Last Snowshoe

I took my last snowshoe yesterday. The snow in the woods is not gone by any means but there are large patches of ground interspersed with the snow patches. It is interesting to see what I have been snowshoeing over for the last two and a half months. I could possibly navigate the bare spots but it is the unpredictability of the snow covered spots that holds the peril. They are soft and can plunge you to the uncertain depths below. There is also the uncertainty of the mud and running water hiding under the snow cover. Yesterday I took a step and both snowshoes went in a mud hole up to the ankles of my boots. So I will wait until the wood road dries up enough for me to walk it in my rubber boots and hang up my snowshoes for the season. Last night about 80 people came out to launch The Memory Chair. I got the book from my publisher about a month ago and let it go out to some family and friends but last night it got it's official send off. My friend and former colleague Ellen Whittaker Brown introduced me . She had declined from reading the book ahead of time as she wanted to prepare her talk without knowing the story. She picked up on the theme of memories from the title and wrote a beautiful essay about packing up her Mom's home and the memories it held and where our memories originate. It was lovely. Ashlie closed the night with a moving tribute and her words mean the world to me. Another highlight of the evening and words I will treasure came from my six year old granddaughter, Emma. She was sitting at the computer in my office when I walked in after getting ready for the launch. She turned and with such excitement said "Oh My God, Monkey you look gorgeous." I was raised to never take the lord's name in vain so my first instinct is to change her OMG to Oh my goodness. That is a bit of a loosing battle these days when that phrase is heard everywhere. I was tempted to censor her statement but in the interest of authenticity and truthfulness those were her exact words and the sentence that will best reflect the wonderful night of my fourth book launch.

Pre-Launch with Gladys

Who do I want to be when I grow up? I want to be Gladys Titus. Gladys is 92, sharp as a tack and the best story teller I know. She is a journal keeper extraordinaire and is the matriarch of almost 50 descendants. She holds court in a small room in a big house that she used to be the mistress of but gave over to her daughter in law and son some years ago. She has the fabric of almost one hundred years stitched firmly into her memory and is always willing to share a glimpse of it to anyone that asks. She can still keep up with the best of them when conversation gets interesting and she introduced me to skinny dipping. She remembers with clarity what she was wearing and every other little detail of events that happened a lifetime ago. Every time I come away from a talk with Gladys whether it is a five minute conversation or a long visit I am thankful for having had the opportunity to sit with her. Yesterday I took a book to Gladys. I had a cup of tea and a ginger snap and had a pre- launch for the Memory Chair just in case Gladys doesn't get to my launch. Gladys has been at every launch so far and hopes to make this one. I hope she makes many more to come.

Sometimes Life Trips You Up

I am going to talk about snowshoeing again. If snow keeps falling which it is this morning and if the snow we have doesn't melt soon I will be snowshoeing for awhile yet, even though April is not thought to be a winter activity month. Yesterday, I noticed the name on my snowshoes Winter Leisure I kind of chuckled thinking that my daily treks into the woods are not always leisurely. Apparently some people have leisure time. Don't get me wrong I love all the activities I fill my days with and would not want to leisurely lie around watching TV . Winter Pleasure would be a better name for my snowshoes because that is what they have provided me every time I strap them on. Yesterday I had a few close calls or close falls. The snow is quite packed and crunchy and every once in awhile the front of the snowshoe catches and almost trips me up. It came to me that that is what life is like. You are going along completely wrapped up in whatever you are doing and all of a sudden Boom, you are flat on your face. Sixteen years ago we took a big fall. Since April 18th , 1999 we have been struggling to get back up and some days it is harder than others .Back up but never the same as before we fell. Never the same again. Lots of other stumbles have come our way. Life trips you up. When you catch yourself and prevent the fall, adrenalin courses through you and your heart beats faster until you level out. The adrenalin that keeps us going are the gifts that we are constantly given. Today I look ahead to the gift Meg's wedding will be for us this month. My two precious granddaughters will throw flowers and stand with their parents as they say their vows. We will be together and celebrate as a family the gift of getting back up.

Input and Output

Ok here we go. April is upon us and we are in the final stretch of the race we have been anticipating. The goal is anniversary, launch , wedding and book tour. I find it all a bit daunting, doable(I hope), but daunting. I returned from a week with the girls. A week of birthday parties, bedtime stories, snuggles and wedding talk. I got back to my wood road yesterday. Snowshoeing was perfect. The snow was crystallized and for the most part you could walk on top and still go anywhere. The woods still provide a getaway where I can fill up. Yesterday I considered the idea of input and output. On my return flight I watched The Hunger Games Mocking Jay Part 1. This would not be my first choice and I probably wouldn't go to the theatre to watch it but the other selections that interested me had already been seen on the way out. Catness Everdean is a great name especially when uttered with contempt by Donald Sutherland. One gem I took from the movie was the wisdom that the only things that drive us in life should be the ones we ourselves are passionate about and our motivation should come from our own sources not those that are forced on us by others. We truly reach our potential when we are true to our own convictions and respond to what really matters. Input and output ; the struggle to keep fueled and to do the stuff that really matters. We sometimes get caught up in the output without making sure we have looked after the input. For me that means filling up on a regular basis. Writing for instance has it's fair share of output. The book tour will require a huge amount . My daily writing is what fills up the reservoir from which I will have to take. It is the same with the energy and resources I will need to pull off the rest of the month's challenges. I expect to have 11 writing days. I expect to have several more snowshoeing days. I must also make sure that my motivations are in order and carefully do it all for the right reasons. So today I take the time to fill up.

