Meeting Minutes - January 22, 2017

Members of the Headwaters Writers' Guild are encouraged to attend this event. Everyone in Orangeville is encouraged to attend.

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The HWG received the following email:

My name is MJ Moores and I am the Event/Vendor Coordinator for the Writers’ Community of York Region’s (WCYR’s) THE BOOKSHELF. This love-of-reading event is a not-for-profit endeavor created to fill a programming gap noticed across the GTA with regards to book selling opportunities in the Spring and early Summer months.

The 2nd Annual Bookshelf event will be held in conjunction with the Newmarket Farmers’ Market on Sat. May 13th, 2017 in the Community Centre. Local authors will be given the opportunity to read some of their work during this event.

In addition to vendor and author reading opportunities, we will have draws, spot prizes and a genre-based scavenger hunt for all ages. This year’s author readings will take the form of an “open mic” for the 14 available 10-min. time slots to be drawn for. Any author/vendor interested in having their name entered into the draw needs to register for a table
before the end of February 2017 and have contacted the Readings Coordinator (see online).
 
We also have in place an extensive advertising plan that covers a wide range of social media, online news outlets & event calendars for York Region, print news, radio, and TV.
 
It is our goal to establish a firm footing for this new book event with the goal of bringing in Readers and book lovers. We want to reach active York Region readers (and beyond!) to nurture a formidable venue to celebrate Canadian Authors and Reading.
 
Currently, we are looking to invite local indie authors, small presses, local book stores, and reading/genre-related craft people to participate in our vendor room. I hope you’ll consider attending and/or passing this invitation on to another potential participant.


WE OFFER THE FOLLOWING RATES: [all tables are 6’ in length]
FULL-TABLE - $30 (great for established indie authors with more than two books, & non-book vendors)
INDUSTRY DOUBLE-TABLE - $50 (perfect for writing groups w/publications, small presses, indie book stores, & large non-book vendors)
A $5 DISCOUNT is available to any returning vendor (discount option available when you register and check out).
 
Please visit our website at http://thebookshelf.wcyork.ca for more details, and to see the vendor room layout.

The group suggested that since we have several published authors, we might want to consider purchasing a table or two as The Headwaters' Writers Guild using HWG funds. We are inquiring as to whether only book vendors are able to participate. We believe someone selling home made jewelry, for example, may also participate. This needs immediate attention.

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A discussion was had as to whether the group would consider publishing a book as a writing tool consisting of prompts of different forms. This will be discussed again at future meetings.

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Congratulations to Sonja for leading the meeting for the first time. She did a great job. Her preamble and prompts are below:

Thrillers

“Thrillers deal with the really big subjects: death, violence, cruelty, good and evil. They are often all about important moral and ethical dilemmas. They invariable raise the question of nature versus nurture, heredity versus environment, and whether people are intrinsically good or bad.” Julie Parsons, (author of Alpha Wave, I Saw You, and numerous detective novels)

P.D. James, English detective novelist of Death Comes to Pemberley and the Adam Dalgliesh novels, says that the most dangerous emotion of all is not hatred but love. The thriller allows us to see the viewpoint of the villain and how he or she justifies their actions and beliefs.

Emotionally driven, a thriller requires the hero to foil evil. It is an “impossible mission” that puts the hero in terrible danger.

Different types of thrillers include, psychological, crime, paranormal, medical, legal, espionage (spy stories), and romantic.

Using the prompts below, imagine the villain of the story and write from their point of view. What do they love? What is their motivation in the scenario presented? What is their ultimate goal and the plan to achieve that goal?

Alternately, write the beginnings of a thriller using any of the prompts.

Prompts

1.       They said it was a miracle she survived the fire that killed her entire family. What they didn’t know was that death followed her, and he wasn’t done yet.

2.       Everyone thought she’d died from a heart attack, until they discovered the puncture wounds on her throat.

3.       The scribe’s apprentice discovers a hidden drawer in the library and realizes his master is not the man of God he thought he was.

4.       She went into the elevator alone and was never seen or heard from again.

5.       It always happens when he’s alone in the car.

6.       She was excited about having made a friend at her new school, until she learned that no one else at the school had ever seen or met her friend.

