In other words
A finger rolled out from under the sofa
How true northerners avoid boredom
When a non-“true northerner” pulls up stakes, they often do so with the disclaimer “It’s a nice place to visit but I can’t live here: there’s nothing to do.”
Then they move back to the city where there’s lots to do: theatre, concerts, sporting events—all those interesting things one “does” in the city (but not including commuting three hours a day, or wondering whether your neighbours are terrorists or mafioso—or possibly even political aids). After all the time many city folk spend fuming and worrying, just watching any form of entertainment is, frankly, a relief (not to mention more time-efficient than actual participation).
Up north we don’t have as much access to professional entertainment as those who live down south. But that doesn’t mean we have nothing to “do.” Any semi-creative person can be up to their funny-bones in culture, if they so choose. No live theatre coming to town? If you can act, direct, produce, run lights or sound, build a set, sew costumes, or sell tickets you can help rectify the situation. No concerts on the horizon? Sigh…I guess you’ll have to make your own music. What, you can’t play? Find someone to teach you. Then book a coffeehouse and make some music. Put on a dance—people will come. They’ll probably even help you make and distribute the posters.
Another way to make your own fun includes writing (though hopefully not until your fingers drop off).
I’ve participated in writing clubs in Prince George and Smithers, and the usual pattern was the same: we’d gather our written work and our egos together once a month and take turns reading and gently critiquing what we had written. The Smithers group even put on a couple of writers’ coffeehouses and published a chapbook.
There are many active writers groups in the North and I’m pretty sure they attend meetings for the same reasons we did. Some writers came for the feedback; these were serious writers who wanted their work dissected, with annotated suggestions for improvement. Some came for the entertainment—writers who can make you laugh, make you cry, or make you laugh ’til you cry. Some—(OK, me)—came for the exercises (and if liking to play literary games makes me a nerd, then I’m OK with it).
One of my favourite games from the Prince George club was one we played between meetings. The group would pick a genre, such as murder mystery or sci-fi. After the meeting, a designated starter contributed an opening sentence, such as “The finger rolled out from under the sofa.” They then emailed it to the next writer, who added a sentence and passed it on further. Usually this concoction went around until it stalled because the next writer in line went on holidays, was hospitalized, or embarked on an international book tour. The results were far from professional, often far from literary, but the exercise was fun and certainly never boring.
This writing exercise works as a metaphor for the creative process that happens in northern communities. Someone has an idea—it catches someone else’s imagination, they add to it, others jump in and before you know it, you have a…a thing of some description: a satisfying collaboration, entertaining in many ways—sometimes it’s good enough to share with others who don’t even know you (and, therefore, less inclined to be forgiving.)
The children of these creatively active adults benefit from being immersed in a do-it-yourself cultural world. Their parents, having had their fingers in many creative pies, are acutely aware of the value of an arts education (lessons in dance, voice, band, drama—the list is as long as available time and the family income will allow—and sometimes then some). Ironically, these kids sometimes grow up and become creative professionals—acting, writing, making music, dancing—creating the shows that city folks “do” for their entertainment. If we’re lucky, they eventually come home and pass their expertise on to our children, further enriching the northern soil in which so much talent grows.
That we have the ability to influence—or even initiate—change is empowering. In a city, it’s easy to passively accept or reject your environment. Up here, true northerners really can…and do…“just do it.”
By: Marie-Lou Lefrancois
15 February 2008
By: Joanne Campbell
16 February 2008
By: Marie-Lou Lefrancois
17 February 2008