Saturday, March 31, 2012

"Alpha, Alpha, Alpha! Tales of a Cruise Ship Nurse" by Lorna Pominville

Hi, Brian.
So exciting – the Sarnia Observer covered the launch of Alpha, Alpha, Alpha! at the Honey and Locust Café (see article below). Then I had a call from CBC Radio. They saw the article in the Observer and they’re going to interview me on their "Ontario Morning" program.
Ah, fame at last! ;-)
Ciao,

Lorna

On February 2, 2012, Lorna Pominville launched her new book, Alpha! Alpha! Alpha! Tales of a Cruise Ship Nurse at the Honey and Locust, Specialty Books & Café in Sarnia, Ontario.

Lorna worked in various aspects of nursing in Sarnia and London for twenty-three years before embarking on a new career as a nurse on cruise ships. While at sea she tried her hand at writing by contributing monthly travel articles to an on-line magazine. Lorna finally left the sea after more than ten years of service, and friends began urging her to write a book when they heard her numerous and often humorous stories. Finally, after several years of writing and editing that dream has reached fruition. The result is “Alpha! Alpha! Alpha! Tales of a Cruise Ship Nurse.”

Working on a ship was not as most would expect it to be. Passengers fell ill, became seasick, broke bones, etc and the nursing staff were kept busy tending the sick, performing safety drills as well as performing many non-nursing duties. However, off time did allow them to attend onboard shows, use the gym, attend crew parties and of course go on some wonderful shoreside excursions. She hopes that her readers enjoy the book as much as she enjoyed living the experiences.

Lorna’s book is available at the Honey and Locust, at 180 front Street N, Sarnia, or direct from Lorna at lornapominville@hotmail.com

See Brian Henry's schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

Friday, March 30, 2012

How to Write Great Dialogue workshop, Barrie, Ontario, July 28

The Barrie Writers' Club presents...
"How to Write Great Dialogue"
~ the writer's most important tool ~
Saturday, July 28, 2012
9 a.m. – 12:15 p.m.
The Community Room in Zehrs, 472 Bayfield Street, Barrie
(next to Wal-Mart, across from Georgian Mall – map here.)
Note: I'm also offering this workshop on May 5 in Kitchener. Details here.

Accessible to beginners and meaty enough for experienced writers, this workshop will show you how to use dialogue to make your stories more dynamic and dramatic.

Whether you’re writing fiction or memoir, you need to be able to write great dialogue and need to know how to mix your dialogue and narrative so that your characters come alive.
Come to this workshop and learn both the basics and the best tricks of the trade so that you'll never write a lifeless scene again.


Workshop leader Brian Henry has been a book editor and creative writing teacher for more than 25 years. He has helped many of his students get their first book published and launch their careers as authors.

Fee: $32.74 + 13% hst = $37 mailed in advance
or $36.36 + 13% hst = $40 if you wait to pay at the door
To reserve a spot now, email brianhenry@sympatico.ca

See Brian's full schedule here, including creative writing courses and workshops in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barries, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario, and beyond. 

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

"The Seventh Soldier," an exerpt from a novel in progress by Brad Latham


In the dead of night the phone rang and the nightmare began. Ed could hear the voice on the other end, a paramedic, there has been an accident. Ed Shaw, a burly man in his late forties, grabbed his wife Helen. “Get up.” 

His heart raced tightened his laces as fast as his fingers could move. They leapt out of bed leaving the receiver dangling. Bounding down the old wood stairs, their front door left to snap shut on its own, as the truck engine roared to life. Racing through the night in the pouring rain the old country road that twisted and turned along the hillside, and then they saw it, a wall of police cruisers.

The truck slammed into park. Ed scrambled to loosen his seatbelt, with his eyes locked onto the accident. The yellow and black police line rippled in the night air. A small crowd had gathered. They kept their voices low with their breath fogging in the cold wind. Everyone wondered just how this could have happened in such a peaceful town.

The steady strobe of blue and red emergency lights reflected off the metal and glass of crushed vehicles. Just beyond the flickering tape a lifeless body lay behind the wreckage. The blood from her wounds washed down the sewer in the falling rain. Ed ran for his daughter, and while Helen followed cautiously, the grief had already begun to spread to her heart.

