The Journal Writer: Example Steps for Keeping a Nature Journal

April 10, 2022April 2, 2022 / thealiennextdoor / 1 Comment

Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair
Kahlil Gibran

*White birch tree in mixed cedar hemlock forest, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

According to naturalist John Muir Laws, “Keeping a journal of your observations, questions, and reflections will enrich your experiences and develop gratitude, reference, and the skills of a naturalist. The goal of nature journaling is not create a portfolio of pretty pictures but to develop a tool to help you see, wonder, and remember your experiences.”

*Sketches from “The Laws Guide to Nature Drawing and Journaling” by John Muir Laws*

Here are the steps for keeping a nature journal:

Decide on the kind of nature journal you want to make: your decision should take into account whether you wish to include samples, pictures or only text. If you’re using a notebook (not a computer) size is important. Keep it large enough to include what you need but small enough to be portable. You may wish to create a journal only for a specific place, topic, issue or trip (e.g., the river behind your place; local birds; recycling in your community; your trip to Tanzania or the local zoo). There are different kinds of journal styles for different uses. For instance, Grinnell journals are field journals used by scientists and phenology journals are specific to making field observations. If you are really serious about journaling in nature — rain or shine— you can get one with waterproof paper, like Rite in the Rain, or DeckExpert. Butler Survey Supplies also makes waterproof loose leaf paper.
Make or buy a suitable journal: most nature journals are compiled from notebooks or notepads of plain white paper. You can get some that have one side lined for writing and the opposite side unlined for drawing, sketches and pasting in pictures or samples. Make sure your journal is sturdy and protected against the elements. Some covers are waterproof. Otherwise, it might be a good idea to carry a plastic bag with you.
Get the other equipment you need: if you plan to make sketches or paint with watercolor or collect specimens, ensure that you have the equipment: pencils, pencil crayons, paint kit, adhesive tape, camera, other collection material. A backpack would be useful to put your journal and materials into.
Dedicate time and place to journaling: nature journals, like most themed journals, do not need to be kept daily or on a routine. Journal entries will depend on the specific topic or area you have chosen to follow. Keep your journal handy to your journal topic. You may wish to keep it and associated materials in a dedicated backpack, handy to grab when you go on your outings. If you keep lists of things to bring on various trips or outings, include the journal.
Observe the world around you: nature journaling relies mostly on observing and reflecting. Cultivate your observational skills by learning to quiet your mind from distractions and focusing on the subject matter. Sketching and taking pictures can help provide the focus you need as well as giving you something to put into your journal. Slow down. Stop and watch and listen. Get close. Don’t be afraid to crouch and move in close. The wonders of nature are often right in front of your nose, just waiting for a new way to be seen.
Write on location: your nature journal will be most valuable if you use it in the field to record what you see as you see it. If you rely on your memory to write in your journal later, it will be less accurate (though it might be more poetic). You are more likely to make an entry if you bring your journal with you; if you leave your journal at home and wait until later, you may not get to it and the magic of the moment may be lost. Once you get home and revisit your entry, you can confirm and elaborate on your observations in the field.
Begin each entry with location, date, time: “where” and “when” are important pieces of information to include in any journal entry. They are particularly important in a nature journal. Time and place relate to important natural cycles like season and diurnal cycle. If your nature journal is more scientific, you may wish to include other important descriptors like weather, temperature, wind, precipitation, etc. You may wish to leave the odd page blank as space to paste in additional information from later research related to your entry.
Record observations in several ways: regardless of whether you consider yourself a good artist or not, sketches and drawings can provide a wealth of information (that you may not have thought to add in your writing) and add an element of interest to a journal entry. Pictures are a great tool for adding accurate details to an observation. Don’t be afraid to get close. All too often we take a picture, thinking the camera sees what we see (and interpret) and when we look at the photo the object of your attention is too far away or surrounded by so much “noise” it’s hard to distinguish.
Learn more about what you saw: it’s a good idea to confirm and elaborate your observations with research. When you go to the library or read online about what you saw, you will likely generate even more interest. This is where sketches or images or samples come in handy, particularly if you want to identify something you’ve seen.
Revisit your past entries: you may wish to consult a previous entry to compare with something you’ve just observed or use it in an experiment you’re conducting. Either way, reading your nature journal can be a great learning experience and a lot of fun.

*White birch tree, showing lenticels, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

The American Museum of Natural History describes a field journal as being unique to the journalist. “There is no one way to keep a field journal,” they say. “Some scientists will sketch simple pencil drawings, and others will paint colorful, detailed images. You can use whatever tools work best for you. Try working with pens, pencils or watercolors to capture an image, whether it is a view of the Moon, the veins of a leaf, or the legs of a beetle.” You can record your observations with charts, list and labels, sketches, samples and photos. You can also write long, detailed descriptions.

*Journal page (image by stowelandtrust.org)*

Some questions they come up with to help prompt you include:

“What do I see?” Some things to include are: size, shape and color, what it is doing, how it relates to other things, why it is so interesting to you.
“Do I see anything that surprises me?”
“How have I traveled to this spot?” This is good information for possible later visits, especially if you wish to do a series of related observations.
“What tools do I have?” This is good to remember for later visits and to assess the appropriateness of the observation. In most scientific observations, the methods and techniques used are critical to the validity of the observation.
“Who is with me on this expedition?” Researchers always include who was there. This helps for later consultation.
“What time of day is it?” In the natural sciences time of day is critical because so much in nature is diurnal (e.g., responds and changes as the day changes)

*White birch tree with polypore fungus, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Lynda Richardson at Virginia Wildlife talks about keeping a nature journal, which includes plein air painting and what goes into a field kit.

*Page from Lynda Richardson’s nature journal (image by L. Richardson)*

Sixteen year old Fiona Gillogly tells the wonderful story of how she started journaling in the “The joy of curiosity in my nature journal.”

