Emma Lammers

3 Crafts to Make with Paper: Stars, Bunting, and More

Originally published in 2021.

Fun fact: stores selling paint and other décor throw away their wallpaper sample books at the end of each season – but if you ask nicely, they might give the sample book to you instead. Apparently teachers have been using them for years as free art supplies. Now that you’re in on the secret, you can too.

Like my previous post, 3 Crafts to Make with Vines, I’ve got some ideas for decorations made with repurposed materials, in this case types of paper. If anything paper is even more versatile than vines because of the variety of textures and colours available. Most of these projects are kid-friendly, and they can be adapted to any kind of holiday (or everyday) theme you like.

Tip: I recommend practising different shapes and decorating ideas with scrap paper first to get a feel for how the different materials behave.

The first tutorial shows you how to make simple traced shapes that can be used as ornaments, window decals, or to decorate cards and table settings. Second are instructions to make bunting, a type of banner that I often saw in cafés when I was in England. Finally, I’ve added a tutorial for the classic paper chain and some bonus how-to links from other creatives.

Review: Everyone Knows your Mother is a Witch by Rivka Galchen

“Katharina is an illiterate widow, known by her neighbours for her herbal remedies and the success of her children, including her eldest, Johannes, who is the Imperial Mathematician and renowned author of the laws of planetary motion. It’s enough to make anyone jealous, and Katharina has done herself no favours by being out and about and in everyone’s business.”
– HarperCollins.ca

It’s difficult to guess the genre of Everyone Knows Your Mother is a Witch based on its premise. The first few pages aren’t written with the aim of clarifying this, and I read the opening scenes with a feeling of uncertainty, half worried and half amused. When a widow named Katharina Kepler is first accused of witchcraft, she doesn’t seem sure of how to react to the news either. Despite her family’s alarm, she seems inclined at first to laugh it off.

So you wonder: Will this be a courtroom drama? Social commentary? Comedy or tragedy?

I had no idea what to expect, so I settled in to experience Galchen’s style. The unconventional approach to describing the legal battle, the juxtaposition of satirical characters against the cutting realism of the setting? Marvelous. I think I would have enjoyed it no matter how it ended. Everyone Knows Your Mother is a Witch will definitely be a favourite book of 2021.

Review of Refuse: CanLit in Ruins

Originally published in 2021.

Refuse: CanLit in Ruins is edited by Hannah McGregor, Julie Rak, and Erin Wunker, and features writing by Joshua Whitehead, Alicia Elliott, Kai Cheng Thom, Dorothy Ellen Palmer, and many more.

I’m not sure how it happened, but at a young age I internalised the belief that Canadian culture needed particular support in order to hold its own on the international stage. Canadian music, sport, film, and technology were all to be loudly praised, lest Canadian kids think that we never contributed anything to world – or worse, that Canadian culture doesn’t exist. As a literature and creative writing student I made a point of taking classes which examined Canadian novels, poems, and drama for evidence that CanLit is indeed alive. Fortunately, this evidence exists in abundance: every generation since at least the early nineteenth century has written material to support the existence of a national identity.

And this brings me to another internalised belief: that value is measured by what you can produce for posterity. At present I consider myself a very low-value writer. Yes, I have a novel nearing completion and yes, university helped improve my skills and portfolio, but the career I dreamed of has yet to begin. This website is the sum of my published work so far.

Last year I picked up a book called Refuse: CanLit in Ruins and discovered that my tangling together of value, production, identity, and respect paralleled a similar phenomenon in Canadian literature as a whole. In retrospect, I’ve been circling this problem for years on both a personal and professional level, but Refuse has shown me what lurks behind the façade of my dream job.

Review: Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Originally published in 2021.

To be clear: I did not give Gideon the Ninth two stars because I thought it was awful from beginning to end. I actually thought it had a lot of potential, and my rating reflects my disappointment in how that potential was handled.

Now that we’ve got that out of the way (and hopefully prevented reactionary comments), let’s proceed to the book: lots of skeletons, some interplanetary travel, several sarcastic necromancers, and a bit of martial arts. The first book in the Locked Tomb Series, Gideon the Ninth mixes genres with glee. Its title character, a teenage girl trapped in indentured servitude on a dreary planet called the Ninth, is desperate to join the army. Harrow, her employer and the de facto ruler of the Ninth, is desperate to keep Gideon at her side, apparently out of sheer vindictiveness. Their early confrontations display Harrow’s skill as a necromancer (specialising in magical bone constructs – creepy but cool) and Gideon’s endless sarcasm.

Note: major spoilers below.

