Ocean by Sue Goyette

One of my absolute favourite books of 2013 was one that managed not to get a review (although I did include it in my top 10 books list) so I am back to say a few words about Ocean by Sue Goyette, a book of poetry that you absolutely must pick up! 

This book feels like a complete summary of the ocean and its impact. It’s a story, a community, one breathing tidal wave. There’s a certain humour to some of the poems, “One” plays on water-related words, mentioning a ‘tidal wave of disruption’ or ‘being out of our depths’. The playfulness of the words is mimicked by the oblivion of the house-searching individuals contained within the poem. Other poems have similar puns, such as "Thirty", where 'joy was tidal and anger came in waves'.

Sometimes the ocean is something to feared, other times it is joyous or even, in “Two”, it is a 'fashionable accessory for our vacation wardrobe' that isn’t quite as flawless as it appears. In “Eight” the ocean is something that must be fed, and that “the trick to building houses was making sure/ they didn’t taste good.” There are a few poems without oceans or water, like “Eleven” a poem about bees, but most of the rest tell a story using ocean, which is understandably that is the major focus of the collection. Trees also become beings, alive in Goyette's words. Flickering imagery. Old men beneath the ocean and 'the ocean is the original mood ring' in "Seventeen". Even as we fear the ocean, we are drawn towards it, and the same could be said of Goyette's captivating words.

Release Date: April 2013 Pages: 80  Format: Paperback
Source: Publisher  Publisher: Gaspereau Press   Buy It: Book Depository 

The Bear by Claire Cameron

Adult books told from the perspective of a young child aren't generally my thing, I've read a couple including the renowned Room, but The Bear by Claire Cameron is actually the first one I've loved. Even better? It's Canadian.

The Bear is told form the perspective of 5-year-old Anna, who is camping in the Canadian wilderness with her parents and younger brother, when a bear attacks. Thanks to some quick-thinking by her parents, Anna and her brother survive, but both of her parents are killed. Alone, confused, and responsible for her brother, Anna must survive the wilderness and get her brother and her to safety.

It's obvious from the story description, but this is a heartbreaking book. From the first page I was holding my breath, anxious about what would happen left. As soon as Anna let her brother out of her sight for a second, I was so nervous. That said, this isn't a story with much plot-- it's really a stream-of-consciousness type experience that's not linear, as Anna wanders the woods and thinks about things that have happened before. Despite the lack of "excitement" after the initial bear attack, Cameron had no issues at all keeping my attention with The Bear. I was just totally taken in by Anna's voice and turning the pages hoping that things worked out for her. I also appreciate that this book wasn't incredibly long, because as much as I enjoyed the narrative voice, I don't really want to read 500+ pages that way either. However, The Bear is just long enough to tell the story, and tell it well, without losing my attention.

Overall, I was a huge fan of The Bear and I think Cameron did an amazing job realistically capturing both the Ontario wilderness and the voice of a 5-year-old while still having enough depth to the story to keep an adult reader interested. If you can handle the storyline, this is a book I highly recommend.

Release Date: February 11th, 2014  Pages: 240  Format: Paperback
Source: Publisher  Publisher: Doubleday Canada   Buy It: Book Depository

Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town by Stephen Leacock

 I almost don't want to review Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town by Stephen Leacock because I don't want to spend another minute of my life thinking about this book! It is a Canadian classic and with the new illustrated edition released, I thought it was about time I read it. However, it was not an easy read. I actually put this book down for so many months I had to reread the first 50 pages just to remember what happened. That basically never happens with me. Unfortunately, when I picked it up again finishing it was an exercise in endurance and stubbornness (I mean it's not really that long!) rather than one of reading enjoyment.

Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town tells a bunch of short stories about the people living in a little town called Mariposa. I know this book is supposed to be funny and clever, but it just didn't keep my attention at all. The characters felt like caricatures, and I didn't care about them. The illustrations weren't even a style I particularly enjoyed, and by the end I was just bitter I was still reading the book. I just did not connect at all. These are boring adventures that Leacock writes about as if they were exciting, and I know that's part of the point and appeal, but to me, they were still boring adventures. I'm sorry if it makes me a bad Canadian and I'm disappointed I was so disappointed, but I cannot see myself picking up any future Leacock books after my experience with Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town. 

Release Date: October 15th 2013 (originally 1912) Pages: 288  Format: Hardcover
Source: Publisher  Publisher: McClelland & Stewart  Buy It: Book Depository

Author Guest Post: Jeff Szpirglas

Evil Eye Origins

Evil Eye is the novel I’ve wanted to write since I was 12, and never thought would ever see the light of day. It’s about a boy whose eyeball becomes possessed, takes on the ability to pop out of its socket, and float off and do nasty things. Making it worse, our hero can see it all happen – both from the eye in his head, and the disembodied one up to no good. I admit the plot gets pretty weird after that.

The genesis of Evil Eye dates back to my university days, when I rabidly consumed as many movies as possible. We’re talking upwards of at least one movie a day, sometimes three. I was a sponge, soaking in everything from Jean Cocteau to Akira Kurosawa and beyond. But it was the films of David Cronenberg and Brian De Palma that I connected to in an almost visceral way. De Palma in particular developed a style that was often ridiculed because of the way he aped Hitchcock. Despite wearing his influences on his sleeve, De Palma’s horror films from this period (Sisters, Phantom of the Paradise, Dressed To Kill) have a gleeful mania, cutting sense of humor, and artful compositions.

Evil Eye is the movie in my head that little Jeff yearned to see, answering that age-old question: what if your eye could pop out of your head, levitate through the air, and stare back at you? I envisioned a De Palmaesque split screen sequence in which a hero fought his own disembodied eyeball with a tennis racket. Movie audiences would see both images at once, just like Jake, the story’s hero.

Back in school, some people were trying to write the next great American novel; but this sort of lurid schlock truly fed my soul. I’ve always gravitated towards movies and stories that married gutsy comedy with legitimate scares – movies like Re-Animator, Creepshow, and An American Werewolf In London. Both horror and comedy rely on timing and payoff to give their audiences something unexpected. Each genre has its bag of tricks and distinct rhythms. I admire storytellers who try to pull the rug from under their audiences, substituting shocks for laughs, and vice-versa. Horror movie plots are often cyclical, reminding us that evil recurs over and over again. But that doesn’t mean we can’t laugh at our fears and failures (mortal and all) along the way.

