DR. ROBERT & ELMA SCHEMENAUER AWARDS

Barbara Ballé and Ward Pycock, both of Kamloops, received the 2018 Dr. Robert and Elma Schemenauer Writing Awards at the Interior Authors Group summer social held 20 July, 2018.

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Barbara Ballé won in the category Writing with a Nature Theme. Her poem "Urban Crow" is a fresh and winsome portrayal of a bird seen regularly in Kamloops, corvus brachyrhynchos. The poem admits he's a scavenger and a nuisance. But he's much more. He's a black Icarus working his mighty wings toward the sun. He's a father helping his mate raise a noisy brood—his claim to eternity. Most of all, he's a dreamer longing to give voice to a song rather than harsh caws. Every day, the crow almost feels this song in his beak, but never manages to produce it.

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Ballé's poem tells us that our dreams and aspirations are important. Even if we never reach our loftiest goals, simply having them gives meaning to our existence and lifts us above the humdrum of everyday life.

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Ward Pycock won in the category Writing with a Kamloops and Area Theme. His novel The Solstice Sphere is set mostly in Kamloops, past and present. Among historical topics explored are Overlanders heading for the Cariboo Gold Rush, their interaction with indigenous (native) people, pioneer days in Kamloops, and the Tranquille tuberculosis sanatorium. Among the novel's timeless themes and topics are family relationships, coming of age, bereavement, addiction, and homelessness. There's an element of magic, which focuses on the solstice sphere. This is a special Christmas bulb that, when immersed in water, transports people to other times and places. Through the novel, readers get to go along for the ride.

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The Solstice Sphere is suitable for adults, young adults, and older children. One judge said: "A great way to learn about history is through stories and this certainly does that. Wish I could have read this to my children when they were younger!"

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Both the Kamloops (& Area) Theme and Nature Theme Awards consist of a cash prize, a certificate, and a press release issued to local media. Accompanying each Award is a cash donation to the IAG to support its growth and educational activities. The yearly deadline for submissions is 21 March. Each Award will be issued annually to a member in good standing of the IAG. There is no fee to enter.

 

For more about the Interior Authors Group, please see https://interiorauthorsgroup.wordpress.com/ .

 

FOLLOWING ARE THE TWO 2018 WINNING SUBMISSIONS

Copyright for the submissions remains with the authors. Permission to reproduce the pieces or to use them in whole or part in any form, printed or electronic, must be obtained from the authors.

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Barbara Ballé e-mail bb0244 [at symbol] telus [dot] net.

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Ward Pycock e-mail wpyco [at symbol] telus [dot] net.

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"Urban Crow" by Barbara Ballé

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Braving the sky

he works his mighty wings

toward the sun, black Icarus.

Surrendering for a few seconds,

to gliding erratic winds,

swallowed

by the distance.

 

He dreams of awakening

to a voice of extended trills,

sweet glissandos,

smooth cadences,

summoning his dark soul

to weep.

Vigour and valour,

he sports a black iridescent coat,

like a moonless night

his fate.

 

Life in the city,

an array of gutters,

puddles,

and dodging traffic.

A scavenger, he must satisfy

voracious appetite.

Always a nuisance

he adapts and survives.

An imposter.

Every day he wakes

almost feeling a song in his beak.

 

In spring, upon his return from the south

in a tall pine, with his mate, he builds a nest of twigs,

a new brood cry,

starving,

his claim to eternity.

 

Unmistakeably,

you’ll spot him

working his mighty wings,

barely visible,

gliding invisible winds

in his daily climb,

surrendering to a life

of songless fate.

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Summary of THE SOLSTICE SPHERE by Ward Pycock

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This historical, fantasy-adventure novel, set in Kamloops, BC, finds ten year old Maryanne Chadbourn rendered homeless by her mother’s struggles with drug addiction. Maryanne encounters a vagrant man who hands her a present: one he cannot use. She opens a small wooden box, exposing an exquisite, hand blown Christmas bulb. The man hopes she will find a home for herself over the holidays, so she can hang the glass decoration on a Christmas tree. In a quickly escalating conflict with her mother, the bulb’s true gifts are revealed, propelling Maryanne on a journey of self-discovery while travelling through Kamloops' past, learning her own family’s history as she moves across time.

