From the Rhine to the Red River

I'm meandering around so much in the real world, that my online meandering has lagged behind. But I do want to continue this blog and will make every attempt to write a weekly post.

I've just finished a memoir by Anne Ullenboom Van Humbeck called From the Rhine to the Red River. This self- published book is a story of a woman and her family. It's written with warmth and humor. I especially enjoyed the first half where she shares her childhood war memories and then later, her first years in Canada as a newlywed and parent. My parents, too, were immigrants from Germany and so I always find it interesting how other families experienced the transition.

This is the second self-published book I've read this year and I must admit, I am impressed with the quality of the copy-editing and especially, with the strength of the writing. Again, a beautiful cover and a great read!

Remember Me by Sara V. Mosher


I’ve just finished reading Remember Me, No. 110 (Hyderabad) Squadron, Royal Air Force. by Sara V. Mosher. The book is beautifully produced, from the striking cover, the many photos, to the meticuously researched notes and appendix. But it’s the undercurrent of love and respect – not just between a daughter and her father – but between two generations, that gives the book its soul. The book isn’t just about the author’s father. The book is about a squadron of young men. It’s about youth, it’s about dying, and it’s about old men who remember. The title is perfect.

Once upon a time, - back in the sixties and early seventies of the last century, in a far away place – out in the western suburbs of Winnipeg, some children were playing, learning and growing. What I’m trying to say is that Sara and I have been friends since way back. Then we grew up, moved away and rarely saw each other.

Back to this current century. Unknown to each other, while I was busy trying to figure out my mother’s life, Sara started to research her own family’s past. We both had fathers who were in the air force (albeit different teams). Both fathers ended up living quiet lives in the suburbs, raising their children, worlds away from what were the tumultuous, life-changing years of war.

My reactions to the book? First of all, how very sad. So many young men died. Sara gives them names and faces and events. Boys with smiling faces. Dead.

My second reaction is awe. I’m impressed with detailed names of places, of planes, of dates. For anyone with an interest in World War II – whether because of family, or because of the military, this book provides exact details. There are no sweeping generalizations here. No blame, no verdicts. Just real people in unreal situations. The amount of research is amazing.

My own father’s war experiences disappeared into forgotten memory when he died. Sara has grasped her father’s military experiences and put them into a compelling narrative.

My favorite chapters were near the end where Constance Pitts and Kenny Mosher become a couple and thus, the future parents of my friend. Here, the author’s wry sense of humour sneaks out. The warm feeling that the large Mosher family still shares, is also evident.

Well done, my friend. I recommend this book to anyone connected to WWII.

Excerpt from the opening paragraph of Chapter 16, page 101:

“A clothes peg drops suddenly from her mouth as she tightens her grip on the other wooden peg that clips the freshly washed pillow case to the line. Her eyes are fixed on the sky as she stares at the German airship flying its customary scheduled route from Germany to New Jersey, passing over Apple River. It flies low and slowly. Mrs. Larsen feels sure the Germans are mapping the countryside. No one trusts Hitler. Even so, later that summer when a neighbor with a battery operated radio shouts anxiously across the field to Mrs. Larsen, "We're at war again with Germany," the news is met with disbelief."

For more information visit her webpage at www.saravmosher.com or visit her blog at http://110hyderabad.blogspot.com



Upcoming Presentation/Human Rights Museum Issues

I'm reviewing my research notes from The Kulak's Daughter as I prepare a talk for next month. The talk will be held at the Ukrainian Cultural Centre on 184 Alexander Avenue, Wednesday, Feb. 9th at 7 p.m.

I'll be sharing my photos from my visit to Ukraine, as well as relevant background reading I did on collectives, kulaks, and their exile to remote parts of the Soviet Union.

For more information please follow this link. If you're in the Winnipeg area, please visit!

Also, Winnipeg will soon be home to the Canadian Museum of Human Rights. This massive project is slated for a Spring/2013 opening. As it stands right now, the Holocaust and the Canadian aboriginals will be the only 'permanent' exhibits. The Ukrainian Canadian Civil Liberties Association (UCCLA) is challenging this proposed plan. They want a permanent exhibit for the Holodomor.

What is the Holodomor, you ask? That's why we need a museum. Perhaps the King Solomon solution to this controversial issue would be to have only the made-in-Canada human rights issues as the permanent features and all the other human rights atrocities as the revolving exhibitions.

It will be interesting to see how this plays out.

2011

2011! (Three more years - and then I'm RETIRED! Now let me see - 3 years, with 52 weeks, that's 52 times 3, minus vacation...I won't bore you with my calculations.) But the changing of calendars does bring out the calculator in me.

2011 this week looks a lot like 2010 last week. We were at -28 Celcius last night. Clear sky. Great for star gazing while walking the canine.

That's one thing we all have in common, no matter where or when we are in this huge world ruled by geography and time - sky. I wish everyone a happy new year and some daily sky time. Just you and sky. Now that's a monitor!



Red Poppies/Rote Mohn

No, I'm not blogging about Remembrance Day. I'm looking into the world my dad was in as a young fellow. I know he loved to dance so I'm checking out some of the big singers that he would have heard during the war over in Germany. I've discovered Rosita Serrano. One of her big hits was called "Roter Mohn" (or red poppy) - which is a tango. By coincidence - I have an oil painting of red poppies done by him - in my living room. So, the writer in me is imagining all sorts of things!

Rosita Serrano is an interesting figure. She was born in Chile and entered the German scene in 1936 where she was nicknamed the Chilean Nightingale. But in 1943 she supported some Jewish refugees in Sweden and the Nazis blacklisted her. Her career never recovered and she died in extreme poverty in Chile in 1997.

Still, thanks to our amazing technology, her music lives on.


McNally Robinson Book Signing

It's a signing! Books for Christmas gift giving.

Where: McNally Robinson (Grant Park) in Winnipeg.
To be specific - at the bottom of the spiral staircase which leads
up to the kids' books section.
When: Saturday, December 18th. I'll be there between 3 and 4 p.m.
There'll be children book authors signing all day.

Featured authors include: Rae Bridgman, Martha Brooks, Anita Daher,
Gabriele Goldstone, Brenda Hasiuk, Perry Nodelman, Craig Russell,
Margaret Shaw-MacKinnon, Joe McLellan, Susan Rocan, Chris Rutkowski,
Duncan Thornton, and Larry Verstrate.

I'm just thrilled to be in their company.



The Logline

I hummed and hawed. Why do I want to go to a scriptwriting workshop? It’s not like I’m about to try writing a movie script. But I was curious, that’s all – especially when I checked out the workshop facilitator’s website. Danishka Esterhazy was not only an award-winning writer, but she’d worked with historical fiction. I knew then that I had to go. My curiousity was not disappointed - the three hour workshop was fantastic.

I learned so much – not about film-making (just awed) - but about story. And without story, you have no movie, no novel, no reader. Danishka dropped the names of a few big weights in the movie scriptwriting business – names of workshops she’s participated in. But I want to be brief here, so I’ll just share one gold nugget.

In her introduction she said, “Art is fire plus algebra.” I don’t remember who she attributed that quote to, but it’s a great image. Now, while I don’t have the happiest relationship with algebra, I have overcome some of my childhood aversion.

Here is the formula for a logline. What is a logline, you ask? It’s the pitch, the story condensed down to its barest form.

(Title) is a (genre) story about (your main character) who (experiences a life changing event) and then must (struggle towards a goal).

The logline should be thirty words or less and it should contain active verbs. It’s a great exercise for any writer and I’m really liking the challenge of applying some algebra to my own work.

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