UNDER THE LIVING SKIES: Conversations . . . Between You, Me, and the Fence Post

Bert McNair

Description

UNDER THE LIVING SKIES: Conversations . . . Between You, Me, and the Fence Post

Fifty-Three Short Stories from the prairies: In his first collection of short stories, UNDER THE LIVING SKIES, Bert McNair adds a unique voice to the Canadian landscape. "We consider oursselves travelers, not tourists. We visit, we tell stories, we build memories, and say this is our life." This is Bert's story, a family story, the story we all have inside us.

Sujets

• Vie de famille
• Parentalité et Éducation des Enfants
• Personal Memoirs
• Biography
• Autobiography

Informations

• Publié par: eBookIt.com
• Date de parution: 02 octobre 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781775219408
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

UNDER THE LIVING SKIES
Conversations . . . Between You, Me, and the Fence Post.
Bert McNair

Ottawa • Canada
 
Copyright © 2019 by Bert McNair
 
All rights reserved.
 
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
 
For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed
“Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
 
MSMP Book Publishers
316 Lorry Greenberg Dr. #110
Ottawa, ON K1T 2P4
Canada
 
www.BertMcNair.com
 
 
Book Design by Sharkadelic Design
www.SharkadelicDesign.com Front cover: “Fog On The Prairie” photo courtesy of Jim Knelson www.JimKnelson.com
Back cover: Author portrait courtesy of Chantelle Rivers www.facebook.com/ChantelleRiversPhotography
 
Manufactured in Canada
 
Under The Living Skies by Bert McNair -- 1st digital edition
ISBN 978-1-7752194-0-8
 
 
 
 
Dedicated to my Family.
 
The title comes from the rural prairies. When you tell secrets you say, “Listen, just between you, me, and the fence post . . .” This was not to be talked around. Of course, you knew the neighbours would soon hear about it. There are no secrets in the country. We don’t know a lot of people, but we know them well.
― BERT M c Nair
 
 
 
Contents
 
 
Introduction
The Plainsman
1 - 1 Wind on the Prairies
1 - 2 Joyful Invaders
1 - 3 Living the Brit
1 - 4 Grandpa Leister
1 - 5 Walking in Winter
1 - 6 Sundog Mystery
1 - 7 The Longest Day of the Year
1 - 8 The End of the Long Hot Summer
1 - 9 The New Moon
1 - 10 Post War Boomer
Church and Religion
2 - 1 Rushing To a New Age
2 - 2 Church Influence
2 - 3 Destiny, Heaven and Earth
2 - 4 Sunday Morning
2 - 5 The Lord’s Day
2 - 6 Take Your Burden To The Lord
2 - 7 On My Knees
2 - 8 Easter Sunday in Melfort
2 - 9 Easter Sunday in Melfort Again
2 - 10 Have You Ever Been Religious?
2 - 11 Sunday, The Lord’s Day
Church and Religion, Again
3 - 1 How Do You Get To Heaven
3 - 2 Unfathomable Mystery
3 - 3 Mystery is Mystery
3 - 4 Ear Wigs and Mystery
3 - 5 The Wealthy Man of the East
3 - 6 Dark Days of Lent
3 - 7 On Faith
3 - 8 Eternal Life
3 - 9 Going to Heaven
Old Warrior Stories
4 - 1 Anger and Sadness
4 - 2 Old Warrior and Little Child
4 - 3 One Step Ahead of Depression
4 - 4 The Warrior, the Monk, and the Gorilla
4 - 5 The Healing War
4 - 6 Blackness in the Night
4 - 7 Taking the Long Way Home
4 - 8 The Old Teacher
4 - 9 Two Kings
4 - 10 Passing Demons
Back To The Beginning
5 - 1 Losing a Partner
5 - 2 A Trail Walk
5 - 3 Another Wednesday
5 - 4 Back To Creation
5 - 5 The Decision
5 - 6 Desires and Dreams
5 - 7 A Compliment Sir
5 - 8 Senior Land
5 - 9 Our Christmas Season
5 - 10 A New Destination
5 - 11 Sorrow, Anger, and Compassion
5 - 12 Story Telling
5 - 13 Waking Hopeful
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
 
