The January Poet

The January Poet

I have barely moved all day.

Island House by Baye Hunter
www.bayehunter.com

This is January.

Full, replete, burrowed, dark.

I have sprouted a light down,

and a long snout to warm under my

new tail.

I find comfort in words like “root cellar”

and “tuber”

and blink when the sun startles the living room.

It is still and warm and could use

a few more leaves around the place.

Only short words will come to me,

as I move sluggish,

stripping the bark from mid-winter trees.

Strobing the few lights in the chemicals

that are left to me:

a low grade imagination and burgeoning hips.

I wait in the snow for angry neighbours to chase me

with brooms.

Scat, you!

But no-one notices my grubby boots
and January coat.

She’s just another writer come out of the dark woods
back into the house,

with empty pockets for words.

PD/Jan. 3/2012

My Best Piece of Kidlit Writing Advice is ...

Oculum, DCB, Sept/2018

Today, I'm really honoured to be the Guest Blogger on the Kick-Butt Kidlit writing blog! They've got a "Spotlight on Canadians" this month. Go check it out, and you could win a copy of my middle-grade dystopia: OCULUM.

Kick-Butt Kidlit asked great questions like:

What's the Most Canadian Thing you've ever put into a book?  (Chi-Cheemaun Ferry)

What would you like to see more of in Canadian kid lit? (More review sites.)

What's your best piece of KICK-BUTT Kidlit writing advice? Just Keep ...

He-He. For the rest of that last one, go see the full interview here: Kick-Butt KidLit, Philippa Dowding 

And don't forget to enter to win a copy of OCULUM! Lots of great authors and prizes on the site, go now ... enjoy ... read Canadian! And remember, if you love a book, review it on social media somewhere. Your favourite author will thank you.

A book is a sneeze and other literary truths

When I was seven, I read my first book to myself without anyone's help. As soon as I closed the cover, the full power of the written word landed in my lap. I knew then and there that the only thing I'd ever want to do with my life is tell stories, preferably like that one. I loved the main characters with all my seven-year-old heart, and I sobbed at the loss of one of them.

That book was Charlotte's Web.

First published in 1952, it was named the best-selling children's book of all time in 2000 by Publisher's Weekly, at that time having sold 48 million copies in 23 languages.

But for me, it's a single story that launched my love of books and my career as a writer. I'm sure I'm only one of countless people who were inspired to write because of E.B. White's classic book.

And E.B. White is still inspiring me. Now at mid-career as a children's author myself, I've been realizing that creativity and literary drive are very unruly things, sometimes tenuous and crafty and at other times overbearing and belligerent. I've discovered that it takes a steady hand to manage ones literary output, sort of like being a loving parent to a head-strong child.

Or, as E.B. White said in his characteristically beautiful 1952 letter to his editor, "I haven't told you why I wrote the book, but then I haven't told you why I sneeze, either. A book is a sneeze." Well said, thank you E.B.

I'm going to go and do what comes naturally.

Achoo!

Here's a link to the letter I wrote to my own publisher about my upcoming YA novel, The Strange Gift of Gwendolyn Golden.

Pickering Loves Gargoyles (and flame-broiled ants)!

Kids love gargoyles. They relate, I think, to the weirdness and otherness of the odd, mythical creatures. Children need some off-beat allies, perhaps, in the books they read. I know I did (what could be weirder than a hobbit?)
Earlier this month I was invited to do an author event at Pickering Library -- what a blast! I read from the Lost Gargoyle trilogy, the kids walked, talked and pirouetted like gargoyles. My publisher, Dundurn Press, ran a draw to win the Lost Gargoyle trilogy, price of admission one gargoyle drawing, and we got 36 entries.
The winning entry is pictured here.
An aardvark gargoyle, eating flame-broiled ants.
How refreshingly weird!
To see the rest of the entries, click here:
Pickering Library Gargoyles
Thanks again to the great staff at Pickering Library, and to all the kids who entered. These gargoyles rock!

A podcast about gargoyles, writing, and Toronto

I had a new experience last week: recording a 30-minute podcast interview with my friend and fellow Toronto-based writer Paul Dore. The Open Kwong Dore Podcast is a new venture for him and his friend CBC interviewer PJ Kwong, and so far they've interviewed skater Kurt Browning, Olympic hurdler Perdita Felicien, ex-Leafs manager Gord Stellick and others. It's an eclectic and interesting mix!

I really wasn't sure what to expect when Paul arrived armed with coffee from The Commons and a portable microphone, which he set up at the dining room table. But we've talked many, many times, late into the night in our monthly writer's group, and the podcast turned out to be exactly like that: two friends talking about The Lost Gargoyle series, about Toronto-as-character, about the business and craft of writing, inspiration, story arc, how one becomes a writer. We talked for an hour, and it felt like we could have gone on much longer. Thanks for making it so easy, Paul!