The young officer tried everything to stop him, but quickly realized it was of little use. Ed pushed past the line racing to her lifeless form. Kneeling down one could only image what had happened. The sirens, the ambulances, were of little comfort. A medic firmly placed a hand on his shoulder, “We need to move her, sir.”

But Ed fought it, tugging at her shoulder hopping somehow, someway this lifeless body, his daughter, would respond. The tears began to well up, the sadness set in, she was gone. With his daughter wrapped in his burly arms, deep inside the pain began to set in like a knife. With the wind and the rain beating down, Helen could only look on. Sensing the husband she loved, the daughter she grieved, was a wound that may never close.

Days later Ed barricaded himself inside their country home. The townspeople screamed out for justice and the endless calls from MADD, asking him to be their spokesperson didn’t help matters. His daughter was gone. If only he could have been there, if only he could have warned her, but nothing he did was going to bring her back.

*   *   *

The town of Dakota Springs was not unlike most quiet towns in the northwest surrounded by lush pine cone forest, even the town air smelt sweet to the senses. Fall was setting in and most of the roads leading out of town were already lined in brightly colored leafs. The wooded areas surrounding the town were too dense for hiking, and usually with all local town events no one ever bothered to enter them.

Nothing unusual ever happened in Dakota Springs, life continued on much as it did the day before.

Evening was setting in as the sunset began to fade. The wind whistled through the small town streets as the local parishioner prepared the church for evening mass. It was an annual event and most of the townspeople loved to attend. Candles were lit and offering baskets were prepared with the usual dried soda crackers that substituted for the bread of communion. One of the prettiest services all year, it was one Helen looked forward to most.

Sitting on their country porch, Ed mumbled to himself while fastening the last lace of his heavy boots. Helen was a strong sensible lady with short whisk silver hair and dark almond eyes. Still slender and in shape, she was quite the catch back in the day.

Now she looked down at him with tired eyes, she loved him, but often worried if he could ever let go of their daughter's death. And although it had been many months after the accident, Ed still carried around a heavy heart. Hopefully church would relieve the burden, if only for moment, or at least so Helen prayed. “Let’s go pokey.” She said with a strict but keeping it light tone, “it’s still a fair walk to the church.”

Down the main street, the brisk county air filled Ed’s lungs the sensation for a moment seemed to let him forget the death of his daughter, “this year would have been her 25th birthday.”

Helen wrapped her scarf around her shoulders, ignoring the comment while braving the cool evening air down the small street. “Can’t we just enjoy church for once without thinking about it, just once?” Her tone sharpened. “Just once dear, it would be nice.”

Ed scoffed beneath his breath, “And what good will church do? Why do we bother?’


*   *   *

The church, nestled on the outskirts of town by a deep forest, was beautifully lit with candles lining the window ledges. The building seemed to radiate beautiful melody as the organ called to worship the parishioners gathering in the cool autumn. The trees in the courtyard released what few brightly coloured leaves they had left. Behind the gray wood and brick building was an old cemetery that was rarely used and even less often visited. But beyond it was a deepening wood that created a thick wall, dense and impenetrable by human sight, an almost haunting quality.

The church inside was scarcely lit other than the warm flicker of candle light that seemed just enough for the faithful to find their way to their seats. The parishioners one by one filled the pews, slowly unbundled their coats and scarfs. Most, content to be in from the cool air, kept to casual chat about the unusual blustering weather.

The church had a musty oak smell and the hard wood pew creaked as Ed slumped into it. The choir robed in orange and yellow, gathered before them with hymnals cradled in their arms. The choir master signaled all to rise. Though the singing was beautiful as the music filled the air, ED just didn’t seem to care anymore. As far as he was concerned they were being asked to stand up and sit down far more than he would bother to. He would be glad when the service was finally over.

Out of the corner of his eye a small boy playing with the latest action figure, obviously brought by keeping carefully concealed beneath his jacket. The boy was strategically placed at the end of the pew by his mother, hoping the toy would keep him distracted as she bounced her newborn baby in her arms. It was all she could do to keep both children occupied.

The large window adjacent to the pews, was a mixture of clear glass and floral pattern, the magnificent window nearly spanned the entire height of the wall giving Ed a clear view of the deepening forest. In the church courtyard the wind picked up whipping through the trees, unexpected given the time of year.

