Making Space for Accessible Poetry

February 15, 2013

Canadian Poet Heather Grace Stewart launches her fourth poetry collection, Three Spaces

Three Spaces is a ‘brave new collection’ of poetry, prose and photography from Amazon and iBooks Canada bestselling-poet and journalist Heather Grace Stewart.  It examines themes within three spaces of our society: public space, personal space, and cyberspace.
“I wanted to put out a collection that was a reflection of our society today, of how we’re trying to balance our  public lives with our lives in cyberspace, all while trying to maintain some privacy in our personal lives,’ Heather explains.

“There are dark and intense poems that start this collection, but then I move into tender, humorous poetry and prose to lighten the mood, and colourful images that can provide space for introspection,” Heather explains. “As always, I try to give my poetry substance, but make it accessible. I don’t want my readers scratching their heads or pulling their hair out after reading one of my poems! I want them to relate in some way. I’d like for them to walk away from the experience of reading this book feeling moved, energized and entertained.”

Early reviewers describe Three Spaces as ‘inspiring’ ‘heartfelt,’ ‘professional’ and ‘modern.’ Best-selling Author Elisa Lorello (Faking It, Adulation) writes,

“Buy this book. Get hooked. Add it to your space. You won’t be disappointed.”

Three Spaces is available now in Kindle Stores Worldwide, including Canada, USA & India, the UK, Germany, and many other countries, as well as on Kobo, iBooks, Nook, Sony Reader, and many other epub readers.

It will be available in print on Amazon and in bookstores in April, IF there is enough initial interest (at least 100 requests ) to warrant the production costs.

Heather will appear at Chapters Pointe Claire, Quebec on April 14th to celebrate National Poetry Month and to read from Carry On Dancing and a Kobo version of Three Spaces on her Kobo for IPad app.

Heather’s poems have been published in Canadian literary journals, newspapers and magazines, nation-wide school textbooks, international print anthologies, online journals, and in the British small presses. She was awarded Queen’s University’s McIlquham Foundation Prize in English Poetry (1995) and the UK journal Various Artists’ Poet’s Poet Award in 2008 and 2012.

Her third collection of poetry and photos, Carry On Dancing (Winter Goose Publishing, 2012)  hit #1 on Amazon Canada’s Bestselling Poetry list in April 2012, and stayed there for several weeks. It’s now topping the Canadian Kindle Bestselling Poetry charts along with Where the Butterflies Go.

Her second collection of poetry and photos, Leap (Graceful Publications, 2010), has been described as a “lovely lilt of language,” and, “a must for new and already hooked fans,” by reviewers. Where the Butterflies Go (Graceful Publications, 2008), was reviewed as “whirlwind poetry that never hesitates…always delightful and rarely what you expect. We need poetry like this.”

Heather is also a children’s poet, and enjoys screenwriting. The Groovy Granny (2012 Kindle version; Special Audio Version on iBooks) and The Friends I’ve Never Met (Romantic Comedy screenplay, 2012) are her best-selling Kindle books.

Her photographs have appeared in Equinox and National Geographic Traveler among others, and on the cover of over a dozen poetry books.

Born in Ottawa, Canada, she lives with her husband and daughter near Montreal. In her free time, she loves to take photos, scrapbook, cartoon, inline skate, dance like nobody’s watching, and eat Swedish Berries — usually not all at the same time.

Three Spaces

Meet Four Writers On A Blog Hop!

Welcome to my blog hop, where you will learn a little more about me and three other authors:

Tracey Allen (Sustainable/Gluten-free/Passive Solar) http://simplifyandsave.weebly.com/blog-save–simplify.html
Luigi Benetton (Technology/Business) http://luigibenetton.com/category/technozen/
Paul Lima (Business of Writing) http://paullima.com/blog/

and her
e’s my official website:

Heather Grace Stewart (Author/Poet/Speaker) http://heathergracestewart.me

If you’ve never visited my blog before, thanks for dropping by! Hope you’ll stay a while, and please be sure to visit my writer friends’ blogs. Thanks!

