Abby and the Curling Chicks: Curling fiction on the way

All the attention that women’s curling garnered at the Olympics lit a flame (ha ha) under me to get working on some projects that have been lying around untended for a while.

A number of years ago I published a novel for teens called Abby and the Curling Chicks, a story aimed at a group of curling girls in a small town in Ontario. Using my experiences running a junior program at the Vankleek Hill Curling Club, I told the tale of Abby Chisholm who agrees, reluctantly, to join a junior program at the local club in exchange for attending a summer writing program. (Hmm, a girl who curls and writes – sounds somewhat autobiographical…) Of course, Abby and her friends turn very quickly from being ho-hum to being gung-ho, with thrills and spills along the way. The book sold very well through Goldline Curling Supplies, as well as through the Canadian Curling Association online store. A niche story for a niche market.

Readers have asked me when there’s going to be a sequel, and my response has always been “I’m working on it.” But now I can say yes, really, I am. With the recent post-Olympics rise in attention to curling – in particular women’s curling – I think it’s time I really got down to work. I’ve got six chapters written on the next installment of Abby’s story, tentatively titled Abby and the Curling Chicks: Trouble in the House.

Not only that, but my story about a Little Rocker named PT McReady, who “shoots the lights out” is underway as well.

And don’t get me started talking about the mystery I’m writing, set in a small town curling club where everyone knows everyone, and secrets abound…but be warned: I don’t do blood very well, so it will be a “cozy” mystery rather than a hard-boiled, gritty police drama.

The possibilities are endless for curling fiction, and I’m on the job. Stay tuned to Grassroots Curling for updates. If you’re interested in reading Abby and the Curling Chicks, you can order it through Pugwash Publishers.

TV Scribe praises the attractions of women curlers at the Olympics, and I’m ok with that

Curling takes a lot of abuse. Boring, watching paint dry/grass grow, not an Olympic sport – these are some of the comments thrown our way by the uninitiated.

But Globe and Mail TV columnist John Doyle has an open mind. Readers know that soccer is his game, but he’s not above giving a few plugs for curling. Now, John is approaching the game as a TV critic, remember, so his take on curling has much to do with the visual rather than the sporting aspects of our sport. And he finds lots to comment on about curling as a TV sport: in particular, the attractions of women curlers. Remember the whole Colleen Jones thing a few years ago?

He’s moved on, and today’s article in the Globe and Mail is worth a look.

OK, so he has to make the “hard, harder” joke. Yes, yes, very funny. But he also refers to our “dead cool” Canadian team, led by Cheryl Bernard, and makes an indignant reference to the deadbeat who stole Miriam Ott’s uniform and curling shoes from the team van in Winnipeg. In other words, it’s not all “poke fun at the curlers” in today’s article.

In fact, he gets it absolutely right: “Tuesday’s Canada-Switzerland matchup was thrilling. A tense, tricky 5-4 victory for Canada,” Doyle writes.

Now, I wonder if he noticed that wonderful moment when Bernard accidently stopped a Swiss rock after a take-out, and Ott – in the spirit of curling that is unmatched by any other sport – simply moved the stopped rock to where she thought it might have rolled to: the back of the 12-foot. Ott could have chosen to leave her rock in the 4-foot, where it might have counted in the score. That’s her right as the non-offending skip in a burned rock situation. But of course, she didn’t. And she lost the game by 1 point.

Women curlers are great to watch, John; you’re absolutely right.

And if you want to check out some great photos of men and women curlers at the Olympics, check out the VANOC curling site, here.

Olympic Competition, Grassroots Style

We Canadians all hope the final game in the Olympic Curling competition comes down to Kevin Martin's last rock (against Great Britain's David Murdoch probably). And (of course) we all hope that the rock doesn't slide a couple of inches deep, as it did the last time Kevin had a shot at the gold medal.

(On that occasion, our entire Monday Night Curling League at the Guelph Country Club dropped our brooms and came into the club room to watch the final rocks of the last end. When it was over, and we had recovered a little, I found it very hard to return to my game. The disappointment was so intense - and I was just a lowly club curler watching it on TV in Ontario. I couldn't begin to imagine what Kevin and his team were feeling...)

So here's to Olympic curling, and the hours and hours and HOURS of practice and competition and dedication it took these athletes to get there. Those of us who have dabbled in competitive curling might understand how tough it is. So few of us actually get to those elite levels. That's ok, though, Grassroots Curlers. Competition is competition - a test of skills, both physical and mental - no matter what level you compete at.

My short-lived career as a "competitive" curler happened in the small town of Vankleek Hill, in Eastern Ontario. I joined a team with three other novices and we entered bonspiels and events intended expressly for "new" curlers with less than 3 or 5 years' experience. We had a blast travelling around to clubs in our region and as far away as Ottawa and Montreal.

And we won our share too! See us proudly holding our trophy at the Navan Curling Club near Ottawa, some time in the early 1990s (I'm second from the right). And we posed on the ice with our competitors at the Lachine Curling Club after winning some other event. That's me, far right, looking pretty cool in my team jacket and (fashionistas, please turn away now) hat.


So cheer for Kevin (or John, or David, or Cheryl, or Annette - whoever draws your Olympic allegiance) but don't forget to dream your own competitive curling dreams, no matter what modest heights you achieve.

Handshakes on the way out?

Today’s Globe and Mail reports that athletes at the Vancouver Olympic Games will be advised to avoid touching other athletes, especially shaking hands or giving high fives. The picture accompanying the article showed Shannon Kleibrink high-fiving one of her teammates, but even the recreational curlers (at left) know the drill.

This non-contact initiative is an effort to combat the spread of flu. Makes sense, but…

Since every game starts and ends with handshakes, are curlers going to be the first ones to defy the “rules” and opt for the standard sign of respect in our sport? Just wondering.

(Photo courtesy of Creative Commons)

Grassroots Curling: What is it?

When were you introduced to curling?

CFB Downsview, the sixties. Sitting, bored and cranky, behind the glass watching my parents indulge in the sport they were passionate about. Another weekend at the club, another waste of time. There was no junior curling at this club, so we kids basically babysat ourselves. We were curling orphans.

"I will never, ever play this stupid sport," I vowed, images of endless afternoons and inattentive parents stamped in my memory.

Fast forward thirty years, to a young family moving to a new town. It's in the Ottawa Valley where winter comes early and lasts for month after cold, snowy month. How do people pass the time? They curl. Every town has its two-sheeter, or four-sheeter, or something bigger and fancier. Bonspiels abound every weekend from Halloween to Easter, and beyond. And there are two draws every night during the week (with games sometimes starting a bit late because we have to wait for the farmers to get in from milking). Winter passes in a flurry of social events, bonspiels, challenges for trophies and prizes - and the realization that my parents weren't crazy after all.

Curling. Most of us will never make it to the Brier or the Hearts or the World Championships or the Olympics. But who cares? We're all curlers, no matter what level we achieve. Every one of those champions - Canadian or international - started playing the game at the same place we did: the grassroots.

My grassroots curling was a friendly, competitive two-sheet club in a small Ottawa Valley town. What's yours?