Lori Weber's Blog, page 2

The Four Corners - Day 1 & 2

The Four Corners Days 1 - 3

We left Sunday for the first of our longer road trips to what is called The Four Corners, the area where Utah, Arizona, New Mexico and Colorado all meet. The area is an archaeologist’s dream, with so many historic sites that have been, and continue to be, excavated. The geology of the area is also fascinating, dominated entirely by the Colorado Plateau.

We began the journey with a drive to Durango, Colorado, mostly along highway 64 west (NM), which is a stunning drive. The terrain is ever-changing, from forested ranch land, to canyons to mesas. The space is vast and somewhat desolate. We passed maybe 10 cars in 250 miles. You drive and drive and see no signs of civilization and you begin to feel that you have entered another world, one that reaches way into a past and has no connection to the modern, high-tech world. The adobe structures that we had become accustomed to in the Taos/Santa Fe area were suddenly gone as this area is less influenced by Mexican, Hispanic cultures.

We drove into Apache Land, and had a picnic lunch in the Jicarilla Apache Nation, outside their casino in a roadside park. Plaques there informed us that the native people in this area came south from western Canada. After lunch, we drove north from Bloomfield to the Aztec National Monument (www.nps.gov/azru), the ruins of a native community from 800 to 1000 years ago, first uncovered in 1859. Basically, it is the stone walls of the Great Kiva and its surrounding rooms, many of which are accessed through tiny doorways, that remain and which have been somewhat reconstructed.

Durango is a neat mountain town in southern Colorado which, like Taos, has a real hippie and western-vibe. Regretfully, we will not be here for the Durango Cowboy Poetry Gathering that begins October 4th. The special guest is Ian Tyson, a Canadian “legend.” We rode the Durango-Silverton narrow-gauge railway, (www.durangotrain.com) which runs on a 36 inch wide track, through the San Juan mountains, which I suppose are the foothills of the Rockies. It was really neat. At some points, the tiny train seems to literally be hanging over a precipice that tumbles down through massive rocks to rapids in the San Juan River. I chatted with a father and son from Texas who had no idea about Canada. The father admitted as much, saying I didn’t need to bother telling him where I was from as he knew nothing about “up there.” The son asked if I did ice sculptures, or if I did dog-sledding. Oh my god! Really? They were sweet though. They had heard of the Montreal Expos, but didn’t seem to realize that the team had been sold to Washington at least a decade ago. Finally, I had a hard time convincing them that I had never been to Alaska. At one point, the train passes through narrow canyons where key scenes of the film Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid were filmed. The bridge that one of them jumped off of, only to land in a river in California, is still standing.

One of my highlights was watching an Italian couple who reminded me of us when we were in Italy earlier this year. When you’re in a strange country you are somewhat shy and reserved. Well, here in Colorado, as elsewhere in North America, people respond to trains in an almost visceral way. Everyone waves. It is like the sight of that old steam train just cheers people up. So people inside the train wave back. It was fun watching the Italian man make his first wave. When we were in Italy people were so official and serious. I can’t imagine anyone waving at trains. I simply cannot! When the woman saw that her man was starting to wave, she tentatively joined in. By the end of the ride, they were the biggest wavers. It was like they had been set free. They waved and waved, at hobos on a bridge, hikers, everyone, even a deer. It reminded me of when I was a kid, playing at Piggery Park, and we would wave at the trains chugging past until our arms were sore.

Americans are very fun-loving and friendly people; there is no doubt about that. People open up and engage you in conversation in a way that never happens in Europe and happens only occasionally in Canada. The conductor on the train kept weaving jokes into all his announcements. It takes some getting used to and I can never decide if I like it or not. I think, on the whole, I do because there is a warmth to it and you can take it or leave it if you choose. I guess I prefer it to what we experienced in Europe, where there is little communication amongst strangers and the tone was always super serious. I really feel Canadians fall somewhere between the two.

Off to Mesa Verde tomorrow.

