Ian Rankin: intelligent, witty and sold out

The Arts Club on Granville Island was sold out, and I waited in the queue for Ian Rankin to sign my book. In a House of Lies features the retired John Rebus, now a non-smoker and dog owner. As Siobhan works on a cold case that's heating up, he gets his oar in once again.

Rankin was delightful, and Jerry Wasserman, his interviewer, was a lot of fun. He make a joke about calling him Big Ger, the name of Rebus's arch-enemy. The audience laughed, and he quipped, "Good, you've read the books."

Some of Ian Rankin's revelations surprised me. He once got funding to embark on a PhD about Muriel Spark, but after considering what Muriel would have wished him to do with the money, he decided she'd prefer he write books. He did that while undertaking his PhD studies, which he never did complete. Recently, though, he used his expertise about her to help with Spark's centennial celebrations. (She was born in 1918).

Before finding his feet as a novelist, he once purpled them as a grape tramper for a winery. The work, he explained, is done naked, since as the grape juice rises to mid-chest level before tramping is complete. His negligence of his duty to feed the lees to the resident pigs before they fermented ended in death and loss. One pig (50% of the herd of two) died drunk on grape pressings and Rankin lost his job as a swineherd.

Another fascinating detail: Rankin was dismayed, even outraged, when his initial Rebus novel was put in the crime section of the bookstore. A serious writer, he employs his craft to understand himself, society, and humanity. And he never knows how a Rebus novel will end until he is well into the work. "If I outlined," he said, "I wouldn't have to write the book, as I'd already know what happened." In fact, he has once such outline in his drawer of a book he never went on to write.

Finding Mr. Wong by Susan Crean

I found this book a real page turner. More than a memoir, it's a well-researched portrayal of Canada's social history, much of it forgotten. Centred in Toronto during Crean's childhood, this memoir describes how her young life was enriched by Mr. Wong, a Chinese man who cooked, worked and lived in the household of her grandparents. With China suffering famine and political chaos, Wong had left his home village to travel from Taishan to Hong Kong, and thence to Vancouver, to join his only living relative.

Two oceans away, another kind of disaster, the potato famine, had forced huge swaths of the Irish population to board ships for the new world in the hopes of survival. The displaced arrived in such numbers that by 1871, they were a quarter of the population of English-speaking Canada. Crean's great-grandfather was among these immigrants.

On the edge of starvation and weakened by disease, the early arrivals received a cold welcome in the new land. The reason? They were Irish Catholics, and the English and Scots Protestants thought them different and untrustworthy. Indeed, Sir John A. Macdonald was an Orangeman. Yet in time, the Irish settled and melded into the community.

But the racist bias that buffeted Mr. Wong's life was far worse than that visited on the Irish. He faced the additional challenge of bridging a vast gap of language and culture. Yet in spite of the cold welcome he received in the new nation, Mr. Wong too made a life, knitting himself into a single family, at a time when, except for Chinatown, the community offered little connection. He liked cooking, developed his skill and worked to acquire English. He met Crean's grandfather and the two men trusted each other. Wong joined the household, promising to stand by the family.

As was the case for his fellow Chinese Canadians, social circumstances made it virtually impossible for Wong to marry. Along her siblings, Crean "grew up in Mr. Wong's kitchen," and took his love, care and guidance for granted. As a child, she knew little about his past, or his Chinatown forays. As an aging woman, she decided to research the history that would help her "find" Mr. Wong.

In doing so, she excavates our nation's past. The reader learns about the physical separation of the servant class, as expressed in the "upstairs downstairs" architecture of houses "comprising two interlocking parts that could be completely closed off from each other." The "backstairs" were the servants' entrance, and led to their invisible quarters.

The delusions of racial purity that were current at the time, as well as the strictures on female behaviour were enforced by powerful social sanctions. Crean's relating the story of Velma and Harry reminds us of the "racist and misogynist laws lurking in our history." When Velma fell in love with Harry Yip and they moved in together, the state quickly intervened. Velma was arrested, labelled "incorrigible," and locked up in a reformatory. The description of what went on there reads more like abuse than care. When Velma gave birth to Harry's son, he was taken away "for everyone's good." Fortunately, after a year of incarceration, she got out and married Harry, and they managed to retrieve their child.

"How is it," inquires the author, "that we don't even know [the Female Refuges Act] remained on the books in Ontario till 1964?" How have we forgotten the White Woman's Labour Laws that prevented Chinese businesses from employing "white" women? It behooves us to remember the Chinese Exclusion Act (1923 to 1947) that followed the infamous head tax era. What are we to make of the federal government's rebuff of RCAF veteran officer Gim Wong when he took the case for head-tax redress on the road in 2005, only a dozen years ago?

