Local History with Big Impact

Set in my home city of Winnipeg, back in 1983, What Friends are For, presents, with tantalizing tension, the still-hot-button issue of abortion. Told through the eyes of fifteen-year-old, Leesa, I was reminded of the strong emotions this topic brought to media, politics, religious communities and even to my own dinner table. I remember getting up and leaving the table when one of my uncles, a known womanizer who’d served in Hitler’s Wehrmacht, began name-calling Dr. Morgentaler.  Yes, the eighties were filled with such characters and such tensions … even here in Winnipeg.  

Harriet Zaidman showcases the nuanced views that continue to complicate what should be a straight-forward issue. Our bodies are our own. As Leesa struggles with her unfortunate predicament, we learn about Dr. Henry Morgentaler, the man who courageously fought for women’s right to choose and about the anti-abortionists, including church-based evangelicals, along with activists like Joe Borowski.

There’s an interesting subplot, focused on a young woman’s murder back in the eighties, where the wrong man was sent to prison. It underlines our city’s convoluted need to appear just. 

Struggling marriages, a woman’s need for financial independence, and the lack of accountability for young men with big egos and sexual aggression are deftly handled by Zaidman.  No wonder her previous novels (Strike, 1919 about the union movement in Winnipeg and Second Chances, about the polio epidemic here in Winnipeg) received national awards. With What Friends are For, Zaidman’s social commentary continues to be spot-on.

Zaidman’s protagonist, Leesa, is bombarded from both sides of the issue and as a reader I lived through the stress of her fear and the strength of her conviction. Kudos to the author for re-opening a door to a topic that continues to be contentious. 

Stories Build Bridges

Marsha Forchuk Skrypuch’s latest book, Standoff, is the second of a three-book series called Kidnapped from Ukraine.  Like her first in this series, Under Attack, it’s about the ongoing war in Ukraine. Her two 12-year-old protagonists, Dariia and Rada, are twin girls who become separated from each other in the early days of the bombardment of Mariupol. 

The author lets readers dive deep into the atrocities of this real-time war and into survival mode in the dark, dank bunkers deep under the Azofstal Iron and Steel plant. It’s a middle grade story, yes, but adults will appreciate the research and detail that Skrypuch incorporates into this novel.

I’ll never read another Ukrainian news headline or view another horrific image without feeling the suffering that Dariia, Rada, her parents and close friends experience since February, 2022. Yes, this is fiction. But this is not ‘just’ fiction. 

War might make the news when Trump, Zelenskyy and Putin discuss weapons and negotiate tariffs. But war is also about young girls who want to wear nail polish and bunny slippers, who want to hug their pets and text their family or friends. Kids need security.  Little things matter. 

While Russians continue to be manipulated by their leader, Putin, it’s stories like these that have the power to change people. There’s nothing good about war and no justification for violence.  Skrypuch empowers her characters to take action and not just be victims. Readers will appreciate the hope that is ever-present. 

Up until Kidnapped from Ukraine, Skrypuch’s bestselling novels focused on wars from the past. This series focuses on a modern war. History repeats itself in tragic ways. I hope kids all over the world get to read her books. These don’t just belong on a reading curriculum … they belong in a social studies’ class and at the dinner table.  

Could students in my city continue to bully newcomers from Ukraine if they read novels like this? I don’t think so. Stories build bridges. They matter. 

Hope is like the tenacity of a sunflower
in a cold October wind

It's not 'just' Fiction

Super excited that my research and writing has led to a connection with the real person who inspired a fictional character in my 2022 novel, Crow Stone. My aunt, my mom’s youngest sister, had cared for a little girl during the life-changing 1945 winter trek in former East Prussia as they tried to escape the Soviet army to reach the rescue ships at the Pillau harbour. My aunt was still a teenager and this child she protected was a toddler between two and three years of age. What happened to my aunt and the child after 1945? While my mother spent the next 2 ½ years in the Urals as a Soviet p.o.w., (fictionalized in Crow Stone) her two sisters and this child stayed behind as northern East Prussia transitioned into the Kaliningrad enclave belonging to Russia that we know today. 

Crow Stone characters inspired by people still living

In 1953, after finding each other again, my mom and her sisters—once again homeless— immigrated to Canada. But the little girl, E.., by then about 10 years old, was left behind in Germany. I don’t know the details, but I think she was reunited with some family member in Schleswig Holstein, a province in northern Germany. This little girl, E. is coming to Canada next year and we’re going to meet up. She’ll be able to share with me some of the details of her tragic childhood that have been buried over the decades.  I’m just tingling with excitement. She’s read Crow Stone and I was quite nervous about how she’d react to this fictionalized account of those horrible times … but the fact that she’s eager to meet me and share more is a positive sign, right? I’m just thrilled!