(I am posting lots of pictures of the trip on Facebook. I tried putting a link from here to there but it didn’t work. I hope you can find them on FB if you are interested.)

More New Mexican Adventures

We have had friends here from Boston (Tamar & Steve) for the past week so I have not had time to write, but we have seen some wonderful things. After picking up our friends in Santa Fe, we went out to the Bandelier monument (www.wnpa.org), which is about 45 minutes north of Santa Fe. Here, we visited the ancient ruins of Pueblo People who lived in caves in the rocks 10,000 years ago. You could actually climb on wooden ladders and enter the caves. It truly is difficult to imagine the way of life so long ago, before farming, before the wheel, before anything but animal skins and stone tools. From a distance, the entire monument looks like those sponge toffee bars I used to love as a kid, even a similar caramel colour. A very cool place!

Tamar and I pampered ourselves in the healing waters of the Ojo Caliente mineral springs in Ojo Caliente, about 50 minutes from Taos. There is an arsenic spring, soda spring, iron spring, and lithia spring, as well as a whole host of masseuses etc. to make one feel extremely pampered. It is NOT the sort of thing I would normally do, but I have to say it was quite a luxurious day. In some ways, the best part of the day was the drive there, which is spectacular, as you pass through terrain that is quite beautiful, including the Rio Grande Gorge and part of Carson National Forest.

If I did not mention in a previous post what a hurdle it was for me to cross the Rio Grande Bridge, with my insane fear of heights, then, IT WAS. I begged Ron to stop and let me jump into the back seat, but he refused to indulge me. In the end, it was not so bad, as you don’t realize the height from the car unless you really crane your neck. I did not, however, walk across it with the rest of them. I stayed on the far side and enjoyed the view of the gorge from there, which is pretty enough – so deep, with hues of purple and blue.

We visited the Earthships mentioned in the previous post, but still have not visited them inside: our guests were not keen, so we will go back. It was something to watch the group of young people working on a new one, making walls of tires and bottles. Apparently, the annual utility bill comes to $100 – not bad. They were unusual and from one side look like mounds of dirt and grass. I guess that is the idea. The windows all face the sun and since they are located out in the middle of the desert they get lots of it. We also drove what is called around here The Enchanted Circle, which is literally a circle northeast of Taos (highways 522, 38, 64). For me, the most impressive part was the Wild Rivers Recreation Area, which is a 13-mile loop/byway, which offers incredible views of the Rio Grande gorge. Red River is sort of a faux-alpine village that seems totally out of place and very artificial. We did, however, have some great pie and cake there.

Back in Santa Fe again, Tamar and I explored Canyon Road, which is famous for its many art galleries. I read that one in every six people in SF is associated with the arts and it is not hard to believe. There are more than 300 galleries to explore, 100 of which are on the charmingly narrow and colourful Canyon Road. We strolled along it for much of an afternoon and took in about 15 shows, give or take. What I love is how MOST of the owners (except one real snoot at Bellas Artes) are super friendly and take the time to engage you in conversation even if it is pretty clear that you are probably not going to buy a piece of art (although not for lack of desire). That is totally the opposite of how I always feeling stepping into art galleries in the east, like in the Chelsea area of Manhattan. We really did see some amazing pieces. A few of my favourites were Blair Vaughn-Gruler, David Barbero, Christina Chalmers, Gigi Mills and Sandra Pratt. I was sure the latter might be connected to the famous Newfoundland Pratts because of her east coast paintings, but alas I was wrong. We also visited the Museum of International Folk Art, which was great, especially if you like folk art, which I do. (www.internationalfolkart.org ).

