Tuesday, November 19, 2024

In Baba's Kitchen by Tya Colby

Tya and her Baba

They say scents are one of the most evocative prompts for memories, and that is certainly true for me. Whenever I catch the scent of vanilla, I close my eyes and immediately I can see my beloved Baba Dulchewsky, wide face creased in a smile under thick bushy eyebrows, grey hair pulled tightly back, her chunky body encased in a long cotton house dress with a broad homemade apron tied around her waist and covering her ample bosom.

My maternal grandparents emigrated from Russia, where the word for grandmother is Baba, and the word for grandfather is Gydo (JEE-doh). They never spoke completely in English – their conversation was a blend between what little English they knew, and the Russian they were more comfortable with.

The strong vanilla scent came from the nearby Thorold paper mill, just one block away, where my Gydo worked. In the 1950’s they cured the paper in vanilla, and it permeated their neighborhood, flavouring the air for miles around.

Back in those days there was no Thorold tunnel. When we went to visit, we often had to wait for almost an hour to cross a raised bridge on the Welland Canal that led to Baba and Gydo’s tiny home in Thorold South. I would always roll my window down in the car – even a crack on the coldest days – to catch those first trickles of vanilla, anticipating a warm and loving welcome.

There are more scents that evoke memories of my Baba. My earliest memory, just one brief flash in my first year, is of sitting in Baba’s wide plump lap – her dipping small pieces of homemade bread in a small bowl of milk and feeding them to me.

Her clothing redolent of cabbage, bacon, onions, and flour. You see, my Baba was an incredible cook and baker. She made everything from scratch, and to this day, I still use her simple recipe for holubtsi (HOLL’up-chee), better known as cabbage rolls. And whenever I make pyrohy (PEH’ roh-HEH), which most people know as peroghi.

Tya's Gydo and Baba

Baba always had an empty red and white Campbell’s soup can beside the stove, in which she kept her bacon grease, carefully scraped from her wide cast iron frying pan after every bacon fry. When the time came to cook the pyrohy, she would first boil them, to seal them.

She’d then scoop out a generous wad of filmy bacon grease out of her soup can and ease it into her frying pan along with a handful of chopped onions. The pyrohy would be dropped into this aromatic blend, sizzling and steaming until both sides had a light crust of brown.

At that point, she’d fill one of her pale green depression plates with a pile of them, and add an overly generous dollop of sour cream. As we ate, she’d hang over us at her grey kitchen table beside the window, nodding and encouraging us with, “YeeshchYeeshch!” “Eat! Eat!”

In a Russia where she had starved, making and serving food was the strongest form of love, and she showed us this love every time we came to visit.

To this day I make holuptsi and pyrohy every fall and winter using Baba’s recipes from the old country - usually at the first snowfall. As the delectable scents of cabbage, bacon grease, and onion flavour the air, I am transported back to Baba’s kitchen, and I can almost hear her deep, heavily-accented voice lovingly encouraging me, “Yeeshchmalen’kiyYeeshch.”

And once again, I’m a little girl, loved and loving, lost in a rare sweet memory of unsullied innocence.

Tya Colby made a living writing nonfiction in every way possible for 35 years: radio newscasts, investigative reports, video scripts, radio & television commercials, magazine articles – to name a few. Now she is writing nonfiction from a personal standpoint, currently working on a childhood autobiography.

She also writes fiction. Her first attempt – an erotic story entitled Ageless Love (written in one of Brian’s workshops) – ended up winning first prize in a national contest and has also been published in the short story book, Moist.

She prefers writing stories or poetry with a twist at the end, so that you feel compelled to read the story again. There is always more to a situation than many people realize, and she likes to shake people up, have them reframe the way they judge situations and people – in fiction, and in real life.  

See upcoming weekly writing classes, one-day workshops, and four-day retreats here

Read more short stories, essays, and reviews by your fellow writers here (and scroll down).

Monday, November 18, 2024

You're invited to “Writing Personal Stories & Other Nonfiction”

“Writing Personal Stories & Other Nonfiction”

In-person: Thursday evenings, 7 – 9 p.m.
Jan 23 – Feb 27 (Or to March 6 if the class is full)
Burlington Anglican Lutheran Church
3455 Lakeshore Rd, Burlington, Ontario (Map 
here)

Note: You can take a similar class online. See here.

