My Writing Retreat in Niagara-on-the-Lake

July 8, 2018July 8, 2018 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

Ravine Vineyard Estate Winery

When I’m not teaching writing at UofT in Toronto, I’m often writing at home. And if I’m not writing at home, I’m often traveling to where I will write. You get the picture: I’m a writer. My website mantra reads: “I live to write; I write to live.”

I’m always looking for great places to write, to synthesize observations and experiences for an article or to plot my next novel. As writers, we are constantly studying the nature of our surroundings, how people interact, what they do, how events affect us and more. Writing is as much about experiencing life as writing about it. But we need both to flourish: something to write about and a place to write about it.

Noble Restaurant, Prince of Wales Hotel

Horse and carriage on King Street

Recently a good friend of mine lured me out of town on a trip to Niagara-on-the-Lake. She didn’t blink an eye when I grabbed my computer and happily accompanied her on our wonderful adventure. We started at the Prince of Wales Hotel, named in honour of the 1901 visit of the Duke and Duchess of York, who were later crowned King George V and Queen Mary.

Fred Gamula

We got there just in time for supper in the elegant and panoramic Noble restaurant. Of course, we had to order the divine “Grand Hotel Tasting Menu”, a four-course meal, paired with several fine wines. Sommelier Fred Gamula guided us through the “Grand Hotel Tasting Menu” of crisp romaine hearts, grilled chili marinated quail, pan seared trout and Grand Hotel Opera cake. Each course was paired with a wine that brought out the best in each; from an Inniskillin Chardonnay Reserve to a Flat Rock Twisted, to a Cave Spring Gamay and finally a Taylor Fladgate port. Gamula and I got into a diverting conversation about looking after the environment and water (I later gave him a copy of my book “Water Is…”).

Patio of Prince of Wales Hotel

Gamula grew up on a small fruit farm in Niagara-on-the-Lake and has seen some changes in the area due to development. Some not so good. We agreed that the trick is to embrace influx while preserving the very reason for that influx—to enjoy and preserve the wonderful country, vineyards and wineries in the area.

I found a wonderful place to write on the Churchill Room patio facing King Street, where the horses and carriages waited for customers. As the sun set, I drank my Campari and orange juice and wrote my novel to the cheerful sounds of birds, rustling trees and exploring people.

Nina and her favourite hippo

The next morning we wandered Queen Street before heading out to explore wine country. Curious about Reiner’s window display, I wandered into what I thought was a leather shop—expecting the usual fare such as purses, satchels, belts and the like; but it turned out to be a speciality leather ottoman store.

These weren’t ordinary ottomans—they were all animals! Hippos, bears, moose, elephants and pigs stood on stout legs, begging for a nice home to live in.

The store is named after leather crafter Reiner Henneveld who came to Canada in 1950 from Germany and created his first animal-shaped ottoman in the shape of a pig—after his pet pig, Wilbur. Reiner’s two sons have taken up the craft with a commitment to individual design and workmanship that includes hand sewing, cutting and stuffing and using the finest upholstery leather. I found them comfortable and very attractive.

Wayne Gretzky with his “99”

After lunch we visited old favourites and explored new vineyards and wineries. Wayne Gretzky Estates recently opened its winery and distillery on Old Stone Road. The estate is getting known for its No. 99 Red Cask Canadian Whisky; “the same soils that produce great grapes also grow grains that are used to produce whisky,” they write. The whisky is made in small batches from rye, malted rye and corn that has been individually mashed, fermented and distilled. After aging, the whisky is finished with red wine casks from the Wayne Gretzky winery.

General store of Ravine Vineyard Estate Winery

Pork chop, sea-salted bread and Sangria at the Ravine restaurant

The Ravine Vineyard Estate Winery is an old haunt for its charming and diversely stocked general store and its rustic-style restaurant with imaginative and surprising menus. Both inside and outside seating offer vistas of undulating countryside and the sounds of a working vineyard. Another great place to write!

A sparrow sings his heart out on his very own house in Ravine vineyard

Free range chickens roam the vineyard at Ravine

I’m half-inclined to shift over to writing a murder-mystery series about a young recent George Brown graduate who comes to Niagara-on-the-Lake to work as a Sommelier in one of the hotels—only to find intrigue and—of course—a murder to solve. What do you think?…

Nina Munteanu is an ecologist, limnologist and internationally published author of award-nominated speculative novels, short stories and non-fiction. 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.

On Being a Canadian Writer in the Age of Water

July 1, 2018March 30, 2020 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

“Canada is the only country in the world that knows how to live without an identity.”—Marshal McLuhan

Nina “reading” in Granby, Quebec

I was born some sixty+ years ago, in the small town of Granby in the Eastern Townships to German-Romanian parents. Besides its zoo—which my brother, sister and I used to visit to collect bottles for a finder’s fee at the local treat shop—the town had no particular features. It typified French-Canada of that era. So did I. I went to school in Quebec then migrated across to the west coast to practice and teach limnology. Given that Canada holds at any one time a fifth of the Earth’s freshwater, that also made sense.

Canada is a vast country with a climate and environment that spans from the boreal forests of the Canadian Shield, muskegs of northern BC, and tundras of the Arctic Circle to the grasslands of the Prairies and southern woodlands of Ontario and Quebec. Canada’s environment is vast and diverse. Like its people.

Ecologist vs Nationalist

Ecology is the study of “home” (oikos means ‘home’ in Greek). Ecology studies the relationships that make one’s home functional. It is, in my opinion, the most holistic and natural way to assess where we live. My home is currently Toronto, Ontario, Canada and ultimately the planet Earth.

The Eastern Townships in autumn are a cornucopia of festive colours.

Growing up in the Eastern Townships of Quebec, I’d always felt an abiding sense of belonging and I resonated with Canada’s national symbols—mostly based on Nature and found on our currency, our flag, and various sovereign images: the loon, the beaver, the maple tree, our mountains and lakes and boreal forests. Why not? Canadians are custodians of a quarter of the world’s wetlands, longest river systems and most expansive lakes. Most of us recognize this; many of us live, play and work in or near these natural environments.

I have long considered myself a global citizen with no political ties. I saw my country through the lens of an ecologist—I assessed my community and my surroundings in terms of ecosystems that supported all life, not just humanity. Was a community looking after its trees? Was my family recycling? Was a corporation using ‘green’ technology? Was a municipality daylighting its streams and recognizing important riparian zones? I joined environmental movements when I was a teenager. I shifted my studies from art to science because I wanted to make a difference in how we treated our environment. After university, I joined an environmental consulting firm, hoping to educate corporations and individuals as environmental stewards. I brought that philosophy into a teaching career and began writing eco-fiction, science fiction and essays to help promote an awareness and a connection with our natural world. My hope was to illuminate how important Nature and water is to our planet and to our own well-being through an understanding of ecology and how everything is interconnected.

Nina kayaking Desolation Sound in British Columbia

When I think of Canada, I think of my “home”, where I live; my community and my environment. I have traveled the world and I feel a strong sense of “home” and belonging every time I return. Canada is my home. I was born and grew up in Quebec. I lived in British Columbia, Ontario, and Nova Scotia; each of these places engendered a feeling of “home”.

The Dory Shop in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia

I think that part of being a Canadian is related to this sense of belonging (and pride) in a country that is not tied to some core political identity or melting-pot mainstream.