*Page of Fiona Gillogly’s nature journal (image by F. Gillogly)*

While recently browsing on the Internet, I ran across a very attractive yet simple nature blog. What made Judy Butler’s “Naturalist Journal: Down the Nature Trail” so appealing was her mixed use of regular text augmented with scanned handwritten pages containing color-pencil drawings and flower pressings. This charming “homespun” expression resembled a real three-dimensional journal.

Botanical artist and illustrator Lara Call Gastinger teaches how to maintain a perpetual journal.

*Nature Journal page by Lara Call Gastinger*

*Nature Journal page by Lara Gall Gastinger*

This article is an excerpt from The Journal Writer: Finding Your Voice (Pixl Press, 2013) by Nina Munteanu.

The Journal Writer is the second writing guide in the Alien Guidebook Series. This comprehensive guidebook will help you choose the best medium, style and platform for your expressive writing. The guide provides instruction on issues of safety, using the computer and electronic devices, social media and the internet.

“Engaging, accessible, and easily applicable…Brava, Nina, brava.”—David Merchant, Instructor, Louisianna Tech University

“Straight up, fact-filled, enriching, joyful and thorough…Nina is honest, she is human and she wants you to succeed.”—Cathi Urbonas, Halifax writer

References:

Munteanu, Nina. 2013. “The Journal Writer: Finding Your Voice.” Pixl Press, Vancouver. 170pp.

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press(Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

Embracing Simplicity as an Interbeing

March 20, 2022March 21, 2022 / thealiennextdoor / 1 Comment

*Ice ‘pearls’ forming in Jackson Creek, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

I’m a writer and aside from putting out the odd novel and short story, I teach writing for a living.

I teach online courses and tutor students at various writing centres at the University of Toronto on scientific and scholarly writing. I coach fiction writers of novels and short stories to publication. I help writers all over the world achieve clear, accurate, and compelling narrative, whether it’s fiction or non-fiction. I do this by focussing on the clarity and direction of narrative. The key to good narrative and good storytelling—whether it is a historical fantasy or a scholarly essay—is simplicity. Ernest Hemmingway knew that. His writing emulated simple and became profound.

The best writing can take something complex and express it simply. Just as with valid scientific theory (recall Einstein’s ‘simple’ and elegant theory of relativity, E=mc²), effective communication embraces complexity through simple expression and resonates with accuracy and power. Embracing complexity through simplicity is achieved through metaphor, key images and symbols that encompass an entire culture or thought.

If I were to write, “Jack’s office was a prison cell,” you’d have a good idea of what Jack’s office was like. In five simple words the concept and its emotional associations are clearly conveyed. This is because we all have a clear idea of what a prison cell is like. Yours may not be the same imagined prison cell as mine, but the metaphor works as effectively. It’s that simple.

Lately, I’ve taken the lesson of simplicity into my life decisions.

*My car on a country road through a snow-covered forest, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

For the past ten years or so, I’ve become a bit of a nomad. After bringing up my family, I left my marriage nest in British Columbia, divested myself of virtually all my possessions (what I own fits in my car—a 1998 Jetta), and traveled across Canada from the west coast to the east coast and Nova Scotia. I lived in Lunenburg and Mahone Bay for several years, spent some time in Toronto, and am currently living in the Kawartha Region of Ontario. Before COVID-19, I travelled the world, through the United States, much of Europe, parts of Africa and Asia and Australia.

What I learned during my travels is that a person doesn’t need that much to live a full life. My health. A safe place to sleep. Food. Adventure for my curious mind. Purpose and meaning (something to live for): good people to love and share my adventures with and a way to feel that I am helping to make this a better world.

Living a simple life helps me find focus, meaning and joy.

In her article in YES! Magazine, Megan Sweas writes that “living simply can help us challenge society’s inequities, live in alignment with nature, and build community.” Sweas argues that a simple lifestyle is an ethical choice: “living simply so that others may simply live.” As the saying credited to Gandhi goes.

*Vietnamese Zen Buddhist teacher and author of more than 100 books, Thich Nhat Hanh celebrates 94th birthday (Contributed by Don Farber)*

Cultivating the Insight of Interbeing

Buddhist Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh coined the term “interbeing” to describe our interconnectedness. In a 2017 article entitled “The Insight of Interbeing,” Hanh described his experience:

“About thirty years ago I was looking for an English word to describe our deep interconnection with everything else. I liked the word “togetherness,” but I finally came up with the word interbeing. The verb “to be” can be misleading, because we cannot be by ourselves, alone. “To be” is always to “inter-be.” If we combine the prefix “inter” with the verb “to be,” we have a new verb, “inter-be.” To inter-be and the action of interbeing reflects reality more accurately. We inter-are with one another and with all life.
human bodies are ‘shared, rented, and occupied’ by countless other tiny organisms, without whom we couldn’t ‘move a muscle, drum a finger, or think a thought.’ Our body is a community, and the trillions of non-human cells in our body are even more numerous than the human cells. Without them, we could not be here in this moment. Without them, we wouldn’t be able to think, to feel, or to speak. There are, he says, no solitary beings. The whole planet is one giant, living, breathing cell, with all its working parts linked in symbiosis.”
Thich Nhat Hanh

Hanh drew the analogy of a piece of paper to make his point about interbeing:

“If you are a poet, you will see clearly that there is a cloud floating in this sheet of paper. Without a cloud, there will be no rain; without rain, the trees cannot grow; and without trees, we cannot make paper. The cloud is essential for the paper to exist. If the cloud is not here, the sheet of paper cannot be here either. So we can say that the cloud and the paper inter-are…If we look into this sheet of paper even more deeply, we can see the sunshine in it. If the sunshine is not there, the forest cannot grow. In fact, nothing can grow. Even we cannot grow without sunshine. And so, we know that the sunshine is also in this sheet of paper. The paper and the sunshine inter-are. And if we continue to look, we can see the logger who cut the tree and brought it to the mill to be transformed into paper. And we see the wheat. We know the logger cannot exist without his daily bread, and therefore the wheat that became his bread is also in this sheet of paper. And the logger’s father and mother are in it too.”
Thich Nhat Hanh

We inter-are. “Everything relies on everything else in the cosmos in order to manifest—whether a star, a cloud, a flower, a tree, or you and me,” said Hanh.

