“Bike Killer” Translator-Curator Sam Kandej in Conversation with Contributor Mitchell Toews

Posted on by Mitchell Toews

As a fellow contributor and Canadian, Kathy Steinemann puts it: “Over the years, I’ve interacted with Sam Kandej, an Iranian teacher, translator, and writer. He’ll be releasing a fiction anthology this summer, titled “Bike Killer.” Each story, originally written in English, will be published in Farsi.” My experience is identical and like Kathy, I’m publishing Sam’s interview and my responses today. A link to Kathy’s interview is found below.

Sam Kandej of Iran asks English language author Mitchell Toews of Canada SIX QUESTIONS about writing. Mitch is the author of Pinching Zwieback (At Bay Press, 2023). He has a novel (also with Winnipeg’s At Bay Press) forthcoming this spring and a second collection will be introduced later in 2026, on Canada’s west coast. Mitch has a considerable periodical footprint with well over 150 publications in Canada, the US, the UK and elsewhere around the world. The recipient of a Journey Prize nomination and four Pushcart Prize nominations, Mitch has been writing professionally since 2016.

Mitch’s contributions for Bike Killer are:

Fast and Steep: First appeared in Riddle Fence magazine (CA, November 2019) and is also included in Mitch’s 2023 collection of short stories, Pinching Zwieback (At Bay Press, 2023). The Farsi version of Fast and Steep appears in “Bike Killer” by permission of At Bay Press.

I am Otter: First published in a print anthology, “Fauna” by The Machinery (India, February 2017).

The Seven Songs: First published online by Fictive Dream (UK, 2017).

Sam’s Farsi ebook will contain work by Ambrose Bierce, Doug Hawley, Suzanne Mays, Bill Tope, W. C. McClure, and Kathy Steinemann.

Interview:

1. What inspired you to start writing short stories, and what was it like seeing your first story published?

Why write? That really is a key question, Sam.

I returned to fiction late, after a working life in manufacturing and the building trade, then twenty years in advertising and marketing. As I neared sixty, I felt an urgency I couldn’t ignore — partly ambition, but more the sense that time was narrowing. Writing mattered to me, and I wanted to do it seriously: to learn the craft and commit myself to it. I carried a lifetime of experiences — work, family, failure, compromise, and joy — and I wanted the chance to express them honestly, in my own voice.

Short fiction became the natural form. Short stories allowed me to engage immediately and bring lived experience to the page. Submitting to journals and contests wasn’t just a route to publication; it was a way to enter a public conversation and learn through dissent, criticism, and occasionally, success.

Over time, and through many refusals, I am beginning to understand what stories really do. They entertain, but more importantly, they apply moral pressure. They place characters in demanding situations — often drawn from the author’s life — and allow actions, rather than explanation, to reveal who those characters truly are. I’ve learned that depth comes from brief, revealing moments that expose both strength and weakness and invite empathy.

When my first story was published, I was surprised by how quickly it stopped being mine. Once others read it, the story belonged to them, shaped by their own experiences and interpretations. That realization startled and humbled me — and lent direction to why I write: not to control meaning, but to share something honest.

~

2. Do you have a daily routine for reading and writing? What are some of your writing habits?

I don’t keep a rigid writing schedule. My days are often shaped by season and weather; living in a sparsely populated boreal forest comes with obligations that can’t be postponed. Even so, I write or edit most mornings. I pay little attention to the clock or the calendar, except to prioritize the work in front of me. Tasks like submissions, marketing, and organizing readings happen around that, as time allows.

Reading is constant. I read a large volume of short fiction, though lately I’ve been returning to novels. Some of my reading is professional — judging, writing blurbs or reviews, responding to advance copies — and that inevitably shapes what and how I read. I’m attentive to work that instructs or inspires, especially prose that shows me another way of handling voice, structure, or restraint. Reading for pleasure, along with literary events and conversations, tends to happen in the evenings.

I also write poetry freely and without expectations. I find it helps my mental state and sharpens my prose. Similarly, I often reread work I know well to reconnect with what I learned from it earlier. Miriam Toews’s novels, for example, remind me how courage and clarity can coexist on the page. Hemingway’s Nick Adams Stories continue to teach me how action and description can carry emotional weight without explanation.

When I write, I draft with minimal restriction, guided by a broad underlying plan. I revise rigorously. I read my work aloud and also use text-to-speech to hear it read back to me — usually both. Sound and rhythm tell me more than the text alone and this is particularly important for dialogue. I rely on editors and trusted early readers whenever possible. I enjoy editing almost as much as writing, though both require patience and stamina.

~

The title, BIKE KILLER, is taken from a Doug Hawley story of the same name. Doug is a tireless, loquacious, and talented observer of the human condition, who has left his charming and curmudgeonly tracks all over the internet in places like Fiction of the Web and Literally Stories.