There’s a sub-genre of horror in which disembodied body parts come to life: The Hand, The Crawling Eye, They Saved Hitler’s Brain, Dr. Terror’s House Of Horrors – I’m not saying these are cinematic classics, but I wanted to take the genre to its ultimate limits, much in the same way that composer Jim Steinman wanted to take motorcycle crash songs to their apex in Bat out of Hell. Some of my favorite parts of Evil Eye involve our hero Jake on his bike, chasing his own runaway eye, trying to process both images in his brain and stay balanced on his bike.

The ultimate goal for Evil Eye? Scare kids hard, and scare them silly. I looked to R. L. Stine’s Goosebumps, and wanted to take that kind of E.C. Comics-style horror to the edge. I wanted to make the monsters real and scary, but still keep the laughs and fill the plot with weird twists and turns.

Chances are, if you’re into the sort of genre fiction in which vampiric adolescents stare lovingly into each other’s otherworldly eyes, you’ll hate my novel. But if you have a zeal for bodysnatching monsters who take over bits and pieces of their human hosts, graveyards hidden within graveyards, and blood-curdling schemes of global domination, then I think you’ll dig this book. Not that I’m biased.

Jeff Szpirglas has had a varied career. He's shoveled manure, worked in a steelyard (he hails from Hamilton, after all), and even frolicked in the offices at CTV Television and Chirp, chickaDEE, and OWL magazines, where he was the kids' page editor. His manure-shoveling days long behind him, Jeff currently teaches children by day and writes books/fights supervillains by night. Visit his Facebook to learn more about his writing.

Thanks so much to Jeff for stopping by In The Next Room! Evil Eye sounds like a charming and scary novel perfect for middle grade readers.

Imagining Canada edited by William Morassutti

Some of the things in life I really love include: reading, Canada, and photography. So obviously I was incredibly excited to pick up Imagining Canada, a beautiful and glossy hardcover book that features a century of photographs preserved by The New York Times. The collection was edited by William Morassutti and is divided into nine sections, each featuring an essay by a different person along with matching photos that represent a different aspect of Canadian history. The authors included are National Chief Shawn Atleo, MP Justin Trudeau, historians Charlotte Gray, Peter C. Newman and Tim Cook, sports columnist Stephen Brunt, authors Ian Brown and Lisa Moore, and journalist John Fraser.

One of my favourite sections was Peter C. Newman's, "An Industrious Nation", that is all about the industry that has made Canada what it is today. Not only is it beautifully written, but I found myself especially enamoured with the photos: Newfoundland fisherman and Nova Scotian coal miners, Albertan tar sands and Quebec paper mills. These are the most precious resources of our country, captured here in a way that may never be possible again because of how we have treated them. The photo of the fisherman was taken in 1968, the peak of cod fishing when fishers caught more than eight hundred thousand tons of cod– an industry that collapsed in the 1990s because of overfishing. But the people in these images don't know that yet, which gives a bitter-sweetness to the photographs. In another photo, the last spike of the Canadian Pacific Railway is being laid. It's a beautiful image and the only unfortunate part is that it appears on the title page, tinted red and overlaid with text.

Imagining Canada isn't the kind of book that only focuses on the happy parts of Canadian history. In "First Nations", Shawn Atleo, the National Chief of the Assembly of First Nations, calls out the photos for how poorly they represent Native culture– using it as a gimmick for tourists, and stereotyping. In one photo, a miner lies on top of ancient art with a hammer; it is referred to as "crude rock carvings." Atleo encourages the reader to look beyond the images so that we can "be enriched by the incredibly history and enduring legacy of the indigenous world view." His thoughtful text really puts the photos in perspective.

By far the most disappointing section of the book is "A Tough and Beautiful Game" with text by Stephen Brunt, about hockey in Canada. Except not really. It's actually all about the New York Rangers, with only a small nod to the fact that the game originated in Canada. True, some of the hockey players who appear in the accompanying images are Canadian, but that seems to be more of a fluke than an intent. Obviously Canadian hockey teams have players from around the world, but it would still be more Canadian to read about their successes than an American team.

While the photos themselves are from a New York newspaper, it seems unlikely that a major Canadian NHL success wouldn't be featured at some points in history. It actually made me wonder if Brunt, who selected the images and wrote the text, was American but a quick internet search reveals he's a Canadian sports journalist from Ontario. So why no love for his home country? The writing and images are great, but it's not what I was hoping for when I'm picking up a book called Imagining Canada. Emphasize on the Canada. That said, I did find out some incredibly history about the Sutter family, who were from Viking, Alberta and had six (out of seven) brothers playing simultaneously in the NHL during the 1980s. What an amazing Canadian story.

Imagining Canada is an incredible and important collection of photographs. Not only are these amazing images that capture a huge part of Canadian history, but they also offer a glimpse of this beautiful country as seen through the eyes of outsiders. Justin Trudeau, in "The Body Politic", a section dedicated to political photos, points out that there are none of women. But he also writes that this "says more, perhaps, about the choices of The New York Times and its photographers than anything else."

I think that is such an important message to take away from Imagining Canada. We make our own history and we do not need anyone else, not even The New York Times with their beautiful collection of photographs, to validate it and tell us what is important or true about our country. Ultimately, Imagining Canada is a wonderful keepsake, not only for its images, but for its message as well.

Release Date: October 30th 2012  Pages: 240  Format: Hardcover 
Source: Publisher  Publisher: Random House Canada Buy It: Book Depository

Y by Marjorie Celona

Y is a heartbreaking and beautifully written debut from Canadian author Marjorie Celona, and it captivated me from the first word till the very end.

It's the story of a newborn baby, abandoned at a YMCA on Vancouver island. Her name is Shannon, and her story alternates with that of her mother, a young and desperate woman named Yula, describing the events that lead up to her abandoning Shannon.

Although Shannon's life begins in a harsh and shocking way, after several years in fostercare she finally ends up in a home with Miranda and her daughter, Lydia-Rose, who is the same age as Shannon. But even as she has her first twisted taste of what a real family feels like, there is a hole in Shannon. There is always, the question– why?

