Jane Bow knew she wanted to write from an early age. At 12, she took the bold step of sending an editorial piece to the editor of the Ottawa Journal.
It was summarily rejected. 

Undeterred, Bow worked on short stories throughout her teens, kept writing—at Chatelaine Magazine and various newspapers, and while teaching at an Ontario college—and she hasn’t put her fountain pen down since.

Bow’s novella Homeless, was recently shortlisted for the Rubery Book Award in the UK. And while it wasn’t triumphant in its category, the across-the-pond nod was and is still appreciated.

“My little Homeless now wears a Rubery Book Award shortlist sticker,” Bow excitedly tells Capital Daily.

‍Homeless takes place in Ontario, where Bow called Peterborough home for more than four decades. Its main character, who reveals herself only as C, is caught breaking into a majestic old stone house and refuses to tell police, social workers, even her lawyer, what her name is. C is sent to a mental-health hospital where Dr. Elaine Price tries to gain her trust in order to help her.

It’s through the good doctor’s eyes that Homeless is told—as a means to explain to her children how far she is willing to go to help C. 

“What’s happened to this book is a little disheartening, though,” Bow says.

Not long after it was published by Quattro Books, a small Canadian publisher of novellas and poetry, the editors shortlisted Homeless for the 2018 Ken Klonsky Novella Award. But soon afterward the publisher vanished, Bow says.

“So here’s a novella that’s been shortlisted twice for awards, one British, one Canadian, and now has no publishing home.” 

That’s a pity, as this 111-page prose offers a compact glimpse into Bow’s brilliant ability to paint a picture with her chosen words. Bow—who later requested and received her rights to Homeless back from the publisher—often uses personification to bring a sentence or paragraph to life and her words seemingly flow effortlessly.

Well-travelled childhood

The daughter of diplomats, Bow grew up in Canada, the United States—during the McCarthy era—Spain, under Generalissimo Franco’s fascist regime, England, and the then-communist Czechoslovakia.

“The French and British schools I went to could have come out of a Charles Dickens novel,” she says. “My teenage years were spent behind the Iron Curtain.”

If that sounds like fertile ground for a fertile mind to create fiction, the answer Bow says, is “of course” because the experiences gave her a passion for history and the insights behind her life as a creative writer.

“All three of my novels, [Cally’s Way, The Oak Island Affair, Dead and Living] my non-fiction history, and the plays and short stories I have had published explore historical incidents and the effects they have had on the way we live and love today.”

Retired from the education sector and now a Victoria resident, Bow says what a writer writes comes from who they are, and that she says, is shaped by where and how they’ve lived.

“Coming back to Canada to work at Expo ‘67 and then attend university, I was like a cork popped out of a champagne bottle. Visiting my diplomatic parents in Castro’s Cuba was also an influence, as was raising two children in a small Ontario city.”

Bow has an affinity for all her books, but one stands out.

“Cally’s Way, which features a young Canadian woman and intertwines two love stories in Crete, one contemporary, the other in WWII, is about how our identities are rooted in the histories of where our families came from.”

Cally’s Way reached No. 2 on an Edmonton bestseller list, was a featured review in Kirkus Magazine, and in 2014, earned Bow an invitation to Britain’s Folkestone Book Festival.

To this day, Cally’s setting of Crete remains one of Bow’s favourite vacation destinations.

Connecting in India

But the work that brings her the most pride was a play she wrote about the wife of Peterborough’s first doctor, John Hutichison. We’ll let Bow the storyteller pick it up from there.

“One of the highlights of my career though, came through a little play I wrote called Through The Fire, which brought Martha Hutchison, the wife of a pioneer doctor, back to their historic house, now a museum, in Peterborough. Nothing much is known about Martha. The museum is all about John, her husband, who was not a perfect doctor. Banned by the museum after its first run, play readings were presented at several venues, including Trent University. This resulted in an invitation to present my work at several universities in India. After I concluded my reading in Jaipur, in the north Indian desert, a woman in a sari put up her hand. “Thank you for writing this play,” she said, ‘It speaks for me. I am Martha.’ This blew me away as it’s about the silencing of women.”

Behind the scenes ...

Writers often wonder how successful authors operate, and for Bow, it’s all about putting pen to pad first thing in the morning, usually after meditating. She’ll then get on with what she calls the Laundry Level of Life (job, children, chores, the world) before revisiting her words to reread and edit.

Bow uses a fountain pen and writes on smooth blank paper. “Something about the flow of coloured ink frees my mind in ways tacking-tacking straight lines on a keyboard cannot. I then transcribe the writing to my laptop, editing in the process.”

As for what makes a good writer, Bow says it depends on what is meant by “good” and that writers and their books are as diverse as humans. 

“All I know from having taught creative writing for many years is that a feel for language, an understanding of what makes a story, and the drive to pay close attention to what you’re trying to do (over and over) are essential.”

What makes a good read?

“My favourite books are strong, beautifully written stories that contain something of substance, e.g. All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr, Richard Powers’ The Overstory, Barbara Kingsolver’s Demon Copperhead, most recently Amor Towles’ A Gentleman In Moscow.

‍Homeless will be available soon at Munro’s Books in Victoria and at Tanners Books in Sidney. 

You can explore Jane Bow’s work here. 

‍