A War of Words by Vanessa C. Hawkins

 

 

 Vanessa Hawkins Author Page

    

You ever hear of a word war? If your familliar with Nanowrimo or national novel writing month, then you probably have. Word wars are like the Olympics of writing, minus the spandex. They're a turbo boost for productivity, turning procrastination into a distant memory faster than you can say "writer's block." It's like a battle royale, but instead of wielding swords, we're armed with laptops and caffeine-fueled determination.

Not a word war... though accurate.

Imagine a room full of writers, all clacking away furiously on their keyboards, eyes wide with the thrill of the chase for word count supremacy. It's a frenzy of creativity, where the only rule is to write like the wind and pray your spellcheck doesn't fail you.

A real life depiction of a room of writers...

And let's not forget the camaraderie! Word wars are the ultimate bonding experience, where fellow writers become comrades-in-arms, cheering each other on through the highs and lows of the literary battlefield. Plus, there's nothing like the sweet taste of victory when you emerge with the highest count!

So far, word wars have gotten me through a few writer's blocks. Nothing beats a bit of competition, though I usually always lose... Lately I have been trying to turn by brain down a notch. Stop overthinking everything I write down and just get it on paper so I have something to work with during the editing phase. But I got to wondering if its only me who struggles. Obviously not.... but what do you do to get through blocks and obstacles? Wait till it passes, and hope the time is short, or power through it?

Surely some one else can relate, right? 

Canada's Deserts by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

https://books2read.com/The-Travelling-Detective-Boxed-Set

https://books2read.com/u/bapW6a

Canada’s Deserts

Only forty-one of the one-hundred ninety-five countries on this earth have deserts but the deserts cover almost one-third of the earth’s land mass. I am a Canadian writer and all my mystery, historical, romance, and young adult novels are set in Canada. Canada is the second largest country in the world and home to one desert and three pseudo-deserts. A pseudo-desert is defined as an area that has some of the qualities that make up a desert, but does not meet the technical standards to be termed a true desert

There are three main features of a desert: less than 250 millimetres (10 inches) of precipitation each year; sparse vegetation; and severe weather changes. Other characteristics include humidity, high winds, little cloud cover, and aridity. The types of deserts are semi-arid, cold, coastal, and hot and dry.

The people of the Southern Interior of British Columbia claim that Canada’s only desert is in the Osoyoos area. Many of the businesses in the region have the word ‘desert’ in their names, such as the Nk’Mip Desert Cultural Centre and the Osoyoos Desert Centre. Tourists come to this part of British Columbia to see this popular desert.

But others say that, although it does have desert type plants like cacti and animals such as the sage grouse and tiger salamander, it is not really a desert because of the precipitation which is 323 mm (12.7 in) annually. It is defined as a pseudo-desert.

Another pseudo-desert in Canada is the Carcross Desert, located outside the community of Carcross in the Yukon. At 2.6 sq km (1sq mi) it is called the smallest desert in the world. But while it is termed a desert it is actually the remains of an ancient glacial lake which left the sand dunes when it dried up. In spite of the strong winds from Lake Bennett which bring in more sand, kinnikinnick, Yukon lupine, Baikal sedge, and lodgepole pines are able to survive.

The local people used the dunes for sandboarding, hiking, beach volleyball, and all-terrain vehicles and there are scenic tours for tourists.

The third pseudo-desert in Canada is the Great Saskatchewan Sand Hills covering 1,900sq km (734 sq mi). Like the Carcross Desert they are desert-like sand dunes situated just north of the village of Sceptre in southwestern Saskatchewan. Also like the Carcross Desert, the hills were left when glaciers melted 12,000 years ago and are home to a variety of plants and animals that have adapted to the dunes.

The Canadian Arctic Tundra is considered the only true desert in Canada. However, it isn’t a hot desert; it is a cold polar desert and covers a large area in northern Canada. The land is covered by thick layers of ice instead of sand and has a cold, harsh climate with temperatures dropping as low as -40 degrees Celsius (-40F). Trees have a difficult time surviving in the permafrost during the short growing season so the tundra is covered mainly by small shrubs, mosses, and lichens. A number of animals--arctic hares, muskoxen, polar bears, arctic foxes, and caribou--manage to live in this cold desert in the far north because they have thick fur coats to keep them warm.

