Get a head start on spring ~ join us for a writing retreat at the Briars, Friday, March 4 – Monday, March 7

Get a head start on spring at the Briars Writing Retreat

Friday, March 4 – Monday, March 7, 2022
The Briars Resort & Spa on Lake Simcoe
55 Hedge Road, Jackson’s Point, Ontario, Canada (Map here)

Give yourself a four days of writing time – a long weekend of instruction, inspiration and creativity. Award yourself with time away from distractions, with no dishes to do, delicious food at every meal, and with the leisure you need to sit with your feet up and write.

The retreat will feature both instruction and guided writing exercises, plus one-on-one critiquing and coaching from Brian.  You’ll also have lots of time to relax, rejuvenate, and reconnect with your creativity. All writing levels welcome. Whether you’re just beginning or have a novel in progress, please join us. 

The setting: Originally a Regency-style Manor House built by Captain William Bourchier in 1840, the estate was purchased in 1870 by Dr. Frank Sibbald, who added two wings to the manor house, a coach house, a brick stable and of course a peacock house, because where else are you going to keep your peacocks?

The Briars also has a storied literary history.  Humorist Stephen Leacock was a great friend of the Sibbalds, visited often, and is buried just down the road from the resort at the pretty St. George’s churchyard, as is author Mazo de la Roche. De la Roche’s Jalna series were worldwide bestsellers, making her one of Canada’s bestselling authors ever. Indeed, her books are available to this day from Dundurn Press.

Today, the Briars still offers the warmth of a country estate steeped in history while providing all the benefits of an extensive, modern lakeside resort.

Rates include accommodation. Each room has a king, queen or two twin beds, and an en-suite four-piece bathroom.

All meals – Friday dinner, Saturday and Sunday breakfast, lunch and dinner, Monday breakfast and lunch – are provided, as are coffee & snack breaks on Saturday and Sunday. Alcoholic beverages are extra, as are Spa treatments – but you might want to check those out (see here).

All activities included. When you’re not writing, or for spouses who accompany you, there is plenty to do. The resort has an indoor pool, a well-equipped exercise room, and a games room with pool, shuffleboard, ping pong, and foosball. The resort features its own nature trails, with other trails three kilometers down the road at Sibbald Point Provincial Park. And of course there are plenty of nooks around the resort that are ideal for reading, resting and unwinding.

Check-in on Friday is 4 p.m. Our first writing get-together will be at 5 p.m. On Monday, we'll have our last writing get-together at 10 a.m., ending at 11 a.m. Check out is at 12 noon. But once you’ve had lunch, don’t feel you have to rush off! You can stay for the rest of the day, enjoying the amenities of the resort. Participants are welcome to bring a non-participating significant other. 

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 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 their first book published and launch their careers as authors.

Read about previous retreats here {and scroll down}.

Fee, including both the writing retreat and accommodation, meals, coffee & snack service, tips and all resort amenities, for all three nights: $1,318.58 plus 13% hst 

Not included: alcoholic drinks (or any drinks bought at Drinkwaters Lounge), spa services, or other extras.

Bring a (non-participating) significant other along for the weekend to share your room for an additional $119.47 plus hst per night (includes accommodation, meals and all resort amenities, but not the writing part of the retreat). This is special reduced pricing offered by the Briars for conference participant spouses.

Book early – space is limited! So that we can maintain physical distancing, we'll have fewer people at the retreat than we’ve had in the before-times, so it will be a more intimate experience and participants will have more opportunity for one-on-one coaching with Brian. Full receipts issued.

For more information or to register, email: brianhenry@sympatico.ca

 Note: Bookings for accommodations for this retreat must be done through Brian (unlike our retreats in Algonquin, where you book your accommodations through the resort).

Should I bring my work in progress?

Yes! If you have an on-going writing project, bring it with you. Bring more than you expect to get to; you'll have lots of time for writing. Besides, you may want to switch projects or share a project that’s just started or one that’s all done, except for reading it to a small, appreciative audience. If you’re not currently working on anything, don’t worry, we’ll get you writing.