I’ve been writing creatively since I was five years old, and my first poem was even published (in the school newsletter!) From that moment on, I was hooked on writing. I went to Queen’s University in Kingston, Ontario, and wrote for the Queen’s Journal and Tricolour Yearbook. Then I attended Concordia and completed a graduate diploma in Journalism. After a few years working for a newspaper and several magazines as their associate editor, I decided to become a freelance writer, and in 1999, I founded Graceful Publications, my freelance writing and editing business.

Little did I know that one day I’d expand that business to become a book publisher!  I’ve been traditionally published a few times (Jackfruit Press, Bewrite Books and Winter Goose Publishing) and recently, through Graceful Publications, I published a book of children’s poems, The Groovy Granny, my screenplay The Friends I’ve Never Met, and I’m so excited to announce that my 4th collection of poetry, prose & photography, Three Spaces, will be released in ebook format mid-February 2013 (print will come a month later). I really enjoy doing readings and speaking engagements, and am looking forward to doing a workshop on epublishing at the Queen’s Conference on Journalism and Media next month.

I think the best advice I can give to aspiring authors is to follow your passion. You may have to keep a job you don’t like much to pay the bills, but if writing about fly fishing or vampires or poetry is your passion, then find the time to do that, because that’s probably where you’ll do your best work and find your greatest joy. Don’t give up, either. There are so many different ways to get your work out there now – you can make your own ebook for free, or post samples of your writing on a blog, record them in pod casts, or even Tweet them!

So, don’t give up! Write every day, even if it’s a few words on a little sticky note. Those few words could spark a great novel some day.

Network of Two

We’re running in circles on Google Plus,
We’re passing like ships, and what’s the fuss?
I miss conversations that lasted all day,
And privacy, and building on trust.

We share this home, these kids, the WiFi,
At the end of the day we have to try;

To pour some wine, not check our Klout;
To share our stories, not tweet them out.

The connections can thrill;
The Plus 1’s gratify;
But nothing compares
To you and I.

How you read my mind;
How I know what to do—
You and I,
In our network of two.

'Network for Two' copyright 2011 by Heather Grace Stewart


I’m posting this for the fantastic dVerse Poets Tuesday Open Link Night http://dversepoets.com
Please join us!

Hey, Cyberpals

I’ve just discovered Flag Counter, a widget that allows me to find out more about who’s visiting my site, and I have to say, I’m a little obsessed. In the last two days since I installed it, people from 29 different countries have visited Where the Butterflies Go.

Imagine if I could host that party in person! I’d have to serve cake. Coffee cake, crepes flambé, and ice cream. Flowers, lovely amber-coloured dishes and glasses; candles everywhere. A punch with the good stuff in it, a virgin one, and some coffee. And of course, a great mix of music in an attempt to suit all your tastes. I’d read my poetry, and you’d read yours. Then I’d make you strap on a nunchuck controller and play The West Wing for Wii (just wanted to see who’s actually reading this).

I’m learning a little about each of your countries every time you visit. Flag Counter has an option to click on the country name and learn about its history. Every time someone from a new area visits, I’m reading about your country. For instance, I knew very little about Lithuania, until I read this here:

http://s03.flagcounter.com/factbook/lt/1y

It prompted me to scan the Net for some more information on the countries I haven’t visited and know little about. I’m not getting much writing work done today.

I love history and social studies–mix that with a variety of people from around the world who enjoy poetry and photography, and I’m in heaven.

These days, our attention spans are limited, and it seems there aren’t enough hours in the day. Thanks for spending some of your precious time with me here at Where the Butterflies Go. I may just have to host a blog party soon.

Best Wishes,

Heather

“You Should Write A Movie.”

“It’s him. Why wouldn’t it be him?” my friend Artsy Mommy asked me the day after Mr. Screenwriter signed my blog.

“What’s the big deal?” she wanted to know. “He’s just a writer.”

