Puzzles, Issue #21

volume 4 | issue 3 | FREE

northern canada collective society for writers

contents

president Dawn Booth

1

editorial

Dave Martin

2

community report

Kiran Malik-Khan

4

3 across

Veronica Wood

5

the highway

Timothy MacPherson

5

2:15 am monday morning

Veronica Wood

6

conversational silence...

Chris Bowers

7

puzzled

Owen Erskine

7

the planet

Victoria Wood

8

wind of your wings

Riley Woodford

9

poppa's pastime

Scott Meller

10

across

Desirée Samuelson

managing editor Jane Jacques

10

singing

Dorothy Bentley

president emerita Jennifer Hemstock

11

we used to go outside

Liana Wheeldon

12

daily dread

Travis Hoyles

13

stoic & unspoken

Terese Diprose

14

marginalia: a column

Douglas Abel

16

contributors

secretary Theresa Wells treasurer Jenny Berube public relations director Kiran Malik-Khan e-mail northwordmagazine@gmail.com web www.northwordmagazine.com

This Issue: Volume 4, Number 3 Fall 2019 ISSN 1920-6313 cover Carmen Wells design & layout Rachel White-Murray issue editor Dave Martin

Follow us on social media to stay in touch: twitter @NorthWordYMM facebook NorthWord

Proudly published in Fort McMurray, Alberta, Canada 56°44’N | 111°07’W

northern canada

call for submissions NorthWord Volume 4, Issue 4 deadline October 30, 2019 theme Anomaly guest editor Hanna Fridhed

writers statement

We’re always looking for prose (3000 words or fewer, fiction or nonfiction), poetry (50 lines maximum), excerpts from current projects, and visual art.

collective society for of purpose: To publish and support the work of writers in northern Canada.

please submit as a microsoft word or image attachment to: The Editors, northword@hushmail.com

for advertising and business inquiries: northwordmagazine@gmail.com

volume 4 | issue 23

editorial puzzles. discovering connections.

Young or old, we love puzzles. Sharing them, coming back to those unfinished puzzles and

finding new ways to stimulate our brains. In so doing, we reinforce our own connection to family, to heritage, and to community.

Wood Buffalo is like a puzzle. We are a tapestry of distinct pieces, discovering our

interconnection and our value to one another. Puzzles are one way we reaffirm our humanity, The pieces in this issue vary from the whimsical to the vulnerable, an array of philosophy,

observations, celebration and mourning. I am elated local writers and visual artists submitted to this issue and gave us insight into some of the people in our region.

I feel fortunate to be a part of Wood Buffalo, to have read these pieces, and to get to know my neighbours a little better through their written word and visual art. Thank you.

Health, hope and happiness,

Dave Martin guest editor , issue 21

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northword: A Literary Journal Of Canada’s North

community report happy 10th birthday to us We made it. What a milestone. Friends of NorthWord

gathered at the Event Station Centre on April 26, 2019 to celebrate our 10-Year Anniversary. We launched our 20th issue, which was aptly themed Celebration. Edited by

by kiran malik-khan Public Relations Director them with certificates of appreciation at the launch.

NorthWord has reached its ten-year milestone thanks

to friends who have given generously over the years. To everyone who has shared in NorthWord’s journey, thank you,” noted Jane Jacques, Managing Editor.

the Board: Dawn Booth, President, Kiran Malik-Khan, PR

“Writing poetry and stories allows us to individually

urer and overseen by Managing Editor, Jane Jacques,

universal language it connects us with others. To see

Director, Theresa Wells, Secretary, Jenny Berube, Treasthe issue featured an exclusive cover by artist Sarah

McKendry. Mayor Don Scott was our special guest, who brought greetings on behalf of Council.

“I am very proud of NorthWord magazine. This is a real

opportunity for local writers and artists, especially our

express our emotions and because literary arts has a NorthWord hit this incredible milestone tells us that

literary arts is not only alive in our community but it needs a platform. We truly appreciate everyone who

has submitted and supported this publication throughout the years,” said Dawn Booth, President, NorthWord.

youth, many of whom have been published here for

Our deepest gratitude indeed to everyone involved in

teers. Great efforts like this don’t happen without great

have done this without you. Here’s to the next 10 years.

the first time. I want to thank the Board and volunpeople. Congratulations,” Mayor Scott said.