National Parks and Reserves of Canada by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

https://books2read.com/u/mKJxdd

 

 https://books2read.com/u/mYgK6x

 

National Parks and Reserves of Canada

I am a Canadian writer and all my mystery, historical, romance, and young adult novels are set in Canada. Canada is the second largest country in the world and has forty national parks and ten national park reserves covering an area of approximately 342,000 sq km (132,000 sq mi). This is about 3.2% of Canada’s total land area.

Canada’s first national park, Banff National Park (formerly the Rocky Mountain Park), was created in the province of Alberta in 1885 to protect the land around the Cave and Basin Hot Springs from being developed. Two more parks were created in 1886: Yoho National Park and Glacier National Park, both in the Rocky Mountains in the province of British Columbia. The land for the Waterton National Park, in southern Alberta, was set aside in 1895.

After Waterton it was nine more years before another park was created. The Thousand Islands National Park, which encompasses the one thousand islands of the Islands Parkway on the St. Lawrence River, was established in 1904. These islands are the remnants of former ancient mountains. Then, from 1907, when Jasper National Park was formed, to 2015 when Qausuittug National Park was established on Bathurst Island in Nunavut, forty-four more parks and reserves were created in the ten provinces and three territories. Each park or reserved was formed to protect the habitat of some animal or plant, or for its scenic magnificence. An example is Qautuittug which is the habitat of the endangered Peary Caribou.

One of the features of the parks are red Adirondack chairs. The placing of the red chairs began in Gros Morne National Park in Newfoundland/Labrador in 2011. The members of the park staff positioned eighteen sets of chairs throughout the park and held a contest to see who could find all eighteen sets. The winner won a pair of red chairs. Since then the other parks have followed suit and now there are over two hundred across Canada, all made from 100% recycled plastic.

Some are easily found while others require a bit of a hike. When you find them, sit and enjoy the beautiful view, whether it is overlooking a lake, taking in mountain scenery, enjoying a prairie vista, or listening to a flowing river. The parks offer much to see.

Banff is the most popular park in the country with over four million visitors each year. Tuktut Nogait, in the Northwest Territories, has the least amount of visitors with less than five. A combined total of over fifteen million people view the beautiful scenery of all the parks every year.

Going to the Dentist – By Barbara Baker

 

Since I was a kid, I’ve dreaded going to the dentist. So why would I volunteer to take my granddaughter to see one?

“She’s never had teeth pulled before,” my son says. “Are you sure you want to take her?”

“Yup. I’m not the one pulling her teeth out. The dentist is the bad guy. Not me.”

When we get to the dentist’s office, Ainsley grabs my hand. “Come on.”

She leads me through a colourful hallway, and we climb twisty stairs. At the top, we’re in a tree fort. A tree fort in a dentist office. How cool is that? We test out bean bag chairs in front of a big tv while cartoons race across the screen. Then we move on to a computer at the base of the tree and Ainsley tries out her math skills until they call her name.

“Follow me,” the dental assistant, Breanne says. “Jump right up here.” She taps the blue chair.

Ainsley hands me her stuffies for safe keeping, puts on the fashionable glasses and gets on the chair.

“So, you’ve got some stubborn baby teeth,” Breanne says and then explains what’s going to happen. She’s animated and entertaining and makes it sound like what’s about to happen will be fun.

I cradle the stuffies and watch Ainsley’s hands. They’re relaxed. Fingers spread out. What a brave girl. If she knew what was about to happen, she’d clench them into a ball.

“Hello,” the dentist greets us in a cheerful voice. “I’m going to put in some freezing so you won’t feel anything when the teeth come out.” He pulls Ainsley’s lip out and taps where the needle will go. “But you might feel a bit of a pinch when I do it.”

Ainsley nods.