Hanh argued that this all starts with mindfulness. Mindfulness is rooted in Buddhist meditation. Practicing mindfulness helps us live a fuller and happier life; we become fully focused on the present moment, not absorbed in regrets, plans, worries or other thoughts. When we practice mindfulness we create more stillness which allows us to see more clearly what brings us happiness and what causes suffering. With this awareness, we can make positive choices in everyday life.

Those who practice mindfulness and contemplate interbeing seek “to protect life, practice generosity, love responsibly, speak lovingly, and listen deeply, as well as consume in a way that preserves peace, joy, and wellbeing in oneself, others, and the Earth,” said Hanh. He added that “understanding how their own consumption—of a burger, a glass of wine, Facebook, or gossip—causes harm is what spurs them to give up such ‘toxins’ and consume less.”

To live more simply is to live more lightly on this beautiful planet. And that’s a story worth reading…

*The creek’s thalweg reveals itself as the creek ice melts, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Interview with Author Simon Rose on “The Stone of the Seer”

March 6, 2022February 16, 2022 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

Calgary author Simon Rose has published eighteen novels for children and young adults, eight guides for writers, more than a hundred nonfiction books, and many articles on a wide variety of topics. Simon has agreed to talk to me about his latest release, The Stone of the Seer, the first novel in the Stone of the Seer series.

Here’s my interview with Simon:

Nina: What’s the new series all about?

Simon: The Stone of the Seer is an exciting historical fantasy series of adventure novels for young adults, primarily set in the turbulent period of the English Civil War.

The Stone of the Seer, book one in the series, features the Vikings, Leonardo da Vinci, and the political turmoil of the 1640s. At Habingdon House, Lady Elizabeth Usborne, Kate, and Tom encounter a magical black stone, mysterious ancient manuscripts, and the incredible time viewing device known as the tempus inpectoris, all while under constant threat from the murderous witchfinder, Daniel Tombes.

The other novels in the series are Royal Blood and Revenge of the Witchfinder, which will be published in the coming months. There will be a box set including all three novels at some point in the future as well.

Nina: What’s the story behind the story?

Simon: The story, main characters, and some of the settings in The Stone of the Seer are fictional but are based on true events and the story features real historical characters, such as King Charles I. The English Civil War was a series of conflicts in England, Scotland, and Ireland in the 1640s and early 1650s. The war originated in the struggle between Charles I and Parliament, regarding how the country should be governed.

The king’s defeat in the civil war led to his trial and execution in January 1649. The monarchy was abolished and replaced first by the Commonwealth of England and then the Protectorate, before the monarchy was restored in 1660. However, the defeat of Charles I confirmed that an English monarch could not rule the country without the consent of Parliament, although this wasn’t legally established until the Glorious Revolution in 1688.

Nina: You must have done quite a lot of historical research for this book.

Simon: Yes, it’s a time period I’ve always been interested in, but it still involved considerable research. I’ve included a glossary at the end of each of the three novels in the series where you can learn more about the historical events, settings, and leading characters from the English Civil War, locations that are mentioned in the text, life in the seventeenth century, and details from other historical periods that are featured in the story. There’s also a page on my website all about the historical background behind the books, with links to online sources about the time period.

Nina: What are you currently working on?

Simon: I always have a current project or two and right now I’m writing another historical fantasy novel series set in World War II. I’m also working on sequels to the Flashback series of paranormal novels, which includes Flashback, Twisted Fate, and Parallel Destiny, which you can learn more about on my website at simon-rose.com. In addition, I’m working on screenplay adaptations of the Shadowzone series and have also completed a number of picture books for younger readers, which I hope will be published soon.

Nina: You also work with other authors, don’t you?

Simon: Yes, I do quite a lot of that these days. I provide coaching, editing, consulting, and mentoring services for writers of novels, short stories, fiction, nonfiction, biographies, inspirational books, and in many other genres. I also work as a writing instructor at the University of Calgary and have served as the Writer-in-Residence with the Canadian Authors Association. You can find details of some of the projects I’ve worked on, along with some references and recommendations, on my website.

Nina: Where can people buy The Stone of the Seer?

Simon: The novel can be purchased at most of the usual places, as follows:

Ebook: Amazon Canada, Amazon USA, Kobo, iBooks, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords

Paperback: Amazon Canada, Amazon USA

Thanks Simon, for being my guest here today and the very best of luck with the Stone of the Seer series. I hope the first book sells thousands of copies in the coming weeks and months.

You can learn more about Simon and his work on his website at www.simon-rose.com, where you can also link to his social media sites and other locations online.

*The Otonabee River glinting on a sunny winter day, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

The Beauty & Magic of Snow

February 27, 2022February 28, 2022 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

*Nina, the snow bear, enjoying a heavy snowfall in early winter, ON (photo by M. Cox)*

I grew up in southern Quebec, where the first snow of the season often came from the sky in a thick passion. Huge flakes of unique beauty settled on my coat sleeves and within minutes I was covered in snow. I would stand enraptured and study each one as I could. Snow wraps everything in a blanket of soft acceptance. It creates a dazzling face on a dark Earth. It refuses to distinguish between artificial and natural. It covers everything—decorated house, shabby old car, willowy trees, manicured lawn—beneath its white mantle. It quiets the Earth.

