A Life Changed through Settings - Gloria Guest

Prairie Crocuses - Reg Guest

 It was a just a dusty little hamlet set on a lonely highway in Saskatchewan. I was thirteen and had just arrived to this place on the prairies with my family where we were to live, after a long drive from southern Ontario.  Fergus had been a beautiful, quaint place, with towering maple trees and highlighted by a lovely river that ran through its center along with gorgeous heritage buildings. It also had an outdoor pool where I was used to swimming my summers away. Heward looked more like a ghost town with a few scattered houses and not much else. At second glance though I grew quite excited upon seeing a very tall building with the single word POOL on the side. ‘Wow! I exclaimed, with renewed hope, ‘That pool must have a very high diving board!’ It’s funny now, but being an avid swimmer, I thought maybe this place wouldn’t be as bad as the rest of it looked. But my hopes died like a deflated beach ball, when I was told that the tall building was an elevator and it held….wheat. I was even more disappointed when I saw our dilapidated old house my father had purchased from only viewing a picture. I imagined that ‘maybe’ it had looked better at the time the picture was taken. But this place was shabby with worn paint and many tall, unruly weeds. Inside was even worse, with no heat, running water or indoor toilet!! The culture shock was immediate. It was also the first time I saw my tenacious, resolute mother cry as she swept up what looked like years of grime and dust and brushed it with hard strokes out the door. Her dreams had been dashed just as mine.

A few weeks later my aunt and uncle stopped by on their way back to Alberta and convinced my parents to move back to the province of their births. I couldn’t leave fast enough and so was the first to volunteer to go ahead with them, early. My young heart swore that I’d never be back to Saskatchewan! What good was there? Not a river in sight. Not even a swimming pool. Eventually we ended up living at Athabasca, Alberta, surrounded by whispering pines and gently rolling hills. It was a place of quiet beauty that nestled on the hill and spilled down into the valley that settled against the majestic Athabasca river.

I spent my high school years there and it was there I discovered that I was a writer, when I wrote a story for a National High school writers contest. In choosing my setting though, I didn’t choose the picturesque town of Fergus or the ruggedly beautiful Athabasca. Rather it was the stark little hamlet of Heward, Saskatchewan that became the setting for my characters. Even more surprising was that my fictionalized story, written in a setting that I never wanted to return to, placed first for Alberta.

But that is not the rest of the story. Only a few years later, I did find myself back in Saskatchewan when I married my husband who grew up on a farm near Pangman. Thankfully this little town did have running water and indoor bathrooms; but I still recall my first introductory drive down main street when a large tumble weed blew across the empty road, the lonely, barren winter when I’d look out the window and wonder if anyone actually lived here and worst of all the millions of grasshoppers I spent my first summer dodging. We farmed for seventeen years, mostly during drought years and eventually left to find other work. We finished raising our family in a new setting where I was able to expand my writing skills by working as a reporter and a columnist. It was a breath of fresh air.

However life threw some curve balls and we find ourselves back living in Pangman, where we live near our son and four of our grandchildren, which I love. However, some days I do wonder if anything good can come out of this place for me personally. There is no lively river running through town to quench my thirsty soul. Not even a cheerful little meandering creek. I’ve struggled again with depression and lack of motivation to write. But then I recalled that hated little town of Heward, and how I was never going back. Yet that very setting, ended up in a winning story that provided me with enough scholarship money to pay for me to attend Bible College. There I was not only strengthened in my faith but met my future husband.

I see setting very much like a river; sometimes it is strong with a heavy undercurrent, playing an intricate part through the entire piece, whereas other times it is meandering and slow, playing a lesser role but still there and important throughout. Setting adds another character and is important to the structure of your human characters. It molds and shapes who they are and who they become as much as the bricks and mortar of the area, shape the buildings. Perhaps though, setting doesn’t need to be as beautiful and charming as I’d prefer. Sometimes even a bleak setting can allow for the characters to play a more prominent role, set against it; as if with such scarcity, every little detail stands out. Perhaps that applies to people too.

Having never put down solid roots, I have found that, the many places I’ve lived; villages, towns, cities, and provinces, have all conjoined like a river through my soul that I can draw on like a thirsty traveler, when I need a nuance of place. It’s the only time that I feel blessed to have been so uprooted throughout my life.

Can anything good now come out of this place, having come full circle? A setting that I wouldn’t have chosen had life not intervened? Some would say not. But I say, yes….with God's grace, it can.

“If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink. He who believes in Me as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.”. John 7:38

Fergus Grand River

Gloria Guest writes and blogs from the village of Pangman Sk; a place with no river or creek in sight, although it does have a tiny outdoor pool. She has written many newspaper articles and columns for various papers; has taken creative writing courses from the U of T and editing courses from SFU and currently is writing a book of devotions. She enjoys memoir, creative non-fiction, poetry and the occasional fiction writing (with perhaps a growing interest on writing about small, dusty, prairie towns ;)

 

Do Setting Details Really Matter by Steph Beth Nickel

When you read the title of this post, you may have had a strong visceral reaction.