Historian and writer Charlotte Gray wrote:

“we live in a country that has a weak national culture and strong regional identities …Two brands of psychological glue bind Canada together: political culture and love of landscape…[in] a loose federation perched on a magnificent and inhospitable landscape—[we are] a nation that sees survival as a collective enterprise.”—Charlotte Gray

Marsh near Barkerville, BC (photo by Nina Munteanu)

Canada as Postnational State

In October 2015, Canada’s Prime Minister Justin Trudeau told the New York Times that Canada may be the “first postnational state,” adding that “there is no core identity, no mainstream in Canada.” This is largely because Canadians, writes Charles Forman in the Guardian, are “philosophically predisposed to an openness that others find bewildering, even reckless.”

To anyone but a Canadian, Trudeau’s remark would rankle, particularly in a time when many western countries are fearfully and angrily turning against immigration through nativism and exclusionary narratives. A time when the United States elected an authoritarian intent on making “America great again” by building walls. A time when populist right-wing political parties hostile to diversity are gaining momentum in other parts of the world. “Canada’s almost cheerful commitment to inclusion might at first appear almost naive,” writes Forman. It isn’t, he adds. There are practical reasons for keeping our doors open.

We are who we are because of what we are: a vast country the size of Europe. A country dominated by boreal forest, a vital and diverse wilderness that helps maintain the well-being of our entire planet. A land that encompasses over a fifth of the freshwater in the world, and a quarter of the world’s wetlands. Canadians are ultimately the world’s Natural stewards. That is who and what we are.

Eramosa River, Ontario (photo by Nina Munteanu)

According to Forman, postnationalism frames how “to understand our ongoing experiment in filling a vast yet unified geographic space with the diversity of the world” and a “half-century old intellectual project, born of the country’s awakening from colonial slumber.” As the first Europeans arrived in North America, the Indigenous people welcomed them, taught them how to survive and thrive amid multiple identities and allegiances, writes Forman. “That welcome was often betrayed, particularly in the 19th and 20th centuries, when settlers did profound harm to Indigenous people.” But, says Forman, if the imbalance remains, so does the influence: a model of another way of belonging. One I think many Canadians are embracing. We are learning from the natural wisdom of our Indigenous peoples. Even our fiction reflects how we value our environment and embrace diversity. “Diversity fuels, not undermines, prosperity,” writes Forman.

As efforts are made to reconcile the previous wrongs to Indigenous peoples within Canada and as empowering stories about environment are created and shared, Canada carries on the open and welcoming nature of our Indigenous peoples in encouraging immigration. In 2016, the same year the American government announced a ban on refugees, Canada took in 300,000 immigrants, which included 48,000 refuges. Canada encourages citizenship and around 85% of permanent residents typically become citizens. Greater Toronto is currently the most diverse city in the world; half of its residents were born outside the country. Vancouver, Calgary, Ottawa and Montreal are not far behind.

Mom and son explore BC wilderness

Canadian author and visionary Marshal McLuhan wrote in 1963 that, “Canada is the only country in the world that knows how to live without an identity.” This is an incredible accomplishment, particularly given our own colonial history and the current jingoistic influence of the behemoth south of us.

Writer and essayist Ralston Saul suggests that Canada has taken to heart the Indigenous concept of ‘welcome’ to provide,

“Space for multiple identities and multiple loyalties…[based on] an idea of belonging which is comfortable with contradictions.”

Of this Forman writes: “According to poet and scholar BW Powe, McLuhan saw in Canada the raw materials for a dynamic new conception of nationhood, one unshackled from the state’s ‘demarcated borderlines and walls, its connection to blood and soil,’ its obsession with ‘cohesion based on a melting pot, on nativist fervor, the idea of the promised land’. Instead, the weakness of the established Canadian identity encouraged a plurality of them—not to mention a healthy flexibility and receptivity to change. Once Canada moved away from privileging denizens of the former empire to practicing multiculturalism, it could become a place where ‘many faiths and histories and visions would co-exist.”

And that’s exactly what is happening. We are not a “melting pot” stew of mashed up cultures absorbed into a greater homogeneity of nationalism, no longer recognizable for their unique qualities. Canada isn’t trying to “make Canada great again.”

Canada is a true multi-cultural nation that celebrates its diversity: the wholes that make up the wholes.

Confident and comfortable with our ‘incomplete identity’—recognizing it for what it is—is according to Forman, “a positive, a spur to move forward without spilling blood, to keep thinking and evolving—perhaps, in the end, simply to respond to newness without fear.”

This resonates with me as an ecologist. What I envision is a Canada transcending the political to embrace the environment that both defines us and provides us with our very lives; a view that knows no boundaries, and recognizes the importance of diversity, relationship and inclusion, interaction, movement, and discovery.

So, am I proud of Canada? Definitely. We have much to be proud of. Canada is the 8^th highest ranking nation in the Human Development Index. Canada ranks among the highest in international measurements of government transparency, civil liberties, quality of life, economic freedom, and education. It stands among the world’s most educated countries—ranking first worldwide in the number of adults having tertiary education with 51% of adults holding at least an undergraduate college or university degree. With two official languages, Canada practices an open cultural pluralism toward creating a cultural mosaic of racial, religious and cultural practices. Canada’s symbols are influenced by natural, historical and Aboriginal sources. Prominent symbols include the maple leaf, the beaver, Canada Goose, Common Loon, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, the polar bear, the totem pole, and Inuksuk.

We are a northern country with a healthy awareness of our environment—our weather, climate and natural world. This awareness—particularly of climate change—is more and more being reflected in our literature—from Margaret Atwood’s “Maddaddam” trilogy and Kim Stanley Robinson’s “2041” to my short story collection “Natural Selection” and non-fiction book “Water Is…” .

Canadians are writing more eco-fiction, climate fiction, and fiction in which environment somehow plays a key role.

Water has become one of those key players: I recently was editor of the Reality Skimming Press anthology “Water”, a collection of six speculative Canadian stories that optimistically explore near-future scenarios with water as principle agent.

My short story “The Way of Water” is a near-future vision of Canada that explores the nuances of corporate and government corruption and deceit together with resource warfare.

First published as a bilingual print book by Mincione Edizioni (Rome) (“La natura dell’acqua”), the short story also appears in several anthologies including Exile Editions “Cli Fi: Canadian Tales of Climate Change” and “Future Fiction: New Dimensions in International Science Fiction“. My upcoming “A Diary in the Age of Water” continues the story.

Canadian writer and good friend Claudiu Murgan recently released his book “Water Entanglement“, which also addresses a near-future Canada premise in which water plays a major role.

In a recent interview with Mary Woodbury on Eco-Fiction, I reflected on a trend over the years that I noticed in the science fiction writing course I teach at George Brown College: “It’s a workshop-style course I teach and students are encouraged to bring in their current work in progress. More and more students are bringing in a WIP with strong ecological overtones. I’d say the percentage now is over 70%. This is definitely coming from the students—it’s before I even open my mouth about ecology and eco-fiction—and what it suggests to me is that the welfare of our planet and our ecosystems is on many people’s minds and this is coming through in our most metaphoric writing: science fiction.”

It is healthy to celebrate our accomplishments while remembering where we came from and what we still need to accomplish. This provides direction and motivation.

Deer Lake, BC (photo by Nina Munteanu)

Canadians are custodians of a quarter of the world’s wetlands, longest river systems and most expansive lakes. Canada is all about water… And so are we.

We are water; what we do to water we do to ourselves.

Happy Canada Day!

References:

Dechene, Paul. 2015. “Sci-Fi Writers Discuss Climate Catastrophe: Nina Munteanu, Author of Darwin’s Paradox.” Prairie Dog, December 11, 2015.

