Born: Victoria
Age: 30
Occupation: Interim director of marketing at UVic
Favourite authors: David Mitchell (Cloud Atlas)
Writing background: Avid reader since childhood, but a few specific books inspired him to begin writing as a hobby about five years ago. "The one that really got me going, 'This is something I want to try,' is called The Book Thief [by Markus Zusak]. ... Most of my favourite novels, a common thread throughout them is that they're not just typical beginning-middle-end, single-narrative-type stories. The thing that got me about The Book Thief is that it's actually narrated by the character of Death."
How often he writes: "It kind of comes in spurts, which, if you ask any writer, is terrible. ... At this stage of my life it's not something I do every day. I'll go through phases, maybe a month at a time, where I will write every single day. And then I might go through a phase where I don't write anything for a month."
Where he writes: Always at home, but in no particular nook or cranny. Preferred type or style of writing: Mostly reads novels, but has no genre preference. "I like things that are really focused on storytelling and unique ways of storytelling." Mostly writes short stories. "I don't have quite enough experience to attempt anything longer than that. But I would like to one day, absolutely."
On the inspiration for his submission: "It's kind of about noticing something you're not looking for. ... As a hobbyist photographer, that's definitely happened to me before. I have this idea in my head about what I want to shoot and I set it up. And as you look through the lens, either it doesn't work, or you just notice something completely different that would make a way more interesting photograph."
Fun fact: He gets his best story ideas when travelling. "For some reason, something about getting out of your usual routine - I find is inspiring for ideas."
HIS SUBMISSION: THE BACKGROUND
For eight seconds I'm somewhere else while looking through the lens of my camera trying to frame my shot. A heavily charred toy ferry. Someone has left it on top of a newspaper, which itself rests on top of a public garbage can. I adjust my focus, trying to get just the ferry, paper and lid in frame, when I notice in the top left corner of the background a little girl, eyes locked on what is presumably her mother. I feel my hand coast to the zoom and then adjust the focus. She stands facing me. Four, maybe five, wearing a pink slicker, darn the cloudless sky. On her head is a tilley hat with an outline of a seal and Vancouver Island written beneath it.
Her face, angled up to meet her mother's, fixes itself with a grin, one of those grins where all of her teeth are visible, including the gaps where there aren't any. I haven't taken the photo, yet the girl is completely still, her smile a frozen light. She looks nothing like Abby, except she looks everything like Abby because of that smile. It's a bridge to half my life ago, but it comes back stronger than a lost childhood smell, clearer than a forgotten song. Just like Abby's always did, her smile calls my own out.
I'm seeing these eight seconds through a lens. Fingerprints can obscure names, dust can cloud faces. If you're lucky though some things remain very much in focus.
