I Survived Muskoka Novel Marathon 2012

Yes, I survived. More than that actually: I loved it! (MNM2012)

Imagine 72 hours to do nothing but write as much as you like. Heaven!! You could take time out to eat and sleep if you wanted/needed to. Meals were provided and prepared by and the lovely den mother Mieke, who even did our dishes afterwards (and didn't kick me out on the first day when I spilled my coffee).

On top of it all is knowing that while you’re there writing you're raising money for the YMCA Literacy Services. This will allow you to feel fine about ignoring your family for the whole time (because you get up before they do and you come home after they’re all in bed--heh heh. Thank you, family, for being so amazing and understanding.). And thank you so much to my sponsors. I'll be sending you individual thank you letters. All together the writers this year raised an astounding $14,572.50 last I heard.!!

I admit that I was a bit worried going in. I mean, me, write a novel? I wasn’t sure there was a story of novel length proportions in me. Okay, so I’m still not sure the story is worth anything but my amusement in writing it, but who cares at this point? I went in with an initial idea, and I came out with 60 pages written and a workable outline to keep going with. Here's my 60 page milestone ribbon (and note how there are others much bigger than mine).

For someone who writes at home in the (mostly) quiet it was scary to think about writing in a crowded room. But with the help of my iPod and some playlists it worked out just fine. I was focussed when I wanted to be and distracted when I wanted to be.

Susan Blakeney

The wonderful writer to the right of me was Susan Blakeney, who taught me that physically acting out things can really help you. And she is an amazingly prolific writer in that she STARTED AND COMPLETED her novel at the marathon. Wow.

Cathy Olliffe-Webster

The wonderful writer to the left of me was Cathy Olliffe-Webster, who is an amazingly brave and funny writer who demonstrated the power of perseverance because during the marathon she was able to write the ending of her novel--a goal which had alluded her in the past. Way to go, Cathy!

View beyond my keyboard

It was energizing to be with such a diverse group of writers, some of whom I knew going in and some I didn’t. I've definitely added to my "to be read" pile.

(LtoR) Kimberley Ann Sparks, Cheryl Cooper, Sharon Ledwith, Lena Coakley, Lori Twining

I didn’t submit my manuscript to the judges for the contest portion. Walking away with a huge chunk of a draft completed and a workable outline was reward enough for me. Thanks to Karen Wehrstein and Paula Boon and Dawn Huddlestone for all their work organizing the marathon. Check out the storify of the mnm Dawn put together: http://storify.com/MuskokaNovel/mnm-2012

Most memorable moments:

• Anne Millyard dropped in!
• Creme brulee from Spencer's Tall Trees--I went back for seconds
• Watching Sandra act out being very pregnant (thanks to a well placed pillow) and getting down to and up from the floor so Susan could see how that action would play out.
• The guy who stuck his head into a quiet room of writers writing and announced "It was a dark and stormy night--There, start with that." Groan. He was chased down for a donation.
• The three cats I narrowly avoided hitting on three separate drives to/from the marathon.
• Realizing it's truly astounding how many times some people stir their coffee before drinking it.
• The slurping, gushing noises of Karen's green tea thermos which she could not hear thanks to her noise cancelling headphones.

And some other random shots:

They provided all the essentials--earplugs, ibuprofen, antacids, bookmarks, and popcorn!

We all donated to the marathon to thank Mieke (in red) for looking after us all weekend

What a goody bag! Loved the pipe cleaners and playdough.

Susan decorated my water bottle and christened it "Swamp Water" 

Look at all those 10 page milestones people had!

Marathon Madness?

What have I gotten myself into? I must be mad. This weekend I’m participating in the Muskoka Novel Marathon. A whole 72 hours to do nothing but write. A novel. And I’ve never written one before. (I don’t think that fantasy adventure I started writing in high school should count, do you? Besides, I quit after about 2,000 words.)