Councillors Krista Balsom and Phil Meagher were also in attendance along with community leaders. The pro-

gram saw the magazine’s donors, sponsors, volunteers, and supporters from the last 10 years honoured. Poetry readings, and an open mic rounded out the festivities.

“We were delighted to celebrate the tenth anniversary of NorthWord with many of our long-time volunteers and supporters, and we expressed our gratitude to

making this beautiful magazine a reality. We couldn’t

NorthWord is available free of charge at MacDonald Island, Suncor Energy Centre for Performing Arts, Blue

Mountain Bistro, Keyano College, Points North Gallery, and the Thickwood YMCA.

For real time updates, like us on Facebook: www.

facebook.com/northword and follow us on Twitter: @NorthWordYMM. Visit our website: www.northwordmagazine.com.

L-R: Dawn Booth, President, Jane Jacques, Managing Editor, Kiran Malik-Khan, PR Director, Theresa Wells, Secretary and Jenny Berube, Treasurer enjoying the event.

2

The NorthWord covers from the last 10 years.

volume 4 | issue 3

Volunteers, sponsors and donors were honoured at the event.

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northword: A Literary Journal Of Canada’s North

3 across veronica wood

The clue was tricky, and my so far speedy process of filling the

crossword was halted. My wife Marge brought out the coffees

and sat beside me. They smelt of mornings, of days spent piecing together crosswords. Days spent with the woman next to me. I noticed she had the record player on.

“What’s playing honey?”

She looked surprised. “Derrick, you know this, it’s Todd Rundgren!”

I scratched my head. “Well, I think my memory is honestly start-

ing to go a bit.” She turned her head to look out the window, and I started to scratch my pencil into the paper.

“Fragments of pictures.” I murmured. “Photo album… nope.” Way too long. “Puzzle!” Six letters for 3 across. Perfect. The second last letter, the ‘z’ was the third letter of 13 down, a five letter word meaning “the town square.” I grumbled. It started with a ‘P,’ which could only mean ‘plaza.’ So close.

I was still stumped on 3 across when Marge stood to turn the record over. She looked over my shoulder before crossing into

the other room. She pulled her glasses out of her robe pocket and

stared for a moment. “3 across is giving you problems today?” She asked. “Yes. This letter here is an ‘a’... fragments of pictures…”

“Try ‘jigsaw’.”

I wrote it in.

Perfect fit.

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volume 4 | issue 3

the highway timothy macpherson

I’m driving down life’s winding highway Waving to the world as I pass it by

Veering ‘round pot holes and blown-out tires So many dreams stranded on the roadside Not really sure where I’m heading to

Perhaps I’ll just know when I get there

I’m going fast but not fast enough it seems

The guy behind keeps honking his horn at me One-way signs wherever I go

No turning back even if I wanted to I know I’ll get lost if I’m not already

But got to drive this highway to wherever it goes

2:15 am monday morning veronica wood This is really difficult.

I don’t want to do this, but something doesn’t fit.

I thought you would fill this hole in my heart, complete the puzzle that is my life, but you don’t connect with my other pieces. I can’t force a blue piece where an eye should be or a sandy beach…

Don’t be puzzled over why I didn’t do this in person, I couldn’t. Maybe we will talk later.

Goodbye.

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northword: A Literary Journal Of Canada’s North

conversational silence... chris bowers

To whom it may concern: One day, while I was attending a meeting at work, my

Armed with the knowledge that everybody thinks and

quiet about this. What do you think?”

absorbs information and tries to figure things out by

boss looked at me and said, “You’re staying incredibly This has often been a theme in my life; the perception that I am too quiet. This is also, perhaps, not necessarily

untrue. Often times, I will be involved in a conversation and spend most of the time observing and listening to the people around me while saying very little. Sometimes I won’t say anything at all. Unfortunately, this has led people to the conclusion that I am disengaged, not

interested, or bored. Sadly, there was a time I believed them.

I have long contemplated why I am the way I am. Is

there something wrong with me? Am I shy? I don’t understand. Everybody around me seems to have no problem speaking up and out. Why am I so different? My

own mind had become one giant puzzle for me to solve.

Is there anything more frustrating than a logic brain trying to figure itself out?

It had never really dawned on me that there is nothing wrong with me at all.