Just a writer. I laughed out loud. She had clearly expressed what most of the world thinks of my chosen profession. This is one of many reasons why I love Artsy Mommy—for her honesty—and for what came next.

“You should write a movie about this,” she smiled as she helped me toss another load of muddy clothes into my washer.

“About this?”

“Inspired by this. By the people you’ve met on the discussion board, by meeting someone famous online—by you freaking out pretty much all the time about it.”

“It would be pretty funny. A stay-at-home-mom and writer meets someone famous on the Internet. I like it. I could fictionalize it—but people who meet on the Internet—that’s a good starting off point. Something we can all relate to.”

“So get to it.”

“Yeah, right. With what free time? At four in the morning? ” I laughed.

Six months later, I was sitting in front of my computer screen, rereading the first draft of my script, “The Friends I’ve Never Met.”

I glanced at the clock. 4:44 a.m.

I hardly remembered any of the writing process these past few months. I’d been waking up at 4 a.m. instinctively—on the nose, without an alarm clock—and writing in a trance-like-state until my daughter woke up at 8 a.m. every morning.

I’d read a couple screenwriting books, visit Mr. Screenwriter & The Facebook Movie’s discussion board for advice and inspiration, and rework that morning’s write using my cue card system during the three hours she was in preschool. I knew the first draft was done when I woke up at 7 a.m. one morning instead of at 4 am. I’d hit 120 pages.

It was one of those pieces that insisted on being written. And then—like no piece I’ve ever written before— it insisted on me telling the world about it. It’s a very stubborn, persistent child. It won’t give up.

But then, neither do I.

***

Update: I wrote that movie. I shopped the screenplay around for two years, and when I ran out of money doing that, I published it to Kindle, Kobo Nook and iBooks! It has been my best-selling ebook to date!  Thanks so much to everyone who believed in me along the way! :)

The Friends I’ve Never Met  - find it on Kindle, Kobo, Nook, Sony, iBooks, Copia, Smashwords and more!

Read the background to how I came to write the screenplay and the many adventures I had around it:

starting here:

I’m Afraid to Ask, But What Is Poking?

“You’re Not Being Punked.”

When I write, “until the day I found a way to speak with Mr. Screenwriter on the phone,” you must remember that I worked from home with a four-year-old tugging at my pant leg every ten minutes.

Therefore, if I wanted my impulsive plan to work (and by impulsive, I mean impulsive—I’d only come up with the idea a half hour before, when my clever four-year-old suggested in a matter-of-fact-tone, “If you want to speak to him, you should call him.”), it was imperative for the Flickering Babysitter to hold her clever attention for at least 10 minutes.

The fact that I also absent-mindedly poured her a bowl of Cheetos bigger than her little blond head while he and I were conversing is not one of my proudest parenting moments. But it did give Mr. Screenwriter and I something else to talk about.

“I just put on Rocky and Bullwinkle for my daughter, so I can get a quiet moment to speak with you. I don’t even know what Rocky and Bullwinkle’s about. Working from home doesn’t always work out for me,” I laughed.

“How old is she again?” he asked.

“Four.”

“She might be a little young, but try Pinky and the Brain,” he said, and he went on to explain why he and his daughter liked the show. We were having a regular conversation. I didn’t think I sounded like a stalker or a bimbo, but apparently I did sound Canadian, because he made a joke about my o’s. I laughed and relaxed a little, catching my breath so I could ask him my next question.

“So, I guess you’re really answering my emails?”

“Yes, Heather, you’re not being punked.”

That’s what it took for me to finally believe. Yes, Virgina, he really was Mr. Screenwriter! I could finally let go and start enjoying my time on his Mr. Screenwriter & The Facebook Movie discussion board. Maybe I’d even stretch my legs a little. Or a lot.  It was the best thing that could have happened.

Posting on a public discussion board for the first time helped me find my funny, and reading about his work (and how  much he seemed to love doing what he did) inspired me to try to write a screenplay of my own—something I’d never dreamed of trying until I happened upon that discussion board in December 2008.

