There鈥檚 no shortage of acclaim for Anne Simpson鈥檚 writing. Her poetry collection Loop won the prestigious Griffin Poetry Prize in 2004 and was a Governor General鈥檚 Award finalist. Her novel Falling (鈥減oetic and illuminating鈥 according to a review in Quill & Quire) won the 2009 Dartmouth Book Award and was long-listed for the Dublin IMPAC Literary Award.
But long before the invitations for awards banquets started to arrive, she was a young mother with听two children under the age of two听living in a small town and stealing moments here and there to write.
鈥淚t was really hard to write but it was really good to write,鈥 says Ms. Simpson, who still lives in Antigonish although her daughters are university-aged and have moved from home for their studies. 鈥淚 know what it鈥檚 like to feel isolated.鈥
Which is why she feels so strongly about nurturing young writers. A poet, novelist and essayist, she is 麻豆传媒鈥檚 next writer-in-residence. She takes up the post with the Department of English and the Creative Writing Program听in January.
Her job will involve meeting aspiring writers one-on-one to provide feedback and advice on their work, whether poetry, fiction or creative nonfiction. She鈥檒l hold workshops on Monday evenings鈥攁lternating between poetry one week and fiction the next鈥攁s well as giving readings and hosting them.
鈥淚 have a strong sense of service to the community,鈥 she says. 鈥淧eople helped me鈥攁nd they continue to鈥攕o I鈥檓 conscious of wanting to give back.鈥
She鈥檚 no stranger to the writer-in-residence gig; having worked at the University of New Brunswick, Saskatoon Public Library and the University of Prince Edward Island. She was also the coordinator of the Writing Centre at St. Francis Xavier University for several years.
鈥淚t鈥檚 surprising what you can do in such a short time as someone who sees things from a different point of view.鈥
As writer-in-residence, she鈥檒l also devote some time to her own writing. She currently working on a novel inspired in part by her own experience in Nigeria as a CUSO volunteer. She lives her own advice鈥攖o 鈥渏ust do it.鈥
鈥淭he best thing, if you want to be a writer, is to spend a little bit of time each day sitting in a chair and writing,鈥 she says. 鈥淛ust do it, it doesn鈥檛 matter for how long, just do it.鈥
A large Yoruba woman climbed into the van, her turban brushing the door frame.听She patted it to make sure it was in place, and plumped herself down beside Clare, wiping the perspiration from her forehead with a delicate motion of her hand.听 鈥淕ood morning,鈥 said the woman, formally, opening her large purse and locating several bobby pins to keep her turban firmly in place. 鈥淚 am Adanya.鈥 鈥淐lare.听 Pleased to meet you.鈥 鈥淭he pleasure is mine, said Adanya.听 鈥淵ou are from where?鈥 From Canada.听 Nova Scotia. Adanya leaned forward, abruptly, to call through the open window, beckoning to a boy selling soft drinks. Her bosom pressed against Clare as she haggled over the price. She dropped some naira into a slim, child鈥檚 hand; it vanished and re-appeared with a can of Orange Crush. She took it, flipping the tab, and foam spurted on to Clare鈥檚 hand. 鈥淎i, ai, ai,鈥 cried Adanya.听 Sorry-O.鈥澨 鈥淒on鈥檛 worry about it.鈥澨 Clare licked her wrist. 鈥淣ovascotia,鈥 Adanya ran the words together, so they sounded fluid and smooth. 鈥淣ova Scotia, home of the Bluenose.听 I鈥檓 a Bluenoser.鈥 鈥淎h ha,鈥 Adanya bent forward, laughing.听 鈥淲hat did you say, now?鈥澨 鈥淭hat鈥檚 what we say鈥攖hat we鈥檙e Bluenosers.鈥澨 Adanya held her hand over her mouth. Tears came to her eyes. Clare couldn鈥檛 explain; she was laughing too much.听 鈥淵our nose鈥斺澨 Adanya gasped, one hand on her bosom as if to stop it from heaving. 鈥淚t is not blue.鈥 鈥 from Speechless, a novel in progress听by Anne Simpson |
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