I have had a considerable amount of time to think about who I am and how I work. The world we exist in

is moving at a faster pace every day; social media and television, for example, have made it so that we get

information almost instantly. There is a danger there, however, that we choose to ignore. Many of us seem so

eager to be heard that we forget to take a moment to breathe.

6

works differently, I have come to realize that my brain piecing things together. Most importantly, it takes time

to process what it has heard, what it has learned and what it has experienced. And just so we’re clear, I’m not

arguing against impassioned speeches or intelligent debate and I understand that there are times where

snappy decisions are necessary. I’m just wondering if it

would really kill us to pause for a moment and consider what we are about to say before we say it? For the sake of my sanity, would it do us any harm to think an action

through before we commit to that course of action? If

what I’m saying is making sense to you as you read this, then maybe you are like me. Take comfort in knowing

that you are not alone and that you have an important role to play in this talkative world. I truly believe that the quiet ones change the world while the loud ones have a tendency to take the credit.

I maintain that I have nothing to add simply by talk-

ing and there are most likely enough voices around me that I don’t need to add to the noise. And let’s be honest

with each other, a good portion of the chatter is simply that—noise. To this day, if I don’t believe I have anything

important or intelligent to say, I may not say anything at all. The important part is that, now, I’m ok with that.

And so, to answer the original question asked by my boss, that is what I think.

Sincerely yours, A quiet person who has something to say

volume 4 | issue 3

puzzled owen erskine Starting Staring

Trying to piece it together Grooves with grooves Find the edges

DON'T SMASH IT

Breathe and try again

Put me back together again

Incomplete Forgotten Dusty

Memories

Rebuild, Remember

the planet veronica wood

This planet is a puzzling place, full of puzzling people.

Strange things

we puzzle over

perhaps strange things puzzle over us.

Presumably, the most puzzling puzzle the people puzzle over pertains to the puzzling puzzler who was puzzled enough to puzzle such a puzzling puzzle

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northword: A Literary Journal Of Canada’s North

wind of your wings riley woodford Oh, such a trying year

But quickly it’s quite different

Need some time to clear my mind

Just as soon as I tug the rod

Added ages to my soul

Head out to my fishing hole I seek the calm and quiet I know that water brings

To sit upon the rocks alone

Clear my mind of sorrow’s sting Cast the rod, hope for a bite Pull fish to the beach

But there’re no signs today Not so much as a breach Is it just this spot I’m in

Can they see me through the water?

Maybe I should move down stream Or should I even bother.

Feels like so much time has passed Still sitting empty handed

Are all the fish trapped somewhere?

Under rocks or stranded Might as well pack it in

No fish to be seen today Still nice to be out here

To help push my grief away Wait, what’s that I see?

From the corner of my eye

From the bush, growth, and trees A beautiful butterfly.

Now there comes a sense of calm Like something from above

Like someone has a hold of me A too- familiar hug I sit back down

And make ready my line With the company

I’ll cast out one more time 8

Like someone heard my wish I caught myself a fish

With this change of fortune

I’ve become a fishing master Just as fast I cast the line I pull them even faster

Big they are, what a size Some as big as my leg

I don’t even need the bait Just toss my hook and jig I nod to my company

As it flaps its beautiful wings

The wind starts to move the trees And I listen as the forest sings It lifts its self and off it goes

Back now, through the trees

I know somewhere inside myself She was here to talk to me As I look up

A nod to the sky

With a tear sneaking From my eye

Thank you for helping me In life and with the fish

I did everything I could for you Your pride, my only wish

We will meet again one day Until then I will be strong

Please drop by and visit again I miss and love you mom

volume 4 | issue 3

poppa’s pastime scott meller

In the corner of the living room sits an old card table.

Scattered on the surface (a piece of repurposed plywood from some backyard project) are the bits and pieces of a picture.

Perhaps they are the petals of a flower in a vase, perhaps a herd of horses running through the foothills against a mountain backdrop.

Perhaps they are the signs of a lifetime on the farm before television, before smartphones, before computers, and gaming consoles, and a million other distractions that take us out of our present moment and around the world.

Perhaps they are a glimpse of a faraway spring, or a place only read about

when the book mobile could brave the snow and traverse the snow drifted roads to your father’s homestead.