*Old barn after a fresh snow near Wolfville, NS (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

Have you ever gone for an evening walk in the fresh crisp snow, boots crunching, snow glistening in the moonlight? Each step is its own symphony of textured sound. A kind of collaboration with the deep of the night and Nature’s own whisperings.

*Heavy snowfall in a forest during early winter, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

*A heavy snow falls in the Beach in Toronto, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

Snow is a shape shifter, charging down in a fierce blizzard and as glittering hoarfrost that forms on cold, clear nights. Snow is a gypsy, conspiring with the clever wind to form mini-tornadoes and swirling on the cold pavement like misbehaving fairies. It drifts like a vagabond and piles up, cresting over the most impressive structure, creating phantoms out of icons. Some people, fearful of the chaos and confusion that snow brings, hide indoors out of the cold. Others embrace its many forms, punching holes through the snow crust to find the treasure of powder beneath or ploughing through its softness, leaving behind an ivory trail of adventure.

*Snow crystals poised on the leaves of a white cedar, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

Snow is magic. It reveals as it cloaks. Animals leave their telltale tracks behind their silent sleuthing. No two snowflakes are alike. Yet every non-aggregated snowflake forms a six-fold radial symmetry, based on the hexagonal alignment of water molecules when they form ice. Tiny perfectly shaped ice-flowers drift down like world peace and settle in a gentle carpet of white. Oddly, a snowflake is really clear and colourless. It only looks white because the whole spectrum of light bounces off the crystal facets in diffuse reflection (i.e., at many angles). My son, who skies, extols “champagne powder”—very smooth and dry snow, ideal for gliding on. On powder days, after a fresh snowfall, mountain trees form glabrous Henry Moore-like sculptures. Skiers wind their way between the “snow ghosts,” leaving meandering double-helix tracks behind them.

*Pump Peak, north view with snow ghosts, Mount Seymour, BC (photo by Kevin Klassen)*

*Skier shushing through powder among snow ghosts, Kaslo BC (photo by Kevin Klassen)*

*Snow ghosts at sunset, BC (photo by Kevin Klassen)*

Snow is playful. It beckons you to stick out your tongue and taste the clouds. Snow is like an unruly child. Snow is the trickster. It stirs things up. Makes a mess. It is the herald of change, invigorating, fresh and wondrous. Cars skid in it and squeal with objection. Grumpy drivers honk their horns, impatient to get home; while others sigh in their angry wake. Brown slush flies in a chaotic fit behind a bus and splatters your new coat. Boys and girls of all ages venture outside, mischief glinting in their eyes, and throw snowballs. Great battles are fought in backyards where children build awesome forts and defend them with fierce determination.

*The author’s son and friends playing in a snowstorm, BC (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

*Laundry left out during a snowfall, BC (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

In the end, snow—a solid form of water—remains implacable, untouched by our spurious activities. It lies beyond our tedious attempts to salt it, dirty it, move it or make it, turn it into slush, sublimate it or even desublimate it. Snow, like the water it is, cannot be ‘owned’ or kept. Ultimately, it will do its job to energize the earth, give life, then quietly transform, take its leave, and move on. Along with its various water cousins, it will move mountains particle by particle with a subtle hand; it will paint the world with beauty then return to its fold and rejoice; it will transcend time and space to share and teach and transform a world.

*Skier exploring a high mountain bowl, Cloudburst Mountain, Squamish, BC (photo by Kevin Klassen)*

This article is an excerpt from “Water Is…The Meaning of Water”(Pixl Press)

*Jackson Creek flows through a forest after a fresh snowfall in early winter, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

My Story … And My Dream

February 21, 2022February 24, 2022 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

*Nina, age four, pretending to read, Granby, Quebec (photo by Maria Munteanu)*

I started writing and drawing as soon as I could hold a pencil. Even before I could read, I wanted to become a “paperback writer” like in the old Beatles song.

It was an incredible moment of clarity for me and despite being challenged by my stern and unimaginative primary school teacher, who kept trying to corral me into being “normal”, I wasn’t going to let anyone stem my creativity and eccentric — if not wayward — approach to literature, language and writing. I was a little brat and I knew it. She and I didn’t exactly get along. But I did okay and, despite her acidic commentary, Miss House awarded me some A’s and B’s…

*Country road in late fall, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

I wrote some fan fiction but quickly found my own creations far more interesting and less limiting.

As a teenager, I wrote, directed and recorded “radio plays” with my sister. When we weren’t bursting into riotous laughter, it was actually pretty good. She and I shared a bedroom in the back of the house and at bedtime we opened our doors of imagination to a cast of thousands. We fed each other wild stories of space travel, adventure and intrigue, whispering and giggling well into the dark night, long after our parents were snoring in their beds.

Those days scintillated with liberating originality, excitement and joy.

(Photo: Nina Munteanu and sister Doina Maria Munteanu at Grouse Mountain, BC)

*My first attempt at a graphic novel (pencil and ink drawings by a very young Nina)*

I also enjoyed animation and drew several cartoon strips, peopled with crazy characters. I dreamt of writing graphic novels like Green Lantern and Spiderman. My hero was science fiction author and futurist, Ray Bradbury; I vowed to write profoundly stirring tales like he did.

I had found what excites me — my passion for telling stories—and I’d inadvertently stumbled upon an important piece of the secret formula for success: 1) having discovered my passion, I decided on a goal; 2) I found and wished to emulate a “hero” who’d achieved that goal and therefore had a “case study”; 3) I applied myself to the pursuit of my goal. Oops … the third one, well … it went downhill from there … Life got in the way.

*The Beeches area of Toronto after a heavy snowstorm, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

I grew up.