If you want to write any kind of true story, this course is for youPersonal stories will be front and centre – we’ll look at memoirs, travel writing, personal essays, family history – but we’ll also look at writing feature articles, creative nonfiction and other more informational writing. Plus, of course, we’ll work on creativity and writing technique and have fun doing it. 

Whether you want to write a book or just get your thoughts down on paper, this weekly course will get you going. We'll reveal the tricks and conventions of telling true stories, and we’ll show you how to use the techniques of the novel to recount actual events. Weekly writing exercises and friendly feedback from the instructor will help you move forward on this writing adventure. Whether you want to write for your family and friends or for a wider public, don't miss this course.

Instructor Brian Henry has been a book editor and creative writing instructor for more than 25 years. He publishes Quick Brown Fox, Canada's most popular blog for writers, teaches creative writing at Ryerson University (now called Toronto Metropolitan University) and has led workshops everywhere from Boston to Buffalo and from Sarnia to Saint John. But his proudest boast is that he’s has helped many of his students get published. 

Read pieces about ~ or inspired by ~ Brian's retreats, courses and workshops here (and scroll down).

Fee: $212.39 plus 13% hst = $240

To reserve your spot, email: brain.henry123@gmail.com

See all of Brian’s upcoming weekly writing classes, one-day workshops, and weekend retreats here.

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Brucedale is a small press with a cool contest

The Brucedale Press

Box 2259
Port Elgin, Ontario N0H 2C0

https://www.brucedalepress.ca/  

Note: To get new postings delivered to your Inbox when they go up, visit the Quick Brown Fox substack page and subscribe: https://brian999.substack.com/ 

The Brucedale Press is a small independent publisher that produces books of poetry, fiction, nonfiction, historical, and pictorial works with a strong focus on the Queen's Bush (the area between Waterloo County and Lake Huron) and the Bruce Peninsula in Ontario, Canada. Brucedale publishes books both for children (up to grade 5) and adults. All books must be from Canadian authors and illustrators. 

Unless responding to an invitation to submit, query first by Canada Post with outline and sample chapter for book-length manuscripts. Send full manuscript for work intended for children. A brief resume of your writing efforts and successes is always of interest, and may bring future invitations, even if your present offering is not accepted for publication.

See Brucedale’s full submission guidelines here.

Brucedale also publishes The Leaf, a twice-yearly literary journal. The Leaf presents poetry, short fiction, reviews, essay, and author profiles from the Bruce Peninsula & Queen's Bush, traditional territory of the Saugeen Anishinaabek. Read more about The Leaf here.

Finally, Brucedale holds one of the coolest writing contests in Canada – their annual Acrostic Contest, which requires you to write a story in 26 sentences. For this year, you must begin with the phrase: X-rays cannot show… Then use 25 more sentences to tell your story, going through the alphabet in reverse order. So your second sentence begins with a W, and so on. After A, then a sentence beginning with Z, and ending your story with a sentence that begins with Y.

Entry fee is $5 for each story. First prize: 25% of the entry fees; second prize: 15% of the entry fees; third prize: 10% of the entry fees. The judge may award up to three honorable mentions. Authors of all published stories will receive a one-year subscription (two issues) of The Leaf.

Deadline: You must submit by mail and your entry must arrive by January 31, 2025

See the full contest guidelines here.

Note: If you’re interested in meeting an agent and in getting published, don’t miss our upcoming “How to Get Published” workshop. Details here.

See all of Brian Henry's upcoming weekly writing classes, one-day workshops, and four-day retreats here.

Navigation tips: Always check out the Labels underneath a post; they’ll lead you to various distinct collections of postings. For more children’s and young adult publishers, see here {and scroll down}. For book publishers in general, see here {and scroll down}.