When the image is particularly difficult, or particularly beautiful, or (some-

times) when you just need a reminder that spring is eventually going to

come, the pieces get glued to the plywood and put into a makeshift frame of

leftover baseboards, or maybe even just some quarter round, so that you can hang it on the wall and look at it and see hope.

This is no mindless pastime or unsophisticated effort to embrace art. This is a Puzzle, and it is a portal to your Zen. It is your active meditation, your

prairie mandala, and it gives you something to look forward to when you’ve finished the list of tasks that make up your winter subsistence existence.

It is ever present still.

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northword: A Literary Journal Of Canada’s North

across

desirée samuelson

One across, a question in time.

Gives me three down, a four letter word for Love.

Choose the level, beginner or hard.

Stuck now, no words to spare.

Close the book, come back later...

Move onto another page.

Across the table I gaze upon you.

Six down—a four letter word for support; remain.

Stay.

singing

dorothy bentley She once sang all the songs,

Listen now, be still woman

and the wooden chopping

like a diviner’s prize from a

all day long, over dishes board, her mind freer than a gypsy bird

with no permanent address.

But she went to read the

evidence, the record of origins, saw the bones scattered

widely, gaping deficiencies of all the theories and theologies jumbled.

Now she sings the songs

tentatively, puzzling, wanting so hard, like a shovel on dry hard ground, to believe

like a child, but the ground won’t give up and let her

shovel in, won’t make way for her innocent inquiry into the

beguiling blueline narratives.

10

let the voices bubble up

branch probe; long forgotten stories by wisdom’s mother.

An illiterate she-dove, a she-witch,

a she-whore, they said because she didn’t believe their discordant discoloured discourse.

She sings now, not so tentatively not fully believing yet, but

she sings like a prayer, each word a seed, a nut, an incantation,

a siren call to the true story,

calling it to rise and give life.

She once sang over the dishes

and the wooden chopping board.

Now, they sing over her.

volume 4 | issue 3

we used to go outside by Liana Wheeldon

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northword: A Literary Journal Of Canada’s North

daily dread

travis hoyles

On Monday I was five: Toys parading around my feet, animated by imaginative innocence. Father was still alive then, handsome and strong. The only wrinkles upon me caused by too much laughter.

On Tuesday I was twenty: Feeling invincible, unflinching. Girls that are not quite women come and go, still searching for my wife. Ten more years to go. Getting off work and driving miles.

Unending hope. A flash of restlessness.

On Wednesday I was thirty: Crafting my daughter's crib novicely. Two hours each day to remove the splinters. A brief flicker. The crib is abandoned and broken. Hysteria as I fail to recognize simple tools. I return.

On Thursday I was fifty: In my truck, waiting for my daughter at college. Sometimes I look down and see

gnarled hands, tree roots. I stare at the wheel. What is a circle? I see my daughter,

only her face looks different. That isn't my daughter. She opens the door and a warm breeze dries my brow sweat. It is her after all.

On Friday I was seventy: In a suit, my wife's funeral. Oddly, no tears. I look around to see faceless men and

women. I walk towards the casket. My wife is faceless too. I close my eyes. One minute.

They open and I see my pale wife. Tears now. From one eye joy, the other, sorrow.

On Saturday I was eighty: A husk with legs. Wading out into the ocean, unassisted. A memory. Waves crash

against the rocks and the tide pulls the memory with it. A strong hand grasps me. I

sleep for two days and wake in a strange room. My mouth declines food. I am afraid.

On Sunday, I am gone Total darkness. My bones refuse to work. I have no knowledge. Only my ears receive: a young woman, crying. For who?

What am I? 12

volume 4 | issue 3

stoic & unspoken by Terese Diprose 13

northword: A Literary Journal Of Canada’s North

marginalia

The Puzzle of Puzzles

A column by douglas abel

Puzzles puzzle me. By that I don’t simply mean that I am frequently “stumped” by them—although I frequently am. Give me a challenging “standard” cross-

word puzzle, where the solutions are based on knowledge and vocabulary, with a bit of “interpretation” and a couple of bad puns thrown in, and I can usually breeze through it—or at least get through it. Nor do I feel any shame

in looking up (Googling) terms that are simply outside my knowledge—an exotic plant or animal, or the capital of some tiny South Pacific island coun-

try. But set even a moderate-level cryptic crossword in front of me, and I am grateful if, after an hour, I have managed to decipher two or three clues out of twenty or thirty.

