Monday, February 27, 2012

In The Snake magazine ~ submissions and The 2012 Equinox Prize for Shorter Fiction

In The Snake MagazineP.O. Box 1523
Folsom, CA 95763-1523
http://www.inthesnake.com/

In The Snake is now accepting submissions for the 2012 Equinox Prize. This is a Shorter fiction contest: Submissions may be up to 2500 words. Multiple submissions are accepted: you may submit as many stories as you like.

There is a $9 reader's fee per entry.

First Place is $400 and publication in In The Snake.
Second Place earns $120 and possible publication.
Third Place earns $80 and possible publication.
In addition, 10-20 finalists will receive certificates honorable mention.


Deadline: April 1, 2012. Full contest rules and upcoming contests here.

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
More about the Contest Calendar here.

Marc & Morgane McAllister, editors of In The Snake
Regular submissions:
In the Snake also accepts submissions for its monthly magazine: "We accept all genres; however we do prefer general literary fiction. Appropriate works include stories that focus on the evolution of a character through new encounters and interpersonal relationships.

"We also have a special interest in Science/Speculative fiction, as well as works of magic realism and surrealism.

"Above all else, we are looking for stories that have compelling plots. Such stories grab a reader’s attention and connect to the reader through the events of the plot. Character development through conflict, climax, and resolution is essential.  See more about our preferences here.

"Due to time constraints (and our day jobs), we can only accept one submission at a time per author. Please wait for us to respond to your submission before submitting again. Please limit your stories to 7,500 words.

"Payment is $50 upon acceptance for one-time World Wide Web publication rights. All other rights are retained by the author."

Full submission guidelines and on-line submission form here.

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.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Tanaz Bhathena's shoes & essay in the Bata Shoe Museum

Tanaz reading at CJ's
Some of you will have had the pleasure of being in a class with Tanaz Bhathena. Others may have heard her read her work at CJ's Cafe. Well, now Tanaz is in a museum. Or at least her shoes are. They're part of an exhibit at the Bata Shoe Museum of twelve pairs of shoes and twelve personal essays by twelve women writers, all immigrants to Canada.
Read more about The Shoe Project here. Or better yet, go and see the exhibit. I recently toured the museum with my nine-year-old and my thirteen-year-old, and we all found plenty to interest us!

Here's the start of Tanaz's essay, "The Wind Beneath My Feet" ...
My mother always wanted me to be a lady. To defy her, after moving to Canada from Saudi Arabia, I bought shoes that were flat, round-toed and black – not the least bit ladylike. I wore these shoes to my high school award ceremony, my job interview, to driving lessons, to convocation.
As the years passed, I bought new shoes, including strappy, dainty, high-heels. But my unladylike black boots are the ones I return to when my feet are sore. They are the shoes that accompanied me on my journey to becoming Canadian – a woman free to fly as she wished ... more

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, February 25, 2012

Quick Brown Fox hits new heights, now popular enough to attract scam artists


The lovely chart above shows the number of visits to Quick Brown Fox each month since July 2009 when I started the blog through to the end of January 2012. I trust you’ll notice the pleasing upward climb, from just 985 visits in July 2009 to 15,457 last month.

That’s 500 visits a day in January, and just as many people have been visiting Quick Brown Fox this month. So apparently a lot of people like the blog. Which is great!

Also, Google recently upped Quick Brown Fox’s PageRank from a 4 to a 5. Apparently, this is a biggie, like the difference between an earthquake that registers 5 on the Richter Scale and one that registers a 6. It’s not just one notch up, but a geometric leap – the difference between a few old barns falling down and a city being flattened. 
Pilgrimage routes, courtesy of the Confraternity of St. James

Google now believes that Quick Brown Fox is as important a website as the Confraternity of St. James,  the Fur Institute of Canada, and even the Elib Shopping Directory!

You haven’t heard of these sites? Me neither,  not until I started researching this piece.

In practical terms, a higher PageRank means that people can now find Quick Brown Fox more easily. So, for example, if you Google “creative writing courses Mississauga,” you’ll see that Quick Brown Fox still gets beat out by the U of T and Ryerson, but QBF now takes the number 3 slot.
(And when people see how expensive courses are at the U of T and Ryerson, they’ll quickly click on Quick Brown Fox instead.)

I suspect this new PageRank partly accounts for the recent surge in visits to QBF. Of course, the general trend has been up and people are busy with other things in December, but I had 4,000 more visitors in January than in December, an increase of 38%! So thank you, Google.

You wonder how Google determines your website’s ranking? Well, the details are a trade secret, and even if they weren’t, you’d need a degree in advanced mathematics to understand them. But the basics are simple: the more sites link to you (and the more important those sites), the higher your site ranks.

Something over 100 other bloggers and web masters have linked their sites to Quick Brown Fox. More importantly, some of those sites are themselves very prominent. This is key, because even if a thousand sites with a PageRank of 1 linked to Quick Brown Fox, they wouldn’t weigh as much as a single blog or website with a PageRank of 5.
You can click on this badge all you
want - the link's been removed. I
won't get any votes, and you won't
get a sales pitch from
Accelerated Degrees Program.

Yesterday, seeming to top off Quick Brown Fox’s month of glory, I got an email from Accelerated Degree Programs, telling me that one of my posts, What have you been reading?”  has been nominated for a Fascination Award in the “Most Fascinating Librarian blog” category. 

I didn't even know I was a librarian! And not only did they offer me a shiny “Vote for me” badge to stick on Quick Brown Fox, but they want to give me a $25 gift certificate for a restaurant, too.

“Whoa!” I said. “What restaurant?”

I’m still waiting for a reply. But even if it’s Tim Horton’s (which I visit many times a week), I’m not accepting the nomination. It turns out Accelerated Degree Programs is promiscuous with its favours. They use blogs like mine to lure in potential customers. You click on the Vote for Me badge and it takes you straight to their sales pitch. It’s a variation on the “Top 100 blogs” con, which Dy/dan lays out here.

Alas, I guess attracting the interest of scam artists is a price you pay for increased prominence on the web.
- Brian

Check out my 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, February 24, 2012

Penumbra Press, the Northern Publisher

Facing Life, the first of two memoirs
Nancy Brown published with Penumbra.
For more on her 2nd memoir,
Transcending the Legacy, see here.
Penumbra Press
PO Box 20011
Newcastle, Ontario
Canada, L1B 1M3
http://www.penumbrapress.ca/

Penumbra Press bills itself as the northern publisher. It specializes in Canadian art, architecture, and design; books about the North; First Nations myths and legends; Native, Aboriginal, Metis, and Inuit culture. Penumbra also publishes memoir, history, books for children and young adults, poetry, etc.

However, Penumbra is a small press. In 2009, they had a good year and published ten books; in 2011, though, they only put out two books and one music CD. They suggest you look at the books they publish before submitting and be warned that they may take a long time to get back to you.

For people writing memoir, family history, and so forth, Brian Henry will lead "Writing your life & other true stories," Saturday, March 24, in Barrie. Details here.

Also, Brian will lead "How to Get Published" workshops on Saturday, May 21, 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, February 23, 2012

Jen Linnan has opened her own agency, Linnan Literary Management

Jen's Twitter image. I can't find
a photo of her.
Linnan Literary Management is a boutique agency specializing in graphic works and illustration, in addition to select prose works in adult, YA, and middle-grade fiction and nonfiction. Prior to launching her own agency, Jen worked at Sanford J. Greenburger Associates, handling international rights for several major agency clients.

