Last month, I hosted a poetry workshop with participants of the New Horizons program in Ottawa, funded by the government of Canada. After an overview of basic poetry structure and an introduction of a few Jewish Canadian poets, the group hunkered down to compose a poem of its own.
Inspired by the recent massive storm that hit the city, the new poets brainstormed a word cloud (fully in the theme’s spirit), then assembled their poem, which you can read below.
Mazel Tov to Marcia, Jenny, Marcella, Shirli and Merle for their contribution to Canadian Jewish poetry!
Victoria’s Fury
Storm
thunderous heaven opens up
winds blow horizontal,
rattling rain
trees destroyed
loss of environment
power of nature
blows me away
like election signs in the wind
roots disconnected
lines disconnected
isolation
we are powerless
left at the mercy of nature
loss of voice
telephones down cannot carry it
not in charge
how to recharge?
cooking it up
before freezers thaw
sharing laundry, sharing showers, sharing shelter
sustenance, resilience, gratitude
renewal of friendships,
showering love on neighbours
to bring new growth
Writing
Writing on International Dance Day
For International Dance Day, I participated in a Yoga and Writing workshop, to which I was invited through the Playwrights’ Guild of Canada. Following a Terrill Maguire-led half-hour of yoga-inspired movement to get our creative auras active, we did time-constrained writing exercises led by Carol Anderson. One of the writing activities consisted of 3-minute bursts of writing about parts of our body. Here are my unedited (we weren’t allowed) writings:
My Hips
For years, my hips didn’t know they were lonely.
My hips didn’t know they’d enjoy bearing, didn’t know they’d like having tiny hips, hands, arms, feet, legs, face nestled in them.
My hips experienced this once and are sad – just a little – that they haven’t had a chance to be a nest again.
My Feet
My feet are looking forward to the sunshine, to grass, to sand between their toes.
My feet will be glad to dress in sandals and toe rings and paint.
My feet enjoyed their winter cardigans – reds and blues and cats and bows and hearts and stripes,
but they long to breathe and not be cold, for a change.
My hair
My hair is shy, thinning since it was ten years old.
My hair artificially sought body, and it broke, severed under a perm.
My hair is long and I cut it because what’s the difference.
My hair learns, every night, to be curly the next day.
My hair discovers it is happy even when stifled under wigs;
and as my hair gets wispier and wispier, it knows it has in them a replacement.
My spine
My spine woke up a few years ago, no longer curving at the neck – elongating itself, asserting itself, finding a way to lengthen though it is part of only a five-feet-tall frame.
My spine is short, yet mighty.
My heart
My heart skips beats – literally. (Figuratively, that hasn’t happened in years.)
My heart likes to surprise me and worry me with its literal irregularity.
« Don’t worry, it’s normal, » says the doctor.
So, everyone is walking around with their hearts stopping for milliseconds at a time?
It’s a wonder we keep going and don’t stop, for a moment, to feel until our hearts start again.
#TBT The Write Decision
Over twelve years ago, my then-still-new alma mater, Carleton University, featured me and three fellow writers in the cover story of its student and alumni magazine. (You’ll also see an article about Lynn Coady in there.)
I am quoted as saying: « If you can’t go through the day without writing, then you’re a writer. » I think I was channeling L.M. Montgomery’s Emily « of New Moon » Starr when I said that.
You can read the full article by following this link.
Ah, youth.
Immense Thanks to the Toronto Arts Council
A Big Thank You to the Toronto Arts Council, for its support of my writing.
Its generous support will allow me to take some time next summer to write the second part of my novel, La face cachée du bonheur.
I am one of two French-language writers to get Grants to Writers support this year.
Merci beaucoup!
A Literary Cabaret, live literature and music
As part of the Toronto Writers’ Co-operative’s annual outreach efforts, I participated in the 2014 Literary Cabaret at Alleycatz Lounge last February. Eighteen members of the Co-op took the stage to perform their writing, accompanied by a varying array of musicians.
Though I’d never met him before we shook hands on stage, my reading of my short story Paper Dolls was accompanied by James Faulkner on acoustic guitar. James’ spry yet mournful strumming was a touching backdrop to a story of a late-blooming friendship in the life of an older woman.
I will make a video of my reading available in April.
Exchanging Notes – Alissa York at the Toronto Public Library
Had a great time at the Toronto Public Library yesterday, where writer Alissa York was a guest of the Toronto Writers’ Co-operative, and interviewed by john miller.
![IMG_8439[1]](https://www.ammatte.ca/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/IMG_84391-300x225.jpg)
Ms. York talked about her childhood, the inspiration for her books, her writing routine, the importance of naming characters well (with which I agreed wholeheartedly) and the role of animals in her life and in her writing.
I was struck by Ms. York’s dedication to her writing and the thoroughness of her research (Ms. York’s books are quite research-heavy), and at how one tiny detail such as a discrepancy in the number of survivors of the 1857 Mountain Meadows massacre provided « just enough room » to allow her to write her novel Effigy.
It was an enlightening, entertaining and enjoyable evening. I wish I had taken notes beyond the few in my Twitter feed!
Pigeons Go Wild – Book Launch
What better spot than a wing place to launch a book boasting a pigeon on its cover?
On Wednesday, November 20th, 2013, from 5:30 p.m. to 7 p.m., please join me as I launch my short collection of stories, Where Pigeons Roost, at Wild Wing, 431 Yonge Street in Toronto, just south of College subway station.
Those attending the launch will get half price appetizers with the purchase of a drink, and a copy of the book for over 10% off the cover price.
See you there!
Where Pigeons Roost – now available
Very excited to announce that I have approved the proof of my short story collection, and that Where Pigeons Roost and other stories is now available through me and through Amazon!
In Where Pigeons Roost, four women trapped in worlds of their own making journey between obsession and redemption.
« Feather and Gaelyn reached the foyer, not yet knowing that each would remain disappointed by her life while being secretly pleased her twin would fare no better. They did not yet know that their final competition – whom would outlive the other – would be moot, the winner forever undeclared. » – Excerpt from Stalemate, from Where Pigeons Roost
The book’s official launch will be held in November in Toronto, Canada. Details to follow!
A Public Service Reading
Following my Salon du livre de Toronto gig in December 2012, I was invited by public servant colleagues at the government of Ontario to host a reading and discussion next week, on Valentine’s Day.
I will read my short stories Secrets and Nelles, both from literary magazine Virages, to an audience of people who know me more as a policy advisor than as a writer.
Too often, public servants are painted as lazy, boring paper-pushers. While there may be a handful of those, most of us are dynamic workers, eager to serve our fellow citizens. We are especially, people who care. We are family people, volunteers and leaders in our communities. And some of us are even artists.
A discussion about the place of writing in my life, stuffed here and there around work and family responsibilities, will be interesting. When one has a passion, it’s a privilege to share it with others.
A Reading In Absentia
A few weeks ago, my mother, who coordinates a programme for seniors in Ottawa called Creative Connections, held a reading of my work for the programme’s participants.
I wasn’t there.
My mum read for me: my short story A Treat (excerpt here), and two non-fiction pieces, Maman’s Hands and Sunborrowers and Watering Cans.
The positive response is humbling; « they want more! » shares my mum by email.
They meet once a week – I better get writing.