No, it is not the fact that I am so often stumped by puzzles that puzzles me.

It is the fact that so many of us find puzzles so compelling, in some cases even addictive. What is it about a Times cryptic, a Sudoku, or a mathemati-

cal brain-teaser that makes us eager to crack the code? What need in us do puzzles feed?

A simple answer might be “brain stimulation.” A good puzzle can exercise the grey matter just like a good session at the gym can exercise the mus-

cles. Yet there are certainly more obviously “productive” or “useful” ways of giving the brain a workout. Learning a new language, or how to play a musi-

cal instrument, works the brain in similar ways to puzzles. But at the end of those stimulating activities there is also a “tangible” benefit: the opportunity to communicate and converse with new people in new ways; the ability to

make beautiful sounds, alone or with others. What is the “useful” satisfaction of being able to say, “Take that, Times Crossword Master, your additive anagram didn’t stump me!”?

I am especially intrigued by the fascination with puzzles because they so

often use language in ways that are counter-intuitive, even counter-produc-

tive, in terms of our everyday activities and desires. Usually we want words to have a meaning that we can figure out and act upon. We want communication to be relatively efficient, and generally effective. We want people to

use words to say what they mean, and mean what they say. Most human interaction depends on some kind of verbal clarity. Context and connotative

meaning, delivery and tone of voice can make matters complex, but we try to insist that denotative meanings, at least, be straightforward.

A couple of recent political controversies hinge, in part, on the need for “straightforward” language. A recent debate in the Senate over changes to

the “no-fly list” turned on the definition of the word “reasonable.” If a new

commissioner was mandated to make “reasonable decisions” as to who

should and should not be on the list, there was concern as to when and

how exactly a decision could be considered “reasonable.” (Globe and Mail, 14

volume 4 | issue 3

May 7, 2019, p. A4.) An opinion piece on the SNC-Lavalin

the “common sense” in which literal meanings are rooted

the Anti Bribery Convention of 1999 allows for reme-

are themselves limited. We can see colours that dogs

controversy addressed the question of when and how diation agreements. Michael Byers pointed out that, in international law, “a treaty’s terms are to be interpreted

in accordance with their ordinary meaning, in their

context, and in light of the treaty’s object and purpose.

(Globe and Mail, April 27, 2019, p. 04.) Over the last dec-

ades, there has been a strong push for “plain language” in law, for the elimination of arcane terms and elaborate

phrasings in favour of language that anyone subject to

the law can understand. We want clarity: life is simpler that way.

So why are we fascinated with puzzles, where ambi-

guity seems to be both the name and the point of the game?

Take the case of cryptic crosswords. Over the last year I

have taken two “courses” in solving them. There I learned

that there are ten different types of clues—not to mention combinations of them—each with codes indicating

what kind of clue it may be. So, before you can figure out

what a clue “means,” you have to identify what kind of clue it is, and how it works specifically. And there is a

is a limited sense, because it is tied to our senses, which cannot, but we cannot hear sounds that bats or whales

pick up with ease. Birds have built-in GPS systems that we cannot hope to emulate “naturally.” Both the world of the senses and the languages that try to describe it are

rich and complex, but they are not all there is, or all that we can imagine. Perception is less than conception.

For the most part, our sensory world serves us well. We can move in it, act in it, interact in it, survive in it. The fact

that we sense and perceive in only three dimensions, plus time (!), is more than adequate for what we need

to do. We may “know,” for example, because physicists

tell us, that a solid object is not just mostly empty space; in fact that concrete “object” is a rapidly changing set

of shifting probabilities of mostly empty space—which may in fact be “filled” with “dark matter” that by defini-

tion can’t be detected. But it would not be useful to “see” the world that way. The morning after he proved the

relative emptiness of the atom, Ernest Rutherford was terrified to get out of bed, lest he fall endlessly through the solid floor.

whole language of clues for clues: the word “crazy” may

Yet we can conceive beyond what we can see, hear,

the letters “AB.” Solving the puzzle involves solving the

verse in ways that challenge the senses. We can use our

point to an anagram; the word “sailor” may indicate clues—before you use them to solve the puzzle! In the cryptic class our teacher stressed one essential fact: if

you look at a clue in terms of its literal meaning—and it usually has one, some kind of “surface sense”—you will almost never solve it.

smell, taste and touch, and “make sense” of the uni-

minds to define different “sizes” of infinity; to construct

mathematically a universe that is infinite but limited, and which does not fit our everyday three dimensions; to strive for a “theory of everything” that goes beyond almost everything our day-to-day experience tells us.