No website yet, but see Jen Linnan's page at Publishers Marketplace here.

"I'm a passionate reader of many things: cereal boxes, Facebook status updates, knitting patterns, dialogue trees in videogames, Wikipedia... oh, and books. Possibly yours!" says Jen.
"I'm actively seeking clients in the genres below. More specifically, I love a story that demands my attention, pulling me out of my reality and into another, forcing me to put down my computer, silence my phone, and fully immerse myself in its pages. Whether it's powered by inventive world-building or meticulous journalism, set in Oz, Dublin, or the apartment next door, composed of a few paragraphs or thousands - those things are up to you ... and if you have copy that blows "Snap, Crackle, Pop!" out of the water, let's talk."
Jen is interested in:
Graphic fiction/nonfiction
Illustration
Women's fiction
Historical fiction
Mystery
Thrillers
Narrative nonfiction
Memoir
Young adult
Middle grade
Pop culture
Food
Humor

Submsions:
Query by e-mail only at jen@linnanliterary.com

Please include:
- In the body of your e-mail: a query letter, synopsis, and short bio.
- Attached as a Word Document: the first three chapters (or about 50 pages) of your work, and/or a proposal.

For graphic works, please link to your portfolio site, or include a download link (YouSendIt, Dropbox, etc).

Please do keep me informed via e-mail should you receive interest or an offer of representation from another agent; I appreciate the courtesy and the chance to extend an offer of my own before you decide!

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 21, 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 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.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

"The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society" by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows, reviewed by Maureen Kozak

Dial Press Trade Paperbacks, New York 2009, 304 pages, $12.92 from Indigo.ca 

I loved this book and highly recommend it, though I would caution that it is hard to put down and will likely cause sleep deprivation. The book is written as a series of letters, notes and telegrams to and from the various characters in the story, and through their observations the reader is treated to a summary of life in the Channel Islands at the time of their occupation during World War II.

The central character in the story is Juliet a journalist in search of an idea for her next book. We are privy to her thoughts and experiences from the war via her letters to her publisher, Sidney, and to her best friend, Sophie.

The inciting incident of the book begins with a letter from Dawsey Adams, a gentleman who lives on the island of Guernsey, who found her name inside a secondhand book. Through the exchange of their letters, their questions and answers move the reader into an account of island life during the occupation. Both Juliet and the reader build up a picture of Elizabeth, an English woman stranded on the island at the outbreak of war.

Other islanders send letters to Juliet in which they relate anecdotes of their own dealings with Elisabeth and the German occupiers. Negative and vitriolic comments about Elisabeth from one islander are balanced by more positive or truthful accounts from other people. In this way we build up a picture of her character and develop an understanding of her contribution to the survival of the island community during the war.

Juliet realizes she has found a story that might make an interesting new book. She gains the trust of the islanders by way of her letters and by her personal visit and they open up to her. We, in turn, become privy to humorous and horrific incidents that were experienced by both sides during the war. Through acts of courage and compassion by both islanders and the Germans, we are able to see that there are no heroes and villains in war, only people trying to survive and retain their humanity.

The horrors of war and occupation can scar people but they can’t change who they are deep down. When we root for Elisabeth with her courage, intelligence, compassion and humanity, we are really rooting for ourselves and our hope that we’d conduct ourselves well in similar circumstances.


Maureen Kozak is an aspiring writer who lives in Oakville. She’s been developing her skills at Brian’ss Monday creative writing class. She may sometimes be found wandering the aisles of Fortino’s supermarket reading bean cans for literary content and muttering “thank god it’s Monday.”

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.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Overnight Buses Travel Magazine ~ Call for submissions

Dear Brian,
I'm writing to announce the launch of our new magazine, Overnight Buses Travel Magazine. Of particular interest to the readers of Quick Brown Fox is our upcoming second issue. Beginning in March, we will be accepting submissions from authors for our next set of stories. We hope some of your readers enjoy writing travel writing, because we love reading it. So if you know any great travel writers, please tell them about us. And yes, we do pay for all our articles. You've got pictures as well? Move to the front of the line.

Full guidelines here.

If you'd like to check us out yourself first, please download our magazine from our App Store. You can also find out more information about us by visiting our website at http://www.overnightbuses.com

How are we different than other travel magazines? For starters, we publish full-length travel essays. No short blurbs or mindless filler, just great writing. Our first issue features work by award-winning writers Michael Shapiro, Marcia DeSanctis and best-selling author Ayun Halliday. You can find it on the App Store here.
Sincerely,
Thomas Tegart
tom@overnightbuses.com
www.overnightbuses.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.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Ten Stories High Short Story Competition deadline March 31 & Write Now @ King contest

"Do you have the write stuff ?"
The Canadian Authors Association, Niagara Branch, is holding its annual "Ten Stories High" short story competition - open to all Ontario residents. Stories can be of any genre but must be previously unpublished and between 1,000 and 3,000 words. (No personal essays, memoirs, children's literature or non-fiction please.)

For first Canadian rights, the top ten finalists will have their stories published in an anthology in the fall. The award for first place is $300; second, $200; and third, $100. Winning entries will also receive story evaluations.

Entry fee: $15 per story. Deadline: March 31. Entry information and full contest rules here.


Hi Brian,
There’s not much time left before the February 29th deadline of our contest for residents of York Region sponsored by the Write Now@King writing group, but we’d like to give the contest one last push. It features cash prizes and publication in King Mosaic.
I am sorry about the short, short notice. Luckily there’s still time for local writers to deliver a piece in hard copy to the King City Library or submit a piece by e-mail to doritapeer@bell.net
Thanks for helping to spread the word,
Cynthia St-Pierre,
Newmarket
vegetariandetective.blogspot.com   
Member, Crime Writers of Canada

"So you think you can write..." contest rules:
1. Writers must be residents of York Region. Two categories of authors: Open & High School Students.
2. Works of poetry, prose (fiction or non-fiction) to a maximum length of 1500 words, must be original, on any topic, previously unpublished, non-winners in any contest, typewritten in Times New Roman and double-spaced.

3. Submissions may be made electronically as an email attachment to doritapeer@bell.net or delivered in hard copy to the King City Library, 1970 King Road, King City, addressed to “So you think you can write…” by February 29, 2012.

4. All judging is blind. All pages of the actual work must bear the title of the work and page number only. Please include a separate cover page with your name, address, telephone and/or email contact information, and your school’s name, if applicable.

5. Cash prizes will be awarded on March 22, 2012 at the King City Public Library when the winners will present their works in a public reading.

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  
More about the Contest Calendar here.

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.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

"Falling In," a hiking story by Bert Jenkins


Southern Ontario hikers just love the Adirondacks – big peaks, long days, substantial elevation gain, good views, and 46 peaks over 4000 ft, many remote and some trail-less. After a few visits you find yourself drawn into a select group of obsessive-compulsive conversationally-limited asocial list-makers whose objective is to bag ‘em all. I’ve done about twenty, so there’s still a ways to go before I can call myself a 46-er. Today’s objective was Skylight, 4926 ft.

