Monday, December 31, 2012

Speculative Fiction Short Story Contest and new digital imprint for science fiction to launch this summer


The Friends of the Merril Collection are running our second annual Speculative Fiction Short Story Contest in order to raise awareness of, and funds for, the Merril Collection of Science Fiction, Speculation and Fantasy through the Friends of the Merril Collection.
Seeking innovative, inclusive, original fiction. Prizes include cash ($350 CDN total), chances to pitch a novel to ChiZine Publications, and more. 
Length: 5,000 words max. Entry fee: $5 per entry. 
Deadline February 15, 2013. Guidelines

Newsflash:

Prime Books is launching a new sci-fi/fantasy digital imprint, Masque Books, in July 2013. Prime's publisher Sean Wallace and senior editor Paula Guran will both work on the line, with former senior science fiction and fantasy reviewer for RT Book Reviews Natalie Luhrs joining the company as acquisitions editor.

The 2013 Canadian Writers' Contest Calendar is available now. Whether you’re a beginner or advanced writer, if you’re looking for places to send your work, you should put contests on your list. The Canadian Writers’ Contest Calendar gives a full listing of contests in Canada arranged by deadline date. It lists contests for short stories, poetry, children’s writing, novels, and non-fiction – contests for just about everyone. The Calendar costs just $20 at one of Brian Henry's workshops or classes or $23.50 by mail (all taxes and shipping included).
To order, email brianhenry@sympatico

See Brian Henry's schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Milton, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Orillia, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

Saturday, December 29, 2012

Friday, December 28, 2012

How to Build Your Story workshop, Saturday, February 23, Orillia


Plotting novels and writing short stories
Saturday, February 23, 2013
10:00 a.m. – 3:30 p.m.
Brewery Bay Food Company, Down by the Bay events room
117 Mississauga Street East, Orillia, Ontario (Map here.)

This workshop will show you how writers plot a novel. You’ll also get the best tips on writing short stories, where to get them published and how to win contests. Best yet, you’ll see how to apply the story-building techniques you’ve learned to your own writing.

Workshop leader 
Brian Henry has been a book editor and creative writing teacher for more than 25 years. He teaches at Ryerson University and has led workshops everywhere from Boston to Buffalo and from Sarnia to Moncton. But his proudest boast is that he has helped many of his students get published.

Fee: $38.94 + 13% hst = $44 paid in advance by mail or Interac
or $42.48 + 13% hst = 
$48 if you wait to pay at the door

To reserve a spot now, email brianhenry@sympatico.ca

See Brian Henry's schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Milton, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Orillia, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Alice Crider at Wordserve literary agency seeks books for the Christian market


Wordserve is an American literary agency that used to primarily serve the Christian market but has recently broadened its area of interest to take on more general clients.

Alice Crider is the newest member of the team. Alice began her career in book publishing in 1998 at Cook Communications in Colorado Springs. In 2001, she went to work at Alive Communications Literary Agency for three years before joining the editorial team at WaterBrook Press, a division of Random House Publishing. 

She studied Communication at Regis University in Colorado and received life coach training through Christian Coaching Institute in 2008.

Alice joined the literary team at WordServe Literary in September 2012. Her passion is to empower authors to realize their publishing dreams and live a life that thrills them. She represents all genres of fiction and nonfiction, primarily in the Christian market.

Query Alice (or another Wordserve agent) at admin@wordserveliterary.com
Include the word Query in the subject line. No attachments. Full submission guidelines here.

Brian Henry will be leading "How to Get Published” workshops on March 16 in Peterborough (details here) and on March 17 in Kingston (details here).  To register, email: brianhenry@sympatico.ca

But probably the best single step you can take toward creating a manuscript that’s ready for publication is to join one of the “Next Step” or “Intensive” creative writing courses. Starting in January, Brian will be leading “Next Step” courses in Mississauga (details here) and in Georgetown (details here), and he’ll be leading   “Intensive” courses in Burlington (details here) and in Mississauga (details here).