Well, that, and the environment intervened. In several ways. It started with my parents. Recognizing my talent and interest in the fine arts (I was good in visual arts), they pushed me to get a fine arts degree in university and go into teaching or advertizing. They didn’t see fiction writing as a viable career or a strength of mine (I was lousy at spelling and, despite my ability to tell stories and my love for graphic novels, I didn’t read books much). I can still remember my father’s lecture to me about how perfect the teaching or nursing profession was for me. I wasn’t enamored by either. The second blow to my author-ego came in the form of a school “interest-ability” test, meant to prepare us for our career decisions. I remember the test consisting of an IQ portion (spatial, English and math), and a psychology portion (including problem-solving and scenarios meant to tease out our affinity for a particular career). Secretly harboring my paperback novelist dream, I filled out my forms with great excitement. I still remember the deflating results, which suggested that I was best suited to be a sergeant in the army. “Writing” as a career barely made it on the graph, and scored well below “computer programmer” and “mechanic”; none of which interested me.

*Country road in a he*avy snow, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

I got involved in the environmental movement, while quietly holding my dream of being a paperback novelist close to my heart. I got several degrees in ecology and consulted for various companies to help protect the environment. I wrote a lot in those days, although it was more about the ecology of creeks and about industrial pollution. But my passion for writing fiction continued to simmer. Magazines started publishing my articles—my first sale was to Shared Vision Magazine in 1995 on environmental citizenship—and my published articles became my entrance into the world of fiction. Once I began publishing fiction stories—my first short fiction sale was “Arc of Time” to Armchair Aesthete in 2002—I never looked back.

Eventually, I was publishing a novel and several short stories every year. My fiction most often focused on environmental issues, humanity’s relationship with the natural world, and how we reconcile our reliance on technology with our respect for the natural world.

*Publications of long or short eco-fiction that include my writing or editing*

Throughout my writer’s journey, and particularly early in my journey, I weathered the threshold guardians, tricksters and shadows: friends and family who called what I did a hobby, something I did just to pass the time; people who didn’t believe in me, envied my drive or simply thought I was wasting my time; even industry scammers who preyed on my dreams and wanted my money for nothing in return; and ultimately my own fears and frustrations on query after query and rejection after rejection. Throughout it all, I never stopped dreaming.

*Nina’s family hiking and boating in British Columbia over the years*

I’ve travelled through Europe, Africa, parts of Asia, and Australia. I raised a family and lived all over Canada from the Pacific to the Atlantic coast. I worked as a barista, shopkeeper and science lab instructor, then as environmental consultant, writing instructor and writing coach. During these wonderful life-adventures, I never stopped writing.

*Nina Munteanu in the castle at Gruyères, Switzerland (photo by Jane Raptor)*

To date, I have written and sold over three dozen eco-fiction, science fiction and fantasy novels, non-fiction books, short stories and articles. I have sold short stories to magazines in Canada and the U.S. with translations and reprints in Israel, Poland, Greece, and Romania. My short fiction has appeared in Neo-Opsis Science Fiction Magazine, Chiaroscuro, subTerrain, Apex Magazine, Metastellar, and several anthologies. I’ve seen my short stories nominated for the Aurora Prix Award (Canada’s premier award for writing science fiction and fantasy) and the Foundation of Speculative Fiction Fountain Award. Recognition for my work includes the Midwest Book Review Reader’s Choice Award, finalist for Foreword Magazine’s Book of the Year Award, the SLF Fountain Award, and The Delta Optimist Reviewers Choice Award.

*Nina celebrates her adventures in Toronto (left) and Paris (right)*

I’ve published nine novels with nominations for the Aurora Prix, Foreword Magazine Book of the Year (several times), and various Reader’s Choice awards. My non-fiction book “Water Is…” (Pixl Press)—a scientific study and personal journey as limnologist, mother, and teacher—was Margaret Atwood’s pick in 2016 in the New York Times ‘The Year in Reading.’ My recent eco-novel released in 2020 by Inanna Publications “A Diary in the Age of Water“—about four generations of women and their relationship to water in a rapidly changing world—was a silver medalist for the Literary Titan Award, the Bronze winner of Foreword Magazine’s Book of the Year in 2020, longlisted for the Miramichi Review’s ‘Very Best Book of the Year Award,’ and a finalist for the 2021 International Book Award. Reviewers have described it as “lyrical…thought-provoking…unique and captivating…insightful…profound and brilliant…unsettling and yet deliciously readable…” One reviewer described it as a “a bit of a hybrid” and the writer “a risk taker”—which I quite liked. Another reviewer acknowledged that this was not a book for everyone and yet she found it “strangely compelling.”—which I found delicious.

It’s been twenty years since I seriously started my writing career with my first publication in 1995; my work is now recognized and translated throughout the world and I frequently get writing commissions from reputable magazines and publications. I am also frequently invited for speaking engagements and radio/podcast/TV interviews about my science and my writing. In short, I’ve come home; I’d taken a rather long detour but I’ve acquired some tools along the way. It’s been and continues to be a wonderful and exciting journey; and part of what made it so was that I never stopped dreaming and writing.

“…If you have nothing at all to create, then perhaps you create yourself…”
Carl Jung

A sampling of literary publications up to 2021-end that have included something of mine (short fiction, long fiction, non-fiction)

*Two people walk through snowy path after a fresh heavy snowfall, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

“Sunlight on Snow” an ekphrastic poem by Bev Gorbet

February 14, 2022October 21, 2022 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

*Snow glitter rains down from cedar tree on a sunny day after a major snowfall, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

Bright lit: the great cedar forest,
Cathedral dome skies bright sunlit above…
All of a fulgent blue, all of an azure glow…
Everywhere, the peace of a radiant sunlight

*Pine tree with snow glitter behind in Jackson Creek Park, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Worlds of magic and a most sacred light
Bright sunlit day, bright shafts
Through a portico of treetops high above
The trees reaching so very high,
Deep into the sheltering skies

*Snow-covered Buckthorn with path through a snowy meadow, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Snow decked branch and bough: gently swaying memory;
Movement into the swaying winter winds
The gentle whispers, the gentle sighs
The treetops,
Their song, their gentle touch, their toss, their glide

*Snow dust falls in a cedar forest, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

A deepest silence, a most profound contemplation
Midst snowdrift and snowlit mists as they shift
Between icy branch and snow covered green bough

Dust of snow and cedar lights:
All the ethereal wonders of a snowy day,
The snow blessed, lost ephemeral lands
In a full clothed beauty, snowy wonders: of sunlight, of shadow

*Snow-covered shrub on a snowy day, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Oh! sacred forest, this great beauty of place
To overwhelm, to protect, to shelter…
Here, a deepest meditation, a deepest circumspection…
Snow and ice and all the wonder of a glorious sunlit day
All the ephemeral beauty in a winter’s sunlight world.

