The Red River Valley Trilogy

Posted on by Mitchell Toews

I started submitting to literary journals, both print and online, in February of 2016. It was while we were on a vacation in Curacao and I concentrated on writing, windsurfing and Heineken. The first time my fiction was published online was when Editor Nancy Kay Clark accepted my three-part trilogy, “The Red River Valley Trilogy” for inclusion on Toronto-based CommuterLit.

CommuterLit.com is a literary ezine for readers on the go. It delivers to readers a new story or poem each work day that can be read on their mobile devices.

Here are a few author’s notes on the three interrelated stories that ran on consecutive days on CommuterLit this July.

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“Encountered on the Shore” Following a reckless youth, with more than my portion of a false sense of indestructibility, I have come to wonder about the presence of guardian angels. So often, catastrophes were avoided – no matter how foolish my actions were in bringing them on in the first place. In fact, it almost seems that bad news is a harbinger of good news, if you can just hold fast and not lose your nerve as you round the cape of bad fortune.

“Where, here quiet, awaits my guardian angel?”  from Encountered on the Shore

I did some research on the various beliefs concerning guardian angels and some of this went into this story, which was based on a true occurrence from my past. I don’t know if there was an angel interceding back then, on Portage Avenue, but I like to think there was.

The idea of guardian angels is ancient and widespread and is present in many religions and cultures. Guardian angels are often associated with telltales like: birds, bright colours, double digits and the ringing of bells, à la Jimmy Stewart. These heavenly agents are said to assume very beautiful or very unusual and physically powerful mortal forms.

Wings, of course, are a big part of the Christian doctrine concerning guardian angels.

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“Jackpot on Page Fifty-Five”  In this tale of unintended consequences, the protagonist is a struggling writer named Chap Buque. In desperation, on the heels of the bottom half of a bottle of Jack, Chap sends a rambling, late night email/rant to her publisher. In it, she describes a plan to include a coupon entitling the bearer to a $10 mail-in REBATE on the cost of the book. “It works for Benjamin Moore and Home Depot,” she reasons drunkenly, taking examples from the never-ending home renovation project that consumes her day & night, pulling her away from writing.

Communications fail and the coupon is bound into the book. Well, the promotion takes off like a summertime comic book movie and Chap and her hapless publisher are left holding the bag, seeing as the book ends up selling for $7.50 CAD on Amazon. (HINT: An Arts Council Grant may come to the rescue.)

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Huh? In truth dear reader – and I do mean dear! – this is just a tease to see if anyone is actually reading this blog. Like Chap’s home reno, I am taking time away from “real” writing to produce this humble web log, so is it worth it? Is my blog busting through the literary clutter of the titanic internet and the million-or-so other blogs out there?

Does my guardian angel read my blog?

Is Chap not a great name for a woman?

Sorry… to be clear, “Jackpot on Page Fifty-Five” IS NOT part of the trilogy. A bit disrespectful to you who have read this far — but I wanted to see if anyone was actually, you know, out there. So, I made up this storyline as a kind of “read herring”. To tell you the truth, I now find the premise kind of interesting and want to write it! (The Adventures of Ms Buque!)

I will sign off right now and return with more about the other two, REAL instalments of the trilogy. Be sure to read them, and many other wonderful stories and poems from around the world, on CommuterLit!

  1. Encountered on the Shore 1,425 words – the kindness of strangers
  2. A Vile Insinuation 1,665 words – a call to arms
  3. Without Reason 1,389 words – do things really happen for a reason?

…allfornow – Mitch

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Copyright Mitchell Toews ©2016

 

 

 

 

The Fifty Dollar Sewing Machine

Posted on by Mitchell Toews

My story, “The Fifty Dollar Sewing Machine” appears today (Sept 19, 2016) on Literally Stories.

The story is an imagined adventure. It takes disparate ingredients like my Toews Grandparents’ personalities and my knowledge of downtown Winnipeg and combines them; setting the elements loose in a stressful situation.

Allowing this hybridization of fact and fiction is why (I think) authors talk about characters taking on a life of their own. The overall direction of the story is plotted but the step-by-step pathway is extemporaneous. Storylines jump off course and pinball through obstacles and perceptions that are themselves fluid and may not have been fully realized when the story began.

