This was supposed to be a post titled--Reporting from Word Vancouver. In it, I was going to tell you how much fun I had at one of Canada's largest literary festivals. That was what was supposed to happen. But Robert Burns could have told you what happens to plans.
'The best laid schemes o' Mice and Men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain
For pomis'd joy!'
Yup, and how.
But moving on and dreaming about next year...
I'm a huge fan of the C.B.C. radio program The Next Chapter. (And listening to this program was how I spent a fun hour (from one to two) today.) This season they've added a segment called: How I wrote it. During this segment of the show writers tell the story behind the story. They answer the question: What inspired you to write that? In keeping with this idea I offer the story of how I wrote one of my favourite short stories--Something Good to Eat.
My grandfather was a large bear of a man. And way back when I was knee high to a grasshopper he said, "You know, Leanne, there's an old woman who lives up in the mountains in Iceland."
My eyes grew larger and larger as he continued.
"When children are bad she steals them and--"
"Oh, stop scaring her," my grandma said, charging forth to rescue me.
I'm not sure how many spooky tales my grandma saved me from but she didn't save me from the old woman who lived in the mountains. That woman haunted me for over forty years--lying in wait, until one fateful day at six o'clock in the morning. She sprang at me.
"Write my story!" she demanded.
Having no choose, I held the pen as it flew across the page. Later that day I brought the story with me to my writing group. My fellow writers' guiding words and trained eyes helped me further develop the story transforming it into...