Friday, November 15, 2024

You're invited to a “(Not so) Extreme Creative Writing” course in Burlington

“(Not so) Extreme Creative Writing”

 ~ For more experienced writers 

In-person: Thursday afternoons, 12:30 – 3:00 p.m.
Jan 16 – Feb 26, 2025 (Or to March 5 if the class fills up)
First readings emailed Jan 9.
Burlington Anglican Lutheran Church
3455 Lakeshore Rd, Burlington, Ontario (Map 
here)

Brian also has a number of “Intensive Creative Writing” classes coming up. These are similar to the “Extreme” class, but are all online. See here.

Extreme Creative Writing isn't like an extreme sport – it doesn't demand something crazy – but it is meant for writers who have been writing for a while or who have done a course or two before and are working on their own projects.

You’ll be asked to bring in a few pieces of your writing for detailed feedback, including a couple longish pieces. All your pieces may be from the same work, such as a novel in progress, or they may be stand-alone pieces, such as essays, picture book manuscripts, or short stories. You bring whatever you want to work on. 

Besides critiquing pieces, we’ll have discussions on topics of interest to the class. In addition to learning how to critique your own work and receiving constructive suggestions about your writing, you’ll discover that the greatest benefits come from seeing how your classmates approach and critique a piece of writing and how they write and re-write. This is a challenging course, but extremely rewarding.

Instructor Brian Henry has been a book editor and creative writing instructor for more than 25 years. He publishes Quick Brown Fox, Canada's most popular blog for writers, taught creative writing at Ryerson University (now called Toronto Metropolitan University) and has led workshops everywhere from Boston to Buffalo and from Sarnia to Saint John. 

But Brian’s proudest boast is that he’s has helped many of his students get published.  

Read reviews and other pieces about Brian's various courses and workshops here (and scroll down).

Fee: $256.64 + hst = $290

To reserve your spot, email: brain.henry123@gmail.com

(Note, the odd spelling of the email is correct: b-r-a … )

See all of Brian’s upcoming weekly writing classes, one-day workshops, and weekend retreats here.

Monday, November 11, 2024

You're invited to an "Intensive Creative Writing" class

Intensive Creative Writing

Offered online at 3 different times:

Tuesday evenings 6:30 – 9:00
Jan 14 – Feb 25 (or to March 4 if the class fills up). First readings emailed Jan 7.

Wednesday afternoons, 12:30 – 3:00
Jan 15 – Feb 26 (or to March 5 if the class fills up). First readings emailed Jan 8.

Friday mornings 10:00 – 12:30
Jan 17 – Feb 28 (or to March 7 if the class fills up). First readings emailed Jan 10.

We also have an in-person “(Not so) Extreme Creative Writing” class on Thursday afternoons, Jan 16 – Feb 27, in Burlington. This is the same as an Intensive class, but with a cooler name 😊 ~Brian. Details to come, but to reserve a spot in the “Extreme” class, email me at: brain.henry123@gmail.com  

Intensive Creative Writing isn't for beginners; it's for people who are working on their own writing projects. You’ll be asked to bring in several pieces of your writing for detailed feedback. All your pieces may be from the same work, such as a novel in progress, or they may be stand-alone pieces, such as short stories or essays. You bring whatever you want to work on. 

Besides critiquing pieces, the instructor will give short lectures addressing the needs of the group, and in addition to learning how to critique your own work and receiving constructive suggestions about your writing, you’ll discover that the greatest benefits come from seeing how your classmates approach and critique a piece of writing and how they write and re-write. This is a challenging course, but extremely rewarding.

Instructor Brian Henry has been a book editor and creative writing instructor for more than 25 years. He publishes Quick Brown Fox, Canada's most popular blog for writers, taught creative writing at Ryerson University (now Toronto Metropolitan University) and has led workshops everywhere from Boston to Buffalo and from Sarnia to Saint John. But his proudest boast is that he has helped many of his students get published.   

Read reviews and pieces about or inspired by Brian's various writing courses, workshops and retreats here (and scroll down).

Fee: $256.64 + hst = $290

To reserve your spot, email: brain.henry123@gmail.com 

See all of my upcoming weekly writing classes, one-day workshops, and four-day retreats here~Brian

Saturday, November 9, 2024

Congratulations to Yvonne and Susan, winner and finalist in the CANSCAIP Writing for Children Contest


Hi, Brian.

