Thursday, November 18th, 2010
I recently contributed a piece to the Annick anthology, What My Father Gave Me, reviewed at Quill and Quire, here, and also at Word of Mouse Reviews.
What My Father Gave Me is edited by the brilliant Melanie Little, and includes essays by Lisa Moore, Saleema Nawaz, Shannon McFerran, Jessica Raya, Cathy Stonehouse, and the editor herself.
Monday, May 31st, 2010
I’ve just come back from the annual Prince Edward County Authors’ Festival, where I hosted a panel discussion with Dani Couture, Colin Frizzell, Sarah Selecky, and Paul Vermeersch. We’d been asked to talk about the writing life, so our conversation ranged widely, from questions about genre, to thoughts about revision (including Sarah Selecky’s interesting idea about revision as translation), to Paul Vermeersch’s eerily exact Al Purdy imitation.
As editor of the Al Purdy A-Frame Anthology, Paul also spoke to the audience about the Purdy A-Frame Trust. Spearheaded by the indefatigable Jean Baird, the Trust aims to purchase, restore and preserve the poet’s house on Roblin Lake as a permanent writers’ retreat. For more information, see Marnie Woodrow’s piece about this in The County Grapevine.
The PEC festival must be one of the best small-town festivals in Canada. Audiences are enthusiastic and well-informed, the venue is spacious, yet intimate, organizers are exceptionally welcoming, and the setting is spectacular. Yesterday, I heard brilliant readings by Steven Heighton, Sarah Selecky, Mariann Ackerman, and Cordelia Strube as well as Catherine Gildiner and Helen Humphreys. What a pleasure to be exposed to new work by these authors and to talk with several fine poets and fiction writers about their process.
Friday, April 30th, 2010
Several years ago, busy writers Shannon Cowan, Fiona Tinwei Lam, and Cathy Stonehouse joined forces to edit Double Lives: Writing and Motherhood. Although some questioned whether an audience existed for a book like this, their faith in the project never wavered, and they proved the doubters wrong. They talk here about the process of working collaboratively and editing an anthology of essays.
(from left) Fiona Tinwei Lam, Cathy Stonehouse, Shannon Cowan
Q: What sparked the idea for this anthology?
A: Cathy had just had her first child, and was struggling with trying to find time to write. As a writer/parent she wanted to read something other than how-to books that spoke to her experience. Something nonprescriptive, more descriptive and nuanced. She felt she and others would learn better that way—through the poetic and rich, rather than flat and often patronising self-help. As there was a dearth of material on the subject, she envisioned a project that would seek out the experiences of other women writers who had had children that could inspire other women in similar circumstances. We three already knew each other mostly through writing, and were exchanging parenting tips, so working on the project together arose naturally.
Q: Why did you choose an anthology of essays rather than poetry or fiction?
A: Nonfiction seems to speak more directly to our experiences as mothers, with real life events and experiences that readers can relate to. We considered various parameters (other art forms, other countries) but settled on these (creative non-fiction and Canadian) because they defined what we most hungered for. There were other fiction/poetry anthologies on this theme already. We wanted the writers to speak to the readers about their lived lives. Also, given how isolating both mothering and writing can be, we wanted readers to feel part of an ongoing, vibrant community, part of a continuum, irrespective of location, age, or circumstance.
Q: Does the essay genre offer something different to readers? If so, what?
A: It provides real life, honest, unembellished stories that readers can identify with. It provides well-written (and therefore nuanced, complex) versions of people’s realities that readers can return to over and over again. With essays, you can use novelistic techniques or weave in poetry (as some of our contributors did), but the overall effect is one of truth.
Q: Tell us something about the editing process.
A: A number of essays were extensively revised, and some were rewritten. There was a lengthy to and fro process between editor and writer prior to the review by the copy editor. We worked collaboratively on all aspects of the editing, which made the process time-consuming and complex but also rewarding. Having three editors review and edit each piece makes more work overall, but we had high standards and wanted the best deal for our writers. We did most of this work through email and after the kids were in bed. There were many late-night conference calls, because that was often the only time we were all available.
Q: What was the greatest challenge in getting this project off the ground?
A: Although the book didn’t take that long to place, we found ourselves convincing publishers/agents/editors that the project was worthwhile and had a market. There was a real misconception that the book’s readership would be a narrow one—yet when the manuscript came together, editors and reviewers alike chimed in that men, women, parents, and non-parents would all find something inspiring and captivating in the book. The writing spoke for itself, as we always knew it would.
Q: What has been the greatest reward, either in working on this book, or post-publication?
A: Knowing that many women across the country, of varying ages and at varying stages of their writing career, and even non-writers juggling children with work outside the home, have connected to the book, finding solace, wisdom, affirmation, support. We continue to receive many enthusiastic responses, whether in person or through others, and know that the book will have a long shelf-life.
Q: What advice might you offer to someone else who wanted to put together a collection like this?
A: A project like this is deceptively straightforward. It is truly a labour of love—quite time-consuming. (For us, it took us sometimes many hours every week, over about three years.) Personal writing projects might have to go on the back-burner. Tight deadlines can be almost impossible to deal with when one has young kids. Be prepared to work for virtually nothing and make sure you balance maintaining editorial control with finding a publisher earlier rather than later, so the work is not all for naught. Have faith in your writers.