Sound simple? Not quite. From the north, Skylight hides behind a tangle of other hills and high passes. The logical approach involves substantial gain and loss of elevation just to get to its foot. And the logical return passes over Marcy, at 5344 ft the highest peak in the Adirondacks.

It was a long day and I reckoned 12 hours would be fast. A five-o’clock start would be a good start. But getting up at five is an act of faith: it’s still dark, you can’t see the hill tops from the campsite, and even if the sky’s clear there’s no guarantee the tops are. At the trail-head only one thing was clear: they weren’t. Not only that, but it looked like rain.

But your rough, tough southern Ontario hiker is not put off by the prospect of a few showers, particularly if they’ve just got up at five in the morning – they are going to have a good day, choose what.

The cloud pall was unbroken, solid and grey on the stony upslope of the first pass. Steeply down the other side, a long way down, and a little later the trail levels out to cross a sizeable, boggy wetland. About 4 hours to here; not too bad. Might even beat 12 hours for the day…

The trail over the wetland followed boardwalks pinned tenuously over sluggish streams, deep stagnant water holes and tough grass. At the other side of the marsh could be seen the upslope to the trail junction and the first big decision point – is there enough time or not? If so, turn left for Skylight; if not, turn right, downhill, and chicken out.

Now the trail at this point is not a major Park trail and only a few idiots come this way. It would be quite impassable without the boardwalks. It was also quite evidently a few years since these boardwalks had received significant State Park maintenance. They sloped, some planks were missing, some rattled and some were rotten. But if the entire boardwalk looked a little lacking in love, this section, just coming up, seemed particularly dejected.

So what? I’m going like a steam hammer, the weather has improved and it’s without doubt in 10 minutes I’ll be at the trail junction with a left turn uphill and the day done like dinner. So, these planks laid somewhat randomly over that particularly black and anthropophagic puddle: if I step this way on the first of them which slopes down, I can fluidly follow it left foot onto the second which slopes right, and then lightly spring right foot onto the third which just slopes, and land on the gravelly beach and tufty grass beyond. So come on, steam hammer, show us what you’re made of. One step, two steps…

The third plank is not so much loose as not even attached. So for a precious moment there you are, by any mathematical definition unstable, each millisecond subtending a decreasing angle to the horizontal, and all the while articulating, reproachfully, That was a silly thing to do…

So: you are going to fall in. That puddle down there, it’s really only mud, right? OK, wet mud. Your bum would land in it with a glutinous plop and with suitable disposition of well-organized if flailing limbs you would with one fluid if somewhat contaminated motion spring to your feet, muddy but unbowed, and say, Oh Bother! But wait: it isn’t mud, it’s water, water a little deeper than any mere puddle. My bottom hasn’t yet met its bottom; still going; hey, how deep is this? Double-red alert, emergency closure facial orifices, don’t breathe in…

Then at some point action met corresponding reaction, and the great whale breached in a tarnished spray of marsh water and beached on the far side, on land up to that moment dry but getting wetter by each drippy moment.

Look around. Mercifully, no-one to witness the indignity. Shake off drops like a wet doggy. Take pack off. Contents, wet. Pour water out of pack. Shiver. Acknowledge that shivering is good for you. Get out sodden waterproofs, put on jacket. Take off boots, wring out socks, drain boots, replace, socks first. Repack gear.

Stand up straight, grimace and squelch noisily down the trail, like some exhibit from a diorama on evolution, tentatively trying these new things called legs and thinking longingly of the old days when you moved effortlessly and fluidly through cool friendly water on fins and breathed through gills.

Turn right at the junction and chicken out with nary a moment’s hesitation, ignoring the now quite evidently clear mountain tops. Meet all kinds of interesting and more significantly, dry people, and hammer downhill past chasms, ravines and waterfalls; all that water, remember how wet it is? Gain the relative shelter of the ponds at the top of Avalanche Pass and stop for lunch, still wet, but steaming nicely in the humid Adirondack August. Then up over Avalanche Pass and a long hike on good trails back to the car.

A nine-hour round trip. I still don’t know if I can do Skylight in 12, it isn’t as high on my list as it used to be. Early next morning rain like a reverse alarm clock drummed solidly on the tent and it rained for hours, a good day to spend under the dining shelter, dry clothes, a good book and a Guinness or two at lunchtime.


Bert Jenkins is a retired chemical engineer. In the course of 44 years in the chemical process industry Bert has had ample opportunity to practise creative writing. His most widely read works to date have had titles like Phosphoric Acid Purification Plant: Operating Instructions.

Now with Brian’s help he is attempting to apply these skills to fiction where the facts may be just as much a figment of the imagination, but so too are the dramatis personae. He has had a story in his brain for the last 30 years and hopes some time in the next 40 to get it down on paper. It has absolutely nothing to do with the chemical process industry. Bert’s other passion is the outdoors.

On December 8, Bert gave a reading of "Falling In" at CJ's Cafe.

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, February 17, 2012

Writing Great Characters workshop, Guelph, Saturday, June 23

"Scattered Light," Jean Rae Baxter's
most recent short story collection
“You can write great characters”
~ An editor & an author share all ~
Saturday, June 23, 2012
10 a.m. - 4 p.m.
Harcourt United Church, 87 Dean Ave, Guelph (Map here.)

Whatever you're writing, fiction or nonfiction, readers will care about your story only if they care about your people. In this workshop, you'll learn techniques for creating fictional characters and depicting real people. You’ll learn how to breathe life into the page so that your characters start telling you how the story should go.

Workshop leader Brian Henry has been a book editor and creative writing instructor for more than 25 years. But his proudest boast is that he's helped many of his students get published, including guest speaker Jean Rae Baxter…

Jean Rae Baxter has written six books. She's published two short story collections: A Twist of Malice and Scattered Light (Seraphim Press), three young adult historical novels, The Way Lies North, Broken Trail, and Freedom Bound (Ronsdale Press), and a literary murder mystery, Looking for Cardenio (Seraphim). Jean's books and short stories have won her many awards and critical recognition.

Fee: $38.94 + hst = $44 paid in advance
or $42.48 + hst = $48 if you wait to pay at the door
To register, email brianhenry@sympatico.ca  

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.

Chicken Soup is always looking for stories - and they pay, too!

New Chicken Soup for the Soul books are always in development and the publishers are always looking for new stories and poems. Current projects are listed below.

"We prefer that you submit your stories only once, but if you believe your story fits in more than one book topic, please indicate which other topics you have submitted it for in the Comments line on the submission form.

New Friends
Throughout our lives we meet new people and social circles change. Sometimes we have to say goodbye to friends and make new connections. We are looking for stories about men and women making new friends. Whether it was a move, a divorce, or a friendship that failed, share your stories about finding new friends. What led you to form new relationships? How did you go about it? This book will encourage and support other adults who are looking to expand their circle of friends. Funny stories are great too. We are not looking for teen or preteen stories for this book, just stories from people over 18.
The deadline date for story and poem submissions is March 31, 2012.