 
● – ●
Introduction
I ’ ve been writing for a few years.
In high school, grade 10, the English Teacher gave us an assignment to write a short descriptive paragraph or two explaining how to do something. We had to stand in front of the class to present it. I wrote “ How to Polish Your Shoes . ” Sit in the middle of the kitchen floor, spread newspaper all around, be sure you have polish, a brush, and a cloth, etc. It was a good little piece that entertained my classmates and even made the teacher smile.
In Teachers College, a couple years later, we had to write a one-page story of our own choosing. I wrote about a young farm hand who took off with his boss ’ s horse and buggy and wasn ’ t seen for three days. The boss finally decided he had to report him when here he comes up the lane and with a big smile tells the boss, “ This here ’ s my wife Katy. ”
His name was Cal.
I handed it in and forgot about it. A month later the editor of the College Yearbook stopped me in the hall to ask if they could use the story in the yearbook. I was startled and said sure. “ Did you copy the story from somewhere? ” she asked me. I told her no and she went away. A couple days later the English Prof sidled up to me in the hall and asked the same question, “ Did you copy that story from somewhere? ”
I told him no. They didn ’ t print the story. I guess they didn ’ t believe me and were worried about copyright.
Thirty years later in Meadow Lake this story about Cal and Katy came back to me. In a frenzy I sat at the kitchen table and rewrote it almost word for word.
But the birthplace of my writing is Montreal.
Sitting in a strange apartment in desperation I grabbed a pen and paper and started writing whatever came to mind. One word sentences all down the page, page after page. I later showed it to a friend and he calmly told me it looked like a jazz poem.
I went on to hand-write five or six hundred pages telling the truth about everyone I knew, including myself. Three months later in a cottage somewhere in the hills outside Montreal I burned 90% of those pages in the fireplace. They were too much for the world.
I have a few little books, hand printed, from my Montreal days.
I finally acknowledged myself as a writer in Meadow Lake where I became friends with a Story Teller. He organized a writers group in the town and I joined. We met regularly to hear each other ’ s stories.
We had four or five workshops with well-known Saskatchewan writers who were sponsored by the Library to visit and do a reading for the general public on Friday night, then run a writers workshop on Saturday. We had to present a few pages of writing ahead of time and then the writer would critique it in a seminar. It is a humbling experience to have a published writer and your colleagues take your work seriously and provide criticism.
I write because I cannot not write. I have the same desperation I first felt in Montreal if I don ’ t write. I carry a little book with me so I can write when the need hits me.
I write every day. It used to be three pages. Now I write one page. In the Writers ’ Group we called it “ Morning Pages ” or “ Rapid Writing. ” You sit down and write. Don ’ t stop, keep the pen moving. It ’ s amazing what comes out. I think of it as exercising my writing muscle.
The bulk of my writing is administrative writing – reports, meeting minutes, correspondence, that sort of thing. This is my work. As administrators we write a lot. I do creative writing on the side to relax.
In fact, I have boxes of writing.
I still have all my writing – my Morning Pages – three boxes in the basement. Fran wonders why I carry this stuff around, but I can ’ t let it go yet. I look through it maybe once a year, maybe every couple of years.
Most of it is not very good, some is embarrassing, but there are bits and pieces that sparkle. I can ’ t throw it away.
I also love reading.
I read a lot, two or three books a month. I have two or three on the go at the same time, mostly fiction, novels.
I read everything, thrillers, detective stories, sci-fi, fantasy, young adult, old texts, scriptures, westerns, and poetry. I read anything and everything. I need to have a book with me.
Right now I ’ m reading Karen Armstrong ’ s A History of God , Mark Twain ’ s Huckleberry Finn , and a novel set in Japan in the 1850 ’ s called Blossoms and Shadows by Lian Hearn.
Three books have been my teachers:
Pierre Burton ’ s The Joy of Writing. He sets it out and gives clear advice on how to write.
Stephen King ’ s On Writing is an amazing book. I ’ ve read two and a half Stephen King novels. I can ’ t read his work because it gets under my skin. But he was very clear and precise on how one should proceed to be a writer.
The third book On Being a Writer I do not remember the author. It was published in 1935 by a lady who ran writers ’ workshops in California. I picked it up at a used bookstore on Broadway in Saskatoon. I didn ’ t know what I had for the longest time. She set out exercises to follow if you want to be a writer.
The short stories I write, one, two and three pagers, come from these experiences. I set out twice to write something longer – a story that continues into a novel, but I do not yet have the skill to put it together. We don ’ t all have to be novelists and write three and four hundred page stories. I like these quick little jiggers that paint a picture and then are gone. They are sketches. Maybe one day one, or two, or three, will turn into a longer story.
I was told by one of the visiting writers that characters in these sketches will come back to haunt me and they do. Every so often one or the other walks through my brain to see if I ’ m still around.
Finding time to write is a concern.
I work full time. I am an educational administrator. My writing time is limited. I am not one of those who get up a 5:00 o ’ clock to write for two hours before going to work. I can ’ t stand the pace. I tire at work. I owe my employer my best. They are after all, providing a decent income for me and my family. My work is my first priority. It may sound old-fashioned, but that ’ s the way it is.
And I write the old-fashioned way.
90% of my creative writing is long hand. The first edit is when I enter it on computer.
For me, writing is a private act. I prefer to sit behind a closed door; my preference would be a locked door, where I will not be startled by visitors.
The little sketches come when characters walk through my brain. I grab a pen and follow them around recording what I see and hear. The more detail I record, the better it is. I describe the character as clearly as I see them. Sometimes it is very clear, sometimes, only a glimpse. You have to be very fast.
I practiced in a Mall in Saskatoon one day w