Laurie Fraser's Blog, page 10

Multicultural Fashion Show

At a school celebration, students posed proudly in their traditional clothing.

Morocco

Cambodia

Salwar kameez- India

Habesha dress- Ethiopia

Habesha dress- Ethiopia

Gurung family dress- Bhutan

mother and daughter- Cameroon

Guntiino dress- Somalia

Men wearing the futa- Somalia

modern Myanmar

Iraq.  Arab-style head covering- kaffiyeb or gutra

They told me this is a young man’s style and an old man’s style in traditional Iraq.

 

Kuwaiti men’s dishdasha

Tibetan style

 

Tamang dress- Nepal

Sari- India

Nepali man playing a madal

dolma- vegetables stuffed with rice- Iraq

 

Can’t resist one shot of the food- what a feast we had!

 

 

 

 

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Reading in Vancouver for Kurdish House.

There are days in my life that I’d be willing to live over and over without changing a moment- May 18 was one of those. I woke up in Shwan and Yvonne’s place in Coquitlam to a fantastic breakfast, was chauffeured to Douglas College with a detour on the way to see the beautiful Maillardville and then I ran into my old friend Jeff on his way to the event. “The Event” as it’s been called for 2 months, was planned by Kurdish House, mainly Shwan Chawshin, with ferocity. He invited MPs, put out flyers, advertised on Kurdtv, emailed, facebooked, telephoned…Shwan filled that auditorium.

Vancouver reading May 2014

What a thrill for me to read to a Kurdish audience! I felt my life had come full circle. After all these years, I was embraced again by a Kurdish community. Eighteen years ago I promised a group of Kurdish refugees that I would tell their story to the world and here I was reading from it to a group of Kurds, many of whom were refugees.

I’ve been haunted by the refugees I met in North Kurdistan in March 1996. I’ve wondered, tearfully, many times what happened to them, if any survived…I remember especially the barefoot boy who fell in the cold mud and his poor mother who didn’t have water to wash him or heat to warm him.

 

chatting at the end

I read that part of the book to the Vancouver community. When I finished, a number of people came to talk.

“I lived in one of those tents for 4 years.”

“My father was killed, my brothers died in jail…I am the only one left.”

“I was Peshmerga, 8 years.”

“I was tortured every day for 45 days.”

They are miserable words, but to me, to see so many people who had survived, who had made it to Canada…well for me, it was an affirmation of life. I hadn’t been able to imagine how ANYone could survive the desolate situation I witnessed.

I also read about the wedding- a foreigner finding her way through 3 days of rituals and celebrations- and the audience laughed out loud at her efforts and observations. A few people told me they had both laughed and cried in the 30-minute reading. What a joy for a writer to see the impact her words have made! And I was reminded again of the emotional openness and honesty of this community- men who can come up to me with tears in their eyes and say what they are thinking or remembering. I have said it before: The Kurds are stunningly courageous people in so many ways.

I remember sometimes resenting that my evenings, weekends, holidays were spent in isolation, indoors, working on a manuscript. I didn’t know if it would ever be read by anyone but me. I wondered sometimes if I was wasting years of my life. Other times, there was nothing more important than keeping my promise, nothing more beautiful than the polished words that I touched and touched and touched again. I did dare to dream it would be appreciated…and this past weekend that dream came true.

Ava’s reading

Ava Homa read from her fascinating collection of short stories Echoes from the Other Land, Avan Ali read poetry in Kurdish and the host Nassir gave a stirring speech. We ended the afternoon with singing by Nadia- a Kurdish singer. After the strain of travelling and the tension of speaking, that music was a release. Nadia’s voice roused the joy in us all and as we clapped along I watched for who would dance first.  It was a group of men at the back. They formed a chain and snapped the handkerchief. I attached myself to the chain and danced with pure exaltation.

With all of my heart- thank you Shwan and Yvonne, Ava and Shaima, Aras and Sewar, Taban (who gave me flowers before I even read and who had never met me before), Jeff and all of the beautiful people who shared their Sunday with me.

Thank you to Kurdish House for the plane ticket and the roof over my head!