I’ve always had some excuse to myself for not writing a novel even though I have plenty of half baked ideas. So the fact that I’ve committed myself to devoting three days to writing a crappy novel first draft scares me. Okay, I will have to sleep in there and I have to minus the time to attend my niece’s wedding. But that still leaves me a decent two and a half days. And I’ll be in a room full of other writers all doing the same thing! Will it be intimidating or motivating to see everyone around me writing away? I guess I'll find out.

But here’s the other great component to this event: we’re all raising money for the Simcoe-Muskoka YMCA’s literacy programs. All participants are asked to collect donations for the YMCA. Here is my Canada Helps donation page where online donations are accepted (if you take that as a hint or invitation I won't object) and you get an instant tax receipt.

Between my paper pledges and my online donation form it looks like I’ve reached my minimum fundraising goal. That makes me happy. Now here’s hoping at a minimum I can get some ideas flowing this weekend, and keep them flowing for the whole event and beyond. That would make me very happy. And maybe, at a minimum, I would prove to myself that I'm not mad.

Brian Henry Bestseller Workshop

My lovely purple workshop notes

On Saturday I went to Brian Henry's How to Write a Bestseller workshop in Gravenhurst. I really enjoyed it. It was good to think at an objective or macro level about what makes a compelling story, a sympathetic hero, a realistic villain, and so on.

Of course, part of the workshop involved an exercise in writing. I must be the only writer I know who dislikes doing writing exercises at workshops. I'm not sure what's with me on that. Anyway, I have to say, once I got going I really did start to enjoy it. Maybe I'm just a little bit rusty because it's been awhile since I wrote longer narrative fiction (been writing short poetic prose lately).

It was truly fascinating to hear what some of the other writers had written for that exercise. As for my exercise, it sort of dovetailed with an idea I've been mulling over for a middle grade novel. My piece hinged on the content of a text message the hero was trying to conceal. I quite like that idea, but here's my problem: I have actually no clue what the content of that text message is. And I think it's kind of important.

So hopefully my brain mulls that one over for awhile. The workshop was a good kicker for me to begin thinking in a longer format than I've written up to this point. It's getting me to think about what I'm going to write for, oh, July's (whisper) Muskoka Novel Marathon in which I have to work on writing a novel for a whole entire weekend--eep! Nothing like a writer setting herself up for a huge and intimidating challenge...but it's also all in the name of raising money for literacy, and that's always a good cause.

Spying on my Illustrator

I have to confess that I've been peeking at some of Ashley Barron's illustration works-in-progress for our new nonfiction picture book series which begins this fall with OwlKids. I can do this because Ashley keeps a blog, and sometimes she blogs about her work ... and sometimes the work looks a bit familiar.

But I respect the industry norm that I'm not to comment on the art to the illustrator. I wait until my editor sends me the actual roughs if they want my comments. And, seeing as it's non-fiction, they do let me see the roughs. If I have comments I use the proper channel.

Still, I can't resist popping by her blog once in awhile. If she's sharing something I think it's okay to leave a positive comment, too, occasionally. And it's not like she's trying to avoid me since she did like my Facebook Page. These days it's so easy to look up someone your publisher partners you with for a book project. We all do it, don't we? Um, well, don't we?

What do you think? Should I avoid looking? Look but don't comment? Wait until the whole project is done and then interact? Am I making too much of this (non)issue? It's okay, you can tell me.

Page 41, Painting, and Politics

World leaders' paintbrushes

It's not often that one of the books I've written as a work for hire project ends up having something that's close to my daily life in it. That's because a work for hire book has been thought of and planned out by someone else and I just fulfill the project parameters.

But this small life/project overlap happened with a photo on page 41 of a few world leaders talking at the G8 Summit in Huntsville, Ontario in my book The Legacy of the War of 1812. And the overlap? This world leaders' meeting happened in my corner of the world and I see a commemorative display to this particular G8 quite regularly.

Painting containing world leaders' brush strokes

It's  a wall display of a painting and the paintbrushes used by the world leaders when they added their brush strokes to the artwork. The artwork itself is a large wall mural replica of a famous Group of Seven painting. I made myself stop and look at it carefully not too long ago. Usually I walk right by it as I hurry to and from the community centre for my kids' sporting activities. But I was glad I decided to stop and really look at this display for once.