My mom (right) and her youngest sister, 40 years after the war,
safely growing old in Canada

As we age, it’s childhood memories that creep back into the centre stage our consciousness. I may have been born and raised in Canada, but the leftovers of my family’s trauma have haunted my own life. Writing these trauma-focused novels has helped me process the dynamics of my family. Every family has stories worth exploring. We just need to ask the questions and remember to be kind, curious and brave. 

 

Newcomers still Struggle to Belong

This morning the announcer on my kitchen radio shared news that a 14-year-old girl had been assaulted and bullied in a local high school... supposedly because of her Ukrainian accent. This school is ten minutes from my home. All three of my kids attended the institution set in a middle-class neighbourhood. I assume that means the residents have some sort of higher learning.  How can war refugees be bullied? Where does this sort of attitude come from? 

In my novel, Waltraut (Heritage House, 2024), my protagonist also gets bullied and ostracized because of her immigrant background. But that story was set back in the sixties. Has our Canadian education system still not enlightened students about the challenges of immigration? Is our Canadian society still afraid of people who have an accent, or a difficult-to-spell name, or parents who struggle with English? Are we Canadians still afraid of people who are different?  Are our children learning intolerance from the adults in their lives?

As I did my daily walk in the woods close to Oak Park High this morning, I pondered the learning that happens in between the classes, between the official curriculum, in between the necessary bureaucracy.  What are schools teaching our next generation? How can Canada better embrace its newcomers?

Waltraut reflected my own uncomfortable school experiences. Has nothing changed in fifty years?  Shame on us. 

Curious About Emotions

Gritty and authentic, The Outsmarters by Deborah Ellis left me in tears … a curious emotional reaction for a book filled with rage. Ellis immerses readers into a hard-edged world of outcasts and promises no happy ending. 

The title refers to the rejection that the 12-year-old protagonist, called Kate throughout the first half, experiences. She’s been ostracized by her addicted mother, her rule-based school and peer bullies. Gran, her substitute caregiver. has not resolved her own rage and is not a good role model.  Kate avoids her whenever possible. With exquisite craft, Ellis lets the reader experience the determination, hope, disappointment and anger that powers the characters throughout a most engaging novel. 

I've also been reading The Emotional Craft of Fiction by Donald Maass and would have to say that Ellis, whether she knows it or not, has mastered the craft of employing emotion and inspiring readers with hope. He writes, "The spirit you bring is the spirit we'll feel as we read, and of all the feelings you can excite in your readers the most gripping and beautiful is the spirit of hope." (page 201). 

In my quest for improving my own writing through emotion,  I'm now reading,  The Nine Emotional Lives of Cats: A Journey into the Feline Heart by Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson.  Curiousity leads me on. 

All those little details ... they matter

I've just finished reading a most unusual book by Walter Kempowski, titled, Schule: Immer so durchgemogelt.  It's filled with short snippets of German society, through the school system, by students during the Nazi years. I picked this up mostly to imagine my dad as a student in northern Germany (Schleswig Holstein). He was eager to join the Luftwaffe and was obviously influenced by the Nazi visions as a young student ... although ... I'm grateful to say, he never joined the party. 

The book's worth reading, but a tad repetitious. It's curious to see what stays in a person's memory about school. The authenticity of these memories is was kept me reading. 

Walter Kempowski wrote many books about the Nazi years. After reading his 1991 novel, Mark und Bein, I've been determined to read more by this author.  His interest in details has made the atrocities under Hitler become more real and relevant. Little things do matter. 

Waltraut or Waltraud?

Finished reading Waltraud by Tammy Borden from my summer reading list, just before fall is set to officially begin. What an amazing book and I’m so grateful to have read it. The author tells the life story of her mother, born in 1927 in the Braunschweig area of Germany. 

Told in first person, it follows Waltraud from BDM days through the war, the confusing time after the war, until her immigration to Wisconsin in the USA.  I picked up the book because of the similar-sounding titles … my Waltraut vs. Tammy Borden’s Waltraud. My book is a novel for middle-graders and stays solely in the voice of an eleven-year-old Canadian girl while Waltraud’s voice moves from young child, to young woman.

It’s very well written and carries an emotional wallop, revealing complicated family relationships that were exasperated by war.  The author does an amazing job of stepping into her mother's world, in a succinct, yet compelling voice.  

I needed five middle grade and YA novels to depict my mother’s journey from 11-year-old Ukrainian kulak to being the mother of an 11 year-old North American girl.  Borden's one book covers decades of her mother's early life. Our protagonists share some similarities (one born in Soviet Ukraine 1919 and the other in Germany in 1927) with both stories being told in first person and written by their daughters. An interesting study in itself. 

I'm delighted to put Waltraud next to Waltraut. Whether it's Waltraut with a t or Waltraud with a d, both spellings mean 'strong' and each girl has a compelling story to share. Read them both!