A day of memorable characters…

It is a wet mid-October Sunday on Denman. While there are sporadic streaks of sun, the deluge is poised to let loose. It is not going to be pleasant, unless you are of a mind that torrential rain is a good thing. I often stay indoors when it rains. Today, this afternoon, my monthly writers group gathers in the Activity Lounge in order to enjoy and comment on a selection of each other’s work.

I almost do not go. I am feeling somewhat under the weather; likely from watching too many Ebola news reports this past week. Still, this gathering of local writers is a highlight of each month. It is not only the getting together with an eclectic gathering of fellow scribes; it is also the taking of whatever journey each of the presenters takes us on.

Today, we begin our travels with a journey back to a small eastern Canadian elementary school 60 year ago. For nine gentle minutes, we are in that classroom, that small town, competing in a delightful spelling bee, held over a number of days. The storey is paced; the characters palpable.

Next, we are invited into a drab 1961 Liverpool wedding, a hurried affair, the bride three months pregnant, the groom…from the Middle East. The story juxtaposes this unadorned ceremony with the much later and grander marriage of a child of that earlier union.

Then we venture to the Fraser Valley sometime in the more recent past. The time is unclear. The story is stark and beautiful. A fire! The aftermath! The impact on the small farm, the owner, and the community around.

The author reads a second story; almost a poem, futuristic, some apocalyptic event, perhaps.

The final programmed reading; the briefest of poems…read slowly…surely…

We are ahead of schedule. I offer to read a turkey fantasy. I fear I may have ruined the mood. Or at least, Turk Hammer, my fabricated Spillane-inspired Turkey private eye character, may have.

As we leave, the rain is walloping the Island. I feel well-travelled. And ready to get back to writing.