This is the Jackson Pollock site. You can splatter and splorch to your heart's content. And no mess!

Or...you can check out this, an also not-so-new-but-oh-so-cool site. While this is a bit of a navigational challenge, if you're in a meandering, discovering mood, the site lends itself to pretty fancy flash work and some dazzling quotes.

There is a provocative exhibition on at Gallery Connexion: Tokyo Hotel Story by Nathalia Daoust is a collection of photographic portraits of women whose chosen profession is that of dominatrix. Now there's a bit of a shocker for our town... But wait... In Japanese culture, couples enjoy their love making away from home, in a more private and less confined setting. The phenomenon of the "love hotel" has expanded over time to sprout themed hotels — Hello Kitty hotels, animée hotels.

Daoust's career as a photographer has taken her to some intriguing places: South America, New York, Switzerland, Tokyo. In each of these venues she has insinuated herself into a sexually charged environment and gained the trust and friendship of the women who work there. She is no voyeur. She has pushed beyond her own preconceptions and prejudices and invites us to do the same. The common theme of her work is the subversion of the sexual stereotype. The imagery itself manifests different explorations of texture and tone. All of her work is shot on film and developed in the darkroom, a challenge in itself in these days of digital imagery.

Daoust is unassuming, charming, and pretty low-key. I was fascinated that a young women from suburban Montreal would be inclined to spend moths at a time in a sado-masochism-themed hotel . . . but then, there are my own preconceptions on display. Her artist's talk was so interesting and the photographs are beautiful. Go. Challenge yourself.

We all like books right?

There is so much great work out there to read and I always find myself stricken with the same agonizing decision every time I reach the end of a book…now what?

With so many to choose from, my usual process is to go through our shelves and make a stack of 10 – 15 books that are potentials for my next adventure. The process of narrowing it down to one can be rather stressful as I want to read everything; it seems like they all have the possibility of being the greatest thing I’ve ever read. Sometimes my way of picking my book happens through a process of elimination after reading the first 5 pages of each book in the stack and eventually ending up at the winner…this process can potentially take hours. Other times I’ve pulled book titles out of a hat, flipped a coin, asked for reviews/suggestions from friends or picked one blindly out of the pile. All of these methods seem to work and I usually end up with something that is perfect for that moment in time - but it’s a new year and I’ve already thrown caution to the wind by uprooting my life , moving back to my homeland of New Brunswick and taking on an exciting new position here at Goose Lane Editions so I figured I may as well change up how I pick books to read as well.

My new method…I am reading from A-Z. I am going to start with a book written by an “A” author and work my way through the alphabet. I also decided to make my challenge a little more exciting by stimulating my inner art/design nerd and creating a bookmark for each book I read this year. It is going to be a tough challenge for sure as we are more than halfway through January now and I am just getting started but I’m ready for the challenge and now that I have publicized this task in the blogosphere it will be more of an epic fail if I don’t make it to the end by the end of 2012.

For my “A” book I will be reading “The Year of the Flood” by the always-great Margaret Atwood. I have slowly begun the process of picking my books for each author but welcome any feedback or suggestions that anyone may have. I especially hope someone has a suggestion for an “X” author since I’m not having much luck finding anything under that letter so far.

I am really looking forward to the upcoming year of great reads and (fingers crossed) some great artwork as well.

Until next time, happy reading!

Ah, the author reading.

It has destroyed more than one well-meaning writer. The reading, the public performance, is a cause of much angst for many. Which part should I read? Am I expected to answer questions? What if no one asks questions? What if no one shows up? And most often: Why is all this even necessary?

Valid questions. Many authors have carved out careers without public appearances, at least later on in life (I'm sure even Thomas Pynchon did a few in his youth). But when you are starting out, the reading can be an invaluable tool to link your face and voice to your product. Sorry to be so unromantic about it, but there it is. You are selling yourself as well as your book, and although you may hate it, in this age of twit-feeds and facebooking, getting a favourable response to a reading can really help spread your novel about.