Of course, setting matters. A clearly detailed setting enables readers to picture exactly where the story or real-life situation is taking place. Setting is, after all, a character.

My husband, for one, appreciates it when an author clearly describes the setting, painting a detailed picture for him. I, however, am almost on the other end of the scale. For example, it’s sufficient for me to read, “The walkway was lined with flowers.”

The only reason it would be of particular importance to me that those flowers were carnations in a rainbow of colours would be if it played a key role in the story. For example, say a young widower had let his wife’s treasured gardens become overrun because he couldn’t bear to work in the yard, but by the end of the story, he was pulling weeds, tending to the flowerbeds that were flourishing once again.

Such is the case with many of the details we choose to include in our writing, setting details have to do with our readers. We must accept that what is important to one reader is not important to another. What is important to us as readers, may or may not be important to those who will read our writing.

Here are a few questions to help us determine how many setting details to include in our writing:

  1.    Will the setting be familiar to the majority of our readers? The more familiar our readers are with the setting, the fewer details will likely be needed.

2.     What are the genre conventions? If readers typically expect extensive descriptions of the setting, it’s best to lean in that direction.

3.     Are we writing about a different time in history? While our readers may be avid readers of historical fiction, it’s best to include enough details that even those who aren’t will be able to picture the setting with a fair amount of accuracy?

4.     Have we set our story on a different planet or an alternative version of earth? If so, readers will need enough information to accurately picture the setting. Note: This can be revealed bit by bit as the story progresses. No need for an “info dump” even in this case.

5.     Does the setting—in particular, the specific details—further our plot, help with the pacing, reveal more than the setting itself?

Start with the amount of detail you prefer, factor in genre conventions, and seek input from beta readers who read extensively in your chosen genre. Determine how many setting details you will include and accept the fact that some readers will want more, and some will feel you’ve overdone it.

As is the case with any element of writing, perfection doesn’t truly exist—and that’s okay.

Steph Beth Nickel is the former Editor of FellowScript and the current InScribe Contest Coordinator. Steph is an editor and author and plans to relocate to Saskatchewan from Ontario to be close to family after her husband retires in the spring of 2025. (Headshot Photo Credit: Jaime Mellor Photography)

What We Behold by Susan Barclay

 

I won’t date myself by saying what year this took place, but when I was in university I wrote a paper that speaks to this month’s theme of setting. I entitled it, A Man Would Have to Act as the Land Where He Was Born Had Trained Him to Act, a line from William Faulkner’s Light in August.

Here’s part of my first paragraph from that essay: 

The voice of the community affects everyone. There is no question but that being raised in one region rather than another can have the most far-reaching effects on one’s life and the events of one’s life. No setting is solely physical; each place has associations with certain values and norms; each location dictates patterns of behaviour which are acceptable for its particular community. Social influence is inextricably interwoven with the creation of the adult person. Individuals learn how to act through their experiences with other members of the group. To survive, the person must internalize the values of the group, and become capable of interacting in a persistent and acceptable manner within it.

I recently started reading Eugene Peterson’s authorized biography, A Burning in My Bones. Chapter One describes how Eugene’s maternal grandparents emigrated from Norway to the U.S. and settled in Montana. Author WinnCollier writes,

When Andre and Juditta Hoiland first cast their eyes on the vast and magnificent Flathead Valley...they couldn’t have imagined how this place would shape the generations to follow, how this ground would form their grandson Eugene.

He says,

This Montana landscape—the place Eugene loved, wandered in, and marveled at his entire life—fashioned him as surely as meltwater carved the basin between the mountains. The breathtaking beauty, immense solitude, and sheer physicality of the valley forged in Eugene a visceral sense of place. An earthiness, to use a word that would become one of his favorites.

He traversed deep into his surroundings, spending long days exploring… The splendid grandeur of this feral country, with all the wonder and holiness it evoked, nurtured a spiritual imagination in him that was every bit as formative as what he found in his childhood Pentecostal church. Maybe more...

Late in his life, as I sat to hear Eugene describe how much time he spent wandering alone under that expansive sky, it became clear how the land’s stark, solitary beauty shaped him, grounding in him a rich silence of soul…

Throughout his writings, Eugene belligerently resisted the common modern habit of severing earth from heaven, splitting the physical world from the spiritual. These convictions would come to be grounded in deep theology but were first felt as a boy as he feasted on the infinite Montana sky, inhaled the scent of aspen and Engelmann spruce, and drank crisp water from rushing streams. Montana was Eugene’s birthplace. And it became his catechism.

This Eugene Peterson is the man who gave us The Message Bible translation. The influence of his early environment is clear: the setting of our lives, the landscape around us (broad or narrow), finds its place in our writing.