A Monday Morning Gift

I love Monday mornings! I have said this before and I realize not everyone shares that feeling. On Monday mornings from September to May I am in my office writing, if nothing else comes up to take me away. This morning will be my last writing day of March and I am reluctant to let March go even though warmer weather will be welcome. When I get back from Meg's I will have some writing days in April squeezed in with wedding preparation and celebration. I will also celebrate the launch of The Memory Chair. We will face the challenge that April presents as we come to the end of another year without Zac. We will celebrate Meg and Ashlie's birthdays. I am anxious to get to work this morning as yesterday's writing left me eager to keep going . This morning when I checked my e-mail there was an e-mail from the teacher that had invited me to Beaconsfield Middle School. She had attached comments from some of the Grade Eight students. What a wonderful gift on this cold and blustery day. I printed off the page and a half of their comments and I will carry their kind words with me when I go to Ottawa for my tour in May. If my presentations there elicit even a fraction of the thoughtful and empowering remarks they gifted to me I will be pleased. Their remarks will be the boost I need to get me through the busy and draining days of the tour. How could lines like these not lift anyone's spirit and keep them going? " Susan White was very straightforward and nice." Susan White was funny and I'm glad she is making another book." I really like the blend of fiction and real life events." "I loved to listen to her read." " Each chapter really connected to each other, each made you want to hop into the book."" Ten Thousand Truths was one of the deepest book I have ever read." "I enjoyed the fact that she didn't spoil her books while talking about them." " I am excited that there is going to be a sequel to Ten Thousand Truths." I am excited about that too. So on this Monday morning I am going to get back to Rachel, Amelia, Jodie , Zac and Raymond and find out as I write, what the next part of their story will be.

Back to Beaconsfield

Yesterday, I spent the day at Beaconsfield Middle School. I had not been there since the last day of my Grade Six year in 1968.I don't remember a lot about being there in Grade six. The inside of the building didn't look familiar to me at all. Outside, the playground and the surrounding streets leading down to the water brought back memories. I remember the smell of the pulp mill that we smelled daily as we thronged onto the playground each morning waiting to enter the building. I remember too how much I did not want to be there. I had left all my friends , my school and the house I loved in Fredericton. I felt like I was in exile on the west side of Saint John. I do remember though that it was there in the back porch of a downstairs flat on City Line that the deep desire to be a teacher presented itself. Possibly the desire to be a mother and a writer was forming there as well. Yesterday, a girl asked me if I thought a would be a writer if Zac had not died. What a heavy 'what if' question. Life is so loaded with that question. What if we hadn't moved to the west side ?, what if we hadn't moved to the Kingston Peninsula ?, what if ?, what if ?, what if? I tried my best to answer that question, a question that I so often ask myself. When I hold 'The Year Mrs Montague Cried' and feel such gratitude for where the success of that book has taken me I can not help but feel the deep sorrow of the very existence of it. How can we ever trace all the what ifs of our lives? The 'it is what it is' of our lives is really the best we can do. So my 'it is what it is' took me back to Beaconsfield School yesterday. I spent a full day talking , reading, responding and answering questions from a great bunch of eager kids. Lily, the most enthusiastic and vocal student of the day was beside herself when her mom came and bought her all four of my books. Her EA has been reading Ten Thousand Truths to her and as I talked she vocalized her excitement . I read the class the last two chapters and she hung off every word. That was so much fun for me. Thank you Lily! Thank you to all the students , teachers, EA's and especially to Mrs. McFadden for inviting me and introducing Beaconsfield Middle School to a writer who used to walk their halls.

What we Teach Each Other and What we Teach Ourselves

I had to push myself out the door today. I thought perhaps I wasn't feeling up to snowshoeing but luckily I listened to the part of myself that knew it was exactly what I needed to do. Once I got going I explored many previously unexplored clearings. I know they will not be as accessible for much longer. I even made my way into the large fenced in pig yard that for most seasons of the year is too muddy and wet to walk through. The two big pigs seemed surprised but pleased to see me. They have a wonderful maze through the deep snow a ways around their feeding trough and shelter. They don't realize that they could step right out of their fenced in yard just about anywhere. My thoughts of the day came to a few of the things I have learned about writing from others and from myself. I will not list them but will mention a couple that found their way to the top of the list. Last night my friend Rosalyn and I drove to Sussex for Beth Powning's book launch. We talked about many things and we always seemed to find our way back to discussing writing. Rosalyn who has kids still at home ,a job, a lot of volunteer work and much more that pushes her writing time aside is constantly trying to come up with a plan that works for her. I told her of one of the tips I got from someone, 'Touch Your Work Daily'. Maybe just that little habit will connect her to the writing until the story she carries within gets completely written. Last night Beth Powning spoke of the beginning to what became the beautiful book A Measure of Light she was launching. The story of Mary Dyer sought her out. I have a manuscript that doesn't quite cut it yet and I think in some ways it is because it is lacking the powerful force of a story that needs to be told. Maybe it will take shape and maybe it won't but I do believe it can wait while the stories that push through take over and demand to be written. We teach each other so much when we listen and in the same way we have so much to teach ourselves when we stop the chatter and the self doubt and hear what we already know to be true.