From the point of view of an author, I'm of the mind that there is no such thing as a truly bad reading, as even ones that go careening off the rails can offer you some valuable insights. My first reading, my book launch, I read to seventy people, and I thought, "Well, this ain't half-bad." At the last reading I did a few years ago, there was one person in the audience besides my parents, who luckily were in town that week. But you give it your all, you soldier through, because that one person may purchase a book, and tell their friends. I once went to another reading, of an author I particularly admire, that was sparsely attended, so sparsely that after his reading, he invited the two of us for some drinks. Expecting a simple signing, I got instead an in-depth one-on-one discussion with him on literature and writing, and we still keep in touch (Hi, Eric!).

From the POV of a publicist, I die a little when an author is presented with a less-than-impressive number of listeners. You want your author to feel like the world is at their feet, that they are the next incarnation of Shakespeare, but all the flattery in the world can't disguise the fact that the only people in the audience are an elderly woman crocheting a scarf, a bookstore employee, and a bored reporter from the local student paper. And they're all in the back row. But you cannot prepare for every contingency; even the best publicists have been waylaid by weather, or influenza outbreaks, or competing events.

But you can't quit, so here are some hints to make the best of it:

1. Be lively. I don't mean flail about like a cartoon Tasmanian devil, but try to avoid reading down into your manuscript in a dull monotone. Look up, let them see your pretty face. Make eye contact. And choose a reading that accents your strengths as a performer. It really is acting, and while you don't need to become a clown up there, the more relaxed the better.
2. Practice. Use friends and spouses to rehearse with. Try to get your readings sounding as natural as possible. Not everyone can do it, but even minimal preparation on your part will go a long way toward keeping your audence's interest level up.
3. Read your audience. If they are bored, or distracted, you might want to cut the reading short and start up a Q&A, or move on to another, more exciting scene to read. One of the worst readings I have ever attended was by a national award-winning author whose book won just about every award we have. He stood, and droned, and droned, and droned, and by the ten-minute mark people were fidgetting, by the twenty-minute they were looking at the exits, and by the forty-minute mark they were all silently screaming "STOP! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY, STOP AND TAKE A QUESTION!"
4. Be friendly. You aren't just reading, you are connecting to potential fans. I once read a lengthy blog post about a reading by an author whom I admire, and the blogger was far less than adoring. The author was described as surly, and resentful to his audience, and clearly did not want to be there. As a result, he gets trashed online, and believe me, those things do get out. Even if you are in an absolutely foul mood, if your audience gets a whiff of it, you're in trouble. They came out to see you, and maybe buy a book, why risk alienating them? A reputation as approachable and friendly is always preferable to surly. If you must, at least wait until you're so famous your books sell on your name alone. Then you can play up the role of the frustrated and misunderstood artiste to your heart's content.
5. Be prepared. To end on a fun note, know that your reading will never be as bad as this one, a reading from Newsradio, wherein insane billionaire Jimmy James had his book translated to Japanese and back, and never read the result.

It's not easy to survive as an author. Very few can do it solely for a living, and even those who do are constantly having to work on many different fronts to keep up.

Jeff Vandermeer knows this. Having been a writer for over twenty-five years, Jeff — whom I have previously blogged about here in relation to his wonderful guide to living the author's life Booklife — has in a recent blog of his own outlined some of the main things he's had to learn to survive. They're often funny, but all completely true:

Friendship is more important than career advancement. Even beyond the obvious reasons why you shouldn’t screw over your friends, the practical, cynical truth is that very few things that seem important at the time will turn out to be important over time. (I’m not someone who screws over friends anyway—it’s more that I get so busy, I wind up not having time for old friends as much as I should.)

Read the rest of Jeff's valuable tips here.

In a former life, I was known as a hockey historian. In the opinion of the Toronto Star, I still am. Who knew?