My I am Cheetah won the Picture Book category for the CANSCAIP contest. I can’t believe it! I’m so excited!

The story came from a prompt in your Kid Lit class, and thanks so much to you and to Susan and the rest of the class for helping with it.

Yvonne Denomy

 

Hi, Brian.

I just wanted to let you know that I am one of the finalists for the CANSCAIP writing contest for my picture book, A Monster's Guide to Children. And the winner is Yvonne Denomy, one of my former classmates with you 😊 !

Thank you so much for all of your support and assistance with this story and so many others.  Can't wait to take Picture Book Intensive with you in the winter.

Susan Wollison

 

Congratulations also to Linda Hutton for The Frozen Pond, which also won in the Picture Book category and to Heather McLennan for Willa and the Wildfire, which was the other finalist.

Plus congratulations to everyone in all the categories who made it to the final round, to the short list (here) and the longlist (here)!

And of course, a big thank you to the many volunteers at CANSCAIP who read through and gave feedback to the 1,400 entries in this year’s Writing for Children Competition

***

See all my upcoming weekly writing classes, one-day workshops, and four-day  retreats - including an upcoming Picture Book Intensive class here~Brian

See more good news from your fellow writers here (and scroll down).

And if you’ve had any good news, send me an email so I can share your success. As writers, we’re all in this together, and your success gives us all a boost. 

Email me at: brianhenry@sympatico.ca

 

 

Monday, November 4, 2024

“The Necklace” by Debra P. McGill

 

Three more weeks until my retirement, not just from St. Stephen’s on-the-Hill United Church, in Mississauga, but from ministry in all its many and varied forms. I have heard it said that our identity is not our occupation, our vocation, but being a “reverend”, a “minister” has been so intimately woven into the very fibre of who I am, I’m not certain if I will be able to separate the threads without leaving a large tear in the fabric.

Three more weeks until my retirement and I’m standing in the sanctuary of my church looking over tables of handcrafted cards and home brewed Kombucha, wheel thrown pottery and woodworking, artisan jewelry and other works of art.

The annual church garage sale has, since COVID, become a vendors’ sale, and I’m determined to spend my last couple of paycheques supporting as many of the vendors as I can, knowing that in a month’s time, there won’t be any more salary to spend.

I stood for a few minutes at the jewelry table gently fingering the long slender piece of amber entwined in thin, silver wire, dangling from a silver chain. All my other purchases were thankyou gifts for other people, family and folk at my church, but this necklace, it was to be for me. Sharon, a parishioner, came up beside me.

“That’s pretty.” She said. “Do you like it better than the others?”

The artist had made many different styles of amber necklaces, one of which I bought at last year’s sale, but this particular one caught my eye.

“I do like this one.” I said. “But I have to think about it.”

“Don’t think too long,” Sharon said. “Someone else is bound to like it too!”

We chatted for another minute, and then I left to check out some pottery on a table at the other end of the room. By the time I made my way back to the jewelry, Sharon had been right. Someone else liked that same necklace. It was gone.

My last Sunday was filled with laughter and tears, lots of cards and kind words, small and large gift bags and after the service was over . . . fellowship time and an abundance of food . . . more than enough for all.

Later, after most people had left, my family helped me pack everything into my car and turning left at the end of the long church driveway, I made my way to the highway, pointed my car towards Sarnia and headed to my new home.

Except for an air mattress, a cooking pot, a few dishes, church clothes and my laptop, I had moved all of my furniture, clothes, books, office paraphernalia and sundry household goods from my small condo apartment three weeks before. So when I opened the door to my new home, I was greeted by furniture not yet arranged, a bed and a treadmill not yet assembled, piles of boxes not yet unpacked and pictures not yet hung on walls.

It was almost a week before I got around to opening the cards and gifts from the people from my church I had come to love. And there, nested in a piece of tissue paper and carefully slipped inside a card, was a long slender piece of amber, entwined in thin, silver wire, dangling from a silver chain. 

I am addicted to black turtlenecks, but given the sultry, humid +300C Sarnia summer, I knew I wouldn’t be able to wear a black turtleneck to show off my new necklace just yet, and so it hung in my closet, anxiously waiting for cooler weather.