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Excerpt from THE SOLSTICE SPHERE

by Ward Pycock

 

Twenty-seven year old Johanna has been away for six months, visiting family in Victoria and giving birth to a daughter there. In the summer of 1869, she returns to Kamloops and her beloved husband, Justus.

 

“It is good to be back,” she said “This feels like home.” She looked about and saw a few new buildings on Main Street, still bright from the raw wood, not yet greyed by

weather and age, and she watched the customary tumbleweed roll between two of them as a gust of wind hit the canyon between the structures. Dust flew up behind it, lifted into the air from the dirt road.

 

“It is becoming one.” Justus picked up her hand and held it. “I have missed you,” he spoke softly, searching her eyes. She seemed different, perhaps she aged and he wasn’t around daily to notice the subtle changes. Maybe it was being a new mother. He did not know. He leaned and kissed her cheek. “So are you ready to see your new house?”

 

“Very much.”

 

“Mind you,” he cautioned, “it is still a rough house.... She needs a little more work.”

 

Justus veered the wagon around the first corner, leaving Main Street. A grey dog trotted along behind them, sniffing occasionally at something or other next to the wheels. The newly developed section of Kamloops was more a series of grid lines on a surveyor’s map, with only a few homes built on the glacial and river alluvial sand deposits of the

lower bowl of the Thompson River valley. Justus led the wagon out across a sandy track, which substituted for a road, until a real street was built in its place. They headed east of the more established neighbourhood directly overlooking the Thompson Rivers, where

some ancient trees shaded the lots. Where they drove, Johanna saw a single house sitting along the dirt pathway. The grassland surrounding this future neighbourhood supported no trees. The horse and wagon kicked up clouds of dust in a few minutes. One gust swirled about the carriage, forcing Johanna to cover up Diana’s face, so she wouldn’t get blasted by

the dust. Johanna adjusted her hat to keep the dust from flying into her face. She noticed her husband didn’t flinch—he was a part of the terrain, more weathered and tanned coloured, like the surrounding mountain slopes than she last recalled. His outfit suited the climate—a rough shirt, dusty pants and a hat that was pulled down so tight, the wind would never dislodge it. She saw how the arid air cracked his skin around his eyes and she didn’t recall those from when she last saw him.

 

“Reminds you of the prairies, don’t it?” offered Justus who covered his face with his forearm, peeking through the gap at Johanna. He smiled feebly, as he knew the kicked-up dust irritated her. He worried for the baby too. They approached the sand lot on which their new home sat. The wood frame structure had not been painted yet and the colour of its wood matched the tans and light browns of the piles of sand heaped around the foundation like massive anthills. The grey dog ran up on the porch. He looked at them, tail

wagging.

 

Distracted by her interest in her new home and by the needs of Diana, who woke up and fussed in her blanket, Johanna shifted the baby into a more upright position and didn’t pay attention to the dog.

 

Justus peeked at Diana. “She has my blue eyes?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“But she has your lips?”

 

“Yes, it is a good thing too—she’s a girl and will need those lips to attract a good an, just like I did.”

 

“Hmmm.” He wasn’t ready to think about his baby daughter having a husband, so he forgot about the idea as soon as she spoke it.

 

Justus pulled up in front of the house and jumped to the ground. He hitched the horse to a post of the future front yard. He assisted Johanna down to the earth. She held tightly to Diana.

 

Johanna walked toward the house, her long skirt dragging in the sand. Her hem swished the sand like a broom, leaving a smooth mark. She climbed the short stack of stairs that led up to the front door. She reached the front veranda which covered the whole front

side of the house.

 

“I built it like this,” Justus explained as he followed her up the stairs, stepping onto the wrap-around porch, “so we could grow old together. Try to imagine a few rocking chairs here and one day this will be a tree lined avenue in the major interior city of Kamloops. What do you think?"