Forman, Charles. 2017. “The Canada Experiment: Is this the World’s First Postnational Country?” The Guardian, January 4, 2017.

Gray, Charlotte. 2017. “Heroes and Symbols” The Globe and Mail.

Moorhouse, Emilie. 2018. “New ‘cli-fi’ anthology brings Canadian visions of future climate crisis.” National Observer, March 9, 2018.

Munteanu, Nina. 2016. “Crossing into the Ecotone to Write Meaningful Eco-Fiction.” In: NinaMunteanu.me, December 18, 2016.

Newman-Stille, Derek. 2017. “The Climate Around Eco-Fiction.” In: Speculating Canada, May 24, 2017.

Woodbury, Mary. 2016. “Part XV. Women Working in Nature and the Arts: Interview with Nina Munteanu, Ecologist and Author.” Eco-Fiction.com, October 31, 2016.

Nina Munteanu on the Credit River, Ontario (photo by Merridy Cox)

Nina Munteanu is an ecologist and internationally published author of award-nominated speculative novels, short stories and non-fiction. 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 recent book is the bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” (Mincione Edizioni, Rome). Her latest “Water Is…” is currently an Amazon Bestseller and NY Times ‘year in reading’ choice of Margaret Atwood.

Limestone Genre Expo—May 2018

June 24, 2018March 30, 2020 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

2018 was the fourth year for Limestone Genre Expo, Kingston’s only genre writing festival. I’ve been to the expo each year from its inaugural festival in 2015. The festival gets its name from the city’s moniker, based on the many heritage buildings constructed there using the local limestone.

In 2016 I was delighted to be the science fiction guest of honour. In 2017, the expo was held at the Saint Lawrence College campus.

This year, the expo was held at the Holiday Inn, right on the waterfront and literally a staggering distance from the Merchant Tap House, one of the greatest pubs and eateries of the town.

Merchant Tap House, Kingston (photo by Nina Munteanu)

As before, the festival covered several of the major genres such as fantasy, science fiction, horror, romance and mystery, with representation by well-known authors in each. Organizers offered a triple track program from 10 am to 5 pm that included panels, informative workshops, readings, book launches, and novel pitch sessions with Bundoran Press.

Liz Strange and programming organizers had me in several panels throughout the two-day expo.

Panels I participated in and in some cases moderated included:

“Mental Health Representation in Fiction: More than Villains” with Michael Slade, Therese Greenwood, Ada Hoffmann, Matt Moore and Madona Skaff. I really enjoyed this panel discussion that explored our evolving perception and representation of mental health in story and in our real lives.

Matt Moore, Nina Munteanu, Madona Skaff, Michael Slade, Theresa Greenwood (photo by Marlene Smith)

“Why Do We Love a Good Whodunit?” with Michael Slade, M. H. Callway, Katherine Prairie, Jim Napier, Melissa Yi, and Rosemary McCracken. The panel and I had fun with this discussion as bizarre real-life stories were thrown into this mix.

Katherine Prairie, Michael Slade, Melissa Yi, M.H. Callway, Rosemary McCracken, Nina Munteanu

“What Makes a Great Hero?” with Kate Heartfield, Tobin Elliott, Theresa Greenwood, Kris Jacen, Donna Warner, and Douglas Smith. The panel debated what makes a hero, then anti-hero, then sad and terrible hero, then non-hero…and ultimately to the journey of our at times miserable but great hero.

Douglas Smith, Theresa Greenwood, Nina Munteanu, Donna Warner, Tobin Elliott, Kate Heartfield

“Dystopian Fiction: How to write when the world is falling apart” with Una Verdandi, Robin Timmerman, Brad Baker, Tapanga Koe, Hayden Trenholm and Ursula Pflug. In this rather passionate discussion, we debated the state and shape of dystopia in both the real world and the fiction world and how they inevitably bleed together for the writer.

Nina signs “The Last Summoner” for colleague and reader Agnes

“Women of Science Fiction” with Hayden Trenholm, Laura Baumbach, Ada Hoffmann, Tanya Huff, Tapanaga Koe, and Nancy Baker. Hayden emerged amid his female colleagues to astutely discuss the reason we are still discussing this topic.

I also sold a number of books, including Water Is… (a Margaret Atwood favourite), my journal and fiction writing guidebooks (The Journal Writer and The Fiction Writer), Reality Skimming’s Water Anthology, for which I was editor, and The Last Summoner.

authors Agnes Jankiewicz and Nina Munteanu

One of the key charms of this small venue is that it still provides an intimate setting for great networking. I had a chance to meet many of my old friends and to make new ones. Thanks to Liz, Marlene and wonderful volunteers for another great writing festival!

Places to Write: My Secret Places at The University of Toronto

May 23, 2018June 5, 2018 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

In my writing guidebook The Journal Writer: Finding Your Voice I write a section on finding the right time and place to write. I call them “sacred”, because that’s what they are. Without them, we struggle to write. In Chapter Two of The Journal Writer I write about the need for a sacred place in journal writing, particularly. The advice is equally important to any form of writing.

Finding the perfect place(s) to write … is important to creating meaningful entries. Journal writing is a reflective activity that requires the right environment for you. The best environment is a quiet one with no interruptions and where you are alone. A reflective environment will let you relax, find a connection with yourself and your feelings. You need a place where you can relax and not worry about someone barging in or other things distracting you from your thoughts. You should also feel physically comfortable and the place should meet your time requirements.

Because the suitability of a place can change with the time of day, learn the rhythms that affect the place you wish to write in. For example, the kitchen may be the centre of activity during the day but an oasis of quietude during the evening. Similarly, learn what kind of environment stimulates and nurtures your writing. Does music help or do you need complete quiet? Do you respond to nature’s soft breezes and sounds or do you prefer to surround yourself with the anonymous murmur of a crowded café for company?

Places that work for me include the local coffee shop, a park near my house, a library or other quiet place where I can enjoy uninterrupted anonymity. Where you write may reflect what you’re writing and vice versa. To some extent, you are environment and environment is you. You might try a few places first and see what happens to the content of your entries. Entries you make while sitting under an apple tree in the breeze hearing the birds singing may differ from entries you make while sitting in your living room by the crackling fireplace with music playing or sitting at your desk in your bedroom in total silence or in a crowded café surrounded by cheerful bustle. I give more details on how to feed the muse in Chapter 4.

Sitting in Krave’s outside patio

Some of my favourite places to write are indie cafés that express unique character and rich ambience. Amid the desultory chatter and laughter of people and sipping my flat white, I find myself deep in writing. These days you can most likely find me somewhere on the University of Toronto campus where I teach engineering students, social science students, and health science students how to write.

It’s been four years since I came to UofT and I still feel a glow every time I walk through campus. Whether it’s past a century-old stone building, beneath a canopied archway of chestnuts, into a well-treed enclave, or through a high-ceilinged glass building; I am both home and on an adventure.

Convocation Hall, UofT

UofT is a place of learning—erudite, splendid, lofty yet humble—and beautifully epitomizing “new embracing old”. When new embraces old, we get magic. Wizard-magic. Harry Potter kind of magic. The kind of magic that only someone who is open, faithful, and confident can wield. This is ancient magic. The magic that lurks like Reznikoff’s ghost in the ancient halls of University College, or the magic currently wielded at 1 Spadina. A magic borne of wisdom, lore, and story.