The Power of Positive
Everyone knows about the power of positive thinking. After the success of our book, Chicken Soup for the Soul: Think Positive, we are ready to make another book full of stories about how you changed your life, solved a problem, or overcame a challenge through a positive attitude, counting your blessings, or an epiphany of some kind. Tell us your success story about using the power of positive!
The deadline date for story and poem submissions is April 30, 2012

Parenthood
They always say it's the best job and the worst job. But basically it's the best! We are looking for your stories about parenting - the hard work, the joy, the unconditional love, the funny times and the occasional sad ones too. Whether you're a new parent of one or an "experienced" parent of several, by birth, by marriage, by adoption, or by fostering, tell us your stories about parenthood. Funny stories, stories that will make us tear up, stories with nuggets of great advice - all your anecdotes are welcome.
The deadline date for story and poem submissions is June 30, 2012.

Independent Woman
Whether you are single or married, widowed, or divorced, you are in charge of your life and the lives of many other people. Tell us your story about running your independent life, achieving independence, and being a complete person. We are referring to all kinds of independence, not just financial or emotional. Share your story of empowerment and independence to help women of all ages feel stronger, more capable, and more confident.
The deadline date for story and poem submissions is July 31, 2012

Full guidelines, and link for submitting stories here. Also, if you have a great story or poem you want to submit but we are not collecting for that topic at this time, save it and check back later.

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.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

How to Get Published workshop in Hamilton with literary agent Carly Watters

An editor & an agent tell all
Saturday, June 16, 2012
10 a.m. – 4 p.m.
Volunteer Hamilton, 267 King St. E, Hamilton, Ont. (Map here.)

If you've ever dreamed of becoming a published author, this workshop is for you. We’ll cover everything from getting started to getting an agent, from getting your short pieces published to finding a book publisher, from writing a query letter to writing what the publishers want. Bring your questions. Come and get ready to be published!

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.

Guest speaker Carly Watters is an Associate Agent at the P.S. Literary Agency.  P.S. was established by Curtis Russell in 2005. It's located in Oakville and represents commercial fiction and nonfiction. It is also seeking literary fiction and crossover Young Adult fiction. P.S. seeks to work with clients who are professional and committed to their goals. In addition to contract negotiations, editorial and marketing guidance, the agency will pursue foreign, audio, digital, TV/film and serial rights for its clients.

Carly represents a diverse list of fiction, nonfiction and children's authors including Mary Akers, Ian T Healy, Jay Onrait, and Colin Mochrie. Never without a book on hand, she reads across categories which is reflected in the genres she represents, including literary and commercial fiction, upmarket nonfiction, YA and picture books.

Carly did her MA in Publishing Studies at City University London in the UK where she worked in the publishing industry at the Darley Anderson Literary, TV and Film Agency, and Bloomsbury PLC before returning to Canada in 2010 to join the P.S Literary Agency. She attends Book Expo America in New York, the London Book Fair, and the International Festival of Authors in Toronto.

For more about P.S. Literary Agency, see here.

Fee: $38.94 + 13% hst = $44 paid in advance
or $42.48 + 13% hst = $48 if you wait to pay at the door.
To reserve your spot, email brianhenry@sympatico.ca  

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.

Intensive Creative Writing course, Oakville, Fri afternoons, Apr 20 – June 15

Eight weeks of creative growth
Friday afternoons, 12:30 – 2:45 p.m.
First set of readings distributed April 13.
Classes run April 20 to June 15, 2012.
St Cuthbert's Anglican Church, 1541 Oakhill Drive, Oakville (Map here.)

This course is for people who are working on their own writing. The format is similar to the "Intermediate" and "Extreme" courses: Over the eight classes, you’ll be asked to bring in four 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. You bring whatever you want to work on.

Besides critiquing pieces, the instructor will give short lectures at the start of each class, addressing the needs of the group.

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 teacher for more than 25 years. He teaches at Ryerson University and has led writing workshops everywhere from Boston to Buffalo and from Sarnia to Charlottetown. But his proudest boast is that he's helped many of his students get published.

Fee: $132.74 plus 13% hst = $150
Advance registration only. These courses fill up, so enroll early to avoid disappointment.
To reserve a spot now, email: brianhenry@sympatico.ca  

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.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Love Letters & Writer to Writer

Hi, Brian.
I hope things are going well in your writing world. I just wanted to share some exciting news with you.
I'm so thrilled to let you know that my young adult historical novel will be published by Dancing Cat (an imprint of Cormorant Books) in Fall 2012. The story is about a teenage girl caught between the Soviet and Nazi armies in Estonia in 1941. The novel evolved from a story that I wrote in one of your creative writing classes a few years ago. Those classes were a great support and learning experience for me. Thanks so much.
Best regards,
Urve Tamberg
www.utamberg.com
For information about submitting to Dancing Cat Books, see here. For information about upcoming weekly writing classes, see here.


Nancy Kay Clark,
publisher CommuterLit.com
Brian, and all my amazing fellow writers!
You can read my first published story, “Plenty of Fish” on CommuterLit here.
Brian, thanks for all your suggestions, I made a nice plug for your courses in my bio. Hope there is a spot for me in the spring course!
Hugs,
Joanne McAuley
For information on submitting to CommuterLit, see here.

Hi, Brian;
I’ve just finished writing a Young Adult novel and I wanted to thank you for helping me get to this point. The novel took root during on of your workshops in June 2010. It was part of a special option to bring 2 pages of writing for you to review and edit. I banged out a couple of pages based on a vague concept I had. Your positive reaction inspired me to turn the concept into a completed manuscript.

When I see how far I’ve come, from my first attempts at writing to now, I’m struck by how much I’ve matured as a writer. I credit your various workshops and classes for this growth. Now begins the daunting task of querying literary agents. Thank goodness I took your December 3rd workshop on how to get published.

Thank you again for helping me turn a fuzzy idea into The Other Side of Normal.
Marilyn Hunter

The next How to Get Published workshops will be May 12 in Newmarket (details here) and June 9 in Brampton (details here). I'll have a literary agent as a guest at both.


Hi, Brian.
I wanted to let you know that my short story "London's Fog" was published in the One Thousand Trees online magazine. The story is in the February 2012 issue. It's the first short story I've ever had published and I'm quite excited.
Cheers,
Kara Bartley
You can read Kara's story here. For information about submitting to One Thousand Trees, see here.

Dear Brian,
I’d like to let you know that I sent a short story, "My Purse" to Transition Magazine and it has been published in the fall issue. Thank you for Quick Brown Fox. I’m happy to receive it.
Jenny Vasilescu
Kitchener
To read Jenny's story, see here. For information about submitting to Transition, see here.


Writer to Writer

Dundas Town Hall
 The Scribblers Writing Group invites your to share your talent with us. All forms of writing are welcomed, and no criticism takes place. We are warm-hearted folk who enjoy reading excerpts from our works aloud, and we encourage members to express themselves via short stories, memoirs, essays, poetry, etc.

If you are looking for a sociable hobby or enjoy meeting friendly local people to share experiences and laughter, you cannot do better than to join the Scribblers. No restrictions as to age, sex, nationality, or entities from other planets. Come, let us give you a hearty welcome! No fees required.