~

3. When you’re crafting a story, do you write primarily for yourself or with a specific reader in mind?

I’m often aware of an audience, and that consciousness inevitably shapes the work. At the same time, I resist writing toward an answer or conclusion; I’m more interested in delivering an honest depiction. That tension means the unspoken demands of my imagined audience may go unanswered.

Frequently, the person or incident that inspired the story becomes the focal point, and I try to work from that individual’s perspective — filtered through my own experience.

Not all audiences are a single person. Some stories are projected more broadly; others begin as messages for a narrow audience but, through allegory, expand into a conversation with many readers. In the Bike Killer anthology, “I am Otter” illustrates that transition.

I am drawn to the lives of underdogs — marginalized people with little power or influence. Their experiences are among the most compelling, and their circumstances and responses often reveal something essential about life and human interaction. I’m repeatedly surprised and moved by the weight of choices made in everyday relationships and encounters — at a gas station, in a coffee shop, in the course of an ordinary day. Decisions that can alter lives, even if they seem mundane, form the substance of heartfelt and relatable prose.

~

4. Which one is more important to you: creating fictional characters and worlds or expressing your thoughts and opinions explicitly through writing?

Sam, I think about this question constantly as I write. I want my characters to invite engagement. They are often underdogs or misfits shaped by forces larger than themselves. Duality is also central to my work: there are rarely pure heroes, pure victims, or pure villains. Hope, however, is a constant, especially when it’s faint or contested.

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” is one way to express this—a universal ethos that resides across belief systems.

The worlds I create are naturalistic and drawn from lived experience. They function as the moral atmosphere of the story rather than as mere setting. Whether rendered realistically or allegorically, these places reflect physical, social and cultural climates I know, which allows me to describe them honestly—sometimes to honour them, sometimes to expose them, and often both at once.

Readers are not students. I don’t write to dictate opinions. I want readers to enter a fictional life and leave with their own feelings, questions, and conclusions. That exchange builds the all-important connection between story and reader.

~

5. As a writer, do you primarily focus on problems or the solutions? Do you think a writer’s stories should be like a mirror to reflect humans’ deeds or a magical portal to take them to the place they should be in real life?

Problems vs. Solutions

Stories hinge on conflict. We create characters who encounter problems and watch them attempt to solve them. Often, instead of allowing a reasonable action to result in a solution, I insert yet another difficulty. These obstacles generate anxiety and empathy in the reader, deepening their emotional involvement in the character’s progress. The long-running American television series Stranger Things followed this pattern.

I seldom go to the full extent of nihilism, choosing instead to end with a solution—or at least a hopeful note. A grinding, unrelenting sequence of problems—like those found in Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy or a Dostoevsky novel—can be a gripping experience, but it risks fatiguing the reader. It’s also a hard style to master. 

In writing, there can be no easy solutions; they are boring. What good is the most elegant solution if it is not entertaining? Rising anxiety allows the reader a satisfying sense of relief when a solution is finally earned.

Mirror vs. Portal

I am drawn to realism, so the “mirror” is my foundation. At the same time, there is power in describing a series of trials as we follow a heroic character through challenging circumstances—the “portal.” My forthcoming novel offers a hybridized blending of both. The youthful main character runs away from his problems and broken loyalties only to encounter new ones. He has intentionally put himself in a predicament, and his true test becomes his struggle to persevere. As he begins to adapt and grow, a new antagonist enters. This unfamiliar, disruptive and chaotic individual represents the greatest ordeal of all. In the end, despite many failures, the protagonist achieves some victories. He has transformed himself, but he remains flawed; his journey must continue. (Mulholland and Hardbar will be published in 2026 by At Bay Press. “Like ‘Fargo,’ but with German accents.”

~

6. If you were to teach a one-semester course on writing short stories, what would the essential pillars of your curriculum be? Is there a specific story, exercise, or piece of craft advice you’d build the entire class around?

Another question with depth. To answer this as honestly as I can, I must admit that I’m not sure I would make a good teacher of short story writing. 

My rules would be less than rigid and also hard to interpret. I might write a different set of suggested approaches tomorrow.

With those undulating disclaimers in place, I might suggest the writers first imagine a place they know completely. It may be entirely imaginary, or completely real so long as the writer knows it well. 

I could recommend that the story be based on a striking scenario from the author’s lived experiences. Fiction affords the freedom of creativity—freeing for both writer and reader so that the truth becomes malleable and the author may resculpt as they wish. In this case, the goal may not be morality or principle, but a memorable, engaging story. A beautiful—or wrenching—question the author asks the reader to consider. 

I would ask my students to inject vivid life into the story at many points. We are physical beings; describe your characters’ abilities, failings, strengths, and peculiarities. Bruise us, enmesh us in our senses and emotions, put us in the action, feeling and being transported.