Shannon wants to know the truth about her mother, and so does the reader. But Celona reveals it in a slow and tantalizing way, sharing the details so that by the time Y is finished you've learned more about the characters than you ever realized you were. More about life.

Y is a delicate and vivid story, the words flow easily and the characters are complicated and human. Often, when a story is divided into two time periods there will be some abruptness to the transition between chapters, but not with Celona's writing. There's also usually a preferred storyline– and if I had to choose, it would probably be Yula's, but I was nearly as eager to read about Shannon's self-discovery. I suppose the attraction of Yula's storyline was how instantly shocking it was, it is so hard to imagine a situation where a mother would abandon their baby like she does, and yet Celona tells that story in a genuine and touching way.

This is a novel that asks a lot of questions. Questions about what makes a person who they are, and what a home is. It does so in an unconventional way, that reminded me a little of another book I loved, Wrecker by Summer Wood. Y also offers its own unique and intriguing setting, and it was interesting to see how the island environment offered a hint of claustrophobia to Shannon's life.

Ultimately, Y is a dark and realistic novel, a compelling story from a talented and eloquent author that left me excited to see what Marjorie Celona will write next.

Release Date: August 28th 2012  Pages: 288  Format: ARC 
Source: Publisher Publisher: Penguin Canada  Buy It: Book Depository

All These Lives by Sarah Wylie

All These Lives by Sarah Wylie

Release Date: June 5th 2012
Pages: 245
Format: Hardcover
Source: D&M Publishers
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux (BYR)
Buy It: Book Depository

Sixteen-year-old Dani is convinced she has nine lives. As a child she twice walked away from situations where she should have died. But Dani’s twin, Jena, isn’t so lucky. She has cancer and might not even be able to keep her one life. Dani’s father is in denial. Her mother is trying to hold it together and prove everything’s normal. And Jena is wasting away. To cope, Dani sets out to rid herself of all her extra lives. Maybe they’ll be released into the universe and someone who wants to live more than she does will get one. Someone like Jena.

The first thing I must mention about All These Lives is how incredibly, breathtakingly, beautifully written Sarah Wylie's debut is. It's in the voice of the characters and the perfect little moments. It's in statements likes this:

 “Most people think the biggest sacrifice, the greatest act of love you can give is to die for someone. And probably it is. But sometimes it is the opposite. The biggest thing you can do for someone is to live.”

That just perfectly capture what the story is about.

Dani's voice is full of sarcasm and bite and heartbreak. She's funny and mean. She's real. And as a main character, as a narrator, I just loved her. However, while she is only sixteen, sometimes Dani came across as even younger, childish even. Part of it was the huge personality change she has apparently undergone in response to her sister's disease, but mostly it was in the way she whines and sometimes speaks. One example is:

"It's an icky word. Why couldn't whoever was in charge of naming things call cancer "sugar" and sugar, "cancer"? People might not eat so much of the stuff then. And it's so much more pleasant to die of sugar."

It just sounded like the kind of comment I'd expect to hear from a kid, not a teenager.

On the surface, All These Lives is a "cancer book", but what makes it so remarkable is the fact that it's not really about cancer. It's about love and family and those moments when somebody is hurting and you feel totally helpless. It's about sisters, in the same powerful and beautifully written way that Imaginary Girls by Nova Ren Suma is.

My biggest problem with the novel was how muddled it got near the ending. The result was that the ending felt pretty abrupt, and I was confused about what had actually happened which was kinda annoying. Despite the lack of resolution it provided, what made me fall in love with  All These Lives was the snarky and strong voice of Dani and the lyrical beauty of Wylie's writing. I'll definitely be picking up her second novel.

As a completely irrelevant but interesting to me sidenote: Wylie actually graduated from the same University I did my biology masters at the year before me in neuroscience. Yay for science-loving Canadian writers.

Seraphina by Rachel Hartman

When I say I don't read a lot of fantasy, that's an understatement. Especially, high fantasy– I can't remember the last one I read. But something about Seraphina by Rachel Hartman, drew me to it, or maybe I was just feeling open-minded. Whatever the reason, I'm glad I did because this is an exciting and amazing novel that has made me wonder if I need to give the genre more of a chance.

Seraphina, named after its main character, is Hartman's young adult fantasy debut but there is nothing novice about it. Everything, from the world-building to the writing to the plot to Seraphina herself, is strong and well-executed.

It's been four decades of peace between humans and dragons in the kingdom of Goredd when Seraphina goes to court as musicial assistant. She's just in time for the murder of a member of the royal family; which appears to have been done by dragons. Dragons themselves can fold into human shape, but are usually forced to wear bells to distinguish themselves. And nothing can hide their silver blood.

As the celebration marking the fortieth year of the treaty approaches, Seraphina has her own reasons for wanting the peace between dragons and humans to be maintained. For one, she grew up with a dragon tutor who works as a scholar. Seraphina joins Prince Lucian in the search to finds out what's really going on– but as they come closer to the truth she has to work harder than ever to keep him, and the rest of the world, from knowing her own secret. One that could cost her her life.  

Filled with delicious tension and riveting twists, there's really nothing to critique about Seraphina. I love that it tells such a complete and rich story on its own that I wasn't even sure it was a part of a series until the end. Like I said, it's not a genre I'm familiar with but from what I know these are some original and exciting dragons. The political tension between the dragons and the humans is riveting, and it can easily reflect some of what goes on in the real world between different racial, religious, or other cultural groups. The only difference is, the dragons do really have all the power in Seraphina, they are the strong ones, but the rest of the world seems to have dangerously forgotten it.

Prince Lucian was also a wonderfully well-developed and intriguing character. He's a bastard who never knew his parents, and that gives him a unique connection with Seraphina whose mother died in childbirth. I loved his honesty and his sensitive side, and felt like him and Seraphina were perfectly matched. The only problem was, he was already promised to another– Seraphina's friend and student, Princess Glisselda. Glisselda was also great, she had so much spunk and it was a perfect contrast to how serious Seraphina could be at times. On the surface they seem to have nothing in common, which makes the development and believability of their friendship all the more interesting.  

