Suddenly…Sudan.

i am nearly through the book by joseph heller, am in yossarian’s last days.  i started it a few weeks ago, determined to find a book that was affecting, one that was, like kafka said, “an axe for the frozen sea inside”.  i polled friends, browsed bookstores, my own groaning shelves of unread books.  i settled on catch-22.

i read differently now that i have spent so many days writing, trying to make a story from the air.  when i read now, i think about structure, can sometimes see the strings that hold the characters, or the narrative, together.

in sudan,  the hardest parts took no pause.  i knew if i was going to make it into a story, i had to find a way to get the reader to turn the pages before they too became fatigued.  i wanted to preserve the intensity, the truth of my time there, but remove the exhaustion that might cause someone set the book down, half finished, and stand up, half-wounded, to put it on the shelf.

seeing the author’s hand doesn’t diminish my experience of reading a book; it expands it.  on occasion, it can pull me back out with an “oh…that’s an interesting way to tell it…”.   but sometimes you are reading a book whose strings are so fine, that pull so gently, you can forget they are there at all, and a world opens.

not sure if SMiS is that book. too close to it.  wasn’t sure that catch-22 was either, at the beginning. now, at the end of days, the sheen has fallen off, heller’s comedy has revealed itself to be horror, and i am left in a new, bright place.

i’ll need a new book soon.  i am thinking ishiguro’s “never let me go”. i want something that will leave me breathless.  the last book that did that was toni morrison’s “beloved”.  if you haven’t read it, holy shit.

i guess i am.  not sure i’ve been anywhere, though, except in my own head; thinking, writing, waiting.  the books almost here.  it’s been printed, and is sitting in a warehouse somewhere.  i’ve seen a copy.  it looks beautiful.

i was at a friend’s house for a barbecue the other day, for earth hour.  we sat around candles, listening to music, making plans and talking about the past.  simon tapped me on the shoulder and said “have you seen my room?”.  i hadn’t, and followed.

“cool,” i said.

“look at the nightstand,” he answered.

two books were on it, both gifted to him by me.  one was “a short history of progress” by ronald wright.  the other was a galley copy “six months in sudan”.

“those are two pretty good books,” i said, and for the first time understood where i’d been.   i did my best with that book, the one that is sitting on a pallet in stacks quietly waiting.  it succeeds, and it fails, but in it is as much truth as i could find.

so i’m back from there, i guess.  that archived place in my mind, from writing in fernie, and northern ontario, in the basement of massey college, in my spare bedroom.  back to here, the interspace between you and me, then and now.  i am going to start blogging again, and see how it fits.

earth hour was almost over as we moved to the porch, and continued talking.  one of the conversations that came up was about surfing, and we took turns planning a rotating list of destinations.  sri lanka, panam, brazil.  we’ll start in three years, we said, two weeks every year, different countries each time.

“that’s if we can continue to fly,” someone said, and we all nodded in agreement.

things have changed since the last time i visited this space.  we know more about the world, perhaps understand it better.  sudan has changed too.  abyei was burned.  msf was forced to withdraw from darfur.  thousands of people are getting hungrier, and accurate news is difficult to find.

i hope, however, that more people can come to know sudan through the book.  time will tell.  i am working on developing a website that will help bring depth to the story, and allow those that are interested to continue their engagement.  it will be at: sixmonthsinsudan.com and hope to launch it on my canadian release date of april 14.

i’m not sure who this is reaching, but whoever it does, you’re welcome to join me for my booklaunch at the gladstone hotel, in toronto.  it’s on april 19 at 5 pm.  there’ll be lots of good people there, one more if you can come.

so this is it?  i just press “publish” and i’m back to it again?  i’m shy about it.  better get over that.  soon, suddenly, “six months in sudan”.

ok. i guess not that shy.

Cover: "Six Months in Sudan" by James Maskalyk

Hi folks,
Dr. James Maskalyk is in the final stages of writing his first book, “Six Months in Sudan : A Young Doctor in a War-Torn Village” (published by Doubleday; a division of Random House of Canada Ltd.), and to be released on 14 April 2009. Fans of “Suddenly…Sudan” will recognize James’ familiar voice, the people he met, and selected blog excerpts which structure the book. However, both established and new fans will be taken with the personality and depth of James’ new writing, and a story arch that stretches from the abrupt departure from Canada, through the daily activities in Sudan, to the emotional return home. MSF will be supporting the launch of the book, and readers can watch this space for updates.

Read Calvin White’s “Suddenly… a book” review of the book and blog here.