Here’s a review of Fatted Calf Blues from the Winter 2010 of The Malahat Review.

Been 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.

Before 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.

I'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.

After 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.  

Well, 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.

I 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.

Last 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.

The 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.

When 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.

A 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.

First 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.

Here 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!

My 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.