Haters needed: The Maple Leafs and NHL could use a few more rivalries

Is there a point to tweeting, from an author's POV? Yes, it can be a huge timesuck, and sometimes it's nice to check out the latest viral phenomena (I believe this week it's a YouTube video of a squirrel caught in a submarine, or possibly a badger shredding a Volkswagon). But does anyone really benefit from your tweets about your next event, or the newest 5-star review from eyeluvbooks.com?

With all that's out there, is anybody reading you?

Odds are, no. Tweets are fleeting, the Internet equivalent of shouting information at the Super Bowl. Sure, the guy in front of you may like what you said, even nudge his pal to pass it on, but it's statistically impossible that the folks on the other side of the field are ever going to know you exist.

But you can increase your odds. A little fact-checking around the web results in scores of tips and hints to help you move your information on.

Here's a few ideas, but you'll easily find more.

1. Make your Twitter presence visible. Link to your Twitter account from Facebook, Google+, LinkedIn, and your blog, as well as in your business and personal email signatures, depending on whom you want to reach. How else will your friends and close contacts know to follow you?
2. Tweet on topic. Yes, everyone loves to vent and/or pass along photos of kittens (the Internet is made of cats, after all), but you need to remember why you're there. If you're tweeting to tell everyone the status of your book and publisher, great. If you find you are making up most of your tweets with rants about the quality of service at WalMart, you've gone off course.
3. Add value. Don't post garbage. To build your reputation on Twitter, give people something they won't find elsewhere. You'll have to think about what's valuable—interesting, compelling, humorous, helpful, informative—to your followers based on your theme.
4. Use hashtags. Hashtags are the "pound" (#) symbol that precede a word or string of words in Twitter. If your theme is writing, include "#writing" in some of your tweets; anyone searching for that term will see your posts. Whatever keywords relate to your theme, turn them into hashtags. Selectively follow people who use the same tags. Start building up your own community.
5. Be selective. Don't be someone who clicks 'follow' on every person or organization you find. Seek out those who will want to hear what you have to say. It's easy to follow 10,000 people; it's much harder to have 10,000 people follow you.

There are literally hundreds more ideas, but this should get you started.

When my father turned 83, I encouraged him to put on paper some of the stories he was fond of telling about his childhood growing up on the Mirimichi River. He wrote a short story a week until his death a decade later, and each of them were sharp slices of insight and keen observations of life before and after World War I. This one has a certain charm and timely theme. From the legendary pen of LJ Duplacey.

Christmas Does Grow on Trees

Amid mutters and grumbles, the stores in New Brunswick are now allowed to open on Sunday until Christmas Eve. The Yule time season keeps lengthening out and many don’t like it.

But the early start to the Christmas season is nothing new. I remember my father starting to scout for our Christmas tree around the middle of October. Being surrounded by thousands of fine firs, it was unthinkable that you would buy one. Dad would find the tree of his choice and mark it for pick-up a week before Christmas. There was an unwritten code of honour that you did not steal another man’s tree. The odd one that did was deemed to be a degenerate and branded as a “Companion of the Brotherhood of Satan”.

The tree was set up in our parlor a few days before Christmas. Trimmed with homemade ornaments, strings of popcorn and dozens of tiny candles attached with clips. The candles were for show only, of course. They were never lit, God forbid.

The door to the parlor was closed until Christmas morning when we all trooped in to see it. The room was as cold as an open grave. After a few "ooh’s" and "ahh’s", we hightailed it out of there before we were frostbitten.

When my brother Harry was old enough, he took over the responsibility of bringing in the tree. When he left for the USA to seek his fortune, I was next in line.

It was quite a task for a youngster barely into his teens. The tree had to be a certain size, height and it had to “smell” like a Christmas tree. I figured that the size and height would pose no problem, but the smell had me perplexed. All doubts were erased when I discovered the odor came naturally, thanks to the wild life in the area. I was warned that if I came up short in any of the required elements, I would be in for a long trip back to the woods.