Established in 1827, the University of Toronto is snugly located in the centre of downtown Toronto; yet, it’s not so much a part of the city as the city is a part of it. UofT’s campus probes into the city’s infrastructure like a creative amoeba: interacting, absorbing and expressing. The UofT downtown campus sprawls dozens of blocks in all directions; embedding itself in the city with a blend of century-old buildings and avant-garde modern chic. It’s not so much re-inventing itself at every turn as morphing and co-evolving with the city.

Clock tower, UofT

The UofT campus represents for me the very best the city—any city—has to offer: a vibrant, well-connected place of learning and activity, supported by original and tasteful landscape architecture: healthy trees and parkland full of songbirds, tasteful new and old architecture and alluring courtyards and doorways that beckon my creative soul. The UofT campus provides a myriad of possibilities and historic depth for the adventurous soul. Did you know, for instance, that Canada’s first electric computer was installed at UofT? Or that UofT is haunted? Or that much of UofT’s architecture was inspired by structures at Oxford and Cambridge? Or that an old nuclear accelerator sits fallow in the McLennan Physical Labs building?

My creative soul appreciates UofT’s integration of nature into its architecture and grounds. Its natural enclaves provide ideal settings for quiet contemplation and reflection. They’ve become my “secret places,” destinations along my journeys across campus to my various writing appointments. Places where I can sit, reflect and write. Here are just a few:

Terrence Donnelly’s Bamboo Garden in Terrence Donnelly Centre:

Steps leading up past bamboo garden of Terrence Donnelly Centre

The Terrence Donnelly Centre for Cellular & Biomolecular Research (CCBR) is where some of the coolest research and discoveries in biomolecular and cellular research are being made. Benjamin Blencowe and his team’s recent uncovering a protein’s sweeping influence on autism last December using introverted mice, for instance. Named after the philanthropist Terrence J. Donnelly, the centre was the vision of UofT Professors Cecil Yip and James Friesen.

View of garden resting area from above

In the 1990s they foresaw that new genomic technologies would open-up progress in biomedical research in a time when there was no human genome sequence or stem cell technologies and DNA sequencing was slow and inexpensive. Yip and Friesen envisioned a collaborative and interdisciplinary research facility that, when it opened in 2005, brought together over 500 specialists—biologists, computer scientists, physicians, pharmacists and engineers—to advance the university’s groundbreaking research in molecular biology.

View of Rosebrugh wall from the garden

The centre is located on what was previously Taddle Creek Road. The CCBR building—which from College Street resembles two colourful stacked cubes—is set back by a gradually sloping plaza with granite benches and groves of white paper birch. The building and plaza are flanked by several historic buildings (80-year old Fitzgerald Medical Building to the east; the 1919 Rosebrugh Institute of Biomaterials and 100-year old Lassonde Mining building to the west; and the Medical Sciences Building to the north).

The bamboo garden in Donnelly’s spacious atrium is meditative and calming; a lush forest of bamboo and shrubs amidst wooden floors, benches and steps. Created by landscape architect Diana Gerrard, the garden offers several “picnic” sites of wooden platforms and benches, which I learned had come from the ash, tulip and cherry trees that had occupied the original lane way.

Entranceway with bamboo garden of Terrence Donnelly Centre

Upon entering the complex from College Street, the granite plaza gives way to white terrazzo flooring in an expansive multi-story atrium. The top lit glass-ceilinged atrium connects the adjacent heritage Rosebrugh building to the CCBR in a counterpoint of techno-minimalism with Romanesque tradition. As I walk up the shallow wide steps lined by pillars that reach skyward, the tall bamboo forest to my left beckons. I’ve had many lunches there. I also spend many moments sitting there with a book, reading or just daydreaming beneath a texture of greens.

Breezeway of Knox College Quad:

Knox College breezeway in winter

I usually enter the perpendicular gothic style building from St. George Street; though, you can also come in via Kings College Circle, past the chapel—known for its Hellmuth Wolff organ. Once I pass through the heavy doors of the St. George entrance, I enter a dark foyer and instantly feel like I’m in a church. The chapel is on the other side, yet the deep quiet and surrounding dark wood of the floors, walls and stairways to the right and left of me, enclose me with a sense of sacred holiness. I walk the echoing foyer to the stained-glass doorway of the breezeway ahead. As I open the glass door, the complex scent of tulips and pine greets me with the warm breeze. I have entered another magic place.

The gothic archway that connects the Knox College Quad is an open breezeway that looks out onto the interior gardens of the quad. Tables and chairs along each side provide a peaceful place to read and write with a quiet view of the outside courtyard of flowers, shrubs, trees and benches. Hanging vines provide additional greenery in the archway.

Knox College breezeway through courtyard

Whenever I come here, the hustle and bustle of the city just fades away. Busy St. George Street is nearby; yet I don’t feel its influence within this quiet haven, where the soft sounds of Nature embrace me with their songs and stories. I often come here to read and write. I listen to the birds and other natural sounds, letting them lull me into a meditative quietude of bliss. Life slows to a philosopher’s pace and my creative muse awakens. Sometimes I bring one of my indulgences—a poutine from one of the chip trucks on St. George—and feast in my secret place as Nature’s melodies feed my soul. On a warm day, the breezeway also provides a cool respite.

The Laidlaw Quadrangle behind University College

West gate into University College courtyard

When I first discovered this hidden quadrangle, I felt goosebumps of pure magic course through me. My discovery visit was through the west arched entranceway off the west green, past Bissell House. I passed the gateway into the Courtyard Colonnade, and faced a sunken courtyard shaded by large ironwood and maple trees and surrounded by gothic brick and stone. I’d entered an enchanting world of quiet reflection.

A paved walkway—supported by retaining walls and planted with flowering shrubs—runs on three sides of the quadrangle. The walkway broadens into a terrace to the north, forming an extension of the new Library colonnade. Mature maple and ironwood trees overhang the cloisters and the walkway.

West colonnade of quadrangle

Designed by Canadian landscape architect Michael Hough, the quadrangle evokes the courtyards of medieval monasteries and old English universities. Built in 1964, when the Laidlaw wing (and library) separated the college from back campus, Hough’s design translates the essential feature of a monastery or college courtyard—access from inside the building to a covered walk around an open centre—from architecture to landscape.

View of courtyard (to left) from west cloister of University College

I’ve since discovered other ways to enter and leave the quadrangle, each one presenting a new perspective to this peaceful place. Each time I come here, I feel my soul sigh with joy. Birds sing the poetry of Nature. Leaves rustle as the wind plays on them. When I’m here, I feel at peace in the city.

UofT Faculty Club

UofT Faculty Club: Every journey requires repast—a place to relax, eat and drink—and my feet naturally direct me to one of my new favourite haunts: the UofT Faculty Club. Located close to the hub of the campus, on Willcocks Street just east of Spadina, the club is open to members who include faculty, staff, graduate alumni and their guests. I enter the 1896 heritage building, built in a Georgian Revival-style, and passed the elegant first floor lounge to the pub below. The pub welcomes me with excellent food, drink and a relaxing ambience. Bathed in rich tones of wood and comfortable chairs and warmed by a cozy fireplace, it reminds me of a Dorset pub I’d visited years ago; full of colourful characters and a well-stocked bar.

Windows of University College

I feel both at home and like a traveler. Like I’d walked into history with modern comfort. I order the beet salad from my friendly waitress; it provides a refreshing and attractive light meal for a mid-day travelling writer.

Pictures by Nina Munteanu

What Did You Do Before You Were Famous…?