Shwan, Laurie, Yvonne

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First taste of green in Ontario/Quebec- fiddleheads

How to pick & cook fiddleheads:

picking fiddleheads

 

If it looks like a fiddlehead- it is. Fern leaves first emerge curled tightly into buttons called fiddleheads. Pluck them before they unfurl into giant fronds (or pick them up now at the farmers’ market, most grocers…) Store in cold water.

 

Pluck the fiddlehead as it first emerges.

 

place in cold water, boil, drain, repeat twice more

Fiddleheads are mild-tasting. They’re full of EPA omega-3 fatty acids & high concentrations of antioxidants. Also vitamins A & C, potassium, iron & calcium.

No need to clean them- just cover with cold water in a pot and bring to a boil. As soon as the boil is reached, drain the water.

Repeat 2 more times: cold-boil-drain.

Fiddleheads will be perfectly cooked & cleaned. The water from the first 2 drains will be brown but the third time it will be green.

serve with lemon &/or butter

Season with lemon (I’m out of fresh) or butter and pepper or tamari.

Side with boiled eggs, fish, chicken or ham. Good in fried rice; cold salads with lemon, diced peppers & pickled red onion.

So good…a distinctive taste of spring in my area of the world.

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Swartz’s Deli just a walk from Old Montreal.

Notre Dame Basilica

I dawdled through the cobblestone streets of Old Montreal. I knew better than to enter the pricey tourist shops or restaurants, but I spent an hour in Notre Dame Basilica where I was stilled by beauty and peace.

 

 

 

scavenging coins from the fountain outside Notre Dame.

I emerged thirsty and walked a few blocks into Chinatown for a coconut bubble tea (which contained no tea or bubbles and was not hot). I turned onto St. Laurent and picked up my pace. After weeks of anticipation I was on my way to Swartz’s. It was a bit of a trek on a hot day, but I stuck to the shady of the street.

I love the streets of Montreal for their character and characters both. Pretty houses with outside staircases and fancy stonework, small businesses without the guidance of head offices. The people: fashionistas, hipsters, druggies, families with dogs, men with that French swagger… I could walk all day just people- watching.

St. Laurent

counter stool at Swartz’s

I joined the line-up outside Swartz’s Deli; we were mostly tourists. The locals go across the street, where the smoked meat sandwiches are reportedly even better, but a visit to the historical delicatessen is about more than a great sandwich. Opened by a Jewish immigrant form Romania, Reuban Shwartz, the iconic eatery is listed in every Montreal guidebook. It has been visited by celebrities such as Celine Dion,

smoked meat on rye with a pickle at Swartz’s deli

Jerry Lewis, Tim Allen, The Rolling Stones and Angelina Jolie. I’ve heard of Shwartz’s sandwiches picked up by private jet. (Finally, a good reason to own a private jet.) Looking for more information about the tiny crowded money-maker? Read the book- Shwartz’s Hebrew Delicatessen: The Story by Bill Brownstein.

It’s a smooth-running operation (guess they got it down after 80 years of practice). When the host called down the line for a “single”, I skipped to the front and was escorted to a stool at the long counter. I couldn’t get a knish- the menu is very streamlined- but I was satisfied with a sandwich and pickle.

It’s a dry crumbly smoked meat- tasty and tender, quite different from the slippery chewy smoked meat in Ottawa delis. I ate slowly, savouring the happy hectic atmosphere around me, the black and whites on the wall, the laughter in the air.

Outside, a kitchen worker smoked in a doorway out of the sun, and I stopped to chat. He goes to Ottawa for the green parks and space. “It is more clean,” he motioned to rubbish at his feet. I laughed. “I come to Montreal for the grit.” I motioned to a guitar player and his open case. “I come for the crowds, the action on the street.”

Indeed, as I walked a few blocks south, I came upon a protest against Monsanto, and a little further on, a street closed to cars but full of open patios cheering a World Cup game.

Monsanto protest, Montreal

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Vancouver reading May 18, 2014: Ava Homa & Laurie Fraser

Vancouver May 18, 2014

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Free reading at online library.

Scribd feels like a good deal all round. It’s an online library with over 300,000 titles. Currently you can try it for free, but it’s normally 8.99/month. For that, you can click on any book you like and read immediately on any device. If you don’t like the book, close it and try another. I have a free trial now- it’s fun and easy.