Here is the link: Podcast Episode Seven: Philippa Dowding

Give a listen, and stay tuned for more interesting interviews.

Introducing ... The Strange Gift of Gwendolyn Golden

So happy and excited to introduce my next book,
The Strange Gift of Gwendolyn Golden, coming from Dundurn Press in January, 2014. 

It's a coming of age story with a 14-year-old heroine from small town Ontario, who lives with her mother and younger twin brother and sister. She has a terrible temper, a dry wit, hates to read, plus she's going through puberty. And, on top of all that ...

" 'This morning, I woke up on the ceiling.'

So begins the strange story of Gwendolyn Golden. One perfectly ordinary day and for no explicable reason, she wakes up floating around her room like one of her little brother’s Batman balloons. 

Puberty is weird enough. Everyone already thinks she’s an oddball with anger issues because her father vanished in a mysterious storm one night when she was six. Then there are the false rumours about her being a drug addict. On top of all that, now she’s a flying freak.

How can she tell her best friend, or her mother? How can she live her life? After Gwendolyn almost dies one night flying too high and too fast, help arrives from the most unexpected place. And stranger still? She’s not alone."

Read more about The Strange Gift of Gwendolyn Golden at my publisher's page here. You can
pre-order your copy at Amazon now, too.

The January of funerals and flamenco

What an intense month. Two very close friends lost their mothers this week, and another close friend lost her mother on Christmas Day. All three were strong, interesting, and intelligent women.

In the past two weeks I've been to funerals, and mourned with my lifelong friends. I've also spent a night watching the top flamenco troup from Spain (Soledad Barrio and Noche Flamenca), dance, sing and clap their hearts out in a great affirmation.  The hypnotic, ecstatic dances expressed love, loss, joy, death, the song of life.

Funerals and flamenco, about as far apart on the human emotional diversity scale as you can possibly get, and yet equally intense. Needless to say, I'm a bit drained.

January is a difficult time of year here in Canada, at the best of times. I read somewhere once that the third Monday in January  is considered the worst day of the year in the western world, because it is the exact middle of the winter, and it's the day credit card statements arrive in the mail with all those excesses from the holidays. I've also read that the happiest people aren't necessarily the richest, but instead are those who have fulfilling work, a close network of friends and family, and who have a creative outlet to express themselves.

My creative life has definitely been a great source of happiness. There has never been a time when I didn't want to write, even when there might have been brief moments that I didn't enjoy my family life or my other career as a copywriter.

So, in keeping with the memory of three lovely women and the ecstasy of flamenco, I say affirm yourself! Throw paint at the wall! Let words drip through your fingers! Dance, stretch, play, sing, cook a favourite recipe, read a great book or write one. Clap and stomp your way through life, swirl your skirt, clasp your lapels, pull up a chair and dance with friends.

This January has made me think it's time for a change. Flamenco lessons, anyone?

(Rare) love poem, #2

Some time in the middle of January 1983, I met my husband. We were university students, we did the dishes together one night and here we are, thirty years on.

How, I still wonder, did that happen? And so, a poem:

Constance

 

With the heat furling
off my hot-watered hands,
you come in
breathing snow,
and change the quality
of the light.

It is winter, overnight.

For decades holding
the towel,
as my wifely foot
breaches the mat,
this tender, domestic act.

Burrowed like
misguided squirrels in our eaves,
we’ve led a family life
with ease,

fulfilled, in such quiet lives as these.

It’s a different kind of surrender,
to love that avails
from May to December,

such constance, like seasons,
must change, yet remembers.


PD/2013

8 reasons why I love being a writer ...

Plenty of writers work all summer. I’m not one of them. 

Married to a teacher, with two teens and a young dog, my house is never quiet in the summer. 

See #5

We are riotous, busy, loud, which is great, but it's no place for lengthy, distraction-free writing time. Oh, I do write, but output is nothing like during the winter months.
So every year at about this time, I start to miss all the projects I've put aside for a few weeks. I start itching to roll up my sleeves and get at it. Perhaps this hiatus is just what refuels me, every fall.
I’ve also had enough time away to stand back and really look at what it is I do.  I’ve had a great career as a copywriter, a poet, and now a children’s author.
So here, in no particular order, are 8 reasons why I love being a writer:

1. Words are clean and tidy. Until they get messy, but it’s never a mess that requires a garbage bag and a pair of work boots to fix. Unless something has gone terribly wrong, of course!
2.  The story is always waiting. No matter how you leave it, your story is always waiting for you, patiently, to get back to it. You're rewarded in a way that you aren't by say, doing the laundry or feeding the dog.
3. People value books.  Years ago on the way to work one morning, I saw a guy reading Macleans magazine on the subway. A piece of paper fluttered out of the magazine: a subscription flyer I’d worked on for weeks! I was a little chuffed … until the guy got up and stepped on it (tough lesson, best learned early if you’re a copywriter). Copy is valuable and has a job to do, sure, but a book? I’ve never seen anyone step on a book.
4. Getting lost. Writers will get this: you really can lose yourself in the story. I’ve looked up from my screen to find that it’s 4:00 in the afternoon, and I’ve been writing for 6 hours straight. Perhaps everyone can be so engrossed when they like their job, but I’ve never found anything that takes me so far from my couch without having to move anything but my fingers, with the possible exception of reading a great book.
5. A book, what a marvel. Lots of people toil at things they love, of course. People are no doubt proud of a wonderful spreadsheet or a well-painted house, but for me, seeing all my work finally compose itself into a printed, bound book is something that still delights me. It always will.
6. Acclaim? For me? I have to admit, being nominated for awards is a rush. Let me state that there are lots of great books out there by very talented writers who have never been nominated for anything, and it doesn’t stop them from continuing to write great books which people enjoy. And really, if I’m never nominated for anything ever again, that’s fine. But getting nominated, receiving just a tiny bit of acclaim … always a lovely surprise.
7. The people are interesting, too. Editors, promotion people, sales people, booksellers, librarians, other writers, everyone stays in this industry because they love books and storytelling. Is there another industry in which so many smart people do so much, for let's face it, so little?
8. Nothing like pyjamas. Oh, if you’re a writer you know. If you’re not a writer or someone who works from home, you’ve likely heard this and winced. But it’s true: there’s nothing like working in your pyjamas. And going to mid-day yoga class. And walking the dog whenever you feel like it. Or making tea when you need it. Yes, writing is risky, so that’s the price we pay. Not knowing if the work will be good, enjoyed, published or read by anyone at all. Not knowing if we’ll make money at something we’ve worked at, hard, for months, years. But, putting all that aside, I’ll say it again: working in your pyjamas rocks.

Those are 8 top reasons. What are yours??

PD

Top 10 memorable moments, Festival of Trees 2012

Aryan's lovely painting, delivered by hand

Awesome fan-made pin handed to me by
security guard as I left the stage

Ahh. My fifteen minutes are over. The Festival of Trees 2012 (May 16-17) was a fantastic experience for me. Thank you once again, Ontario Library Association, I loved every minute. Here are my top 10 favourite moments from the two days in which I was a Silver Birch Express rock star, in chronological order:
1. The Party Before the Storm: meeting Natalie Hyde, Rebecca Upjohn, Ian Wallace, Cary Fagan, Susan Hughes,
Jan Andrews, Jill Maclean, Patrick Bowman, Monica Kulling, Alan Silberberg,
Anna Kerz, Don Gillmor and anyone else I've missed, the night before the Festival begins. Camaraderie ensues.
2. The First Surprise: having a FULL house at my presentation at Harbourfront on the morning of May 16. We were told we could have anywhere between 10-80 attendees, so to prepare for anything. I was signing books, because we had about 6 kids, then looked up and two busloads of excited children walked in. Eventually we had @160 kids, standing room only. Glorious!
3. The Second Surprise: getting whisked off to my autograph signing at 11:15 and finding a line up so long that I couldn't see the table. I signed books and Festival pamphlets for an hour, it was so much fun to meet so many kids. We had to turn kids away when my time ran out, but I think (hope) most of them found me later.

A special moment with a fan

4. Aryan's painting. During my autograph session, a boy named Aryan brought me his lovely painting (top) of a gargoyle in the trees. We were both so overcome, I could only say thank you Aryan, it's beautiful. It really is.
5. The Main Event: walking on stage at Harbourfront is an experience that everyone should enjoy once in life, as a writer or not. It's just phenomenal to be greeted by almost 2,000 cheering children. I will never forget it. I threw up my arms in surprise and delight. Thank you Emmett Upjohn for my favourite photo of the entire two days: the slightly crazed rock star moment, below.