The visit was topped off by a trip to Abiquiu, where Georgie O’Keefe had her “winter “ home and a bit further up the 84 to Ghost Ranch, which is where she painted in the summer (www.ghostranch.org ). It is not hard to see where she took her inspiration from. The landscape is simply exquisite in that area, with geological formations of every kind (chimney rocks, mesas, mountains) in soft muted yellows, reds, and purples. I have always loved O’Keefe’s work and it was my interest in her that first sparked my interest in New Mexico. I have to say though that the marketing of her as a personality, with gift shops in Abiquiu selling repros of her work in every conceivable form, was rather off-putting. It ALMOST detracts from the incredible work she left behind, but not quite. Her paintings still move me, as did the landscape. I suppose one must learn to simply block out the more crass aspects of dead-famous person tourism (like Kafka in Prague and Mozart in Vienna).

Other observations: people in the southwest are so friendly. There is a real spirit of openness and communion amongst people, on the streets, in the stores and cafes. Coming from a not so friendly big city, I really notice it and I love it. People take their time with you and really make you feel like you matter and I don’t think it is faked or forced in that “Hi, my name is Wanda and I’m here to serve you” kind of way. It really is a slower more take-your-time culture, which is suiting us just fine.

Best country lyrics heard in the last two days, and I paraphrase (poorly I’m sure):

“You got the vest and I got the gun/Let’s get together and have some fun”

“She may be the devil’s daughter/But she fills me up like cool fresh water”

Bye for now: Please view my pix at:

More Taos Adventures

This weekend we spent the night in Santa Fe, which is a really interesting and historic town that has, like much of this area, been influenced by both Spanish/Mexican and native cultures. We were there for Fiesta; in fact, we got boxed in by Fiesta. Being dumb tourists, we did not realize that we were parking our car right smack in the middle of the parade route. Therefore, we couldn’t leave the city until the endless parade of floats went by. I have to admit, I am not much of a parade gal, but it was kind of interesting. My favourite thing was watching the excitement of the little kids eating ears of roasted corn on big sticks and hoola-hooping around the plaza. The girls were dressed in beautiful colourful Mexican dresses, like miniature flamenco dancers. Santa Fe definitely has a very ritzy feel as well, with all the galleries and high end jewerly and clothing stores. We didn’t dare step inside but window-shopped instead. Or at least I did. Ron, as you know, is fairly oblivious.

This morning we finally went out to Taos Pueblo; it is amazing. The men were up on the roofs of the adobe homes repairing the summer cracks, readying the walls for winter. I couldn’t help but think how much the structures resemble Habitat 67 in Montreal (or perhaps vise versa). I wonder if Moshe Safdie visited the Taos Pueblo for inspiration?We bought bread and pie cooked by wood fire in the outdoor adobe ovens, which have a name that I have forgotten. Yummy! And I caved and bought a necklace from one of the many gifted vendors.

Finally, we drove over the Rio Grande Bridge and walked around the Rio Grande State Park. That was a real hurdle for me, with my natural fear of heights and vertigo. You’ll have to take my word that I was a nut-case the whole way west on Hwy 64 leading up to the bridge. It is incredibly high, but the scenery is simply hard to describe. It’s one of those words fail me moments (always embarrassing for a writer/teacher).

That’s it for now from the southwest.

(For pix see my facebook page)

New Mexico Adventure: First Impressions

I am sitting at my new desk looking out on a clay Buddha who sits at the foot of the arched courtyard of our Taos adobe home. A small yappy dog is barking madly and has been, it seems, for two days straight, but let me not focus on the negative. I have, quite frankly, never been anywhere that looks this different. The southwestern adobe architecture is so charming, with its soft pinkish brown clay, often adorned with red and turquoise markings, and round, almost bulbous, shapes. The Sangre de Cristo (Blood of Christ) mountains rise up on three sides of the town, massive towers of sharp rock that look, from here, to be completely free of vegetation. (Picture of Ron against mountains above.)

We are really just getting oriented thus far, buying what we need for the house, (I am ashamed to admit that we, who never set foot in Walmart at home, have been there twice for supplies already!), getting a US cell-phone, and settling in. This house is down a rather narrow funky street that looks more like a lane and people’s yards look like miniature museums they are so full of odd things, including a rather large missile, across the way (not particularly comforting). One thing that we are both adjusting to is the higher altitude and what that does to one’s breathing and heart rate. I constantly feel as though I’ve exercised rigorously, and my nose and throat are so dry, I am sure I am in for a whopping nose bleed any minute. Every now and then I have to stand outside and consciously suck in a huge breath of air and yet it never feels like enough.

