Penny Draper's Blog, page 6

Ode to Inventory

It’s March 31st.

For many in the book business, today is inventory day. Much anticipated, much dreaded, this annual snapshot of stock on hand tells an important story. And more importantly, the reports that follow become judge and jury on the viability of the business. Live or die, it all depends on inventory management. In the case of independent bookstores, this is not merely hyperbole.

But I am being a little overdramatic. After eight inventories at a big chain bookstore and eight more at an independent bookstore, I would have to say that I actually love doing inventory. It is inevitably a day full of treasures. First, I get to wear grubby clothes to work, a novelty in itself. There’s pizza for lunch, a small thing maybe, but the real treat here is that everybody gets to eat lunch together. When you work in the customer service industry, it’s the only day of the year that you get to eat with your colleagues, the only day that no one has to cover the floor because there are no customers.

No customers? That in itself lends an air of unreality to the day. Please don’t misunderstand, I love talking to people about books, but just imagine the feeling of being behind closed doors in a bookstore, to be allowed to put your finger on every single spine without interruption. It’s my childhood dream come true.

But the real treasures are the books themselves. I worked in large bookstores, so there was no way any one individual knew every single title in the store. It is beyond thrilling to count in a section other than your own (necessary in the same sense that a copyeditor is necessary, fresh eyes are required) and discover titles, authors, even whole genres hitherto unknown to you. The little pile of books that you intend to buy as soon as the cash registers are released from lockdown grows throughout the day. It’s like Christmas.

Mind you, it’s a filthy, difficult process. Clouds of book dust fill the air. Sneezing is inevitable, as are itchy eyes that will make you cry. (Although my publisher has just informed me that our books fly off the shelves so quickly that no dust accumulates.) But these are fleeting discomforts.

It does occur to me that we would do well to inventory other aspects of our lives on March 31st, a personal spring cleaning. Count what you have, but don’t stop there. A successful inventory actually counts what you had, but have no longer; the things that left their mark as they passed through your life, not the number of things still in it.

And for everyone counting today at Coteau Books, the University of Victoria Bookstore, and stores across the country, I raise a glass. Thanks for looking after all our books!

 

A Tale of Two Teachers

As a new blogger, the process of putting my work into the public domain feels daunting at the moment. So I’m busy reading (lurking about, spying on?) a lot of other blogs. How do others develop their online persona? I’m trying to choose my teachers carefully, not that there isn’t something to be learned from everyone, of course, but some teachings resonate with me better than others. But I must be a belligerent sort of learner, because I tend to fight the lessons. I don’t know why, but I always do. Case in point: a tale of two yoga instructors.

Most yoga classes end with a salutation, a namaste. Namaste is both a spoken word, an action (a small bow) and a gesture (hands pressed together, fingers pointing upwards, thumbs to the heart). The word comes from Sanskrit, and means “I bow to the divine in you.”

My favourite yoga teacher always adds a personal reflection to the namaste: “We honour all of our teachers.” I love this, because right away I start thinking about some new thing I’ve just learned and the person who taught it to me. The phrase makes me reflect upon who my teachers really are. There are traditional teachers, those to whom we go for organized instruction.  There are casual teachers who share specific pieces of information that enhance our understanding. There are friends and acquaintances who share knowledge and wisdom. And those closest to us, who know us best, share insight. Even our enemies are teachers, maybe especially so in my case!

While visiting in the southern USA I attended yoga classes with a new teacher. He was a lovely man dedicated to his practice, but sometimes I didn’t think he was teaching me well. He pushed me and his training made me rely more on my body than my support props; I was encouraged to move faster than was comfortable and attempt advanced poses before I felt ready.  Sometimes I wanted to tell him that I know better than to do that, but he was my teacher.

If I am to truly honour my teachers, I had to figure out what I was supposed to be learning from him. Certainly I learned that I am more of a rank beginner than I thought, and I don’t like having learned that. This teacher’s namaste? “I honour the courage I see in each of you.” The courage to know when to say no, or the courage to allow myself to say yes? I still haven’t figured it out.

So, who are your teachers? And do you listen, really listen, to them?

Urgle

Meaghan McIsaac’s debut novel, Urgle, is an intriguing story. Urgle, “the boy history would name useless”, lives in the rich fantasy world of the Ikkuma Pit, complete with the Piq Flies of the Baublenotts, the melted faces of the Abish Village, and the mysterious Belphebans.

Told from Urgle’s point of view, it is the story of a quest. The Brothers of the Ikkuma Pit are abandoned by their mothers at birth so babies are paired with a big brother; little Cubby gets Urgle, who is sure he is a terrible big brother. But when Cubby is kidnapped, it is Urgle who leads the rescue. Along the way, the rescuers become embroiled in a war that could spell disaster for everyone.