See Brian's full schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Milton, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Orillia, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

“The Toilet Paper Conundrum” by Amanda Terry



I am a self-professed Grinch.  Not the Salvation Army executive who steals from children Grinch, but the Grinch who hates Christmas.

My dislike of this season has nothing to do with religion, but more about the commercialization of it.  The bright, garish lights, the noise of endless repeats of the same old Christmas songs, and especially the crowds….

The date is December 23.  Presents are wrapped, food is bought, goodies baked and I'm just about to head out to work for my last day followed by a 5 day weekend.  I'm standing in my bathroom, when I happen to look down and notice there are only a few sheets left on the toilet paper roll.  I open the linen closet, bend down and..... oh, no.  There's one roll of toilet paper left – in the entire house. 

Being the logical thinker that I am, I quickly do the mental math.  1 roll, 10 days – can I make it?  I mentally assess how many napkins I have in the house and realize that this really wouldn't go over very well should I get an unexpected drop in visitor. 

I sigh.  Looks like an after work visit to the mall.

I also have a frugal streak in me, so it never actually occurs to me that I could stop by the grocery store two blocks from my house – even if it costs a dollar or two more.  My first and only thought is Wal-mart. 

I battle my way through the parking lot, find a spot that's about a ½ km from the door and the only free space in the lot.  I trek across parking lot, dodging what I call the Shopping Cart Roadkill.  Parents with carts piled high with gifts for their demanding children can't see and are steering on instinct and let's face it: if you are hit with one of these overstuffed carts, who do you think will win: you or the shopping cart? 

So, with eyes wide open, I dodge not only the cars driving at breakneck speed searching for that elusive spot, but also trying not to become another Shopping Cart Roadkill statistic.

I reach the doors of the Wal-mart, take a deep breathe and push open the doors.  Flashing lights on the Christmas trees that rival the Griswolds, the blast of music assaults my ears and frantic shoppers nearing the end of their shopping marathons.  I wind my way through the throng and head to the house wares section to find that damn package of toilet paper.

I stand at the front of the isle and fall in behind a woman pushing a cart, holding a very young boy by the hand.  Her shopping cart is virtually empty and it takes great restraint on my part not to point out that if she doesn't want her child knocked out by a random elbow or rogue cart, she should place her child in the cart's basket. 

But I hold my tongue and shuffle forward until I'm standing in front of the toilet paper section.  I grab the cheapest store brand package off the shelf and push my way through the isle to the checkout line and grunt with frustration.

The lineup extends halfway across the store.  There is just a single cashier on duty; it appears as if everyone else has left for dinner.  The cashier is new, having been hired just for the Christmas season – which I found out later by the 'trainee' sticker on her name badge.  She appears to be a teenager who is having trouble working the cash register and counting out change. 

In front of me in line is a parent with a screaming kid in the basket of the cart who is constantly reaching out and pointing to the displays saying, “I want.”  The parent looks like she has not just run one marathon, but two.

I balance the package of toilet paper on my hip and try very hard not to tell the kid to shut up.  From behind and I can hear more screaming and this time it's a parent, on a cell phone who has no idea she has already bumped me twice on the butt with her shopping cart.

I switch the package of toilet paper to other hip, close my eyes and try to imagine my zen place – which happens to be a beach in St. Lucia.  But that doesn't long as I listen to the loudspeaker announce that the cashier of the open line at the Wal-mart has just run out of loonies.

Slowly, the line shuffles forward and I'm next in line.  I place the package of t.p on the conveyor belt and again sigh with frustration as an elderly lady in front of me insists on dumping out the contents of her change purse on the belt to count out a dollar in pennies and nickels.

Finally, it's my turn.  The young cashier rings through my single purchase and I hand over a $10 bill.  I shove the uncounted change into my pocket, wave off her offer of a plastic bag and hurry out of the store. 

I stop just outside the door to zip up my coat and check my watch: my one item of necessity cost me an hour of time.  I stomp back across the parking lot, dodging cars and carts and as I reach the darkest section of the lot, I notice a car inching along behind me.  

