Poets Kevan Cameron and Valerie Mason-John perform some spoken word at the Jimi Hendrix Shrine on Union Street. | Photo by Florence Hwang

British Columbia is home to a multitude of talented authors, including writers of contemplative poetry, spoken word performances and darkly comedic and fantastical short stories. The Vancouver International Writers Festival, which runs Oct. 22 to 27, offers a chance to dig deeper into this community with readings, panel discussions, performances and interviews. But even a quick look at some of the writers involved in this year’s festival reveals the breadth and vitality of B.C.’s literary scene.

Silvia Moreno-Garcia: Fantastical worlds

Silvia Moreno-Garcia looks at Cthulhu, a monster from author H.P. Lovecraft’s works. | Photo by Florence Hwang

As authors move to British Columbia from around the world, they bring elements of the literary cultures of their homelands to add to B.C.’s own. According to Silvia Moreno-Garcia, if a Latin American writer described a character talking to ghosts or even angels, it wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary.

“Latin American fiction is not clear-cut. Fantastic things happen in real settings,” says Moreno-Garcia, who came to Canada nine years ago from Mexico.

As a young girl, she recalls her great grandmother telling her stories about the Mexican revolution while mixing all sorts of fantastical elements.

“It never was supposed to be something special. [My great-grandmother] would mention in her stories that she talked with a witch or a shape shifter. I grew up with the sense of the world where it wasn’t easily divided between folklore and the real world,” she says.

Moreno-Garcia’s first collection of short stories, This Strange Way of Dying, was published last month. She chooses to write short stories because she likes the freedom to be able to switch subjects or characters and also because it’s easier to find time to write them.

Daniela Elza: Poetry that captures the moment

Daniela Elza, poet. | Photo by Florence Hwang

When Daniela Elza writes poetry, time seems to stand still. Moments become whole, lasting rather than fleeting.

“We seek these expansive moments in life, like lying on a beach. It’s like coming home, a place to be whole. Poetic consciousness strives for wholeness, which is a sign of well-being,” says Elza, who was born in Bulgaria, but grew up in Nigeria.

It is an approach to time that Elza extends to her other endeavours. When defending her dissertation in philosophy at Simon Fraser University in 2011, Elza informed the timekeeper that she would like exceed the allotted 20 minute limit.

“I told him: ‘You have a very hard job. You have to time me when I am trying to stop time,’” says Elza.

Her work, which can be found in collections like the book of It and the weight of dew, is often inspired by memories of childhood.

“Why is it that only childhood memories remain? It’s because child consciousness is a wild thing. It is more moral, more aware than adults, and ecologically sane,” she says.

Valerie Mason-John and Kevan Cameron: Slam poetry hits Vancouver

At the Jimi Hendrix Shrine on Union Street, Valerie Mason-John and Kevan Cameron quickly grab a bite to eat and socialize with some fellow artists on a Friday afternoon before their spoken word performance begins.

Mason-John, an African-Canadian who emigrated from the UK, is a performance poet who understands the value of live spoken word art.

“Rather than bashing on doors to get people to publish you, you set up a gathering. Get the word out through posters, flyers, word of mouth, magazines, newspapers, the Internet,” says Mason-John.

Spoken word is freestyle poetry that can use music, props or whatever the artist feels like using, notes Mason-John. A slam is like a three-minute lecture, but in poetic form and without music or accompaniment.

Her performances offer Mason-John a chance to focus on issues important to her. Originally, this meant exploring black, female and queer identities. Her work has changed since she became a Buddhist. Mason-John reflects that her early poetry came from a place of anger and feeling invisible. Now, she writes from a place of beauty, pride and joy.

According to Mason-John and Cameron, slam poetry and spoken word art has a large following and importance within Canada’s African and Jamaican communities. It was this that led the two to co-edit an anthology of poetry entitled The Great Black North.

Spoken word is popular with youth and the anthology was a way of putting together intergenerational poetry, according to Cameron.

“These artists can give this anthology to their parents and show them their work,” he says.

Born in Edmonton to parents of Jamaican descent, Cameron absorbed Jamaican folklore, music and poetry from his mother, reggae from his father and jazz from his brother, while seeking out hip hop on his own.

“Scruff mouth the Scribe was a nickname my brother gave me in high school. I thought that’s a good poet name. Kevan Cameron is a different guy. He’s the one who co-edits an anthology on poetry. Scruff mouth would contribute to the anthology,” says Cameron.

Today, what inspires his writing includes history, the black experience, and knowledge of self-identity. He says he lives by the principles in his poetry.

“As a poet, I come at poetry to live by my word, not just in persona. What I write is the code I live by. The closer you can do that, the better you are at standing in the truth,” he says

Stefano Mazzega: Taking the plunge

Stefano Mezzega, writer. | Photo by Florence Hwang

The community of authors in B.C. continues to grow, as new writers make their voices heard.

Stefano Mazzega, general manager of the RCMP’s forensics services laboratory by day, began writing about a year and a half ago. After spending more than 30 years looking at paint for clues or blood pattern splatters, Mazzega says he’s not interested in writing about mysteries. For Mazzega, who attends the Port Moody Writing Group and finds moments throughout the day to write or think about his stories, writing is about taking the reader on a journey.

“When I write, I say to people, here, come along with me on this ride. I may scare you, I may make you laugh, I may surprise you,” says Mazzega.