Arms thrown wide in surprise and delight,
walking onstage at Harbourfront
Photo courtesy Emmett Upjohn

6. A Moment with Ian Wallace: As the little girl introducing me was finishing (thank you Paige) and it was my turn to speak, Ian Wallace, the illustrator for Gordon Lightfoot's book, leaned over and whispered encouragement in his deep baritone. I felt so elated, I just wish I could remember exactly what he said!
7. Speaking Gargoyle to the Crowd: my gargoyle puppet said a few words on stage in Gargoyle. He insisted. I'm glad he did.
8. The Pin: as we were all leaving the stage, a security guard rushed up to me and handed me a pin that a fan made: I HEART the Gargoyle Overhead by Philippa Dowding. Sweet! I wore it everywhere the rest of the day and in Ottawa.
9. The Flight to Ottawa, May 17: I'm not much on flying. But I agreed to go to Ottawa for the inaugural Festival of Trees Tour. I'm so glad I did! I will never forget bumping into Natalie Hyde and Anna Kerz at the ferry terminal at 6:30 a.m., then laughing all the way through the flight. We laughed and supported each other all day too. Meeting the other authors and making friends, was a huge part of the experience for me. Which leads me to my final point...

Gargoth sitting quietly on my lap
at Harbourfront
Photo courtesy Emmett Upjohn

10. Meeting Susin Nielsen. You know how no matter how good you get at something, there is always someone who is better at it than you? I sat beside Susin Neilsen (Word Nerd and Dear George Clooney, please marry my mom) at the Ottawa celebration, and felt so honoured to be on stage with her. I told her that Word Nerd made me cry. At the lovely reception later at Ottawa City hall, we discovered that we both like strange statues.

So there they are, my top 10 moments from the Festival of Trees, an honour and a privilege I will never forget.

There are a few other favourite moments too, like the boy who spoke gargoyle to me in Ottawa and the boy with the severe speech impediment in Toronto who told me how much he loved my book.

I also got a great question that no one has ever asked before at my presentation in Toronto: if you could be any magical creature, what would it be? (a gargoyle first, then a unicorn) And I will never forget the young girl in Ottawa who did a phenomenal 4-turn pirouette! I reassured her that it looked NOTHING like a gargoyle doing a pirouette. Listening to Simon Awa (Uumajut) speak Iqualuit to the hushed crowd in Ottawa was also a very cool moment, since I've never heard the language spoken live before.

But really, everyone I met over the two days made a huge impression on me, the children, the authors and the hardworking, dedicated OLA staff and volunteers. My heartfelt thanks to everyone for making the experience so special.

PD/May 29/2012

Congrats to the Willow Award Winners 2011!

And the SYRCA Willow Award winners for 2011 are ... 

... Kenneth Oppel, L.M. Falcone and Susin Nielsen. Congratulations to all!

It was an honour to be nominated alongside you. Enjoy!

PD

Top 12 things my writer's group has taught me...



Me at this year's writer's retreat


 

My writer's group meets once a month in a downtown pub. We're an eclectic bunch, all ages (20s to 70s). There are a few movie types (marketing and post-production), journalists and magazine people, a few professors, a fire code expert, a Russian architect/poet, and me.


The group is six years old now, and each year in the fall we have a celebration. So in the spirit of celebrating that fact, here are the top 12 things that I’ve learned about being part of a writer’s group:

1. Read your work to the group. It makes you a better writer. It’s hard at first, everyone seems to hate doing it. But it’s essential: find your voice, share it, own it. It's magic.

2. Do writing exercises together. Your group will entertain the public ('why are all those people at that table so quiet, and writing so feverishly?'). But I always learn something new about my writing style. Always.

3. Show up. As often as you can or, at least when you say you are going to.

4. Bring new work now and then. It doesn’t have to be great writing, it doesn’t even have to be really good writing, but it does have to exist.

5. Not all writing is good. Not even your own. People experiment, sometimes with less-than-stellar results. You are part of a group, you need to be honest, but fair. Still, no one likes a churlish harridan. Memorize a few non-commital yet constructive responses, you’ll keep your friends.

6. No one can write well in a vacuum. Even when you aren’t feeling like a joiner (and since writers are such solitary creatures, this is most of us), a group of writers can pull you back up.

7. Support your natural leader. Celebrate him/her; pick up the slack once in a while.

8. Ambiance matters. Pick your meeting place carefully. I once belonged to a writer’s group who met on Sunday mornings at a noisy restaurant over breakfast. I now belong to a group who meet at a dark, dingy, delightful pub in the evening for beer beside a fireplace (outdoor patio on summer evenings). Easy choice.

9. Do a membership drive, now and then. A balance of guys/girls is nice, too.

10. You may sometimes influence each other's writing. Accept this. Discuss it.

11. Shut up and listen.  You can’t do all the talking. No one can. No one should.

12. Celebrate your successes. Support each other at book readings and launches. Support members who finish a manuscript, a poem, a thought. Clap loudly the first time your quietest, newest member reads a poem to you.

Congratulations guys! Here’s to another six years together.

PD