recorded loops to create music.

Tonight I was interviewed by Bill Van Asperen, a videographer with CBC Charlottetown, who is doing a story on all the contest entrants from PEI. It was a very interesting interview because Bill asked me questions I hadn't thought about before. Essentially, I entered this contest after listening to some of the entries on the CBC web site. It's not that I thought i could necessarily do better than any of those (I quite liked most of the ones I listened to), but I knew I had this piece of music and I thought to myself: why not? I have the technology and I stand as much chance of winning as anyone else.

In fact, I'm not even sure it's about winning as much as it's about just being in the game (how's that for a sports analogy from a non-sports kind of guy!). Bill asked me how I thought technology was impacting the contest because there were over 1200 entries and I told him I thought that he had just answered his own question. I don't think we would have seen this many entries ten or fifteen years ago because the average person just didn't have the necessary technology to create music. In a way it reminds me of the punk movement of the late 70s and early 80s, where anyone could just pick up a guitar, spit out a few lyrics and start a band. As always the cream rose to the top (The Clash, The Jam, Joy Division) and I think the same will now happen with home recording and online music publishing. Those of us who think we are musicians just because we can make music by dragging a few loops into a virtual recording studio are fair game for those truly talented and inspired folks who can take this technology to a whole new level. I don't mind being pushed aside by the competition. I might even learn something.

The other interesting question Bill asked was whether I thought the winning composition could ever be as iconic as the HNIC theme music we all know and love. That theme had become a second Canadian anthem, but it was only written in the late 60s and before then there were other hockey theme songs which were equally iconic for their own time. I remember reading that Dolores Claman, the HNIC theme's composer, had an image of gladiators on skates in her mind while she wrote it. There's something very courageous and romantic - even mythical - about that image, but hockey (nor any other organised sport, for that matter) isn't like that anymore. We know too much about the players' private lives, their salaries, professional disputes, etc. because we live at a time where we have a myriad of facts at our fingertips and keyboards. I think the next theme music for our national game is going to somehow reflect the times we live in. Now I wish I had called my entry  something like "He Googles, He Scores!"]]>Steven MayoffWorkshops2008-07-05T15:03:11-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/f28cd618adb64489e0fc63f909451d96-18.html#unique-entry-id-18http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/f28cd618adb64489e0fc63f909451d96-18.html#unique-entry-id-18I'm writing this in Room 204 of MacIsaac Hall, a residence on the campus of St Francis Xavier University in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. Today is the last day of the Great Blue Heron Writing Workshop. This was the fourth year that the GBH has been in existence. It was also my 4th time here, so I feel like I am a part of its history.

In the first year (2005) I took a poetry workshop with poet/novelist Anne Simpson, who is one of the workshop's organizers (along with Gina Sampson for the first 3 years and Brenda Riley this year). In 2006 I did a screenplay workshop with Sheldon Currie. Last year it was my privilege to be part of a fiction workshop with Alistair MacLeod. And this year I was back in poetry, but this time with Anne Compton.

Why do I keep on coming back to this workshop? For one thing, it is one of the more affordable workshops around. It runs 5 days. This year I paid $660, which included the workshop tuition, accommodations and meals (4 breakfasts, 4 lunches and one dinner). The array of accomplished writers the GBH attracts as instructors, aside from those mentioned above, has included Sue Goyette, Lisa Moore, Madeleine Thien, Daniel MacIvor and Michael Crummey.

But most of all, it is the commitment to encourage writers of all levels to meet, mingle, share their work and test themselves in a nurturing and stimulating environment. No matter what genre of writing I came to work on, I always left either having taken the pieces I brought with me to the next level or, at the very least, with a better sense of who I am as a writer and where I want to go.

A good example of the former was my experience with Anne Simpson. I left her workshop with two useable poems: "Let Us Improvise Motifs", which later was published in Aquapolis, and "Gathering", which grew out of a writing exercise Anne gave the group and later was published in Mobius Poetry Magazine.

