One of my professor’s frequently says that the publishing industry exists at a rather contentious intersection between art and commerce. But I want to tweak his metaphor a little. I say that the publishing industry is less of an intersection and more of a grown person with one foot on either end of a child’s seesaw. With one foot on art, and the other on commerce the person wobbles around vicariously in the middle. 

Time is a Mother, Ocean Vuong’s latest poetry collection, is a timely piece of writing in more ways than one. The work grapples with the immediacy of our ever-fleeting lives, reflecting on his mother’s death, while stubbornly refusing to submit entirely to grief. Vuong’s earlier poetry collections as well as his debut novel: On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, earned acclaim for their intimate depictions of raw emotion. Vuong’s newest work is no exception.

Bob Henderson is an outdoor educator, writer, and resource editor for Pathways: The Ontario Journal of Outdoor Education. Additionally, he has been resource editor for Nastawgan: The Quarterly Journal of the Wilderness Canoe Association since 2008. Bob is also one of the editors and writers of Paddling Pathways. He joins us here for our Power Q & A.

If you do not have an appreciation for Persian carpets you will by the time you finish Lucy EM Black’s novel Stella’s Carpet. After reading Black’s vibrant descriptions of their artistry and rich history, I found myself searching the Internet for images of the patterns she writes about. But this is not a novel about carpets. At the heart of the story is a dysfunctional family with many secrets.

When I was the managing editor of a national infertility blog, the Executive Director gave me free rein to highlight voices as I saw fit. I created the schedule, coordinated the topics, and nurtured the writers using editorial experience, empathy, and compassion.

She left me with one stipulation, however. “We don’t publish anything that discusses politics or religion.”

I was crushed. Not simply for the writers but for myself.

The first time I heard the term “voice” in relation to a book was in high school. The definition remained fuzzy, far harder to pinpoint than theme, setting, point of view, and characterization. A writer’s voice seemed somehow part of her style, but I didn’t really know what that meant, either.

Mostly, an author’s voice seemed extremely important: Voice helps distinguish one writer’s work from another and makes a writer unique.

Okay. But what is it?

If you’re like me, your favourite summer activities include: reading on the beach, reading by the poolside, reading in your sunny backyard, reading in the park, and reading on the couch during rainy days. With all that reading, it’s easy to run out of material. I’ve compiled a list of my favourite reads that I think everyone should check out this summer. Without further ado, here they are:

All writing is about life. Whether it’s a novel that follows the life of its protagonist or a poem that describes a particular moment in time, when you write, you communicate a life experience. Therefore, a wide range of life experience is very valuable for writers.

As a writer, I need to know how to analyze texts. I have to be able to analyze my own works so that I can improve them, and I also need to know how to analyze other author’s works so I can understand and learn from them.

Everyone has parents. Everyone’s parents die. Yet the stories where parents and death intersect are unique.

George K. Ilsley’s recent memoir tells one such story. As a young adult, George left his Nova Scotia home, heading west, eventually landing in Vancouver—as far away as he could get while remaining in North America. Then, as he turns 50, his father turns 90, and his father needs, but doesn’t especially want, Ilsley’s care.

I usually pride myself on the organization of my writing. My mind typically flies all over the place, and writing is where I sort out those thoughts into coherency. But for this blog, I wanted to share a sort of messy array of various writing tips. They all pertain to writing and they are all (in my opinion) very useful, though other than that they share no unifying quality to make an articulate blog post.

Personal growth is a pretty difficult thing to avoid. As the world shifts and changes about me, I find myself shifting and changing too. In this blog, I wanted to reflect on some of the things I’ve learned through my writing over the past few years.

ACCEPTING BOOK REVIEW SUBMISSIONS! Learn more about River Street’s new book review series. New reviews published bi-monthly—and we PAY for them! Get the deets in this blog post.

Right before I wrote my first university exam, I felt extremely shaky and weak. I stood next to some classmates discussing some of the study terms when I realized how unbearably hot the basement was. I tore off my coat, but it wasn’t enough. I kept sweating and my throat kept restricting. Feeling like I was about to throw up, have diarrhea, faint, or all three, I went to the bathroom. I crouched in the bathroom stall, not knowing whether to put my head over the toilet and hold back my hair, pull down my pants and sit, or shut the lid so I didn’t drown when I fainted. Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought, I’m going to die.

In the beginning of social distancing and working remotely, I thought it would get easier as time progressed. But unfortunately, this was not the case. The longer I spent working from the same desk or couch day in and day out, the less motivated I became.

Knowing your worth is important in all aspects of life. When you understand how valuable you are, your life improves so much. In the world of writing, it is particularly important to maintain confidence because no matter how talented you are, you’re going to get rejected. A lot.

Good writing is extremely hard to define as there’s a level of subjectivity to it. It’s easy to know what good math is, because you either get the right answer or you get a wrong one. But writing is different. I could read a book and think it’s the best thing I’ve ever read, and you could read the exact same book and think it’s the worst thing you’ve ever read. So, was the book good or bad?

Seeing as we’re pretty late into the fall season now, chances are you’re pretty well-adjusted to a routine. It’s likely one slightly different than you’re used to, but it’s a routine, nonetheless. Much like how school, jobs, and chores sink into monotony, your process of writing does too. There are lots of different ways to write a text and writers usually find themselves sticking to a specific method.

What I’m about to say is going to sound strange coming from a creative writer, but it’s the truth: I’ve never really liked poetry. I’ve always preferred a straightforward narrative to an abstract piece. In elementary and high school, the meter and rhyme of poetry confused me, and I could never grasp the themes as quickly as I could in a novel or short story. In university, I wrote a few poems when I had to, but I always dreaded them.

The following questions have been on my mind lately: Where do stories come from? Do authors just pull them out of thin air? Is there some kind of divine intervention that brings a good story to mind? What’s the difference between a good and a bad story?