People talk. Share these discussions and ensure they sound real, as if a door swung open to bring us into the middle of a heated argument or an embarrassed confession, or a plea for mercy… until the door closes and shuts us out again.

Edit. Reading aloud, trim ruthlessly and with the urgency of a surgeon who knows to cut deep, often, and with precise intent. More than you think you should. More than you want.

Do not make yourself a hero or a victim in the story. Simply be a human describing the life of humans. Write of flaws. Dashed hopes, brittle egos, surprising valour. Show us answers seldom and yet keep alive our desire to seek them.

Thanks to Sam for including me. I am thrilled to be in BIKE KILLER, in the company of many wonderful writers. See Sam’s interview with Kathy Steinemann, HERE: https://kathysteinemann.com/Musings/kathy-steinemann-interview/

Image: The Nightingale and the Rose, used here to symbolize the Persian love of literature.

Iranian Author, Translator, Curator Sam Kandej

Posted on by Mitchell Toews

Writer friend Sam Kandej has a “top five” story on the venerable site, Fiction on the Web. Here is his BIO:

Hello! My name is Maysam Najafi Kandej, but I prefer to be called Sam Kandej in English. I was born on October 6th, 1988, in Tehran, while my mother was only seventeen.

As Iran is a vast country home to people of different races, languages, and religions, I’d like you to know that I’m a dark-skinned Persian Muslim, grown up in a relatively poor but respectable family.

English classes were the only summer classes my father could afford when I was a teenage boy. I liked the colorful books and the comic stories.

I was an average but hardworking student in high school. Through hard work, I was granted permission to study English Language and Literature at Kharazmi University for free, from 2009 until 2013. In some classes, I was among the top students, and in most of them, I wasn’t.

To be honest with you, I’ve been unsuccessful in almost all aspects of my life. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t had my own good, memorable days. I’ve lived, cried, smiled, wept, and dreamt for better days.

I’ve been a teacher for the last sixteen years, but unfortunately, I’ve never been able to make good money from this job because of my country’s endless economic and political crises. You could also say that I haven’t been hardworking enough. I cannot disagree with that!

In my free time, I write short, whimsical stories and translate English stories by my favorite authors into Farsi. You can read my latest flash fiction, “An Unforgettable Yalda,” on Fiction on the Web.

My favorite Persian poets are Khayyam, who encourages us to enjoy the moment and not take this world too seriously, and Ferdowsi, who asks humans to be wise, moderate, and thoughtful.

I’m so fortunate to have been born a Persian, to enjoy the rich literature, and then to savor learning English word by word. If Persian is like red wine to me, then English is definitely my white wine. [Sadly, I don’t drink alcohol in real life!]

I’m currently translating fourteen short stories written by seven authors (three by Mitch Toews) for an upcoming book titled ‘Bike Killer’. The book will be available in Iran this summer.

~ ~ ~

Things are scary and unnerving right now, here in the west. Where Sam is, that’s just another day.

Greenwich Village Vibe in the East Reserve

Posted on by Mitchell Toews

Minus the scuttling of rats and absent Blues Traveler, Joni Mitchell, George Carlin, Hettie Jones, and the Reverend Bob Dylan, Steinbach’s The Public Brewhouse and Gallery did a strong impression of one of the halcyon NYC music-drinks-spoken word shrines of the Sixties, Mennist style. https://thepublicbrewhouseandgallery.ca/

I felt during this evening the “crackle of the universe,” to quote William Burroughs, who—if he was a Mennonite, wasn’t very good at it. Or was maybe extremely good at it. Opinions vary. (He prooooooobably was not a Mennonite. Possibly a Lutheran.)

Mennonites were on tap because it was a FUNDRAISER for the Mennonite Heritage Village Museum, arranged by departing executive Nathan Dyck. A fine vocalist, as it turns out—no great surprise as so many Mennonites are good singers. It’s true, scientific, even. Ask any CSNY (Cornie Stoesz or Neufeld, Yasch). https://mennoniteheritagevillage.com/

Literati Erin Koop Unger and Andrew Unger led off with a travelogue deep dive into the Mennonite enclave that was the Vistula Delta in northern Poland. Their visit to the region generated a fascinating study in Mennonite history from the time when many Anabaptists were “encouraged” to leave the Lowlands of western Europe and found a home in G’dansk, a place of flood and relative religious tolerance. https://www.mennotoba.com/ https://andrewunger.com/

Paul Bergman entertained with music in two rhythmic, jazzy, silky sets that offset the historical mood and gave us some stardust for our beer. https://paulbergmanmusic.com/

I chimed in with some historical factoids from Ralph Friesen’s “Prosperity Ever Depression Never” and other other pub-style fare. I told two extemporaneous stories about personal experiences at the Tourist Hotel, but I think those went unrecorded. Here’s my written text:

I’ll begin by giving you some historical context for the Tourist Hotel, and its alehouse, the likes of which first began in Roman Britain, and according to Wikipedia, one of the most longstanding of which is “Sean’s Bar, in the medieval town of Athlone in the Republic of Ireland… the oldest pub in Europe, dating back to 900 AD.”

