Fantastic French Book Fair

What a pleasure and a privilege to have been invited as an author at the 2012 Toronto French Book Fair. There, I met authors I admire, such as Marguerite Andersen, Lawrence Hill, Michèle Vinet – and discovered new ones, such as Sonia Lamontagne, Daniel Groleau Landry, Éric Charlebois.

A.M. Matte and Lawrence Hill,
Toronto French Book Fair 2012

As a reader, it was wonderful to discuss books with their creators. As a writer, my Book Fair experience revigorated my desire to write. I have many projects planned for 2013!

A.M. Matte and Marguerite Andersen,
Toronto French Book Fair 2012

Backlink hunters 3

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French Book Fair

I am excited to share that I have been invited to participate in the Toronto French Book Fair this year, as an emerging writer. I will be participating in a roundtable discussion on « How I wrote my first book », with poets Sonia Lamontagne and Daniel Groleau Landry.

Details about the French Book Fair (le Salon du livre de Toronto), which is celebrating its 20th anniversary this year, can be found here (French only).

Additionally, a local paper mentions my participation at the Book Fair and names me one of « Franco-Ontario literary grassroots authors » (auteur du terroir littéraire franco-ontarien). The article is here (French only).

I’m looking forward to sharing both in person on December 8th and online afterwards, how this experience is colouring my writing process.

Writers Unite

Having met new fellow authors on Twitter this month, I was inspired by the UnknownJim Writers Unite challenge to « write what you REALLY want to write about. »

This month, while I couldn’t choose between concentrating on my English writing or on my French writing, I’ve not quite finished either piece, but I can still share an excerpt. Here is the opening of my short story Ms. Perceval’s Lover:

 

Ms. Perceval had long considered Owain Montblanc her type, but accepting the position of vice-principal last year impeded matters slightly. Now his superior, she could no longer express interest – not that she ever would have, anyway – lest it be misconstrued as sexual harassment by an authority figure. Hardly the way to begin her management career.

So, when Owain collapsed while teaching history class, Ms. Perceval at first hesitated to give him mouth to mouth resuscitation. She could hear the students’ nervous whispers behind her as she kneeled next to her prone colleague with another second’s hesitation. Then, she went to work. Ms. Perceval thought she heard a shocked, stifled giggle and considered withdrawing, but the prospect of Owain expiring on her watch was more than she could bear. She took a breath and bent down, pressing her lips against his, in their first, unlikely kiss.

She had imagined this moment – well, not this moment, the moment when she’d kiss Owain – many times before. She made up romantic, clichéd scenarios: a beach at sunset, the Eiffel Tower under a light rainfall, by Victoria Falls… She didn’t waste time figuring out how she and Owain would end up in these places – she simply inserted herself there, and in her lover’s arms.

Ms. Perceval blushed. She felt the students’ intent gazes pierce the nape of her neck. Could they guess what she had in mind?

While I won’t be participating in NaNoWriMo this year, it will be to concentrate on my short stories, so I hope to be further along with this and other stories by the end of the year.

Writers Unite!

Just Write

I was browsing through newly-discovered writers’ blogs such as this one and this one, and  was taken with how often a writer must be reminded to stick with it and just write.

Get typing

Don’t worry about getting the perfect words down on the page/screen right away – just write.

Don’t worry about the laundry, or the dishes, or the toys all over the floor – just write.

Don’t worry about the plausibility of a police officer wearing her hair that way, or the kind of tomatoes that grow in Ontario in September – just write.

The extra research, the editing, the rewriting will come soon enough. Just enjoy the now and write.

(I should add that I shouldn’t worry about making it to the Twitter chats I’ve also recently discovered – ‘sup #writestuff – and just write, but tweeting counts as writing, right?)

A bit of « A Treat » for the International Day of the Girl

Today, we celebrate girls and young women everywhere; their resilience, their determination, and the hope they represent.

Therefore, I post here an excerpt of my short story « A Treat », starring 7-year-old Naya:

… A passer-by got too close to Naya and shoved her onto her hands and knees, the purse she had omitted to secure shut spilling its contents onto the well-traveled pavement. Tears sprang into Naya’s eyes, less for the pain of the tiny stones that lodged themselves into her right knee than for the lost money she desperately tried to gather up between people’s feet.

“Oh, you’re such a klutz,” Naya heard from up behind her, both relieved and terribly disappointed to hear her sister’s voice.

She picked up the last stray dime she spotted and began counting her coins again.