Should I bring my laptop?

Yes! Unless you only work on paper. Or bring both – your laptop and your writing pad. No sense being short of essential supplies.

Who can attend the retreat?

Everyone interested in developing their writing skills is welcome to attend, whether you're aspiring writer or an accomplished author or simply enjoy writing as a hobby. There is no requirement for you to have been previously published or even to have an intention to publish.

I'm a poet / playwright / other writer. Is this retreat for me?

The retreat is open to anyone who enjoys writing. Instruction will focus on narrative writing; i.e., stories, whether fiction or memoir. But if you’re an essayist or poet or whatever, you’re entirely welcome.

Can you cater to specific dietary requirements?

Yes. But you need to let me know ASAP, so I can let the staff know about your needs.

I want to stay longer or arrive early. Is that possible?

If you want to arrive early or stay longer, that’s fine. You’ll book the Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night with Brian, and arrange any additional nights with the resort; just make sure they know you’re with Brian Henry’s writing group.

Is there cell phone reception and WIFI?

Alas, yes.

How about alcohol?

The resort serves alcohol with meals and has a licensed lounge called Drinkwaters. Guests are also welcome to bring their own wine, beer or whatever for consumption in their room. (Though do note that Hemingway’s advice to write drunk, mostly produces drivel.)

Can I use the spa at the resort or play a round of golf?

Yes, you can certainly book a spa treatment or a round of gold, though that’s extra, and you book these directly with the resort {not through Brian}.

Can I bring my spouse (or partner or friend)?

If you want to share your room with a partner, they’re very welcome. Just let them know you’ll be spending most of your time writing, (though you will have some free time every day).

For more information or to register, email: brianhenry@sympatico.ca 

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

 

“Stones and Clouds” by Barbara Stokes

I watch clouds and I pick up stones. Some gather seashells by the seashore, but I’m hunting for the shiny wet pebbles left behind after the waves retreat. I take my time choosing a special one. Granite; shale; quartz; the occasional fossil. Smooth grey, deep black, sparkly white, blood red with an iron heart; one split evenly into two parts one black, one white. They may not look like much when you hold them in your hand but add water and their beauty shines like the diamonds they could have become.

My collection of stones bears no resemblance to a lapidary’s with its neatly printed labels and small compartments. It is piled in ceramic dishes on window sills, side tables and dressers. I find one occasionally in a pocket. Forgotten then rediscovered when the weather has changed and I’m searching for a suitable jacket. Ah, yes. I must have been wearing this raincoat when we hiked the trail at Nethy Bridge.

I have harvested stones from the rocky beach on the Firth of Cromarty in Scotland; from Rossport on the northern Lake Superior shoreline; from the entrance to the Jack Ladder trail carving through old growth forests in Temagami. 

Inside them, held in stasis in their veins, is the history of our universe. These crumbs shed from our earth’s core, these leftovers, are billions of years old. The younger ones only 570 million years or so, give or take 20 million. I pick them up from the ground free of charge.

I’m not much of a beach person. Lying prone under the unremitting glare of heat, sun and burning sand is not my idea of time well spent. A stormy day with dramatic clouds lifts my spirits. It is unpredictable and as such, far more interesting. 

A sand beach is what is left when stones are worn down to their shattered and powdered bones. Give me the northern hemisphere’s Precambrian crusts forced up from the ocean in a hiss of volcanic steam or built through eons of geologic time and pressure. Give me cool northern freshwater lakes left behind in the glacier’s retreat and let me inhale the mineral scent of joy.

Volutus cloud

This love of the hard stuff came to me late. I bombed out early in high school geography. A year later, under the guidance of a skinny Scot, (thank you Mr. McCully), I discovered, for the first time, the magnificent design of our world. I bombed out of earth sciences again at university when my sad lack of maths and sciences eroded my friable GPA. Even after this painful fissure, my love endured.