The dentist slides the longest needle ever towards Ainsley but keeps it down low out of her line of vision. Clever guy.

“Open wide,” he says. “Here comes the little pinch.”

I squeeze the stuffies. Ainsley’s index finger taps the chair once but then relaxes. The dentist jiggles her lip while telling her baby teeth sometimes need help to come out so the adult teeth, which are currently facing the back of her mouth, grow properly. He slips the needle out and passes it discreetly to Breanne.

“I bet your lip feels funny now.”

Ainsley nods again.

“That’s the freezing working.” He smiles. “I’ll be back in a couple minutes.”

“What do you think the tooth fairy will bring?” I say.

“I don’t know if the Tooth Fairy is real.” Ainsley scrunches up her lip.

“Okay. But if she is real, how much money would she bring?”

“She brings money?” Ainsley puckers up her mouth and presses a finger on her lip. “It feels really big.”

“Yup, it’ll feel like that but,” Breanne passes her a small mirror, “look, it’s not big at all.”

Ainsley tips the mirror back and forth to examine her lip.

When the dentist returns, I sit up straight, reorganize the stuffies and squish them together. Tight.

“Okay, kiddo. Let's do this.” The dentist takes a silver plier-like grabby tool, slides it down out of sight again and brings it up to Ainsley’s chin. “Open wide.”

I perch on the edge of my chair and watch Ainsley’s hand. Still relaxed. She’s such a trooper.

“There’s one.”

The tooth pings into a container. He brings the grabby tool back to Ainsley’s chin. Her fingers, her hands – nothing flinches.

“There’s the second one.”

Ping. It also falls into the container.

The dentist looks at me. “Tell her parents not to worry. Those adult teeth will move right into place. Probably in a few weeks.” He turns back to Ainsley. “Good job. I knew you could do it.”

Breanne gives Ainsley two tokens to claim her prizes and then shows her the tiny teeth tucked safe in a miniature treasure chest.

“Wait till the Tooth Fairy sees these.” Ainsley skips down the hallway.

Treehouses? Painless tooth removal? And prizes? What a great day! For all of us.

You can contact me at: bbaker.write@gmail.com

Summer of Lies: Baker, Barbara:9780228615774: Books - Amazon.ca

What About Me?: Sequel to Summer of Lies : Baker, Barbara: Amazon.ca: Books

 

Hockey Night in Canada Somewhere – by Barbara Baker

 

My seven-year-old grandson, Wyatt, loves to play hockey. As a gramma, who played on the Banff girl’s team fifty years ago, I got up the courage to play shinny with him and his dad. I felt naked without the hockey padding but tightened my helmet and stepped onto the ice.

The puck ricocheted off the boards and the slap of the sticks echoed off the mountains.

“Gramma scored,” my son-in-law shouted.

“Off course she did.” Wyatt tapped his stick on the ice. “She was on a hockey team a long time ago.”

Out of the mouths of babes. My heart melted.

Memories of playing hockey as a teenager flooded back. In the mid 70s two of my high school teachers started a girl’s team and enrolled us in the Minor Hockey League.

We had many obstacles to overcome before our first game:

-    learning the rules (important)

-    learning to skate on hockey skates instead of figure skates (challenging)

-    the art of stick handling, passing without losing the puck, and skating fast (equally challenging)

-    there were no funds to buy team jackets (minor detail – we knit toques for everyone)

There was a wide range of athletic abilities amongst us, but we were determined. Not even the 6 AM Sunday morning ice times deterred us.

(top row 3^rd from the left)

We surpassed all our obstacles and our first game was against Jasper.

The game started. They skated fast. They deeked and passed and zipped up and down the ice like super stars. But we kept up. And then there was a bam. Our centre got slammed into the boards.

I stood in the box with my mouth open. My teammates wore similar expressions. Our coaches - speechless.

What the hell? We all looked at the ref. Nothing. He did nothing.

I watched our player lean against the boards and pull herself up. When my line went out I took my spot – left forward. Skate fast. Pass. Stay out of their way. That was my strategy.