The sarcasm was the first tripping point for me, cluttering Gideon’s dialogue and the narration and distracting from details of world and character that become important later on. Luckily Gideon proves to be more than a self-centred snark machine, defending and caring for a variety of other characters more deserving than Harrow, but that poses a second problem: how does Gideon, neglected and abused since infancy, have such a pure heart? While reading the book I shrugged and continued to suspend my disbelief. Now that I’m finished, I see that Gideon’s character arc is one of the pieces that didn’t quite fit. Harrow, whose childhood was also traumatic, is more believable, styling herself as the villain to deal with her anger and guilt.

But the story progresses swiftly, bringing Gideon and Harrow to planet First along with the heirs of other planets’ governments (all necromancers) and their cavaliers (essentially bodyguards). Gideon has been promised freedom if she acts as Harrow’s cavalier while Harrow and the other necromancers chip away at a riddle which holds the clue to becoming a Lyctor (a powerful, immortal servant to the God-King).

Though Muir describes and paces it well, the set-up reminded me a bit too much of The Hunger Games, especially as the bodies pile up and everyone starts picking allies. The secondary characters in Gideon the Ninth are great, though, and its magic/science blend of necromancy kept me interested until the end. I thought the middle section of the book was the most enjoyable.

Alas, I did not enjoy the end. As mentioned earlier, Gideon’s character arc doesn’t feel plausible to me. Her budding friendship/romance with Harrow around three quarters into the story is believable, but her proclamation of loyalty as she jumps to her death is not. Yes, she saves everyone by her sacrifice and yes, she may just be saying that devotion to Harrow and the Ninth is better than submitting to their enemy. Or maybe her last living words are as sarcastic as her first. Either way, the classism of the servant’s sacrifice for her Lady irritated me.

End of spoilers.

Gideon the Ninth ends with many subplots unsolved, leaving some intrigue for the sequel, Harrow the Ninth, but I’m not sure I’ll read it. If you’ve read any of the Locked Tomb Trilogy, let me know what you thought of it in the comments.

What Kind of Fiction Editor Do You Need?

I’ve studied writing and fiction for the past 12 years, but until recently I couldn’t tell you which editor does what. The difference between the Canadian, UK, and US names for editors confused me, and terms that I’d never heard in university (beta reader? book coach?) made me wonder if I’d zoned out in class once too often.

But there was nothing wrong with my attention span. I had learned about creative writing from a writer’s perspective, with a few tips on how to sell my work to journals and anthologies. The skills a professional editor needs just hadn’t been important in my classes.

Now that I’ve taken classes from the Editorial Freelancers’ Association, I have a clearer picture of various kinds of editors and how they can help bring a manuscript closer to publication.

Each of the four jobs I describe below have a different focus, but are sometimes done by the same people, especially in smaller publishing houses. The same goes for freelancers – many of my teachers work in two or more areas.

Not every manuscript will need all four kinds of editing, especially if the author is more experienced. Hopefully this post will guide you towards the kind of editor your fiction needs – or, as in my case, the kind of editing work you want to do.

Developmental Editor

Also known as: structural editor, content editor, substantive editor.

If you want to make sure that your pacing, plotting, and character arcs are up to publishing standards, a developmental editor can help. They specialise in the ‘big picture’ aspects of a story, ensuring continuity and consistency. Sometimes they also specialise in a certain genre or sub-genre of fiction. Because they might recommend big changes to a manuscript (like reordering scenes or changing the point of view character) it’s recommended that you work with a developmental editor before hiring a line editor or copyeditor.

Line Editor

Also known as: stylistic editor.

Line editors, as their name suggests, go through manuscripts line by line looking for ways to improve the clarity and flow of a piece without losing the author’s voice. They might query awkward phrases, inconsistencies in point of view, or confusing dialogue.

Line editors prefer to work with a later draft of a manuscript. If the structural elements of your story aren’t polished, they will usually tell you to hire a developmental editor first – or at least they should, to save them doing twice the work (and you paying twice the money!)

Copyeditor

Also known as: sub-editor.

Copyeditors and line editors are both concerned with clarity, but copyeditors focus more on grammar and formatting. They’re the people who know exactly which word or punctuation mark is the correct one to use in any given sentence. Depending on who they work for, they might follow a publisher’s style guide or build a style sheet for each project, which they then use as their rulebook.

Proofreader

Also known as: checker, the Human Spellcheck.

Finally, after the manuscript is fully revised and almost ready to publish, the proofreader looks it over. Like copy editors, they’re experts in spelling, grammar, and punctuation, but they’re responsible for the final quality check. Any mistakes made during the final formatting of a manuscript are theirs to correct.