7.       The last surviving member of the Seven Crows lodge knew it was time to tell the secret he had guarded for so long.

8.       The exotic flower pressed between the pages of her book was proof that he was still alive, and now she knew where.

9.       His imaginary friend “Johnny” had always been a lot of fun, until one day Johnny brought another friend with him.

1.   She was working late, putting the final touches on her speech for tomorrow’s reveal of the corporation’s new product, unaware of the assassin outside her door.

The next HWG meeting is Sunday, February 5th, at 1:30pm at the Orangeville Public Library, Mill Street location.

Clare will be leading.

HWG 2017 Meeting Schedule

Headwaters Writers’ Guild

2017 Meeting Schedule

Meetings take place at Orangeville Public Library

1:30pm – 3:30pm

Sunday, January 8 – Leader: Judy

Sunday, January 22 – Leader: Sonja
Sunday, February 5 – Leader: Clare

Sunday, February 19 – Leader: Don
Sunday, March 5 – Leader: Nancy

Sunday, March 19 – Leader: Judy
Sunday, April 2 – Leader: Sonja

Sunday, April 23 – Leader: Clare
Sunday, May 7 – Leader: Don

Sunday, May 28 – Leader: Judy
Sunday, June 11 – Leader: Sonja

Sunday, June 25 – Leader: Clare
Sunday, July 16 – Leader: Don
Sunday, August 13 – Leader: Nancy
Sunday, September 10 – Leader: Judy

Sunday, September 24 – Leader: Sonja
Sunday, October 15 – Leader: Clare

Sunday, October 29 – Leader: Don
Sunday, November 5 – Leader: Sonja

Sunday, November 19 – Leader: Clare

Saturday, November 25 – Christmas Luncheon

Remembrance Day and the Perfect Gift

Remembrance Day and the Perfect Gift

By Nancy Rorke

I have a confession to make. I’ve always been intuitive. I inherited it from my father, which is ironic because he doesn’t believe that I’m his. I’ve never believed him. It led to a tumultuous and complicated relationship.

Even though his disdain of me created a miserable childhood, almost a decade after we stopped talking, I forgave him. After I mailed him a reconciliation letter, we began a new relationship. But even then, he wanted a DNA test. I refused.

After my cousin published our family tree, I shared it, along with family stories, with my dad. It gave us something safe to talk about. We both love history.

          “You know more about my family than I do,” he often said.

          In the spring of 2010, I woke up with the feeling that even though my father lived on his own and was in fair health, this would be his last Father’s Day.

Even if he didn’t love me, I wanted him to know that I’d always loved him. What special gift could I give a man who had everything? I decided to compile all the old family photos and other memorabilia that I could track down into a memory book.

By mid-May, I borrowed my paternal grandmother’s photo album and began scanning old photos. My cousin Ralda, mailed me copies of all her photos including those of my father’s beloved grandparents.

Glory, another cousin, had become the keeper of the family memories. She mailed me a photo of my grandfather, Edgar Rorke, and copies of postcards that our grandparents, Gertrude and Edgar had exchanged during WWI. She knew the addresses of every place our grandmother had ever lived, as well as where Edgar was buried.

We contacted cemeteries about our great-grandparents, great aunt, and Edgar. I took photos of all the graves to verify dates, and of all the residences.

My mother told me that my paternal grandfather died of tuberculosis and that’s why; they vaccinated me against it when I was born with a lung infection. I have a scar on my left shoulder. Edgar and I are linked forever.

Glory shared Edgar’s story with me. He’d caught tuberculosis from the war.

With scanning the photos and fixing them, taking pictures of the graves and residences, and trying to compile all the memorabilia, I never finished the memory book in time for Father’s Day.

          Two months later, we were told that my ninety-year-old father had a stroke. The day after Thanksgiving, the hospital admitted him again. At 9:00 a.m., my older brother phoned me.

        “Because of the stroke, Dad can’t take care of himself. We have to find a nursing home for him.”

        By 5:00 p.m., my younger sister called. My father had brain cancer and wasn’t expected to live. In late October, they admitted him to palliative care.

        Between visits to see my dad, I continued to spend every other moment completing the memory book.

