Edmonton LitFest 2025

Welcome back everyone!

It’s time to reboot the blog and come back from hiatus. Even though I don’t feel 100%, I have lots of new ideas to share with you – so many that I actually made a list of upcoming blog posts.

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Back in August my publicist got in touch with me about being a panel member at Edmonton LitFest for a session about memoir. I would go on stage, read from my book, answer questions, and discuss with other panel members. Oh yes, and in front of an audience.

Having been a prof, I know a lot about presentations. With my students, I almost had to be an entertainer to keep their attention for 50 minutes (or, in the case of one class, 3 hours). I had to read the room, watching who was sleeping and who was playing games on their laptop. I knew how to bring in an anecdote or story to make them pay more attention (just tell them it will be on the test).

But that was all before I got sick; my inability to lecture in front of a class was one of the symptoms of that illness. So I was understandably hesitant about being on a panel. About being on the stage in front of strangers. About having to read and speak in front of an audience.

What made me decide to go was that I realized it would be different than teaching was. The audience was there because they wanted to be, and not because they needed a course credit. I wouldn’t have to do a presentation—just read a few sections of my book and hope everyone laughed in the right places. It was all structured in advance: the moderator asked questions and we panelists answered in order and sometimes interacted with each other. Also the lights were only on stage—we couldn’t see the audience who were in the near-dark. All of this combined made for a better experience than teaching.

Plus I had a friend in Edmonton who I’d never met in real life—we’d read each other’s memoirs and provided feedback but never hung out together. This was an opportunity to finally meet up.

So I said yes, I’ll do it, and then immediately regretted it because of the travel.

I’ve become a terrible traveler. I get debilitating anxiety going through security, which is a whole production of juggling my phone with my e-boarding pass, my carry-on bag and my under-the-seat bag, pulling out my laptop, checking for liquids and gels. I get flustered by the noise and speed of it all, and my hands start to shake and my heart pounds. Once I get through security I worry about having forgotten something behind, getting to the gate on time, and where I can get something to eat if I haven’t brought my own snacks. I agonize over whether or not there will be room for my carry-on bag in the overhead bin, and who I’ll get stuck sitting beside. While waiting at the gate, I’m bombarded with announcements on the speakers—flights being called and passengers being paged. I try to read a book or write in my journal but it has to be a really engaging book to block out all the external stimuli. I had one on this trip but it annoyed me, which meant I couldn’t immerse myself in it.

To top it off, my flights were changed and I got into Edmonton 3 hours later than I’d planned. I had been happy that I would arrive around 3pm and be able to have a nap before meeting my friend, Laura, for dinner. Instead I arrived at 5.45pm and had half an hour to get ready for dinner. No nap for me!

Despite all of that, I had a great dinner with Laura. I was drooping from exhaustion by the time we said goodbye, but it was worth it for the company. Plus I knew I would see her again the next day.

The next day I arrived at the venue before anyone was there to help me. So I wandered around downtown a bit (and of course got lost). By the time I returned the LitFest venue was just opening up and I could get my “presenter” tag.

Before the panel we had a bit of a meet and greet between panelists and moderator, and I could tell I was going to enjoy talking with them. I was so glad I had read both panelist’s books, as it provided a point of connection when we first met. One of the panelists, Vinh Nguyen, had just come from the Calgary LitFest (there are a lot of literary festivals going on at the same time: Victoria, Calgary, Vancouver, Edmonton, etc.). He was a character—very expansive and full of life. We hit it off immediately.

Then it was time to get started.

I read first, and got laughs in all the right places. My voice didn’t quaver and I didn’t lose my place while reading. I even changed what I read on the fly, skipping over one bit and adding in a little extra at the end. Then I answered questions from the moderator. And we went on like that. Until everyone had read and answered questions. Then we started discussing, which was the key part of the panel. We took our cues from the moderator and responded, then another panelist would jump in with a new idea, etc. Finally we had audience questions, which gave us all a chance to talk.

After that we had books for sale in the lobby and people brought us books they wanted signed. I must’ve signed about ten books, with lots of interesting stories from people in line. One guy was a retired biologist, and said that for his Master’s he and his assistant had been dropped off in the Arctic on a caribou trail and told to figure out how to track them. Talk about being thrown in at the deep end. Another woman wanted me to sign my book for her dad, and as I was leaving I saw that he was already reading it.

Me reading from my book (thanks Laura for the photo).

There were more people who bought the book but didn’t come and get it signed, so I think it was a success in that sense. But I think the real success was that I actually did it. I survived the travelling (just), and did well on the panel. On Monday morning I made my way to the University of Alberta campus to meet the University of Alberta Press team, which was great. I’m glad I now have faces to put to names—two of them had even been at the panel!

One thing I realized is that I tend not to expand on things when I’m talking. For example, when the moderator asked if I would go back in the field if I could, I said yes for sure, but didn’t say (which I thought of afterwards) that it’s a perfect place for writing and I love the quiet and lack of busyness. I need to learn to be more voluble. How to answer the question but also add a little more. I notice this in my writing, too—I just say something and leave it in two dimensions, instead of expanding on it and adding that third dimension that lifts it off the page. Now that I’ve discovered this, it’s something I can work on.

I’m glad I said yes to this event. I’ve had to sleep an awful lot to recover, but it was good to be around book people and talk about books and writing. I felt like my creative juices started flowing again. I also realized I need more in-person, Canadian writing community, as my current writing community is mostly web-based and American. I’m going to try and attend the meeting of my local writing group, even though I’ll have to rejig my nap schedule to do it. Worth seeing what it’s like.