With news that Sunflowers Under Fire, my historical fiction, is now a finalist for the 2019 Whistler Independent Book Awards, a writing dream has come true.
This book took at least six years to write. I had my mother’s anecdotes but I needed to a lot of research to fill in the blanks. I visited libraries in Vancouver, Winnipeg, Toronto, New York city and Stamford, Connecticut.
At times, I was overwhelmed with all the material I gathered on Ukrainian and Russian history, but in the end I got most of what I wanted.
The Other Finalists
In this independent book contest, sponsored by the Writers Union of Canada, and supported by the Canadian Authors Association along with the Whistler Writing Society and Vivalogue Publishing, Sunflowers Under Fire will be competing with two other novels. I’m thrilled to be in this company.
Nine Birds Singing by Edythe Anstey Hanen is one. It’s a poignant coming-of-age story about a girl in love with words.
Celtic Knot – A Clara Swift Tale by Ann Shortell is the other. It’s a crime story having to do with Prime Minister John A. McDonald and the threat of Irish terrorists.
I have yet to read them but they both sound very good from their descriptions.
Why I Write
Every writer writes because they are compelled to do so.
Sure, a writer wants recognition through sales, good reviews and maybe fame, but the bottom line is all about the writing.
Now I’m compelled to write about the subjects that appeal to me and worry me.
My Earlier Reading and Writing
When I reflect back on my childhood, I don’t recall writing much as a child. I had a five-year diary as a teen which has since disappeared. Did Mom throw it out? Possibly. She might not have appreciated its worth to me.
I wish I could go back and read it just to see if what I wrote had any merit. I’m sure my scribblings had to do with whatever angst was going on at the time. Being an only child in an immigrant household with three adults in an area of apartment blocks meant a lot of lonely days. I had a couple of friends but the school I attended was literally across the tracks. My side of them wasn’t the favourable one.
I’ve mentioned before that we didn’t have many books in the house. Mom didn’t read. Dad subscribed to Reader’s Digest for a while and the daily Winnipeg Free Press. By the time I reached high school, I’d read only a handful of novels, borrowed from the library. It’s not that I didn’t love reading; I did. But back then, it was comic books, true romances and confessions in the magazines that the tenants upstairs threw out, and cereal boxes.
In second year university, one of my courses was English and Literature. Again, I wish I could go back in time. I’d do that course over again. Now I’d lap up every word the teacher would say. But back then, I was more interested in the men’s basketball team and mooning over my latest crush.
The Married Years
It wasn’t until I got married that I began to read in earnest. Because of a writing dream, I joined the Manitoba Authors’ Association and even got an honorary mention from Flare magazine for an essay I entered in their contest. I also wrote a couple of articles that were published, one on a family trip to Big Sky in Montana, and another on fitness, that got a full page spread in a Winnipeg newspaper. However, writing didn’t seem to be a desirable career move. Not with two small children to raise and a husband who wanted to pursue his Master of Social Work.
After Rob got his degree, I also went back to get my Master of Social Work. Being a clinical social worker was not a huge paying occupation but a very rewarding one. I met so many wonderful people along the way: other social workers, therapists and clients. There were several stints in psychiatry, where I learned a great deal about human behaviour, from the staff but also from the patients I worked with.
And Now
I’m still learning and loving the lessons that come my way. All of it is fodder for my writing. And I’ll continue because the bottom line is that I love putting words on a page. To get recognition in my senior years is a bonus.
Keeping the Dream Alive
What about you? Why do you write if you do? How do you keep at it? Do you have a writing dream or are you a reader with a different dream? What keeps your dream alive?
Fantastic news, Diana. Congratulations! I’m so proud of you and all you’ve accomplished.
Thank you, Jo-Anne. I’m pretty impressed with all that you’ve accomplished as well. Writing a seven-book series and now starting another is no small feat. Pretty amazing. You have an incredible imagination. I don’t think there’s a protagonist out there that does what yours does.
How wonderful Diana. I’m not surprised after reading The Rubber Fence. You’re a fine storyteller and I’m looking forward to reading Sunflowers Under Fire. We didn’t have many books in our house either but my mother was a teacher and brought home the Dick & Jane readers from school. Teaching me how to read is perhaps the most valuable lesson I’ve received from her. I get to blame my addiction on her. Good luck with the book awards.
Thank you Allan. Perhaps books were a luxury in your house, too. My parents had gone through the depression which scarred them both, so anything unnecessary wasn’t purchased. My first language was actually Ukrainian even though I was born in Winnipeg. And we largely spoke it in the house because my grandmother didn’t speak English.
It’s actually quite funny that I became a writer. It wasn’t my strongest subject in school. I felt quite insecure studying language and literature even though I was an Honours student. Love how it’s all turned out. My father who had the same experience with Ukrainian in the home loved quoting the English poets so my love of the musicality of words comes from him.
Congratulations, Diana! You inspire us all with what you have done with your writing.
Thank you Jo. What a sweet thing to say. Hope you’re not in the extreme heat part of the USA right now. If you are, hope you have the means to keep cool and healthy.