Because of the crash of the oil rig helicopter off the coast of Newfoundland today, the book launch for Mike Heffernan's book, Rig, has been cancelled, to be re-scheduled.
GC
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Book Launch
In my 1080 class today, a student (you know who you are, Brad) read a poem from a young man named Greg Tiller who was one of the 84 men who went down on the Ocean Ranger oil rig when it sunk in 1982 off the coast of Newfoundland. It was a day that those who were alive in this province will never forget. It changed a lot, not only in the oil industry but in the lives and the very soul of this place.
Greg Tiller was an extremely young man and a pretty good poet, who dreamed of something better in his life. I had the pleasure of reading some of his poetry as I read the manuscript by Mike Heffernan, who launches his book, Rig, tomorrow night at Bianca's on Water Street (7-9 p.m.). It's an incredibly moving and important book that tells the stories of those who were left behind, those who knew someone and/or was related to someone who went down on the Ranger on that stormy February night. One of the stories told, though, is that of Greg Tiller, and I thought it was either incredible synchronicity or a sign, or both, that Brad read the poem in class today. I was going to mention the launch anyway because I'll be introducing the author (and, of course, it means one night when I won't be grading essays, which means a pretty late night in the hope of getting those 1080 essays back on Friday, a few days before your next assignment). But in the rush of it all, I almost forgot to mention the launch...until Brad steps up and reads his poem.
Amazing. Even more amazing, Brad used to work on the rigs himself in Alberta and has entered university with the hope of a different life for himself than the one he had. I don't know what he thought of life working an oil rig, but I know he wants something different. I admire anyone who can do that for a living. It's hellishly hard work, from what I know. But I also admire anyone who can foresake the good money and dream of something else, then act upon it. Greg Tiller never got that chance. I can't speak for him. I don't know what he would have done. I just know what he could have done, and he had a poetic soul. All that remains, though, are his poems and his story. Ever since I read the chapter in Mike's book about Greg Tiller, I've been planning to write something in his honour. Something about his young, creative spirit connected with who I was around the time of the Ranger sinking, and how different my life, and my future was from his. So maybe this was another sign to me that maybe Greg's story needs to be told in yet another way. Maybe. I just hope to be up for it and worthy of telling it.
So anyway, yeah, fate's a fickle thing. Hope to see some of you at the launch. It's an unusual launch in that it's a celebration of the talent and efforts of the brilliant young writer and editor, Mike Heffernan, but at the same time, it's a commemoration of the souls and lives touched by the Ocean Ranger, and a single night that binds so many together in ways that can barely be expressed.
GC
Greg Tiller was an extremely young man and a pretty good poet, who dreamed of something better in his life. I had the pleasure of reading some of his poetry as I read the manuscript by Mike Heffernan, who launches his book, Rig, tomorrow night at Bianca's on Water Street (7-9 p.m.). It's an incredibly moving and important book that tells the stories of those who were left behind, those who knew someone and/or was related to someone who went down on the Ranger on that stormy February night. One of the stories told, though, is that of Greg Tiller, and I thought it was either incredible synchronicity or a sign, or both, that Brad read the poem in class today. I was going to mention the launch anyway because I'll be introducing the author (and, of course, it means one night when I won't be grading essays, which means a pretty late night in the hope of getting those 1080 essays back on Friday, a few days before your next assignment). But in the rush of it all, I almost forgot to mention the launch...until Brad steps up and reads his poem.
Amazing. Even more amazing, Brad used to work on the rigs himself in Alberta and has entered university with the hope of a different life for himself than the one he had. I don't know what he thought of life working an oil rig, but I know he wants something different. I admire anyone who can do that for a living. It's hellishly hard work, from what I know. But I also admire anyone who can foresake the good money and dream of something else, then act upon it. Greg Tiller never got that chance. I can't speak for him. I don't know what he would have done. I just know what he could have done, and he had a poetic soul. All that remains, though, are his poems and his story. Ever since I read the chapter in Mike's book about Greg Tiller, I've been planning to write something in his honour. Something about his young, creative spirit connected with who I was around the time of the Ranger sinking, and how different my life, and my future was from his. So maybe this was another sign to me that maybe Greg's story needs to be told in yet another way. Maybe. I just hope to be up for it and worthy of telling it.
So anyway, yeah, fate's a fickle thing. Hope to see some of you at the launch. It's an unusual launch in that it's a celebration of the talent and efforts of the brilliant young writer and editor, Mike Heffernan, but at the same time, it's a commemoration of the souls and lives touched by the Ocean Ranger, and a single night that binds so many together in ways that can barely be expressed.
GC
Monday, March 2, 2009
Reminder for English 1101 essays
To emphasize the point I made at the beginning of class today, in writing your essay about Frankenstein, even though it's meant to be an argumentative piece, that doesn't mean you need to write things like "It is my opinion that" or "I think" over and over. In fact, your essay will suffer from the use of such useless language. Such words generally don't mean anything. It is understood that what you're writing comes from your own mind and, as such, represents your opinion.
Consider the difference between the following two statements:
1. In my opinion, Victor Frankenstein is a neglectful father and scientist.
2. Victor Frankenstein is a neglectful father and scientist.
Sentence #2 says the same thing as #1, except the second one is leaner, more straightforward, and more forceful. It packs more of a punch. When you say "in my opinion" and "I think," you are weakening the impact of your statement (or so I believe). See? When I add "or so I believe," it suggests I have doubts about the strength of my position, when I really don't.
There's nothing wrong, per se, with putting yourself into the essay, though I truly don't see why you need to. It's just wasted words, and when you only have 900 words at your disposal, you can't afford to wasted thirty or more of them telling me what is already implied: your words are your own. You don't need to remind me of that.
Or so I believe. :-)
GC
Consider the difference between the following two statements:
1. In my opinion, Victor Frankenstein is a neglectful father and scientist.
2. Victor Frankenstein is a neglectful father and scientist.
Sentence #2 says the same thing as #1, except the second one is leaner, more straightforward, and more forceful. It packs more of a punch. When you say "in my opinion" and "I think," you are weakening the impact of your statement (or so I believe). See? When I add "or so I believe," it suggests I have doubts about the strength of my position, when I really don't.
There's nothing wrong, per se, with putting yourself into the essay, though I truly don't see why you need to. It's just wasted words, and when you only have 900 words at your disposal, you can't afford to wasted thirty or more of them telling me what is already implied: your words are your own. You don't need to remind me of that.
Or so I believe. :-)
GC
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