Tuesday, July 31, 2012

That's Impossible

For our current theme of That's Impossible

Imagine That
By Robin van Eck

She races around the house, on hands and knees, barking. She sits, she stays (most of the time), she rolls over and plays dead. Throw a ball for her and she’ll crawl and get it, panting the whole way, then carefully gets the ball into her mouth and brings it back, plopping it beside you and waiting in anticipation for you to throw it again. She’s not a dog, or a cat, or bunny rabbit. She’s my three-year-old daughter.

The first time this happened, I encouraged her. Kept throwing the ball for her to get, pet her, rubbed her belly, scratched behind her ear.

My husband freaked. She’s not a dog. That’s not normal. She’s a girl. Get up off the floor. Stop acting like that. I don’t like it.

Thrown into stunned silence, I tried to comprehend these words coming out of his mouth.

I saw it as an active imagination and in no way was he—or anyone else—going to be allowed to suppress something so precious. As we age, we forget the things that keep us young. The days of imaginative play are gone. We don’t roll in the mud because, OMG, we might get dirty. We don’t climb on the back of the couch and launch ourselves off just to see if we can fly because we might break an arm.

But why can’t we be the Queen of England for the day, or a magician or a witch? Why can’t we have a tea party and invite the Mad Hatter, White Rabbit and Cheshire Cat (or Dora the Explorer and Handy Manny and his talking tools)? Because as adults we would be stuffed into a straightjacket and locked in a padded room. That’s probably why many of us write.

Albert Einstein said, “Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.” Where would we be if we didn’t have active imaginations? Would airplanes fly? Would we have cars, or electricity or ice cream? Someone dreamed it, imagined it, so we could live it.

We live inside our minds most of the time. We dream with our eyes open. We see things no one else can. Some may call us neurotic or delusional. I call us creative, inspiring.

Today, if she wants to be puppy, I will encourage it. Tomorrow it may be an airplane or a frog or…

A writer.




Do you have a short-short story, essay, or poem you'd like to share? Email us at awcswriterscorner@gmail.com 

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

That's Impossible


For our current theme of That's Impossible

Mrs. Sharma leaves for London

By Neha Sonpar

Mrs. Sharma threw her suitcase in the back of her Rav4. Pressing her foot on the accelerator, she entered 23rd Avenue. Soon, she was zooming away towards the Anthony Henday. She was furious. She had to pack her one suitcase in fifty minutes. There was no time available today. She had to drive from Edmonton to Leduc to pick up her husband so he could drive her to the airport and return with the Rav 4.  No parking fees to worry about then. Earlier at 7 am, she had to drive those 27km up and down so her husband could get to work. All this furious activity because no one was available to drop her to the airport straight from Terwillegar. Mrs. Sharma was leaving for London, U.K. for the next eight days, and she could read her husband’s mind clearly. It boldly said: ‘You are a fool to spend $1800 for a ticket, another $1000 for the hotel and another $1000 for sightseeing. He would not understand why she had preponed her daughter’s ticket and called her out to London, away from Mumbai, away from his mother. But, Mrs. Sharma knew exactly why she was spending her lone GIC on a twenty-three old daughter who, for the past 10 days, called her repeatedly, three times consecutively at 12 noon - which was 12 midnight in Mumbai - to tell her mother how bored she was in Mumbai, how she had to register with the Canadian Consulate in Mumbai after the bomb blasts a week ago. Mom, they have closed all public places!  No gatherings allowed. It’s not safe, they say!’ 

Mr. Sharma said, ‘No problem. Just a small thing. She’s fine!’  But would Mrs. Sharma listen to him? Did Draupadi who had five husbands listen to any one of them?

The road seemed unfamiliar. She should have been near Leduc now. She looked at the green and white signboard. Beaumont. She was lost, with a flight to catch in the next sixty minutes. Edmonton to Vancouver. Vancouver to London.




Do you have a short-short story, essay, or poem you'd like to share? Email us at awcswriterscorner@gmail.com 

Monday, July 23, 2012

Monday News




Free Fall Fridays

Join us each Friday from 10am until noon. Free for AWCS Members and first-time non-members. $10 fee thereafter. Refreshments provided. Please contact Mary Kurucz for more information, or to confirm upcoming dates and times.

(403) 210-2295

Prose Critique Group

Drop-in Fees: Members: $2 | Non-Members: $5

Receiving feedback on your writing from your peers can be a valuable asset to new writers. The AWCS Prose Critique Group meets twice a month on the 2nd and 4th Wednesday. If you would like to be involved, contact Rick Borger at raborger@telus.net
-OR-
Would you like to start your own critique group? Contact us for more information.