April 29, 2018March 31, 2020 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

Vancouver Central Library (photo by Nina Munteanu)

So, you’re a famous author now…

You’ve published several books and they sold more than a dozen copies each. In fact, a few have been translated and are in second printings. You’ve received some recognition and awards and a bazillion nominations. You’ve landed some speaking engagements with writing and reader groups and a movie producer is soliciting a treatment from you. You have a following…Fans who “stalk” you at the writer conventions you participate in. Fans who want to co-write the sequel to your current bestseller with you, because they understand your universe—and your characters—so well. You discover that some fans have gone ahead and written fan-fic about your main character and universe on the Internet—a sign of adoration. Really.

But you weren’t always famous…

Neither was John Steinbeck, Ursula Le Guin, J.D. Salinger, Harper Lee or J.K. Rowling…

When did the transition occur for them? It’s not that easy to peg and it isn’t that obvious. This is partly because, it depends on each writer’s own criteria for success and fame. Particularly given that many writers aren’t, in fact, seeking fame, per se.

However, what every career writer wants, which often comes alongside fame is this: autonomy and the ability to write for a living without having to sneak it in at midnight after you’re finished your “real” job.

No one is “born” a writer; most of us start out doing something else to make a living. In the meantime, we work hard on what we love and what feeds our souls and our passion for storytelling. We assiduously write on stolen time and submit queries and letters. We do research and marketing. We write drafts, do revisions, attend classes and read books. All hoping to eventually write full time.

Let’s look at the humble roots of some famed writers and what key moment signified their move into the light of career novelist:

J.K. Rowling was an unemployed single mother on public assistance when she wrote the first book. The book was rejected by over a dozen publishers before a small British publisher, Bloomsbury, said yes.

John Steinbeck worked through many odd jobs before earning enough to work as a full time writer. His day jobs included: apprentice painter, fruit picker, estate caretaker and Madison Square Garden construction worker. He also ran a fish hatchery in Lake Tahoe and did guided tours there.

Margaret Atwood worked in a coffee shop. She says her first job experience was NOT ideal: She had to deal with a difficult cash register, a rude ex-boyfriend who would come by just to stare at her and barely tip, and fellow employees who were definitely not friendship material.

Before his writing career blossomed, William Faulkner worked for the postal service, as postmaster at the University of Mississippi. In his resignation note, he summarized the struggle of art and commerce faced by most authors: “As long as I live under the capitalist system I expect to have my life influenced by the demands of moneyed people. But I will be damned if I propose to be at the beck and call of every itinerant scoundrel who has two cents to invest in a postage stamp. This, sir, is my resignation.”

In a 1953 interview, J.D. Salinger shared that he had served as entertainment director on the HMS Kungsholm, a Swedish luxury liner. He drew on the experience for his short story “Teddy”, which takes place on a liner.

Ursula Le Guin struggled initially to be published in the mainstream fiction world, but her first three novels, Rocannon’s World, Planet of Exile and City of Illusions, put her on the sci-fi map.

An accomplished tenor, James Joyce made money singing for his supper before his work was published.

Harper Lee worked as a reservation clerk for Eastern Air Lines for several years, writing stories in her spare time. A windfall came when a friend offered her a Chirsmas gift of one year’s wages and one year off to write whatever she pleased; she wrote the first draft of “To Kill a Mockingbird”.

Stephen King was a janitor for a high school as he struggled to get his fiction published. His time wheeling the cart through the halls inspired him to write the opening girl’s locker room scene in “Carrie”, his breakout novel.

Kurt Vonnegut managed Americas first Saab dealership in Cape Cod during the late 1950s, a job he joked about in a 2004 essay, “I now believe my failure as a dealer … explains what would otherwise remain a deep mystery: why the Swedes have never given me a Nobel prize for literature.”

When Virginia Woolf’s brilliant novels failed to find a publisher, she and her husband Leonard bought a printing press and set up their own publishing compay Hogarth Press in their living room. They published Woolf’s masterful novels, such as Orlando and To The Lighthouse, as well as T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land, among other classics of the era.

T.S. Eliot worked as a clerk for Lloyds Bank of London. During that time, he composed “The Waste Land”.

Franz Kafka served as the Chief Legal Secretary of the Workmen’s Accident Insurance Institute. Obviously.

Douglas Adams was a bodyguard. Even published authors often have to work other jobs to make ends meet, and The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy author Douglas Adams was no exception: At one point, he served as a bodyguard for a wealthy Arabian family while he wrote for radio shows and Monty Python. Good writers are good multitaskers!

James A. Michener was a teacher before writing only at age 40. He Michener is notable more for his output than his age. The Tales of the South Pacific author (whose Pulitzer Prize-winning book would later be adapted into a Broadway musical) wrote a staggering 40 books after the age of 40—nearly a book a year—after spending much of his life as a teacher.

Before he wrote 1984, George Orwell served as an officer of the Indian Imperial Police in Burma, where he was known for his “sense of utter fairness.”

Nina Munteanu Interviewed on Splintered Universe Trilogy

March 11, 2018February 5, 2024 / thealiennextdoor / 1 Comment

I was recently interviewed by writer Simon Rose on my space detective thriller trilogy Splintered Universe, now available in all three formats: print, ebook, and audiobook.

Below is the interview:

My guest today is Nina Munteanu, author of science fiction and fantasy novels, non-fiction books and essays on writing and science. Her latest in a series of prolific works is the recent completion of the audiobook of her science fiction space-thriller trilogy, Splintered Universe.

Can you tell us a little about the Splintered Universe Trilogy?

Book 1 of Splintered Universe

The Splintered Universe Trilogy is a detective mystery-thriller that explores metaphysical and existential questions through a high-test space adventure. The three books include Outer Diverse, Inner Diverse and Metaverse.

The main character Rhea Hawke is a Galactic Guardian and the only human in an otherwise alien race of 7-foot tall purple-skinned Eosians—who she actually despises (for reasons you find out later). She’s a loner and a misfit in an elite police force tasked with keeping order in the galaxy; Rhea’s unruly tactics grate on them—particularly her boss. In Outer Diverse, Rhea investigates the genocide of an entire spiritual sect; but instead she kills her only lead.

Following the scent of Glitter Dust, Rhea connects the massacre to the murders of several prominent galactic citizens and finally to the deadly Vos, who invaded our galaxy, then disappeared. She realizes that the Vos have quietly returned, infiltrating every aspect of the civilized world—with dark menace in mind. But no one believes her—particularly her boss, who fires her instead for incompetence: badge, Great Coat and MEC weapon confiscated and her sentient ship Benny put in storage. Compelled by an urgency she herself doesn’t understand, she goes rogue and enlists the aid of surprising allies to save the galaxy.

You mention that Splintered Universe explores issues of existentialism and metaphysics. Can you speak to them?

Book 2 of Splintered Universe

The Splintered Universe Trilogy explores the fractal fabric of paradox, where the flow of particle, energy, wave and intention embrace: black holes, quasars, neutrinos, intuition, déjà vu, clairvoyance, altruism, faith…

The prediction by Gnostic priest Raphael Martinez (The coming of the Suntelia Aeon will be signified by the joining of twin souls) weaves many disparate threads of existence to Atlantis and the Eosian alien race (who resemble the Bible’s Nephilim), the sacred vishna tree (part of L’Ordre de l’Arbre Sacré in Quebec) and the precious mythical metal Orichalcum used by the Eosians. The prediction ties to an ancient knowledge that describes our very existence through déjà vu, synchronicity, sacred geometry, phi and the golden mean and the notion that “diverses” are mirror universes linked through dreams. The key is Rhea herself—who discovers that she is not who or what she thinks.