Meetings take place on alternate Thursdays at 1 p.m.
in Dundas Town Hall, Main Street, Dundas, Ontario
Next meeting: Thursday, February 23
For detailed information, please contact Yvonne Garry at: ygarry@cogeco.ca  

Hi, Brian.
I wanted to let you know that I have opened a new art studio in downtown Burlington at 2054 James Street. Classes are starting with a kids' March Break Camp from March 12th -16th and Spring Classes for kids, teens and adults are to follow. Looking forward to creating and showcasing lots of artwork!
The Studio is called The Art of Learning and you can check out the website here.
Talk to you soon,
Giulia Morosin

Hello, Brian.
I have written a series of five books directed towards children ages 0-5 years old, each about 20 pages (heavy on illustrations and little words). The illustrations are almost complete. I am looking for an editor and book manager to help me finish the book and self-publish. I have no idea how much this would cost to pay someone, nor do I know of anyone. If anyone can help me out, please get in touch.
Thank you,
Kristine Laing
ktolaing@gmail.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.

Monday, February 13, 2012

Bundoran Press seeks stories for science fiction anthology and book-length manuscripts

Stealing Home by Hayden Trenholm,
published by Bundoran Press
Bundoran Press Publishing House
4378 1st Ave
Prince George, BC Canada
V2M 1C9
http://store.bundoranpress.com/

Bundoran Press is pleased to announce that their new science fiction anthology: Blood and Water is now open for submissions.

Conflicts over oil and diamonds marked the latter half of the twentieth century but the fights of the next century will be more visceral. You can live without oil or diamonds but try surviving without fresh water, safe food or clean air. Try surviving while deserts form in Africa and the heartland of America; while oceans claim back coastal cities and Pacific islands.

Blood and Water will gather the stories of the new resource wars that will mark the next fifty years – stories of conflict and cooperation, of hope and despair – all told from a uniquely Canadian perspective. Conflicts with America over Canada’s resources, Canadian solutions to global problems or personal narratives of coping with change and conflict could all inspire your stories. Or you could surprise us!

Hopeful stories will be as welcome as dystopias (perhaps more so). Beyond that, we are looking for strongly plotted, character-driven stories where science – physical, biological and social – plays a critical role.

Blood and Water is only open to submissions from Canadians, landed immigrants living in Canada, long time residents of Canada, and Canadian expatriates living abroad.

Submissions should be near future science fiction although urban or non-traditional fantasy (no high or mythic fantasy), cross-genre, slipstream or space opera may be considered if they make a strong contribution to the theme.

Short fiction of up to 8,000 words will be considered. No poetry and, generally, no stories under 1,000 words.

Deadline: Sunday, March 4th, 2012 (midnight Pacific Time). Decisions will be made as quickly as possible. Please do not query until after April 30th.

E-mail submissions to hayden@bundoranpress.com 
Send the entire story with your submission; do not query before submitting. In the subject line, use “Blood and Water:” followed by the title of your story. Stories can be sent as .docx, .doc or .rtf files attached to the e-mail. The body of the e-mail should include your contact info, a brief bio with your three most significant or recent publications. Don’t describe your story – the work speaks for itself. Do indicate how you meet the “Canadian” requirement noted above.

Payment: $50 for original stories under 3,500 words to a maximum of $100 for longer works. Stories over 8000 words will not be considered. Reprints will be paid at flat rate of $50. Authors will receive one free copy of the first edition, and additional copies at a 50% discount.

Full submission guidelines here. Bundoran Press is also accepting book length submissions and they’re currently looking for fantasy novels, any subgenre, but no young adult stories – they’ve had too many of those lately. Submission guidelines here.

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.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

"Eating Animals" by Jonathan Safran Foer, reviewed by Sandra Lucas

Little, Brown And Company, September 1, 2010, Trade Paperback, $12.91, Kobo $9.99

Now that the film version has been nominated for an Oscar, Jonathan Safran Foer’s novel Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is bound to get lots of attention. But I find his non-fiction book Eating Animals more compelling.

In his introduction, Foer recounts his grandmother’s experience during the last days of World War II when many were dying of starvation. A Russian farmer offered his grandmother a piece of meat.

“He saved your life,” Foer says.

“I didn’t eat it.”

“You didn’t eat it?”

“It was pork. I wouldn’t eat pork.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“What, because it wasn’t kosher?”

“Of course.”

“But not even to save your life?”

“If nothing matters, there’s nothing to save.”

Her response sets the tone for the book and the examination of the issue of what we choose to eat and more importantly what we choose not to eat, based on principle – a personal matter for Foer who was expecting the birth of his first child while writing this book and was trying to decide whether he would feed animals to his child.

It is with this in mind that Foer leads the reader to consider their own choices while he provides an education about the production of animals for consumption.

He delves into the farming of fish, the storing of poultry, the effects of these on the environment, and the argument for vegetarianism versus omnivorism. He approaches each of these topics as a reporter would, sometimes as a Gonzo reporter would – infiltrating a pig farm in the dead of night on a fact finding mission.

But he remains open to the possibility that animals may be processed in such a way that it is sustainable for the planet and acceptable to his own conscience. He travels the country, speaking to experts and visiting abattoirs and aquaculture fisheries to best examine and describe the meat and fish production processes.

Foer writes that he has dabbled with vegetarianism for years, always allowing his appetites to lead him back to eating animals. The best part of this book is his honesty about the fact that animals, when well prepared, taste good. He also cites the “forgetting” that we do in order to enjoy our food and disregard the sacrifice and the ugly truths of animal slaughter.

Not all vegetarians and vegans love the food they eat and hate the taste of meat. Indeed, vegetarians are often asked, if meat is so awful why do vegetarians eat food that is made to look and taste like meat?

The honest vegetarian may tell you, as this one will, that one’s craving for meat does not always dissipate. We can’t promise that we won’t crave meat or fish ever again. We won’t deny that it tastes good. We choose not to eat it despite our enduring cravings for it.

Foer allows for this in his chapter Words/Meaning. People may consider a vegetarian a sentimentalist for his choices, for his sympathy for the cruelty against animals and choice to not consume them.

But who is the sentimentalist in this scenario? When a meat-eater and a vegetarian go to a restaurant, both may be craving a hamburger. The vegetarian would like a burger but chooses not to have one, understanding the effects his choice has on animals, himself, and the environment. The meat-eater craves a burger, is a slave to his craving and has one despite any other considerations.

Anyone considering vegetarianism will find Eating Animals helpful. But it is so much more. It is a statement about our humanity or lack thereof when it comes to our treatment of fellow beings and our planet.

It is a case study in consumerism and capitalism. It is a window into the industry of animal slaughter – a window rarely open to the general public. It is one person’s personal journey that is reflective of our own in many ways.

Foer aims to understand the consequences of his choices and in doing so uncovers all aspects of the arguments for and against eating animals. He leaves it to the reader to use the knowledge gained to form their own opinion about factory farming, animal welfare, and environmental efficacy. In the end, whether Foer chooses to feed his child animals is something for you to discover when you read this important book.

Sandra Lucas was shy about sharing her writing until she participated in Brian Henry’s Exploring Creative Writing course. She enjoys writing fiction and non-fiction. Sandra has a background in landscape design and horticulture and is currently studying holistic nutrition. Through her work and her writing, she aims to cultivate interest in others in the areas of organic gardening and whole food, plant based cooking. Visit her blog here.  

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.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

“Blue Moon Rising,” a short story by Cathy Hendrix

“Got you now!” a voice hissed in Rory’s ear. “You’re already dead.”

Rory’s eyes bugged out with the force of the arm locked around his neck. His head was wrenched back, cutting off his air and the cold prick of steel touched his throat.

