How I got my longest writing gig, why I kept it and what I learned

As of­ten hap­pens, I found the an­swer to my prob­lem in a book. I’d re­cently moved and couldn’t find a job. The heroine in the nov­el I was read­ing faced sim­il­ar cir­cum­stances and solved her di­lemma by tak­ing in laundry.

Domestic chores rank near the one mil­lion mark on my list of fun things to do. But, in the pre-com­puter days of 1989, there was a sur­pris­ing need – and luc­rat­ive pay­off – for people who knew their way around a key­board. So I de­cided to take in typing.

The first step in my self-em­ploy­ment plan was to call the Comox Valley Record to place an ad. But in­stead of reach­ing clas­si­fieds, my call was dir­ec­ted to the ed­it­or. I’d freel­anced for Bruce Winfield when he was ed­it­or at the North Island Gazette in Port Hardy. We struck up a con­ver­sa­tion and he in­vited me to cov­er arts and en­ter­tain­ment for the paper.

I had no idea the freel­ance gig would last more than a quarter cen­tury and in­volve writ­ing more than 720,000 words in ap­prox­im­ately 1,200 arti­cles — the equi­val­ent of 10 books.

It wasn’t al­ways easy. The first obstacle was to over­come my some­times pain­ful shy­ness. But I can now ask any­one any­thing and am al­ways sur­prised at what they’re will­ing to tell me. If I had $1 for every time I heard, “Don’t put this in the pa­per…,” I’d be a wealthy woman.

Older in­ter­viewees were sur­prised I was so young and young in­ter­viewees were sur­prised I was so old. I spoke to people who were sick, dy­ing or rid­ing high on their first glim­mer of suc­cess. I learned to ask ques­tions and really listen, how to take notes in a dark theatre and to al­ways have three pens in my purse just in case.

I learned how to sniff paint­ings when it’s dif­fi­cult to de­term­ine if they’re oil or ac­ryl­ic, was fed Gut-Buster Cookies and dis­covered that a sur­pris­ingly high per­cent­age of comedi­ans are cranky offstage.

There were some dodgy mo­ments. Most in­ter­views took place in the person’s home or stu­dio and more than once I doubted the wis­dom of be­ing alone with them. For a month I was stalked by a men­tally un­stable artist and twice a man fol­lowed me out of the com­munity theatre mut­ter­ing ob­scen­it­ies and hint­ing  at what we could do if alone.

But most of the time cov­er­ing arts for the Record was so much fun I couldn’t be­lieve I was get­ting paid to do it. My ap­pre­ci­ation for the cre­at­ive pro­cess and the people who prac­tise it in­creased im­mensely and I con­tin­ue to be amazed at the artist­ic di­versity and rich­ness of the Comox Valley.

One of the most im­port­ant things I learned was how to write a cer­tain amount of words by a cer­tain time. I can’t count the even­ings I went straight to my desk after a late night show to write a re­view. It didn’t mat­ter if it was mid­night and I was tired. Newspaper dead­lines wait for no man, wo­man or child. Word count and dead­lines are the holy grail of pro­fes­sion­al writ­ing wheth­er it’s for a news­pa­per, magazine or book.

Writing for news­pa­pers has launched many a writ­ing ca­reer. It’s a sure-fire way to learn how to write on de­mand, not just when the muse pays a vis­it. It can be crazy, chal­len­ging and very re­ward­ing. But after 25 years, I’ve de­veloped a fond­ness for in-depth re­search and the ex­plor­a­tion longer stor­ies al­low. So I’ve said good­bye to the Record to make more time for writ­ing books.

An ad­apt­a­tion of my farewell art­icle for the Record. 

 

 

Drawn to Sea by Yvonne Maximchuk

Drawn to Sea: Paintbrush to Chainsaw — Carving Out a life on BC’s Rugged Raincoast, by Yvonne Maximchuk is an in­tim­ate glimpse of mod­ern day pi­on­eer­ing seen through an artist’s eye.

Drawn to Sea is published by Caitlin Press
Drawn to Sea is pub­lished by Caitlin Press

In the 1980s Maximchuk was a single mom liv­ing in White Rock, BC. She sup­por­ted her two chil­dren by selling her paint­ings and pot­tery and teach­ing art. Then she met crab fish­er­man Al Munro. When Munro shif­ted to prawn fish­ing fur­ther up the coast, he in­vited Maximchuk, as well as Theda and Logan to ac­com­pany him.

Their new home — a float house only ac­cess­ible by boat or sea­plane – was anchored off Gilford Island in the Broughton Archipelago, a wil­der­ness area east of north­ern Vancouver Island.