Even though Seraphina is outside of what I usually read, I'm so incredibly glad I picked up this high fantasy debut by the talented Canadian author Rachel Hartman who combines sharp writing, a clever plot, and a rich cast of characters for an exciting and intense story. I definitely can't wait to pick up book two!  

Release Date: July 10th 2012  Pages: 464  Format: Hardcover 
Source: Publisher Publisher: Random House Canada  Buy It: Book Depository

That Boy Red by Rachna Gilmore

That Boy Red by Rachna Gilmore

Release Date: April 4th 2011
Pages: 220
Format: ARC
Source: Publisher
Publisher: Harper Collins Canada
Buy It: Book Depository | Amazon.ca

It’s the Depression, but Red’s family is managing better than most on their Prince Edward Island farm. Hard working and resourceful, they have enough to eat and to help others, even if at times they are mocked by their neighbours for putting education ahead of farm work. Eleven-year-old Red has plenty of chores around the farm, and the days can be long, but he still gets the odd break to go swimming or fishing... provided his homework is done.

The back of this book compares it to Anne of Green Gables, and it really is that sort of novel with a male main character. It's written in the kind of language that does take the reader back to the thirties, and the writing flows easily. The book is divided into several distinct, but connected stories which makes it good for reading in chunks, though the whole novel is still a really fast read. Some of the sections– like one where Red's father injures himself– are sadder, while others– like when Red's Granny visits– are funnier, but they all have a taste of both humour and emotion within them.

As easy as the book was to read, there was some language that left me a little confused, like when Gilmore writes: "Ellen complained that he raced through his recitations with no expression whatsoever, but Red figured getting through it mattered more than any highfaultin expression." Obviously language was different eighty years ago but it's hard to imagine this ruddy farm boy that prefers building things to reading using the word highfaultin, and it felt out of place (and not just because I had no idea what it meant).

That Boy Red wasn't the kind of book that I would have gone seeking out myself, but when I had a surprise copy in my mailbox I decided to give it a try. For the short time it took to read it, I guess I'm glad I did; I feel like it's a good contribution to Canadian history and a great addition to elementary school libraries for that reason. But it also wasn't a book I felt in love it, in the emotional all-encompassing way that some novels sweep me off my feet. Instead, it was a book that I enjoyed, and it had some nice moments. Ultimately, I'd recommend That Boy Red to the middle grade readers looking for the a male Anne of Green Gables, and would hope it would hit the mark for them in the way that it didn't quite manage for me.

Author Genevieve Graham on Where the Writing Happens

There are almost 90,000 words in “Sound of the Heart”. Isn’t that wild? This blog post is less than 500. And yet as I was writing, there were so many more. I had to edit it back. So it kind of begs the question: Where do all those words come from?

Ah. I’m so glad you asked. Because that’s something I’d like to know as well!

It’s probably easiest to start with the physical. When I write, I head into my quiet office (which my husband assembled for me) with a cup of tea. I light a couple of candles … then stare at my computer screen.

Tour from left:

• Usually I have tea there, but we’re having a bit of a heat wave lately, so I’m going with ice water. No, that is not vodka.
• Basket of pens, most of which don’t work.
• Hershey kisses. Yeah, so?
• Candles (at least one). I like these new dangling square ones I picked up a few weeks ago, but they’re expensive so I only burn them on special occasions.
• Computer (this is the third laptop I’ve owned since 2007. I’m a big Mac believer now).
• Cat carving which my beloved husband made for me. I’m a dog person, but he says I collect so much stuff (yes, I’m disorganized) that he calls me a Cat Lady. I just like it because he made it.

The entire wall in front of me is a huge world map, which I sometimes use to distract me when I need something new and entertaining in my head. Like when I see “Farafangana” in Madagascar and wonder what kind of stuff goes on there. You know. Very important stuff.

Right. Now onto the writing part. Like I said, I stare at the computer screen, and I kind of wait. I think, in a way, I meditate, though there are no ohms or soothing imaginings going on in my world.

Actually, my dog, Murphy, occasionally does ohms. Kind of like a “Poor me, what a hard life I lead” kind of a comment.

Then the words start flowing, and it’s absolute magic. Sometimes the pictures are so clear in my head, I feel like I’m channelling the stories. Words literally fly out of my fingers. It’s kind of interesting, because a few people have suggested I carry around a tape recorder kind of thing so I can just speak into it and type out stories later, but I’ve found I can’t do that. The words get stuck in my brain. So I have to type. Back in 1990 I bought one of those “Typing Tutor” programmes, then taught myself to type when I was applying for a job as a marketing assistant at a top advertising agency in Toronto. Seriously. In two weeks I went from 0 to 85 wpm. I have no idea how quickly I type now, but my fingers move more quickly than my brain most of the time. I can’t carry on much of a conversation with my voice, but if I could type it I’d be just fine!

So the question remains: where do all those words come from? And the answer is still: “I don’t know.” My favourite part about writing Historical Fiction is that no one can tell me what I’m writing didn’t actually happen. After all, no one alive today was alive then (unless you’re talking about reincarnation or something). The stories come to me from somewhere I’ve never been, giving me words I rarely use in my day to day life. Where do they come from? What if I am actually channelling them? What if the words come straight from the stories themselves because … maybe, just maybe, they really happened.

Genevieve Graham graduated from the University of Toronto in 1986 with a Bachelor of Music in Performance (playing the oboe). Writing became an essential part of Genevieve’s life a few years ago, when she began to write her debut novel, Under the Same Sky. The companion novel, Sound of the Heart, was released May 1, 2012.  

Thanks so much to Genevieve for stopping by In The Next Room! To learn more about her novel, Sound of the Heart, stop by her website.

Author Interview with Buffy Cram

1.  You've got quite a vagabond history, do your travels inspire your writing? Is there a specific story in Radio Belly that was inspired by a particular trip ("The Moustache Conspiracy" perhaps?)