As a single female, my Spidey sense tingles that its creepy, but my logical brain says, “He wants your space, so he's following you.”

Now that I have my purchase and I've wasted an hour anyway, I decide to have a little fun.  I turn around, scrunch up my forehead and pretend I don't remember where I parked.  I rub my chin and wander up and down the line of cars until the guy following me throws up his hands and drives off.

 I mentally give him the finger and push the keyless entry unlock button on my key fob.  The taillights on my car, which I just happen to be standing in front of, blink in response.  I throw the package of prized toilet paper in my car, fire up my car and peal out of the parking lot.

That was the year I vowed that I would never shop anywhere that close to Christmas ever again.

This year, I finished my shopping two weeks before Christmas, and I have a full package of toilet paper, paper towels, facial tissues and cat food in my linen closet.  But I’ve forgotten something, I’m sure. This year, though, I’ll spend the extra dollar and buy it at the grocery store.  Or figure out a way to make due until January 2 when the world returns to normal.
*** 
Amanda Terry works as a full time office manager/bookkeeper and writes to fulfill the creative side of her brain. Although she has taken a number of Brian Henry's courses and workshops, she has yet to find her niche. She is still hopeful it will come to her one day, perhaps in the shower or through a dream. On December 6, Amanda gave a reading of "The Toilet Paper Conundrum" at LaVita Café in Georgetown.

See Brian Henry's schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Milton, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Orillia, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

"White Christmas," by the Drifters. Enjoy...