Upcoming Courses and Workshops

Writing Memorable Settings
July 28

Summertime and the Livin' is Easy
August 11

Finding Your Muse
July 14 (6 weeks)

Introduction to Creative Writing
July 5 (8 weeks)

Flash Fiction
September 22

For more info on courses, workshops and online registration, go to www.alexandrawriters.org

Open Mics at Owl’s Nest Books

Join AWCS the last Wednesday of the month – September to April – in the coziness of Owl’s Nest Books, for some fun and entertainment with our new monthly open mic events. Support and encourage fellow writers. Read from works in progress or newly published works. Become a face in local literary circles.  EVERYONE WELCOME!
Upcoming Dates: September 26, 2012 | 7-8:30pm

AWCS Annual General Meeting

Saturday, August 25, 2012 | 1pm-3pm | Venue: TBD

AWCS members, join us at the Annual General Meeting in August to see what we’ve been up to, have your questions answered and see what’s new for the coming year.
Also, elect your 2012/13 Board of Directors.
The Writer's Midwife presents: SKIN & STORIES

“A human being is nothing but a story with skin around it”~Fred Allen
When: Mondays from 7:30-9:00pm from September 10, 2012 until October 28, 2012
Where: Pages on Kensington in Calgary, AB
Cost: $175/person includes a free journal
Registration: Email writingmidwifery@gmail.com or call Samantha at 403-850-7247
Skin & Stories is back after a very successful run in the fall! This time the workshop is eight weeks and goes from September 10, 2012 to October 28, 2012!
There will be new and fascinating ways to keep the pen moving and as always the enjoyment of being in the company of other writer’s and discussing the writing process!
For more info, check out http://writingmidwifery.com/

The Art Of Creative Writing

A course that provides instruction and inspiration to get you started and to continue developing your writing skills. Whatever your interest in writing or your own personal style, you will meet and support other writers in their journey, stretch your writing wings and discover opportunities for publishing. Guided by Fern Phillips. Bring a piece of your writing to the first class, as well as a notebook and pen.

Location Seniors on the Bow Centre
Day/Time: Fri, 2:00 pm
Session 1: Sept 7, Sept 21, Oct 5, Oct 19, Nov 2, Nov16, Dec 7, Dec 21
Cost: $16 for guests and $8 for members.

Town of Cochrane Seniors Centre Programmer
Seniors on the Bow
Seeking authors to speak about their writing experiences to seniors at dinner events
Contact: Karen Hartman ph. 403 932-7242
For more information on membership, summer and fall courses, and online registration, go to www.alexandrawriters.org
Do you have some news you'd like to share? An event, or an upcoming publication? Drop us a line at awcswriterscorner@gmail.com

Monday, July 16, 2012

Writing & Running


“You’re crazy.”

I get this a lot. Mayhap it’s true. I’m a weird little writer of weird little stories. Anyone who writes knows it’s an utterly nonsensical thing to do. Even I know that. But my sanity is most often called into question not over writing.

That’s right, I’m not just a writer, I’m also one of those goofy people who will routinely run for miles, on purpose, without any bears or sharks chasing me.

I do it for the usual reasons: healthy heart, weight maintenance, whatever. Really though? It’s about the wad of unmyelinated neurons floating between my ears.

Writing doesn’t exactly encourage balance. We’re familiar with the stereotypes, and where we fit into them. We spend too much time sitting on our behinds. We don’t know how to act. We’re frustrated, distracted, anxious, obsessed, and depressed. Maybe we drink too much. Perhaps we have serious mental disorders that may or may not be appropriately treated.

Certainly not all writers are snarled up in these problems, but you get the picture. Writing, while a worthy pursuit, is hard on your body and your grey matter. It’s important to stay balanced.

While I can’t speak for everyone, I want to share with you why I believe running and writing go together at least as well as coffee and cigarettes.

Exercise is housekeeping for the brain. A good run mucks out my noggin like nobody’s business. The accumulated detritus gets thrown out and I’m left with a clear, calm space where I can settle in with clear calm thoughts.

So there’s the chill out effect—that alone makes it worthwhile—but it also stimulates creative mojonation (a made-up word, I know).

Running grounds me in the physical world. It calls me to attention, to intention. I’m never quite comfortable when I run. It’s work after all. It might be hot or cold outside, my knee aches, it smells like someone hit a skunk on the highway, or maybe I’m tired from a long day, but I push through, intentionally. The idea isn’t to hold on, or mentally catalogue. It’s about allowing sensory information to wash over me, unmuted by everyday distractions. I simply let go, and feel.

I need that regular exposure to pure physicality. If I can’t feel it, I can’t write it.

Which isn’t to say my noodle goes entirely limp. I do think about things. When I run, however, the way I think is a little different. There’s a strange economy of thought that comes into play, a distillation of consciousness. I lose the facility for guile, for manipulation. No wonder this is when I have the best chats with my characters—when they’re out of harness, free to do and say what comes naturally.

Running puts me in that very basic, very honest place. For me, writing well means telling the truth, even when I’m lying.

You don’t have to go Powerade, running hurdles and flinging javelins. I would be a danger to myself and others. The heel-toe express is good enough for me. My point is that writing is stressful, people. It’s important to manage that in a healthy way, and exercise can make your writing better. There is no bad here.

So get up, move around, be intentionally dumb for a while and let the lizard brain take over. You might be surprised at what happens when you come back to your desk.