Living and working all over the world has definitely inspired my writing. It has exposed me to all kinds of different realities, which may be why “reality” is such an ambiguous thing in my fiction. Several of the stories: “Loveseat,” “Refugee Love” and “Floatables” were written while I was living in Buenos Aires. I was haunting the same cafes Borges and Cortazar used to write in and I must have absorbed some of their magic realist leanings. “Mrs. English Teacher” was directly influenced by (but loosely based on) my time teaching English in South Korea. And “The Moustache Conspiracy” is based on some of the paddling trips my dad used to take me on around Vancouver Island as a kid. So, yes, many of the places I’ve been work their way into my fiction.

2. Do you have a favourite place for writing? (Or even a favourite country?)

My hometown, Victoria, is still one of my favourite places to write. I’m able to go for long walks and not be interrupted by traffic or trams or crowds the way I am in other cities. I’m able to take a break from my writing and yet stay in the dream state from which I do my most creative work.

3. The stories in Radio Belly often deal with contemporary concerns, like the economy in "Large Garbage", in a slightly whimsical way; what made you decide to take a look at serious issues, often with a humorous eye?

It’s extremely important to me to be relevant to my readers and that means not avoiding the “big issues” of the day but tackling them head-on. Short fiction is so often overlooked and I think that’s because it has a reputation for being overly-precious or overly-subtle. But actually, when done right, short fiction is one of the most powerful ways I know to really get inside an issue and experience it first-hand. In order to be motivated, I need my writing to address the things that matter most to me— the economy, the environment, mental illness— but not in the usual “newsy” way. Whimsy and humour are my way of creating new perspective on these issues. My goal is to offer readers a safe way to see themselves and, by extension, an opportunity to laugh at themselves. I think there is great healing in that.

4. Interestingly, like the short story/memoir author, Charlotte Gill, who blurbed Radio Belly, you've also been recognized for your creative non-fiction. When you start a new piece, what makes you lean towards fiction or non-fiction? What are some of the differences for you between writing in the two genres? Do you have preference?

For me, fiction and non-fiction are two different gears within the same machine. They serve very different purposes. Sometimes the plain truth is the most powerful type of story. Adornment would just clutter the message. Other times, and often with more complicated or more fraught subject matter, the reader has to be drawn in more slowly and methodically. For example, if I were to write a non-fiction human-interest article about a family man who loses his home during the economic downturn, readers might turn away. They’ve heard it too many times before. It’s a downer and offers no solutions. But, if I’m to take that same story and dramatize it, and make it silly and imaginative, and then turn the issue on its head and make it so that the reader actually wants that man to lose his home (as in “Large Garbage”) it’s much more powerful.

5. How would you sum up Radio Belly in five words or less?

Great question! I would say: soft-lobbed, sometimes-funny, magical political poetry (okay, I cheated with the hyphens!)

6. The order selected for short story collections is always so interesting– was that something you decided on, and if you did, what made your decisions? How does the chronology of the stories in Radio Belly compare to the order that they were written in?

I’m so close to my stories, I can’t always see them clearly, so I really relied on my editor and publisher when deciding the order within the collection. In the end, one of the most important things we considered was pacing—it was important to start off with a bang. But it was also important to ease readers into my “otherworldly” point of view, which is why stories like “Radio Belly” and “Floatables” were put near the end. Interestingly enough, the order of the stories in the collection lines up pretty well with the order in which they were written, with the exception of “Floatables” which was one of my earliest stories.

7. What are some amazing books you've stumbled upon lately? Any Canadian fiction recommendations?

I was most recently living in Berlin where English books are a little scarcer and a little more expensive. I was getting my books from second-hand book stores and flea markets so I was reading a strange mix of older books: Steinbeck and Virginia Wolfe and Gertrude Stein. While there I did discover a wonderful German contemporary short fiction writer, Daniel Kehlmann and a wonderful new American short fiction writer, Ben Loory. And I had the pleasure of blurbing new Canadian writer Melanie Schnell’s powerful new book “While the Sun is Above Us.”

8. If you could have a dinner party with any five people, living or dead, who would they be?

My dinner party would be all dead people. I would invite Earnest Hemmingway, Hunter S. Thompson, Janice Joplin, Salvador Dali (he would do the cooking) and, hmmm, maybe my grandma who was supposedly a real entertainer.

9. Do you have any advice for aspiring authors?

My advice for aspiring authors is to try and write for at least an hour every (or most) days. Try not to focus on quality at first, but just on time spent in the act. I would also say don’t expect ideas for stories or characters to arrive fully formed—in more than a decade of writing this has almost never happened to me. Instead, think of writing like building an onion—you’re adding one thin layer at a time, a little bit every day, and only at the end of the process does the work start to resemble a single coherent idea.

10. What's next for you as a writer?

I’m having a lot of fun working on my novel, which will come out soonish with D&M. It’s about two kids who grow up on a schoolbus chasing the Grateful Dead across the country.

Growing up in a communal housing project on the tip of Vancouver Island, Buffy Cram spent most of her childhood running wild on beaches with a gang of kids her own age. Buffy has spent the last decade teaching and writing in Vancouver, Montreal, Boston, Texas, Mexico, South Korea, South America and various parts of Europe. She currently divides her time between San Francisco and Berlin, Germany. She writes by day, bartends by night and has a business making repurposed leather handbags on the side. 

Thanks so much to Buffy for stopping by In The Next Room! To learn more about her debut collection of short stories, Radio Belly, stop by her website or Facebook page. Click here to read my review of Radio Belly at In The Next Room.

Radio Belly by Buffy Cram

It's been way too long since I read a short story collection, but Cram's first book Radio Belly was a perfect reintroduction to the genre. It's a mix of quirky and serious, whimsical and sad and each story manages to be complete and satisfying on its own. While of course I had favourites, there wasn't a specific story that I would recommend skipping or that I didn't enjoy in some way.

In Radio Belly, Cram excels most when her stories are a little less literal. My favourites were the weirdest. There are nine stories, beginning with "Mineral by Mineral" in which a woman finds herself with a deep hunger for soil and other inedibles after her life falls apart. It's insightful and observant, the wry comments at which Cram is so good, passages like:

"If she had a warning label, it would read: “Good friend, not great. Talks more than listens. May or may not have a conscience. Manipulative in an emergency. Needs constant attention. May or may not be capable of authentic connections. Should not be exposed to displays of sickness, grief, shame. May contain traces of fraudulence."