Without warning, the double doors, solid wood but poorly latched together, thundered open, slamming against the back wall. Embarrassed by the sudden clatter, an usher quickly pulled the doors together securing them tightly.  But restlessness was spreading thought the congregation. Everyone could feel it as the building began to creak and moan. The windows knocked and the wood panes shuttered. People looked on nervously as they continued to sing. Some began to fidget with their coats, wondering if they should quickly leave.

The wind howled in the courtyard, twisting and circling the building, like a stalking predator.  A tree branch, without warning, slashed across the window like a dark claw, startling the congregation. Ed looked on curiously as the entire building began to creak and moan.

The candles on the altar began to flicker, but what bothered him was they were flickering in the same direction, the wooden church was old but there was little wind in the room.

Outside the roar of thunder rippled across the country side. A flash of white light burst across the sky as the clouds above swirled in unnatural patterns. Completely absorbed in his own world, the small boy continued to play by the window. The single mom looked about nervously while cradling her baby. Finally, she extended a hand to her son, forcing him to stop playing, “Stay close.” She whispered.

The wood floor boards began to creek apart. The parishioners stopped singing. Each gazed around at the wondering if the building would hold. The candles flickered once more then silently went out.

Everyone remained breathless as the room grew dark, fearful to what would happen next. Before any could breath, a thunder so loud shook the building. The panels of glass crackled, exploding across the room like sharp daggers. Without a second thought, Ed lunged for the small boy using his large frame as a shield. He yelled at the terrified single mom, “Get your baby out of here. Go now!”

But before he knew it, in the pitch dark, smoke bellowed into the room. Ushers scrambled to find what flashlights they could. People’s voices turned to panic, then fear. The church elders had to act quickly. Two men in the back pews fumbled in the dark with the worn out door latches. “I need a light!” one deacon shouted.

Clicking the flash-light on, the other deacon, a tall slender man, was quick to point it on the latch. He jerked up on the rusty handles, again and again. One woman cried out, “Get us out of here.” Parishioners covered their mouths with coats and scarfs as the thick smoke billowed into the room. Finally, the latch was free, the doors burst open.

As smoke poured into the courtyard, two latecomers watched in horror as the forest lit up in brilliant flame surrounding the church. Looking on, the woman clutched her husband. “Call the fire dept, quickly.”

Ed made for the back door with the boy tucked beneath his arms, pushing through the billowing smoke. Once outside, he yelled to Helen, “I need to make sure everyone is out.”

Charging back into the church hunting for anyone still remaining he glanced around the room as something caught his eye. Out of the far smashed window a thin trail of smoke faded off into the dark forest. Branches had been forced aside leaving a trail plowed through the woods. He was curious but this was no time to follow it.

With his sleeve covering his mouth, there was time for one last glance around the room. Satisfied everyone was gone he charged outside. The forest fire raged as the local pumper pulled up to the front of the church. The fire crew worked furiously to unravel the fire hose. Many of the locals volunteered to douse the flames with buckets of water. Tired and worried, the parishioners huddled together in the small courtyard, looking on as the building lit up in flames, each wondering how this could have happened.

The crew continued into the night pouring water on the buildings charred remains. As Ed watched intently, something about the church roof caught his eye; a portion looked indented, as if something had bounced off it. His eye followed the trial, it lead deep into the wood.

As the firemen opened the nozzles spraying down the church, all the members were out and accounted for, no one was hurt. The little boy safely returned into his mother’s arms, and for the moment, Ed felt a sigh of relief. The firemen continued to battle the blaze as he took Helen’s hand and strolled for home, it had been quite a night.
*  *  *

Brad Latham lives in Mississauga with his two children Corbin and Julia. Brad has written and produced several well received plays for local community churches. As a writer of supernatural tales, he loves to explore the broader themes of redemption and the moral state of man. He would like to thank Brian Henry for his encouragement during his classes and workshops. Tonight he is reading a suspenseful chapter from his second full length novel."

For information about Brian Henry's upcoming weekly creative writing courses, see here.