*Snow dust rains down from snow-laden cedar trees in Jackson Creek Park, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

Bev Gorbet is a Toronto poet and retired school teacher. She has published several poems with the Retired Teachers Organization and most recently in “Literary Connection IV: Then and Now” (In Our Words Inc., 2019), edited by Cheryl Antao Xavier.

A Late Autumn Snowfall–An Ekphrastic Poem by Bev Gorbet

January 23, 2022October 21, 2022 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

*Otonabee River glints in the sun as it snows, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

An autumn’s last days, fierce snowfalls, fall lights and storm
The autumn landscape now full of wild moods,
Hints of a magic wilderness and an encircling cold,
The bitter winds, the fast falling hail:
Landscape echo and retreat

*Mallards contently swim the marsh under a heavy snow, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Muntean*u)

Snow veil mists over the receiving marsh lands:
Somber cloud grays, shades of amber glow…
Mallard ducks unconcernedly paddling
On the smooth black marsh waters
The snows above falling in majestic blizzards:
Powerful bursts of snow over treetop
And bended bough,
Moody haze lit skies high falling away
In blasts of snow and wind

*Heavy snow falls in the riparian forest, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Snowy reflections over high treetop above…
Snowy days and last messages of a fading autumn’s glory:
Detritus of bronze leaf, the withered beauty of a fading goldenrod
A final sadness, autumn’s last messages,
Haunted promises of a brilliant winter sunshine
On snowy fields, velvet days and gold

*Snow flies horizontally in a fierce wind, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Now the forests bend, overwhelmed by the flying snow
Thick tumbling down, shards of ice and rain
Clouds of snow falling everywhere
Forest pathways now covered in a lucent white glow,
The shaded greens of cedar and fir picked out in a forest landscape;
The continuing deluge, wild nature’s primordial powers:
Mad windstorm and snow drift

*Sun emerges over Thompson Creek marsh after the snowstorm, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

The still marsh waters now reflect the gray cloud, the sky high above
All the windstorm madness, the bog detritus on the still marsh
Now snow covered and silent, the snowfall ended
The marsh now a sacred retreat: worlds of a glorious and gentle reflection,
A tender, and radiant peace overall.

Bev Gorbet is a Toronto poet and retired school teacher. She has published several poems with the Retired Teachers Organization and most recently in “Literary Connection IV: Then and Now” (In Our Words Inc., 2019), edited by Cheryl Antao Xavier.

*Thompson Creek marsh after a first snow in late autumn, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

*Nina Munteanu revels in a snowstorm in Ontario (photo by Merridy Cox)*

What I Love About Teaching How To Write

December 22, 2021December 13, 2021 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

*Path leading into a mixed gnarly forest in a December fog, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

During a recent professional development session for writing instructors at UofT, I got a prompt to share what I loved about teaching how to write. We had eight minutes to write what first came to us. I found myself writing easily and quickly. Here’s what I shared:

*Path through a gnarly forest in a December fog, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

I love how fluid it is. I used to work as an environmental consultant (as a limnologist) and what I loved about that job was the lack of structure and the diversity of projects. No day was the same. And—like a box of chocolates—I never knew what lay in store for me. I flourish in that kind of chaotic problem-solving.
Teaching how to write is like that.
Teaching how to write is about process. It’s about the journey and the relationships, not just about things. It’s more about how they fit together, why they work, and where they go. The act of teaching is always changing. It’s fluid, like water. And how apt, considering that our bodies are over two-thirds water. Just like water, we like to flow.
Teaching how to write is more than teaching how to use a tool, how to string a good sentence together or choosing the best word; it includes “voice”, expression, identity, freedom, and autonomy. Writing is power and I am empowering when I teach writing.
What a cool thing to do!

*Path along the edge of a small woodland in the December fog, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

The Witch’s Hat and Other Fungi Tales

December 12, 2021October 21, 2021 / thealiennextdoor / 1 Comment

*Witch’s Hat (Hygrocybe conica) by cedar tree, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

In my recent wanderings in the small cedar forest by the river near my house, I chanced upon a community of emerging reddish-orange fungi. They sat among the cedars in a crowded aggregation. Some pushed their way up through the duff like little buds, barely visible; others rose up with pointed steep caps; and others had opened further into tiny ‘witch’s hats’ and blackened.

*Several stages of Witch’s Hat, including blackening stage, cedar forest, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

According to Frank Dugan, fungus plays a key role in many folktales and fairy tales. “They appear as foods, poisons, diseases, decorations, dyes or tinder, and even in insults, compliments, graffiti and video games,” says the author of Fungi, Folkways and Fairy Tales: Mushrooms & Mildews in Stories, Remedies & Rituals, from Oberon to the Internet.

Fungi figure in wonderfully with stories of and about witches. “Witches have long used fungi in their potions in Europe,” Fungal Folklore tells us. Even ferry rings are called “Hexen Rings” in Germany; Hexe means witch and this refers to “the dancing of witches on Walpurgis night (the eve of May Day) when the old pagan witches were thought to hold high revelry,” writes Dugan.