So what is, or was, my setting? I was raised in the grand metropolis of Toronto in a predominantly Caucasian neighbourhood with swaths of Jewish and Greek subcommunities. My nearest playmates were the Armenian/Greek brothers across the street and a Catholic girl several doors down. In our era of childhood, we had the freedom to run the streets after school, playing until dusk when the streetlights came on. My mom was separated from my father when I was an infant, and my grandparents lived with us to offer physical support. Our home was a Christian one, and I was at church regularly for Sunday morning and evening services and midweek events for my age group. My mom believed in the power of a good education and I was encouraged to devote myself to my studies, to excel in school and pursue postgraduate degrees. From the time I was three, I was a regular library visitor, and by the time I was fourteen, I had a part-time library job, eventually becoming a librarian. Like every child, I was shaped by my setting (physical, social, familial, spiritual). And who I am as a result of my setting comes out in the subjects and themes I write about, the style in which I write, and the writers with whom I identify and by whom I’m inspired.

British poet, painter, and printmaker, William Blake, believed we become what we behold. Let us therefore fix our eyes on Jesus, that we may be like him. The Scriptures shaped Jesus and informed his thinking. "There wasn’t a single thing that entered Jesus’ mind that was not subject to the overarching story that the Bible tells about God and his purpose for creation" (from Prepared to Answer). Like Jesus, may we also be in the Word. May we find our place in God’s grand story, experience his purpose for our lives, and tell the tale that is ours alone to share.

________________________

c. Susan Barclay, 2025. For more about Susan and her writing, please visit www.susan-barclay.blogspot.com

Place Matters by Lorrie Orr

 

In this month's prompt we are invited to write about the setting of our writing. 

We all exist in time and place. I invite you to share how the setting of your life, the landscape around you, broad or narrow, finds its place in your writing? How does setting affect you? For some writers, the setting becomes as powerful as a character in the story. Alternatively, write a paragraph or two describing yourself or another character in a particular setting.

The relentless sun beats down, but it is the intense humidity that leaves me limp and drained of energy. I know a storm is brewing. Just when the heat becomes unbearable, I hear the rain coming like a rush of wind across the dense jungle. Within seconds it's as if the sluice gates of heaven have opened. Water drums on the roof of the house. It bounces in the puddles soon formed by the unrelenting downpour. The deafening sound carries on throughout the night. We sleep, oh, so soundly, hearing nothing but the steady deluge outside. By morning the storm moves on, the air is fresh and sweet, and we awaken with renewed motivation for the day ahead.

After moving to Canada in the early 2000s, I first heard the song He Reigns by The Newsboys. There is a line about the volume of believers singing that had me thinking about how loud that noise must be to be heard over rain in the Amazon. And I wondered how anyone who had not experienced the overwhelming din of a jungle rain could even grasp the intensity of it. It's a great line. Having experienced many Amazon rainstorms, I have perhaps a tiny bit more understanding than someone who has never lived anywhere but Victoria where the rain is much more gentle.

In many works of literature, the place, or setting, becomes a character. The Shire in J. R. R. Tolkien's works set in Middle-Earth represents an idyllic and comforting place of security. Who of us would not love to curl up in an easy chair in a Hobbit hole with a cup of tea and a friend to visit with?

Late Nights on Air by Elizabeth Hay is set in Yellowknife, in the far north of Canada. When I read the book the landscape became as vivid as a character. I loved the descriptions of the vastness, the wildlife, the effect of a sun that never set. Hays knew the landscape and was able to convey the beauty and isolation of the North in a way that made it real to me although I had never seen it myself. L. M. Montgomery's heroes Anne and Emily (among others) live on Prince Edward Island. Reading her books over and over again, I learned of the red soil and the gentle curves of the landscape, so much so that when I did finally visit PEI, those things were familiar to me.

Images and metaphors of place abound in Scripture. Psalm 23 speaks of our Shepherd Lord making us lie down in green pastures, leading us beside quiet waters, and guiding us in paths of righteousness. The author could have said, "Relax. God will take of you and guide you." Instead, the imagery of a peaceful place guarded by a caring shepherd enhanced by specific details elicits emotions of trust.

Place. It matters. And as writers, it matters that we get our facts straight. I once read a story that included the lovely sweet fragrance of the colourful bougainvillea vines that drape over rooftops and fenLoces in lands more southerly than Canada. "Hmmm," I thought, "I don't remember bougainvillea having much of a scent." So I looked it up. I was correct. Pollinators are attracted by the bright colours that lack any scent. That small incorrect detail made me question other descriptors the author used.

To write about place we must engage all the senses of our readers so that they can picture in their minds the setting of our stories. God has placed each one of us in specific settings that we experience in unique ways. Psalm 18:19 says, "He brought me out into a spacious place," - a metaphor for a life of freedom. I am so thankful for this place and want to convey that sense of freedom in Christ that can exist in any physical setting that I write.

Lorrie Orr writes from Vancouver Island where winter is giving way to spring.