See Brian's full schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

House of Anansi Press publishes literary fiction, crime fiction, serious non-fiction, poetry and children's books

The Sisters Brothers by Patrick deWitt,
published by House of Anansi Press
The House of Anansi Press has been around 45 years and has published significant Canadian authors such as Margaret Atwood, Matt Cohen, Michael Ondaatje, and Erín Moure, as well as George Grant and Northrop Frye.

In June 2002, House of Anansi was purchased from Stoddart Publishing by Scott Griffin, the founder of the prestigious Griffin Poetry Prize. In 2005, Anansi expanded its business by acquiring the children's publisher, Groundwood Books, and in 2010, the company launched Spiderline, a new imprint dedicated to crime fiction. 

Anansi remains best known for literary fiction, serious nonfiction and poetry.

They look for novels with a unique flair, memorable characters, and a strong narrative voice. Anansi fiction writers have read widely, studied their craft, and often have previously published in reputable literary journals and/or magazines.

In non-fiction, Anansi seeks books that are meticulously researched to support a strong thesis, that avoid dry, jargon-filled academic prose and have a literary twist that will interest general readers and experts alike.

Anansi publishes poets who have already established a strong reputation. Anansi poets usually have had poems previously published in book form or in reputable literary journals and/or magazines.

Update, Nov 7, 2013: Anansi also publishes short story collections. Under its Astoria imprint, Anansi publishes three titles per year, acquired by senior editor Jared Bland. Hellgoing by Lynn Coady, one of the first books published under this new imprint, won the 2013 Scotiabank Giller Prize, establishing Astoria not only as a prestigious imprint but also as financially viable.

To submit:

  • Consider if your submission is compatible with Anansi's publishing program. Take the time to look at the titles on our web site.
  • Include a covering letter telling us about yourself and your book, and a CV indicating your publishing history, if applicable. Anansi prefers writers who already have a history of published works (e.g. previous books, anthologies, literary/academic journals, newspaper/magazine articles etc.).
  • Mail us a query letter outlining your project and providing a brief synopsis if you are unsure if your work is appropriate for Anansi. We will advise you on whether or not to proceed with a formal submission.
  • Always include a self-addressed stamped envelope (SASE) with your submission. It will be used to send your review letter. Manuscripts without a SASE will not be returned.
  • Enclose a self-addressed, stamped postcard with your submission if you would like confirmation that it has been received.
  • Be patient. Anansi receives hundreds of queries and submissions a month and it takes time for them to be read and evaluated. We respond to all submissions received.

Do not:

  • Send us a submission if you are not a Canadian citizen or resident. Anansi does not accept unsolicited materials from non-Canadian writers.
  • Email submissions or queries.
  • Send complete manuscripts. They are costly for you to send, and cumbersome for us to store. Please mail a 5-10 page sample of your work. If we decide to consider your work further after reading the sample, we will request the rest of the manuscript.
  • Send original artwork, irreplaceable materials, or the ONLY copy of your manuscript in existence. Keep your originals and send us copies.
  • Contact us regarding the status of your submission. We keep track of all submissions received.
  • Expect feedback. Anansi does not offer editorial comment on manuscripts unless we feel the work has potential for our list.

Please mail all queries and submissions to:

Manuscript Submissions
House of Anansi Press
110 Spadina Ave., Suite 801
Toronto, ON M5V 2K4
CANADA

Full submission guidelines here. Anansi home page here. For information on Anansi’s children’s imprint, Groundwood Books, see here.


Brian Henry will lead "Writing for Children and for Young Adults" workshops in London, Ontario, on April 21 (see here) and in Oakville on June 2 (see here).

Also, Brian will lead "How to Get Published" workshops on Saturday, May 12, in Newmarket with Meghan Macdonald of Transatlantic Literary Agency (see here), Saturday, June 9, in Brampton with Monica Pacheco of the Anne McDermid literary agency (see here), and Saturday, June 16, in Hamilton with Carly Watters of P.S. Literary Agency (see here).

See Brian's full schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

Monday, March 26, 2012

Sibella Poetry Magazine's International Women's Poetry Contest, deadline April 20

Hi, Brian.

Last spring I entered Sibella Poetry Magazine's International Women's Poetry Contest. Although I was not in the top four, I was selected as one of twenty-five women from around the world to write inspirational poetry for the inaugural 2012 season of Sibella Poetry magazine, and I could not be happier to be a part of such a wonderful publication.