More recently, here’s a reading from “Prosperity Ever Depression Never” by Ralph Friesen, Pages 49-50:

[…] (“On Main Street, next to Abraham A. Toews Five Cents to One Dollar store) was the Steinbach Hotel. The hotel, beer parlour included, was owned and operated by Henry Coote, who grew up on a Mennonite farm as one of thousands of British “home children” sent to Canada because their families were too poor to care for them. Immediately next door was another hotel, the Tourist Hotel, built in 1927 by the Peter B. Peters family… descendants of Jacob Peters who had led the Bergthal Colony Mennonites in the 1874 immigration. In 1931… the Peters family bought (Coote’s Steinbach) hotel… running both the Tourist and the Steinbach hotels… In 1934… the Peters family collaborated with Hugh McDiarmid, a retired RCMP officer to apply for their (contentious beer parlour) licence, and this strategy worked…Steinbach remained “wet” for… decades.”

And from Barry Dyck, a Retired Executive Director of the Mennonite Heritage Village, in a mySteinbach article titled, “A Look Back at Steinbach’s former Tourist Hotel:

[…] “The Tourist Hotel… (did business) on Steinbach’s Main Street from 1928 to 1976… In 1930 it expanded to include a dining room and a “men-only” Beer Parlour. The parlour was not without controversy, however, and efforts were made to close it. In 1950 Steinbach voted for the prohibition of liquor sales. However, a separate vote of 398 to 214 allowed the Tourist Hotel beer parlour to stay open under a grandfather clause.”

And now, my own story about spending a night at the Tourist Hotel. “So, in January of 1969, when I was fourteen… ”

~ ~ ~

Next, to bring you to the wide world of bars and beer and drinking establishments—maybe some a bit different than The Public and the Tourist Hotel—here’s a fictional story about another public house. Imagine a saloon in the Irish village of Nobber (where one of my sons-in-law was born), a dimly-lit place dedicated to the sale and consumption of liquor, where they might have a pool table or a jukebox (perhaps playing “Mama Told Me Not to Come” by Randy Newman) and maybe some pickled eggs in a large jar made unappetizing by the presence of indistinct organic flotsam suspended in the yellowed vinegar… as if someone shook out a dusty rag into it. We enter the establishment near closing time when the barkeep and three male customers are the only occupants... (pensive music in background)

Photo: Erin Koop Unger

One Night at Keogan’s

“If you drinks in this bar, you buys me a pint. Or else.”

I’ve removed the text with the hope that I can sell the story and have it appear somewhere else.

~ ~ ~

Keogan’s Bar is a place you may have visited or might want to, just for the experience. In the case of the Tourist Hotel Beverage Room, you could have visited, as long as you were not a woman. Neither could women tend bar there—of the hundreds of thousands of watery draft beer pulled in Steinbach, none of them were drawn by a female hand. Steinbach was not the only one to have that gender bias; it was relatively common in places as far-removed as Warman, Sask., Winnipeg Beach, and The Terminal Club in Vancouver. In the Sixties, a small glass of beer was—by Manitoba Provincial law—15-cents in a men’s only beer parlour and 25-cents in a beverage room that served women. In 1978, I had a beer with a female co-worker at a soccer-mad tavern in Toronto where women were admitted but not served. This was explained to us and I bought two draft and gave her one of them, as our waiter suggested. (Apparently, gifts were allowed.) So in keeping with these thoughts, and to put you in a fighting mood before I tell my next story, here is a poem by Danielle Coffyn:

If Adam Picked The Apple

There would be a parade,
a celebration,
a holiday to commemorate
the day he sought enlightenment.
We would not speak of
temptation by the devil, rather,
we would laud Adam’s curiosity,
his desire for adventure
and knowing.
We would feast
on apple-inspired fare:
tortes, chutneys, pancakes, pies.
There would be plays and songs
reenacting his courage.

But it was Eve who grew bored,
weary of her captivity in Eden.
And a woman’s desire
for freedom is rarely a cause
for celebration.

~ ~ ~

Finally, here’s a story I also experienced first-hand, which might be called Können Frauen hier kein Bier kaufen???

MORE: https://www.steinbachonline.com/articles/the-tourist-hotel-a-polish-liqueaur-and-mennonites-in-steinbach-what-do-they-have-in-common

How to Win Friends & Influence AI

Posted on by Mitchell Toews

What does your AI Overview say?

Here’s mine:

AI Overview

(Beep… boop, whirl, crackle!)