Monday, December 24, 2012

“The best Christmas present ever” by Michelle Boomer


On December 24th 2009, my husband and I anxiously watched the weather channel, hoping for a safe drive into Toronto.  We dreaded the 45 minute drive to the city, especially at Christmas.  This year the weather was on our side, one less worry.
We gathered the carefully wrapped presents, climbed into our mini-van and buckled up.  Here we go, I thought, a stressful drive to his sister’s. 
We barely spoke to one another the whole ride there.  We were too busy watching the other drivers on the road. 
Finally, we exited the highway and arrived safe and sound.  The kids were bouncing up and down, excited that Santa was coming tonight!
The afternoon went by so fast.  We watched the smiles on the faces of our nieces and nephew, so pleased the gifts were a success.  Then my sister-in-law made the most peculiar comment.
“You’ll be surprised when you open your gift at Mom and Dad’s,” she said or something to that affect.
I was puzzled.  I didn’t ask for anything in particular.  In fact, I didn’t ask for anything at all.  Why was she so excited for me to open a gift that she wouldn’t be there to see?  Never has Christmas been about the adults, it’s always about the kids.
We left their two story home around 4:30 and drove the 15 minutes to his parents’ house.   Through the subdivision to the Queensway, turn left onto Islington, contend with traffic, yeah.
Every time we’re back in the city, we’re grateful to have moved away from the insanity.  Living in cramped homes and driving bumper to bumper each and every single day was not a life we were willing to live.
We finally pulled up in front of my husband’s childhood home.  We noticed the Christmas lights twinkling along the eaves troughs of the one and a half story house.  My father-in-law no doubt had hung them, his tradition every year.
“Merry Christmas!” we all said to each other.
“I talked to England,” my mother-in-law informed us. 
“How’s the family there?” we asked.
We continued with our small talk as we made our way inside, gifts and all.
James and I took off our coats and found our spots, me on the love seat and James on the chair.
There were a number of reasons we looked forward to Christmas at his parents, despite the wonderful cigarette smell that permeates my clothes and the cat hairs that seem to find their way onto only my pants.
One of the reasons, aside from being with family, is there’s always a Christmas movie on the television – usually A White Christmas or It’s a Wonderful Life, two movies I had never seen until I became a member of the family.
The other reason we liked Christmas at his parents’ were the finger foods.  The dining room table was always covered with tiny dishes that made it feel like you really weren’t eating much at all.
This year was no different.  There were cheeses with various types of crackers, Polish sausage, mini quiche, luncheon meats, rolls, party mix and more. 
What was different about this year was the conversation.  Every year we sit and chat before opening the gifts.  This year however, the small talk was minuscule.  I don’t even remember if there was any.
“You have to open one of your gifts now,” my mother-in-law said to me.
She handed me a perfectly square, worn looking box with the top folded in that ever so confusing manner.  When you finally learned how to fold the flaps down, it was an accomplishment you had rights to brag about.
I looked at the light brown marred box and went through the secret wish list in my head of what could possibly be hiding in such a box. 
All eyes were on me.  My father-in-law sat on the couch under the bay window to my left.  My husband and mother-in-law were just off to my right, almost in front of me.  They watched in anticipation as I stared at the box on my lap.
I carefully opened the flaps and saw crumpled newspaper covering whatever was hidden below.
As I lifted the paper, I gasped in surprise!
There resting on a bed of used newsprint was the most beautiful figurine I had ever seen.
I carefully lifted her out and gazed at the exquisite dark green ball gown with soft pink puffed sleeves.  Her light brown hair was delicately styled high on her head.  She gazed softly off to the side, gently lifting her gown.
When I turned to look at the bottom of the Royal Doulton, I saw my name: Michelle.
My entire life I had always wished for one Royal Doulton with my name.  A graceful elegant doll wearing a Gone with the Wind type ball gown.
“There’s a story that goes with getting it here,” Dallas said. 
She began to explain that his sisters-in-laws had searched the internet for Michelle.
So even my in-laws’ in-laws were involved!
“We found it in England.”
“England?  It came from England?”  I replied.  How weird to have found my doll in England, where my mother-in-law’s family is from.
“A man named Burt sold it to me.”
“That was your Dad’s name!” I exclaimed. 
My mother-in-law stared at me and said, “Wasn’t your grandpa’s name Burt?”
I froze.  I looked at James, then his mom, his dad.  We all had tears in our eyes. I’d been  thinking only of James’ family. After all, they’re from England.  I never thought about my grandpa.
“Oh my gosh, Grandpa. This is from Grandpa,” I whispered and tried not to cry. He’d found my doll.
Walter Burt Whitehead was my grandpa.  He’d died fifteen years earlier. So he couldn’t really be the Burt who found my figurine (nor was it my mother-in-law’s Burt), but still, I had a feeling that this was Grandpa’s way of reaching down from heaven to say hi.
***
Michelle Whitehead Boomer lives in Waterdown with her husband and their two-year-old kitten, Izzy.  She returned to teaching day care after eight years in the health and nutrition industry where she developed a love of alternative healing and learned everything happens for a reason.  She is currently editing her first middle grade chapter book and writing short stories for adults.

See Brian Henry's schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Milton, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Orillia, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Abundance of the Infinite by Christopher Canniff and Flying Fish and Kangaroo by Jennifer Artley Moore


Hi, Brian.
I have attended your workshops and most recently your Creative Writing course. Just to let you know, I shortlisted in the 2012 Ken Klonsky Novella Contest, and I was offered a publication contract! The book launch took place November 20 at Quattro Book's Q Space in Toronto.
All the best,
Christopher Canniff

Christopher’s novella, Abundance of the Infinite, is available through Quattro Books here
See more information about the annual Ken Klonsky novella contest here.


Hi, Brian.
I wanted to let you know that my book Flying Fish and Kangaroo: Worldly Ways to Get Your Kid to Eat Absolutely Anything is available on Amazon as a Kindle edition for just 99 cents See here.

The blurb:
While living in Toronto, Jennifer Artley Moore, and her two children (ages 8 and 11), set out to eat every cuisine in the world, feasting on such things as flying fish, kangaroo, caterpillars, and much more. Through experiences and practical advice, Moore tells the story of how she taught her children to be worldly eaters while fostering them to be open-minded.