“By the gods, Corin! You’re going to make the poor boy piss himself!” chuckled Jonan softly.

With a sudden jerk, Rory found himself free. But just for a moment. A hand snatched his shoulder-length hair at the back of his neck. He felt a sudden breeze as steel sliced through his hair like it was lamb’s wool.

“And now I’ve got your queue!”

Rory stumbled forward, feeling at the back of his neck where a sudden breath of cool air brought goosebumps to his skin.

“Corin, he’s not a Penkori savage!” continued the young knight, cousin to Prince Corin. “He doesn’t have a flaming queue. Now your servant boy looks a right fool with a chunk of his hair missing.”

Rory rubbed his neck. “Wha’ yer do that for?” He mumbled sullenly.

The young prince shoved him lightly and grinned. Even the semi-darkness did not diminish Prince Corin’s fair-haired good looks and charming smile. “Cease moping, Rory! You’re going on an adventure, just as I promised. Did you bring the supplies?”

“Yes, sire.” His master was right. This was going to be a night to remember. With a flutter of anticipation in his chest, Rory turned and picked up the dark lump at his feet that was the satchel of food. As he straightened, he glanced up at the night sky where a thousand stars stood out, knife sharp. The moon! How could he have forgotten? “Sire, are you sure it be a good idea to go tonight?”

“Going coward on us, boy?” Jonan was a shadow, detaching itself from deeper shadows as he stepped closer.

“I just mean, well, we ain’t s’posed to leave the castle grounds, let alone go beyond the wall. It be right dangerous out there. It be the – the Wilds!” He swallowed and his words dropped to a whisper. “And the blue moon’s rising tonight. It ain’t done that in a hundred years!”

A soft laugh sputtered out of Corin’s lips. “The blue moon!” he scoffed. “’Tis a natural occurrence. You don’t believe that superstitious Penkori hogshite, do you? Evil will rise from the earth to strike the living dead at the rising of the blue moon. Ooooh ooooh!”

Rory stepped back as the prince waggled his fingers in his face. “Th-they say it be true!”

“Who says that?” Corin’s voice hardened. “My father has forbidden such talk.”

“J-just people.”

“You mean the servants and townsfolk.” Corin’s stance relaxed. “A superstitious lot. Don’t you want to be one of my squires, Rory? A squire is above common servant-talk. I thought you were excited about tonight. I brought you a dagger.”

Rory`s eyes lit up as Corin produced the weapon, its blade gleaming softly in the starlight. Rory straightened his shoulders as he took the knife. “Oh, I am, sire. Thank you, sire.” Perhaps the prince was right. He was sixteen now, just like the prince and his cousin. Such foolishness was for children and those too ignorant to know better. Like the Penkori.

When the People of the Wilds, or the Penkori, as they called themselves, had first appeared in the hills on the opposite side of the river six months ago, they had sent emissaries to speak with the company of soldiers stationed at the border castle in Alanar. The Penkori leaders had pleaded with the commander to let their people come through the wall that, for long leagues, protected Alanar from the Wilds and soon, would protect it from far worse. For when the blue moon rose and began its hundred year reign, evil would walk the Wilds. Or so they claimed. But the commander had refused and sent a messenger to the king. When the king had arrived, he too had refused these People of the Wilds entry into their land, not trusting the horde of savages.

The Penkori had spoken of signs that would prove them right: the strong, swift river would dwindle to one tenth of its size; the immense flocks of ducks and geese and other river fowl would depart, and the forests would be infested with rats and carrion crows. King Rodric and his court had scoffed at their warnings. They had turned the savages away. As the time grew short, the Penkori had attacked out of desperation, but the wall had stood firm. Still, they had remained in their camps across the river.

Rory could hear King Rodric’s words echoed through his son. “The Penkori say we need to give them the protection of the wall - that its stone is somehow special and keeps the evil at bay. Phaw! It’s just a ruse to invade Alanar. If ever we let those savages inside our walls, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill us all - slit our throats as we slept!”

“A ruse, sire? But the signs –“

“Rivers change.”

“And the rats?”

“All forests have rats. You sound like an old woman!”

“Cor!” interrupted Jonan impatiently. “Are we going or not? I want my trophy. That blow-hard Willard dared us to do this in front of all the other noble boys. I’m not going to back down. No one will ever say that I lacked for courage! We have to find us a Penkori sentry and take his queue. So let’s move or it’ll be sunrise ‘fore we get there, not moonrise.”

It was the dead of night by the time the boys had snuck by the sentries at the wall and clambered down the sharp drop to the flat river basin. As they stepped onto the slightly spongy ground they stopped and looked back up the long hill. But the forest canopy was a blanket of darkness, obscuring the view of the wall as well as the night sky in that direction. Ahead, the mud flats stretched, dim in the light of the stars. A deeper blackness was the only sign of the river, a mere hint of its former strength. Beyond that, the ground rose again. Three pairs of eyes were drawn upward to the far ridge.

“Fire!” whispered Corin. “In amongst the trees. Do you see?”

“You were right,” said Jonan. “It’s the sentry fire.”

“So . . . You mean we needs to sneak up there, find a sentry, and cut off his queue?” asked Rory. “And then what? We say much thanks, Penkori and we`ll just be leaving now?”

“No, you idiot.” Corin laughed quietly.

Jonan sighed. “We have to sneak up and hit the sentry on the head so he’s unconscious, Rory. And so he can’t give the alarm.”

“That’s right,” growled Corin. “We don’t kill him. That way he has to live with the shame of losing his queue. You see? It sends them all a message. Shows them who they’re dealing with. Now, we’re wasting time. Come on.” Corin strode forward, leaving the two to catch him up.

“But won’t the sentry hear us?”

“That’s your job, Rory. Didn’t Corin tell you?”

Rory shook his head.

“You’re the diversion. You will distract the sentry while we sneak up behind.”

Rory sucked his teeth and watched as Jonan followed his cousin. The plan didn’t sound so good to him. Was this adventure really worth it? Rory had to remind himself of why he had agreed in the first place. Yes, he’d been excited at the thought of being a part of such a daring and courageous plan. But it would be the prince and his cousin who would get all the glory. And he knew that despite what the prince might say, he could never be a real squire. That was for the young noble boys as a first step to knighthood. But even as a special servant to the prince, he would gain much status and his stipend would go a long way to supporting his mother and Tuck, his younger brother. A sudden flurry of night wings above his head made him jump and he hurried after the others.

As he came up behind the pair, he heard them whispering, eagerly reciting their Knight’s Creed as he had heard them every day in the training yard for so many months.

“Duty, honour and courage be the Knight’s Creed!

The knight’s duty be to king and country!

Unfailing courage must keep him on the path of honour!

By the gods of heaven and earth, so do we pledge!”

Rory felt only too keenly, the unseen wall that stood between him and the two young knights. How he wished to be a part of that noble brotherhood. But being ‘squire’ to the prince was the best he could ever hope for. And more than most boys like him could even dream of. He’d show the prince that he had courage too! He could be their diversion. He wasn’t sure exactly how, but hopefully something would come to mind.

Soft muck sucked at their boots and oozed water in the tracks they left. But luckily as they reached the old river bottom, the ground turned stony. The water itself only came up to their knees at the deepest point. However, the crossing left them feeling exposed and vulnerable. They hurried forward in a crouch, trying not to splash too loudly.