We had expected to arrive in the thick of the American presidential election, but thus far there is almost no visible evidence of the November event, no posters, no banners, nothing. Not even overheard chit-chat. Quite strange. Maybe it will pick up as the date draws near? (Addendum: we did drive by the Democrat and Republican HQs earlier yesterday, but both looked rather quiet.) We also found out yesterday that the woman who used to be the house-cleaner for this house now cleans house for Donald Rumsfeld (we did NOT know he lived here) and Julia Roberts (we knew, but didn’t care). It’s probably the closest we’ll ever come to rubbing shoulders with such notoriety.

An aside observation is that things don’t seem any cheaper in the stores, which is not what we were expecting, especially for produce. Avocados for $1.99 each??? And we were shocked to discover the peppers we chopped up for dinner were imported from Canada. At home, ours come from Mexico. It is a wacky world. Our yard, however, is well-stocked with plums thank s to a large plum tree. More ripe plums are falling than we could possibly ever eat. This morning though, on the way to the library, we shopped for loads of wonderful local produce at the Saturday morning Farmer’s Market. Prices still high, but good stuff.

Tomorrow we will head out to Taos Pueblo, the oldest continuously inhabited community in the US (www.taospueblo.com )and to visit the Earthships (www.earthship.com). Our new kitchen table is literally littered with maps and brochures, two inches deep, and it seems impossible that we will be able to see everything, even though we have three months. I’ll try to update this poor neglected blog as we go! (Update: pouring rain today so we will delay these adventures until tomorrow.)

(A real aside: we are watching Season 5 of Mad Men. Can someone tell me why a French-Canadian woman, Don/Dick’s new wife, is named Meagan??? Clearly a lack of research there, or am I missing something?)

Teen Spirit 2012 Projects

On Friday, April 13th, my 75 students at John Abbott College presented creative projects on our class Museum Day. They each made an original art piece to complement the young adult novels we read this semester. The results were so inspirational, I have decided to post the pictures.

The books we read this semester were:

1) The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie

2) Feed by MT Anderson

3) Out of the Dust by Karen Hesse

4) 13 Reasons Why by Jay Asher

5) Nothing by Janne Teller

Students could do whatever they wanted; writing, painting, drawing, collage, photography, sculpture, as long as their piece of art illuminated something about one or more novels. I was blown away by their work and by their enthusiasm in sharing their work and explaining it to each other.

I love teaching this course. It reaffirms for me that young people do like to read, if they are given books that they can relate to and that make them think. YA is a great genre for getting young people into reading, for stoking the desire for books in kids who don’t naturally gravitate to books, or for continuing to develop that love of books in kids who have already caught the bug.

So … I invite you to look at all the young, eager faces proudly displaying their work.

Yellow Mini Visit to Marianopolis

On Thursday, April 12th, I took part in Marianopolis College’s Arts Fest and gave a talk to an enthusiastic group of students on my newest book, Yellow Mini. It was the first time I was able to talk about the book and project the pages onto a large screen at the same time, which was really helpful in talking about things like form and meter. I was able to point out the way the characters in the book all have a distinct form for their poems: long lines and dense, almost prosaic stanzas for Mark, which suits his muddled mind; short lines and long, thin stanzas for the shyer Christopher. For some of the poems, I payed lots of attention to rhythm and meter, so I was able to show this on screen and talk about the importance of counting syllables. I think the students liked what I read, judging by the fact that they lined up to buy copies after. I felt bad, but I ran out. I guess I under-estimated myself yet again. Ha ha. Thanks to my good friend and fellow YA author, Monique Polak, for inviting me. Above is a photograph of the two of us together.