You’re a bit known for your world building. Tell us a little about that in this trilogy.

Book 3 of Splintered Universe

I’m an ecologist, so world building with realistic ecosystems is more than fun for me. I enjoy doing the research to create realistic and meaningful worlds. I consulted authorities in the areas of space exploration and habitable zones, AI, biotechnology, sleep biology, neuroscience, and ecology to design alien worlds and systems, populated with extremophiles.

In her pursuit of justice, Rhea travels to all parts of the galaxy and encounters some very strange worlds. In Book 1, Rhea pursues dust trafficker V’mer to the sulphurous AI-run water planet (Mar Delena), located inside the hole of the gaseous “donut” of Fomalhaut; it’s always raining acid. That’s where Book 1 starts: acid rain painfully spattering Rhea’s face as she lies injured and waiting to be dusted (with a lethal dose) by V’mer, surrounded by the oily fur-covered rodent-like Delenians—all dust addicts.

Rhea almost drowns in a high-speed skipboat chase of the murderer of a spiritual sect on the icy moon, Uma 1, (orbiting 47 Uma b of 47 Ursae Majoris b). The moon is mostly ocean beneath a thick layer of ice with thermal vents that provide the inhabitants—a spiritual sect called the Schiss—a home.

47 Uma a (also called Horus) was colonized in ancient times by the Khonsus, a raptor-like biped race with mind-probing capability. It is also the home of the ancient migrating trees, ammuts (giant flying insects), and the weeping mountains with their narcotic boiling seas used by the giant apophus to attack and set its millions of babies to devour Rhea in Book 1.

Virgil 9 is a tidally locked moon that orbits the gas giant 70 Virginis b; day and night last for weeks while water swings the extreme from deluge flood to desert conditions. In Virgil City, Rhea does commerce with information broker Shlsh Shle She, a moody amoeba-like photosynthetic Ngu who is just a pseudopod of a larger hive-entity.

Sekmet is a bog planet, where the raw materials of dust are harvested by the Rill, bulbous short smelly bog creatures with tube eyes, webbed limbs and large sexual organs; and who Rhea pretty much wipes out with her MEC weapon. Sekmet is also the location of a galactic penal colony (Hades) where Rhea is sent in Book 2. When she tries to escape, she must contend with other native creatures of Sekmet such as the giant crocodile-like sobeks and the terrifying kepry—giant flying crustaceans.

In Book 3, Rhea returns to Earth, transformed by Eosian settlers from its former polluted state dominated by urban concrete cities to an entirely natural world, now unpolluted and featuring the ancient purple vishna tree and a crystal symbiotic organic technology.

Rhea on Iota Hor-2

Worlds always have cool bling associated with them. What technologies or devices are featured in Splintered Universe?

I created an entire fleet of ships, all run on various technologies, from crystals, to wave-energy to dreams. That was fun to create. Two main ship builders include: Zeta Corp from Earth and Tangent Shipping run by the Fauche from Sigma Draconis. Rhea’s own ship, Benny, is an old ray class Fauche-built corvette, a two-man hybrid organic/nano-tech vehicle with folding wings and fuel scoops (so it can mine energy fuel from gas giants). Benny is a sentient ship that jacks the particle-stream and with whom Rhea has an interesting relationship. The ship serves essentially as butler, administrator, companion, and rescuer.

I also created a wide range of weapons, based on which alien race created them and for what purpose. Rhea gained some notoriety with her own created weapon, the MEC (short for Magnetic-Electro Concussion) pistol, a versatile wave-weapon that can target DNA signatures and do almost anything you want with a single sweep. Her proprietary MEC design is coveted by many groups—from shady crime syndicates such as Eclipse to her own Guardians.

I hear that the last audiobook (the third book) in the trilogy is finally out this January. That means that all three books of the Splintered Universe are now available in print, ebook and audiobook format. How does it feel to have a trilogy available in three complete formats?

It feels great! I’m so excited that readers can now obtain my trilogy in those different ways. It speaks to our different ways of consuming story. Some prefer to settle back by the fire or our favourite place to read with a “real” book; others like a mobile ebook so we can read while we travel and play; and then some like to lean back in the car and listen to a great story.

What was your experience with the narrator of the three books?

Dawn Harvey of “Dawn of Voice”

The experience was truly cosmic. When Iambik took on the books as audiobooks, they provided me with three voice artists to audition. I chose Dawn Harvey because I could visualize my main character through her voice, and given that the entire trilogy is told in the first person, the narrator’s voice had to be just right. Dawn’s voice is dark and sultry like coffee. It is sexy and irreverent with a hidden vulnerability and sensitivity that perfectly captured the main character Rhea Hawke. What I didn’t realize then was how well Harvey would represent the 30-odd other characters, mostly aliens—one who spoke through several mouths.

Audiobook of Outer Diverse

Working with Dawn was a pleasure. Dawn is a dedicated professional; she created unique and consistent voices for the book’s thirty-odd mostly alien characters. She ensured that each character had the appropriate vernacular, tone, accent and cadence. Then she did proofs and confirmed them with me. She also tackled the “alien” vocabulary; Rhea’s universe is full of strange and foreign terms (I have a comprehensive glossary at the back of each book). Dawn sent me a list to make sure she was pronouncing everything correctly—mostly made-up words. Dawn is a professional dedicated to her craft and her art. She literally breathed life into Rhea Hawke and all the other characters. The result is three audiobooks that will blow your socks off. I mean it. If you like audiobooks, get the first one and tell me different. When I first listened to Outer Diverse in the car on my way to Nova Scotia, I lost myself in her storytelling and forgot that I’d written it.

Where can people find the Splintered Universe Trilogy?

The best place, of course is Amazon (Amazon.ca or Amazon.com). All three formats are available through Amazon. The Audiobooks are currently available for free through Audible on Amazon. The books are also available through Barnes & Noble, Chapters/Indigo, Kobo, and many other book selling sites and brick and mortar stores.

When you’re not writing what do you do?

These days I’m mostly on the University of Toronto campus, teaching health science and engineering students how to write. When the students find out that I write science fiction, they get all excited. It’s a lot of fun. I also teach a science fiction writing coarse at George Brown College. When I’m not teaching or writing, I’m doing something in Nature, usually by the water. I’ve always had an interest in water. I studied and researched freshwater ecology as a limnologist for three decades. I’m a bit of an environmentalist these days, hoping to raise awareness and action for water. My latest novel—hopefully coming out next year—arose from my nature walks and my research in water. The story chronicles the lives of four generations of women and their relationship with water.

You can also listen to the Podcast interview of Dawn Harvey and Nina Munteanu by Casey Trowbridge of Talking Audiobooks on the process of their collaboration. Learn more about the process between writer and voice artist narrator:

The trilogy has received a fair bit of acclaim from reviewers and readers:

Martha’s Bookshelf
Speculating Canada
Dab of Darkness
Goodreads
Amazon
Amazon Canada

“Rhea Hawke is a Galactic Guardian, and I love to say her name. Her name alone let’s you know that there is a bad ass super hero of a woman on site. I can picture her boots, her great coat, and her side arms. I want to be her when I grow up. Obviously, you can tell I developed some hero worship for her by the end of this book. I really got wrapped up in this novel.”–Goodreads Review of Outer Diverse

“Ms. Harvey manages to enthuse the personality of the characters into each voice. The wise, gentle Ka has a soft, strong sound that reminds you of a wise old bird. Shlsh She She, a slippery, slimy creature has a slurry, garbled voice like a mouthful of mushy, wet food. Dawn’s reading conveys the loneliness in Rhea, the sexiness of Serge, the frustrated friendliness of Bas, and the faithful coziness of Benny. She is able to bring emphasis to the action or romance, weariness or fear elements of the story. The narration never takes over the story; but rather enhances it.”–Martha’s Bookshelf on Outer Diverse Audiobook

The excellent cover art for all three books is done by Toronto graphic artist and SF author Costi Gurgu (author of RecipeArium). People keep asking me who the model for the covers is; you’ll have to corner Costi at the next spec fiction con and ask him yourself.