“We need to be across and under cover before the moon rises,” whispered Corin. “Otherwise we’ll be spotted for sure.”

“Sire, the moon – “

“Shut up, Rory. I don’t want to hear any more idiotic drivel about the moon.”

On the far side, the river had cut deep earthen banks that overhung the riverbed, as tall as eight feet in some spots. Rory looked anxiously behind him, across the river and up the ridge to the wall that now seemed a lifetime away. But his heart tripped in his chest. While they had been intent on crossing undetected, the sly moon had risen silently behind them. He shivered, unable to look away. Like the sightless eye of a cave bat, the silver-blue orb, twice as large as the old yellow moon, hung ominously above the battlements and bathed everything in a sickly, blue sheen. Rory’s mouth went dry. He suddenly realized that the others had left him behind and he hurried to catch up.

He found his companions standing in the ankle-deep water, studying the river bank. Thick, twisted tree roots resembled the pale, bony fingers of long-buried corpses. They plunged out of the soil and into the black muck. The toe of Rory’s boot caught on something and, with a stifled cry, he fell face forward. Under his hand, something ropey and slimy squirmed. A snake? He scrambled, spluttering to his feet.

“For the gods’ sake, be quiet!” hissed Corin as he hauled Rory up by his collar and heaved him towards the bank. “The Penkori may be savages, but they’re not deaf!”

“Corin!” From the dark shadows ahead came Jonan’s choked cry. Leaves danced and whispered secretively in a sudden gust of wind and the moon’s rays broke through the shadows, lighting up the bank and Jonan’s pale face. Rory and Corin froze, unable to believe what they saw.

Pale knobby tree roots were slowly but relentlessly writhing around Jonan’s ankles and shins and creeping up his thighs. One had wound itself around his throat, pulling him up tightly against the bank. The boy had a knife in his hand and was madly slashing at the roots while trying to wriggle free. But as the one around his throat tightened, Jonan dropped the knife and tugged desperately at the sinewy root with his fingers, tearing and scratching in vain.

“Help me!” Jonan wheezed.

“Tis the moon!” Rory gasped, frozen to the spot.

With a yell, Corin unsheathed his sword and attacked the villainous gray ropes. “I’m here, cousin!” he said, between gritted teeth. “I’ll get you out of this.”

Forcing himself to act, Rory pulled out his knife and began sawing at the root that threatened to crush Jonan’s windpipe. But like a whip out of nowhere, a root flicked, stinging Rory’s hand and making him drop the knife. In half a heartbeat it had disappeared into the water. What was that? A sudden movement around his leg had caught his eye. Silently, unobtrusively, a root was twining itself around his own ankle. He cried out and frantically jerked his leg. Oddly, the root suddenly loosened and Rory lost his footing, landing on his back with a splash, in the deep shadow of an overhanging tree limb.

In the next instant, a dark form brandishing a glowing stick landed in their midst. Rory watched, speechless as Corin was shoved unceremoniously out of the way. The shadow began poking at the roots that now covered so much of Jonan that he looked like a caterpillar in a cocoon. Where the glowing end of the stick touched the roots, they writhed angrily, emitting a shrill hissing sound and the air was filled with an acrid reek of burning.

“Get up onto the bank, unless you want to end up like this!” barked the stranger.

But Rory was unable to make his feet move as he watched the roots suddenly constrict around Jonan. There was a horrible snapping sound and Jonan’s head, now almost completely entwined, was viciously jerked to the side. Like a milkweed pod on a broken stem, his head lolled forward, bobbing once before stilling. Rory swallowed, fighting his belly’s reaction to heave everything up. Amidst the roaring in his ears, he heard Corin shouting and the low growl of the man.

There was a flurry of splashing and scrabbling, and Rory watched, dumbstruck, as Corin was hauled up the bank, his arm clenched tightly in the man’s fist. In the pale blue light of the moon, the pair disappeared into the darkness of the forest. Something wriggled under Rory and he jumped up with a yell and leaped for the bank.

Having no recollection of climbing up the roots, Rory found himself standing on firm ground, the river below him. Owl-eyed and with pounding heart, Rory cast around in every direction. He cocked his head, listening. That way! His feet raced up the hill in pursuit, light and shadow flying around him as he tried to keep the dark figures in sight, unwilling to stay one moment longer at the river’s edge. Alone. Save for Jonan. And the roots.

Rory had followed Corin and the man upwards to the top of the wooded ridge till finally they had stopped at this place – a sentry post that, in daylight would command a good view of the riverbed and the wall. Fire, warm and welcoming, crackled in the clearing – the same fire that the three of them had seen from the other side of the river. Around the perimeter, smoke climbed into the air from more of the glowing sticks that protruded from the ground, leaving the same sharp, bitter stench in Rory’s nostrils as before. On his stomach, Rory now watched and listened from under the low branches of a fir tree, trying to keep his pounding heart from giving his hiding place away.

Corin sat shivering in his sodden clothes, hands trussed behind him, looking miserable and, Rory thought not a little scared. The Penkori had relieved the prince of his sword and it gleamed in the firelight as the sentry admired the fine workmanship before stowing it in his satchel. Rory’s hand went to his belt and he suddenly remembered losing his own knife at the river.

The sentry turned back and studied his captive. “If you would stop trying to escape, foolish boy, you wouldn`t need to be bound. The evil will pass now that the moon has set.”

To Rory’s ears, the man’s speech had an odd inflection. He was extremely tall and broad, clad in leather and fur. High cheekbones and the black queue that snaked down his back left no doubt that he was Penkori. He looked every bit a savage and dangerous man.

“I am sorry for your friend.” His breath misted as he spoke in the dampness of the pre-dawn air. “But there was nothing I could have done. Even with the Halla fire. It was too late.”

Did he mean the glowing sticks? Rory wondered.

Corin said nothing. After a short pause, the man continued. “What were you trying to do? Two boys from across the river. And the blue moon risen. Did someone put you up to this foolishness?”

Rory sucked in his breath. Two? Did the sentry not know about him?

The man shook his head and snorted. “You made enough noise, even in the middle of the river, to wake a bear in winter. Do they not teach young warriors these things in your country?”

Corin’s head snapped up. His eyes narrowed. “Do not insult me, savage. The Knights of Alaran have no equal! And I am the - . . . a knight!”

The man’s lips twitched. “Well, then, knight, I had better make sure you are properly bound, for my own safety.” He squatted beside Corin and shoved him onto his side. From his belt, the Penkori drew some rope and began to tie Corin’s ankles.

“Y-you savages would mur-murder us all, given the chance!” Corin’s quivering voice no longer held his usual bravado, with his face pressed into the dirt.

“Is that what you think?” The sentry sat back on his heels, his countenance darkening. “That we are murderers and savages?” He paused, then spat in the dirt beside Corin’s face. “You know nothing. We are herders and hunters. We respect the land and its bounty that the Good Mother has bestowed upon us. We kill if we need - to eat, to survive, but we do not murder. That goes against our sacred laws. All we have asked of your king is that he give us the protection of the wall.”

Rory thought hard. Could he believe this man? Everything he had ever heard about the Penkori spoke of their barbaric savagery. Could they have been wrong? Still, he had to do something. Rescue the prince. But how? He’d lost his only weapon. Then his fingers closed around the smooth, cold surface of a rock and Jonan’s words echoed in his mind. We have to sneak up and hit the sentry on the head so he’s unconscious, Rory.