Unlike AI programs, human proofreaders can recognise the difference between an author’s choice and an actual mistake. They can tell when a page layout is cramped and discern the relevant research during fact-checking. If they find anything confusing, they ask the writer or publishing house for clarification.

For these reasons, I prefer to have a human professional help prepare something for publication. Yes, it will usually cost money. Yes, it takes longer than Grammarly. But with so many experts just an email away, do you really want to sacrifice the quality of your published work for the sake of convenience?

Find editors:

Editors Canada

Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading

The Editorial Freelancers Association

My Novel in Progress: A History (Part 2)

Originally published in 2021. A follow-up to My Novel in Progress: A History (Part 1).

The Author Abroad

2016: In September I begin a year of studying abroad in Norwich, England. Within a few weeks of arrival I’ve found my favourite grocery stall at the market, toured most of the major sites, and signed up for a library card. I might not do much writing this year, but the culture and history of the city gives me a lot to research.

I take a class in poetry writing and churn out pages of villanelles, free verse, sonnets and sestinas. Apparently my brain really needed a break from all that prose. In my spare time, I forage through the library for books on early modern history.

The poetic passages in the NIP feel more and more contrived, so I change them to regular prose. Without the line breaks they still have a strong rhythm, and a consistent style – my style? – begins to emerge.

2017: On holiday in January. The amount of medieval architecture still present in France and Holland astounds me. In Germany there really is a type of doughnut called ein Berliner, and there is snow. I missed snow in Norwich.

Back at University, my most challenging class is feminist literature. We discuss historical context, rhetoric, intersectionality. It occurs to me that no matter what the author’s intent may have been, readers will always scour a text for its meaning. I’d rather be deliberate than accidental about message and metaphor, so I work specific themes and events into my writing.

My Novel-in-Progress: A History (Part 1)

Originally published in 2021.

Some authors get an idea for a book and finish writing it within a year or two. Others let their story ferment for a decade before they set it down on paper. I don’t seem to be either of these types – I’ve been working at a novel on and off for over a decade. It needs at least one more rewrite before I can think about sending it to an agent or publisher.

What’s taking me so long?

Short answer: being disabled. Being a student. University took huge bites out of my mental and physical endurance, for all that I loved what I was learning.

Looking back, I also seem to be vulnerable to the influence of whatever fiction I was reading at the moment. My pacing became more deliberate after I read Ian McEwan’s Atonement at thirteen, and I blame my attempts at a verse novel on The Odyssey, which was assigned in my first year of university.

Plot, point of view, title and characters have all morphed as I wrote them. Writing this novel has been a weird, delightful, infuriating journey.

Notes and research circa 2009 (yes, that’s a colouring book!)

For your entertainment, here’s a timeline of my early years as a writer.

2003: My first childhood attempt at a novel. I find that writing is not quite as exciting as my daydreams of being published, earning great success, and then starring in a movie adaptation, but I persist.

2004-2006: I fill several notebooks with variations on the same fantasy adventure story. I don’t yet understand the concept of rational world building: my protagonist has exceptional magical powers, but she rarely uses them to solve the problems. My antagonist exists simply to be evil.

2007-2009: I read how-to books on writing and take copious notes. In the light of this newfound wisdom, I realise that my earlier work is not fit for public consumption.

Review: The Voyage Out by Virginia Woolf

Originally posted in 2021. Since then some of Woolf’s writing (a 1915 diary entry in particular) has been widely criticized as ableist. As impressive as Woolf’s prose may be, I do not agree with her opinions on illness and do not support the killing or incarceration of people judged to be “ineffective” or intellectually disabled.

Anyone who has had to study classic literature knows which websites to consult for a summary of whatever book they’ve been assigned. For The Voyage Out, Virginia Woolf’s first published novel, this approach does no favours to either the reader or the text, turning the story into a random series of events concerning upper-middle class Brits on holiday. Likewise, numerous essays and articles explain what the book is supposed to mean, and how I should think of it. A Bildungsroman. A criticism of Edwardian society and gender roles. A tribute to Woolf’s friends, upon whom the main characters are apparently based. I could use any of these angles when describing The Voyage Out, but none would do it justice. You must experience Woolf’s fluid prose for yourself.

Is it worth the effort? For the most part, I believe it is. Yes, the characters’ old-fashioned behaviours seem awkward and yes, this narrative is not so deftly handled as those in Woolf’s later works, but the hints of budding modernism and feminism compensate for this. Juliet Stevenson’s superb reading of the audiobook made The Voyage Out all the more enjoyable for me.