In the second story, "Love Seat" was one I had difficulty to connecting to; it's a sort of twisted love story involving the Grateful Dead and a lot of tanning lotion and a radio show host. I actually enjoyed the beginning, before it got into all the Grateful Dead stuff, since I've never listened to the band and all the connections and symbols just didn't make sense to me. It might work better for an older, or more musically literate, reader.

"Large Garbage", the third story, was previously published in Darwin's Bastards, a collection edited by Zsuzsi Gartner (author of Better Living Through Plastic Explosives), who seems to be mentor of sorts for Cram, based on her author's note. "Large Garbage" was another story that was just twisted and strange enough to work, without losing me as a reader. It's filled with Cram's strange images and comparisons like,

"I was wondering how, exactly, was I different from this mushroom? I ate, I slept, I too grew larger and paler by the day."

"Mrs. English Teacher" and "Refugee Love" were the two stories I enjoyed the least from Radio Belly. In many ways, they were also the most normal. In the first, a young woman goes to teach English in a war-torn country, and although "Mrs. English Teacher" is filled with social commentary, the way it is shared often veered on slightly boring for me. "Refugee Love" is an older woman looking back on the 80s and dating and love, and once again, it felt well-written but uninspired, and I never connected with the narrator. Cram has such a vivid imagination, and in these two stories, it doesn't feel like it is reaching its full potential.

In contrast, the title story, "Radio Belly" and the final one in the collection, "Floatables: A History" were both incredibly odd and incredibly wonderful. "Radio Belly" features a young woman who starts receiving weird transmissions from her stomach following an appendectomy, while "Floatables" takes place a top of a rubber island, created in a post-apocalyptic world where mother nature is not to be trusted, only the rubber is beginning to peel away and reveal something suspiciously green.

Overall, Radio Belly was a strange and enjoyable collection of stories. Even though a couple missed the mark for me, I found myself loving Cram's quirky and original perspective, as well as her observant description and unique story-telling. Readers looking for a fresh short story collection, or even just something a little out of the ordinary, would be well served by picking up Radio Belly and I am excited to see what Cram publishes next.

The Thirteen by Susie Moloney

The Thirteen by Susie Moloney

Release Date: June 7th 2011
Pages: 336
Format: Hardcover
Source: Publisher
Publisher: Random House Canada
Buy It: Book Depository

When Paula Wittmore goes home to Haven Woods to care for a suddenly ailing mother, she brings her daughter and a pile of emotional baggage. She also brings the last chance for twelve of her mother's closest frenemies, who like to keep their numbers at thirteen. And her daughter Rowan– young, innocent– is a worthy gift to the darkness.

The Thirteen was one of those delicious novels that sucked me in right away. Moloney also managed an awesome POV, that was third person but switched between what character the reader got insight into, which made everyone (especially Paula and Rowan, but also many of the more sinister characters) intriguing and relateable in some way. I found every character in the novel– and there were a lot of them– unique, even if there were a few that made me uncomfortable... mostly one lady who had her fingers falling off. Gross!

It's not a spoiler because it's clearly indicated even on the cover of the book, but I really wish that this book didn't advertise it was about witches. That's because the majority of the book is so perfectly creepy and mysterious, and already knowing what the "ah-ha" moment was seemed unnecessary and took away some of the excitement. I don't usually read adult paranormal fiction, but I just loved Moloney's writing, which is what made The Thirteen so delectable and easy to read. The story flows smoothly and there is an interesting technique used with thoughts in parenthesis or italics which generally worked well.

Unfortunately, I did feel like near the end of The Thirteen there was one big collision of everything being revealed at once and as a result there's still a few aspects I'm unclear on (if anyone else has read this and wants to let me know, I'd love to clarify! Ha) which is a frustrating way to end a book. The epilogue especially felt unnecessary to me, but maybe it is leaving room for a sequel?

Ultimately, enjoyed the majority of The Thirteen immensely, so I'd definitely be willing to try a book 2, or another novel by Moloney, even if the last chunk of the book was rushed for my taste.

Love Alone by Emmanuel Kattan

Love Alone by Emmanuel Kattan

Release Date: October 22nd 2011
Pages: 225
Format: Paperback
Source: Publisher
Publisher: Thomas Allen Publishers
Buy It: Book Depository

Judith and Antoine were lovers for a brief time. Then, suddenly, brutally, it ended. Nine years later, they meet again and attempt to revive their old passion. They dream of rewriting their history and burning the memories that are still troubling their souls. Eventually, the couple’s shared madness and jealousy turns homicidal.

Love Alone was one of those books that instantly intrigued me with its premise– I mean, homicidal lovers? But the actual novel, while one I enjoyed, was really different than I expected. In a way, it was a lot more about thoughts and feelings than actions, but the actions that did occur were definitely pretty disturbing.

After finishing the book, I described it as "Milan Kundera meets Simon Van Booy"– two of my favourite authors– "and the result is an incredibly but slightly twisted love child." Love Alone is both strange and lovely, filled with dozens of quotes I had to scribble down as I was reading. Lines like:

"Each return creates a new misrepresentation on the surface of the past; when we come back to the same memory too often, it becomes unrecognizable in the end."

and

"It’s the loves we haven’t lived that are the hardest to forget." 

But Kattan hasn't just written a bunch of pretty words, they are strung together into a creepy and intriguing novel. Despite that, the stage where Judith and Antoine went from being jealous that the other had lovers while they were apart, to being okay with murder, didn't quite connect with me. Kattan wrote about it beautifully, but some of their actions just felt so absurd, that it was really hard for me to relate to as a reader.

Thinking back, several months after reading the novel, my disconnect is a bigger concern than it was for me when I was reading it. When I was reading the book I was just completely entranced by the beautiful writing, but in retrospect, it's a novel I'm unlikely to reread because of the disbelief I felt about the story once it took its more wild turns. Still, Love Alone is an intriguing and beautifully written novel, and Kattan has definitely caught my attention.

