Book talks, and ball hockey in Belize?
Writing life: 54
In the wake of the weighty question examined in my last post, there are a couple of disparate but lighter topics covered in what follows, including an unusual experience in Central America.
On the road one day in March…
I’ve written in this space before about how important book promotion in general, and book talks in particular, are to the success of new novels in the months after their launch. (You can read that post, The Power of Book Talks, here.) Even though, A New Season has now been in bookstores for seven months, I feel fortunate to still have a full dance card with eleven events already scheduled in April, seven booked (so far) in May, and another 16 in the months thereafter already locked down. It really is how you sell books in this country, which is how you secure the opportunity to publish more books. Here’s a quick look at a couple recent book talks.
East Gwillimbury
In mid-march I spoke in East Gwillimbury—just north of Toronto—at the 55 ‘n Up Club. It was quite a large group as far as community book events go, and my pal, Grant Campbell, from Blue Heron Books in Uxbridge was on hand to sell my current novel and my entire backlist, too. I dutifully and happily signed each book sold as well as the unsold stock. Oh, and there were butter tarts, too. It would have been a great morning even without the butter tarts.
Coldwater
Right after the East Gwillimbury gig, I drove further north to the lovely town of Coldwater, Ontario, not too far from Orillia, where I spoke that evening at the Severn Township Public Library. The library is lovely and provided an intimate venue for a solid crowd. Lots of food served, too.
Georgian Bay Books in nearby Midland was there to sell my humble offerings, for which I am grateful, and I signed quite a few that evening. One highlight of the evening for me was seeing my dear friend, Judith Rapson at the event. In a way, Judith changed my life as a writer. She chaired the jury when I won my first Leacock Medal in 2008, and it was she who called to leave me a fateful voicemail on March 27th, 2008 to say that my first novel had been shortlisted for the prize. We’ve been fast friends ever since.
Ball hockey in Belize
I’m quite sure that I’m one of the few people on this earth to have ever placed “ball hockey” and “Belize” in the same phrase. A groundbreaking literary moment, to be sure. Yes, if you’ve read A New Season, you’ll already know of the Withrow Park Ball Hockey League in the lovely Toronto community of Riverdale. Well, even though the league is portrayed in the novel, it is anything but fiction. I’ve played in the league now for more than twenty years with no plans to stop. I used the league to explore male friendship in A New Season.
A unique aspect of the league is that one of our intrepid crew, Roger Dey, has, for many years now, taken it upon himself to organize trips to exotic locales to, yes, odd as it may sound, play hockey against local teams, usually heavily populated with Canadian ex pats. He does a fantastic job, and I’ve had the good fortune to have played ball hockey in the Bahamas, the Cayman Islands, Las Vegas, and last week in Belize.
Eight aging players from our league—a great group of guys—the Withrow Tropical Knights, made the journey in late March to play a three-game series against the Belize Buccaneers, a mix of ex pat Canadians and local Belizeans who just happen to love the game of ball hockey. We were playing for the coveted Coconut Cup.
It was not a full-sized hockey pad, so the games were played four-on-four (two forwards and two defence on the floor from each team). We had one stellar, offensive minded forward line, and then there was the second line, the one I was on. But we held our own scoring about a third of our goals across the three games. Oh, yes, not to bury the lede, we won all three games and the championship. Winning wasn’t the important part, but it was nice nevertheless.
We spent our final day in Belize on the water, including a couple of hours lounging on a sandbar in the middle of the Caribbean Sea, and then enjoyed dinner at a seaside restaurant elevated on stilts above the water. The sunset was incredible.
I know that you’re thinking. What does a ball hockey trip to Belize have to do with my writing life. Okay, you got me. It is arguably only tangentially related in that I wrote about ball hockey in my last novel, A New Season. But really, this was a long-anticipated change-of-scene for me. We all need time with friends to recharge and steel ourselves for the challenges of the year that still lie ahead. For me, those future challenges include writing my tenth novel now that it’s nearly fully outlined. I confess I do feel refreshed and renewed and ready to forge ahead with the manuscript for The Marionette. But I also am still recovering from playing three games over two days in 30°C heat and very high humidity. My legs still feel like somebody else’s. But I’ll get there.
From my perspective, traveling and broadening our horizons, testing ourselves, and trying new things are all grist for the writer’s mill. I suspect some of the experiences I had last week in Belize may well be adapted and given to characters in future novels. That’s just how it works.
Now, back to my manuscript...
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Travelling - Grist for the Writing Mill. Love that analogy! One trip to a Smithsonian Museum … And I may never get out of my Imaginary World. Now I know why.
Super silly question. When you play ball hockey, do you use one of those super hard orange plastic balls, or a soft rubber puck? We always used the soft rubber puck when playing road hockey, which caused me to develop an unhealthy fear of what it might feel like to stop a slapshot of anything harder with my body.