          Every visit, I brought him a gift. One week I brought him a CD and discovered he’d stopped listening to music. Another week, I brought him his favourite snack foods and realized that he’d stopped eating. I wanted to celebrate my father’s ninety-first birthday early in December ‘cause I knew he’d never make it to January 14. I begged my older siblings repeatedly, but they said no. 

          Time slipped away along with my father’s health. With the weekly drive to Toronto, there just wasn’t enough time to finish the book. I decided to take it to my father anyway. He couldn’t read the documents, so I resorted to bringing him the old photos, along with childhood photos of our family.

          When I showed him the photo of his grandparent’s last residence, he said, almost in a whisper, “That’s my grandparent’s house.” And, when he saw his grandfather Timothy’s photo, he held his breath. “That’s grandpa.”

          I smiled inwardly. I’d finally brought him something he loved. And then I showed him the photo of Edgar, and his father’s grave. My dad’s eyes widened. He didn’t say a word. He looked down at the floor to hide his tears.

         Thoughts bombarded me. You idiot. Why would you bring a photo of his father’s grave? He’s dying. He doesn’t want to see photos of graves. What were you thinking?

Finally, he spoke. “My father’s funeral happened three days before my ninth birthday, and I’ve never known where he was buried.” 

         On Remembrance Day in 2010, Dad left the hospital. My older sister drove him to the cemetery, and he stood at his father’s grave for the first time in eighty-one years.          Finally, I’d given him the perfect gift.

         Every November 11 before that, I mourned the loss of lives due to war. But that year, it became personal. I’d never had a grandfather because of the war. Now, I wept for the grandfather I never knew, and for my father who would soon join him.

Posted on behalf of Nancy Rorke

October 30, 2016, Meeting

On Tuesday, November 8, 2016, at 7:00pm, Clare McCarthy will be launching two new books at BookLore in Orangeville. Please come out and support him.

On Tuesday, November 15, 2016, from 6:30pm-9:00pm there will be an Open Mic Night for authors and poets at Euphoria Cafe in Orangeville.

Writing Prompts:

FICTION

1)  Pick two radically different genres of fiction (for example: science fiction and western!). Write an outline, or the beginning, of a story that includes elements of both genres.

2)  Pick 2 or 3 people you have seen featured in the news or on social media lately and use them as the basis for characters for a fictional short story.

3)  If you had an evil twin, what sort of mischief do you suppose the two of you could get up to?

4)  If a cosmic ray managed to penetrate the atmosphere and reduce you to a smoking ruin, what sort of superhero do you think would rise from the ashes of your past life?

5)  The phone rings and a mysterious voice whispers, “It is done!”

6)  Pick a common household item (examples: a hairbrush, a key, a dishcloth), but don’t tell us what it is. Make it a character in a short piece of fiction and ask the group members to try and guess what it is when you read your work aloud to everyone at the end of the meeting.

NON FICTION

7) Write a letter to the editor of a local newspaper about an issue of importance to you.

 8) What would you like your life to be like in 5 years?

9)  Tell us about the most memorable Halloween you ever had.

10)  Write a letter of advice to someone who is just starting out in a hobby or craft in which you have some expertise (eg. sewing, carpentry, gardening, masonry...whatever).

The final meeting of 2016 is on Sunday, November 13, 1:30pm in the meeting room at the Meridian Credit Union, 190 Broadway, Orangeville.

Double Book Launch for Clare McCarthy!

Writing is a Risky Business by Clare McCarthy

“It is better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid than to open it and remove all doubt.”

During my life, I have had to balance between this advice by Mark Twain and that of musician activist Pete Seeger, “If there’s something wrong, speak up!”

The resulting conflict between these two pieces of advice led me to conclude, “Writing is a risky business.” Sitting, musing about a situation, you run no risk.

By speaking up however, you run the risk of being wrong but you might then be able to weasel your way out of a statement by saying, “Are you sure that’s what I said?” 

If you express yourself, by writing, a critic can wave your written document in your face and say, “Here are your exact words. What utter nonsense! How can you be so stupid?” There will then be no weaseling out of what you really said, whether it’s a column such as this one, an editorial, a letter to the editor, or even a letter to your grandmother.