McIsaac has a knack for creating multi-dimensional characters; Urgle in particular is well drawn. The action is fast-paced and will keep readers engaged. However, there are some holes in the construction of the fantasy world that go beyond the suspension of disbelief, and this at times disrupts the flow, possibly confusing readers. Nonetheless, the strong elements of this story overpower the weaknesses and will pique interest in the planned, and very necessary, sequel.

Urgle

Meaghan McIsaac

978-1-77086-308-8

Dancing Cat Books

August 2013

240 pp.

Ages 10-14

Hoop Dreams

Hoop Dreams is the newest offering in Lorna Schultz Nicholson’s Podium Sports Academy Series, which follows the elite athletes of Podium. High school’s hard enough, but when tough teen issues like bullying, anorexia, drug use, homosexuality and suicide are added to their highly competitive lives, Nicholson pushes the intensity level to dangerous and exciting highs.

Allie is tall, strong, and the star captain of Podium’s basketball team. With a full scholarship in the bag everybody thinks she’s got it made, but her family hardly cares, her boyfriend’s flirting with somebody else and her knee—well, she has to be really careful with it. Her dreams are so precarious it’s no surprise when they come crashing down, pushing Allie to an emotional edge. What will she do if there’s nothing—and nobody—left to care about?

Allie leads a cast of well-drawn, multicultural characters, some of whom have starred in other Podium books, giving a cohesive feel to this fictional high school. The action flows naturally, alternating between scenes of intense basketball action, solitary angst, and hanging with friends. Readers will identify with Allie’s struggles and second-guess her choices, making this a valuable and worthwhile read for all teens—elite athletes or not. Gripping, relatable and fast-paced, these books will appeal to a wide-ranging audience, particularly to teens reading below age level.

 

Hoop Dreams

By Lorna Schultz Nicholson

978-1-45940-588-2

James Lorimer and Company

April 18, 2014

136 pages

Ages 12 – 17

 

Imagine winning this …

I am so proud. My cousin, Gary Denniss, has just been awarded the Lieutenant Governor’s Ontario Heritage Award for Lifetime Achievement. As his cousin, I’m thrilled to bits. As an author, I’m overwhelmed. This is a man who was inspired by Canada’s centennial in 1967 to start preserving the local history of Muskoka, his home. So for the last forty-five years he has scoured archives, collected maps and photos, engaged his community and interviewed hundreds of people. The result: more than thirty books as well as a bi-weekly newspaper column on the schools, the churches, the hospitals, the railway, the steamships, the wars, the founding fathers, the origins of the place names and endless other “titches of Muskoka”, which is the name of his newspaper column. As he says, “Left unrecorded, they become posterity’s loss.” I am humbled.

The Quest is completed!

Just got home, dirty and hot. Scrabbled through the mesquite until we saw a birder, standing stock still. “Did you see him?” she whispered. No need to ask who “he” was. We all waited, quietly and very still. And then, he was there. Probably had been all along. For a big, bright bird, his ability to fade into the shadows is uncanny. This feels like the glass slipper, the gold ring, and the philosopher’s stone all at once. We have found the Elegant Trogon!

Quest Failure #2

I suppose it is a little ridiculous, perhaps even prideful, to assume that a rare-ish bird will show itself right where you are, right when you want it. No luck today. Instead we saw the Cactus Wren. He was very noisy, part of the genus LBB. Little Brown Bird. It’s a big group. I’m sure his mother loves him, but he’s not an Elegant Trogon.

Quest Failure #1

Quest Failure #1: We saw a Roadrunner. We actually saw Wile E. Coyote as well, but he was in a different arroyo and there was no ACME equipment in sight. Cute, but it’s not an Elegant Trogon.


 

The Hunt for the Elegant Trogon

I’m going on a quest, searching for a bird called the Elegant Trogon. It lives in the Sonoran Desert in Central America and Mexico. But that range sticks a narrow finger up into the Patagonia Lakes area in Arizona, and that’s where I am right now. So I’m going to find an Elegant Trogon. That’s my quest. It’s into the dusty, hot mesquite bush for me…

The National Reading Campaign

Just a note – many (but not all) of my reviews were originally published in Readerly, the review section of the National Reading Campaign. But I’m not the only reviewer, and reviews are not the only thing the NRC does. This is what the Campaign is all about, from their website at http://www.nationalreadingcampaign.ca:

Welcome to the National Reading Campaign
The Plan

Reading is essential to the quality of our lives and to our ability to take our place as citizens in a democracy. Over the past four years, hundreds of Canadians: readers, educators, librarians, publishers, parents, and writers from every part of the country have worked together to create a National Reading Plan. The National Reading Plan addresses ways to ensure that each of us — regardless of age, background, income level, level of education, or location — has access to reading of all kinds and in all platforms. The National Reading Campaign is engaged in putting this exciting and challenging plan into place from coast to coast.

Check them out!