Sarnia is not a big city. I’m a five-minute walk to a beach and five minutes in the car takes me downtown.  The beautiful St. Clair River runs parallel to Front Street and its old, historic store fronts. As I drove, I noticed a tent pitched in a park on the river’s edge and then two tents, then three. Having lost count, I realized this was a tent city, “home” to a small village of homeless men and women.

I have long been a believer in God-incidences, not so much coincidences of happenstance, but God-incidences, those things I need to take notice of. In the four-page Sarnia and Lambton County “This Week” newspaper (with its 20lbs of flyers stuffed inside) were articles about Rainbow Park and the unhoused people living there in tents and tarps.

“Everyone is invited to the homelessness forum being held at the Dante Club” the article said. “September 25th at 7:00 p.m.”

I marked it in my calendar, and I went. The evening had cooled off and so I wore my “summer” black turtleneck and my new necklace, the amber and silver looking refined . . . classy . . . against the black top.

Though I arrived fifteen minutes early the first and second parking lots were full and we were directed to overflow parking two lots away. As I got out of my car a young woman and a middle-aged woman were walking up the grade and so I joined them.

Reta had driven down from Sioux St. Marie, a five-hour drive! She ran a shelter up in the Sioux and was looking for new ideas and perhaps solutions to the ever-growing homeless situation. I introduced myself and then the young woman, early twenties, smiling and enthusiastic said, “I’m Justine. I really like your necklace!”

“Thank you,” I answered as we got to the doors of the Dante Club. I held the door for Reta and Justine and we walked into a room that was already almost filled to capacity. I had assumed that Justine and Reta were together, but they and I separated as we went inside, each of us sitting in a different place.

The forum was well organized with guest speakers from social services, the police, food banks, Indwell and other charitable organizations, and a couple of local municipal leaders. The audience listened respectfully, heads nodding in support, and if not in support there were no raised fists or yelling of abuses.

Then came the Q & A. Ninety seconds per person at the microphone and though there were many who spoke, wanting to find solutions, there were some who needed to vent, who wanted the tent city torn down and the men and women taken somewhere else where they would no longer be “visible,” no longer be a nuisance.

“They are peeing and shitting on the ground, even on the sidewalks.” One woman said, her voice raised.

“My son has to walk by them on his way to school. They’re just a bunch of addicts and drunks. They shouldn’t be allowed to be there. Get rid of them!” a man said loudly into the microphone.

And as each person spoke against the tent city and those who lived there, some in the crowd clapped in support.

My chair was two from the aisle where those who went up to the mike to speak stood waiting. When a new person joined the line, I glanced over to see Justine standing quietly, waiting her turn.

“My name is Justine and I live in Rainbow Park,” she said, her voice, gentle and calm.

“I’m one of those people who has peed on the grass. Believe me, I don’t want to. None of us do. But there aren’t any portable toilets. And none of the restaurants, not even Tim Horton’s, will let us use their washrooms. There isn’t any place where I can shower. If there were toilets and showers at the park for us, we wouldn’t be forced to act like animals. I’m not an animal.”

Just as gently and calmly Justine handed the mike to the moderator and walked back across the room. I tried to see where she sat but she had disappeared into the rows of people.

The event ended a few minutes later after thankyou’s were extended. On my way out, I stopped in the foyer to look at headshots of some of the unhoused that were on display, memories of those at The Compass I had come to know.

I was still trying to find Justine as I made my way to the door, thinking that she had probably left after she spoke and so I was startled to see her just outside the door, talking and lighting a cigarette.

She recognized me and smiled and I went up to her, embraced her and thanked her. Reaching to the back of my neck, I unclasped my necklace and holding it out to her I asked, “Is it okay if I give this to you?”

“Yes! It’s beautiful! Yes, thank you!” she said as I put it around her neck. “God bless you.”

“She already has,” I said, and we embraced.

Nine o’clock and it was already dark. As I walked back to my car, I looked up to see a beautiful Van Gogh starry, starry night sky.  An artistic genius, whose severe mental unwellness made him a social outcast and if it weren’t for the sacrificial love of his brother Theo, Vincent would have often been homeless.