There's a nice YouTube video of part of the process of the leaders actually adding their colors here. And there's lots of information behind the whole Group of Seven Outdoor Gallery mural project, which puts mural sized replicas of Group of Seven paintings all over parts of Muskoka, available online.

So what's my point? Don't know. It's nice to see painting and politicians mix. Most likely the photo on page 41 just happened because it was a recent current event...or maybe the universe is telling me to stop and admire paintings more often.

Dedication Dilemma

Oh happy day when I realized I needed to write a dedication to Counting on Fall, my forthcoming Fall 2012 picture book. But then I realized I had a dilemma.

How do I dedicate it to someone without offending someone else? The first book I got to dedicate to anybody was easy. It was Let's Go! The Story of Getting from There to Here and I dedicated it to my mom and dad. I mean, as a first dedication who could blame an author for dedicating it to their parents, right?

Now, though, the choices expand: kids, hubby, two crit group friends who've been with me a long, long time, other writers who have encouraged me, fabulous editors, two sisters, nieces and nephews.... Yeah.

But the more I thought about it the more I felt like I had to recognize my immediate family. You know, those people who live with me day in and day out and put up with my various moods, various piles of laundry left unfolded around the house, various thrown together meals because I was too busy writing all day, various other chores left undone, and so on.

Even in my immediate family there are several people to choose from. So who is first? Uh-oh. But the concept of first rattles around in my brain:

• interestingly Counting on Fall is the first of a series 
• and it's about counting, so the concept of first is in there 
• and I have a firstborn child 
• and I like to write my dedications in a way that they have a bit to do with the book itself (as opposed to just a "To Soandso") 

Is this all starting to gel?

But what about the other three books in the series? Three? Why yes, I have two more kids and a hubby which of course equals three more people. This is looking better and better.

Now what about alluding to the book content in the book's dedication? I roughed out some ideas for matching content to people...yes, it might work!

So I wrote the first dedication as an allusion to firsts for my firstborn and it's now set in stone. I'll have to do the second one shortly and I'll have my fingers crossed that this plan works out.

And from there, because I don't want anyone to feel left out, I guess I'll just hope I have to face more dedication dilemmas in the future.

Cabin Fever But By a Better Name

At the library the other day we kept a couple ladies waiting when we opened the library doors a few minutes late. (We were having a health and safety talk). So we got to talking with those ladies about how much the library is needed in peoples' lives in our small community—for a minute there they were thinking we weren't going to open, and that would be a bad thing. One of the ladies even suggested that the library was essential because she lives in the bush, and without the human interaction the library provides she'd easily go shack wacky.

Say what?

Uh-huh, shack wacky. I'd never heard that expression before. My writer's brain turned the phrase over, tasted it, tested it. A new expression! A funny expression! An expression that succinctly and superbly expressed its meaning.

Okay, so you're probably thinking I'm acting a little shack wacky for gushing over a couple of words. But part of the fun of being a writer is collecting these little tidbits wherever you can. No, it's not a new expression as I see it's out there and part of the urban dictionary. But it was new to me. I would've just used the term I was more familiar with: cabin fever. But isn't there an interesting difference in feel, in nuance, to the two expressions? Yes, I'm tucking "shack wacky" away for future use. Maybe you'd like to, too.

So yes, believe those PSAs because it really is true: you never know what you'll learn at your library.

A Big Backstory

Last Friday morning I walked my son into the high school's office to sign him in as late. The first secretary looked up and pointed out the late registration secretary around the corner of the desk. This second secretary looked up from her keyboard and said, “Is the reason for the lateness: family, weather, an appointment, or something else?”

Um...what? Which category? Which one category? My brain couldn't process that. My reasons fit into a bunch of those categories. In fact, I had a whole backstory full of reasons. So I stood there like an idiot. How the heck could I distill my morning to fit into just one category? So out spilled the whole sorry story.