The history is a central part of the memoir, and the reader can enjoy warm glimpses of Wong, who made a new home for himself in an alien land. The reader gets more than the closure the author is seeking as she quests for some tangible evidence of Wong himself, long after the death of this very important childhood figure whom she took for granted. Only after visiting China is she able to find peace in her memory of Wong. Like The Inconvenient Indian by Thomas King, this is a book that all Canadian high school students should read.

Outposts by Simon Winchester

Published in 1985 and updated in 2004, this fascinating book describes a series of visits by Simon Winchester to the last remnants of the British Empire.

These throwbacks to another era are mostly small, remote, mid-oceanic islands. All have checkered histories. The island of Diego Garcia, in the Indian Ocean, is nominally part of the British Indian Territory. Thought by some to be the site of the sunken continent of Lemuria, this islet in the Chagos Archipelago is militarized and well-guarded by the US. Here the journalist author is not allowed to set foot.

With the help of an intrepid Australian yachtswoman, he does manage to make the perilous journey to the mid-Atlantic coral scrap that is Tristan da Cunha, and even to get ashore there.

He also visits the infamous Pitcairn, the largest of a remote Pacific island group that sheltered the Bounty's mutineers. Their descendants, some with the surname Christian, still live on the island.

Another port of call is St. Helena, the South Atlantic island where Napoleon lived out his exile. Observing the local life, he notes that the many happy children born out of wedlock are inclusively called "spares." It also seems the islanders have a strong penchant for bestowing nicknames that refer to past events or escapades. But the author does not learn why a certain policeman is called Pink Balls, and comments that this is "better known to his wife."

The islanders enjoy sharing stories, and the author hears tales of large turtles that live hundreds of years. According to legend, one that died when it came ashore not only provided enough meat for three days' worth of soup for an army group; its shell was large enough to act as a roof for a small cottage a local man was building at the time. He's also told of an amazing feat that used to be performed regularly. School boys carried lunchtime bowls of hot soup down the 699-step Jacob's Ladder on their laps, while they slid down the steep ascent, heads on one rail and feet on the other.

As with all of Winchester's stories, this is a delightful read. He speaks about his travels in terms of geography and weather, and also of obscure and idiosyncratic history. Strange vagaries of the past are laid out for present examination, casting oblique light on the way we are now.

Smiles on order?

The person who taught me the beginnings of this philosophy was a carpenter known in our home town as Jimmy the Greek. "Smile," he said. As a new waitress with a summer job, I didn't appreciate his comment -- thought he was taking undue advantage of his position. In those bygone days, the customer was always right.

Jimmy always smiled and I took myself too seriously. I resented criticism, which was how I interpreted his first request to smile. Fortunately, I couldn't stay mad at him. As a regular, he always had a cheerful comment. Soon he'd invite me to "flip him for coffee." He always tossed, and I often paid from the tips in my apron pocket. Someone said he had a two-headed quarter. But I didn't mind. Jimmy was fun.

Reading a headline in the paper the other day, I was reminded of those long-ago summer I spend as a waitress in Gim Wong's cafe.

"Stop telling me to smile at the gym," screamed the headline. Like the younger version of me, the author had a negative reaction when the woman trainer instructed her to smile.

This interaction illustrates an important life lesson. It's not what happens that matters most. Our interpretation of what has occurred and our stories about what was intended are the things that give us grief.

If being asked to smile triggers a negative reaction, maybe we should wonder why. After all, it's just possible we're being reminded to enjoy the moment. It's hard to argue with such sage advice.

Hal Wake, Eden Robinson, Ali Hassan, and Peter Carey at Whistler Writers Fest

I really enjoyed Whistler Writers Festival. Left, writing conference familiar and expert author interviewer Hal Wake listens while Kitimat novelist Eden Robinson responds to one of his question. Below: comedian Ali Hassan is the interviewer. Along with a rapt audience, he listens to the intermingled funny and serious tones of Peter Carey, who talked about his latest novel.

Music and Stories at Whistler Writers' Fest and Whistler Independent Book Awards

Left, Indy short story writer Mike Sadava, a nominee for the Whistler Independent Book Awards, had a song to go with his stories. Fellow nominee Toko-pa Turner listens from the side. Below, another musical author, Dave Bidini reads from Midnight Light.

Echoes of Kate Atkinson on Thanksgiving Day

Left: Kate Atkinson signs a book for a fan in Vancouver.

I'm so thankful for the opportunity to read the work of amazing writers like Kate Atkinson. From the front row in St. Andrews Wesley last weekend, I delighted to hear her read from her new novel and converse with Vancouver writer Alix Ohlin. I even had a word with her as she signed Transcription. Her latest novel portrays a typist transcribing material captured on hidden recorders by MI5 in WWII.

The transcriptions used, the author assures us, are not actual, but "close facsimiles." Because the technology was less advanced, they contain plenty of gaps and inaudible sections, just waiting to be fleshed out by heated imaginations. In this book, Atkinson says, "Nobody is trustworthy when they tell you who they are."