I flew down the ice (it’s my memory, I can go as fast as I want). Just as I went to pass to a teammate, I felt a thunk. The next instant I was on my back looking at the overhead lighting.

I rolled over, got up on my knees and blinked. That hurt. A lot.

“It’s a long way from the heart,” Coach shouted. “Get up.” They were the exact words I needed to hear to stop the tears.

We lost 13 – 0. We should have been devastated but we weren’t. We were just thankful we could all still walk.

From then on, our practices involved: how to check, how to take a check, how to avoid a check.

Fast forward to our next game against Jasper. We lost 4-0 but we were all proud of our defeat. We hadn’t been thumped.

Our final game against Jasper was the Easter Tournament in Banff. In the first period there was a battle of sticks in front of their net. And then the red light went on. The red light!

We scored a goal.

It felt like the whole team scored that goal. And it was the only goal of the game. A shutout our coaches talked about for years. We were victorious.

           Now back to the goal I scored while playing hockey with my sweet grandson and my son-in-law.

  

Who am I to tell Wyatt the goal I scored was not intentional? I’d merely leaned on my stick to stop from toppling over after turning too fast. My stick hit the ice just in time for the puck to deflect off it and into the net. Almost like I planned it. But I didn't tell him any of that. I'll let him think I'm a super star for a bit longer. 

 

You can contact me at: bbaker.write@gmail.com

Summer of Lies: Baker, Barbara:9780228615774: Books - Amazon.ca

What About Me?: Sequel to Summer of Lies : Baker, Barbara: Amazon.ca: Books

 

 

Grampa Saves the Day - by Barbara Baker

On a gorgeous fall drive with two of our young grandkids we stop at a park to play. Fresh air. Colourful leaves. Blue Alberta sky. And a backpack full of snacks. A perfect outing.

The kids run and jump and swing through the playground. In no time at all, I have 5,000 steps and only three near heart attacks at the hanging upside down antics.

Just as I begin to video our granddaughter as she hurtles down a zip-line, our grandson, who is only three years old and too short for the ride, lets out a scream. Not just any scream - a full out anyone-within-a-mile-can-hear-him kind of scream.

I bend over in time to see him swipe a wasp off his pinky finger. Tears streak down his face as he sticks his hand in the air.

Even without reading glasses on I can see the stinger, with a blob of venom attached to it, sticking out of a small cut right above his pudgy knuckle. I pull the stinger out and lift it to my eyes. The venom sac still clings to the sharp barb. It’s kind of cool to see but another scream brings me back to my grandson’s finger.

Hugs can’t console him and people start to stare. I’m sure they think the tyke has fallen victim to some enormous travesty set upon him by me. I give the staring people a pleading look to tell them, “I’m doing my best.”

“Let’s go to the car and get a band aid,” Grampa says.  “Stick his finger in your mouth.”

I look at my grandson’s dirty hand.

“It was a wasp sting not a snake bite,” I say.

“It’ll distract him.”

I pick up the tyke and put his finger in my mouth knowing I’m doomed. No amount of hand-sani can’t save me now.

Once his finger is in my mouth, the screaming stops. When it starts up again, it’s not as loud. I suck on the finger. The scream turns into snotty sobs.

At the car, I set him on the tailgate and pour water over the sting while grampa searches for a band aid. Candles, old granola bars, blankets, masks and gloves (thanks covid) pile up beside us. Not one band aid.

Grampa digs through his emergency car repair kit. “Look what I found.” He holds up the tiniest silver hose clamp. “It’s a superhero ring for a brave little boy.”

Our grandson’s eyes go big. “Really?”

Grampa nods a very serious grampa nod. He takes the injured pinky and ever so gently, puts the hose clamp over the red mark.

All the way home our grandson holds his hand in the air.

“I got a superhero ring.” He waves it at his sister. “Because I’m brave.” 

What About Me?: Sequel to Summer of Lies : Baker, Barbara: Amazon.ca: Books

Summer of Lies: Baker, Barbara:9780228615774: Books - Amazon.ca

Barbara Wackerle Baker (@bbaker.write)