New Year's Wishes: Work, Venues, More Work

For the new year, and in no particular order, some personal wishes. I'd like to see writers getting back to their writing. Yes, writers are citizens and have opinions about politics, sports, fashion, the economy and god knows what else. So why not save them for their fiction? In Hogtown late last year Margaret Atwood got into a nasty public punch up with Mayor Rob Ford over municipal cutbacks. The formidable Ms. Atwood won - as we all knew she would. But wouldn't she have done better to take on the, er, entertaining Brothers Ford, Rob and Councillor Doug, in fiction? Of course, she still may pinion them like butterflies under glass in some future work. But I can't help but think that the energy Ms. Atwood used slugging it out with the nitwits at City Hall has been lost for good. Same thing with Russell Smith, a fine writer whose novel How Insensitive (Porcupine's Quill) remains his best work. I know he has to make a living, but telling the terminally insecure how to lace their shoes (yup, a reader actually asked that question) in a fashion advice column for the Globe and Mail? D.J'ing at downtown events? Can you imagine Evelyn Waugh doing such a thing?

I go to a number of readings here in Hogtown. Some are one-offs and some are long standing such as Word Stage. Their quality is uneven, but that's to be expected and part of the fun: who knows when a writer will take the stage and pow! you're smitten for all time by their prose or poetry? That's the good stuff about readings. Not so good are their venues. I know it's hard for publishers and series' organizers to find suitable spots for novelists and poets to read their work, but two frequently used bars in the Annex, Dooney's and Pauper's Pub upstairs room, whatever their other merits, just don't cut it for me. Poor acoustics, inconvenient layouts for readings and high prices for booze will eventually drive the punters away. And while we're at it, why do readings have to be in bars, anyhow? There are coffee shops and bookstores and all manner of places that could be explored. Maybe publishers and organizers could form some sort of loosey-goosey "venue committee" to find spaces that work. If they did I bet they'd draw bigger crowds and sell more books.

As far as I know Alan Furst has no connection to T.O. He's a native New Yorker (and a Parisian at heart), so why is his name here? It's because he has a new book out in June, Mission to Paris (Simon & Schuster) and I'm hoping his publisher will send him here to read. I have all of his WWII espionage fiction and have enjoyed every one, even if I found his last two or three a bit wanting. So please, S&S, do his Canadian fans a favour.

I've been a member of four writers' groups. One was a dead loss (the organizer thought insults counted as criticism) and I stayed a couple of weeks. Another was like a bad creative writing class in high school and I quickly bailed. A third was generally good with the best format for critique/response, and the most talented writers. The one I'm in now is OK and improving. But in all of them there's been a demonstrable lack of commitment by some members: no shows, late arrivals, poor or atrocious spelling, grammar and punctuation, scrambled syntax that's the sign of a rush to finish, and so on. Writing isn't a simple hobby that can be picked up and put down at will, like knitting. Writing is a big deal and requires serious application. So if you're not serious then chose some other pursuit. A Margaret Atwood story - since we began with her - and which may well be apocryphal, demonstrates what I mean. Early in her career MA was at a dinner party and seated next to a man she didn't know. He asked her what she did for a living and MA replied she was a writer. Oh, he said, when I retire I'm going to be a writer. And what do you do, MA asked the man. I'm a brain surgeon, he answered. Well, said MA, when I retire I'm going to take up brain surgery.