On my first trip, I was accompanied by two chums, Eddie McBride and Frank Elkin. Frank later became Father Frank, and I have a sneaking suspicion that it was this adventure that turned his thoughts to God. I was busy cutting a tree when a sudden screech filled the air. Frank had cut, and almost severed, Eddie’s hand with his axe. Deep in the woods and miles from town, we were lucky to meet a woodsman nearby. Eddie was taken by sleigh to the nearest doctor. He was able to save the hand, but not without leaving it marred by a horrible scar. Some nit, with no wit, labelled him Scar-Hand Eddie, a nickname that stuck with him until his untimely and tragic death while still a teenager.

There was an unofficial contest at Christmas every year for the best decorated tree. It was won year after year by the Hay family. I saw their tree several times, and indeed it was a winner. Set up in the middle of the room, decorated from floor to ceiling and on all sides. A nit, with some wit, suggested if Eddie’s limb had been severed, we could have hung it on our tree and won the top honor hands down.

I lost my assignment as Christmas tree procurer when I left to take my first job as a Morse operator in Campbellton. Then it was Gerry’s turn. I never did return to the woods to pick out a tree, but I am still decorating them.

Well,  the pace has finally slowed a little, the hours are trickling past, the stockings are all knit, and ready to hang by the fire. I jest! No such craftiness from me this Christmas. It's been one H-E-double-hockey-sticks of a year. The last of the season's books have now shipped from the printer, and the titles in hand just keep flying out the door. Sweet!

I'd like to say a big "Thank-you" to all those unnamed elves who toil at the plant on our behalf. We have so many good friends in the trade and their skill and professionalism make us look our best.

This year has been challenging with changes in staff and blockbuster season to boot. Those of us who've been in the choral these past 9 months — we'll, we've quite a few bouncing books to show for our labout. Thanks team for working so hard and for keeping your spirits up. Don't know that a break has ever been more deserved.

I look forward to the new year and brand new crop of stellar talent.

Best wishes for the season.

It's a brave new world, and if you're going to survive (from a literary perspective), you're going to have to strap on the ol' virtual reality helmet (patent pending) and start weblogging.

Weblogging, or "blogging" in the parlance of the youngfolk, is the act of putting your diaries up for everyone to read. Well, for some people it is. For others, it is a chance to get you and your book known to readers beyond your immediate circle of friends. But not just your own blog, I'm talking about the still-in-its-infancy-stage world of blog book tours.

Simply put, there are a lot of blogs and websites out there, and many of them cater to people whom you fervently believe would purchase your novel if only they knew of its existence. A Blog Book Tour (similar to a book tour, except you never have to leave the comfort of your ratty bathrobe, don't pretend you don't have one) is a virtual tour of the many blogs and book-related sites your suspected readers inhabit.

How to break into this new realm of wonder and marketing? Simple. Start contacting people. Make a list of the blogs and sites you like, and write them. Tell them about yourself, about your book. They may want to do an interview, or have you do a few blogposts of your own, or perhaps a virtual chat via instant messenger. Or maybe they'll just want a book to review, which is a good thing in and of itself.

The key thing is, start up a list, and make those contacts. But don't simply write every blog; be selective. Dig. What is the reach of any one blog? Is there any real readership? Or is there a reason why a smaller blog might take precedence over a more popular one? Do the research, and make your pitch. Give them topics you could write about, topics corollary to your work. And have fun; you want the blog audience to get a taste of who you are, and why they might enjoy your work. Don't come across like an old crank (unless the blog in question is oldcrankauthors.com).

Only 25 more days until Ho-Ho commits innumerable counts of breaking-and-entering. ’Tis the time of year when one gets nostalgic for home and family and childhood. Who can forget the agonizingly long days in December leading up to Christmas when each day seemed to be a week long? The waiting actually began in September when the Christmas catalogue came, and it seemed almost a daily activity to go through each brightly coloured page of toys and make and remake and remake the Christmas list.