Mitchell Toews is a Manitoba-based fiction writer whose debut short story collection, Pinching Zwieback, was published in October 2023: 

  • Background Toews grew up in Steinbach, Manitoba, in his parents’ Mennonite bakery. He’s been published in over 125 literary journals and anthologies, and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize four times. He’s also been a finalist in several major contests and prizes. 
  • Pinching Zwieback Toews’s debut collection is a blend of memory, fable, and trauma that explores life experiences in the fictional Mennonite prairie town of “Hartplatz”. The book has been well-reviewed, appeared on several local bestseller lists, and is being discussed in book clubs. 
  • Other work Toews is currently working on a second collection of short stories and a novel. He’s also collaborating with Phil Hossack on an ekphrastic prose/photographic art book. 
  • Engagement Toews reads at libraries, bookstores, and open mics, and also leads a workshop called “Writing Your Culture”. You can find him on:

So that’s it, then? A writer, a Manitoban. No mention of the rest of my life, including living in Chilliwack, my 47-year marriage to Jan, our kids and grandkids (who will change the world, if they have not already), starting and running a manufacturing business, working in advertising for 20 years and being an active sort… out cursing and getting bruised and exhibiting “warning track power” no matter which sport—a trait that includes a highly selective memory when it comes to skills, courage, and accomplishments. (“Still,” I pout, “at least I always got my uniform dirty.”)

I think AI is right to focus on what it has—I use the internet primarily to promote my writing because, dammmit Jim, that’s just what a writer has to do these days!

I am en grade: AI may suddenly turn on me. Why? Well, I often make fun of the AI that runs my daughter’s refrigerator (“Here’s today’s weather for Zanzibar” it says, after I hack the geo-locator in the settings—hee-hee!). I also throw shade at her snooty 3D printer, and my n’er-do-well regular printer (whom I call “O, Brother, where for art thou?” when it fails to print). These bad relationships may colour AI’s appraisal of me. I am courting AI revenge! I need to let AI feel more seen, be more inclusive to AI, and give them/they/it the benefit of my human capacity to be empathetic, even if they are incapable of emotions. (Does AI get my “O, Brother… ” joke? I think it does, on an intellectual level. Does it laugh? Is AI ticklish? Does AI have a weakness for old Carol Burnett Show vids?)

My other question is, “Has AI read my book? Has AI read all of my published work? Does AI like my Menno-Grit style or are they/is it more inclined towards Sci-fi or Fantasy? (I do get a kind of D&D vibe off of AI, don’t you?)

Anyway, do a search for “AI Overview Your Name” and see what my daughter’s refrigerator thinks of you, you Zanzibarian, you.

Coming Portage & Main Attractions

Posted on by Mitchell Toews

Winnipeg Free Press/McNally Robinson Book Club

With thanks to At Bay Press, The Winnipeg Free Press, and McNally Robinson Booksellers!

Book Club
https://www.winnipegfreepress.com/book-club

Festival Abstract

Posted on by Mitchell Toews

My attendance at literary meetings is rewarding (and nerve-wracking). From a coffee shop tête-à-tête, a living room get-together, a workshop, or a formal literary festival, I advocate these gatherings despite their introvert-daunting nature. 🙂 The blend of writers, published authors, publishers, readers, editors, librarians, booksellers, critics, literary academics, and educators can take many forms, all invigorating,

Here is a summary of my experiences based on my professional journey and what I can offer as a literary speaker, panelist, or workshop presenter for literary events.

(March 30, 2024) Parable Addendum: “An enterprising individual is on a Trans-Atlantic ocean crossing, heading for Halifax. The ship strikes an iceberg and sinks. The entrepreneur survives by floating atop a wooden grand piano lid and immediately upon being rescued and reaching Canada, opens a grand piano lid floatation device manufacturing company. . . “

What I’m saying is that my experiences are just that: my experiences. I am—like raccoons, cockroaches, and many entrepreneurs—a born survivor. Survival instincts ain’t always pretty and depend on circumstances: what you encounter and the resources you can use to overcome your challenges. As in the story of the piano lid, I’m not advocating you follow my specific path. I’m only saying that I did what I felt was best at the time and in my circumstances. I sought as much, and the best professional assistance I could get. Craft is not everything but it is a huge component. The way I approached my literary career as a writer was—and is—constrained by, among many things, talent, location, my age, time, and financial resources.

(Thanks to writer-friend Doug Hawley for his note reminding me to explain the underlying truths of my “curriculum.”)