A grunt exploded from the Penkori’s lips as the rock smashed down. Blood! Dark. Shiny. It dribbled down the side of the sentry’s face and turned the edge of the rock black as the man slumped into the dirt. Rory stared at the unconscious body at his feet, surprised at how easy it had been.

“Quick! Untie me!” hissed Corin.

Rory pulled the knife from the man’s belt and quickly slit the ropes.

“Give me that!” The prince snatched the knife from Rory’s hand. He stood and looked down at the sentry, his eyes narrowed. “Foolish boy, eh? Who’s the fool now? You pigpiss!”

The knife glinted in the light of the fire as Corin thrust it into the man’s back. Once. Twice. Rory gasped and stepped back. He watched, stunned, as Corin grabbed the queue at the base of the man’s neck and pulled. With a quick swish of the blade, the queue was in Corin’s hand and the man’s head flopped into the dirt for the second time.

“What – why –?”

Corin’s eyes were shards of steel. “He’s the enemy. He deserved to die. And besides, I needed to avenge Jonan’s death.”

“But he saved your life,” croaked Rory. “He tried to save Jonan. I thought we was just going to hit him over the head!”

Corin’s chest heaved in and out, his nostrils flared. “Idiot! You didn’t believe anything he said, did you? He was going to take me to his camp! Torture me too, most likely! They say those savages torture their prisoners for days, until they beg for death.” Corin’s voice quivered and he pointed an accusatory finger at the dead man. “Besides. That - that savage killed Jonan!”

Rory shook his head. “It were the roots! The roots killed Lord Jonan – and the moon. Not him! He didn’t act like no savage.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Corin took a menacing step toward Rory. “He took us by surprise and killed my lord cousin. I killed the brute and this is my proof!” He shook the queue at Rory. It wriggled like a snake in Corin’s hand. Like one of the roots, thought Rory, with a mental shudder. “Say it! Say that he killed Jonan! By all the gods, swear it!”

Rory stared at Corin for several heartbeats, then whispered, “All right. H – He killed Jonan.”

“Swear it on your soul!”

“I – I swear.”

“Remember that. On your soul! Now come on. Someone might come. And the sun will be up soon.” Corin quickly retrieved his sword from the sentry’s pack, then grabbed Rory by the upper arm and pulled him into the woods. By the time they reached the river bank, dawn had turned the eastern sky above the battlements a pearl gray. The boys looked along the river’s edge. But there was no sign of Jonan, although the roots seemed to be thicker, protrude further, in one particular spot. Rory did not want to look too closely.

They made the crossing without incident and stopped briefly on the far side. They turned back to stare at the far bank, now fully visible as the first rays of the sun peeked over the battlements and turned the mist that clung to the trees’ topmost branches to gold. And the forest slumbered, still and silent, keeping her secrets.

“Remember, Rory,” Corin said softly, his gaze fixed on the far riverbank. “You swore on your soul.”

***
“Don’t I just wish I could be a noble knight!” sighed the sandy haired Tuck as he stood by the stable door. Tearing his eyes away from the scene in the training ground where the young knights were finishing their sword practice for the day, he turned to eye Rory who was grooming the prince’s dapple gray stallion. Rory looked up briefly. He followed his younger brother’s gaze, outside to where the youths stood at attention, the tips of their swords planted in the dirt as they recited the Knight’s Creed. The weapons-master’s bark reached every corner of the yard, even into the stable.

And the youths continued their recitation, “Unfailing courage must keep him on the path of honour!” came their unified voices.

“And look at you in your fine tunic, Rory,” continued Tuck. “Right kingly! You - a squire to the prince! Who’d’ve thought such a thing possible!”

Rory raised an eyebrow. “Work is work and yours ain’t getting done, mooning over being a knight and such nonsense. Them boots won’t polish themselves, Tuck.”

“Perchance I will go on an adventure one day and do something grand and noble like you.” Tuck returned to the bale of hay where his chore awaited him.

Rory grimaced. Grand and noble? Like the Knight’s Creed? Rory had stood beside Corin and faced the king and Jonan’s father, the king’s brother. He had kept his vow and corroborated Corin’s story. Predictably, after the week of mourning for the Lord Jonan, the prince had been punished for disobeying the king’s law by going beyond the wall, and made to wear battle mail over a horse-hair shirt waking and sleeping for three days.

But even so, Corin had kept his promise to Rory, albeit with a warning glint in his eye. He had been very generous, making Rory an unofficial squire and presenting him with handsome clothes. One tunic in particular was richly embroidered with silk, to be worn when he served his prince at banquets. Even more, Corin had given him a magnificent dagger that held a small, but flawless red carnelian in its silver pommel, to replace the one he had lost. Its worth was beyond anything Rory had ever imagined having. So why did Rory feel so unhappy? No, that wasn’t the word, he realized. Shame. That’s what ate at his heart.

Rory’s hand paused in its brushing of the stallion’s flank and he sighed. Across his vision sped flashes of a young man, shrouded in ghostly tendrils; deep shadows and sickly blue moonlight; firelight reflecting in the glazed eyes of a dead warrior.

He shook himself out of his disturbing thoughts when he realized Tuck was saying something more.

“. . . Penkori will be taken by surprise. The army leaves at dawn on the morrow. And Prince Corin will ride beside his father.” Tuck gestured excitedly with his polishing cloth. “Did ye hear? The king be havin’ the queue gilded, right after him and the army get back from havin’ their own sort of vengeance for the Lord Jonan. There won’t be a Penkori left alive for a hundred leagues! Gods! I’d give my very soul to be a knight - be there when they kill those blood-thirsty savages.”

Your soul? thought Rory, staring with unseeing eyes at the brush in his hand. Is anything worth that? And what of a man’s life? What of thousands? Women and children as well. Taken by surprise, they would all die, with no one to help them. No one to warn them. And then, as if he had been plunged into a mountain lake, the thought came to him with icy clarity and he knew what he had to do.

***
There was no moon that night. Gray clouds hung ponderously low and a wet drizzle had already soaked through Rory’s wool cape. He stood on the spongy ground, looking across the river and upwards to the ridge where a fire winked between darkly swaying branches. What if the Penkori didn’t believe him? What if they were just as savage as he’d always been told? No, he told himself. He didn’t believe that. Not anymore.

Rory tried to swallow but could get no spit in his dry mouth. No one had told him that courage felt a lot like being sick to your stomach. Behind him was everything he held dear in the world and with the next step, there would be no turning back. His mother had cried when he’d explained and given her the dagger. The money from selling it would keep her and Tuck fed for a year. Possibly two.

Rory took a deep breath and, without looking back, stepped into the river.
*
Cathy Hendrix is a recently retired elementary French teacher. She's relatively new to story writing, although she has had much oral practice telling bedtime stories to her children over the years.  It was her daughter’s continuous requests for “Princess Stephanie stories” that finally pushed her into the writing process. That and being hugely inspired by fantasy novelists such as Tolkien and CS Lewis, Terry Goodkind, Robert Jordan and more recently, George RR Martin.  In December, Cathy gave a reading of “Blue Moon Rising” at CJ's Cafe.

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.