But it didn’t feel like Christmas until after the first snow, which, when I was young (I’m not that old, really), came anytime after Halloween (and sometimes before). Then there was the day when we bought Karnes bread and could hardly wait until the loaf was gone because it had cutouts on the package of the Nativity scene that you could dampen and put on your window. I couldn’t tell you how many times during the season those cutouts got rearranged.

The next big milestone was getting the Christmas tree. Sometimes we’d go along (and anyone who’s seen Christmas Vacation and remembers the search for the perfect tree scene can certainly relate). The decorations were the same year by year (though inevitably at least one bulb broke per season). I miss the days of the multi-coloured tinsel that is no longer in fashion (my mother doesn’t I’m sure — nor would anyone who had a cat).

The visits to and visiting of grandparents and relatives on the days leading up to Christmas always meant hugs and laughs and the inevitable trays of cookies and squares and peanut butter balls (it also involved fruit cake, which I’m strangely proud to say I’ve never tried).

Then came Christmas Eve — was there a harder night, ever, to get to sleep? It was endless. And the morning seemed like it would never come. Every year, we’d try to figure out a new way to sneak into the living room so we could see what Santa brought, but we were always caught. And it seemed like we tried to get up earlier and earlier every year.

Finally the time would come for the big reveal. Out we’d trot in our pajamas and slippers, heedless of any cold. And there was always a moment of silence when we saw the Christmas tree all lit up and the presents all arranged underneath.

And today? Christmas loses a bit of magic when you get older. But, for me anyway, there’s still the magic of giving. Most years, unless there’s something I really wanted for Christmas, I’m much more excited to see if the present I bought is something that the person I’ve bought it for is really happy to get. I also enjoy the pre-Christmas activities a bit more than when I was a kid. Christmas Eve supper at my sister’s, the cedary smell of the pews in the church for the Christmas Eve service, coming home and getting in our pajamas and watching Christmas Vacation.

Though it seems early, I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas this year. Let the long December days of waiting begin!! 

I can't quite believe that it's almost December! We've got all but one title put to bed and the rest are either on the shelves or about to be put there. Ahhhhh!

Today is the first day for our designer Jaye Haworth to wake up in the country, and not come in to the office! Yes, it's a sad truth that love has won out over the satisfying work at Goose Lane, but we couldn't be happier for Jaye and Dave. Here's to a second cup of coffee before you have to stoke the stove again!

I'll have more news later on the new hire. It'll be a busy few weeks flying solo until then. Tally-ho!

Not the hair salon, but  SALON CONNEX, a new collaboration between Fredericton's artist-run centre Gallery Connexion and the Charlotte Street Arts Centre. The salon is a public discussion forum aimed at exploring the very big topic of what art might mean.

I had the good fortune of acting as moderator for a small but mightily engaged and thoughtful group. We shared all manner of perspective on the theme of conceptual art, inspired by the installation work of Lenka Novakova whose work River is on display at Gallery Connexion for another 10 days. Go! See it.

I'm looking forward to round 2 of Salon Connex.

but instead, I'm here at my desk with the first snow storm of the season falling at my back. I'm disappointed to miss out on an evening at the AGO celebrating the publication of Jack Chambers. I've had the good fortune of being immersed in Chambers' artwork and life story since we initiated this co-publishing project with the AGO late in 2010. I had my introduction to the stunning work which graces the cover of the book when I first moved to Fredericton in the arly 1980s. It took my breath away then, and my appreciation of Chambers' has only deepened.

Dennis, Jim, Sandy and the entire team, cheers!

According to Heraclitus, the only thing that endures is change, and so here we are, with a sleek new website and a glossy new blog.

What can you expect from us? We somewhat immodestly like to think that our books are large, to borrow a thought from Walt Whitman. From the origins of this little company more than 50 years ago, they have been invitations to explore, to investigate, to discover new shades of understanding.