Perhaps THAT is precisely the point and the pull of the

That simple little puzzle, that teases us with “Don’t stop

through the surface meaning of language, because lan-

tion. Not a bad way, then, to waste an hour or two. Or, in

well-crafted puzzle. It teases us to go below, beyond or

guage is an invented and limited construction, pointing to meaning but not containing it. Puzzles remind us that

there,” may be the key to unlocking the doors of concepmy case, at least three.

15

northword: A Literary Journal Of Canada’s North

contributors

douglas abel is an actor, director, writer, and voice and

A fixture at Campbell’s Music, Scott also supports all of

documentary, Yours, Lovingly. He continues to puzzle.

on a personal mission to positively impact the world

speech teacher. He has just completed a World War 1 video Poetry is dorothy bentley’s favoured method for selfexpression and storytelling. She currently teaches English and Math, and she enjoys the abundant outdoor

life Alberta offers. Read about her and her work at www. dorothybentley.net

chris bowers is a writer and actor who has lived in

Fort McMurray for the last 8 years and is proud to call

it home. You can read more of his work on his website cjbuzz.com. He is currently a Kennel Supervisor at the

Wood Buffalo Humane Society and is passionate about helping rescues and finding them homes.

terese diprose was born in New York City in 1946, grew

up in Detroit, moved to Ottawa in 1975 and Fort McMur-

ray in 1981. Terese was an active member of the Arts and Crafts Guild until the Evacuation in May, 2016.

owen erskine writes, “A born and raised Northerner.

Also a husband , father and entrepreneur. Looking to let out an inner voice ’cause being a famous rapper didn’t work out.”

travis hoyles writes, “Born and raised in Newfoundland, Canada. Currently residing and working in Fort McMur-

ray, with my lovely fiancée Desirée. In my spare time, I enjoy writing prose and poetry, as well as reading as much as possible. A couple of my favorite authors are Haruki Murakami and David Foster Wallace.”

through music. When not championing arts, Scott can be found spending time with his wife, Natasha, and

daughters Emelia and Evelyn, exploring the world and pursuing happiness.

desirée samuelson is a 24-year-old born and raised in

St. John’s, Newfoundland. She is currently living in Fort

McMurray with her fiancé Travis and her wonderful

family. Her passion for creativity extends into the world of poetry and in her free time, gardening.

liana wheeldon graduated from Emily Carr College of Art & Design with a focus on printmaking, but drawing, painting and mixed media work have consumed

her since. Her work is influenced by popular culture and our relationship with the natural world. Since moving to

Fort McMurray in 2009, Liana has been very active in the arts community as a volunteer and arts administrator.

carmen wells is a Metis artist who originally hails from Vernon BC, but has found a home in Fort McMurray. Carmen works full time as Regulatory Manager

at McMurray Metis, and works on pieces in her home studio. She writes, “My process for my work is a form of

meditation for me; it may vary from time to time, but

I free my hands from my mind and let the work reveal

itself. The piece will become a life all its own, and I am merely bringing it to light. A lot of my work is based on instinct and feeling, which started as an idea.”

timothy macpherson works as a mechanical engineer

Though veronica wood is attending Keyano College as

those spent with his wife and two daughters. He enjoys

she struggles to fulfill. In a world of chaos she is held

at a major oilsands company. His favorite moments are

learning other languages, going on long walks in nature, and classical music (both listening and playing). He has

more books than shelves and more aspirations than books.

Originally from Drumheller, Alberta, scott meller has

now called Fort McMurray home for more than 20 years.

16

the Arts with his colleagues at ACWB, and by working

a Bachelor of Education student, writing is the passion together by a good cup of coffee and God’s grace.

riley woodford writes, “Literary artist residing in Fort

McMurray. Proud member of the community since 2012, and proud to have been picked for the Arts Council of Wood Buffalo’s artist spotlight for May 2019.”

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