What I told them went something like this:

I got up early, got the girls breakfast and drove [in treacherous snowy weather] to skating rink for 7am. I found out my son had missed the bus because hubby was stuck in a ditch and didn't get home to wake him up. After arranging for another mom to take the girls to school, I drove [in treacherous snowy weather] past home to find hubby at the roadside getting his vehicle towed. I drove [in treacherous snowy weather] hubby home to change clothes, also picked up son, and drove [in treacherous snowy weather] to town to drop hubby at a critically important appointment in one end of town and then drove [in treacherous snowy weather] to the other end of town to sign son in at school. And I needed to leave immediately because I had to drive back home [in treacherous snowy weather] to the village library where I was now likely to be a few minutes late for my annual job evaluation, after which time I could expect hubby’s text so I could drive back into town [in treacherous snowy weather] to pick him up, and then drive [in treacherous snowy weather] back home again. Did I mention that town and home are like 20 minutes apart in good weather?

Gad, no wonder those secretaries laughed at me. And no wonder no one wants to have an entire backstory dumped on them at once.

You know you might be a children's writer if...

There you are, sitting on the hard white wooden bench in your small town arena lobby. You're reading quietly, passing the time during your son's hockey practice, while two young boys you don't know toss a small ball back and forth across the lobby. Back and forth, back and forth, they chase the ball, toss it, chase it, and so on until--

The arena doors open with a clatter and a woman walks in. One of the boys calls out to her with an enthusiastic, "Hi, Bitch!" (Which sounds a bit like "hiya beetch!")

Silence.

A silence in which you cringe for the boy.

"What did you say?" the woman, finding her voice, demands. She repeats her demand several times in increasingly higher volumes.

The boy wisely stays silent.

Finally the woman orders him to SIT THERE on THAT BENCH and DON'T MOVE.

He perches timidly beside you, head bent, sitting on his hands. You just want to hug him.

Do you empathize with the mother having to hear that from her child? Not really. You feel for the boy. You bet he's seen someone greet a friend that way on some TV show, or heard it uttered by an older kid, and the reaction was much different from the one he got.

Yes, if this happens you just might be a children's writer. And there might be a story there....somewhere.

Aw, Nuts!

How many of you who write for young kids find yourselves the recipient of requests to change your text because of sexual innuendos in your writing? Oh, come on. You know it's happened!

I'm here standing up (har) to say I am not afraid to admit that it's happened to me a few times. (I mean, I wrote a book titled "Let's Go!"?? Come ON! You can just picture the nudge-nudge, wink-winks.)

I just agreed to change a line in a forthcoming picture book from:
Can you count each squirrel's nuts?
to
How many nuts has each squirrel gathered?

Not a big change in intent, but probably a little less titter inducing. But grade two humor will rule no matter what. Just say the word 'nuts' and they'll probably be rolling in the back row. But I don't mind that reaction from an audience. It gets the kids/class involved, no? Books are fun. Books are funny!

You can call me naive for not picking up on these types of innuendoes on a more regular basis. But I also know that just about anything can be an innuendo if you want it to be. I always remember a lecture from one of my university professors that pointed out that the English language will always refer to the sexual in the absence of a concrete noun. Even you will titter if I write:
I want it.
I like it.
You need it.
no matter that I'm referring to chocolate. (Damn, what were you thinking???)

But I will consider softening an obvious innuendo if my editors asks. I'm not completely nuts.

So that's my rant for the day--a day which kicks off the last long weekend of summer. Have a good one!  (nudge-nudge, wink-wink)

Directions or Descriptions?

Ah, Muskoka. Where I live. And where directions to someone's place are more like descriptions. They include phrases such as:

• I do not know her address 
• She lives on This Road off of That Road 
• It is on the left hand side a little ways past the dam 
• There is a red sign but it's spelled wrong 
• You go down that road past the house on the right to the next house on the right 

and then a phone number "in case you get confused."

Which I did.

So I had a nice detour down a remote rut and crater infested road I'd never driven before. The shoulders were either non-existent or so soft and squishy I feared executing a 3-pointer would mire the Odyssey in mud. I followed the road all the way to the end before turning around. But I got to my destination.

Descriptions. They lead to places you've never been before. Isn't that what writing is all about?