Being primarily a writer of fiction, I am often struggling to find my identity as a poet. This is what led me to take poetry with Anne Compton this year. Writing poetry well requires the ability to use language sparingly for maximum effect. I am always hoping that kind of poetic precision will somehow spill over into my prose. Unfortunately, quite often the opposite is true and much of my poetry becomes a bit too prosaic. Even so, I am grateful to Anne Compton, not only for pointing out the poetic strengths in the work I brought to her, but also for her painstaking effort in showing me how to rectify my weaknesses. Her passion and commitment were infectious to all of us who were fortunate enough to work with her.

One of the great things about the GBH is how it encourages all the participants to read their work in front of their fellow writers. To that end, public readings are organized throughout the week. It is a great way to get to know each other and inspiring to listen to the diverse voices that come to the GBH.

Will I go next year? I honestly don't know. Most likely it will depend on whether I have any writing I want to workshop at the time. But I will be checking their web site come early 2009 to see which amazing writers will be leading the workshops.]]>Steven MayoffPEIFamilyPolitics2008-05-01T19:25:04-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/5ce6c2ce5d0d4fa6e8caf58666ac4676-19.html#unique-entry-id-19http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/5ce6c2ce5d0d4fa6e8caf58666ac4676-19.html#unique-entry-id-19Today is the 7th anniversary of Thelma and I coming to to live on PEI. We found ourselves in Charlottetown for the day and ended up having lunch at Italian eatery, Sirenella. Thelma had been there many years ago and this was my first time. The decor and atmosphere reminded us of when we were in Florence (way back in 2003). We both had the special, which was fettucine with prosciutto and mushrooms in a cream sauce. Very delish!

Walking back to the car, we noticed a crowd near Province House (home of the provincial legislature and The Birthplace of Canadian Confederation) and remembered that it was a rally to bring attention to the plight of PEI farmers. Some speeches were made by politicians and farmers, but the best part was an impromptu protest song in which all the crowd got to join in by chanting "May Day! May Day! May Day!"

In 2001, when Thelma and I first moved here, my goal was to focus solely on my writing. It is fitting, then, to have a very nice profile of myself published in this month's Buzz (PEI's arts and entertainment newspaper) as reminder of how far I have come as a writer (and how far I still have to go) since making this island my home.]]>Steven MayoffTravelFamily2008-04-30T19:53:35-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/e02a6a103e54140aa75f1cb430c434b7-20.html#unique-entry-id-20http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/e02a6a103e54140aa75f1cb430c434b7-20.html#unique-entry-id-20 I returned a couple of days ago from my 3 weeks in Europe. A bit frazzled, but happy to be home, especially to find no snow. Well, a bit of snow, but it seems to be melting fast.
 
After Amsterdam, my sister and I returned to England. I had a couple of days to catch up on my rest and let my poor tootsies get a break from all that walking. But Rena was off with some of her work colleagues for an exercise weekend at Potters, a resort hotel that is a bit like the holiday camps that were so popular in England in the ‘50s. She had gone last year and had booked to go again this year, but had forgot all about it when I told her I was coming. Oh well… Anyway, while she was going to exercise classes I took it easy, reading Anne Simpson’s wonderful new novel, Falling, and watching some fine British telly. Much of the television in England seems very Americanized (as does Canadian TV) but there still some excellent panel shows such as Have I Got News For You and QI  (with host Stephen Fry) as well as one of the best music programs ever, Later…with Jools Holland.
 
The day after my sister returned from her exercise weekend we were off to Scotland. By this time it seemed we were spending as much time on buses, trains and airplanes as we were on solid ground. First stop – Glasgow, where our Uncle Leonard lives. In the 50s Len studied art at the Montreal Museum of Fine Art with none other than famed member of the Group of Seven,  Arthur Lismer. He later went on to study at the Academia in Florence and finally settled in Glasgow to become a teacher at Jordanhill. He retired a few years ago but still paints in the studio in his flat. The next day Rena and I went Edinburgh to visit our cousins Sasha and Michaela. Sasha and I are quite close and used to stay in close contact when she lived in Montreal. But I hadn’t seen Kaela in years, the last time being around 1993 when she was in Toronto singing with the Scottish group Mouth Music. It was amazing to see both of them again and made me wish that we all lived a bit closer.
 