It’s a great deal for readers – many e books are over $9, including mine (9.65) – so really, joining Scribd is the cheapest way to read my book (while having access to many more).

It’s a great deal for authors – we are paid a fee every time our book is read.

Get your free month at http://www.scribd.com/

 

 

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Self-publishing Advice (in hindsight).

Mission accompished- Meet the author at Perfect Books

Self-publishing Afterthoughts: What I did and what I wish I’d known.

I won’t repeat what’s already online about how to self-publish. I will say: It isn’t 7 easy steps. Also, note the date as you read- the market is changing rapidly (eg. CreateSpace has surpassed lulu.com in preference; smashwords.com is exceptional but hardly a household name yet…) Mostly, I will share my mistakes with you, the shortcuts that I wasn’t aware of, the money I could have saved.

First- What I did (bare bones):

-manuscript in final copy edit, creative complete, (acknowledgements, disclaimer, dedication, permission etc.)

-artist and designer working together on cover

Early cover sketch

-website content: excerpts, discussion questions, photos, images, blog… ($1500)

-crowdfunding campaign. Crowdfunding levels the playing field. Everyone (anyone) can make a CD, start a small business, publish a book- crowdfunding is a great way of getting investors/capital.

I wrote the script for the campaign video (minimal wording) and planned “perks” for donors. I hired professionals to tape the video ($850). It was uploaded to youtube & my website. It can be used after campaign for marketing.

I used Indiegogo.com for the campaign & I have no complaints. Lots of support material is provided. I ran a summer campaign & I missed donors because of it. I made $4,000 on the campaign and from that paid 9% to Indiegogo, paid for the video & part of the website bill, printed 200 books and mailed 50 of them as perks to campaign donors.

-joined Facebook with marketing in mind during crowd-funding campaign

-manuscript went to designer to lay out in indd format. Proofs and final edits. Cover jacket then finalized on indd with blurbs, reviews and quotes, art, scanner product code. Whole thing went to local printer to print 100 copies digitally ($1,700) (I didn’t make enough on the campaign to afford a larger traditional printing- 1500 books for $12,000.)

Signing & wrapping “perks” for crowd-funders

-Epub version of file created for upload to Amazon for Kindle reader. Very fussy. ($400 for expert help)

-I readied a Microsoft Word version of the manuscript using Smashwoods Style Guide and then uploaded it to www.smashwords.com where it can be purchased by anyone and downloaded in any format (PDF, Kobo, Kindle, Apple iPad, Apple iPad, Nook, Sony Reader, & most e-reading apps including Stanza, Aldiko, Adobe Digital Editions, others (Epub), PDF, RTF, Plain text, Palm Doc (PTB), LRF). I’m not techno-talented. If I can do it, anyone can. (It took me many hours and there was some yelling at the computer.)

-Uploaded to Kobo (epub file) then Nook (epub file), although Smashwords can do this for you automatically with your properly-styled Microsoft Word document.

-Launch & marketing tasks picked up.

-Second order with local printer- this time $3,400 for 200 digitally-produced books. (My greatest folly.)

-Last thing I did was upload to CreateSpace for print-on-demand at Amazon (and married that page with the Kindle version)

Okay, now this is what I wish I’d known:

Those people who say they’ve got self-publishing down to 7 easy steps accomplished over a weekend are blatant liars (or doing a shoddy job). Block off some time, I mean holidays, a summer…

1- Plan marketing long before you’re even finished writing. Flesh it out once in a while, constantly picking other people’s brains and websites. Have some real tasks set out in detail for when your book is launched. By that time you will be up against sheer fatigue and some fear too. Have the steps broken down with a timeline- some tasks will begin months before the book is even complete.

2- Join Facebook way back when you’re writing the book & include friends in the journey. It comes on harsh when you show up just to market your new thing (even when you’re upfront about it).

3- Chat with your videographer a few times before filming- bargain a better price, trust your vision & share it, choose young hip videographers, plan a fun day, be flexible- let the magic happen. Don’t over-practise.