Earth and sky; oceans and deserts; weather systems and climate zones; drumlins and eskers; cirques and rills. I mapped the world wind systems, learned about igneous, sedimentary and metamorphic rocks, and named the different cloud formations that floated in the summer sky above us, as we lazed on the dock. 

Asperitus clouds

A part of science is naming things; the Latin name classifies and explains. Writing is naming too. How best to describe the cloud formations science has named; Cumulus, Cirrus, Stratus. Maybe you call them thunderheads, poached salmon or clouds from the Simpsons opening credits.  Cumulus is a heap. Stratus; a layer. Cirrus; a lock of horsehair. These clouds are the foundations on which all other clouds are built. 

This is poetry. Consider the new cloud names; Asperitus, Mammatus, and the latest and perhaps greatest, Volutus. These names don’t come from the Marvel universe but from our own marvellous universe. No wonder there is a Cloud Appreciation Society.

By its nature a cloud is fleeting. Like the atmosphere around us, clouds are motion, ever evolving. Like snowflakes, no two are ever the same. Clouds form and continually recycle the water from the oceans. I watch them as they change, but unlike my rocks, I can collect them only in my memories.

The stones in my collection will never change their form. Within the expanding measure of time, all the places where I found the stones will be changed. The water will rise and fall, future generations will excavate and build, sand thieves will come with shovels for the beaches. The stones will stay, stand and see it all.

***

Barbara (BC) Stokes spent her formative years writing words for other people to use. She's written mounds of ad copy, talk show banter, video scripts to launch hair-growth formula and speeches for politicians and well-perked executives. Over the past few years, she began writing seriously for fun, starting small with poems composed on the GO train. 

Now she enjoys putting words into her characters' mouths and watching them extricate themselves from threatening situations. Barbara is working on a novel inspired by something that happened to someone in Saskatchewan. She lives in the garden paradise of Burlington, Ontario with her husband; a teacher and artist.

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

The CBC is looking for first-person essays and opinion pieces, and no, you don’t have to be a professional writer

 

“I survived a war as a child, but life doesn’t owe me anything”
a First Person column by Nadja Halibegovich. See  here

First Person columns are personal stories and experiences of Canadians, in their own words. These columns showcase a more intimate storytelling perspective, and allow people from across the country to share what they have lived through. 

A good piece will spur conversation. It could be a slice of life or a transformative moment that changed your life. Perhaps your personal story will inform how the reader thinks about the world. 

A good piece should focus on one thing and explore it in-depth, rather than giving a broad overview of a subject.

“We are looking particularly for personal stories that reflect contemporary Canada, encompassing experiences from outside major urban centres, from people with disabilities, from Black, Indigenous and other people of colour, and from diverse economic-social perspectives.”

First-time contributors are always welcome and can often have new insight on a topic. You do not have to be a professional writer, but you should have an interesting personal narrative with details that can sustain 500 to 600 words. Columns must be original work that have not been published elsewhere.

You can send a pitch summarizing your submission to: firstperson@cbc.ca

See full guidelines and examples of First Person pieces here.

CBC Opinion aims to represent a range of commentary and a diversity of political thought from new contributors.

“Our goal is to give the audience access to competing ideas and perspectives which complement CBC's news coverage and provide additional insight.

“We're looking for contributors from a variety of backgrounds who have a strong opinion that could illuminate an issue in the news or change how people think about a timely issue. Preference is given to unexpected points of view that challenge preconceptions, have not been widely published before, or covered by CBC News in our reporting. 

“Each Opinion column must stand independently, laying out the author's clear position with supporting arguments and researched context. Columns should not simply repeat facts.

“Authors do not necessarily have to be professional or high-profile writers.

“We generally prefer an email pitch summarizing the idea and supporting arguments so that there is not an extra effort made to create a full column, if it is not accepted and commissioned. However, if a draft column already exists, you are free to also send it along as a Word doc. 

“We prefer that columns be topical, have a word count of 600 to 700 words, and not be written in the first person unless it's unavoidable due to the subject matter or focus. A column pitched to us should be original work that has not been published elsewhere.” 

