The Life of a Curling Writer: Not always easy to convince editors that curling is a story worth telling

Action at the Fergus Curling Club (Photo Jean Mills)

I'm a curler, yes, but I'm also a writer, and writing about something you love has got to be the best way to spend your time. (Getting paid for it is nice, too, which happens sometimes...)

One story I really want to write about is curling families - you know, all those grassroots and elite curlers who are out there on the ice with various combinations of family members. I pitched this story to Reader's Digest a year ago and after some initial excitement (why wouldn't they be excited; it's a great story!) they turned it down. I had Russ Howard on board to talk about his own family's experiences, and Joan McCusker was lined up, too. The story died. Sometimes I hate freelancing.

But, where there's a will...

As the editor of my local freelance writer's blog (the Guelph Chapter of the Professional Writers Association of Canada), I'm in charge of posting content. So when Around the House, the blog I write for the Canadian Curling Association, went live today, I quickly posted a blurb (which I've included below for anyone interested in the perils of the writing life) about my rejected-story experience. My writing friends got to read about the writing side of the story, and at the CCA website, my curling community gets to read about why curling really is an "all in the family" sport.

Win, win.

Curling and writing: I could do this for a living....

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Some of my Guelph PWAC colleagues heard my sad story last year of a pitch to Reader's Digest that started out full of promise and went suddenly to the "Sorry, not interested" file - after I had put two increasingly detailed proposals together, at RD's request. That's a lot of work - unpaid, of course.

My story about curling being a family affair originally caught the attention of RD editors, especially when I secured the support of Olympic gold medallists Russ Howard and Joan McCusker. Both Russ and Joan have great stories which exemplify curling's unique qualities as a family-oriented sport. RD was interested. "Very" interested, in fact. Emails were flying between me and my sources, me and the RD editors. Proposals, interviews, encouragement and excitement from all parties.

And then, out of the blue, the phrase that freelance writers never want to hear: "No thanks." Darn. 

Glenn Howard in action (Photo Jean Mills)

But all was not lost. A recent interview with a curler who is going to a national championship with his dad on the team got me thinking. I resurrected the "all in the family" idea and blogged about it for my weekly gig with the Canadian Curling Association. It's not quite the story I set out to write for RD, but it sure captures the essence of it. Curling really is a family affair.  You can read it (and see a photo of two generations of smiling Howards) here:

Around the House: All in the family at the curling club

Curling Club Bonspiels: Good Play, Good Name Tags

I remember when I was really little, my mom would head out to her Ladies' bonspiels and come home with a prize (usually) and a cool name tag.  No sticky pre-fabs proclaiming "Hello, My Name Is..."  No, the bonspiels she went to were organized by old-school traditionalists who knew how to do it right. Name tags in the shape of Scottish tams, or flowers, or curling stones, or brooms. All hand-made and worth keeping - which my mom did, for years.

I confess, when I started curling years later, I was tickled to see that at most of the Ladies' bonspiels I attended had the same vision. Cool name tags.  It was one of the things that cemented my already-strong loyalty to the game I had come to love.

But it wasn't just the name tags: it was the crazy, fun, creative, often silly mood that surrounded many of the bonspiels I played in, both Ladies' and Mixed.

There are lots of theories about where the term "bonspiel" derives from, including this detailed and entertaining theory from Bill Casselman's Word of the Day. I like to think it's all about a good (bon) game (spiel) - a mixture of French and German words on some long-ago frozen pond in Scotland.

So take a good game, set it on ice, stir in a strong expectation of fun and food, and you have a bonspiel. That's what I saw at the WGF Continental Cup last week (and you can read my blog about that at Around The House, on the Canadian Curling Association site) and that's what I look for when I see those event posters fluttering up and down the big bulletin board outside the change rooms at my club. These are not playdowns, these are not important competitions.  These are bonspiels: good games. Good friends. Good fun.

Good name tags, too.

Curling Clubs: Not just ice and rocks

Check out Danny Lamoureux’s most recent Business of Curling blog at the Canadian Curling Association for an amazing article written by the University of Waterloo’s Heather Mair on the role of curling clubs in their communities.

Most curlers know that the club is more than just a building with a few sheets of ice, a bar, a kitchen and a club room. It’s the place where wedding receptions and funeral wakes are held, where Stag and Doe parties, bridge parties, and family gatherings take place. Curling clubs – especially in smaller communities across the country – are often the hub around which the local social scene turns.

Dr. Mair has been travelling across the country visiting clubs and talking to the people who use them. Her research seems to indicate that in Canada, curling is more than a sport; it’s a culture. We knew that. And it’s a culture worth examining.

(Photo: jhembach Creative Commons)

New Season: Time for a change

Sometimes when I step on the ice, I feel as if I’m heaving a rock through the snow, just like the guys in this picture (taken around 1890 in Fergus, Ontario).

Last season, our club team won less than half of its games. We struggled with our weight – on what is admittedly pretty inconsistent ice – our sweeping calls, even our strategy at times.  We were being beaten by teams that we should have walked over.  As vice, I couldn’t believe how many times I kicked the rocks back to the boards at the conclusion of an end while watching my opponent put up the score – end, after end, after end.

And then, suddenly and unpredictably, we’d have a great game.  Solid deliveries, perfect calls, stolen ends galore.  Unfortunately those nights were few and far between. The really frustrating part of it all was not knowing why we were doing so poorly.  Previous years we’d been in the playoffs, were a team to be reckoned with.

What happened?

I think we were just stale.  My skip decided to take this season off to focus on hockey, so I decided it was time for a change too.  Not a year off, but a move.  Across town to a ladies’ league in a larger club. 

Yes, it will be a big change.  For one thing, I’m used to competing and socializing with the boys.  And I’m also used to the relaxed, small-town feel of our little 4-sheeter. This is the big time: 8 sheets of ice in a club that has turned out provincial champions (not that the Business Womens’ Monday Night Social League will include a full roster of elite curlers, of course!).  It will be a different environment, a different feel. A change.

And I’m a firm believer that a change can provide a much-needed jolt. New faces, new ice, new feel – new curling experiences. That’s exactly what I hope will rejuvenate my game.

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?