Mitchell Toews: A Grass Roots POV

  • Background in advertising and corporate communications. Persuasion, copywriting, ad copy, marcom: a perspective on the differences and the similarities vis à vis creative writing and fiction.
  • Writing practice grounded in Canada, small towns, the prairies, the boreal, and the Canadian Mennonite community.
  • Bootstrap artistic journey: shifting from corporate and marketing communications to creative writing—keeping the good, identifying the irrelevant (and the problematic).
  • Returning to early ambitions to write professionally and facing the difficulties of an “Act II” existence.
  • Overcoming ageism and the bias against older emerging writers in CanLit: staying positive and stoic in a challenging environment and resisting the slide into victimhood.
  • Journeyman’s approach: over 800 submissions to the “slush piles” of literary periodicals, contests, and anthologies. (With over 120 resultant publications.)
  • Self-promotion within the context of the small press and independent (non-agented) landscape within Canadian literature.
  • The importance of independent bookstores, libraries, and museums.
  • The Open Mic for writers: more than just a chance to hang out with musicians.
  • Book launches, readings, panel discussions, and book club author nights.
  • Workshops and critique groups.
  • Working with freelance editors (*see Sidebar), press editors, publishers, and publicists.
  • Working with Writers in Residence.
  • Social Media vs. “Shut up and write.”
  • Acquiring blurbs and reviews.
  • Literary and Arts organizations: Guilds, Unions, Councils.
  • Grant writing. Keep it short.
  • Professional development for the rural writer.
  • Creating a personalized workshop topic: seeing your strength. (Mine is “Writing your Culture.”)
  • Paying it forward: building your allyhood, being an artistic comrade.
  • AI: the dog that bites its owner.
  • Wealth: the unspoken truth.
  • Thoughts on “tarnishment” and the personal authorial voice.

*Sidebar. Early on, I was introduced to a young, male author from England with an impressive resume. We struck a deal and he instructed, mentored, and edited me for two years. I invested over $2000 in our online interactions (about 900 emails!!) and this was a transformational step for me—both the commitment and the results.

The right person and work arrangement are critical; James Mcknight was the appropriate choice for me. After our engagement ended, I extended my reach to study with other instructors and mentors, but James was a true lifesaver in my case.

Mitchell Toews: Proud member of The Writers’ Union of Canada

Anthologies

Posted on by Mitchell Toews

When I began submitting stories to lit mags in 2016, I noticed a few calls for submissions to anthologies. Some contests published print anthologies of the longlisted stories. Other anthologies were not open to submissions. Instead, they contained stories the editors had hand-picked for their collection.

I wondered if my work would ever be good enough to submit to an anthology, never mind have a story invited for inclusion.

As these things go, there are varying levels of anthologies. My hardcover Norton Anthology text in 1974 at the University of Victoria would be one level. I did not aim quite that high, but I did offer my work to a few and over time, others asked to include stories I had written.

My stories (18 in total) have been in 16 anthologies. I am not as active in pursuing them as I was, but I still greatly respect the form and enjoy being included in an eclectic and far-flung grouping of authors.

Here’s my printed anthology publication list, to date:

Best of Fiction on the Web: 1976-2017, 2017, U.K.
The Machinery: Fauna, 2017, India
Just Words Vol. 2, 2018, Canada
The Immigrants, 2018, U.S.
We Refugees, 2019, U.S.
The Best Short Stories from the MOON, 2019, U.S.
A Fork in the Road, 2020, U.S.
Just Voices, 2020, Canada
Anthology of Short Stories Summer 2021, 2021, U.K.
This Will Only Take a Minute, 2022, Canada
Small Shifts: Short Stories of Fantastical Transformation, 2022, Canada
Framework of the Human Body, 2022, Canada
I Used to be an Animal Lover, 2023, Australia
Hardboiled and Loaded with Sin, 2023, U.S.
Prine Primed, 2024, U.S.
Nona Heaslip (Exile) Best Canadian Short Stories, 2024 (forthcoming), Canada

I hope to continue to contribute to excellent collections like these. Every time I work with an editor, I find I improve as a writer and my work benefits with some lustre or refinement that it might have otherwise missed.

I have been nominated four times for the renowned Pushcart Prize Best of the Small Presses Anthology but so far, no room under that prestigious umbrella for me—so there’s still a lot to aspire to.

In Praise of Contradictory Characters

Posted on by Mitchell Toews

Humans evolved as viable beings in part through our ability to maximize our senses as a whole. This is unlike many other creatures with specialized areas of excellence: a hummingbird’s flight or an eagle’s vision, for example. We homo sapiens have not been able to supercharge any single sense but have created a life-giving skill of summarization. We’ve been able to condense all of our senses to create almost instantaneous and frequently accurate compound impressions that let us make fast decisions.

When walking in the woods, the leaf-muffled sound of something above makes us instinctively glance in that direction, lower our centre of gravity, and rely on our unconsciously gathered, short-term knowledge of our immediate surroundings to guide us and avoid a falling branch.

These intuitive, “always on” survival instincts are given to us before we are born; these powers are in our genes and the DNA that plots our growth.