On Censorship and Intellectual Freedom…

November 5, 2017October 30, 2017 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

“He that would make his own liberty secure, must guard even his enemy from opposition: for if he violates this duty he establishes a precedent that will reach to himself. ”— Thomas Paine, Dissertation On First Principles Of Government

What Is Intellectual Freedom?

Intellectual freedom is the right of every individual to both seek and receive information from all points of view without restriction. It provides for free access to all expressions of ideas through which any and all sides of a question, cause or movement may be explored.

Why Is Intellectual Freedom Important?

Intellectual freedom is the basis for our democratic system. We expect our people to be self-governors. But to do so responsibly, our citizenry must be well-informed. Libraries provide the ideas and information, in a variety of formats, to allow people to inform themselves.

Intellectual freedom encompasses the freedom to hold, receive and disseminate ideas.

What Is Censorship?

Censorship is the suppression of ideas and information that certain persons—individuals, groups or government officials—find objectionable or dangerous. It is no more complicated than someone saying, “Don’t let anyone read this book, or buy that magazine, or view that film, because I object to it! ” Censors try to use the power of the state to impose their view of what is truthful and appropriate, or offensive and objectionable, on everyone else. Censors pressure public institutions, like libraries, to suppress and remove from public access information they judge inappropriate or dangerous, so that no one else has the chance to read or view the material and make up their own minds about it. The censor wants to prejudge materials for everyone.

How Does Censorship Happen?

Censorship occurs when expressive materials, like books, magazines, films and videos, or works of art, are removed or kept from public access. Individuals and pressure groups identify materials to which they object. Sometimes they succeed in pressuring schools not to use them, libraries not to shelve them, book and video stores not to carry them, publishers not to publish them, or art galleries not to display them. Censorship also occurs when materials are restricted to particular audiences, based on their age or other characteristics.

Nina Munteanu is an ecologist and internationally published author of award-nominated speculative novels, short stories and non-fiction. 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.

Resonating with the Universe

August 24, 2017April 4, 2020 / thealiennextdoor / 1 Comment

Eramosa River, Guelph (photo by Nina Munteanu)

Does art imitate life or does life imitate art? Which came first? Story or reality? Do we dream about our past or of another reality? What is déjà vu…really? What came BEFORE the Big Bang? Did time even exist before we defined it?

The most frequent question asked of writers is “where do you get your ideas?” to which we often bumble some inadequate reply and evoke that indefinable abstruse term MUSE. But what is muse…really? Intuition? Divine inspiration?

In a quote from his autobiographical essay, Philip Pullman says, “It’s important to put it like that: not ‘I am a writer’ but rather ‘I write stories’. If you put the emphasis on yourself rather than your work, you’re in danger of thinking that you’re the most important thing. But you’re not. The story is what matters and you’re only the servant, and your job is to get it out on time and in good order.” But where do they come from, Philip?

In my 2012 historical fantasy “The Last Summoner” (Starfire), the young Baroness Vivianne discovered that she could alter History. Having travelled into the future (e.g., 2010 from 1410 Poland), she used hindsight to recreate a new path for humanity, one devoid of two world wars and the evils consequently unleashed. Vivianne traveled back in time and tried to subvert critical events (time/space nodes) involving Emperor Wilhelm II, Annie Oakley, Nikola Tesla and others. In each case, her interference failed to alter the event in the way she had hoped. In fact, while the details of History differed, the end result remained pretty much the same. For instance, it seemed that no matter what she did to prevent World War I, it happened anyway.

Vivianne discovered that she was unable to alter History the way she’d intended. She found to her dismay that every time she set out to alter a crucial event, quirky consequences ensued and events did not yield to her clever manipulations—as though History had an uncooperative conscience and a predetermined destiny to fulfill.

OK… That’s just me being the writer, subverting the protagonist with obstacles played out in ever-twisting plots and subplots. But, what if…

What if… History (as in any realized reality) is predetermined through its harmonic relationship with other realizable realities? Given that all mass and energy is governed and expressed through frequency, and given that in physics (and music) frequencies exist as multiples of some fundamental frequency; then does it not follow that threads of realizable realities, intertwined around a fundamental path (of history), would move inexorably toward a common destiny?

A recent article I ran across on a writer’s forum discussed how artists tend to mimic each other’s ideas, or come up with the same ideas at the same time. Aside from outright stealing (which happens a lot less than people think), multiple and independent formulation of same ideas is also more common than people think. And it’s increasing. Multiple-independent discoveries (and inventions) have increased in society a thousand-fold since the nineteenth century. Some followers of Jungian thought suggest that this is because the fabric of our society is acting more and more like a neural network, learning, interacting and sharing toward the achievement of a common zeitgeist.

What if… the whole of our society behaves like an autopoietic system, self-organized, adaptive, evolving and tapping into—and possibly influencing—a common super consciousness? One related to a fundamental frequency?

Ray Tomes of the Alexandria City Meeting in 1996 suggested that “the pattern of cycles found in every field of study on earth, in astronomy and also in music are all explained by a simple rule that says that a single initial frequency will generate harmonics and each of these will do the same.”

Why do galaxies and stars form where they do? Toss a handful of sand on a drum and then beat it (not at the centre); you will find that the sand moves to certain places and congregates into predetermined patterns. These are the nodes of the standing waves in the drum. The standing waves are electromagnetic waves (e.g., radio waves, light and x-rays etc). Consider the “predetermined” beauty of natural phenomena. Consider the Fibonacci numbers and the golden mean in nature. Consider fractals and the Mandelbrot Set, quantum entanglement, and Schumann Resonance. Consider synchronicity, autopoiesis and self-organization…

Einstein tells us that, “everything in life is vibration.” Schroedinger’s wave function describes us as vibrating waves.

The normal standing wave created in the Schumann Cavity (the cavity formed by the Earth’s conducting surface and the ionosphere) occurs at a wavelength equal to the circumference of the Earth, and at a base frequency (and highest intensity) of between 6-8 Hz (7.83 Hz). This is called Schumann Resonance Frequency, after the man who formulated it mathematically in 1954 (after Nikola Tesla described it in the late 1800s). Some call this basic frequency the Earth’s “heartbeat” or the “tuning fork” of the planet, suggesting that it generates natural healing properties when living things are entrained to its rhythm. It turns out that all biological systems resonate at this same frequency range. The electrical resonance of the Earth lies between 6-8 Hz. This coincides with alpha rhythms produced by the human brain during meditation, relaxation and creativity.

“Vibrations are dynamic things not unlike living things,” John Keely, researcher in harmonics, adds. “They are active and prolific in their dynamics as are their harmonic offspring. These discrete tones of the harmonics interact with each other… They will in a very natural way mix, merge and divide among themselves just like living cells.”