Did I Imagine That?

I had a great phone call from an editorial director a couple weeks ago. I think.

Okay, I'm kidding. I know it happened, but I feel as if I'm in a bit of limbo.
Like a timeout in a hockey game.
Like the Jeopardy thinking music is going on.

Because I'm waiting for further direction on the manuscript/proposal that generated that phone call and a verbal assurance of a contract to come. Yay! Good thing I've about a bazillion things to keep myself occupied while I am patiently awaiting further instructions and paper proof I'm not living an illusion.

But there is a little part of me that wonders if it was all just wishful thinking.

Anyone else do this to themselves?

Think Spring: SCBWI in Niagara Falls, Ontario!

I'm soooo tired of winter, of either being sun deprived or freezing, so I'm going to focus on spring for a moment.

You know I'm involved in SCBWI's Canada East chapter, right? (Full disclosure: actually I'm the Regional Advisor.) I'm really looking forward to this spring's conference in Niagara Falls, Ontario. This year a volunteer stepped forward and offered to be the conference coordinator for our spring event. I'd met her at our fall retreat and things went from there. Super huge thanks to writer Jackie Pynaert for stepping forward to spearhead this huge undertaking!

Writers: you know you want to join us! Here are the details:

SCBWI Canada East Niagara Falls Retreat and Conference

May 13-15, 2011
Niagara Falls, Ontario
www.carmelniagara.com

Featuring:
Josh Adams, Agent, Adams Literary
Hilary Van Dusen, Senior Editor, Candlewick Press
Alan Jones, Art Director, HarperCollins Canada
Authors: Terri Farley, Sydney Salter, Fran Cannon Slayton, Veronica Rossi

Find the complete registration package on the SCBWI Canada East website or our Chapter's page at scbwi.org.

Hope to see some of you there, and please feel free to spread the word.

Writer Frustrated

Why are the manuscripts that look simple when finished almost always the hardest to arrive at?

Why is the approach that elicits an “Aha, that’s so simple!” so damned difficult to get to?

Makes doing some mindless chore like washing the dishes seem so much easier: apply water and soap and voila--desired result.

Yep, off to tackle the mountain of dishes left from yesterday.

Of Politics and Poop

So last week I was out driving and I came across a municipal election sign with a toilet seat draped over it. How eloquent!
I laughed so hard I nearly drove off the narrow road.

I couldn't take a picture of that particular sight, much as I wanted to. I felt it wouldn't be fair to the candidate because there was no way to hide the identity of the beseated individual. But now that the election is over and all the signs have disappeared from the landscape, I keep thinking about this incident. It brings to mind a story starting point.

What if a kid saw someone had done that to his or her parent's election sign? Do you want your parent to be mayor? Would this make you angry or make you ready to die of embarrassment? Or what if this happened to a teen's election sign if they were running for high school or class president? Would you get to the bottom (pun intended) of who did it? Would you ignore it? Laugh it off? Stew in silence? Hmmm.

Okay, so you'd have to add a lot more. But it's a start. Go run with it.

Patience and Published in Ladybug Magazine

Ladybug, October 2010

My short story is finally published in Ladybug magazine! October 2010!
Why the word finally up there? Cause I've waited a long time. You know how writers are told you have to have patience in this business? I signed the contract for this story in 2004.

I'm not particularly bothered by that, although it's always nice to see your work in print quickly. But I've been a magazine editor and I know that sometimes editors have to wait for the right issue to slot a piece into in order to ensure that each issue you put together is a pleasing and cohesive whole.

This story, published under the title "Katie Kicks," was inspired by my daughter and her first attempts at playing soccer. She was dressed in her lovely clean white team shirt and black shorts. She held her very own soccer ball proudly. She was looking forward to it. And then we arrived at the field and she wouldn't even set foot on to the small patch of grass they'd set out for her team. She watched her teammates but she was too shy to join in herself. It really affected me. I struggled with feelings of understanding where she was coming from as well as a tinge of embarrassment as a parent that my child wasn't out there like the others. So I went home and jotted down my thoughts about this and it eventually became a short story. From her point of view though, not mine.