Maximchuk rowed her chil­dren to the to the one-room school and ad­jus­ted to life with a gen­er­at­or and the fact that the nearest gro­cery store was a two-hour boat ride away. She also soaked up the beauty and tran­quil­ity of the sparsely pop­u­lated area, which soon in­fused her artwork.

But when Munro and Maximchuk split up, she faced a tough de­cision. Remain in the place she’d come to love or re­turn to an easi­er life in the Lower Mainland? If she stayed, two ma­jor pur­chases were re­quired: a chain­saw and a boat.

So began the chal­lenge of be­ing self-suf­fi­cient in an out-of-the-way pock­et of the BC coast. Maximchuk was buoyed by the friend­ship of oth­ers liv­ing nearby in­clud­ing coastal icons Alexandra Morton and Billy Proctor. Proctor, with his “If I can’t do it, no one can,” at­ti­tude was es­pe­cially help­ful and al­ways had whatever part was needed to fix any­thing and knew just how to do it.

When Maximchuk re­united with Munro, they bought land from Proctor and sweated and swore to­geth­er as they built a truly hand­craf­ted house. One that they still live in today and that now in­cludes Maximchuk’s SeaRose Studio and a lush garden.

Drawn to Sea is an hon­est, af­fec­tion­ate story about love, the land­scape and a gutsy wo­man find­ing her way in the ebb and flow of life. Maximchuk re­counts the chal­lenges and re­wards of liv­ing and work­ing in an isol­ated area and trolling with Proctor off the Queen Charlotte Islands. Nature and wild­life is nev­er far away; she’s found cou­gars in her yard, been eye to eye with a killer whale and shared a fin­shake with a dolphin.

The book is funny too. I laughed out loud over the stor­ies of Maximchuk dangling Proctor over­board in or­der to cap­ture an es­pe­cially large Japanese float, the kinks in her wed­ding day that failed to dis­pel the joy and one of her best Christmas gifts ever – an or­ange sur­viv­al suit.

Maximchuk writes with a painter’s eye and a poet’s voice cre­at­ing a richly re­ward­ing sense of place, time and emo­tion. Drawn to Sea is a BC coastal clas­sic that de­serves a place on the shelf next to M. Wylie Blanchet’s A Curve of Time. 

For more in­form­a­tion vis­it www​.yvon​nemax​imchuk​.com.

Paula and Yvonne at a Drawn to Sea book signing. Photo by Theda Phoenix.
Paula and Yvonne at a Drawn to Sea book sign­ing. Photo by Theda Phoenix.

 

Drawn to Sea by Yvonne Maximchuk

Drawn to Sea: Paintbrush to Chainsaw — Carving Out a life on BC’s Rugged Raincoast, by Yvonne Maximchuk is an in­tim­ate glimpse of mod­ern day pi­on­eer­ing seen through an artist’s eye.

Drawn to Sea is published by Caitlin Press
Drawn to Sea is pub­lished by Caitlin Press

In the 1980s Maximchuk was a single mom liv­ing in White Rock, BC. She sup­por­ted her two chil­dren by selling her paint­ings and pot­tery and teach­ing art. Then she met crab fish­er­man Al Munro. When Munro shif­ted to prawn fish­ing fur­ther up the coast, he in­vited Maximchuk, as well as Theda and Logan to ac­com­pany him.

Their new home — a float house only ac­cess­ible by boat or sea­plane – was anchored off Gilford Island in the Broughton Archipelago, a wil­der­ness area east of north­ern Vancouver Island.

Maximchuk rowed her chil­dren to the to the one-room school and ad­jus­ted to life with a gen­er­at­or and the fact that the nearest gro­cery store was a two-hour boat ride away. She also soaked up the beauty and tran­quil­ity of the sparsely pop­u­lated area, which soon in­fused her artwork.

But when Munro and Maximchuk split up, she faced a tough de­cision. Remain in the place she’d come to love or re­turn to an easi­er life in the Lower Mainland? If she stayed, two ma­jor pur­chases were re­quired: a chain­saw and a boat.

So began the chal­lenge of be­ing self-suf­fi­cient in an out-of-the-way pock­et of the BC coast. Maximchuk was buoyed by the friend­ship of oth­ers liv­ing nearby in­clud­ing coastal icons Alexandra Morton and Billy Proctor. Proctor, with his “If I can’t do it, no one can,” at­ti­tude was es­pe­cially help­ful and al­ways had whatever part was needed to fix any­thing and knew just how to do it.