In “Outer Diverse”, the first book of “The Splintered Universe Trilogy” (Starfire), Galactic Guardian Rhea Hawke speaks with Ka, an alien mystic, about music, frequency and harmony. And something called “the music of the spheres”. Says Ka:

“…The particular tone of the planet’s song is dependent upon the ratio of its orbit, just like the relationship of a keynote to its octave. The cosmic beauty of the octave is that it divides wholeness into two audibly distinguishable parts, yet remains recognizable as the same musical note…We, of course, now know that ratios in frequencies of spectra of elements compare to intervals in a musical chord,” Ka went on, leaning forward on his massive feathered arms. “Given that a pitch of sound is analogous to the color of light, both being caused by the frequencies of their waves, we can characterize entire worlds based on these properties,” he ended, beak-mouth breaking into a beaming grin that showed his round little teeth. “It was your Kepler—a scientist I believe—who suggested that when planets formed angles equivalent to particular harmonic ratios, a resonance was created both in the archetypal ‘Earth soul’ and in the souls of individuals born under those configurations…He called it a celestial imprint,” Ka continued, now leaning forward with his cup in both hands, “and said that in the vital power of the human being, ignited at birth, that remembered image glows. That geometric-harmonic imprint is the music that impels each listener to dance … from the particle to the cosmic. Your own heart finds its shifting harmony between excessive order and complete randomness, encompassing complex variability—a symphony—in its beating pattern. Sound—vibration—is the language of the mind and the secret to creation.”

We are creatures of this planet, co-evolved with Earth’s environment through the helix structure of our DNA and the water coursing through us; this is reflected in our behavior, culture, intelligence and beliefs. Our entire bodies resonate with all other life at a similar frequency as the planet Earth. Our brains in their most “divine” state of creativity, prayer or meditation reflect the same frequency. We are a gestalt culmination of light, wave-pulse, matter and motion resonating with this beloved planet Earth. Our minds, bodies and souls “sing” its choral aria. What is muse if not this wonderful “intent”?

So, which came first? Story or reality?

Nina Talks Writing on Dragon Page

July 24, 2017May 30, 2019 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

Some years ago, I was interviewed by Michael Stackpole (New York Times bestselling author of over 40 novels, including “I, Jedi” and “Rogue Squadron”) and Michael Mennenga (CEO of “Slice of Sci-Fi”) on Dragon Page Cover to Cover.

We talked about my book “The Fiction Writer: Get Published, Write Now!” and what new writers fret over. A lot of the discussion focused on how to handle rejection and I shared my “bus terminal” model (also in my book), which worked very well. For details on our discussion about the industry and craft of writing, listen below:

The Bus Terminal Model:

Here is an excerpt from The Fiction Writer, Chapter R:

One way to see your way through rejection is to find ways to distance yourself from your story once you’ve sent it off and to see the whole process of submission-rejection-acceptance as a business. The very best way to do this is to submit lots of stories and to keep submitting them. With novels, this is a little harder to do but you can certainly be working on the next one once you’ve submitted the first.

When I was writing short stories, I kept a list of what and where I submitted, along with the most important item: where to submit NEXT. At any given time, I made sure that I had at least x-number of submissions out there and each story had a designated place to go if it returned. As soon as a story came back from magazine A, I simply re-packaged it and sent it to magazine B. The critical part of the list was to have a contingency for each story: the next place where I would send the story once it returned. I was planning on the story being rejected with the hope that it would be accepted; that way, a rejection became part of a story’s journey rather than a final comment.

I ran my submissions like a bus terminal. A story was in and out so fast it never had a chance to cool off. And, since I had five other pieces out there, I could do this with little emotion. I was running a fast-paced “story depot”, after all. All my stories had to be out there as soon as possible; if they were sitting in the terminal, they were doing nothing for me.

Story and Metaphor in Art Form: How Writing and Painting Whisper or Shout Their Truths

July 5, 2017April 4, 2020 / thealiennextdoor / 1 Comment

God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains; it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world—C.S. Lewis

Prospect Point in the fog, NS (photo by Nina Munteanu)

A short while ago I painted on a canvas for the first time in over twenty years…okay, thirty years. It was a thrilling experience but also refreshing and freeing to use a different medium to express myself and tap into that place—that force—that resides inside us and speaks to us.

Part of the thrill was that I was being coached by a good friend of mine who is a master painter and teacher. What’s interesting is that while she instructed me on some of the painting methods, it struck us both how many similarities existed in composition, technique and structure between visual art and storytelling.

Take direction, for instance. A writer uses plot and subplots to move a story and its characters through a textured and colored tapestry of theme. According to my friend, every painting flows, often directionally (like many photographs) from the lower left to upper right, leading the eye from one place to another, exploring a theme, idea or emotion. Plot is motion. So is the paint brush.

You think only writers tell stories. Well, look again at visual art. Every work of art expresses an artist’s feelings, thoughts and emotions; an artist’s story. We are all stories, after all, and we all have many stories inside us. The writer’s medium is the word; the painter’s is the visual image. Isn’t it a truism that a picture is worth a thousand words? The range and type of story varies equally in both media. For instance, writing ranges from poetry or poetic prose (e.g., Ulysses by James Joyce) that requires substantial interpretation to allegory (obvious symbols) or creative non-fiction (like this blog post) whose artistry lies mostly in its composition and reporting style. Paintings also display a range from the poetry of abstract or surrealistic art (e.g., the surrealism of Salvadore Dali), which requires more interpretation, to realistic “photographic” art whose interpretation lies more in its composition (e.g., the detailed realism of Tomislav Tikulin).

The “language” that writers and painters use finds its parallels in form, structure and intent.

For example, let’s take metaphor. The writer uses one concept or image to evoke the feeling of another; “raining cats and dogs” for instance. The painter can evoke the feeling of one medium with another, achieving the same effect through metaphor—producing a stronger more compelling image through oblique metaphor and another perspective. For instance, a painter using acrylics may evoke the tone and emotion of a watercolor by using soft brushstrokes or another medium (e.g., using a sponge or cloth to apply the paint) and lighter softer colors to achieve that signature wash.

A story’s depth is achieved through animating three-dimensional characters that reflect a multi-layered theme. A painting’s depth works through the dance of light, shadows and textures and the use of techniques like fading and detail. Chiaroscuro in story and in painting play on contrast, perspective and the interplay of light and color to pull the viewer and reader deep into the artwork.

Painters echo elements from one part of a painting to another to make it cohesive and provide a “complete” piece that is ultimately satisfying to the viewer. Painters do this by using repeated elements like shapes, curves, and color schemes to get the same flow, or using a faded version of a similar image elsewhere. Techniques that writers use to achieve the same echoing effects for a satisfying story include parallel plotting, mirrored plots, framing (particularly of story promise with climax and dénouement), and themed beginnings and endings.

You’ve heard of writer’s block? There’s also painter’s block; the painter staring at the white canvas, paint brush poised to make that first stroke. Luckily, there’s something called painting-over the dry; not unlike editing a paragraph using the control-shift “x” and “v” key on the computer. Writers continually revise their first drafts, cutting out extraneous exposition and adding thematic details. The writer’s revision process is all about fine-tuning, simplifying and polishing. Painters also “edit” their art through similar means. We even use similar language for both media: “polishing”, “adding color”, “making it flow”, “adding texture”, etc.

Every artist is a reporter of life and truth; every artist chooses the medium that best expresses his or her art. I started out in the visual arts. I was all ready to pursue a fine arts degree in university to become a commercial artist. Then, right on registration day, I opted out of art altogether and went into the science program. Heck, I went all the way to getting a Masters of Science degree, taught university science courses and consulted in the environment. Now, here I am writing science fiction and eco-fiction and teaching writing to engineers and scientists and science fiction writers. Cool, how we choose our path…