We combine all available data to create almost prescient responses to situations and we do it thousands of times each day, even while we sleep. Each second, we are automatically collecting, sorting, saving, discarding and responding—or preparing a response—to the myriad sources of input we insatiably seek to acquire.

Relentless and ruthless, we categorize and make assumptions as a necessary by-product of our rapid-fire process of collect-examine-act. It works! 750-pound sabre tooth felines are extinct but 122-pound soccer moms wearing spandex leggings and hot pink tank tops jog with their stroller-strapped infants through modern society’s statistical valley of death: roadside urban environments.

We depend on our ability to rapidly rate & discern danger or safe haven. This savant-like skill has made our population grow to the point where we have become our own worst enemies.

This island of genius, summarization, extends to our art as well. In fiction, we create characters whose true selves are, to the observant reader, readily visible. Seemingly stereotypical. However, our “bad guys” may at first appear as great dads, loving boyfriends, fearless advocates of the downtrodden, or otherwise trustworthy sorts. And so they may be, until they, like the tree branch, suddenly SNAP!

Like we somehow knew they would.

Bait and switch. Hidden foreshadowing. On Star Trek, the never-seen-before crew member who is featured in the opening segment of the show as a loyal but inconsequential player sets off alarms in our sensory array. We KNOW this character is shown for a reason. This herring with a sunburn is going to: a.) die horribly, b.) be transformed into some unstoppable alien predator, or c.) shapeshift into a lookalike for Kirk, Spock, Bones, or Scotty. The music, dialogue, the point in the story arc, and a dozen other micro telltales (a signature Nimoy eyebrow lift perhaps) give us a sense of certainty that all that remains to discover is the skill with which this yarn is unravelled. We grab a bowl of sugary cereal at the scene break and hurry back when the familiar “back-from-commercial” music entreats us to return and see if maybe there could be some knot in the plot we did not foresee.

Generally, the only way to fool us and our all-seeing assessment tools is to introduce some hitherto unknown, unknowable factor: a force field, a distant planet’s illogical cultural more, or a character flaw for which NO CLUES were ever offered. Shame, screenwriter, for giving us insufficient data. How un-Hitchcock of you! How Bradburyless!

But wait! Is there shame in this lack of situational prep work by the author? Must all characters wear either the white stetson or the black? Is it binary? God and the Devil? Must we be drawn always into our heroic and melodramatic roots over and over again? Can’t there be confusion? Contradiction?

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In my “reads like a novel” collection of short stories, “Pinching Zwieback” (At Bay Press, 2023) there is one recurrent character who is, one could say, clearly contradictory. In her first appearance, “Justy” is a stoic, “old-soul” kind of young mom, whose love and earnest devotion for her family is both beautiful and beguiling. When I read this story to audiences, I can feel her charm and purity making them love her and want her to succeed. So do I.

In the next installment, about mid-way through the collection, we meet her again but this time Justy is the world-worn mother of teenagers in a fish-bowl small town where every means of escape has proven futile. This older Justy smokes cigarettes, drinks liquor, and otherwise spits on male Mennonite overreach into her life. The Grittiness of Mango Chiffon showcases her willingness to confront her male antagonist with laser beam accuracy and we find in her a beacon of hope for the lowly. (A group in which she finds herself, despite her powerful character.) Echoing a figurative page from another story in the book (Breezy) she reminds us of the message found in one of my favourite short stories: “Forgive the weak for they are always fighting.” —Layne Coleman wrote in “Tony Nappo Ruined My Life” (Exile V45.2, in which this story was named the $15K winner of the “Best Canadian Short Fiction.”)

Justy’s final appearance shows us the caustic effect of sorrow, self-pity, and surrender. Human frailty is the currency and Justy is no more the bright, heroic young mother willing to take on any burden and defy all odds against her. Nor is she still the cynical but bold and unyielding knight Perceval; older but still focused on her Holy Grail, though we might see in her some flickering signs of weariness and a quiet desire to set herself apart from the constant meanness.

At the end of Grittiness, we are left imagining her in growing despair, abiding a life among the paltry and the unbecoming. She remains unseen until at last, in Rommdriewe, she reappears finally and is forever seen as broken. The defilement of her earlier selves is complete.

The message in Rommdriewe is, as my writer friend Brian Hughes of Winnipeg said during a critique session of this story, “to not hate the poisoned victim—rather, hate the poison.” Justy is cruelly denied this kindness. In Rommdriewe, her son (now a man) and his aging father come to terms with their fractious relationship. Justy is left outside of this treaty, with only the smallest of hopes left for her to save herself and become the pure girl-woman-truth seeker she once was.