Video practice fun- click to see blooper

4- Don’t run a crowd-funding campaign in summer when everyone’s outside. Study Indiegogo and plan at least a couple of months ahead of time. There are some great crowd-funding workshops out there. This is when you need your savvy computer friends to help out- people with connections who will put some effort into spreading your video/researching email addresses/finding contacts online who will help your cause. You will spend hours doing this, but according to workshop notes I have, you need someone “who can come up with 500 new contacts in a day when the pressure is on”. I still don’t understand how to access to email lists/newsletters etc.

5- Style your Word Perfect document using the www.smashwords.com style guide. This is worth every moment to get it right. If you read this early enough, do it while you’re setting up your manuscript in the first place and write within that format. Then upload it to smashwords.com and thru them to Kobo and Nook.

6- Get print-on-demand thru Create Space and (yay!) use the Word Perfect document you just styled for Smashwords. Now you can print those perks for your campaign donors at $8 each plus shipping, so yeah, you’re not saving anything really- except all the visits/proofs/interaction with the local printer, wrapping and mailing all those books, putting cash out on a large order that may or may not be filled quickly (There are a lot of boxes of books at my house.)

Books arrive from printer

7- I wish I’d known that when a local unknown author leaves books at his local independent bookstore (no, Chapters won’t look at you until you sell a bunch on Amazon), that these books are left on consignment. When they do sell, it’s 60/40, the writer’s 60% hopefully covering his production costs. (I paid $17 per book, they sell for 29.99. My share is $20.)

8- I wish I’d taken responsibility for the product bar code on the back of the book. There’s a simple app to check that the bar code works, but mine doesn’t. It feels unprofessional when this comes up in a bookstore.

9- Why did I pay someone $400 to edit my epub file for Amazon? I could have gone to smashwords first and got an epub file from there. Then I could have used it for Kindle or Kobo or whoever else.

10- Choose a publishing date at the beginning of the month. My date is Sept. 30. Now when I’m going to author’s fairs and so on, I am asked what month it was published because the show may be open only to authors who published in the last 6 or 12 months.

11- Plan more than a month between campaign-end and launch. It will take at least 6 weeks to print books and mail them as perks, upload and give e-books in various formats, and plan launch details. My tight deadlines caused unnecessary stress.

12- If I were to do it again, I would insist that the artist have a final look before the designer sends it to the printer. Mistakes would have been caught by the artist that the designer didn’t see. Neither the designer nor the artist saw the cover proof before it went to print (different cities) and that caused errors in the final product. If timelines had been kept (or if I’d been more flexible about changing deadlines), there would have been time to mail it around.

First look at the proof, tears in my eyes.

My final bit of advice: Take charge- this is your project. Your inexperience with publishing doesn’t equal stupidity- demand respect for knowing your product & your audience and for your many skills. Do not be intimidated.

Surround yourself with encouraging dependable people who will give quick and honest feedback on script, video, blogs, website look, campaign progress, cover, book dimensions etc.

Last word: Joy. No matter how traumatic the process is, do not succumb to fear. It’s a triumph to finally relinquish your creation and share it with the world. Take time to dwell on the joy. Congratulations on your accomplishment, my friend. Best of luck!

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Indian chai recipe

My friends say this taste is synonymous with my home, but for me, the taste is India itself.

cardomom pods, cinnamon stick, black tea

Put a bit of water in a pot with crushed cinnamon stick and cardamom pods (1/3 stick cinnamon and 3 pods per person).

Boil this for a few minutes, then add a mug of milk for each person ( I use rice milk, but a mix of soy and rice is really good, or regular old cow’s milk.) Add a black tea bag per person.

Heat gently and add 1/2 – 1 teaspoon honey per person or to taste. Leave it on the stove until you can’t resist the smell. The longer you leave it, the better it tastes.

Another option: use loose black tea and put it in the pot with the boiling spices before simmering. This is more traditional but I find it too strong.

Whatever gets me through the Ottawa winter is a good thing.

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Mushrooms are Mostly Air (Flash fiction)

Mushrooms are mostly air.

Wind ripples the long dried pods still hanging from the honey locust tree, and they clack together like a mammoth wooden chime. The gnome’s sharp ears pick up the low clacking; the music fills his body the way a favourite memory does.

He’s cobalt blue from his pointed hat to his pointed toes. He stands beside a sturdy stout mushroom ready to get to work, now the smoke has cleared.

