Give Canadian books for Christmas

Give Canadian books for Christmas. A nov­el idea some might say, but I’ve been giv­ing Canadian books as gifts since I im­mig­rated to the coun­try in 1971.

Canadian books in­clude every genre and can evoke every emo­tion. I’ve giggled, sniffled and even been creeped out on oc­ca­sion. Canadian au­thors have also in­formed and en­lightened me about our vast and var­ied mul­ti­cul­tur­al coun­try and provided in­sight into the hu­man psyche.

Most of my fam­ily lives in the USA. What’s at the top of their Christmas wish list each year? Books by Canadian au­thors. And chocol­ate, but that’s an­oth­er story.

This year, re­l­at­ives ran­ging in age from 13 to 77 will be get­ting Canadian books from this house­hold (and not just ones writ­ten by me or my partner).

I come from a long line of read­ers. Being read a bed time story was a favourite

Thanks to Canadian au­thors Steve Pitt and Kristen den Hartog for the idea, text and image.

part of my early fam­ily routine. I re­mem­ber the ex­cite­ment of fi­nally be­ing able to read books on my own. And the naughty thrill of drap­ing a tow­el over my bed­side lamp so I could do so late into the night.

Of course, Mom saw the light un­der the door. But in­stead of giv­ing me heck, she said it was okay to read but not to start a fire.

Turns out read­ing in bed is a fam­ily tra­di­tion. My re­l­at­ives tend to travel in herds. In the past, five or more have come to vis­it at once. And it doesn’t mat­ter if they sleep on the pseudo-Murphy bed in the sun room, on the futon in the base­ment, on the couch or on a cot, every one of them reads be­fore they go to sleep. Finding enough bed­side lights is more of an is­sue than round­ing up bed­ding and pillows.

Personally, I can’t think of a bet­ter way to spend a winter even­ing than cuddled up with a book by a Canadian au­thor. So, if it isn’t already part of your hol­i­day ritu­al, con­sider giv­ing Canadian books as gifts this Christmas.

I pos­ted parts of this blog in 2011 and 2015 but I still be­lieve in giv­ing books — es­pe­cially Canadian ones — as gifts! 

 

 

Canadian books make great Christmas gifts

Give Canadian books for Christmas. A nov­el idea some might say, but I’ve been giv­ing Canadian books as gifts for more than 40 years.

I come from a long line of read­ers. Being read to was a treas­ured part of my early child­hood. And I can still re­mem­ber the thrill of be­ing able to read on my own any time I wanted! When I was 10 I de­cided that in­cluded late at night.

Not sure if read­ing past bed­time was al­lowed, I draped a tow­el over the lamp on my night table to avoid de­tec­tion. Mom still saw the light un­der the door. But in­stead of giv­ing me heck, she said it was okay to read but not to start a fire.

Canadian books cov­er every genre and evoke every emo­tion. I’ve giggled, sniffled and even been creeped out on oc­ca­sion. Canadian au­thors have also in­formed and en­lightened me about our vast and var­ied mul­ti­cul­tur­al coun­try and provided in­sight into the hu­man psyche.

Although 99% of our books are currently living in a storage unit, here are a few of the Canadian books I found in a 60 second cruise around our apartment.
Although 99% of our books are cur­rently liv­ing in a stor­age unit, here are a few of the Canadian books I found in a 60 second cruise around our apartment.

Most of my fam­ily lives in the USA but, even so, Canadian books are al­ways on their Christmas wish lists. Some I’m wrap­ping as presents this year include:

Light Years: Memoir of a Modern Lighthouse Keeper by Caroline Woodward

Tide Rips and Back Eddies by Bill Proctor and Yvonne Maximchuk

Once They Were Hats by Frances Backhouse

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

Watershed Moments: A Pictorial History of Courtenay and District by Christine Dickinson, Deborah Griffiths, Judy Hagen and Catherine Siba

There are oth­ers I can’t men­tion as my part­ner, fel­low au­thor Rick James, reads my blogs and would find out what he’s get­ting for Christmas!