Now that it's in print I'm very pleased. I can't wait to see it myself. I've combed the stores looking for the issue but it's nowhere to be found. So I will just have to be patient awhile more while I wait for my authors copies to arrive.

The Missing Milkweeds

 So how's this for a bit of irony.

In trying out a camera I figured I'd attempt to get some closeups of the milkweeds at the end of my driveway. I love that plant. It's so full of textures: the plump velvety leaves, the sticky milky sap, the rubbery pink flower clusters of spring; the knobbly green pods, the black-and-orange beetles and monarch caterpillars that snack on it in summer; the soft downy fluff that flies from the dried papery pods in fall. So anyway, I got some okay shots, which you can see here. I figured I could see how they turned out and if they were dreck I could go back later to take some more. So here's where the irony comes in.

It's a good thing I took a picture of those milkweed pods because now they're missing! The photos are all I've got left.

On (Canadian) Thanksgiving Sunday I drove out my driveway only to find a car parked crosswise at the end blocking my exit. Some guy was fingering a small pine tree growing at the side of my driveway and his apparent wife or female companion was bagging up the milkweed pods!

I rolled down my window and asked them what they were doing. Alright it was obvious but I had to ask.

The woman laughed sheepishly and said she was just gathering the milkweeds. Yeah, like I said, that was obvious. I could see she'd gathered quite a few in her bag. I asked her to leave some for us thank you. Meanwhile, the man had gone to his car and moved it so I could get out of my own driveway. I wasn't moving. Not till they left. Nope. Not budging.

The woman continued to gather for a few more moments. I really was astounded. Then she got into their car and drove off. So now I hardly have any milkweeds left AT ALL! Like, maybe two or three pods (not plants) at the most. These ones in the photos? GONE!

I wouldn't have minded so much if she'd only taken a few and then driven on down the road and taken a few from another patch and so on and so on leaving no patch destitute. But she pretty much cleaned me out. So now while we wait for the school bus we have no ghostly patches of down to filter the rising morning sun, no fluffy parachutes to launch into the sky. Milkweeds were kind of a fall ritual for me and my kids.

Okay, rant over and now I feel better. It's a minor thing, I know. But sometimes it's the little things in life that get to you, you know? Little things—at once both little and hugely important. And it's the little things a writer adds to a character or to a setting that make for the best stories, I think. So go, and may you sow the seeds of your own milkweeds in your manuscripts.

Still Slacking into September

I've been AWOL! How did that happen?

A story to illustrate the state of the union chez moi. The kids came home from one of the first few days of school last week with this story. Paraphrasing:

"Mommy, the exhaust pipe fell off the bus this morning so we had to get on the high school bus and she turned the wrong way on the highway and then we had to do the last part of our route backwards."

Disclaimer: wrong way means not the way the route should go, not as in going south in the northbound lane, which sadly happens a few times a year around here.

What does that illustrate? It's like a metaphor for my writing life the last couple months!

Yep, my exhaust pipe fell off somewhere. What writing have I done recently? Ahem, nothing. Between volunteer jobs taking over my life, going to work very part time (more on that in another post), dealing with regular family maintenance, and stupid allergies that make me look and feel like I've had about 2 hours sleep--oh wait a second, sometimes that might be true--I haven't had an inch of head space for writing projects.

And now I feel guilty about that. 

You know all that writing advice that says stuff like just write? make it a priority? you've got to treat it like a job? do it everyday? writers write? just plant your heiney in a chair and get writing? Yeah, I hear it and it makes sense but when I just can't manage it I feel like a bit of a failure.

Sometimes your family has to come first. Sometimes they need to be fed. Sometimes they need you to help them put Barbie's hair in a ponytail. Sometimes you have to work to make money to pay the bills. Sometimes you have to step up to help with extra curricular activities your kids love or they won't be available. Sometimes you just have to catch a few moments enjoying the sunshine and your flowers and watch the vibrant green of summer turn to the mellow gold of fall or you'll go insane. 