The smoker comes five, even seven, times a day to this rarely-used path through the small woods at the back of the park. The largest rock welcomes her and after she blows the sweet smoke into the air, she continues to sit and stare for some time. She always sniffs and leaves tissues about. Then she heaves herself up and plods back in the same direction she came from.

The gnome knows this smoke will impair his frequency if he isn’t careful, so he waits inside the mushroom until the wind has done some preliminary work.

And that is precisely the behaviour that has confused the scavenger. The skinny shirtless man comes most evenings. He doesn’t smoke, but he collects the leavings of the sick girl. Sometimes he can’t find the gnome. Sometimes he can.

Today he says, “I know you’re a real thing and not a schizophrenic thing. I been takin’ my meds.”

The gnome is grateful for the help, but he wishes that the man would take the tissues too.

Gnome’s home

a stout sturdy mushroom

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Remembering Halabja

Today is the day Halabja was lost, 14 years ago. In Iraq, 5,000 Kurds were killed in one chemical gas attack.

The new Halabja monument in the Hague is fashioned after the infamous photos of people dying in their tracks, shielding their children with their bodies. Bas News reports that it is fitting that the monument be in the Netherlands “since a Dutch businessman Frans van Anraat was sentenced to 17 years in prison for selling raw material for the production of chemical weapons to Iraq during the Iran-Iraq war in the 80s.”

See the monument here.

This is the account I was told (from The Word Not Spoken):

He leaned back against the wall and pulled her closer to put his arm around her. He showed her pictures of his army service. Ahmet looked unfamiliar in the pictures with his buzzed hair, green fatigues and black boots laced up his shins. His ears stuck out. The soldiers held their MG3s and MG11s casually. Their faces were smiling, their arms around each other. The background was brown rock with an occasional pale green bush.

Ahmet explained that every male Turkish citizen performed eighteen months of military service by the time he was twenty years old. Ahmet, however, had served twenty-one months. He had been in the army during the Gulf War. He had fought with the Turkish Army on the border of Iraq. Their enemy had been the P.K.K.

He said that the P.K.K. (Kurdish Workers’ Party) was a powerful group of Kurdish freedom fighters. They were fighting the Turkish Army in the east and in the government.

“How could you fight for the Turks against your own people?”

“It is difficult situation.”

One picture showed Ahmet jumping from one huge rock to another, a large gun hanging from one shoulder loosely swung through the air with him.

“One time, the American Army gave us the location of a P.K.K. camp. We surrounded the camp in northern Iraq. It was big; about five hundred guerrillas lived there. We shoot a few hours. Then an American helicopter came and rescued some men from the buildings in the middle of the camp.”

“The United States told you the Kurds were there and then rescued them from you?”

“A few. With a ladder. Like a rope.”

“Why would the U.S. help both sides and have them fight each other?”

“Of course, to make both sides weak. And busy.”

He flicked through the pictures. “This one,” he said, pointing to a picture of five men laughing at the camera. “The next day they died. All four. Yes, I am the only one who is still alive.”

“Really, the next day?”

“Hah, in one battle. All on same day.” He gazed at the picture and was silent for a moment. Settled now with her head on his chest, Leigh looked upwards to see pursed lips.

“What did you do?”

“I cried.”

Ahmet sighed. He flipped to the next picture.

“These are the refugees from Iraq. Do you remember 1991, they walked over the mountains to get away from Saddam Hussein?”

Leigh nodded. The picture showed hundreds of people and tents crouched on a mountain slope.

“He started many years ago. In only the 1980s, five thousand Kurdish villages were destroyed by him. One of them was Halabja. We can never forgiven that. Halabja was the most beautiful place in all of Kurdistan. Many people say it was the sweetest place on earth. It was a green diamond.”

“An emerald.”

“It was Kurdistan’s heart. One day Saddam made it rain gas. Thousands of people were burned and poisoned. Some run to Iran.

“And 1991, same crime, but many, many towns near to Turkey. They were fighting for freedom from Hussein. They run to Turkey.” Ahmet shook his head. “They are treated like animals here.”

He tossed the pile of photos aside and rummaged for more in one of the plastic bags on the floor.

 

 

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