Send your pitch or column to: opinion@cbc.ca

See full guidelines and examples of opinion columns here.

Note: A First Person column relies on specific experience lived by the contributor. It should be a compelling narrative that readers may relate to because they, too, have experienced something similar or because they are learning something new through a perspective on a situation. 

An Opinion column relies on expertise held by the contributor that helps support an argument with a potential impact on society. These columns showcase a wide range of commentary to give the audience access to competing ideas and perspectives which complement CBC News coverage, and provide additional insight. 

*** 

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

Contests for teens and adults, plus paying markets for poetry and prose

Note: You can hang out and chat with quick brown foxes and vixens on my Facebook page (here). Just send a friend request to Brian Henry

Also, if you’re not yet on my newsletter, send me an email, including your locale, to: brianhenry@sympatico.ca ~ Brian

 

The CBC is accepting entries from students, grades 7 – 12, for their First Page writing challenge.

Write the first page of a novel set in 150 years from now, exploring how a modern day current affairs event or trend has played out. Your entry must be between 300-400 words in length. Your entry also needs a title, which is not included in the word limit.

This contest is open to all Canadian residents who are full-time students enrolled in Grades 7 to 12. Entries will be judged in two age categories: Grades 7 to 9 and Grades 10 to 12.

The winner of each category will receive a one-year subscription to OwlCrate, which delivers monthly boxes of books and literary-related goodies. The school library of each winner will also receive a donation of 50 books.

Deadline February 28, 2022. Details here.

 

The 2022 CBC Nonfiction Prize is now open

You may submit any unpublished work of nonfiction: memoir, biography, humour writing, essay (including personal essay), travel writing, or a feature article. Maximum 2,000 words, no minimum.

The entry fee is $25, which covers the costs of administering the prize.

The winner will receive $6,000 from the Canada Council for the Arts, have the opportunity to attend a two-week writing residency at the Banff Centre for Arts and Creativity and have their work published on CBC Books.

Four finalists will each receive $1,000 from the Canada Council for the Arts and have their work published on CBC Books.

Deadline Feb. 28, 2022. Details here.

Note: The 2022 CBC Poetry Prize will open in April, and the 2023 CBC Short Story Prize will open in September 2022.

 

Update: Prospectus has closed to submissions.

Prospectus sees its mission as discovering new poets and bringing them out of obscurity (though it also publishes prose. So Prospectus welcomes submissions from unpublished or little-published poets as well as short fiction (2,500– 3,000 words), reviews of poetry and short story collections, and fine-art images for their print journal. Pays $25 U.S.

Prospectus also welcomes pieces for their blog: poetry, very short fiction and creative nonfiction (500– 1,500 words), reviews (500–1,500 words) essays on an author, book, or single piece (500–2,000 words), and fine art. No genre pieces (no vampires, serial killers, romance, ect.)

Reading periods for journal: Dec 1 – Feb 28 and June 1 – Aug 31. The blog is always open for submissions. Full guidelines here.

 

HerStories seeks personal essays about midlife female friendship. What are your friendships like now? What are the fissures, the pleasures, the challenges? What have you realized about specific friendships or about the role of friendships in general?

Essays should be 750–1200 words. Pays $50 U.S.

Deadline: February 28, 2022. Guidelines here.

 

Good morning,

I am pleased to provide this advance notice of the upcoming 2022 Royal Canadian Legion Seniors (55+) Literary Competition. 

Poems, essays, memoirs, and short stories are welcome. Contest opens February 14, 2022, and closes June 18, 2022.

Please spread the word to your friends and let's see if we can exceed 100 entries this year.

Forward your electronic entry to: districteseniorsliterary@gmail.com 

Or: branch270seniorsliterary@gmail.com

If using  districteseniorsliterary@gmail.com  be sure to include the letter 'e' after district.

I look forward to hearing from you and reading your entries again this year.

 Please feel free to contact me if you have any questions.

 Good luck everyone.