There are literally thousands, if not millions, of influences that contribute to the creation of every book, every poem, every story. Each one has been shaped by the world that has come before it and, in some notable instances, they have shaped the world that follows.

And so beginning today, in addition to offering great books by great writers, we’ll be offering marginalia, discursive meanderings, and oblique ramblings about these worlds of influence, both here and in our sister blog, Branta. Read on and return.

It's a little like sending your child off to their first day of school. There's a lot of emotional preamble and preparation — research into the options, testing the waters, visits to the playground, rounding up the supply list — and then day arrives and off they go!

After months of squeezing this web project in around equally important but more deadline-oriented projects, and after much musing about the type of experience we wanted to offer our friends and followers, we are thrilled to finally share "out loud".

The SWAG section of the site will be revealed in the near future. We're excited about sharing book related items and little whimsies from people we know that we think you will enjoy.

Here's a monster shout-out to Ryan Valdron whose commitment to the functionality of this behemoth has been extraordinary, and to Jaye Haworth whose engaging sense of design graces these pages. Thanks, too, to all the reviewers of the secret site.

Cheers!

By now, I know the drill inside and out; an author has delivered unto us a completed manuscript, full of hopes, dreams, ambitions, and truth. Having been accepted into the rarified sphere of published authors, our hero then sits back and awaits the accolades and awards that will most surely come, while the publicist fearlessly braves the waters of the media to ensure that the novel (a masterpiece, we are sure) gains popular acceptance.

Well, maybe it was that way, once, when the printing press was new, when newspapers were king, when John Updike could expect to feed his family for a month by selling a short story to The New Yorker. On a related note, dinosaurs once ruled the earth. By this I mean, times change. I don't wish to throw cold water on any aspiring Pynchons and Atwoods, but getting a book accepted by a publishing house is only the second step up a very long ladder. The first step, of course, is writing a book, but I'll leave that to you.

Nowadays, with the advent of the Internet and the deluge of social media options, getting a book noticed is more difficult than ever. A publicity department will do what it can, but when a single publicist can be expected to take on between 30 and 40 books a year (and that's a small number compared to the big houses), tending to every possible avenue of promotion can be overwhelming. A publicist will work with you to unearth contacts you may not have considered, and will pitch you to as many reviewers and festivals and awards as he or she can think of. We will get your face out there for readings. Yet there are only so many hours in a day, and so many pennies in a dollar. Authors can expect to do a fair amount of promotion on their own if they wish to maximize their reach.

Do not despair; this can be a step as simple as starting a Twitter account, Facebook page, or Website/Blog. No publicist is going to force you to participate in something you are not comfortable with. But the reality is, the more ways you have of getting your name, face, and book noticed, the better the reception is going to be. You are going to have to use every contact you have, and strive to make new ones to exploit for personal gain. Writing is an art: publicity is a business.

Luckily, there are several books available that help new and established authors better mine their resources and brand their image. I recommend Jeff Vandermeer's clear-headed and informative Booklife as a valuable guide to the many avenues available, and the many pitfalls you can avoid with a little forethought. I wish I'd had Booklife on my shelf when I began my personal journey into publishing, and as I gain more perspective on the industry, I am finding his advice to be invaluable. Jeff (I can call him Jeff, we're Facebook friends: see what a little web networking can accomplish?) is an established and award-winning author who crams more work into one day than most people could accomplish in a month. Jeff offers timely advice on questions such as How can authors use social media and the internet? How does the new online paradigm affect authors, readers, and the book industry? How can authors find the time to both create and promote their work? and What should never be done? Jeff covers topics such as personal space versus public space, deadlines, and the benefits of interacting with readers through new technologies.

(He also covers how to write a novel in two months, which is not something I recommend for the faint of heart or the lackadaisical of structure.)

