Watermark
Born in rural Nova Scotia near the Bay of Fundy, author
Christy Ann Conlin grew up listening to the heroic and moving tales of her
heritage.
“My father used to read me the poetry of William Butler Yeats, and my mother
recited Robbie Burns as we skipped through the fog on the beac,” she recalls. “Both
sides of the family told stories of selkies and merrows, creatures from the
sea.”
It was the delicate intricacies of these stories, and of
poetry - particularly the work of Seamus Heaney – along with the mystical lure
of Celtic mythology and stage play that first inspired young Conlin to put pen
to paper.
“I love how poetry evokes imagery, and how characters come to
life off the page through their dialogue - not just the words but the rhythm
and tone of their language and words. Today, I write also for the challenge of
trying new forms, of weaving together the traditional with innovation.”
Conlin has enjoyed a strong and successful career within the
Atlantic Canadian literary scene and is well-renown as the East Coast’s Master
of Gothic Fiction. While she is grateful for the accolades and awards, they can’t
compare with her real reason for writing.
“The biggest highlight for me is finishing a draft and knowing
I have a complete manuscript. And then, once it is done, holding that book in
my hands for the first time. From there, it is just knowing that - out there somewhere
- someone is holding my book and entering the story.
“There is a remarkable union between writer and reader.
Reading and writing are solitary acts, and in this solitude is a meeting of the
minds.”
The vocation, she admits, is not without its share of
challenges.
“It is very hard to make a living from fiction, especially
short stories. I am a part of the ‘sandwich generation’ - so I juggle young
children and elderly parents and relatives. Sometimes I feel almost ripped into
pieces by those responsibilities. Writing requires blocks of time and a quiet
mind. It is a constant quest to find this, and a fine balance to strike - like
being a tightrope walker or a plate spinner.”
Over the years, Conlin has published three books; Heave, her
debut, released in 2002; The Memento, her sophomore effort, published in 2016;
and her most recent release, Watermark, a short story collection that hit bookstore
shelves earlier this year.
“Everywhere I go, stories present themselves. And writing
short stories is something that I have always done, as a story idea will come
to me quite suddenly. Perhaps they reveal themselves to me as shorter pieces as
so often the time in my life is often best suited to a shorter form. The
stories for Watermark were written when the spirit moved me, to quote my
grandmother, stories written for themselves, not for part of a bigger
collection.
“But when I collected those tales, they began to change. At
this point I was working with a full manuscript, closer in length to a novel
but instead of chapters, there were stories. I needed much longer blocks of
time to work on the manuscript then. There are small links in Watermark, that
connect the stories in the same way families and communities are connected - through
shared experience, landscape, and history.”
The collection has already received significant critical and
popular acclaim.
“I keep getting letters from readers, written late at night,
who have been up reading Watermark into the wee hours, sharing their connections.
It affirms for me that - despite age and stage of life difference, geographic
and cultural differences - there is a deep human connection through struggle
and conflict, and the courage and hope it takes to persevere.”
Currently, Conlin is focused on the promotion of Watermark. She
also has two future projects lined up; a fourth piece of literary fiction and a
memoir.
“I am not interested in the easy life - it is the inspired
life which sings out. There is comedy where there is tragedy, disappointment
and joy, grieving and celebration, the two faces of an experience. I love
novels where everyday life, where unexpected people, become heroes in their own
lives and discover a power behind the mundane, the mythological in the
commonplace. There is such strength in the ‘commonplace’ meeting with ‘the
unforeseen.’ To me, it is the light which calls to me when I write, those
shimmers and gleams through the darkness.”