Alone in the Classroom by Elizabeth Hay

Alone in the Classroom by Elizabeth Hay

Release Date: April 26th 2011
Pages: 304
Format: Hardcover
Publisher: Random House Canada
Source: Publisher
Buy It: Book Depository

In a small prairie school in 1929, Connie Flood helps a backward student, Michael Graves, learn how to read. Observing them and darkening their lives is the principal, Parley Burns, whose strange behaviour culminates in an attack so disturbing its repercussions continue to the present day. Connie's niece, Anne, tells the story. Impelled by curiosity about her dynamic, adventurous aunt and her more conventional mother, she revisits Connie's past and her mother's broken childhood. In the process she unravels the enigma of Parley Burns and the mysterious, and unrelated, deaths of two young girls.

There's a line in Alone in the Classroom that says "It’s a novel that works better as poetry". The narrator is talking about Thomas Hardy's Tess of the d'Urbervilles, which I haven't read, but they could just as easily be referring to Hay's latest novel. That was my major problem with this book, it was absolutely filled with delicate, beautiful sentences and phrases, but what they added up to didn't fill me with any kind of emotion.

I think the root of my apathy stems from the odd narration style. Alone in the Classroom is written in first person, but the narrator, Anne,  doesn't really show up till midway into the book, and even then I didn't learn much about her. She was a non-entity. Anne was supposed to be the trigger for a passionate and bold turn of events, but even as they unfolded I didn't quite believe them. She told them with the same distance as if she were talking about somebody else. I also felt like the whole murder aspect was an after-thought, and though again, it was filled with lovely images, I didn't really get its point within the story.

It also really bothered me that Anne was able to tell this detailed story, filled with dialogue and richness, when she wasn't even alive when most of it was happening. I really don't feel like she would have known all of that, but unlike, for example The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes where the narrator is intentionally untrustworthy, I kept getting the impression that I was supposed to believe what the narrator was saying. The problem was that I didn't.

I don't want Alone in the Classroom to come across as a horrible book. It's not. There were many passages I had to jot down they were so beautiful. It was filled with perfect moments like:

"Movement always helps. A world of thoughts occurred to her whenever she rode a train, and a lesser world whenever she went for a walk." 

But they were contained within a story that had a lot of trouble keeping my interest. In the end, Alone in the Classroom was a book that was lovely by the sentence, but failed for me, as a story.

Practical Jean by Trevor Cole

Practical Jean by Trevor Cole

Release Date: September 21st, 2010
Pages: 320
Format: Advance Reader Copy
Publisher: HarperCollins 
Source: TLC Book Tours
Buy It: Book Depository

Jean is an ordinary, small-town woman with the usual challenges of middle age who sees her mother go through the final devastating months of cancer, and realizes that her fondest wish is to protect her dearest friends from the indignities of aging and illness. And that's when she decides to kill them . . .

Unfortunately this book wasn't quite for me. The satire was well done, not the over-the-top kind that gets on my nerves like Super Sad True Love Story by Gary Shteyngart, but although I found moments entertaining I never quite bought into the initial premise. It seemed that perhaps Cole didn't spend enough time setting up the story, and I never really believed that Jean would kill all these people without thinking twice. While Cole gave her an interesting (and entertaining) reason for doing so, her progression into crazy wasn't quite believable and so it was hard to fathom that she would be okay with murder, even if she didn't want her friends to have to age. Perhaps if she was murdering somebody else she would potentially have to care for in their old age, like her husband, it would make more sense than killing off her closest friends, who she wouldn't have been responsible for, just because she loved them.

Another problem I had with the book was that I didn't care about Jean in the first place- her whole sob story about how her mom treated her and how nobody understands her art, none of it was expressed in a way that garnered any sympathy for me so I spent most of Practical Jean more frustrated with her than anything. I didn't even dislike her necessarily, she just annoyed me. There was also a strategically given speech by Jean that felt contrived instead of letting the story unfold naturally. Ultimately, Practical Jean is a novel with an interesting premise, but its execution and main character failed to capture my interest.

Half Blood Blues by Esi Edugyan

Half Blood Blues by Esi Edugyan

Release Date: June 16th, 2011
Pages: 304
Format: Paperback
Publisher: Thomas Allen 
Source: Publisher
Buy It: Book Depository

Paris, 1940. A brilliant jazz musician, Hiero, is arrested by the Nazis and never heard from again. He is twenty years old. He is a German citizen. And he is black.

Fifty years later, his friend and fellow musician, Sid, must relive that unforgettable time, revealing the friendships, love affairs and treacheries that sealed Hiero’s fate.

In some ways, completely unrelated to the content of the novel, Half Blood Blues reminds me slightly of Blood Red Road by Moira young- and not just because of the gore in the title. The two books are both written in dialect, a fact which is in some ways responsible for their slow starts, but once the reader becomes fully immersed it is impossible not to fall in love with the story.

Part of what surprised me about Half Blood Blues was the fact that for a historical book, one with a story told mainly in the past, it isn't just about the history: at its core Edugyan's novel is truly human. This humanity comes mainly from the character of Sid, his voice as the narrator felt so genuine I find it difficult to imagine what Edugyan's other novels are like, how can she tell any other stories when this one felt so real? The musicians that make up the group Sid is a part of are each unique and believable and in Half Blood Blues each of them tells their own story: the solider's son who believes in music, the Jew with the aryan appearance, the young prodigy. Mingled into the story are real people and events so that the novel reminded me slightly of The Paris Wife by Paula McLain, a book where it is hard to know where the truth ends and the imagination begins precisely.

Although Half Blood Blues has been nominated for many awards such as the Booker, the Giller and the Governor General's, it is not so overly literary as to be inaccessible. Once the reader becomes accustomed to Sid's voice, the story itself is approachable and easy to read. Still, it is not a novel to be taken lightly and it deals heavily with issues of race, such as the hierarchy of blacks in Nazi Germany, that most are unfamiliar with but which I found fascinating. In the end, Half Blood Blues provides a powerful message about jealously, betrayal and friendship in incredibly difficult times; and it is certainly not the last book by Edugyan that I will be reading.

Vital Signs by Tessa McWatt

Vital Signs by Tessa McWatt

Release Date: July 26th, 2011
Pages: 176
Format: Hardcover
Publisher: Random House Canada
Source: Publisher
Buy It: Book Depository

Anna, Mike's beautiful and self-possessed wife, begins to mangle her sentences as a result of a brain aneurysm that could kill her at any moment. In his panic to show his wife that she has been his entire universe, will Mike finally confess all the ways in which he rebelled against her power over him, the way he betrayed her?