Washrooms and showers in Rainbow Park would be a human kindness, but they are not the solution. Neither is giving my necklace to a young, homeless woman. But she told me her name. Justine! And I pray that she felt valued and worthy.

Later, as I prepared for bed, I turned the light on in my bedroom closet to see my Alb and multi-coloured, hand-woven, Nicaraguan preaching stole hanging inside, the attire of my occupation, my vocation.

The Alb is yellowed at the neck and some of the embroidery on the sleeves has worn away, but the fabric of the gown itself has not thinned and still has many years of life left in it.

The stole, its colourful, tightly woven threads, remain strong and unbroken, its patterns of biblical story symbols still distinct and vibrant and beautiful. And I realize, this is who I am. The threads are strong and the fabric is intact. And the necklace . . . the necklace is gone from the hook where it hung in my closet, but it is where it belongs.

Debra P. McGill is a recently retired United Church minister who served both rural and urban churches for twenty-five years, spending nine months of those years in Botswana. While in ministry, Debra served as a part time Chaplain in long term care home in Hespeler and was the volunteer Chaplain at The Compass, which served many unhoused, unemployed, underemployed, newcomers and those with mental health issues in Mississauga.

Debra dabbles in photography and hopes to use her writing to share the many happy surprises, anxious moments and life-shaping learnings with others through story telling.

See upcoming weekly writing classes, one-day workshops, and four-day retreats here

Read more short stories, essays, and reviews by your fellow writers here (and scroll down).

Sunday, November 3, 2024

You're invited to an in-person workshop: “Writing your life and other true stories”

The Niagara on the Lake Writers’ Circle presents…

“Writing your life and other true stories”

Saturday, May 3, 2025
10 a.m. – 2 p.m.
Niagara on the Lake Public Library, 10 Anderson Lane, NOTL, Ontario (Map here.) 

Have you ever considered writing your memoirs or family history? This workshop will introduce you to the tricks and conventions of telling true stories and will show you how to use the techniques of the novel to recount actual events. Whether you want to write for your family or for a wider public, don't miss this workshop.

Workshop leader Brian Henry has been a book editor and creative writing instructor for more than 25 years. He publishes Quick Brown Fox, Canada's most popular blog for writers, taught creative writing at Ryerson University (now Toronto Metropolitan University) and has led workshops everywhere from Boston to Buffalo and from Sarnia to Saint John.  But his proudest boast is that he has helped many of his students get published.  

See reviews of and works inspired by Brian's classes, workshops, and retreats here.

Fee: 

For member or the NOTL Writers’ Circle: $36.28 + hst = $41 paid in advance by mail or Interac

For the general public: $40.71 + 13% hst = $46 paid in advance by mail or Interac

or $44.25 + 13% hst = $50 if you wait to pay at the door (both members and general public)

To reserve a spot now, email: brianhenry@sympatico.ca

See all of Brian’s upcoming weekly writing classes, one-day workshops, and weekend retreats here

Saturday, November 2, 2024

Anitha has a new picture book out: Sari Sisters

Hi, Brian.

I am thrilled to share my picture book, Sari Sisters (Viking Books / Penguin Random House) is now out in the world! It's illustrated by the award-winning, critically acclaimed artist Anoosha Syed. It's about the tight-knit bond between sisters as they navigate adolescent milestones and the beauty of updating traditional customs for a modern audience.

I'm also so happy that ten years after my first book launch, I got to do another one! And I got to share the day with my lovely friend and talented author Anita Yasuda, who also launched her book, Diwali, a Festival of Lights on October 19 at A Different Drummer Books in Burlington.

As always, thank you for your support, Brian.

My best,

Anitha

Anitha Rao-Robinson 

anitharobinson.com

Creator & Host of the Kindness Is Everything podcast

Sari Sisters is available at splendid independent bookstores like A Different Drummer Books in Burlington and also from Chapters/Indigo here.

Note: See all my upcoming weekly writing classes, one-day workshops, and weekend retreats here~Brian

Check out other recent books from your fellow writers here (and scroll down).