 Betty-Jean Murray

Seniors Literary Chairman
Branch 270 Coldwater
https://www.coldwaterlegion.com/

 

Quick Brown Fox Quick Brown Fox welcomes your book reviews and your short stories, poems, and essays about reading, writing, favourite books, and libraries. Read a few essays on the blog to get a taste of what other writers have done (see here and scroll down).

Quick Brown Fox also welcomes reviews of any kind and of anything, anywhere or anybody. If you want to review your favourite coffee shops or libraries, babysitters or lovers (no real names please), go for it. See examples of book reviews here (and scroll down); other reviews here (and scroll down).

Submit to: brianhenry@sympatico.ca

Include a short bio at the end of your piece and attach a photo of yourself if you have one that’s okay.

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

“Waiting for Ralph” by Evena Gottschalk

The horn at the Sugar factory signalled the end of the day’s shift. The last donkey cart stuffed with sugar cane rumbled down the dirt track to the factory. Boys playing a game of bat and ball in the road scattered out of its way. Alma Alleyne, a resident of Porter Village, stepped out of the house, and checked for her seven-year-old daughter Cora.

“Cora,” Alma called. “Where are you?” Then from the far side of the next-door neighbour’s house, she heard the familiar sound of hands clapping. Alma raised her voice.

“Listen, Cora, you better get inside, or I’ll have to tell your father when he comes home.” 

Cora, who simultaneously adored and feared her father, ran towards Alma.

“I here, Mummy,” said Cora, offering her best angelic face. Alma ignored her, marched into the house with a sulking Cora behind her.

“Go wash your face,” said Alma, turning to look at the clock. “Your father will soon be home.” 

While Cora washed, Alma peered through the window at the sky painted in brilliant oranges and reds. Although she had witnessed many sunsets, no two were ever the same. Unwilling to miss a moment of the sunset’s surrender to dusk, she remained at the window.

Then, she glanced at the clock on the corner table.

“He should be here by now. I wonder what happened?”

Cora, hugging her rag doll, ran to Alma, nestled her head within the folds of Alma’s skirt. “Mummy, light the lamp, I scared.”

Alma lit the lamp in the front room, carefully replacing the lampshade with its Home Sweet Home etchings on the chimney. She recalled the Saturday afternoon he surprised her with it. They had butchered a hog, and she had just returned from delivering the final package of meat to a customer. Entering the house, Ralph said, “You home already?”

She did not reply. She kept moving towards him. “What you hiding from me?” she asked. 

“Nothing,” said Ralph as he beeped and bopped in front of her. 

“Let me see,” she said. Laughing, she pushed him aside to find a “fancy lamp with a fancy shade.”

“Wait,” she said. “You didn’t get you self in debt with that peddler?”

“No, man,” Ralph said. “You know it’s crop season and I save a little extra money to buy this for you.”

Cora, unimpressed by her mother’s giggling, pouted.  

“Mummy, are there sweet and sour homes? Is our home sweet like the Home Sweet Home lamp?”

“Why would you ask such a thing?” said Alma. “The things you ask. You must be going to be a lawyer or something.”

“But Mummy, you sure you can’t taste a home like sugar cakes or sweet bread?” asked Cora, looking curiously into her mother’s eyes.

“What do you think Cora?”

“I think we have a sweet home, and you and Daddy make it sweet.”

That had been last year. Now Alma went into the kitchen, lit the kerosene stove to boil fresh cow’s milk. From a shelf she removed two enamel cups for cooling the milk. And from the larder she retrieved a tin of Ovaltine.

“Can I have a biscuit with my tea?” Cora asked. Alma handed her two biscuits. Cora broke them into pieces, added them to the milk.

“Sit down,” said Alma. “Say your grace. Thank God for ya meal.”

Alma returned to the front room, checked the clock, the street.

“Mummy, where’s Daddy?” Cora whined. 

Alma ignored her. “Don’t worry,” said Alma. “He coming home soon.” Under her breath she whispered, “I hope this home still sweet.” 