Vital Signs is a short novel but Tessa McWatt manages to say a lot, in a quiet and thought-provoking way. What is happening to Anna is terrifying, but the book makes the reader think, is it really so bad for Anna or it is worse for her husband? These sort of questions and the consequences of diseases that impact the mind on marriage reminded me of Still Alice by Lisa Genova in the moving way that the novel tackles them. In a way, Mike often seems more concerned about himself even while caring for his wife- he worries about his own guilt as opposed to what telling Anna the truth may do to her. Not that he shouldn't be honest, but as the book shows, not everything is always what it seems, including a happy marriage.

The relationships between Mike and Anna and their children was also interesting and I think that part also reminded me of Still Alice because McWatt shows how three different personalities may react to the same circumstances. I found the story of the middle daughter, Charlotte, who is strong and stubborn but very concerned with appearance particularly touching. Mike himself is not a likable individual but his story is an emotional one. Although I read the book nearly two months ago, I stand by my first notes after finishing when I made an odd comparison of Vital Signs as being what happens when Genova's Still Alice meets Hisham Matar's Anatomy of a Disappearance because of the quiet, serious, and thoughtful way it tackles relationships and brain illness.

My only complaint about Vital Signs is the pictograms included throughout. I (sorta) understand what their purpose is but I didn't particularly appreciate them and found their occurrence fairly random and prone to disrupting the flow of the book. Maybe they would have had more impact for a more visual person but I found them distracting.

Vital Signs is a powerful story with profound character depth, and although it is the first book I have read by McWatt her subtle, intelligent, and thoughtful writing has gotten my attention and I will certainly be reading more by this talented Canadian author in the future.

Irma Voth by Miriam Toews

Irma Voth by Miriam Toews

Release Date: April 5th, 2011
Pages: 272
Format: ARC
Publisher: HarperCollins
Source: TLC Book Tours
Buy It: Book Depository 

Irma Voth follows a young Mennonite woman who carries a terrible family secret with her on a remarkable journey to survival and redemption.

Irma Voth was my first time reading a book by Canadian darling Miriam Toews, although A Complicated Kindness was often mentioned when I was in high school, and I was definitely interested in finding out more about her take on Mennonite culture, an issue she is uniquely posed to address because she grew up living it. The novel itself is a complex, although not particularly lengthy, story of its namesake's life. Other characters play pivotal roles in Irma Voth but ultimately everything comes back to Irma and one terrible secret, a hidden guilt she has held onto for many years.

If Irma Voth was judged solely as a coming-of-age story, without the unique context that the Mennonite religion provides (of course this is impossible and purely theoretical), I am not sure how much of a lasting impression it would have made. Irma's position within the Mennonite community is what makes the novel interesting, but oftentimes it felt almost like a crutch. I wanted a story that was slightly more universal in flavour, a little more emotional- like the memoir of her father's life by Toews I read after this book, Swing Low- and a little less rigid.

Neither the characters nor the Mexican setting really came alive for me in this book and the result was a novel which although interesting, felt clinical in its execution. Based on Irma Voth I am unlikely to pick up another novel by Toews in the near future, but her insight into Mennonite culture has caught my attention and after learning more about it in Swing Low I hope that Toews someday publishes a memoir of her own life.

Swing Low by Miriam Toews

Swing Low is the story of Miriam Toews' father, a man who suffered his whole life from bipolar disorder, keeping his struggles almost entirely to himself as he went against his psychiatrist's predictions that he wouldn't marry, start a family, or hold down a job. Instead, Mel Toews spent a forty years as a respected teacher, married his lifelong sweetheart, and had two happy and successful daughters. Then, after suffering a heart attack which limited the oxygen to his brain causing permanent damage, Mel was forced to retire from teaching, a job that had been as much an escape as a career. Finally, in 1998, he had himself released from the hospital and jumped in front of an incoming train.

With Swing Low Toews has written the story of the brilliant yet troubled man that her father was, how he would be outgoing and vibrant in the classroom only to remain in complete silence and despair at home. Bipolar disorder meant there were two sides to Mel, the manic and the depressive, and as Toews tries to come to terms with both her father's life and death, she attempts to bridge the gap in between the person her father was, and the person he tried so hard to be.

Like Half-Broke Horses by Jeannette Walls, Swing Low is more of a True Life Novel than a traditional memoir or biography. Written almost entirely in the first person from Mel's perspective- with the exception of a short introduction and epilogue- Toews truly lets the reader in on not only the experiences, but the emotions they provoked. I read this memoir after finishing Toews' latest novel, Irma Voth, and was shocked by the difference between the two. Although both take place in a Mennonite community, Swing Low is far more emotional and evocative, while Irma Voth tells a clearer and more distinct story. At first, and for many pages, I found myself very confused by the scattered narrative of Swing Low, the story begins with Mel in his hospital bed, slightly insane from dementia and trying to figure out what is going on. To do so, he goes back through his life, connecting the events that brought him to that moment together. As could be expected with a crazy narrator, sometimes he is quite difficult to follow and so it took a long time for me to get involved in the story. Even though Toews is taking on the voice of her father, it definitely felt genuine, and it's clear she didn't paint him in an idealistic light but instead Mel remains human and flawed. He was a man that tried very hard, but that didn't mean he was perfect.

Ultimately, I feel conflicted over this book. On one hand, it is a rich and inventive look into the mind of mental illness, especially in when it occurs in a not entirely understanding time or culture, which is both unique and believable. But at the same time, sometimes the book was too believable, in that I really felt like it was written by an insane person which made it difficult and not entirely enjoyable to read. Overall, Swing Low is a unique and insightful look into living with mental illness and although I found it confusing at times, it is a strong testament to Mel Toews and a reminder that no matter who we are, our parents remain a part of us.

Release Date: May 28th 2000
Pages: 240
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This review was a part of TLC Book Tours. Click here to read what other tour hosts thought. For the purpose of this review I was provided with a copy of the book which did not require a positive review. The opinions expressed in this post are completely my own.