I suppose my journalism training has made me overly suspicious of everything I read—especially items I read on the Internet—plus, I’ve probably watched Conspiracy Theory a few too many times. But if I weren’t an over-thinking-paranoid-yet-impulsive frosted flake, I wouldn’t have these great stories to share. There is a method to my madness.

I don’t regret much in my life, but I do regret deleting Mr. Screenwriter’s blog comment because, well, it was damn funny. And who doesn’t want to drive traffic to their blog? Who cares how it happens, as long as the readers get there?

Apparently, me. Apparently, I am the freak of nature who cares a little too much about pretty much everything. I wish I’d had Cher near my computer that day, smacking me silly, “Snap out of it, Blondie!” Why did I have to be so perfectly principled? It’s not like I’d posted photos of me pole dancing— “More of this at heathergracestewart.com!” (Besides, I couldn’t possibly have any photos like that, in case you’re wondering).

Luckily, my fits of over-thinking and panic have miraculously failed to scare Mr. Screenwriter out of my life, so I am still treated to his brand of funny from time to time.


Read how this story started:

Prologue: The Fine Line (between persistence and stalking)

1) a-The Fine Line: “Do What You Want”

b-Emails from L.A.

c-“I”m Afraid To Ask, But What Is Poking?”

Read the NEXT chapter: “You Should Write A Movie”

“I’m Afraid To Ask, But What Is Poking?”

“A new comment on the post #179 “Will Mr. Screenwriter Add Me As A Facebook Friend?” is waiting for your approval.

I stared at my inbox in disbelief, then looked around for a brown bag to breathe into.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in.  Breathe out. Mr. Screenwriter—the guy who wrote my favourite movie and some of the best television ever written—just signed my blog? Mr. Screenwriter just signed my blog!

Okay. It’s easy to figure out who everyone in my story is—it’s not like I’m making it hard for you—and everyone in my story is just fine with that, but I’m sticking with the Mr. and Mrs. Names. They’re funny, and they have a nice ring to them.

“I’m afraid to ask, but what is poking?” Mr. Screenwriter wrote me. He was referring to the title of a second post he’d read on my blog about Facebook, “You’ve Been Poked.” He was in the process of writing a movie about Facebook, and wanted to understand how it worked.

The whole thing was very funny—but hard for me to believe. I’m from Ottawa. I’ve only traveled to the States a couple times. I’ve never been to Hollywood. The only famous person I’d met was Gary Sandy, WKRP’s Andy, in the elevator of an Edmonton hotel. I was about twelve years old, and recognized him right away. “Hey, I know you!” I grinned, and gave him a hug (my personality hasn’t changed much since twelve). I think my parents turned red, but chuckled. I then went on to tell Mr. Sandy how I was taking drama classes and was going to be famous some day. My parents tell me he got a kick out of me that night.

As for the blog post Mr. Screenwriter signed, you won’t be able to find it. One day, in one of my fits of panic and over-thinking which my dear family members and friends have come to refer to as—actually, they can’t quite find the term for me yet—I decided to delete the posts. They were getting a lot of traffic, and it bothered me.

Yeah. I know. Trust me to find a reason to panic about a blog post getting a lot of traffic. This won’t surprise any of my good friends or family members. As my dear friend Lucky Man Larry puts it, “It’s okay. I’ve become immune to your panicking.”

At the time, I didn’t like all the questions I was getting about it in my inbox. I just wanted people to read my blog for the poems and stories–not because some famous person had signed one of the entries.

There was also the not-so-minor fact that for about six months, I thought I was corresponding with Mr. Fake Screenwriter—that me and the more than 10,000 readers of his Facebook discussion board were being bamboozled, conned, fooled, punked, getting the wool pulled over our eyes.

I thought this despite that I’d called his studio to confirm with his assistant that this was the real deal.  I would think this until the day I found a way to speak with Mr. Screenwriter on the phone.