Baba Yaga

In the Slavic folktale, Baba Yaga is an ancient swamp witch; she’s a cruel ogress who steals, cooks and eats her victims, usually children; OR offers them help. It’s complicated; she’s either a maternal helper or a cannibalistic villain; or both. Certainly a trickster. Baba Yaga is guardian of the fountains of the water of life and lives in a forest hut perched on bird’s legs, surrounded by pine trees and glowing skulls. She can manipulate earth and wood, and can mesmerise. Baba Yaga has lately become something of an icon for feminism and the power of the feminine.

Says Marissa Clifford in Vice: “Like other witches, deistic Baba is agent of transformation, who, according to Kitaiskaia, exists ‘kind of outside of the things which constrain human society, like time and morality.’ She may well be so compelling for women today because of her rejection of social standards, and the power that comes from that. She’s an outlier with power that isn’t derived from her beauty, or her relationships with others. Instead, it comes from within her—earth, hut, and firey stove.”

*Baba Yaga (illustration by Tatyana Chepkasova)*

Witches, Fungi & Potions

“Witches have long used fungi in their potions in Europe,” The Fungus Among Us tells us. According to Dugan, the dung-loving Panaeolus papilionaceus (Petticoat Mottlegill) was used in witch’s concoctions in Portugal. The entheogen Amanita muscaria (Fly Agaric)—the elixir of ancient alchemists—is known as Hexenpils (‘Witches’ mushroom’) in Austria. Among German tribes, it is associated with Woton/Odin, god of ecstasy, war and shamanic knowledge. Puffballs were reportedly used in potions by witches in the Basque country. Witch’s butter (Exidia spp.) also figures in folklore. “Stabbing, burning or otherwise destroying these fungi were believed to harm the witch herself,” writes Owen. The Witch’s Hat (Hygrocybe conica) is aptly named for its blackening witch-style ‘hat’ that starts bright red-orange and turns coal black.

Many country folk through the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries performed rituals to protect their crops from the devastation wrought by witches and spirits. Thiselton-Dyer discusses the malignant Roggenwolf (‘rye wolf’ of Germanic folklore) who stole children and fed on them and the various rituals peasants used to appease these Feldgeister (field spirits), such as leaving a sheaf of rye in the fields over the winter. The Roggenwolf is, of course, the personification of ergot, the fungus Claviceps purpurea, which caused convulsions, burning, “massive-appetite”, and “the sense of becoming an animal.” People who contracted ergot poisoning from the contaminated rye were accused of being witches and brutally killed.

*Young Witch’s Hats push up through the cedar forest floor, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

Ergot and The Last Summoner

In my historical fantasy “The Last Summoner,” young Vivianne Schoen, Baroness of Grunwald—accused of being a witch—is chased by her father’s guard to be burnt at the stake. Blamed for the sudden stupor of her father and the chaplain who both love their rye bread, it didn’t help that Vivianne possesses unnatural powers in metal manipulation, has weird markings or blemishes on her back or that suspicions of her preternatural mother being a witch precede her. Then odd things start to happen; cattle stop producing milk and other farm animals behave strangely. At a feast to celebrate her own coming nuptial to a foreign stranger and just after she is falsely accused of adultery, people suddenly succumb to fits of convulsions, facial distortions, hallucinations and paralysis. Targeted as the obvious candidate to blame, she must flee her home or be burnt alive at the stake:

…With a final unintelligible gasp that wet her cheek with flying spittle, he convulsed violently and pitched to the floor, shaking and vomiting his dinner.

Vivianne stared at her father, rolling and twitching in a seizure on the floor and crying out gibberish. She turned to the castle community, who were now pointing and shouting at her. Their faces had twisted from transfixed revulsion into fear and anger. Somehow they blamed her for both the stranger’s accident and her father’s sudden paroxysm. Perhaps for losing them a battle in the bargain too. Even Père Daniel’s face looked stricken with confused accusation. Until now Vivianne hadn’t realized how much his opinion of her meant to her. She felt his faltering faith drive like a blade into her heart and would have burst into tears had the crowd not suddenly grown very surly, which demanded her sudden attention.

Gertrude, the new dairymaid she’d assisted earlier, flung the first accusation: “She’s a witch!”

“Witch!” another echoed. “You heard her father call her one!”

Another servant swiftly followed with, “Just like her mother! She’s bewitched the baron! Put a spell on him with her wicked look!”

The crowd ignited to a raucous mob and a spate of accusations gushed out like a dam breaking: “My butter failed to churn because of her!”

“Look at the witchling’s eyes! They blaze with the devil’s own fire!”

“She appeared in Weikhard’s dream and now he’s ill!”

“She touched my cow and afterwards it couldn’t stand!”

“I saw the nursemaid bringing her a daily potion of nettle, mustard and mint with wine to make her lustful!”

Oh, no! They were implicating Uta along with her!

“I smelled basil and cloves in her bed chamber!”

Vivianne had used both to mask the rank odor of Uta’s anti-plague potions, completely innocent of their aphrodisiac properties. Vivianne stared in anguished despair as Père Daniel stood by, mutely sanctioning their actions. She’d thought him her champion once. But obviously this was too much for him to bear. He’d lost his trust in her. As their eyes met briefly, he suddenly gasped out strange words of gibberish. A violent shudder convulsed through him. It threw him forward, as if the devil itself were animating him, then felled him to the ground where he vomited alongside her retching father.

“She’s taken the priest!” someone shouted. “He’s doing the Viper’s dance!” Another screamed in a panic, “Watch out for her eyes!”

Vivianne turned back to the crowd. Whomever her gaze alighted upon shrank back and averted their face in terrified alarm. They were convinced that she could strike them down with a glance. To her horror a few of the castle servants jerked out of their seats with startled cries of gibberish then fell writhing to the ground; some began to vomit. Vivianne recognized the true onslaught of an epidemic. The same illness that had inflicted her father and the chaplain was attacking the staff. And again, the timing was impeccable, thought Vivianne with wry cynicism. As though God was plotting against her.