When Maximchuk re­united with Munro, they bought land from Proctor and sweated and swore to­geth­er as they built a truly hand­craf­ted house. One that they still live in today and that now in­cludes Maximchuk’s SeaRose Studio and a lush garden.

Drawn to Sea is an hon­est, af­fec­tion­ate story about love, the land­scape and a gutsy wo­man find­ing her way in the ebb and flow of life. Maximchuk re­counts the chal­lenges and re­wards of liv­ing and work­ing in an isol­ated area and trolling with Proctor off the Queen Charlotte Islands. Nature and wild­life is nev­er far away; she’s found cou­gars in her yard, been eye to eye with a killer whale and shared a fin­shake with a dolphin.

The book is funny too. I laughed out loud over the stor­ies of Maximchuk dangling Proctor over­board in or­der to cap­ture an es­pe­cially large Japanese float, the kinks in her wed­ding day that failed to dis­pel the joy and one of her best Christmas gifts ever – an or­ange sur­viv­al suit.

Maximchuk writes with a painter’s eye and a poet’s voice cre­at­ing a richly re­ward­ing sense of place, time and emo­tion. Drawn to Sea is a BC coastal clas­sic that de­serves a place on the shelf next to M. Wylie Blanchet’s A Curve of Time. 

For more in­form­a­tion vis­it www​.yvon​nemax​imchuk​.com.

Paula and Yvonne at a Drawn to Sea book signing. Photo by Theda Phoenix.
Paula and Yvonne at a Drawn to Sea book sign­ing. Photo by Theda Phoenix.

 

Focus like a Cougar to Finish Your Book

Writing a book is an in­tense, chal­len­ging and re­ward­ing pro­cess. But if you’re work­ing on a big pro­ject and the dead­line is loom­ing, the in­tense and chal­len­ging as­pect can be overwhelming.

That’s how I felt last fall as I struggled to fin­ish The Cougar: Beautiful, Wild and Dangerous. I had so much fas­cin­at­ing in­form­a­tion! How could I pos­sibly con­dense it into suit­able ma­nu­script length by March 31?

Then I read an art­icle about ac­com­plish­ing goals in the Mayo Clinic news­let­ter. The three main points were:

1. Clarity of fo­cus. The best nev­er lose sight of the goal. The event is circled on the cal­en­dar. As the count­down be­gins, all activ­it­ies are dir­ec­ted to­ward that date.

2. Tunnel vis­ion. This means hav­ing the cour­age not to ac­cept an en­gage­ment or even re­spond to an email that doesn’t ad­vance the goal.

3. Intense com­mit­ment. Distractions must be elim­in­ated. That in­cludes cut­ting back on non­es­sen­tial ob­lig­a­tions. It also means hav­ing the dis­cip­line to walk away from people who are neg­at­ive and un­sup­port­ive.

I prin­ted those guidelines out and put them on my desk where I would see them every day. In or­der to ac­com­plish what I needed to do with­in the time avail­able, I cre­ated monthly, weekly and daily goals. It might sound scary, but it kept me on track!

Taking my com­mit­ment one step fur­ther, I set up my laptop in an up­stairs bed­room. That way I wasn’t dis­trac­ted by Rick, the dog or the ringing of the phone. And I didn’t have ac­cess to the in­ter­net and email un­less I used my PC down­stairs. It’s amaz­ing how much time that saved!

Some de­cisions were dif­fi­cult. I lim­ited get to­geth­ers with friends and, even though Bailey got a walk every day, there weren’t as many of the long, off leash romps on the beach that we both en­joy. Of course, none of this would have been pos­sible without an un­der­stand­ing and sup­port­ive partner.

A cougar focuses on its prey with intense concentration, never shifting its gaze even when circling around or changing position.
A cou­gar fo­cuses on its prey with in­tense con­cen­tra­tion, nev­er shift­ing its gaze even when circ­ling around or chan­ging position.

Cougars are known for their in­tense fo­cus so every day I told my­self to “fo­cus like a cou­gar.” I of­ten asked my­self, “Does this have any­thing to do with cou­gars?” If the an­swer was no, I made a note to deal with it after I sent the ma­nu­script in.

And yes! I made my dead­line, right on March 31. The Cougar will be in stores near the end of Sept.

Will I use the Mayo Clinic guidelines again? You bet! They’re ex­cel­lent strategies for fin­ish­ing a book, art­icle or thes­is. Or whatever else your goal is, be it train­ing for a mara­thon, los­ing ten pounds in two months or be­com­ing a millionaire.