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RACHEL ONSTEIN AND TAMMY WALKER made an elegant, high-faehion R.E.M. Lee Theatre when a minor electrical problem set off a fire alarm and
foreground for the sunset April 14. The two Caledonia senior secondary the bullding was evacuated. After a brief break In the parking lot they were
school students were modelling in the school’s annual fashion show at the back on the stage. The fashion show is a fundraiser for the grad activities.

Photo by Rebecca Onstein

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The way
IT see it...

by Stephanie Wiebe

It's Young Writer’s week. You
know what that means don’t you?
It means that I’m an OLD Writer.

I tried to think of some encour-
aging tidbits to pass on fo young
writers — you know, like any
Organisation or profession does to
recruit new members. But I
couldn’t think of anything to say.

Writers don’t get any respect.
We don’t have uniforms, a white
jacket or even special hats. We
don’t even have special T-shirts
to wear. Nobody salutes us, calls
us by a title or asks us to ride in
a parade. I think that makes this a
low-status job. I’m not even sure
when I became a writer. I’ve
always wanted to write, even
went to a university to learn how.

' But nobody handed me a certifi-
cate saying, "You are now A
WRITER." I can’t sign any
initials afler my name, either. I
only called myself a writer after
other people called me that first.
They’ve called me other things,
too, but I don’t think that particu-
lar terminology would look good
on a business card.

The hours are terrible. Some-_

times I can’t sleep at night, won-
dering what I’m going 1o write
about next week. Sometimes I
just write garbage and go to
sleep. Nobody makes the cofice
for me, tells me I can have a
break at 10:15, or makes me quit
at five o’clock. This can be ad-
vantageous when the sun is shin-
ing and I’d rather be at the beach.
It’s the pits when the sun is shin-
ing and I’ve got a deadline hang-
ing over my head.

There’s these silly rules, too.
All those years of diagramming
sentences in school have taken
their toll —- though J try to write
the way I speak, informal and
grammatically incorrect some-
times , there’s always the inhibit-
ing vision of some English
teacher scrutinizing every column
with a sharp red pencil poised for
attack. Once, I actually got some
“fan mail" from an English
teacher, spouting flattering praise
for my writing. Talk about
heavy-duty pressure — I was
sweating over every verb and
pronoun for weeks after that one.

A writer’s pay is lousy, It's

Writing - a bloody prof

bizarre — you only get paid
when you actually write some-
thing. If it takes three days to
write a story, the pay is the
same as for one that only took
half an hour. This is great when
it only takes half an hour, not so
wonderful when it takes three

days. Vacation time and holidays

are on your own bill.

Writers don’t gather together
for professional conventions,
either. There’s never a trip to
Montreal on my agenda. Some-
times they have workshops and
Classes, but you never hear of
conventioning writers rampaging
wildly through a major hotel, do
you? Writers work in solitude,
alone at a keyboard or with their
pencils. This can produce some
strange personality quirks, such
as frequently staring blankly into
space, singing to yourself in |
public, or forgetting that other
people actually read what you’ve

produced, Or forgetting that there -

are other people. Some writers
get pretty uppity about “whom"
and "who", two words that totally
confuse me. I'd like to under-
stand the rules about "whom"
someday, though I doubt I’d ever
use it the term. Somebody once
told me that those writers who do
know this stuff generally can’t
match their socks to their shirt,
so they can be ignored in the real

world.

Encouraging words for young
writers? I guess I don’t have any.
If you have to write, then write.
It’s an addiction, a compulsion,
something that just gets inside
you and cannot be squelched.
Nobody can stop you from doing
it. Oh sure, they can laugh at
you, call you names and toss
sharp objects your way, but other
than public ridicule and possible

ession?

bodily harm, what have you got
to lose?

A famous quote from Walter
Red Smith says, "There’s nothing
to writing. All you do is sit down
at a typewriter and open a vein."
Yes, it’s a bloody profession, but
as another well-known quote
goes, “It’s better than a poke in
the eye with a sharp stick."

I wonder if there’s any chance
of getting some uniforms, though.

Resource sharing
group to meet

Contributed

The balanced sharing of natural
resources, for recreational use,
forest and wildlife industries, and

_ for our great-great grandchildren to

enjoy — an idea worth looking
into, isn’t it? Pat Fechtner, chair-
man and founding member of
"Canadian Women in Timber"
thinks so, and Brenda Armstrong,
representative of "Share B.C."
agrees. Both organisations support
responsible management and wise
use of the land and its by-products
by all special-interest groups and
industries.

~ Canadian Women in Timber, an
-assembly of both men and women

interested in the careful tending of

our environment while supporting
a healthy forest industry, says "We
believe the forests should be har-
vested in harmony with nature to
provide a continuous supply of
forest products." Share B.C is a
Similar association, concerned also
with fish and wildlife management,
mining practises, recreation
resources and environmental pro-:
tection.

Fechtner and Armstrong will
speak at a public meeting Monday
April 30th, at 7:30 p.m. in North-
west Community College’s room
#2002, about the beliefs of their
organisations and the possibility of
forming similar groups in Terrace.
There is no admission charge,

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