Back in England, Rena and I made the most of my remaining couple of days. We and her son, Gareth, and his wife, Julia, went to London for the day. We got an excellent deal from British Rail of 4 roundtrip tickets, which doubled as travel cards for the Tube, for around £70. First we saw an exhibition of artifacts from Tutankhamen at the O2 (formerly the Millenium Dome). It’s a massive structure and the exhibition was top notch with archival film footage of the discovery of King Tut’s tomb in the Valley of the Kings and comprehensive history of how Akhenaten introduced monotheism to Egypt, only to have Tutankhamen, the Boy King, bring back polytheism. At one time it was thought that his early death at the age of 19 was a result of murder, but that was later disproved by modern forensics. CSI: Thebes anyone?
 
After the exhibition we took a rather long and circuitous walk on a pathway along the Thames. After walking for about an hour or so (hard to believe my Blundstones didn’t disintegrate by this time) we discovered a water taxi. Our travel cards got us a discount on the fare, so we took it to central London. There Julia and Rena went clothes shopping on Regent Street, while Gareth and I checked out the Apple Store. A very cool place. On the top floor a GarageBand workshop was in progress where an instructor was demonstrating all the cool functions while people in the audience followed along on their laptops. Made me wish I had had my iBook with me so I could sit in with them. Gareth and wandered all over, drooling over iPhones and latest iBook Air. I ended up making a very impulsive purchase of one of those super-thin aluminum keyboards.
 
On my last day Rena and I took her new Mazda out for a spin. For many years she had driven a VW Golf, which she had dubbed Pippi (after Ms. Longstockings). But Pippi had begun to rust and so this new Mazda (purchased just before we went to Amsterdam) is now her mode of transport. She is calling it Kiku. We drove to Felixstowe for a nice two hour walk along the beachfront boardwalk, which is lined with small colorful beach huts used by British families since the early 20th century. Later that evening we went to see Shine A Light, the new Rolling Stones concert film by Martin Scorsese. I had read some lukewarm reviews and wasn’t expecting much, but it’s a terrific film and it is nothing short of amazing to see that the Stones still got their mojo working after all these years. My favorite parts were the cameo appearances by Jack White, Buddy Guy and Christina Aguilera, who did a scorching duet with Mick Jagger on that Stones classic, Live With Me.
 
The long trip back home, starting with an early train to London, the Tube to Heathrow (2 ½ hours total), and 6 hour flight was uneventful, that is until I landed in Halifax, where I was detained by Customs. When I filled out my declaration card on the plane I didn't bother to  declare any of the gifts I brought, which is what I usually do because I'm always under the limit of what I'm allowed to bring. Anyway, this time they decided to take me aside, asked me again if I had bought anything. I confessed to some books I had bought and they x-rayed my bag. The guy asked me again - or as he put it: "The way you answer now will decide on how we proceed" -  so I had to fess up to the rest of the stuff – the Apple keyboard, some gifts I bought in Amsterdam and a number of museum souvenirs. I felt pretty foolish, like a little kid caught red-handed, but the Customs officer was actually quite nice to me. He said he could confiscate everything legally because I didn't declare it, but he just let me go. I have to admit I felt pretty dumb, but happy as hell to get on the plane to PEI.]]>Steven MayoffTravelFamily2008-04-19T14:52:17-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/4ec5fb004277c010a215e1d22b144cc4-21.html#unique-entry-id-21http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/4ec5fb004277c010a215e1d22b144cc4-21.html#unique-entry-id-21Just spent three days and nights in Amsterdam. My sister and I stayed at the Barangay B&B, which is very close to the train station. The B&B is owned by a couple, Wimmo and Godwin, who were very gracious and accomodating hosts. We were actually greeted at first by their friend Ron, who made us tea and provided us with a map and a visitor's guide. He immediately set about marking up the map for us, pointing out the Jordaan (an arty section of shops and cafes), the Red Light District, some museums and some of his favorite restaurants. He also gave us a discount coupon for a boat ride.

The B&B wasn't cheap (about $500 for 3 days, which is still cheaper than hotels), but it was very comfortable. My sister and I had a floor to ourselves. Both our rooms were large and comfortable, decorated in a funky tropical theme. On the floor below there was a communal breakfast room stocked every day with fresh breads, muffins, cereals, meats and cheeses. We made our own breakfast and washed our own dishes, which Rena found odd for a B&B, but I liked the homey atmosphere of it.

