me shaking hands with the giant himself, immediately beneath the ship. As for The Last of the Vikings, that's the tite of a book I reviewed here a couple of years back. And below, I play the familiar with Amundsen and his fellows. All photos by Sheena Fraser McGoogan. And this, of course, is not the half of it. An AMAZING plaee!

Writers and artists are invariably ahead of the curve. The rich and the famous are usually just one step behind. Case in point: Kanye West and Kim Kardashian are spending their honeymoon at Castlemartyr Resort, a five-star extravaganza in the south of Ireland. We read about this in today's Toronto Star. As it happens, I spent a bit of time at this resort with Sheena -- who took the photo above -- two seasons ago. Spring, 2012. We were about to embark on a voyage around Ireland with Adventure Canada (AC), the Ontario-based travel company. In Dublin, we learned that our ship had been delayed by stormy seas. We would not be able to board near Cork on schedule . The folks at AC's head office made some calls. They located Castlemartyr, which could accommodate an influx of 80 or 90 people on short notice, and cut a deal. We did not arrive in "a fleet of limousines," as Kanye and Kim are said to have done, but rather in a couple of buses. But when we tumbled out, wow! We knew we had come to the right place. At the link above, or from Tourism Ireland, you can read about the golf, the horses, the fine dining. But what we enjoyed most, apart from the splendiferous grounds, and learning about the history of the place, was the heated pool. The water is ozone-treated, apparently, and as I dutifully did my lengths, I swear I felt it caressing me. Oh, and the pool is surrounded by two-storey glass windows with stunning views of the magnificent gardens. No, we did not stay in the presidential suite, where Kanye and Kim are holed up. But our huge suite was perfectly adequate for our needs, thank you very much. We had toyed with the idea of returning to Castlemartyr Resort, but now that the rich and the famous have discovered it, probably we won't. Someone has to maintain that cutting edge.

Our Hero writes in the National Post . . .
copies sold. But if, as a writer, Mowat was a Gulliver in Lilliput, and not just commercially, then surely he left a legacy? He must have established or advanced some literary tradition? Profoundly influenced younger Canadian writers?

First, the good news. We're almost two months from starting (July 7) and my narrative nonfiction course (aka creative nonfiction) is more than half full. That is also the bad news, if you're still weighing options. BUT: more good news! For the first time ever, I believe, U of T is offering a $50 discount for early-bird registration. Maybe that is why things are moving early? Anyway, you can click here for

Course Detail. Yes, I ask for brief submissions (up to 1,500 words) so we can hit the ground running. To the right, that's the official "me." Below, a nutshell description. Hey, we have a good time. Hope to see you in July? . . .

No, this is not a photo of Allyson Latta. You can find one or two images of her if you start clicking here. This is a picture of Our Hero scratching away on a standing stone he discovered atop Cruach Mhic Gougain in southern Kintyre. Yes, you'll hear Gaelic speakers insist that "cruach" translates as "big hill." But I believe "mount" to be more appropriate. I mean, "Mount McGoogan" is clearly better than "McGoogan Hill," right? Any editor will get that. But I shout out to Allyson Latta, a book editor and writing instructor of renown and track record, because she maintains such a fun-and-instructive website and blog. OK, I especially like that, with a nudge, apparently, from novelist Michelle Berry, Allyson invited me to share a few thoughts and images in a series she calls Will Come the Words. You can see the result by clicking here. The above photo, by Sheena Fraser McGoogan, made my short list for submission. But that would have made five images. And I'm guessing, Dear Reader, that even YOUR indulgence extends only so far.

Am I the only one who wonders where Canada went?

Gotta love this caricature by Chloe Cushman, one of several that turns up in Saturday's National Post. The article, put together by Mark Medley, celebrates the 50th anniversary of the Creative Writing Program at University of British Columbia. Contributors include Andreas Schroeder, Leo McKay, Nancy Lee, Charlotte Gill, Madeleine Thien, and Andrew Westoll, among others. Our Hero's offering goes like this . . . .
Forty years ago, when I flew west to write a novel while earning an MFA, I brought a portable typewriter and two dozen books. Having graduated top of my journalism class at Ryerson and worked as a reporter at the Toronto Star, I was stunned when, at my first novel-writing workshop, instead of hailing my genius, the other grad students kicked me to the curb with faint praise. I spent the next two years discovering how little I knew about storytelling. Cortazar, Marquez, Butor, Lessing, Achebe, Calvino. Where had these magicians been hiding? My mentor was novelist Robert Harlow, who had recently published Scann. After flying as a bomber pilot in the Second World War, Harlow had become the first Canadian to attend the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. Back home in B.C., he had helped run CBC Radio before moving to UBC at the invitation of Earle Birney. Both men battled to keep the creative writing department separate from the English department. With Harlow looking over my shoulder, I completed a novel that served as my thesis. Years later, after rewrites, it emerged via Pottersfield Press as my second book, Visions of Kerouac: A Novel. The rest, as Harlow used to say, is persiflage.