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Chad PelleyPelley tips his hat to acclaimed Atlantic authors

Right in the middle of this year’s fall awards bonanza, I was told there’d be a history theme in the holiday issue of Atlantic Books Today. I thought a jolly tip of the hat to Atlantic Canadians who’ve made book award history might be a nice article.

Did you know, for example, that the very first winner of Canada’s esteemed Governor General’s award for poetry was Newfoundland’s EJ Pratt? He won it in 1937 for his book, The Fable of the Goats and Other Poems. Pratt, by the way, won this award three times in his career.

The first work of fiction by an Atlantic Canadian to win the GG was Thomas Head Raddall’s The Pied Piper of Dipper Creek, in 1943. Many will recognize his name because of the prestigious Writers’ Federation of Nova Scotia award named in his honour. The Thomas Head Raddall Award goes every year to the best book of fiction by an Atlantic Canadian. Its most recent winner was Russell Wangersky, who is also the first male author to win it with a book of short stories. Wayne Johnston holds the record for being the first Atlantic Canadian to win this award twice (for The Divine Ryans and The Colony of Unrequited Dreams), although David Adams Richards has also won twice. While no one is yet to have won it three times, Donna Morrissey has also tied Wayne with two wins, for her novels Downhill Chance and Sylvanus Now.

The Giller Prize is our country’s glitziest, most glamorous literary award, and Nova Scotia’s Leo McKay Jr. was the first Atlantic Canadian to be shortlisted for this award (for his collection, Like This). It took six years from the award’s inception for an Atlantic Canadian to finally win us a Giller Prize, and what a beautiful book it was: David Adams Richards’ Mercy Among the Children. Fun fact: this occurred in the year 2000, which remains the only year there was a tie for first place. Given the controversy over the decision, it’s unlikely this will ever happen again. David shared the honour with Michael Ondaatje’s Anil’s Ghost. Linden MacIntyre, for The Bishop’s Man, and Johanna Skibsrud, for The Sentamentalists, are the only other Atlantic Canadians to have won the award.

Arguably, the only thing better than winning the country’s biggest literary award is to have been a finalist for the award a whopping five times, like Wayne Johnston has been. Since the Giller Prize was founded in 1994, every single one of Wayne’s novels has been at least longlisted for the award. Lisa Moore and David Adams Richards aren’t far behind Wayne’s record, with three nods apiece.

Not to make this article all about Wayne, but he was also the first Atlantic Canadian to be shortlisted for the third major Canadian literary award, the esteemed Rogers Writers’ Trust Fiction Prize. However, Kenneth J. Harvey remains the first, and only, Atlantic Canadian to have won this award.

As Atlantic Books Today goes to press, Lynn Coady and Lisa Moore are poised to be the first female Atlantic writers to win this award. Something tells me one of them will have won it by the time this article is in print and in your hands.

Editors note: This article was originally publishing in the Holiday 2013 issue of Atlantic Books Today. Lynn Coady won the Giller that year.

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Chad Pelley

In his last regular column with us, Chad Pelley reflects on the vision and verve of Atlantic Canadian publishers

There is a theme of history running through this issue of Atlantic Books Today, so what better time to reflect on and celebrate Atlantic Canadian publishing? Because there was a time when most Atlantic-published books had their readership and acclaim anchored to our eastern shores, but that time has sailed. 

One long-standing and notable feature of our publishing scene is the absence of international houses on our soil, like Random House, Penguin or HarperCollins, whose biggest books of the year, the ones they really push, are by authors from the UK, USA or India.  By contrast, virtually every Atlantic publisher is independent, publishing almost exclusively Canadian authors and, particularly, writers local to their provinces. 

But how much do authors benefit from signing book deals with our hometown houses, in terms of readership and acclaim? It’s a fair question, because you can write a brilliant book, but, if no one knows it exists, how can they buy it? 

If success with awards is one way to measure how well Atlantic publishers are doing, then Halifax-based Invisible Publishing is worth a mention. Invisible is relatively young, but a proven source for hip new CanLit (Anna Quon, Dani Couture, Andrew Hood), and its steady momentum culminated in a Giller Prize longlisting last year, for Elisabeth de Mariaffi’s How to Get Along with Women. She’s since signed an impressive international book deal for her forthcoming novel, The Devil You Know (HarperCollins Publishers). So, can publishing with Invisible Books launch your career in a big way? Yes, and they’ve proven it.