Gertrude pointed to her. “Seize her! Burn the witch! Before she kills us all!”

“Someone find her demon cat too!” Vivianne heard the doctor shout.

Several of the baron’s knights surged forward, swords drawn. As if suddenly awoken from a stupor, the Teutonic Knights at the high table leapt into action and drew their swords.

NO! Vivianne backed away in alarm. She envisioned their swords suddenly pointing back toward themselves. To her amazement, their swords flung back and the knights dropped them in shocked fright.

In that surreal moment, as the world staggered into slow motion, Vivianne saw the entire castle household draw in a long breath. Still on the floor, Père Daniel’s shakes abated long enough for him to fix lucid eyes upon her and silently mouth, “Cours, ma petite! Cours! Sauves toi!”

After a last glance at her convulsing father, Vivianne took the Père’s advice and ducked through one of the curtained archways behind the table to the kitchen stairwell, and pelted down the stairs.

“After her!” she heard the booming voice of Doctor Grien. “The witch is getting away!”

*****

Vivianne later discovers what caused the sudden ‘bewitchment’ of members of her community: all the people who became ill had eaten the rye bread. She learns about ergot poisoning of rye by the fungus Claviceps purpurea. Conditions had been ideal for ergot to thrive: damp and rainy cool weather.

*Young Witch’s Hat with peaked cone-shaped pileus, amid cedar duff, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

The Witch’s Hat

Witch’s Hats are a small agaric (cap from 1-4 cm across) that start out bright red to orange, sometimes almost yellow as they thrust up through the cedar duff, looking like buds.

The conical pileus is often curved steeply with a fairly sharp top and sometimes with edges that curve slightly inward. The stem (stipe) is often white at the base blending to yellow and will stain black with age.

*Witch’s Hat mushroom showing inward curve of cap, with key to show size, cedar tree, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

As the waxcap mushroom develops, the cap spreads out with a discernable brim while maintaining the hat peak of a witch’s hat. As it ages, it turns a deeper red-orange that blackens, often from the edges inward.

*Three stages of Witch’s Hat, from early conical to spreading and blackening hat, cedar tree, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

This tendency to blacken from bruising or with age is a good diagnostic for this mushroom. Very few others show this trait. Its gills “have the consistency of soft wax when rubbed between the fingers,” Fungus Fact Friday tells us. The gills start white to yellowish and gradually yellow and stain black.

*Stages of Witch’s Hat from budding to opening cap to blackening cap and gills, cedar forest, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

*Blackened and blackening Witches Hat caps and stems, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

*Hygrocybe conica well-represents its common name Witch’s Hat as it keeps its peak and turns totally black, cedar in Ontario forest (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

The Witch’s Hat (Hygrocybe conica), also known as Blackening Waxcap (for the obvious reason), shows a diversity of habitat preference and high variability. It tends to grow on the ground under hardwood and conifer trees. The community I stumbled upon fanned out from a few cedar trees in a small mixed cedar forest. The Witch’s Hat also likes mossy areas, where I found several near the river. The saprobic Hygrocybe conica is also a mycorrhizal fungus, sending tendrils from tree to tree.

Mycorrhizae are symbiotic relationships that form between fungi and plants. The fungi colonize the root system of a host plant—in this case some cedar trees—providing increased water and nutrient absorption capabilities while the plant provides the fungus with carbohydrates through photosynthesis.

*Mycorrhizal network (illustration by Charlotte Roy, Wikipedia)*

References:

Dugan. 2008. “Fungi, folkways & fairy tales.” North American Fungi 3(7): 23-72.

Morgan, A. 1995. “Toads and Toadstools: The Natural History, Folklore, and Cultural Oddities of a Strange Association.” Celestial Arts. Berkeley, California.

Munteanu, Nina. 2012. “The Last Summoner.” Starfire World Syndicate. Louisville, KY.

Owen, E. 2003. “Welsh Folk-Lore: A Collection of the Folk-Tales and Legends of North Wales. Kessinger Publishing. Whitefish, Montana.

Thiselton-Dyer, T.F. 1898. “Folk-Lore of Plants.” D. Appleton and Co., New York.

*Young emerging Witch’s Hats through cedar duff, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

*Witch’s Hat in cedar forest, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

“Rhapsody in the Rising Windstorms”–an ekphrastic poem by Bev Gorbet

November 14, 2021October 21, 2022 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

*Poplar trees in the late autumn, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

My heart will rise to follow in the fierce rhapsody:
Wind’s cry and rapture;
Mystical beauty in the primal call, wildernesses,
Mad windstorm moving from treetop to treetop,
From branch to bending branch, from singing leaf to leaf
Moving, high sheltering in the high tumult, skies above
Midst songs of midnight, darkest shadow, deepest shades

*Path through maple-beech forest, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

The great beauty in the wind’s mystic path
Darknesses far beyond into the cathedrals of the night:
Airs, echo and sighs, dreams,
Thoughts of all our tomorrows:
Sacred windstorms at the beginning of time:
A glorious sun and the rising dawn lights

*Pine cedar forest in Ontario (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

All promise was once ours,
Echoes of dreams once ours,
All beauty once ours and days never to be forgotten
Dawn lights and dusty twilights:
The songs of the wind’s rapture,
Fierce windstorm sighs, cries through branch and bough…

*Old maple tree in a mixed forest, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

*A pastoral field blazes with autumn colours of sumac and maple, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Oh! memory hold strong
Windsong: mystic soul of creation: the mystic fire, the holy flame;
Worlds ablaze
The long sacred journey into mystery
Beauty transfigured, wind’s message and haunting
Windstorm and mystical worlds, sanctuary far away
All passion spent.

*Marsh at sunset, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press(Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

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