“Tie your shoe,” Midge commanded.

Used to obeying her big sister, Naya tossed her money back into her purse, made sure it was fastened, and bent over to knot the shoelace that never managed to stay tied. She then wiped her hands on her shorts and stood up, ready to surprise Midge with her offer of ice cream.

“Ok, let’s go,” snapped Midge, indelicately grabbing Naya by the arm.

“But…” spluttered Naya. “Ice cream…”

“Forget it. I’m not standing in a stupid line to get you ice cream. I don’t care what dad said. The deal was, if I take you to the aquarium, I can go to Colin’s cottage with his family next weekend.”

Naya’s shoulders sank. She hadn’t heard of any “deal”. She suspected her father hadn’t meant her to find out, either.

“I wanted to buy you ice cream…” she replied, barely audibly over the swarm of happy families around them.

“You want to buy me ice cream? Yeah, right,” Midge laughed, readily dismissing her sister’s generosity before reconsidering. “Do you have enough money?”

“I have four dollars and forty-two cents. I lost one of my pennies.”

“Great. I’ll have a butterscotch sundae.”

Naya grinned, pleased her big sister was allowing her to treat her. They headed for the ice cream stand, Midge as usual bulldozing her way there, leaving Naya to scamper after her. As they stood in line, Naya clutched her purse in anticipation at being the one to hand the clerk the payment. …

« A Treat » is part of a short story collection on which I am currently working.

To read a short story about another powerful girl, click to read Son of Sun.

A New Notebook

Three blank pages remain in my current notebook and I’m eagerly writing all I can in order to break out my already-selected, crisp, new notebook.

New notebook, with assorted pen attached

I love paper, and notebooks, and notepads. I have to exercise control in the vicinity of paper shops lest I forget myself in the presence of pretty letterhead and envelopes, sniffing and cajoling the cardboard- or plastic-bound notebooks (I can’t afford leather).

I have collected notebooks for years, lining them up on a bookshelf, the ink-filled ones on one side, the virgin ones on the other. They include notebooks gifted to me nearly twenty years back (I finally filled that one half a year ago – thanks, Maman!), notebooks bought at discount for other people that I then couldn’t give away, and notebooks given away as swag by various companies (thanks, Collège Boréal and Telus!). My current and next notebooks fall in the later category, and include matching pens. Score.

In my notebooks go story ideas, character sketches, name lists, notable quotes, memorable dreams and passages of my current works. Those eventually get transcribed into my computer. Other than that, I prefer handwritten notes, whether in ballpoint pen, pencil or gel pen; re-reading my notes, in hard copy, often inspires me to write more. A virtuous cycle.

What’s in your notebook?

Countering Writer’s Block

Shi– I mean, writer’s block happens. Truth or myth, there will be times when writers struggle to fill the page. There are a few things I do in order to counter this imagination constipation and, no, I don’t mean doing the laundry.

I’ve been known to:

  • Search the internet for weird news items. There are crazy stories out there, just begging to inspire yours. My short story À l’air results from such searches.
  • Open a (yet-unread) book and copy out a sentence or passage. Then, keep writing. Another author’s writing can spur me back to my own project. If opening a book at random doesn’t do it for you, you can find an inspiration-spurring sentence on Twitter or FaceBook.
  • Eavesdrop on the conversations around me. On public transportation, in an elevator, in a restaurant or a café. I’m hard of hearing, so I don’t always catch everything, but that only helps; I can more easily let my imagination take over if I don’t catch the context. What situations do I impose on the words I hear? What characters introduce themselves? This technique can also work while you are part of the conversation, but your friends will have to be understanding if you suddenly dash off to write something down.
  • Keep a dream notebook on my night table. Imagination (and libibo, sure) runs rampant at night. Some plausible scenes and stories can come up in one’s unconscious. It’s worth writing down ASAP in the morning. (The worst thing is not to do so right away, and mourn what one has forgotten. True story.) A few words can suffice. Later, if writer’s block rears its unwelcome head, read your dream notebook to poke at slumbering inspiration. My short story Timothy’s Blanket was inspired by a dream.

These are but a few of my go-to ideas to counter writer’s block. What are yours? Whether they lead to your continuing your current writing or to something new, it doesn’t matter. What’s important is never not to write.

 

Backlink hunters 2

As established in this post, it’s too bad there are so many fake comments made by backlink hunters. However, some of them are too flattering not to share.

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