Richmond High School, Quebec

The attentive and enthusiastic faces you see above are those of grade seven and ten students at Richmond High School, which is located in the Eastern Townships of Quebec. I was happy to spend a lovely day and a half in the Sherbrooke area. I sort of have roots there, as my father first worked as a farm hand in Cowansville when he immigrated to Quebec from Germany at the age of 21. If he had met my mom there, instead of in Montreal, I might have grown up in the townships as well. When I took a stroll at lunch on an unusually warm February day, I couldn't help notice the freshness of the air and the beauty of the area. The town seemed closeknit and very friendly. I think I could have handled growing up in that environment.

The grade seven and eight classes had read Yellow Mini so we did a writing exercise based on two poems from the book that give different takes on the same event: protesting inside the mall. ("On the Inside" by Annabelle and "Inside the Mall" by Christopher.) The students then wrote two poems about an event (cheating & bullying) from two very different points of view. They had to pay attention to their choice of words and to the shape and sounds of each poem, to give them a distinct voice. As you can see from the photos, they really poured themselves into the challenge, with great results.

The grade seven class had actually already written poems from one of the book's five main characters' perspective, adding their own plot twists. I found it interesting that several had envisioned Mark hitting Mary with the car, injuring her badly, because when I started writing Yellow Mini I thought this might happen as well!

The grade ten students had read Tattoo Heaven so their workshop centered on building character, using physical description, voice, setting and symbolism. At the end of the workshop, two lucky students (Amy and Gabriel) each won a copy of my other SideStreets books (Klepto and Split).

I love going to different high schools and feeling the energy and enthusiasm kids still have for new experiences and for learning. I could tell this is a wonderful school, with dedicated teachers and a lovely librarian, all working together to gets kids into books. Which they were! A young lad, Nicolas (without an "h" he stressed to me) almost missed his bus to run back and take Yellow Mini out of the library. A girl, whose name I missed, did the same for Split because she was dying to know if Sandra finds her mom. As if I would tell!

Thanks to everyone at Richmond High for the warm welcome and for loving to read!

Life After Launces and Hi Tech Woes

After a third launch for Yellow Mini out in Mississauga at the Playdium, I am settling back into life after launches. I have become a much more high tech person as a consequence of this latest launch because every time someone from Fitzhenry and Whiteside would take a picture they would smile and say we'll post it to our Facebook and you can see it there and I would smile back and feel like a total idiot by admitting that I did not have a Facebook account. There comes a time, I suppose, when every writer must succumb to the imperative to go high tech.

Apparently I should also be tweeting away from the rooftops, sending out tweets to lure in potentional readers in 140 characters or less. I admit I have a Twitter account but I just cannot figure out how to use it properly. Now, between my regular email, which seems so outdated, my poor already ignored blog and my new Facebook and Twitter, I feel like I might have to give up writing altogether and devote myself full-time to keep up the technology that everyone tells me I need in order to make book sales.

Do other writers out there feel like I do? Overwhelmed by this sense that we must suddenly become techno-wizards or perish?

I set up my Facebook page, but I am having a hard time grasping the concept of the wall. I learned pretty quickly, and somewhat shockingly, that what I put on my wall gets sent to everyone I am friends with and that there is nothing private about the wall. I am glad I didn't post anything too embarrassing before learning this. And as for Twitter, I suppose now I should try to get thousands of people to follow me in order to promote my work, but how can I do that if I am not tweeting and have no desire to tweet?

I don't know. My 82 year old father recently said that when he looks around at everyone plugged in and connected to various technological devices, sadly ignoring one another, he feels like he is in a completely foreign and alien world, one he just cannot understand. He also added that he was glad he was on his way out. I cannot say that I share his latter sentiment, but I do kind of wish all the high tech stuff that writers now feel so compelled (and in some cases bullied) to do would have waited another 20 years until I simply could have ignored it all.

