Chapbook Release Party

“Recently I was interviewed by the CNC Student Association” said Graham Pearce, Creative Writing instructor and co-ordinator of the English Program at CNC. “Damon Robinson and Anubov Sharma asked me how I developed my teaching style. I told them my formal education had some bright spots, but, overall, the postmodernists had taken over the classroom.

“When I was in university, professors were saying, ‘Don’t read dead, white men.’ I didn’t know how to respond. Now I say, you should never predetermine the importance or lack thereof of a person based on immutable characteristics.”

Postmodernism, Pearce pointed out, has since evolved into a cult of identity basing attribution of literary value not on a writer’s poems and stories, but on a complex formula that factors in a writer’s ethnicity, sex, culture, religion, appearance, age, and size.

Acquired characteristics, Pearce said, are more important, things like imagination, knowledge and experience. He sees these expressed in the fiction and poetry of his writing students: “Writers of ENGL 206 and ENGL 103, I have loved reading your writing this term. You can’t imagine how encouraging it is to know that students of kinesiology, medical lab radiology, forestry, and education are writing.”

Pearce introduced his predecessor in creative writing and English, Barry McKinnon, as one who read for the quality of a writer’s experience. “Barry’s the one who told me, ‘Read Charles Olson. Read Robert Creeley. Read Margaret Atwood, for Christ’s sakes. Go to New York,’ he said.”

Warren Vandehoek read his essay on working hours and conditions, and advocated a four-day work week. He made reference to “Working for the Weekend,” a song by the Canadian Rock Band Loverboy, and to Canadian-American professor Witold Rybczinski’s book Waiting for the Weekend (1991).

“When one arrives at a job,” Vandehoek said, “it may seem after a couple of hours that nothing will change until retirement or death: “When we’re working to the grind, we learn how little time we have for ourselves in a world that worships work . . . . It’s not unreasonable to ask for an extra day off each week. Unremitting drudgery is a tragedy, a life unfulfilled.”

Vandenhoek jokingly said that, at some point in the original hunter-and-gatherer society, “the first mistake was someone planted a crop. Then the devil of work was created . . . The second mistake in history was to move work from the field to the factory. . . . Henry Ford brought about the five-day week, and that was our third mistake. Despite all our advances in technology, this set-up hasn’t changed.”

Reilly Fuller’s essay pointed out that society has made a mistake in casting aside the idea of multigenerational families. “I thought my parents were outdated and archaic, but there are many benefits to three generations in a home. Retirement homes cost $3,000 to $4,000 a month . . . . Mental health is improved if more family members are around . . . . Kids benefit from the companionship of grandparents . . . . There is a moral obligation to care for elders — an obligation to provide companionship to parents as they age.”

Carter Altrogge’s essay expressed concerns about the state of hockey in this country. “Kids these days have to f—–g toughen up,” he emphasized. “Body checking is part of hockey. Body checking was developed in the late 19th century.”

He went on to say, though, that basic care and awareness are still required. “Hockey players have to keep their heads up. You can be left with life-changing injuries.” He advised players to “focus on the puck and the goal and do not try to harm someone.”

“Once, a young player ended up with a broken neck. A 14-year-old is much bigger than an 11-year-old.”

In “Whimsical Madness” Janoah Fisher, a kinesiology student at CNC, described mix-ups and instances of missing connections with her boyfriend, Ethan, during a trip through Europe. At one unfamiliar train station, “he left me stranded . . . . He was my boyfriend, not my father.” So she ended up traveling alone. However, after some disconcerting mix-ups, they did find each other to continue on their journey.

Kenneth “Kenny” Jones read his essay titled “Consumed.”  He cautioned that a man who looks stoical might be suppressing strong feelings of brokenness.

“Can’t you see I want to be free?” he concluded.

Lizzie Van Bakell, a College Heights Secondary School student specializing in detective fiction, read her story, “The English Butcher.” The story featured a killer who aims for 13- to 19-year-olds. Victims are first ordered to write down their last words.

Owen MacDonald described almost surrealistic experiences arising from all-nighters and too many long hours cramming during exam week. “I walked into the forest, and it was like walking back through my childhood. There was a backpack under the table, with a notebook inside. There was drawing on the wall.”

