My writing space has been in transition for three years as I’ve moved from home to home to home. And during this time, most of my books have been in cardboard boxes, shuffled from place to place. I’ve missed them.
One great thing about writing is that it’s accessible. Anyone can do it with only a pen and paper. On a phone. On the back of a grocery bill.
I’ve learned to write in cafés and libraries. While I’m walking or lying in bed. Even in doctor’s waiting rooms. It’s good to know that I can write wherever I am.
Now, I’m in a fresh, new writing space with a new desk and – best of all – bookshelves. Right now, they’re empty, ready to welcome my books. I don’t want to rush this unpacking. I want to figure out how to organize them. By genre? By size? By colour? So many possibilities.
What will I write in this space? What new stories will come to be? What frustrations will I face? I can only imagine the possibilities. But at least I’ll face them with my books, spines out, pages full of facts and stories that are my old, familiar friends.
Each episode of Cabin Tales focuses on one aspect of creative writing, such as setting. They include original spooky stories, excerpts from creepy classics, and writing tips from authors like me. The stories are deliciously monstrous – ones you might tell around a campfire to scare your friends – so Catherine warns that they’re not for very young listeners.
Cabin Tales also encourages young writers to share their own stories with fun weekly prompts. I hope you check it out!
A global pandemic. Self-isolation. Health worries. No work. Too much work. Unsafe work. Unsafe streets. Blatant racism on display in the most gut-wrenching ways. These days, it can be hard to concentrate. Hard to sleep. Hard to see the way forward.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve had trouble reading and writing over the last five months. My mind races from one dire situation to the next. I’m easily distracted. And if you’re one of those people who can’t concentrate, who can’t read right now, that’s okay. However you feel, that’s okay.
When I’m awake at night worrying and wishing I could get back to sleep, I remember when I was a kid, when I used to stay awake on purpose, vowing to read the whole night through. Sometimes I would set a stack of comic books beside my bed, determined to read them all. Other times, I’d read a novel under the covers. Reading has always been a joyful escape, and writing too.
Is there a book that might help you escape right now? That might bring you happiness?
Or maybe you have a story inside you that wants to be written? That helps you move forward? If you do, I hope you write that story.
A year ago, I announced my debut picture book – a story of two siblings told in just 230 words to be published by Owlkids Books in Fall 2021. Yesterday, I reviewed the illustration roughs for it by Anna Kwan, and they were brimming with life and emotion. I can’t wait to share more about this book!
Now, I’m excited to announce that I’ve signed a contract with Owlkids Books for a second picture book! I’m thrilled to be working with the talented Owlkids team once again. This time, it’s a nonfiction picture book, and I’ll share more about it later. The germ of the idea began when I was watching a documentary, and after much research, I wrote my first draft in my third semester at the Vermont College of Fine Arts. Fifteen drafts later, it was accepted for publication, which is scheduled for Fall 2022.
Although our world is horribly out of sorts right now, I’d like to share some happy news. On Friday, I signed an agent contract with Ginger Knowlton of Curtis Brown! I’m super excited to begin this next stage of my writing journey with such a talented agent. Thank you, Ginger!
I’d also like to acknowledge that I didn’t get here on my own. My critique groups and partners have always been both tough and kind with their feedback. My east-end café writers helped to create a comfortable place to write when I didn’t have one. The students and faculty at the Vermont College of Fine Arts were instrumental in supporting and encouraging me, particularly my Writers Without Borders, my Goodnight Noises, as well as my faculty advisors:
Liz Garton Scanlon, who guided me into the world of writing picture books with a rigorous attention to language and a steady, nurturing hand.
A.M. Jenkins, who helped me move beyond planning-type thinking to tap into my characters’ deepest, rawest, primal feelings.
William Alexander, who encouraged me to balance intense focus with play, fun, and whimsy. Will, I vow to “trust my wyrd”!
Alan Cumyn, who taught me how to plumb the depths with each successive rewrite.
I graduated! Two years went by so fast. I can’t quite believe I’m done.
My final residency was a celebration from start to finish as each grad in my cohort delivered a lecture as well as a reading from their creative thesis. It’s fascinating to witness the growth of writers through this program and how it radically and fundamentally changes them. Add to that the usual workshops, faculty lectures, plus specialty seminars, and this residency was jammed-packed writing fun.
Relaxing before my lecture. Notice my light-bulb dress? It made my lecture illuminating!
It’s hard to explain how this program has changed me. It’s like it disassembled then re-assembled me as a writer. It expanded my scope in terms of genre and form, and it helped me plumb emotional depths to find my stories and characters. It also gave me the language to identify where a story isn’t working yet and the techniques to re-imagine it.
Dorm life.
But even though I now have an MFA in Writing, I’ll never finish learning how to perfect this thing called writing. It is impossible to perfect, which is one reason why I adore it so much.
My Hogwarts.
Before I began this program, I had to think long and hard about why I was taking it, and I decided that it couldn’t be because of the promise of whatever publishing contracts may come. It had to be for the sheer joy of building my writing craft and community. This program delivered that and so much more.
My brilliant cohort. I’m grateful to know them.
For one thing, I have access to future VCFA lectures and critical theses, so I can continue to learn and grow. And the VCFA community is warm and welcoming even beyond graduation.
Now, I begin the next stage of my journey with my post-MFA plans firmly in place. I plan to continue to put writing first, and strive for goals that are within my control. I plan to play with words, and make time for pondering and self-exploration. I plan to revise and re-imagine till my word shine. And I hope to share my new craft knowledge through workshops and classes.
My costume for our Space Disco dance included a homemade jet pack. To VCFA and beyond!