Read how this story started:

Prologue: The Fine Line (between persistence and stalking)

1) a-The Fine Line: “Do What You Want”

b-Emails from L.A.

Read the NEXT Chapter: “You’re Not Being Punked”

The Fine Line: Emails from L.A.

“Your friend’s on T.V.”

“My friend?”

“Your friend whose name I can’t pronounce.”

“Ohhh! My FRIEND! Mr. Sitcom Actor!” I squealed, and ran from the kitchen, where hubby and I had been making dinner together, to the living room. It was three years after the Crazy Phone Call, and since that time, not one restraining order had been placed against me. Wait, that didn’t come out right. I have never had a restraining order placed against me. Seriously. Please, keep reading.

Mr. Sitcom Actor had, in fact, recently told me I should refer to him as my friend, “even though you’re in Montreal and I’m way over here in L.A.” It never surprised me when he responded to my emails—he’s a dear-heart like that—but I knew it was a rarity for a famous person in Hollywood to give a rat’s ass about someone who could do nothing for them. I enjoyed our rare yet lively e-conversations.

I caught the tail end of the ad that was on for his series, but it was enough to get me jumping up and down, clapping, as I always did when hubby told me my friend was on our TV screen. Our one-year-old was sitting in her high chair, and started clapping along with me.

“Dat? Dat dere?” she asked, big eyes blue and wondering.

“That’s my friend. Mr. Sitcom Actor. He sends me emails from L.A. Well, not really.
I email him, and he’s sweet enough to email back.”

“Nice haih, dat,” Monkeydoodle mumbled through her peas.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. He really does have great hair.”

I’m going to stop typing immediately and clarify something before I get deluged with excited emails from you, dear readers. This is a fun game to play, keeping you guessing about all the parties in my story, but no, I didn’t get emails from McDreamy in my in-box. Patrick Dempsey wouldn’t return to our TV screens, set my heart racing, and make me put extra mousse in my husband’s hair until a whole year later.

As I finally sat down on the sofa, dinner plate on lap–this has got to be one of Murphy’s Laws–our daughter’s face turned beet red, and she announced an event to us for which anyone with an operating olfactory nerve required no announcement:

“Poop!”

I laughed, and was reminded of an email Mr. Sitcom Actor had sent me a few weeks back. We’d been comparing diaper duty–he’s quite the hands-on Dad and had admitted he and his wife were “knee-deep-in-it” –and, having read some of my poems, he’d told me I should write a Mommy Rap about changing diapers. “That would be hilarious!”

I never did write that rap. Life gets in the way; or perhaps that’s just not how it was supposed to happen. If I’d started practicing my rapping when Mr. Sitcom Actor suggested it, maybe I’d have learned to sing on key and sound bad-ass enough. But then I wouldn’t have earned my “The girl can’t rap, but she sure can write” t-shirt sent to me by The Sex People, along with a delicious strawberry cheesecake, delivered to my door.

Who the hell are The Sex People? I’m sure that’s what the cheesecake delivery guy wanted to know, with every inch of his being, since I wasn’t expecting him, and had answered the door in leggings and the new black stilettos I’d been modeling for my girlfriend Artsy Mommy. He must have thought I was running a very different kind of home business.

Back to The Sex People. The simple answer is I met them online when Mr. Sitcom Actor joked with me tongue-in-cheek, “Yes, Heather, let’s be friends, officially,” when I’d asked him if that was really him on Facebook—as if you have to be on Facebook to make your friendship official. He soon posted a link to a discussion board led by Mr. Screenwriter, which I thought looked quite interesting, so I joined.

Before I knew it I was online every day with a bunch of friends I’d never met, chatting about the in’s and out’s of screenwriting, sex in the movies, baseball, and our messy, beautiful lives.

It was the stuff movies are made of.

Read how this story started:

Prologue: The Fine Line (between persistence and stalking)

1) a-The Fine Line: “Do What You Want”

Read the NEXT CHAPTER: The Fine Line: I’m Afraid to Ask, but What Is Poking?