Having said that though, I just sent a message to MT Anderson, a writer I so greatly admire, through Facebook, telling him how much my students loved his book Feed, which ironically is about the end of the world through dependence on technology and its inherent connection to consumerism. Without the technology I never could have done that, although I did tell him that somewhat in person at a conference in Boston years ago where he was one of the speakers and I got to ask him a question.

Now, did my comments land on his wall, or my wall, or all my "friend's" walls …. help. I just do not know.

Bye for now. Gotta check my email.

Yellow Mini Launches

This past week, I had two wonderful launches for my new verse novel, Yellow Mini. The first, on October 26th, was at the college where I teach: John Abbott College in Sainte-Anne-de-Bellevue, Quebec. Many teaching colleagues from the college, as well as support staff from different areas (The Learning Centre, Library, Student Services), dropped by to share a glass of wine and hear me read.

I cannot express stongly enough how lucky I feel to have so much support where I work. I know that it contributes in no small measure to my successes as a writer. Just to know that so many people share in my delight when a new book comes out, and that they are genuinely interested in my work, gives me the push to keep writing. I cannot imagine doing this if I were working somewhere where I felt nothing but resistance and indifference. How awful that would be!

So … thank you wonderful people at JAC!!!!!

(You can see the gathering in the last 3 pictures above)

The second, more public launch, was the following night, October 27th, at Livres Babar Books in Pointe-Claire Village. For those of you who do not know this store, I can honestly say that it is the best children's bookstore anywhere. It is so colourful and inviting and walking through the door it is impossible not to feel swept up into the wonderfully creative world of children's books. Thank you to Maya and her team at Babar for yet another lovely launch.

Being the centre of attention at a book launch (or any event, I suppose), is an odd experience for someone like me, in spite of the fact that I have been a teacher for 17 years. It is not a role that comes naturally and it is one that a large part of me is uncomfortable with and almost cannot believe. And yet, every time it happens, it is so special. The enthusiasm and genuine congratulations of friends, neighbours, and fellow writers just buoys me up and makes me … eegad!… almost enjoy the spotlight.

Thank you so much to all of you who came out on what turned out to be our coldest night of the season yet.

It has been good to test run (no vehicular pun intended) reading Yellow Mini out loud and, I have to say, I think it reads well. It is poetry after all, and because it is written in so many different voices, there is a natural dramatic element to the reading. I felt myself getting slightly choked up by some of my own images.

Publishing a new book is like being at the start of a journey, one with a vague itinerary. Who know where it will lead ….

(Pictures above show that my adorable 3 grandchildren were there: Isaac, Josh and Cassidy with their handsome father, Marc; also picturered with me are fellow children's authors Jane Barclay and Day's Lee, owner of Babar Maya Byers, and me with my main squeeze and support, Ron Curtis.)

Creative Writing for Children 2011

This semester, I had the privilege of teaching a group of 40 talented students in my Creative Writing for Children class at John Abbott College. These young adults displayed an incredible amount of hard work and commitment to creating picture books, and first chapters of both junior and young adult novels.

Yesterday, we had our end of year party and reading, to showcase some of the best of the stories. I say "some of" because, with more time, many more studens would have been asked to read. This was a first public reading for most of these students and they did so well. It's not easy to share your work out loud with the world. It can make you feel quite vulnerable, actually. But writing is meant to be shared and, as I told my students many times, a writer does need to develop thick skin (still working on that myself!).

I love teaching this course. I love giving young people the opportunity to tap into their creativity. Our school system forefronts the maths and sciences so much; many of these students had not done any creative writing since elementary school. LIke Picasso said, everyone is born an artist (of some sort). But if that artist is not nurtured … I would also argue that I do more toward teaching kids to write well through creative work than through academic essays. They really become aware of the importance of choosing words carefully, of nuance, of imagery and metaphor, and of pacing. And they learn that a manuscript has to be grammar and punctuation perfect in order for an editor to take it seriously.

Anyhow, I have no doubt that if some of these young people were to continue to write, their stories will one day be published. That's how good they were. Above are some pictures of the readers, and of me praising them and thanking them for a wonderful semester.