Thanks,
Jennifer
P.S. Jennifer Artley Moore is my new pen name.

See Brian Henry's schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Milton, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Orillia, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

"A Day of Pain and Suffering" by Natalie Little


Sometimes, random encounters and chance youtube views are so exquisitely providential, one is simply forced to share with the world your good fortune.

I happened upon a video that tickled my funny bone last night. It was a 13 second clip of an actor performing as Hercules. He had clearly misinterpreted the script and proceeded to act out the stage directions. Watch it twice and then come right back…



Now, with this clip in mind, I will tell you about the horror of a day I just had.
I had four appointments. All were strategically scheduled....there was no chance involved. Why, you might ask, would anyone subject themselves to such a horror of a day? You've heard me say this a million times, go big or go home! Words to live by. So without further ado, let the games begin:

Appointment #1: Aqua Bootcamp. I walking into the pool area this morning expecting my usual take it easy Wednesday workout. There, standing on the platform in front of the pool, was none other than a young female whippersnapper, all decked out in Lululemon gear. After fifteen minutes of warm ups, she proceeded to inflict such torturous restrictions on my buttocks, I thought it would remain in a permanent spasm. "No Pain No Gain!" she yelled at me, over and over again.

Honestly does anybody in the world actually believe that? If I ever meet the idiot who coined that phrase, I'm going to stick my fingers in their eyes. Repeatedly! Whilst in the middle of an extended squat, Hercules suddenly popped into my head. I grit my teeth and whispered "DISAPPOINTED!!!"

The result was a fit of giggles that nearly caused me to test out the blue dye theory in the pool.

Appointment #2: Eyebrow waxing.  If I don't deal with my eyebrows, my whole eye lid would be an eyebrow. Brooke Shields is no match for the hairy gong show that frames my face. I avoid waxing like the plague. It is so painful, I actually nearly cry every time I have them done....and I've been having them done for years. Today, I had an older vietnamese lady taking hot wax to me. Each time she would rip back the wax, she would say, "bootiful."

The first time she said it, I giggled. The second time I fought the urge to reply, "DISAPPOINTED!!"

By the third strip, I was giggling so much, she actually said in a stern voice, "You stop dat. I gon make big mess and take off whole eyebrow."

This was the first time in my life I actually focused with an acute intensity on the physical pain being inflicted on me by an elderly woman from the far east. I only just managed to contain the laughing fit that erupted  as she left the room.

Appointment #3: Yearly Physical. Okay, I am aware that there are men reading this little blog who have no notion of the horrors awaiting a women in a doctor’s office. So, in the interest of propriety, I will expound with as much censure as I, Natalie Little, am able. (Brace yourself)

Firstly, the breast exam. Having a complete stranger fondling your breasts is never pleasant, but when that stranger takes it upon themselves to examine with such intensity as to rule out any unwanted lumps on your SPINE, the fondling is breath holding uncomfortable.

Secondly, the gynaecological exam. If I was ever so fortunate as to be a speaker at a medical school, I would have one very important piece of advice. Most women in the world do not like to be told to relax in a tense situation. When another human being is inserting a device that resemble a duck's bill and comes fitted with a crank into that woman's most intimate place, telling her to relax is the height of stupidity!

It was in the midst of that exact situation, listening to the crank, crank, crank of the duckbill...feeling like I was about to be split in two like a wishbone, Hercules again made his appearance. "DISAPPOINTED!" Well, let me tell you, the fit of giggles that threatened to turn the pool blue, now produced a less desirable result. When a female laughs, all kinds of muscles contract. ALL KINDS OF MUSCLES.

"Relax" said the doctor. "You need to relax," she said again as Hercules kept saying over and over in my mind, "this isn't my world..." Out shot the ducks bill. DISAPPOINTED!!
"Oh I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, now collapsing into loud out-of-control laughter.

The doctor gave me a thin smile that said, "Pull it together! I have more important things to do than fiddle with your lady bits." I finally got myself under control by humming the Star Spangle Banner. Works every time. The rest of the appointment went off without a hitch, but once I was safely in my car on the way home, I let out a loud hysterical
 "DISAPPOINTED!!!"