The Fine Line (between persistence and stalking)

Those of you who’ve been following this blog for a while now know that I write in a few different genres. I’ve written non-fiction books for youth on Canada’s Prime Ministers; I’m a published poet, and I’m a magazine features writer.

A little over a year ago, I started on the roller-coaster ride of my life: my journey into the world of screenwriting. I’d soon discover that writing the script wasn’t the hard part. Sure, I’ll tell you a bit about that process–but that’s not the story here. The true blood, sweat, and tears this past year have come from trying to get someone–anyone in the industry–to read it, comment on it, and give me a hand perfecting it and selling it. I’ve also been searching for an agent and working on another script so that I have a body of work to show someone when they finally agree to read my first script.

About six months into my efforts, I managed to get in touch with an agent who booked talent–mainly writers and actors–for Broadway productions. He told me that, while he had enjoyed reading my script and was very much willing to help me as best he could by offering advice, he didn’t really have any ‘in’s” in the Hollywood film industry. He was, however, one of the first people to engage in a dialogue with me about the industry and about what I was up against, and he was also incredibly helpful in getting my script into the hands of a well-known Canadian actor-director. This actor had his own American TV series some years ago and is now directing films–we’ll call him Mr. Canadian Actor. Mr. Canadian Actor scribbled some great input into the margins of my script–really incredible stuff including critique, questions, and suggestions for scene direction, which I incorporated into a new draft. He then accidentally left my script on a seat in Arrivals at the Vancouver airport. But that’s another tale, to be told at another time.

After a few friendly emails from–let’s call him Mr. Broadway–I had the instinct that he could probably give me some perspective on what should be my next move with a well-known screenwriter-producer I’d been interacting with online–we’ll call him Mr. Screenwriter. Mr. Screenwriter had offered to read my script and eventually sent my script to a big U.S. agency. Being the polite Canadian I am, I kept wondering if “thank you” was adequate. Some people had told me I should make some grand gesture. I’d already said thank-you enough times and in enough ways; I felt that I was starting to sound like a bit of an idiot. I didn’t feel doing any more would be appropriate–since when does thank-you not genuinely mean thank-you?

There are a few things I’m not willing to do in this journey, and one of them is ass-kiss, and the other is name-drop (hence the use of Mr. Names. I’d like to get to the Mrs. Names, but sadly, there are so very few Mrs. High-Up’s in the industry. That’s another whole chapter. I’ll get there). So I wrote Mr. Broadway and asked him if he thought sending a gift to Mr. Screenwriter was a good idea or very, very bad idea (my instinct).

He e-mailed back this note: “There’s a fine line between persistence and stalking.”

I burst out laughing. I was so loud, in fact, my five-year-old came running into my office, asking, “What, Mommy? What’s so funny?” It was then that I realized I had a story here. The story of little, 5’2″ me, just a girl from the Ottawa Valley, trying to break into Big Bad Hollywood as a writer.

This is that story. I’m not sure if it’s a book or a script or just a bunch of fun blog posts. Stay tuned to find out!

Chapter 1: The Fine Line: “Do What You Want”

**So far, there are SIX posts in this series. Read them all here–in order, from the post at the bottom to the post at the top:

The Fine Line series by Heather Grace Stewart

Don’t Leap!

This is about the only time I’d ever say that–as the author of a book titled, ‘Leap,’ I’d say I’m a pretty big fan of jumping in and going for it. But “Don’t Leap!” is definitely the appropriate title for the latest entry in my “By Leaps and Bounds” Photo Contest. This photo was taken by Tony Jurado on May 6, 2010, from the observation deck on the 86th floor of the Empire State Building in New York City, NY, USA. You can vote for this and other photos in the contest on my Facebook Author Page, and enter your own photo by following the rules in my previous blog post “By Leaps and Bounds Photo Contest”. Keep on leaping, everyone–I can’t wait to see what else you come up with for this contest!
Don't Leap!