Pedlar Press in St. John’s has achieved its reputable status by eschewing considerations of “saleability” when acquiring a book – it focuses 100% on literary merit and originality in hope that those qualities will shine through for readers. This selection process is working: Pedlar is no stranger to award short lists and trophies, even those as esteemed as the Governor General or the Pat Lowther Memorial Award. In 2011, Pedlar won in 2 of 3 categories for the ReLit Awards, and Souvankham Thammavongsa won this year’s Trillium Book Award for Poetry. 

Equally important in the evaluation of a publisher is whether or not they’re “in” with media and festival organizers. How else are we to reach readers in other provinces? Getting books reviewed and authors appearing country-wide requires a driven publicity staff with verve, vision and passion. Like the crew at Breakwater Books in St. John’s or Goose Lane Editions in Fredericton, NB, who have charmed their way into the good books of festival directors nation wide and editors at Canada’s powerhouse publications like Quill & Quire, the Globe and Mail and the National Post. 

Thanks to its massive population, and the fact that most national media outlets are situated there, Toronto will always be the heart of the book industry, and books published there will by proxy be on the radars of more readers and editors. But it’s nice to see so many Atlantic publishers with their gloves on, fighting that geographical reality. 

The internet is certainly helping their efforts by making the world a whole lot smaller and more connected. Undoubtedly, the shareability of links through social media has played a big role in helping Atlantic publishers reach a wider audience with their authors’ books – a phenomenon only five or six-years-old that may have finally given us a level playing ground. 

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Chad PelleyIn which our Chad Pelly shares how to love what you’re reading

Whether it’s because I’m an author or book blogger, people think I’m a good source of recommendation for books. Fair enough. If you’re friends with a mechanic, and your car’s not sounding good, of course you ask the mechanic for help. But asking an author what books to read doesn’t translate, because asking anyone but yourself what to read next is no way to love what you’re reading. Much like choosing who you marry, choosing what you read is a matter of personal taste, as we all want something different from a book.

More than any industry, the book industry runs on power of suggestion. Last year, everyone was reading Fifty Shades of Grey, simply because everyone was reading Fifty Shades of Grey, and not because everyone was saying they liked it. As I type this article, last fall’s Giller Prize winner, 419, is atop Canada’s bestseller lists, simply for having won the Giller. A three-person jury declared it Canada’s best novel, but for all of us to trust them so wholeheartedly implies we must all share tastes with that three-person jury. I doubt that’s the case, the same way I doubt we all share that jury’s taste in ice cream or music. The purpose of a book award is to help writers bolster their bios and careers, and to provide them with some money so they can squirrel away and write another book. They’re great for putting books on our radar, absolutely, but the fundamental purpose an award is not to convince 50,000 readers—with varied tastes—that a book has universal appeal.

If it’s not book awards that sway us, it’s store-bought buzz, literally. When you walk into a place like Chapters or Coles and see a table promising you “This Season’s Hottest Fiction,” that’s not a matter of opinion. A publisher has bought that display table, the same way they buy billboards and ad space in magazines. But you, like me, often fall for it. Award shortlists, media hype, marketing power—and once in a blue moon, literary merit—culminate in the third flawed way that most of us choose what books we buy: bestseller lists. It’s been my experience that bestseller lists seldom have their finger of the pulse of what the best books of the year really are, but rather, as the title promises, it lists the ones that are selling the best. There’s a difference. I find buying books off a bestseller list yields a 50-50 chance I’ll like the book. How about you?

The purpose of this article is to illustrate that if you rely on hype to find your next book, you limit yourself to ten per cent of what exists, and you limit yourself to the opinions of others. I firmly believe that every reader should be finding their own next book. The right first step in this regard is to go directly to the source of new books, and familiarize yourself with Canada’s publishers. As always, it pays to have favourites, because favourites seldom let us down—be it comfort foods, go-to music, or comfy sweaters. I know my favourite publishers—House of Anansi, Coach House, Invisible, and Breakwater—and their yearly offerings rarely let me down. So go to your bookcase, find the last few books you loved, run your finger down the spine, and take note of the publisher who published it.

