Category: Writing

Fact is, I don’t really have a set writing practice. Instead I’d say that the rest of my life, with a smattering of procrastination (okay, maybe more than a smattering) shapes the writing I do.

That procrastination thing is a killer. I love writing, but am also quick to do other things to avoid it. Why? Years of therapy have so far failed to yield any change on that front. But give me a deadline, and things start to happen. College and university? Deadlines. Newspapers, translation contracts and magazines? They all provide me with deadlines.

The existence of these deadlines has served me well. I’ve done some of my best writing when there are only minutes to go before my editor has my copy, or keels over from their latest heart attack. That’s when my energy finally comes into focus. That’s when the flow state happens.

So when it came to writing The Granby Liar, I had no deadline. None. Nada. No publisher and no idea how I would get it into print. As a result it took me a decade to get it done. When I gave my mom the manuscript my nephew said “Un-oh. A Crossfield actually finished something.” I guess I’m not the only one in my family who’s good at starting things, but not finishing them.

So when asked about my method for novel writing, I had to admit I didn’t really have one. I don’t have a specific period in the day exclusively for writing. I don’t set a daily word count for myself. My story planning is basically a few pages of notes: Turns of phrase, questions to be answered, maybe an idea for a plot twist or a new character. I don’t plot out the story line, plan chapters or try to bend the characters to my will.

Indeed, I enjoy letting the characters drive my general idea of the plot. Sometimes a minor character has enough lifeblood to become more important, sometimes more important characters whither on the vine.

Welcome to the pandemonium in my head. And out of it comes (hopefully), something I can be proud of. Always keeping in mind that just because one is creative doesn’t mean everything they create is art. Sometimes the art is in going back and tweaking things. Sometimes there is no art to be found, and my efforts end up in the waste bin.

Every writer has their way of doing things. Some plot out every section, every chapter, ahead of time. Others are more like me. Like life, it’s a matter of figuring out what works best, and what works best for me may be the exact wrong thing for you.

Writing, like life, is a DIY project. With practice I’ve gotten better at a few times, and everything takes longer than I’d expect. And while there are moments when I miss the adrenaline of a midnight deadline where the guys on the press are waiting for my copy, I’m happier to learn better time management and appreciate the writing I do.

I hope you’ll appreciate it too.

I have always been a storyteller. Came from a family of storytellers. Stories are what make us who we are.

And yet, when I looked to the world of stories and books, I rarely saw myself reflected in the stories of others. And when I looked back at what a lot of people think of as “the good old days,” I came to the realization that if I was going to tell stories from an era, I had to be true to that era.

The Eastern Townships of my youth, in the 1970’s and 1980’s, contained all of the bucolic beauty you might expect. But it was also a hardscrabble place, filled with political turmoil, racism, dirt and grit.

Welcome to Townships Noir

On this site you’ll see much more than just me trying to sell books. News, author stuff, local history and folklore, maybe even some fresh short fiction. I plan to be experimenting, so please come back often.

You never know what you’ll find.