Finally, Cora pushed the chair aside, said, “I hear footsteps, I hear footsteps, it’s Daddy.” The two rushed to the door. Instead, it was their next door neighbour. Alma stepped outside. Cora rested on the doorpost.

“Good night, Mr. Jackson, you see Ralph anywhere?”

“No,” he said. “Don’t worry, you know how it is. Maybe somebody tek real sick at the factory and Ralph had to fill in.”

“I never thought about that,” she said. “Thank you. I was here worrying all dis time.”

“Looka dat full moon, wunna women does worry about everything,” Mr. Jackson said. 

“I was so lost in muh thoughts,” she said. “I didn’t think bout dat. I forgot it was a full moon tonight.”

“Cora,” she shouted. “Come and see the man in the moon.”

Sucking her thumb, Cora stood with Alma in the middle of the gravel road. Cora tugged at her mother’s skirt. 

“I know you dey, Cora Ann,” Alma said. “The moon too pretty and bright. If your father was home, we all could have taken a moonlight walk to the end of the road. Next time.”

“You think any duppees out there in the cane fields?” asked Cora.

Mr. Jackson laughed. “Who tell you dat? With all the canes cut down, the one ting out dey is de big rats running round looking for a new home.” He rubbed Cora’s braided hair. “Better go in before the duppees get ya,” he teased.

Alma grasped Cora’s hand. “Come,” she said. “Your father should soon be home. Sit and play with your doll. I going to check things.”

After Alma had completed her evening housekeeping ritual of sweeping, cleaning, she opened the kitchen window, grabbed the searchlight, flicked the switch. She pointed the light around the yard to check the livestock. Everything was still. Finally, she latched the wooden windows, proceeded to the front room.

She lifted the lamp, called to Cora. “We going in,” she said. “Come.” 

Cora’s eyes weighed heavily with sleep. Alma lit the bedroom lamp. Cora, fading fast, crawled into her nightie. On cue, she dropped to her knees, while Alma sat on the bed.

“Close your eyes,” said Alma. At the end of the Lord’s Prayer, Alma lifted Cora into bed. For a moment, she watched over Cora. Ralph sometimes stayed away for a few days and came home stinking. What would become of the two of them if Ralph disappeared? What would life be like without Ralph? There were endless what ifs she said to herself. She sighed, kissed Cora, hurried out of the room.

Stillness enveloped the house. Only the creaking sound from the rocking chair intruded on Alma’s silence and exhaustion. Occasionally, she jumped out of the chair to peep through the front door’s wooden jalousies. No Ralph. Where was he? How could she sleep? 

She had to be “just in case” ready, she thought. Just in case he needed a cup of tea and biscuits. Or just in case he needed a shot glass for his rum. Alma was unsure about the final “just in case.” 

After a few shots, a new, crude Ralph would emerge. A Ralph who didn’t even know himself. When she’d tried to explain to Ralph, or told him how she hid in the bushes outside, he’d said, “You lie, Alma. No way. Sometimes, I need dat drink It help me to rise every morning to face the back breaking work at the factory from sunup to sundown.” 

If only it were one drink. If only, if only, … and with that going through her mind, she drifted into sleep.

***

At first, Alma thought she heard a knock. She threw her head back, dozed off again. As the knocking rose to a crescendo, she opened her eyes, yawned.

“Ralph? Is that you?”  

A man’s voice said, “Alma, it’s Sergeant Haynes from the district police station. You know me.”

Alma stumbled to the corner table, retrieved a flashlight. She opened the window, shone the light on the policeman. He covered his eyes.

“Turn off the light. It’s me, George. You remember me from school days? I’ve bad news, Alma.”

*** 

Evena (or Avivi) Gottschalk is a Barbadian Canadian writer who lives in Toronto. She has previously worked in Not-For-Profit and Corporate Communications. She has recently started writing fictional short stories inspired by her childhood in Barbados.  Her hobbies include reading, writing and traveling. 

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

Happy Lunar New Year

 

May the year of the tiger bring you good health and good fortune!