The most successful, vibrant Canadian publishers brand themselves as reliable sources of what they deem to be good books. As a result, it’s fair to say that every publisher has its own taste in books. If you become acquainted with the tastes of every Canadian publisher, you’ll know whom you share tastes with. One great reason to find yourself a few favourite publishers is simple: books come out in batches every spring and fall, therefore, you can go to your favourite publishers’ websites every February and August, and see what they’re putting out every season, and never be at a loss for what to buy next.

That said, there is something nice and convenient about a good old fashion recommendation, as they’re sincere, and, if you trust the person’s opinion, they’re reliable. If you want my opinion, here are the three spring releases by Atlantic Canadians that I’m positive will be worth all of our time. Lisa Moore’s Caught (House of Anansi) Darren Greer’s Just Beneath My Skin (Cormorant Books), and Shashi Bhat’s The Family Took Shape (Cormorant Books). And, well, I’ve got one out myself that I’d love you to read, called Every Little Thing (Breakwater Books).

This story was originally published in the spring 2013 issue of Atlantic Books Today

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Chad PelleyIf there’s one thing I learned from his stories it was that literature isn’t about plot – it’s a commentary on life

The trouble with writing about Alistair MacLeod’s contribution to Atlantic Canadian literature is that anyone who met the man will want to talk reverently about Alistair himself, and try and put his ethereal presence into words. But I know that if I tried I’d fail, which is a testament to his character.

Like many, I was introduced to his work in a first year university course, and if there’s one thing I learned from his stories it was that literature isn’t about plot – it’s a commentary on life. I was a biology student, but studying MacLeod’s work showed me how literature, not biology, is a truer study of life.

His impact on Atlantic Canada’s literary landscape is obvious and uncontested – he’s won national and international awards, and No Great Mischief was voted the no. 1 Atlantic Canadian book of all time in Atlantic Canada’s 100 Greatest Books (Nimbus Publishing). He’s even been appointed an officer of the Order of Canada. Given that his body of work is but one novel and roughly 20 short stories, that’s a lot of weight and worth crammed into a few books.

Some of his work deals with feeling displaced from home, often on account of moving away to make a living. This was a life choice many Europeans colonizing Canada made in the distant past, just as it’s a common choice today for Atlantic Canadians who migrate to find work in places like Alberta. The emotional toll of tearing up one’s roots, and as a result, a connection to the land and family that made us, is something MacLeod conveys very well, as is coping with the inevitability of change in our culture at home. What remains of us when we cleave ourselves from the culture and people that made us?

Though not born there, MacLeod was raised in Cape Breton at a time when the island could only be reached by ferry. Perhaps that isolation is what taught him the importance of place and cultural identity? Cultural identity is certainly something Atlantic Canadians feel more than most, and that could be why his work speaks so loudly to us.

MacLeod was a purposefully slow writer. His pace didn’t leave us with a plethora of work, but rather, a lesson. His patience showed us how perfectly crafted sentences will build an emotional bridge between a reader and the story, because we experience a well-written story instead of merely reading it. Also, theme and metaphor, age-old but dying concepts, added meaning and cultural relevance to his work. He was a truly classic writer the way Joyce or Thoreau were.

The first time I met him was in an elevator in Toronto after IFOA; a prestigious festival I felt fortunate to be a part of. So you can see the metaphor in “going up” with MacLeod. He walked in saying, “Could you hit 11 for me?” I was staying on floor five, and he floor 11. In life, as in his writing, MacLeod will always be levels and levels above the rest of us.

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Chad PelleyCredentials are essential to every reviewer’s credibility

One of the first novels I read in 2013 was a gorgeously written debut. I thought its strength was its style, but a Globe and Mail review slammed its “thwarted prose” and “effusive detail that adds little depth to the story.” Were it not so difficult to leave a comment to the contrary, I might have respectfully defended the author’s right to write how she wishes. Yet the review was intelligently constructed.

This conundrum got me thinking: How does one become a critic? Think about it; no one lets the doctor remove the ruptured appendix until he’s been taught the procedure, yet a critic needs no such certification to dissect a book. Fundamentally, a review should ascertain the author’s intention and assess how he or she succeeded and failed in that regard. Many critics know this, but many do not.