Don't be alarmed: you've written a book and gotten a publisher! A feat unachieved by over 90% of all writers! You should be very proud, and I heartily recommend that you revel in the feeling of true accomplishment that is washing over your soul. Feels good, doesn't it? Take a few moments for yourself, you've earned it.

Now, get back to work. Even Margaret Atwood tweets.

In the brief window I have between job A and job B I get to see about 5-8 minutes of sunlight.  Soon that will be about 5-8 minutes of twilight.  But what my days have been lacking in photosynthesis my evenings have been replenishing with energy from writing.  That may not be a revelation to most of you reading on a press website, but other than a decade plus of review and music writing, my playing with words has been confined to the editing side of the fence for some time.  Whether it has been reconnecting with good friends for whom creativity is central, rediscovering old favourites that have been gathering dust on my bookshelf or just the critical mass that's been slowly building... I am working here in the dark... eager to let you in to have a peek if you'd like.  Stay tuned.

A secret strain of Goose Lane's local lineage was put proudly on display on All Hallows Eve as Harrison House, an esteemed co-ed residence located on the University of New Brunswick campus, held their 39th annual Great Pumpkin Sacrifice to the delight of hundreds of spectators. Serenaded by gothic Gregorian chants, solemn ancient prayer and thundering Bach-like organ concertos, the massive orange orb was carried on its funeral pyre from pillar to post around the campus before being ceremoniously lit and sacrificially boosted, booted and bounced off the Harrison House residence's library roof in a blazing glow of glory, surrounded by a guardian gathering of black-cloaked students and half-baked alumni.

Goose Lane's connection to the event was historical in its context but significant in its content. The first gargantuan gourd to be dipped into the denizen of doom and paraded in the ring of fire was once perilously perched on the windowsill of Room 101. That room's freshmen occupants – Dr. Marc Milner and Mr. James Duplacey – have translated their love of lunacy into a love of literature, Marc as an honoured author of several Goose Lane titles and James as the Managing Editor of the company.

What began in 1973 as a trick, has, 39 years later, become a treat.

The other evening I happened to stop by a local location of liquid libation to enjoy a glass of Merlot and bask in the comforting sounds of bluegrass/folk musician Jens Jeppesen. I was unfamiliar with Mr. Jeppesen's music, but he immediately intrigued me with a simply marvelous version of Jesus on the Mainline, an obscure hymn (of sorts) recorded by the incomparable Ry Cooder in the 1970's. Mr. Jeppesen and I spoke briefly after the performance and as our discussion meandered from lyrics to lineage, we discovered a common bond beyond music.

He informed me that he was originally from New Denmark, which happens to be the same village that my wife's family is from. When I mentioned that her father's name is Donald Bertelsen, a noted educator who is still highly regarded for his skills as an aviator, Mr. Jeppesen's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. He carefully recounted that he had recently returned from visit to Trenton, Ontario, where he was researching the war record for his great aunt's brother, whose name was, coincidently, Freddy Bertelsen. This information uncorked the historian in me and I was able to uncover a unique connection that unites these two families. With Remembrance Day right around the corner, it's only fitting that a wartime sacrifice is the link that binds the chain. Mr. Bertelsen's uncle, Albert, was the first Canadian soldier to return home from the Western front during the Great War after losing a leg in battle. Albert's daughter Helen married a man named Jeppesen while his son Freddy joined the Air Force and was killed during World War II. As it turns out, Mr. Bertelsen had recently visited the Lancaster Museum in Nanton, Alberta, where a plaque has been dedicated to every airman who lost his life in the sky over France, including Freddy Bertelsen, cousin and comrade.

On Friday, November 11, Goose Lane will launch Steel Calvary - The 8th (New Brunswick) Hussars and the Italian Campaign - the latest edition in its esteemed New Brunswick Military Heritage Project series. On that day, I will be celebrating the memory of all those brave men and women who gave their lives to make our lives better, a reflection made distinctly more special by a chance meeting with a talented musician who helped equal the degrees of separation between family and new-found friends.