With the ex­cep­tion of Station Eleven, which was pub­lished in 2014, the above books are all fall 2015 re­leases. But many Canadian books are what I call ‘keep­ers’ and have per­man­ent homes on my bookshelf.

So if you’re in­ter­ested in Canadian clas­sics, here are a few of my favorites:

Who Has Seen the Wind by W.O. Mitchell

The Stone Angel by Margaret Laurence

Never Cry Wolf by Farley Mowat

Wolf Willow: A History, a Story, and a Memory of the Last Plains Frontier by Wallace Stegner

Books open the door to oth­er worlds, both ima­gin­ary and real, as well as dif­fer­ent ways of think­ing, eat­ing and mov­ing. They are com­pan­ions on dark, winter nights and al­low us to es­cape the drudgery or demons of every­day life. I can think of no bet­ter gift.

 

 

 

On the Edge

A couple of years ago I worked on a photo-doc­u­ment­ary pro­ject with pho­to­graph­er Barry Peterson. We in­ter­viewed and pho­to­graphed people who were home­less, had been home­less or were in danger of be­com­ing homeless.

The stor­ies were mov­ing in a way I nev­er ex­pec­ted. I learned that no mat­ter where or how a per­son lived, they still had hopes and dreams, just like I do. They ex­per­i­enced joy, sad­ness, fear. They did whatever was ne­ces­sary to survive.

Every October I post one of the stor­ies and pho­tos from that pro­ject on my blog. I do this to hon­our the people I met, to re­cog­nize their strength in the face of ad­versity and their abil­ity to find hu­mour in the bleak­est of moments.

Below is Jessica’s story. I got an email from her last year. She’d had her op­er­a­tion, was do­ing some vo­lun­teer work and was dat­ing. There were still chal­lenges in her life but she was happy.

Jessica, age 45 

      Jessica had it all: a spouse, a car, a job and a house in Europe. But every time her life seemed per­fect, it fell apart. At 28, di­vorced and un­em­ployed, a friend stuck a needle in her arm to make her feel bet­ter. That was the be­gin­ning of a 12-year cycle of drug ad­dic­tion, re­hab, build­ing a life and then dis­ap­pear­ing into the streets and drugs again.

As a home­less per­son Jessica has been beaten un­con­scious and ur­in­ated on in Victoria, wit­nessed murders in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside and got­ten food pois­on­ing from dump­ster diving. She’s been pro­nounced DOA three times and, while liv­ing in a Courtenay tent city, bull­dozers flattened her tent and be­long­ings. “When you’re home­less people look at you like you’re not worthy of breath­ing the same air,” she says. “But I’ve met lots of in­tel­li­gent, ar­tic­u­late people on the street. Heroin and co­caine don’t discriminate.”

Two years ago Jessica real­ized the only way to beat her drug ad­dic­tion was to deal with the fact that she was a fe­male stuck in a man’s body. She’d grown up in Ontario and Victoria and was a jock in high school. But when she was 17 her moth­er dis­covered her hid­den girl clothes. After that trau­mat­ic scene, Jessica did everything she could to hide her sexu­al­ity. But 25 years later she knew she had two choices: live her life as a wo­man or com­mit sui­cide. A street nurse helped her ob­tain hor­mone ther­apy and Jessica moved to Courtenay to make a clean start. She cur­rently lives in a small base­ment room, is drug-free and eagerly await­ing her va­gino­plasty. Once her trans­ition is com­plete she wants to be­come an esthetician.

Jessica’s grate­ful to be off the street but life’s a struggle. After rent, there’s less than $100 for gro­cer­ies and with “38D boobs and a voice like Joe Cocker,” she’s of­ten faced with cruel and even vi­ol­ent be­ha­viour when out in pub­lic. “It’s sad that people fear and ri­dicule trans­gendered people,” she says. “It’s some­thing that hap­pens at birth, not a mat­ter of choice. I’m happy now; I wish people could ac­cept that.”