Taylor Morley had written about how childhood trauma can come back to haunt a person: “I began my morning routine, but there was a man in the shadows . . . . I intended to escape out the window. Neighbours started up their mowers.”

Luke Watkins of Quesnel, a forestry student who started classes at CNC this past fall, read his story titled “The Mayo and the Mustard.” It focused on the hazards of travelling on Highway 97 to Prince George, arising in part from poor maintenance.

“You see a moose on the road,” he said. “You see evidence of a collision of flesh and steel.

“And travellers on Highway 97 are selfish and entitled — the worst drivers in the Central Interior . . . . Too many drivers pass other vehicles on a blind corner . . . . The worst thing is following too close.”

Rebecca Clark-Gray’ essay explored the power dynamics between father and daughter: “It can be a full-blown meltdown.”

Barry McKinnon spoke after intermission. He shared experiences behind his essay, “Fawcett, Blaser and Simon Fraser,” excerpted from his unpublished memoir, Chairs in the Time Machine.

“I published Brian’s book, Cottonwood Canyon, 47 years ago, and gave everyone a copy,” McKinnon said. “Everything I say is in memory of Brian Fawcett.

“It’s important to remember he was published in New York,” he continued. “He was a global writer. He used Prince George as a route to the universal.”

“Intelligence of perception is paramount. It doesn’t necessarily happen only in Vancouver, or at UNBC, for that matter.”

McKinnon noted that, at the start of his career at CNC, college administrators told him he’d have to teach the forestry class. “I didn’t like that,” he said. “Then they told me to teach the nurses.” McKinnon told the students to write about their experiences.

One topic was what was dangerous about the students’ jobs. “I got some amazing essays. They asked me what were the key words about an academic job. I answered, “Nervous breakdown.”

During a period of austerity, politicized downsizing and hostility against the arts, McKinnon’s job was on the line.

“In 1981, when I was fired — the actual terminology was ‘redundant’ — the forestry and nursing students came to my defence and saved my bacon . . . . It got violent . . . . The foresters took an axe to the principal’s door.

“I stayed another 10 years.”

His students were interested in Fawcett’s book, My Career With the Leafs, and were eagerly anticipating his visit to their class. The students thought he had actually played with that team. He didn’t, McKinnon told them: it was fiction.

“Fawcett came up here a lot,” McKinnon said. “He loved this town. He pointed out places where he’d worked as a teenager. . . .

“Poetry is the one place to let all the burners go,” he advised the students. “Prince George was the place to do it.”

Alexander Clark-Gray dealt with militant fundamentalism in his story, “Preacher, hear me now.” The preacher says, ‘You will all be judged. The second rapture will be on you all.”

Melanie Burnett’s story was titled “Bad Decisions.” She explored how women feel free to give advice to each other: “The girls poured out their hearts to each other . . . . One would tell another a boyfriend doesn’t deserve her.”

The title of Jeff Smedley’s chapbook was “The Ferryman.” The story was set in France in 1210: “For generations we were ferrymen on the river Aa, in what is now called France. Yes, there is a battle. Not between men, although there is a slaughter of many. The battle is of one’s spirit locked in a torturous state unable to change. There is Watten’s castle in ruins overlooking the river. There is a Kingsman, a cadet from the king’s service. There is a famous water spirit, a Nixie — far from home, seeking revenge.”

“And yes, there is my ancestor, Olivier.”

Smedley describes his ancestor, the ferryman, coming home to a rude dwelling where his mother and wife live. Grabbing his wife, Abigay, in his arms with a big bear hug, he tried to kiss her. Abigay pushed on his chest and said, “No, go wash up.”

They spend a peaceful evening together, but late at night they are aware of another presence in the home.

Jacob Cundy read a continuation of his saga “Office Lady” in a work world of 9-9-6, off his phone. “That’s what young people do nowadays,” he explained.

In the episode the office lady has struck a young man with her car, and he spent three days in hospital before he recovered. She felt obligated to meet with him afterwards.

“You are one sexy, foxy lady,” the young man tells her.

Margaret Klassen related that during Covid lockdowns she started playing Dungeons and Dragons. She imitated some UK accents describing some of the maneuvers.

Cory Fleck’s story was about a difficult escape.

After the event, many writers and students stayed to discuss the art of fiction and trends in popular literature.