But I'm trying to claw my way back to writing. Maybe now that the kids are back into a school routine I might have a bit more time to write some days. Maybe the volunteer duties will settle down for a bit. Maybe the first frost will come soon and kill all the nasal and sinus irritating pollen producing plants. 

My return to writing feels awkward and sporadic and like I'm coming at it all backwards right now. But maybe one day I'll find all this supposed distraction sowed some good seeds, gave me some fantastic fodder, for future writing. Or am I just kidding myself? 

Time will tell. But in the meantime, if you're a writer who sometimes feel like this, let's not beat ourselves up too much. Okay?

He Did What?

I just finished a YA novel and it was an interesting read. Except one thing bugged me. It was a little thing, a tiny thing even. But it jumped out at me and clobbered me over the head. And I swear I came across it three separate times in the book.

What was this tiny annoyance? It was this peculiar descriptive action I've never noticed in a book before. The descriptive action had a character doing this: sanding his hands together.

It stopped me short in my reading. Well, okay, that's unusual, it brings to mind a carton villain, but I could get past it. The first time. But the second? Then the third?

I enjoyed the book for the most part, but for me this is now the book where the guy sands his hands together. It's made the biggest impression on me. Can you overuse a quirky description or action or is it just me? I suspect it's an individual response.

Do these types of tiny details ever take over a story for you?

New Views, Two Views

I’ve been contemplating some info I learned through one of my volunteer activities. Although said activity has nothing to do with writing, the info itself can be useful to writers, I think. 

I was in Toronto (Hi, CN Tower!) at the Skate Canada annual convention a few weeks ago and attended a workshop titled “New Web Strategies.” You can’t beat sports when it comes to expertise in fans and technology, right? 

The workshop was given by Kevin Albrecht of iSport Media and Management. He went over the current landscape in consumption of sport product and internet usage, and how to make use of this to promote and build a community...to eventually make money of course. 

The community being referred to was the community of skaters or skating clubs and organizations and fans, but presumably the community could be any group of individuals with similar interests. Maybe like, say, followers of certain books or authors.

First, it’s kind of obvious, but we were told the goal of any business is to produce content, distribute the content, and somehow make money from that. Whereas in the past the distribution channels for sport were limited to a couple options (TV mostly and only a couple channels at that) now there are hundreds of options for distributing content. Hey, sound familiar my publishing pals? 

Into this new world of distribution options comes these facts:

•  Canadians spend more time online and view more content online than any other country in the world 
•  Canadians spend more time online than in front of the TV 
•  Internet penetration in Canada is 72%; in the USA it’s 62%

Pretty obvious digital content is becoming very important. Add to this a study that found how people view websites. He said a study of 1.36 million internet users found the eye tracks a website this way: across the top, down the left and across the middle/bottom. You have 2.4 seconds to grab a visitor’s attention.

What does that mean?

• This dictates where your important information and/or big advertising spots on your website should go 
• You need new content regularly to give people a reason to come back to your site (so quit taking blog holidays already, sheesh!)

Some interesting predictions were: 

• live streaming from just about anywhere will become a reality as people live stream events from their own phones and send that to a website of their choosing
• apps to a closed community will be worth the most money (so eg. a skating club app with schedule, news, competition results, live streaming of competitions or events, etc) 

So will we soon see author apps?

I bet it'll start out with the big guys, those who are big enough to warrant interest in appearances, opinions, news of forthcoming books, etc. Maybe later on it will filter down or come down in price for those of us with a more modest presence.

Food for thought, no? 

Sure made me think. It was fun to step outside my regular writing mindset. I was glad I went on a number of levels. Besides, this easily-fascinated-by-forms-of-transportation gal got to enjoy this view from my hotel room. Airplanes took off from the runway, and there are sailboats, ferry boats, and a water taxi. Yes, this view was pretty easy to take.

But at the banquet I kinda wish I'd never had this view. Who wants a big ole castor canadensis looming over an otherwise stellar dinner? 

(Yeah, it's standing on the floor and that's the ballroom CEILING and part of one of those gargantuan projection screens on the right.) Apparently they'll make a big inflatable anything these days.