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Vic’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Vic’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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Vic Cavalli
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in Canada
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The Road to Vermilion Lake
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The Binnacle: Thirteenth Annual Ultra-Short Edition (Ultra-Short Competition Book 13)
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Stanley the Whale: Issue Two
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Three Published Reviews of The Road to Vermilion Lake
Review of The Road to Vermilion Lake in Edinburgh Book Review
The Road to Vermillion Lake
Author: Vic Cavalli Publisher: Harvard Square Editions
I’ve always considered myself a post-modern guy – well, ever since I knew what it meant, anyway. And to its credit, this novel has forced me to reconsider my philosophical affiliation, and giving some serious thought to dropping the label altogether. Maybe Read more of this blog post »
The Road to Vermillion Lake
Author: Vic Cavalli Publisher: Harvard Square Editions
I’ve always considered myself a post-modern guy – well, ever since I knew what it meant, anyway. And to its credit, this novel has forced me to reconsider my philosophical affiliation, and giving some serious thought to dropping the label altogether. Maybe Read more of this blog post »
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“After shaving and showering and throwing on fresh jeans and a white T-shirt, I left my trailer around 8:30 p.m. and headed towards the lake trail. The setting sun was a soft fiery red and the sky was streaked with purple gashes. The surface of the lake was perfect, pinkish-silver calm glass, and as I walked down to the edge of the lake I thought of Johnny’s comment about “our bench.” With the street lights sparkling uphill to my right, and the smooth lake surface on my left, and the brushed concrete trail under me, I felt like I was approaching an intersection point in the setting Johnny had created for Vermilion Lake. It took about ten minutes to see the bench in the distance and a person sitting there.
As I got closer, I saw Johnny, but she looked different. She had come to the bench straight from a late meeting with Will New, and she was dressed in a formal dark-blue business suit with jacket and knee-length skirt. She was wearing a stark-white buttoned blouse and her bare legs were slipped into black high heels. Her red hair was up in an extremely formal looking bun without a strand free. I’d not seen her with glasses the night before and she looked very scholarly. She stood up as I approached, and said, “Hi Tom,” and gave me a gentle hug. As I held her for a second against my chest I could feel her soft breasts through the layers of her suit, and the scent of her hair was beautiful, and then she stepped back and said, “Please sit down. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
The whole scene felt very different from the previous night. And from this meeting onwards I wouldn’t quite know what to make of Johnny. She was about to become a character composed of incongruous pieces, sometimes strong, sometimes fragile—almost patient-like. It was as if she had fallen apart and some force was in the process of reassembling her as a beautiful mess.”
― The Road to Vermilion Lake
As I got closer, I saw Johnny, but she looked different. She had come to the bench straight from a late meeting with Will New, and she was dressed in a formal dark-blue business suit with jacket and knee-length skirt. She was wearing a stark-white buttoned blouse and her bare legs were slipped into black high heels. Her red hair was up in an extremely formal looking bun without a strand free. I’d not seen her with glasses the night before and she looked very scholarly. She stood up as I approached, and said, “Hi Tom,” and gave me a gentle hug. As I held her for a second against my chest I could feel her soft breasts through the layers of her suit, and the scent of her hair was beautiful, and then she stepped back and said, “Please sit down. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
The whole scene felt very different from the previous night. And from this meeting onwards I wouldn’t quite know what to make of Johnny. She was about to become a character composed of incongruous pieces, sometimes strong, sometimes fragile—almost patient-like. It was as if she had fallen apart and some force was in the process of reassembling her as a beautiful mess.”
― The Road to Vermilion Lake
“Rosalind Porter: As a writer, how important do you feel it is to engage with the digital revolution?
Margaret Atwood: I don’t think it’s important. If I do it, it’s because of my insatiable curiosity. But people are trying to pile stuff onto authors, like you have to have a blog, you have to have this, you have to have that. Various party tricks. You actually don’t. I would say that having done it, the blogging and Tweeting and so forth reaches possibly a different kind of reader than the kind you may have been used to hearing from. But an author’s job is to concentrate on the writing, and once the writing is finished what you essentially do is throw it into a bottle and heave it into the sea, and that’s the same for any method of dissemination. There’s still a voyage between the text and the unknown reader; the book will still arrive at the door of some readers who don’t understand it – who don’t like it. It will still find some readers who hopefully do, and the process is still a scattergun approach.”
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Margaret Atwood: I don’t think it’s important. If I do it, it’s because of my insatiable curiosity. But people are trying to pile stuff onto authors, like you have to have a blog, you have to have this, you have to have that. Various party tricks. You actually don’t. I would say that having done it, the blogging and Tweeting and so forth reaches possibly a different kind of reader than the kind you may have been used to hearing from. But an author’s job is to concentrate on the writing, and once the writing is finished what you essentially do is throw it into a bottle and heave it into the sea, and that’s the same for any method of dissemination. There’s still a voyage between the text and the unknown reader; the book will still arrive at the door of some readers who don’t understand it – who don’t like it. It will still find some readers who hopefully do, and the process is still a scattergun approach.”
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“Virginia Woolf said, speaking from the perspective of the writer, that there’s no such thing, objectively, as a good or a bad novel, there’s just the novel you wanted to write. From the perspective of the reader, equally, there’s no such thing (objectively again) as a good or a bad novel – just the novel that moves you, that seems really felt and imagined by the author, lively and alive. This probably means that the more idiosyncratic the novel the better, because any writer straining to conform to the precepts of a genre, or the fashions of an age, may well end up suppressing his or her real self, deferring to other people’s maxims and theories and generally becoming a terrible phoney.
--an excerpt from Literary Review (March 2012)”
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--an excerpt from Literary Review (March 2012)”
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“Believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is a strength and a blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it.”
― Letters to a Young Poet
― Letters to a Young Poet
21st Century Literature
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For people interested in keeping up with the modern literary classics. We will be reading fiction and fine literature from 2000 to present, with the i ...more