Review: The Centaur’s Wife by Amanda Leduc

Originally published in April 2021.

In Amanda Leduc’s novel The Centaur’s Wife, flowers harbour spirits and mountain soil has the power to transform bodies.

After a devastating natural disaster, the city at the foot of the mountain struggles with food shortages, harsh winter, and the inexplicable encroachment of wild vines onto urban territory. Nothing the survivors plant is able to grow, however, and they begin to look with suspicion upon the usual scapegoats in a catastrophe: the leaders and the outcasts.

Newcomer Tasha steps into the leadership role as the only doctor in the community, organising food rations and scouting trips even as others chafe against her rule and accuse her of false promises. In the second role, the outcast, we have Heather, a new mother with cerebral palsy whose history with the mountain and its rumoured magic make her an object of fear and ridicule for some of her neighbours. But Heather is not the sum of their contempt – she is the keystone of the story, a survivor long before the apocalypse, and an unwilling mediator between the two worlds of the book: the desperate city and the ominous magical mountain.

Leduc alternates between the central plot and a series of original fairy tales which function as both backstory and counterpoint. Her fluid, unpretentious style lets the novelty of her genre-blending shine, but this is not always to the book’s advantage. Sometimes the magic makes sense, and sometimes it does not. In the first half of the book, a portal between worlds is mentioned twice, but never explained or (as far as I could tell) used.

Lessons from Copyediting Class

A winter wasted?

In my last post, I mentioned the copyediting course that I was taking in order to boost my credentials. Since I don’t have much experience as an editor, I’d hoped that this would help demonstrate my skills and dedication to potential clients.

However, after taking the introductory class, I bumped into two problems.

The first issue was how much I struggled with the second copyediting class. Instead of sailing through like I had before, I bungled the assignments, missing obvious mistakes and recommending unnecessary changes. I started to worry that I might not pass the class.

This was a blow to my confidence, but in the end it helped me realise that neither the rigours of copyediting or the way the class was taught were a good match for me.

Oh well, I thought. At least I learned a few editorial basics. Take a break, then move on.

And it’s a good thing I did take a break. Once my frustration with my poor performance had settled and I’d taken the time to rest my frazzled brain, something else occurred to me: people have Grammarly. They have Spell Check. They have Chat GPT.

That’s the second issue: why would someone hire an unexperienced copyeditor when artificial intelligence can do the same job for a lower price?

So then I had to consider how much time I’d wasted worrying over my poor grades in copyediting – not to mention the money I’d spent on the classes.

More frustration. More moving on. After all, I bought those classes to learn something about editing, and I did. They just weren’t the lessons I had expected.

I decided to quit my second copyediting class without finishing it, and I’ve had no regrets. Copyediting is about fixing. I want my work to be about making, sharing, connecting. I want it to be about stories and discoveries.

A sort of spring break

In April I decided that I needed a change of pace. I was tired of constantly being tired (thanks to autistic overload), so I reduced my work hours and turned to my old friends sewing and reading to keep me occupied. Often I listened to podcasts while I sewed, to drown out the questions that kept cycling through my mind: should I upgrade my ESL certification? Would teaching ESL bring in enough money to pay rent? Would an office job like administration or HR be better pay? Could I actually manage the hours expected from these positions?

It’s taken me these last eight months to work through the endless information on job opportunities and financial advice and conclude that planning ahead is terrifying. I did do one thing that’s often recommended to anxious people, though: I broke things down into separate problems. Problem one – the cost of living crisis vs. my output as a disabled person – doesn’t seem to be something I can actually solve. Hopefully I’ll become more confident in working with this systemic disaster in time.

Problem two, the frequent sensory overload at work, is something I’m determined to manage better by changing which roles I pursue at work. This might reduce the number of hours I work per week, but I can manage on a tight budget. I also have the great privilege of a family that’s willing to support me. Because of this, I can take the rest I need while I adjust my career into something more sustainable.

And what will that look like?

My plans aren’t quite finalised yet, but here are a few teasers:

A course in developmental editing.
A podcast and/or blog series that explores the nuances of neurodivergent characters in fiction.
New social media profiles to help connect with other bookworms and promote my services.

That’s all for now! I’ll post some more details on the podcast-in-progress and social media accounts in a few weeks.

Have you read a good (or bad) book with a neurodivergent character recently? And have you had any experience as an editor? I’d love to read about it in the comments!

PS: I could have gone off on a tangent about how I feel artificial intelligence is being misused as a replacement for human creativity and learning, but that’s a subject for another time. In the meantime, here’s a collection of interviews with people who lost work to AI.