Appointment # 4: Eye exams for myself and my two children. Two children in a doctors office is nightmare on a good day. Today, my children were like 2 little bulls in a china shop. No amount of threatening or pleading did anything to get them to sit on a spot and pretend to be the civilized children I am not raising. (I truly think civilized is overrated ...but does indeed come in handy when one is trying to make an impression).

 What made this situation more hysterical, was the fact that, on arrival, I had been given those pupil dilation drops used to rule out Glaucoma . So not only did I look like a basket case running around after my misbehaved children, I was doing so feeling like this...



After I left that horrid appointment an hour and a half later, I  simply got into the car with a couple of pizza slices; drove home; plonked the kids down in front of the TV with said pizza ... and crawled into bed for a 20 minutes reprieve.  I lay there in fetal position reflecting on my nightmare day. An overwhelming feeling of gratitude washed over me once I realized that I had spent a good portion of my day in fits of laughter ... all thanks to an actor, who couldn't read a script properly.

Next year, on my annually scheduled day of torture, I hope to have had such a providential encounter on the internet the night before all my pain and sufferings. Tonight as I climb into bed, my ass throbbing; good bits tender and eyebrows red and inflamed, I'm going to yawn and say with as much intensity as I can muster ..."DISAPPOINTED!!


Natalie Little is a 30-something wife, mommy, daughter, sister, and friend. Born in Zimbabwe and raised in south Africa, Natalie is a British national and Canadian citizen. (Top that!) Check out her blog, Little Bombastic, here.


See Brian Henry's schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Milton, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Orillia, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

Friday, December 21, 2012

Writing Contest for Kids & Teen; Arc Poem of the Year Contest, and CBC Creative Nonfiction Contest


Book Week 2013 Writing Contest for Kids & Teens
Young writers from across Canada, in grades 4 to 12, are invited to submit their stories and/or poems (fiction or non-fiction) to the Book Week 2013 Writing Contest for Kids & Teens. Judging is done by noted writers from across Canada and one winner from each grade will receive a $250 gift certificate for the bookstore of his or her choice. Two honourable mentions from each grade category will also receive $50 gift certificates.
Maximum length: 1,500 words. 
Deadline: Entries post-marked by February 1, 2013.
Contest rules and submission instructions here.


Arc Poem of the Year Contest
Arc Poetry Magazine invites entries for the Arc Poem of the Year Contest. Grand prize: $5000. Short­l­ist: 50 short­l­is­ted poems, pending per­mis­sion of their authors, will be eli­gible for the Read­ers’ Choice Award (via online voting). 

Length: 100 lines max. Entry fee: $32 (includes sub­scription). Dead­line: Feb­ru­ary 1, 2013. 
Contest rules and submission instructions here.



CBC Creative Nonfiction Competition
Entries of literary nonfiction are invited for the CBC Creative Nonfiction Competition. First prize: $6000, publication in enRoute magazine, two-week residency at The Banff Centre’s Leighton Artists’ Colony. The 4 runners-up will each receive $1,000, courtesy of the Canada Council for the Arts, and their stories will be published on the Canada Writes website.

Length: 1200-1500 words. Entry fee: $25 per entry. Deadline: February 1, 2013
Contest rules and submission instructions here.

The 2013 Canadian Writers' Contest Calendar is available now. Whether you’re a beginner or advanced writer, if you’re looking for places to send your work, you should put contests on your list. The Canadian Writers’ Contest Calendar gives a full listing of contests in Canada arranged by deadline date. It lists contests for short stories, poetry, children’s writing, novels, and non-fiction – contests for just about everyone.  The Calendar costs just $20 at one of Brian Henry's workshops or classes or $23.50 by mail (all taxes and shipping included). 
To order, email brianhenry@sympatico.ca

See Brian Henry's schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Milton, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Orillia, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.