Workshop student lands book contract

As soon as I heard the voice on the an­swer­ing ma­chine I knew some­thing big had happened. Then Yvonne’s words came singing down the line, “I got a pub­lish­er! I’m go­ing to be published!”

The equa­tion can be this simple: a good story + good writ­ing + ded­ic­a­tion = pub­lished book. The real­ity is: many people have a great idea for a book, some have the writ­ing skills but few have the ded­ic­a­tion to see the pro­ject through. But right from the start I thought Yvonne Maximchuk might have all three.

I met Yvonne last May when she took one of my writ­ing work­shops. She’d been work­ing on a mem­oir for five years. But she wasn’t sure if her story was good enough and she was hav­ing a hard time fin­ish­ing the manuscript.

After read­ing the first pages of Drawn to Sea I knew Yvonne had the mak­ings of a story that would en­gage and in­trigue read­ers. The plot re­volves around her de­cision to re­main in an isol­ated com­munity after a break up with her part­ner. The chal­lenges were huge. She had two chil­dren to sup­port and wondered if she could sell her paint­ings and pot­tery from her Simoom Sound location.

Then there were the day-to-day con­sid­er­a­tions such as get­ting fire­wood and trav­el­ling back and forth to a lar­ger com­munity to get gro­cer­ies, med­ic­al care and oth­er ne­ces­sit­ies of life. If she was go­ing to make it, Yvonne knew she had to do three things. Get a chain­saw, get a boat and learn how to op­er­ate them.

Drawn to Sea is funny and heart-warm­ing; totally can­did and very evoc­at­ive of place. Vici Johnstone, pub­lish­er of Caitlin Press, told Yvonne her writ­ing was lyr­ic­al, the story well-paced and that it was a pleas­ure to read a book where the writer craf­ted her story like a work of art.

Yvonne, at right, made ex­cel­lent use of her time at the writ­ing retreat.

 

And that’s a key part of Yvonne’s suc­cess. As a self-em­ployed paint­er and pot­ter, she knows what it means to be dis­cip­lined. If you don’t sit down and do the work, it doesn’t get done. And that can mean the dif­fer­ence between earn­ing a liv­ing or starving, com­plet­ing a book or not.

I’m very proud of Yvonne. And I was touched when she said, “You got me over the last hurdle. Your ad­vice on how to fin­ish a book was brilliant.”

I can’t wait to see the pub­lished ver­sion of Drawn to Sea, per­haps fea­tur­ing one of Yvonne’s paint­ings on the cov­er. To find out more about one of BC’s new­est au­thors vis­it www​.searosestu​dio​.net.

 

 

What’s your writing goal for 2012?

Where do you want to go and when do you want to get there?

Most people ask them­selves those ques­tions be­fore head­ing out on a trip. I also ask them when I’m writ­ing a book.

Completing a book re­quires a huge com­mit­ment of time and en­ergy. If I don’t have a map of where I’m go­ing and when I want to ar­rive, the pro­ject can stretch on into in­fin­ity. That’s scary.

So I set goals.

It took me a while to fig­ure out what a goal is. I want to write a book and have it pub­lished is not a goal, that’s a dream.

A real goal goes some­thing like this: I want to com­plete a 60,000 word ma­nu­script by August 31, edit and re­vise it by December 31 and send it to a publisher/​agent by January 1. In or­der to ac­com­plish this I will work on my book for two hours every Saturday and Sunday.

Now that’s scary too. But it also gives you a clear idea of what you need to do.

However, sit­ting down at the com­puter know­ing you in­tend to write 60,000 words is enough to give any­one writer’s block. So what I do is break the pro­ject down into smal­ler in­cre­ments, say so many words or chapters each month.

I try to be reas­on­able about what I can ac­com­plish, yet push my­self a bit too. Every month or so, I re­view what I’ve done. To be per­fectly hon­est, I nev­er meet my self-im­posed dead­lines. But they keep me on track and mo­tiv­ate me to try harder.

Most folks lead busy lives and fre­quently have to give some­thing up in or­der to cre­ate writ­ing time and achieve their goals. That might in­volve set­ting the alarm an hour earli­er each morn­ing, hav­ing a writ­ing lunch break or draft­ing your ma­nu­script in the laun­dro­mat while wait­ing for your clothes to spin dry.  Many writers – in­clud­ing me – don’t watch tele­vi­sion and lim­it their email and so­cial me­dia time.

But simply hav­ing a goal isn’t al­ways enough. To be really ef­fect­ive ex­perts say you should write your goal down, make a com­mit­ment by telling it to someone and to also be ac­count­able to someone.

It’s early January, the time of year when many people make res­ol­u­tions and set goals. Have you giv­en any thought to where you want to be in your writ­ing jour­ney by the end of the year?

 

 

Technical troubles? Find a teenager.

It wasn’t work­ing. Rick gamely pushed but­tons and I began a ser­i­ous read of the  in­struc­tion manu­al. Still no suc­cess. Behind us I could hear the audi­ence shift­ing restlessly.

We were at the Port Hardy Museum where Rick was sched­uled to present an il­lus­trated talk on his new book, West Coast Wrecks & Other Maritime Tales. The laptop was on and con­nec­ted to the pro­ject­or which was also on. The screen was up but the only thing show­ing on it was Searching for in­put… 

After a few minutes Rick said, “I think we need a young per­son,” and left the mu­seum. I told the audi­ence we were hav­ing tech­nic­al prob­lems and to bear with us. I re­turned to page 12 of the manu­al and wondered how long I’d be stuck at the front of the room on my own.

But in only a few minutes Rick came back with a tall teen­age boy. Josh clicked a few keys, wiggled a few cords and with­in 20 seconds the show was up and run­ning. Turns out we’d plugged one of the cords into the wrong hole.

Okay, I ad­mit Rick and I are of a cer­tain age and didn’t grow up in the di­git­al gen­er­a­tion. But hey, the col­ours on the end of the cord and the hole matched and it fit!

Rick launched into the story of the wreck of the Geo. S. Wright. Then someone vis­ited the ladies wash­room and happened to turn on the light at the ex­act same mo­ment a mu­seum vo­lun­teer plugged in the kettle. The mu­seum was plunged into darkness.

After flip­ping nu­mer­ous switches in the break­er box power was re­stored. But the Power Point show wouldn’t come up. I dashed back to Café Guido where Josh’s boss was kind enough to let him dis­ap­pear again.

As we crossed the street to­wards the mu­seum I asked the teen if he liked books. “I love them,” he replied.

Back at the mu­seum Josh did his slight-of-hand tech­ie ma­gic and a beau­ti­ful rendi­tion of the Geo. S. Wright ap­peared on the screen. The audi­ence cheered and I handed Josh a copy of West Coast Wrecks.

Is he the au­thor? Josh asked look­ing at Rick with a big smile. “Yes,” I said. “And he’ll come over to the café to sign the book when he fin­ishes his present­a­tion.” There was an even big­ger smile this time.

I learned three things from this experience.

#1. Always make sure you have the plug hooked up to the right thingiemejob.

#2. Even in this di­git­al age young people still like real books.

#3. And, per­haps most im­port­ant of all, if you’re ever hav­ing tech­nic­al troubles, find a teenager.