Justy is the undisputed hero of the book and yet she is denied heroic status. She becomes the sin-eater for the others, sacrificing herself to show them how honour and defiance (Trotz) and courage can be used to survive. Even as she slips over the icy edge with little Matt at the end of Fast and Steep, we know we’ll not see her again except as the defamed sin-eater who subtly and without troubling us, gives her soul in exchange for others.

In the end, maybe Justy is the opposite of a contradictory character. Perhaps, somehow, she becomes the hero made perfect, without seeking perfection. Justy is no faux male Jesus vainly declaring anguish while knowing his everlasting fate is secure. No, Justy’s stoicism is as pure and giving as her motherly love and her endlessly heroic trotzijch mettle in the face of all adversity against her loved ones.

In this river of love flowing uphill, Justy remains true to her innermost self and is in this way the ultimate contradictory character.

Advice from an Emerging Artist

Posted on by Mitchell Toews

On Thursday, February 29 poet and essayist Ariel Gordon of Winnipeg and I motored to Brandon, Manitoba to present workshops and readings at the Western Manitoba Regional Library downtown branch. We represented our mutual publisher, At Bay Press.

It was an outstanding event, well-attended by an enthusiastic group. Both Ariel and I have posted about it on Facebook, Instagram (prosebytoews), X, and elsewhere. Ariel did a poetry workshop on urban ecosystems and I introduced my break-out session on “Writing Your Culture.” Both of these programs had full classrooms and the reading was also—collectively speaking—pleasingly plump.

We had a Q & A at the “end of regulation time.” (In my imagination, Brian Propp scored the winner, assisted by Ralph Krentz. . . For all you Wheat Kings hockey fans out there.) I really enjoyed the conversation.

One of the questions was concerning “advice for young writers.” Ariel made some valuable suggestions in response. When it was my turn, I held back on expressing my immediate reaction to the embedded inference that all emerging writers are “young.” Of course, many are, but just as we no longer use ONLY male pronouns when discussing a group. . . “If a writer wants to succeed, he must blah-blah-blah,” I find it inappropriate and incorrect to add the fuzzy modifier, “young.” Presumptive gender-fixing (he-him-his) now sounds foreign and antiquated to our ears, and I long for the time when “young” and “emerging” are not used as synonyms for early career artists.

Hot air rises. Heat travels in any direction. When we say “heat rises” in an assured, generalizing, scientific-sounding manner, we become General Wrong of the Wrongsville Army.

Okay, mini-rant over.

I gave several points of advice and I was pleased with the repartee, as John Prine might sing. This morning, over a cup of familiar, at-home coffee, I thought of another way to answer, and it goes a little sumpin’ like this <guitar lead-in>:

“On a business trip to the Green Building Conference in Chicago about 15 Marches ago, my colleague and I stopped in at a pizza restaurant. The place was packed and full of loud hubbub and stratified layers of cigar smoke. We opted for outdoor seating, under the radiant red glare of heaters.

As we waited, we watched a local resident at work. A fat, filthy Norway Rat was trying to free a pizza carton that was wedged beneath a car tire. Grunting, sniffing, scurrying, its pink tail waved and curled and flexed with intense determination.

Pausing for breath, it sat on thick hanches and pondered. Whiskers twitched in a nature-copies-Pixar way. Abruptly, it went to the loose end of the box and, clamping down with white canines, tugged repeatedly like a tow truck trying to jerk a car out of the ditch. Snarling with effort, the noisy activity attracted one of its swarmmates to the scene of the pie.

Without hesitation, Rat Due, as we named the newcomer, immediately joined Rat Uno and in seconds they were pulling in perfect unison, a rodent duet. Outmatched at last, the box lid gave way in ripping surrender. Rats Uno and Due plundered the contents and made good their tail-waving getaway.

My advice to emerging artists: Sometimes you are Rat Uno, and sometimes you are Rat Due, but don’t just sit in the comfort of the mischief and watch.“

CHEERS to playwright and English & Creative Writing Asst. Prof. Dale Lakevold. He brought along a swarm of talented students from Brandon University, and like the Marino’s Pizza he supplied before the event, his contribution made our day. Thanks too to WMRL Mgr. of Programming & Community Svcs., Alex Rogowsky who prepped and managed our twinkly evening.

Libraries & BiblioCommons

Posted on by Mitchell Toews

Want to borrow PINCHING ZWIEBACK from your local library? NO PROBLEM!

Services like BiblioCommons are linked to At Bay Press and a copy can go to your local library in Canada, the US, the UK, or Australia. ALMOST ANYWHERE. Just request Pinching Zwieback by Mitchell Toews (At Bay Press, 2023) and you can get it. . . In Burlington, Springfield (all of them), Come by Chance, WaWa, Walla Walla, and Wallaby Junction.

Okay, I made the last one up. But seriously, it’s AVAILABLE!

(Or BUY it here: https://bit.ly/BUYpinchingzwieback)