Join Double Lives contributors and editors at:
Mother, Writer: Panel and Reading, Vancouver Public Library, May 5,
2010 at 7:30 pm
This Mother’s Day, celebrate the intersection of creation and
creativity with award-winning authors Catherine Owen, Rachel Rose, Luanne Armstrong, and Dorothy Woodend. Hosted by Cathy Stonehouse (Double Lives: Writers and Motherhood) and Cori Howard (Between Interruptions and The Momoir Project), this event will illuminate the rewards of nurturing children while pursuing the passion to write.
Wednesday, May 5, 7:30 p.m. Peter Kaye Room, Lower Level, Central
Library, 350 West Georgia Street. Admission is free.
Wednesday, October 14th, 2009
Ann Rauhala is well known as former foreign editor at The Globe and Mail and as a documentary maker for CBC television’s The National Magazine. But I met her when I responded to a book review she’d written in the Globe. The book was written by an American and it had to do with adoption from China. Ann’s review was less than complimentary. I’d read the book in question, agreed wholeheartedly with her assessment, and was pleased (or should I say, smug?) to see my own opinions expressed with such elegance. Her signature line mentioned that she was compiling an anthology of memoirs by Canadians who had adopted from China, and since I’d recently written a piece on the subject, I decided to contact her. It took a few years longer than either of us had anticipated, but The Lucky Ones: Our Stories of Adopting Children from China appeared in 2008 and was chosen as an Adoptive Families Best Book of the year. I spoke with Ann about the process of putting this book together.
Ann Rauhala
Q: What sparked the idea for this anthology?
A: People seemed curious about our adoption of a girl from China and rather than being offended by that –as some adoptive parents are- I felt an obligation to explain to them, to her, to myself. It hit me one day, walking across the schoolyard, that the obvious way to inform, amuse, maybe even enlighten the curious, given my background as a newspaper editor and columnist, was to bring together the voices of the many talented writers I knew who had adopted. And of course, by doing so, I’d get a chance to shape the narrative.
Q: Why did you choose an anthology of essays rather than poetry or fiction?
A: Collections and anthologies are a whole dinner party of viewpoints rather than a table for two. Although I read a lot of novels, when it comes to non-fiction, I like variety. Let’s carry on the food conceit and call it a preference for a smorgasbord. If I want to know about the Iranian election or mutual funds, for example, I much prefer to read four or five newspaper articles rather than one magazine piece.
Q: Does the essay genre offer something different to readers?
A: For me, essays are a more meditative genre, one in which I tend to mull over the arguments that are raised. While some great novels have changed my life, fiction nowadays feels more often an escapist sleeping potion rather than a stimulus.
Q: Was it difficult to secure contributors?
A: It wasn’t. Adoptive families are connected online and off and I tapped into that. A few people needed more encouragement than others. At least one person said yes only because I promised the book would not be sappy and self-congratulatory.
Q: Tell us something about the editing process.
A: I was a newspaper editor for almost 20 years so I knew a little bit about working with writers. I know that people, including writers, don’t always understand editing. One example: the best writers don’t get edited much so they don’t realize how much polishing may have gone on elsewhere. Ahem. Nevertheless, I was surprised sometimes by which parts went smoothly and which did not.
Q: What was the greatest challenge in getting this project off the ground?
A: Getting it off the ground wasn’t so hard – it was keeping it airborne. I knew it was a worthwhile idea but also knew that I wouldn’t be able to focus on it for a year or two after I sent out the first call for submissions. (I had started a new job teaching journalism, had a toddler and a school-age child at home and also did an MA part-time.) That year or two turned into several years.
Q: What has been the greatest reward, either in working on this book, or post-publication?
A: The greatest rewards have been my daughter’s exuberant delight in the final product and my 87-year-old mother’s quiet pride. I expect that as my daughter matures and appreciates the essays on a deeper level, there will be rewards to come.
Q: What advice might you offer to someone else who wanted to put together a collection like this?
A: It could take longer than you think but delays can enrich the final outcome. In my case, the longish time between the original notion and the delivery of the manuscript meant that the oldest cohort of adopted girls had reached 16 and had more insight about their experience and more to say than they would have at 11 or 12.
Ann Rauhala spent 16 years at The Globe and Mail, where she worked as a copy editor, assignment editor, beat reporter, foreign editor and featured columnist. From 1994 to 1997 she was a television reporter, making documentaries, mostly on health and social policy, for CBC television’s The National Magazine. She has also written editorials, business stories, book reviews, magazine articles and radio commentaries. She’s currently director of the newspaper stream at the School of Journalism at Ryerson University in Toronto.
Thursday, October 8th, 2009
Drawing by Janani Sreenivasan, 2006
2000
I think essayists write for the sake of preservation; in order to find solutions to problems, in order to remain intellectually, emotionally, or spiritually awake amidst the full rumbling fury of the world. “An essay that becomes a lyric,” Plutarch once wrote, presumably about his own formally wayward work, “is an essay that has killed itself.” A prose line can stave off this death for as long as the seams of its syntax hold. And when they fail to hold, a run-on can seem less a sloppy piece of grammar than a desperate act to stay alive.
from The Next American Essay, John D’Agata
John D’Agata is the author of Halls of Fame, a collection of essays published by Graywolf Press in 2001, and the editor ofThe Next American Essay, an anthology of innovative modern American nonfiction. His forthcoming books include The Lifespan of a Fact, a meditation on the Yucca Mountain Project in southwest Nevada, and two historical companions to The Next American Essay. He has taught at Colgate University, Columbia, and the California Institute of the Arts and is the editor of lyric essays for Seneca Review.