Amsterdam is definitely a walking city and pedestrian friendly. The city seems to be an interesting mixture of old world austerity and a modern upbeat vibe. This was most evident in the constant flow of sturdy Vermeer-black bicycles and whizzing Day-Glo Vespas. On our first night we walked through the more touristy section which led to the famous Red Light district and then into Chinatown, where we had a couple of fine meals. Both my sister and I are hopelessly direction-challenged, but she was determined to understand the map and managed to guide us (in an often-roundabout way) through the city and get us back to the B&B. I, on the other hand, was happy just to wander aimlessly. After a bit we stopped for a coffee and quickly discovered we were in one of the many cafes where more than just coffee is available. My sister, who doesn't partake of that sort of thing (or hasn't for years) was the designated walker for the evening, while I had a "special treat". It went well with my cappucino and I felt quite at home with the city's laid-back sensibility.

Most of the time was spent walking along the canal streets - the Herengracht, the Prinsengracht - and ducking down small streets. My sister is a budding photographer and found plenty to shoot, some of which should be posted on this site soon. We did manage visits to the Van Gogh Museum and the Rijksmuseum, which was huge, so we restricted ourselves to the Rembrandts, Vermeers and Steens. But the real work of art as far as we were concerned was the city itself. The buildings towered with a sturdy beauty and my sister fell in love with the huge windows. Whenever I go to a city or town I always wonder to myself if I could live there. I think I could definitely see myself living in Amsterdam. It would probably be a challenge to learn Dutch, but on the other hand the place seems so laid-back and easy-going that it might be easier than I think.]]>Steven MayoffTravelFamily2008-04-11T23:58:25-03:00http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/94eacf0c207269e763f2e9b37622f196-22.html#unique-entry-id-22http://www.stevenmayoff.ca/page4/files/94eacf0c207269e763f2e9b37622f196-22.html#unique-entry-id-22I have been in England for a couple of days now visiting my sister, Rena, in Ipswich. Today we had our big outing to London, which l we always do when I visit. It's our time to hit the museums together. First it was the Tate Modern to see an exhibition of Man Ray, Marcel Duchamp and Francis Picabia. I was familiar with the first two, but had never heard of Picabia before. The three were close friends and sometimes collaborated on each others' work. As painters, photographers, scuptors and poets they were pioneers in the Dada and Surrealist movements.

My sister and I like to play a game when we go to the museum. We are each allowed to choose our favorite work of art which we can bring home. Because this was an exhibition of three artists we could choose one piece from each. One of my choices was Duchamps' most famous painting: Nude Descending a Staircase #2. I'd seen it in books before, but to see the real thing up close was fascinating. When it was first exhibited it caused an uproar because people thought a nude shouldn't be shown doing something as prosaic as walking down some stairs. But for Duchamps it was a study of movement.

The painting is often referred to in Anais Nin's novel, A Spy in the House of Love. The main character, Sabina, feels a connection to the many nudes in Duchamps' painting because she believes she herself has many separate selves.  

After the Tate Modern we walked along the Thames to the National Portrait Gallery where they were having a retrospective of Vanity Fair photographs throughout the magazine's history. It was amazing to see photographs of Virginia Woolf, GB Shaw, Hemingway. One of my favorites was a beautiful black & white photo of the opera singer, Jessye Norman. Another - interestingly enough connected to the earlier exhibition we had seen - was Man Ray's photos of La Nijinska (the sister of the great dancer, Nijinsky) done up in dramatically grotesque face make-up.

My sister, who has recently started taking photographs herself, fell in love with all the Annie Leibovitz photos. And with good reason: they are stunning!! She has a way of manipulating light that makes her work look like paintings. Amazing to see the real things up close.

Afterward we went to Chinatown and shared a plate of crispy aromatic duck, fried noodles with prawn and pork dumplings. Yum!!! Finally we made it just in time to catch the 9:30 train back to Ipswich. After 7 hours of being on our feet it was good to get back home. We have a couple of more days to chill out and then on Monday we are off to Amsterdam. Tell you all about it in a week or so.]]>