I was introduced to Sibyl Magazine about a year ago by a friend of mine, and I fell in love with it. Both Sibyl Magazine and Sibella Poetry are on-line publications with over 20,000 subscribers worldwide, focused on messages of light, love and joy, providing words of inspiration and enlightenment for your spiritual journey.

Please pass on to any woman you know who might be interested in the contest, or in subscribing to either (or both) magazines.  

Cheers!
Linda Spencer
http://ridgeview-glen.blogspot.ca/

Note:  The deadline for the Sibella Poetry Contest is April 20, 2012. The entry fee is $6 per poem. See complete rules and instructions for entering here.

You can download the Feb/March issue here. Linda's poem, "Wide Open," is on page 22.

For information about all the annual writing contests in Canada, order the Canadian Writers' Contest Calendar, just $23.50 including all taxes and shipping. For details, email brianhenry@sympatico.ca

See Brian Henry's schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

“War Horse,” reviewed by Tony Markin

War Horse is based on a children’s book by Michael Morpurgo, adapted for stage by Nick Stafford, Directed by Marianne Elliott & Tom Morris. Until September 30 at the Princess of Wales Theatre.

How often do you see a play when the stars of the show do not utter a word on stage?

How often do you see a show when you do not even see the faces belonging to the stars of the show? Well, if you go and see “War Horse” now playing at the Princess of Wales theatre in Toronto you will see both.

Two years ago our daughter was taking a course in England and she raved about this play she had seen at the National Theatre in London. We thought it was rather an odd choice as she abhors war and had never been a horse lover. So it was with some trepidation when she took us to see the all Canadian production as her Christmas gift to us.

We need not have worried because from the curtain rising to the cast taking their bows to a standing ovation, we were absolutely transfixed. The two prominent performers are the horses Joey and Topthorn; however the real stars are the puppeteers/manipulators of the horses, which operate in teams of three.

The story line is that of a foal bought by a rather incalcitrant Devon farmer to spite his brother. He gives the foal to his son, Albert, who names the foal Joey and trains him. Joey gets conscripted into the army for the First World War and is shipped to France. Albert enlists underage and sets out to reunite with his beloved horse.

The construction of the horses is magnificent. Incredibly they weigh one hundred and twenty pounds and support a rider. The puppeteers have obviously spent hours studying horses and are able to demonstrate every nuance. In fact, I got so entranced with the lifelike appearance of the horses, towards the end of the performance when was about to be shot I almost screamed “please don’t shoot the horse “

 I am not a war aficionado and have never owned a horse, although I have ridden one, I can thoroughly recommend this show.  In 2011, War Horse won six Tony awards, triumphing in every category in which it was nominated. One slight word of caution, there is a lot of loud gunfire during the war scenes, which could possibly disturb very young children. On the other hand there is a delightful role of an eleven year old French girl in the second act, charmingly played by a young girl from Burlington.

*

Tony Markin was born and educated in England. He retired after a thirty five year career in the Petroleum Industry. He has had stories and poems published in newspapers and magazines. He has performed in amateur dramatics in such iconic roles as the Queen of England, a Mad Scientist and a Pirate Radio DJ. He is an award winning gardener, an oeneophile, a classic rock music aficionado, a neophyte guitarist and has written lyrics to a blues song.

See Brian's full schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.


Friday, March 23, 2012

Paul Lucas of Janklow & Nesbit seeks commercial and literary fiction; Julie Just seeks children’s lit

Janklow & Nesbit Associates
445 Park Avenue
New York, NY 10022-2606
http://www.janklowandnesbit.com/ 


Janklow & Nesbit are a powerhouse literary agency with offices in New York and London. Clients include Anne Rice (Interview with a Vampire), William Goldman (The Princess Bride), Bill O' Reilly (The O'Reilly Factor, Culture Warrior), Malcolm Gladwell (The Tipping Point, Blink), David McCullough(Truman), Michael Moore (Fahrenheit 9/11), etc.

Total number of clients: about 1,000. "Some of them are deceased, but only a tiny fraction," says agent Luke Janklow. 
We do look at everything,” he adds. “What gets invited in is a very small portion of that."