It's always fascinating to hear how writers create, and how they think about the worlds their novels spring from. I was fascinated to learn that MI5 periodically releases material from their archives into the national archives, where Atkinson did the research for this book. It was also interesting to learn that MI5 used microphones plastered into walls.

Ms. Atkinson says her novel shows how the British "present themselves to themselves" as they look back at the war "through propaganda that we still have." She portrays Juliet, her protagonist, as a scholarship girl who "has been moved out of her class," and "is in exile from herself from the very beginning."

Other comments that stood out for me concerned the world of the time, when aged 18 in 1943, Juliet "has no idea that homosexuality exists." The character of Perry, a gay man, is based on that of Max Knight, (whom I met while reading Rendezvous at the Russian Tea Rooms). This skilled spymaster began his life as a naturalist, and after the war became Uncle Mac, host of a children's nature program on BBC.

When interviewer Ohlin said how much she enjoyed the telling details about food, clothing and household, Atkinson responded by saying "I think I was alive during that period, but I wasn't." Speaking of food, she also informed her audience that "If you could hunt or shoot it, it wasn't rationed," adding that the post-war British diet was "really, truly appalling."

I was also delighted to learn that Jackson Brodie will be back. Indeed, she has finished the new book, and it will coming out soon. I was deeply relieved to hear that although she "did think of killing him off, he's not dead." It was profoundly pleasing to hear that in her "far distant future," she has a "big complicated novel about the early days of the railway."

Though readers find many moments in her novels hilariously funny, Atkinson's humour is "organic;" she never thinks about it while writing. She also feels she writes "filmically," but this too is not a conscious choice. Historical novels like hers, though "not necessarily true," contain "the essence of truth." I couldn't agree more.

A side note supports this idea: after publishing the book, she received a number of touching letters from children of men who flew the bombers. They said it helped them to better understand their dead fathers.

Dead and Kicking -- Paranormal Mystery writer Wendy Roberts at CA -- MV

Ready to evoke the Halloween mood? Join Wendy Roberts as she discusses ghosts, ghouls and things that go bump in the night. Sometimes those spooky noises are just writing prompts from beyond the grave.

Wendy is the author of eleven novels, including two series: the Body of Evidence thrillers and the Ghost Dusters mysteries. She has also penned standalone mysteries Dating Can be Deadly and Grounds to Kill.

Hosted by Canadian Authors -- Metro Vancouver, this event takes place at the Alliance for Arts and Culture on Wednesday, Oct 10 from 7 - 9 pm.

All are welcome and CA members are free. Students with ID $5 at the door; non-members of Canadian Authors pay $10.

The Agony and the Ecstasy with Vancouver artist and writer Michael Klucker

Canadian Authors--Metro Vancouver hosted Michael Kluckner at WORD this year. An attentive audience enjoyed a talk by this cartoonist-painter-writer. "Remainders of the Day" described the highs and lows of his years working to stay afloat. Authorship, he told us, is "a niche market," and one that is constantly changing.

His advice? Stay flexible, develop a thick skin, and don't take resounding indifference personally. Following these principles, Kluckner has survived and thrived from his early cartooning, through the vanished days of making money at magazine writing and the halcyon ones of winning prizes for a beautiful book that catapulted him from his "regional" status when it hit Toronto running, and got him promoted to a "Canadian" writer.

Before the late nineties, an Indy bookstore might carry 4000 titles to serve its local community and book prices were  stable, netting authors about 10% of the retail price. Conditions changed dramatically when Chapters megastores listing 100,000 titles beat back the small booksellers, demanding not only a 50% discount, but a 3-month return option on unsold books. Compounding the problem, Costco and some grocery stores normalized selling books at discount prices. The downward pressure on book prices hit authors and publishers hard.

Less than ten years after the book-buying public was slapped with GST (in 1990), book prices were pushed down and "royalties fell off a cliff." An illustrated coffee table book that would have fetched $40 in the eighties was priced at $35 three decades later. Amazon had become the "poster child" for the online sales model: the platform makes the money, while those who produce the art get next to nothing.

Now that writers and publishers can no longer afford to produce large colourful art books, Michael has moved on. His current genre is the  graphic novel, and his work features archived material, such as newspapers from 1910. Sold at comic fests as well as indies like Black Bond and Book Warehouse, his new work includes a biography of WWI ambulance driver Julia Henshaw, and Toshiko, a fictional Japanese Canadian protagonist in war time. Graphic work, being easier to read, also has the merit of being accessible to a wider and younger group of people, as well as those for whom English is not the mother tongue.

So what's a writer to do? Have a website so people can find you, maintain faith in your solitary craft, and enjoy your community as you find it, both fellow writers and fans. In closing, Michael posed an interesting question. Are contemporary people more interested in authors than books? Whether or not this is true, many now have a "vicarious desire to be part of a creative process."