CBC's Canada Writes Shortlists my story Wolf Howling at Moon

Last February, I quietly entered a story I wrote to the CBC's Canada Writes, their nationwide literary contest, in their Creative Non-Fiction category. Submissions had to be between 1200 - 1500 words and not previously published. I had been working on a new ending to my book, a memoir, nd with only slight editing, it fit their world count. I sent it in. I didn't bother telling anyone, including my husband. We writers are never sure about these things.

So I was thrilled when I received a call in early July from the CBC to tell me that my story had been shortlisted in the Creative Non-Fiction Category. Out of 2700 submissions, my story made it into the top 5.  I couldn't  believe it. My story is a very personal glimpse into our family's life with our son who has Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. People were really interested?

My story, along with an interview with me was then posted (and remains) on the CBC's Canada Writes website (Creative Non-Fiction category).  Stories and interviews of the other 4 candidates were also posted. 

To encourage people to read the stories from these shortlisted candidates, Canada Writes held a Public Vote, asking readers to choose their favourite  from the Top 5. Lo and behold, Wolf Howling at Moon was chosen as the Readers' Choice. More thrilling news.

The nicest thing about having my work posted and up for the Public Vote, is the response I received by dozens and dozens of people throughout the country, telling me why my story resonated with them. Some had children with special needs. Most did not. They just found the story touching in a way that was meaningful to them. They appreciated my hosesty. They found the writing economical and powerful. They cried. They shared stories about their own children. Many felt my story made them fell more optimistic about  their own child.  How very gratifying.

So dear bloggers, I'd like to share my story, Wolf Howling at Moon, with you, as well as the interview the CBC did with me. In the interview,  I talk about how I came to write the story as well as about my son and Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.

I hope you read and enjoy both.  And make sure to note the photograph of my son Michael's woodcarving, Wolf Howlign at Moon, which gave my story its name.  He is so very proud to see his carving online.

The links are below:

The story:    http://www.cbc.ca/books/canadawrites/2013/07/wolf-howling-at-moon-by-linda-rosenbaum.htmlhttp:/

The interview:  http://www.cbc.ca/books/canadawrites/2013/07/linda-rosenbaum-interview-creative-nonfiction.html

Ahmed, Me and the CBC

I hopped into the taxi, gave the driver my destination, then sat in silence for only a few seconds before he asked:

“Would you like to hear the radio?”

“I don’t think so right now, but thanks for asking,” I answered. “You’re the first cabbie to ask,” I said, thinking of the many times I’d gotten into a car with the music blaring.

“You know, according to the book,” the driver said, "we’re suppose to ask the customer before turning the radio on.”

“I didn’t know that,” I said.  “I’ve had a couple of nice experiences lately, though. Twice when I got into a cab, the driver was listening to the CBC. I happen to love the CBC.”

“Ah, yes, the CBC, my favourite, too.”

‘Ah, yes, the CBC.  My favourite, too?’  His comment both surprised and delighted me. It challenged my stereotype of who a typical CBC listener is, and like all stereotypes, it was good to be challenged. I knew my driver was an immigrant because of his strong accent. As well, I was quite sure he was Somali. I had become familiar with their distinctive facial physiognomy since large numbers of Somalis immigrated to Canada in the 1980s.
          
I wanted to ask my driver how he came to his love of the CBC, but didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. I thought it best to talk about myself first.

“The CBC has played a big role in my life,” I said. “I’m an immigrant to Canada—from the States. Most people think there’s not much difference between the two countries, but there really is. I had a lot to learn about my adopted home when I first came here in 1970. Listening to the CBC helped me feel connected and less lonely.”

“Same here,” he said, introducing himself as Ahmed. “ I’m from Somalia. When I first came, I would listen to the CBC all day, everyday. I learned about Margaret Atwood and Pierre Berton. I heard Gordon Lightfoot sing the ‘Canadian Railroad Trilogy’. I still listen to the station, and it’s good, but it’s not the same.”

As a longtime listener, I agreed. But before I conjured up my list of greatest laments and losses, he beat me to it. “I guess the death of Peter Gzowski and Morningside was the worst. I’ll never forget the day I picked up The Globe and Mail and saw a picture of Peter on the front page with two dates listed above his photo. I knew what they meant. I was so very sad. I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”

Yes, the two dates, birth and death. I, too remember seeing them.

“You’re older than I thought,” I said. “Peter Gzowski goes way back. His last radio show aired in 1997. He was really special wasn’t he?”

“Shelagh Rogers and Barbara Frum, too,” Ahmed said, referring to two other well-known CBC broadcasters. "They would interview people in Newfoundland, then B.C., then the Yukon. I’d take out my map to see where those places were.”

How well I too remembered Shelagh's contagious laugh on Morningside and Barbara’s probing interviews on As It Happens. But it was Peter who touched me the most. Home every day with my colicky first child, he made me feel I was part of the larger world. I felt like I was eavesdropping on wonderful conversations. One day he'd be talking to a woman in the prairies putting up Saskatoon berries, and the next to a man in Quebec on his way out to tap his sugar maples. Inevitably, we’d get a full weather report from these people, find out whether it was a good or bad year for whatever crop they were harvesting, and get a recipe for some kind of jam before Peter hung up.

Some people I knew hated these segments. Thought they were hokey, a little too homespun for their tastes. Not me and Ahmed. We loved hearing everyone’s stories. We thought they actually had the power to pull the country together. Or at least make us feel at home.

“I met so many interesting people.”

“Me too.”

We both laughed, realizing it was happening again. The CBC had brought us, if not the country together.