When writing, you run many risks. You might be misinterpreted, your facts might be incorrect, you might have made spelling errors or used lousy grammar or if handwritten, it might even be illegible. If you are expressing an opinion, it may not be a popular one. There will always be critics.

Another challenge in any writing is referred to as the ‘hook’. How do you begin a piece of writing to entice a reader to continued reading beyond the first few words? Following the ‘hook’, the contents of what you write must then be interesting enough to sustain the attention of your prospective audience.

In my writing, I do not always expect to be right or wrong. Hopefully what I write will make you think.  After reading what I’ve written, I’d be pleased if you commented, “I didn’t know that!” I try to include a hint of humour as well in what I write to make the experience more interesting.

Thus as you write out your thoughts, be aware of the fact that you are taking risks. Author Ted Sturgeon once said, “It doesn’t matter what you write, what you believe will show through.”

With the risks of writing, there can also be rewards. I expect that much of what I’ve written will be around much longer than I will.

To quote author Bud Gardner: “When you speak, your words echo only across the room and down the hall, but when you write, your words echo down  through the ages.”

When asked why he wrote, James Thurber said, “I don’t know what I think until I read what I have to say.”

I find writing relaxing and am constantly amazed where my ideas come from. 

Writing may be a risky business, but I feel that its benefits far outweigh its risks. 

One sage once wrote, “Risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.”

Written by Headwaters Writers' Guild member Clare McCarthy for the August 11, 2016, edition of The Orangeville Banner newspaper.

Writing Prompt: Feeding The Muse

These figurines were prompts for our meeting of June 26, 2016. Below is what I wrote.

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Feeding The Muse

Downtown, the streets were busy: cars on the road, shoppers rushing along the sidewalks, clowns entertaining the masses in hopes of earning a few dollars, and two cops walking the beat.

In the middle of it all, an old man, rotund and bald, sat in an arm chair smoking a pipe. He was most certainly out of place. Yet dogs on leashes took a liking to him, sniffing at his feet before plopping themselves down to rest. Their owners’ attempts at moving them along were fruitless.

“Ahoy, there,” said Officer Smith. “What are you up to, sir?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. I’m not breaking any laws, am I?”

Officer Smith looked at his partner, Officer Jones, who pulled out a small book from his coat pocket and began scanning the pages of rules and laws of the city streets.

“I am simply observing,” said the old man. “I have no alcohol or food. I am not littering. I’m not causing a disturbance. I’m not bothering anyone.”

“What is your name, sir?”

“Houston. Nathaniel Houston.”

Officer Smith wrote this in his notebook. “May I ask how old you are?”

“How old am I? I don’t see that it matters any but I am seventy-two years young.”

“And where do you live?”

“Sixty-seven Hogs Hollow Road, not the loonie bin if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I wasn’t thinking that at all, sir.” Smith glanced over at Jones as if to say ‘that’s exactly what I was thinking’.

Officer Jones shrugged and continued flipping the pages of the police manual.

“I’m guessing you’re retired, sir?”

“Retired?” the old man scoffed. “There is no sense in retiring unless you are unable to continue living.”

“So you’re working?”

“I make a living.”

“Sitting in a chair on a busy downtown street?” Jones asked. “Could you be panhandling? That’s against the law.”

“Goodness no. I’m not panhandling. I live a very comfortable life with all my earnings throughout the years.”

“And exactly how do you make these earnings, as you call them?” Officer Smith asked.

The old man looked up at the officer, eyes wide. “I told you my name, did I not?”

Smith looked down at his notebook. “Nathaniel Houston.”

“And you don’t recognize the name?”

“The Houstons used to own this town,” Officer Jones said.

“Used to?” the old man bellowed. “But I am an author of many books, sold millions. I am sitting here observing as a method of feeding my creativity.”

The two officers looked at one another.

“Don’t think there’s a law against that,” said Officer Jones.

“I should think not!” said Mr. Houston. “Where in the world would we be without imagination and creativity?”

Smith slapped his notebook shut. “Indeed. Have a good day, sir.”

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What can you write from one or more of these figurines?