Michelle Elrick

On October 22, 2011 Johanna Skibsrud will be in Winnipeg to launch her new book of short stories This Will be Difficult to Explain (Hamish Hamilton, 2011) as part of the Manitoba Writers’ Guild In Dialogue reading series. I will be reading alongside her that evening, from my new novel manuscript.

Johanna is both a poet and fiction writer, having published two books of poetry, one novel (The Sentimentalists, winner of the 2010 Giller prize) and now this new collection of short stories. For myself, a poet in the final stages of drafting my first novel, I look forward to hearing our works read aloud together, listening with a special interest to the play of voice, language and imagery that is sure to emerge.

The reading takes place at 7:30pm at the Winnipeg Free Press News Cafe, Saturday October 22. Tickets can be reserved through the Manitoba Writers’ Guild office (more info here).

I am pleased to have been awarded the John Hirsch Award for Most Promising Manitoba Writer at the Manitoba Book Awards gala on April 19th.

Thank you for the incredible honour!

Thanks to CV2 magazine for the cover feature and interview in the Spring 2011 issue. CV2 is the Canadian journal of poetry and critical writing, publishing new poetry, interviews, essays and reviews in both English and French. Back in 2009 CV2 and The Muses’ Company hosted a joint manuscript contest called “Show me the Book,” which provided a book contract to the grand prize winner, and a feature on the cover of the magazine. To Speak was the winning manuscript.

To read an excerpt of the interview or order a copy of CV2 click here.

Just announced… I have been shortlisted for the 2011 John Hirsch Award for Most Promising Manitoba Writer. The John Hirsch Award is an annual award established by the Manitoba Foundation for the Arts with a bequest from the late John Hirsch, co-founder of the Manitoba Theatre Centre, and its first Artistic Director from 1958 to 1966. It is one of many awards presented at the Manitoba Book Awards gala on April 17th.

Fingers crossed…

The new year has once again brought new things. The warmest of them being a new studio in Winnipeg’s historic Exchange District where my desk now sits. The sixth floor space faces East toward the Red River and catches segments of winter sun rising between the Richardson, Canwest and MTS buildings that dominate the view. I don’t mind these monstrous buildings as much as I thought I would. In fact, their overbearing nature makes me notice what isn’t so obvious in the scene: the CN track crossing into St. Boniface, the cathedral dome across the river, the graffiti on the roof of The Royal Albert Arms Hotel and the pigeons that spend the day huddled around the roof vents of the Dingwall building. The radiator works far better than it needs to, such that on cold days (below -20C) I need to open the window in order to be able to work without the sweat beading on my nose. The window sills are particularly nice, wide enough for two people to sit side-by-side with their feet also seated on the stone ledge just below. In fact, that was where I spent the first fifteen minutes of this new year, sitting in the open window with a bottle of champagne, watching Roman candles shoot off outside of Whiskey Dix on Main Street. A quiet start, to be sure, but a welcome quiet. There wasn’t anyone standing in the room behind me telling me “Come in, already. You’re making me nervous.” Just me in the opening to the crisp winter night, sharing the never-dark company of those three towering giants, watching the few bright stars in the sky between them and the steam clouds of their exhale. A good start. Good year.

New and improved tour dates on the Listen page.

This Fall I’ll be on the road with my former band mate and current friend, Jenny Berkel. Jenny is a poet of the musical variety, bender of words to melody, stretcher of images across fifths and thirds. She is quite fantastic and it’s a real treat to get to travel with her again. At many of the performances we’ll be giving, I will be reading from To Speak, and also backing Jenny up with banjo and harmony.

Songs and poems are a natural pair. The song sweeps you in, the poem pulls you down, anchoring you a moment in time. Then the song picks you up, loosens your thoughts to wander through the chords, guiding the drift with image and story. And the poem again–solid yet elusive, full of pause and silence. Jenny and I have been fortunate enough to have traveled much of Canada and the UK together over the past two years writing and performing. Deciding to tour my book and her record at the same time is deciding to take both the song and the poem out of their usual contexts and allow them to create a new space in opposition and compliment to each other.

We’ll be in Eastern Canada for three weeks late August through early September (for the sounds of her new record Gather Your Bones, you can click here).

The best way to buy a book is to put on your best and most comfortable pair of shoes, walk (take an umbrella if necessary) to your local independent bookstore and check the shelves. If the book you’re looking for isn’t there, order it from the book-lover at the counter. Chances are they own the store and you will get service far beyond what you’ve gotten used to shopping at one of those places everyone knows the name of. It may take a couple of weeks for the book to come in, but in the meantime you will get to experience the feeling of anticipation, something that has become so rare in the immediacy of our culture, we have all but forgotten the sweetness of it. The added sweetness is having that anticipation satisfied with the book finally in your hands: paper, ink, texture, scent. You could almost eat it, it smells so good.

Independent bookstores are dropping like flies, current characters in an old story: chain store advertises widely, fills the collective imagination with logo and slogan, drives consumers to one of many locations, sells at a cheaper price, starves Mom and Pop’s shop down the street. The real shame is that as we lose our independent bookstores, we also lose specialization, author readings and literary fairs. Just as we all get lost in the maze of aisles and multiple levels in the big store, so these cultural events are lost in the program of buy, discount, buy.

With your best and most comfortable shoes on, who minds a walk to three different independents – one for the travel guide to Paris, one for the new illustrated Marie-Louise Gay book for the nieces, one for that rare first edition of Zarathustra? Maybe you’ll even have a chat with the proprietor about what new poetry book just came in. It might cost a buck more than the discount rate on Amazon, but you’ll have had a day of pleasure, walking in the rain with your best and most comfortable shoes on. You’ll have something to look forward to after next payday, you won’t have to pay with your credit card, and if you sign up for the store’s mailing list, you’ll be personally invited to the author reading they are hosting in September. If this sounds at all unattractive, perhaps you just need a new pair of shoes.

“The internet. It’s, you know…” she waves her hand at a passing pair of crows, “…up there somewhere.”

Omnipotent, all-knowing, it answers when you ask–or better yet, google. It dwells in the clouds, up above where the golden streets used to be. You can’t see it, yet it’s always accessible, waiting for the pious hands – crooked fingers that type instead of fold. We designed it like god so it would be easy to recognize. Oh my Internet. Here is another faithful site.

Thanks to Don, Rachel and especially David for advice and help in making this website work.