Michael Boyce's Blog - Posts Tagged "pedlar-press"

I'm reading Anderson in Montreal at Drawn & Quarterly Bookstore on Friday April 15th at 7 PM.

Also reading is fellow Pedlar Press author, Jacob Wren.

Drawn & Quarterly is at 211, rue Bernard O.

I'm going on a little book tour to read from my new novel, Anderson.

Actually, "tour" is a bit of an exaggeration. I'm reading in three cities: Montreal, Kingston and Toronto. They're all along the same route. Once I've flown to Montreal, I'll take the train to Kingston and from there also the train to Toronto. I quite like the train and miss travelling that way, which isn't so much a thing out in the West.

So, it's kind of a long weekend tour. The first stop, Montreal —April 17th at 7PM— I'll be reading at Drawn & Quarterly bookstore. This is quite exciting, and possibly dangerous for my wallet, given my love of their comics/graphic novels. They have some of my favourite authors in that medium: Linda Barry, Chester Brown, Charles Burns, Daniel Clowes, Julie Ducet, Joe Matt, Julie Morstad, Joe Sacco, Yoshihiro Tatsumi, Adrian Tomine and Chris Ware. That's a pretty amazing list, and there are plenty others I've still to explore.

I'm reading at Drawn & Quarterly with Jacob Wren, who is another Pedlar Press author. I read with Jacob and 4 other "Pedlar Men" in Vancouver for the launch of Anderson. I bought everybody's book that night, and have read and been impressed by all of them, their unique voices. Pedlar Press is a publisher I'm very proud to be with. Jacob is based in Montreal, and I like to think of Montreal as home, even though I don't live there any more, and my immediate family is all in Toronto. But Montreal has a special place in all our hearts, wherever we live. I still have a lot of friends there that I stay in touch with, and I'm looking forward to seeing them. Hopefully, spring will be at least somewhat in effect -- I can hardly think of any where else I'd rather be when the warm weather finally returns to Montreal. Everyone is soooo happy for those first few weeks.

I thought I would have a look to see if anybody was saying anything about my book Anderson. Turns out someone nominated it for a Giller (!!).

http://www.cbc.ca/books/scotiabankgil...

A few people on this site have read it and a couple have reviewed it as well, for which I am grateful. One fellow member, Melwyk, posted a review on her blog: The Indextrious Reader -
http://indextrious.blogspot.com/2011/...

I've also discovered that Anderson was nominated for a relit award, along with 5 other pedlar press authors - 3 of whom I read with when Anderson launched in Vancouver last Nov. I'm very pleased to share the nomination with fellow Pedlar authors - it is such a great press - and in particular with Ken Sparling, whose book BOOK is amazing.

Book

Intention Implication Wind by Ken Sparling

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


I read it very slowly. Because every time I read it, it was startling. And I wanted it to continue to be startling. I didn't want to ever take it for granted. I had to read it like it was - as it was written. So it could keep on being startling. It was always being startling to me. That was quite important. It was beautiful and startling. And startlingly beautiful.

Things would just come out of it. Poetry. Very meaningful. Nested there. Growing out of it like flowers break through concrete. Which defined and superseded it. Like fish jumping out of rivers. The sun glinting briefly off their skin. Eyes flashing. Mouths trying to breathe air. Incongruous and perfect. Reminding us. And making evident the space around us, between us, and within. A brilliance that shimmers briefly in banality, but registers most deeply thereby. Like something unexpectedly you see caught up in the wind. It blows away before you can get ahold of it. You’re left grasping for it, only catching hold of empty traces of it, which remain full of imminent meaning. Until it turns into something else.

There is a story there. I would be inclined in one way to say that it is told impressionistically. I would be inclined in another way to say that it is told like cubism does portraits. I would be inclined in another way to say that it's just like any story told: the sense of it is aggregate. The characters and things that happen and the feelings everybody has, and the perceptions, all become evident in complex contradictory ways over time. Repetition. Like relationships. Thinking, or knowing, that it is something whole, even though each part rests easy on its own.

There is a story there. But more than a story, there is writing there. There are sentences and paragraphs the like of which i've only read in few, very few, writers. It does stand out. This is literature as an art form.

One of the very few books I will return to, to continue to read and be inspired by.



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