At least, for me they do. That could be part of the reason why I have to re-write so much as I collect disintegrated bits that are flying off into space in a most Kryptonian way.

This story, originally titled Complex Pacifism, came into being when I saw a faded yellow sign painted on weather worn bricks. I saw the Crown Zellerbach sign from my comfy chair in Chilliwack. Google Images transported me back to Winnipeg, as I researched a different story online.

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A familiar name

The Zellerbach name leapt out at me – it was familiar from countless cardboard boxes of supplies in Steinbach Bakery, a place in which I grew up and where I had my first job. The bakery is a receptacle for many honey-glazed memories.

Grandpa’s quiet stoicism and subtle humour together with Grandma’s Annie Oakley style of directness came together in the exchange district of Winnipeg. The area was my territory as a “cub reporter” with Dun & Bradstreet in the late Seventies and I spent many hours in my little Datsun, trying to find businesses in the hodge-podge of mossy brick and decrepit alleyways.

Bakery ingredients; the feel of a late fall evening in Winnipeg; how to throw a punch — these are things I experienced but I never imagined that they could be combined to create a story.

 

My Grandma Rose Toews (nee Zilkie) was a Steinbach institution and she lives large in my memories. A favourite story is told by my out-of-town, female cousins who boarded with her while going to school in Steinbach. Grandma, strict and direct, might ask the pretty girls upon their late-night return from a date, “Did you let?”

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Years later, when Grandma remarried in her eighties following Grandpa’s passing a decade before, one of her Grand-daughters pulled her aside at the Sunday after-wedding  faspa, the day following the octogenarian wedding.

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“Grandma,” my cousin – then in her thirties – whispered conspiratorially, “did you LET?”

Literally Stories is an outstanding online journal — it is a great site for writer and readers alike. Try it when you want a quick story to read – there are some gems here on this UK-based site! The header image above is from the LS website where the story is posted. 

I hope you enjoy The Fifty Dollar Sewing Machine and invite you to share your comments below or on the Literally Stories website!

…allfornow – Mitch

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Copyright Mitchell Toews ©2016

Henderson has Scored for Canada!

Posted on by Mitchell Toews

Paul Henderson scored his first NHL goal on January 29, 1964, against the Chicago Black Hawks. According to Wikipedia, “it came late in the game against goaltender Glenn Hall and resulted in a 2–2 tie.”

You probably did not know this.

But if you were born north of the 49th parallel between the Atlantic and the Pacific, you likely know about another of Henderson’s goals – one that came later in his career. (Americans who are drawing a blank can find plenty of appropriate, alternate sports references: from Bobby Thompson to The Miracle on Ice. Brits might conjure up Roger Bannister.)

Unforgettable moments – “against all odds” – are a staple of sports. Just ask Jesse Owens, or maybe better yet, Kevin Costner.

As an “emerging” writer (more often submerging) I had a Henderson moment recently when I received a copy of Rhubarb Magazine Issue 39. Looking at the cover, I saw a credit; my name, Mitchell Toews. I may have raised my arms. Just a little — my chewed-up rotator cuffs only allow for a limited joyous celebration. Besides, as my friend Dave sometimes reminds me, too much gesticulation is off-putting.

Anyway. My little story is not on a par with THE GOAL, but it was kinda cool. Por moi.

And the little town slept.

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Here is an excerpt from, “A Fisherman’s Story”, which is in this issue of Rhubarb:

The birds flew without effort, in trail formation, gliding into the wind with their wingtips inches away from the curling edge of a breaking wave. They suddenly banked up and out toward the dim, salt-misted far shore of the bay, snaking around in a circle and landing clumsily behind the wave. Rising and falling on the swell, the birds floated quietly until a big male took off, flapped twice, then dropped to scoop a fish. The pelican nodded strenuously to reposition the quarry in his large bill pouch while his wingmen watched the water around him with unblinking eyes.

“Pescadooooo!” Jose had said, flashing his bright smile.

Find more published works, here: http://en.gravatar.com/mitchtoews

…allfornow – Mitch

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P.S. – The photo is of my dad, Norman “Chuck” Toews. Early Sixties here — he might have been just a bit better than Henderson.

 

Copyright Mitchell Toews ©2016