Paul Lucas is the most junior agent at Janklow & Nesbit (and thus the agent most in neeed of auhtors). He was raised in the suburbs of New York, but received a degree in Literature from McGill University in Montreal, in 2003, where he specialized in the incredibly useful fields of Modern Canadian Poetry and Early Modern Theatre.

He appreciated the diversity of culture, language, politics and ideas, as well as the proximity to skiing in the Green Mountains of Vermont and the Laurentians of Quebec.

Paul is interested in a wide variety of commercial and literary fiction, as well as specific nonfiction. 
In fiction, he enjoys both character and plot driven novels but it’s important to him for the storytelling to be clear and accessible. In genre fiction, he is looking for thrillers, spy, science fiction and fantasy genre writing, as well as literary novels. He appreciates a literary bent, subverting genre and darker, conflicted characters. Finally, he loves historical fiction and war novels.
 
For nonfiction, he is interested in representing popular science books, new ways of exploring the major sports and narrative histories. (He does not represent romance, westerns, women’s fiction, memoir, self-help, children’s or picture books.)

Query Paul at plucas@janklow.com
Attach the first 3 chapters of your book, a synopsis and brief bio.

Julie Just also started with Janklow & Nesbit as an agent fairly recently (in October 2010). Previously, she worked for the New York Times for 16 years, most recently as editor of children’ book reviews. Her specialty is children's literature -- illustrated books, middle grade, young adult and graphic novels, with a particular interest in literary fiction, adventure, mystery, fantasy, and romance.

She is also interested in some humour and adult fiction and non-fiction (Adventure/true story, Pop Culture, and Narrative Non-Fiction).

Query Julie at jjust@janklow.com
Attach the first chapter of your manuscript. She is not interested in long synopses, just two or three paragraphs, tops.

Second photo Atheneum art director Ann Bobco, author/illustrator Ian Falconer, literary agent Brenda Bowen, & Julie Just

Brian Henry will lead "Writing for Children and for Young Adults" workshops in London, Ontario, on April 21 (see here) and in Oakville on June 2 (see here). 

Brian will also lead 
"How to Get Published" workshops on Saturday, May 12, in Newmarket with Meghan Macdonald of Transatlantic Literary Agency (see here), Saturday, June 9, in Brampton with Monica Pacheco of The Anne McDermid literary agency (see here), and Saturday, June 16, in Hamilton with Carly Watters of P.S. Literary Agency (see here).


See Brian's full schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.


Thursday, March 22, 2012

The Blind Hem, The Healing Muse, and Cactus Heart are all looking for material

The Blind Hem (http://www.theblindhem.com/) is an online magazine in blog form. Our mission is to portray fashion and personal style in an intelligent & honest way, through words and art. We believe in diversity, inclusivity, feminism and truth.

Our features range from non-fiction to fiction to art and photography. We are interested in the different lenses through which personal style can be viewed – and we are interested in the stories behind the clothes.

The Blind Hem is always looking for new material! Submission must have some connection to fashion and the art of dressing. This doesn’t mean you have to name-drop top designers in your short-story or wax poetic about Louboutin shoes.

This simply means that there must be some connection to clothing – perhaps it is the old t-shirt that evokes a memory, or the outfit that brought the most humiliation. Or it is the appropriation of indigenous cultures by mass-produced clothing. Or the color of a backpack worn by your crush as it recedes down the hall. As long as there is a noticeable connection to the art of dressing, we will consider the piece.

Please send all queries and completed pieces to contribute@theblindhem.com
Full submission guidelines here.

The Healing Muse, an annual journal of literary and visual art published by Upstate Medical University's Center for Bioethics and Humanities, is looking for artists and writers for this year's fall publication. Welcomes fiction, poetry, narratives, essays, memoirs, drawings, photography, and graphic art, particularly -- but not exclusively -- focusing on themes of medicine and healing. Deadline: May 1, 2012.

Cactus Heart, a new e-literary magazine, is seeking submissions of poetry, fiction, nonfiction, photos & art. Cactus Heart publishes new and original fiction, poetry, nonfiction, book reviews, drawings, and photography. We seek spiny writing--writing that is sharp, relentless, coursing with energy and able to thrive in the harshest of places, all while maintaining a vulnerable, succulent interior. We want writing and art that make us swoon.
Check out the submissions page for more details here.

See Brian's full schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.