As an author who has taken some knocks alongside some highs, I might sound like a guy with his back up here. I’m not. Criticism serves many roles in our industry, from taste-making to academic discourse and even marketing of books, and if authors can’t stand to hear that they’re imperfect, maybe they shouldn’t be writing. Also, because review space is so scarce, no writer should complain about receiving a bad review (if it’s fairly worded), as there are so many writers out there whose work isn’t even getting reviewed. Surely, being ignored is worse than being talked about. Personally, I crave constructive criticism. Praise is nice, but hearing “I love your writing” will never make me a better writer.

However, this mode of thinking about bad reviews as an acceptable part of the industry depends entirely on reviews being professionally rendered. Having to swallow unfounded statements about your work—statements that speak more to a critic’s inability to review a novel than a writer’s inability to craft one—is needless and plain unfair. The consensus among writers and critics I admire is that if the author learns nothing from a bad review, it’s sloppy journalism.

Lisa Moore is one of our country’s finest writers, but like many of us, she’s had to endure some sloppy reviews over the years. I asked her whether it’s uncouth for writers to respond to bunk reviews. “I learn a ton from some of my negative reviews when they are written by people who know what they’re doing,” she says. “Let’s face it, the gig doesn’t pay very much, the deadlines can sometimes be punishing, on very rare occasions the job draws the disenchanted and sour. But most reviewers are reviewing for the love of literature, and it’s from them we learn to be better readers. Even if the sting of an insightful-but-negative review leaves me raw, I can be very grateful for the insight. Those sorts of reviews can mean that literature really matters. It matters enough to argue about.”

I suppose it all comes down to the level of integrity behind the bad review. If anything, this article is merely a plea or warning to our country’s newspapers and magazines: your publication is only as good as the professionalism of your contributors. We readers are talking more than you think we are about your articles.

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Our Chad Pelley proposes three novels that will satisfy your need for a great escape

One of the themes in this spring issue of Atlantic Books Today is “travel and adventure.” It’s a fitting theme for those of us who’ve endured the cold, snowy winter—but who are still months away from our summer getaways. To tide us over, here are some Atlantic-authored books that offer readers an opportunity to escape into a world of adventure.

A sister’s quest

We could, for example, join Aileen from Rebecca Silver Slayter’s In the Land of Birdfishes (HarperCollins) as she embarks on a cross-country quest to find her estranged sister.

As the novel opens, we meet the two young sisters, Mara and Aileen, and their overwhelmed father, who has permanently blindfolded his two daughters to “shield them from the misery of the world.” When a neighbour discovers the girls, they are immediately separated for treatment. Decades later, Aileen, spurred on by the loneliness of a dissolved relationship, goes looking for her sister. Her journey begins with a trip to the Yukon, where Aileen finds—not Mara, but Mara’s angry son, Jason. From there, Aileen’s life begins to change. This engaging story of secrets, sisters and circumstance is heightened by Slayter’s elegant writing.

Adventures in pot smuggling

If you haven’t read it yet, Lisa Moore’s Caught (Anansi) has everything you could want in a novel: plot, pace, and well-wrought characters. The novel’s prison escape, high-sea adventures and corrupt military men make the story almost cinematic. In the opening scenes, David Slaney is barrelling through the woods with the cops on his tail. He’s just escaped prison, having been sentenced for spearheading one of the biggest pot-smuggling operations in Canadian history.

Slaney is a man with an amazing zeal for adventure. The secondary narrative is about a lawman whose career hinges on capturing Slaney. Adding to this criminal-on-the-run novel is Moore’s decision to frame both Slaney and Patterson (the detective) as legitimately great guys—leading readers to root for both characters. This novel has great pacing and raises questions of morality and humanity.

Journey to Yugoslavia

Nicole Lundrigan’s fabulous fifth novel, The Widow Tree (Douglas & McIntyre), also offers a great escape—all the way to Yugoslavia.

In the opening pages of this literary mystery, three young friends—Janos, Nevena and Dorjan—stumble upon a bag of buried Roman coins in a cornfield. Their discovery could buy them a dream life—or it could buy them trouble. Immediately after Janos is trusted by the others to hide the coins, he goes missing. The novel alternates points of view between Janos’s love interest, his best friend and his devastated mother, who is on a quest to find her son. Did Janos rip off his best friend and short-change Nevena, whom he vowed to marry, or has something more sinister happened to the boy and the coins? This is the mystery of The Widow Tree, expertly rendered by Lundrigan.

Enjoy the trip.