How does the old adage go? Despite the sage wisdom of not judging a book by its cover, the cover of a book is a key first impression that informs a potential reader of what it’s about, inviting them to flip open to the first page and want to find out more. The decisions that go into a cover’s artwork, font choice, and other design elements are all important in creating an impression that makes a book stand out. And when it comes to books by Canadian small presses, there’s a wonderful opportunity for unique, beautiful, and more personalized covers that you might not always find with books published by larger houses or the Big Five. This is not to take anything away from books released by these publishers, which often have great covers of their own, but sometimes, especially in certain genres and trends, one cover to the next can seem a little formulaic. Not so with small press books, and the artists who spend lots of time and care in creating them, ensuring that no two covers are exactly alike. 

River Street pals, it’s officially spooky season. What better way to celebrate than with shivers up your spine, goosebumps upon your flesh, and a feeling like something—or someone—is creeping behind you…

Research for my novel began in the hallways of my parents’ nursing home, where I watched too many intense family dramas explode right in front of me. How did family relationships turn so ugly? Did those siblings get along when they were younger? How common is elder abuse?  

Ever think about publishing a chapbook?

Chapbooks are short collections of poetry that can range from just under 10 pages to just under 50 pages—and we love them! Chapbooks can be a perfect one-sitting poetry immersion.

We are delighted to have Montreal poet Carolyne Van Der Meer join us for an appropriately brief but powerful interview on chapbooks.

I recently read Robert Penner’s The Dark King Swallows the World, a novel set in Cornwall during World War II. I liked it a lot, and was surprised to learn that a few (of the otherwise uniformly positive) reviews had called it out for a lack of historical accuracy. 

My initial response was: who cares? Complaining about historical accuracy in a work of fiction seems, to me, like bragging about being the best at doing homework. Missing the point, a little obnoxious. 

The last time I attended a writing workshop was in 2014. It was the Tone + Text opera workshop in Vadstena, Sweden at the Vadstena Akademien, a school for opera artists. I was there as a librettist. This was part two of the workshop, which lasted four days, culminating in a showcase of scenes written by librettists who had been paired with composers at part one, also a 4-day affair that took place the previous year.