Queen’s Graduate Conference in Literature, May 24+25, 2024 - Writer of Call for Papers
Call for Papers | Divergence: Departures from the Canon
The Graduate English Society at Queen’s University seeks abstracts for its 2024 hybrid conference, “Divergence: Departures from the Canon.” This conference will feature both academic work and creative writing that speak to divergence, which the Oxford English Dictionary defines as “moving off in different directions from the same point (…) so that the intervening distance continually increases.” The canon, though omnipresent and formidable in the field of literary studies, resists specific definition. What is “the canon”? There are few concepts that are so relatively defined, yet produce such a singular affect in practice. We are eager to see diverse interpretations of the literary canon, including divergence from traditionally accepted scholarly sources.
“Divergence: Departures From The Canon” aims to open avenues of exploration that expand from canonical texts, authors, forms, perspectives, and institutions. In the world of fan communities, the designation “Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence” has been used to demarcate works that contradict, extend, reimagine, and reject their canonical source material. Divergence from the canonical can provide opportunities to critically examine the landscape of literary analysis and of the fictional canon, inviting reflections on who and what is considered to be a canonized author or text, and why.
We welcome academic presentations and creative works that incorporate divergence or convergence as subject matter. Creative writers are invited to respond to any of the aforementioned prompts and topics, and to consider how their creative work re-envisions a boundless literary imagination, resisting canons in terms of form, genre, narrative, and time. How can the imagination be a radical tool of divergence towards change?
Topics of interest may include, but are not limited to:
Divergence in form
Adaptation; film; podcast; digital; “low culture” media
Genderbending, genderswap, trans readings of text
Divergence in content
Non-canonical texts and authors
Resistant reading of the canon
The canon in conversation with the ‘other’
Divergence in approach
Multidisciplinary or multi-theoretical approaches
Canonical & non-canonical curricula in pedagogy
Divergence from convention and institution
Fanworks, fan studies, and fan communities (Fanfiction.net, Tumblr, Ao3, TikTok)
Forms of literary product (laypeople, blogs, student critiques)
Independent scholarship and non-traditional academic pathways
Divergence from reality/realism
Nonlinearity, stream of consciousness, free indirect discourse, anachronisms.
Fantasy and new worlds: Alternative mapping, non-normative time, boundless movement.
Divergence from established narratives
Archival studies
Historical narratives
Academic presentations will be 15 to 20 minutes long. Abstracts between 200-300 words can be submitted via the Google Form linked below. If 3 presenters would like to collaborate and propose a panel, please use x section in order to do so. Please specify in your application whether you expect to participate in person or online.
Nordicfest 2016 - blog post for The Trail Shop
I’ve been an alpine skier my entire life. I’ve been comfortable on skis for almost as long as I’ve been able to walk. When I was young, winter weekends were almost always spent at the hill —setting out at sunrise, only leaving when it got dark and exhaustion had rendered me motionless. I’d have to be carried to bed by either Mom or Dad, totally spent and dreaming of next time.
I’ve always thought that cross country skiing would be boring. Pointless. Mundane.
Nordic Fest proved me wrong on all counts.
Imagine trails illuminated by candle-light. Imagine children bundled so tightly, that you can only see their noses poking out of their snowsuits. Imagine s’mores being roasted over a charcoal stove, and the smell of burnt marshmallows mixed with crisp pine air. Words don’t quite do it justice.
Nordic Fest is what we dream about when we dream about Winter. It’s where you can see why Canadians are proud of being from the North. The snow muffles all of the normal forest sounds, leaving the pines to stand alone in their quiet solitude. There’s a DJ spinning some sweet tunes, and a bunch of snowshoers cutting a rug under the stars. There’s cider, hot chocolate, and obstacle courses. And at the end, fireworks.
It’s all put together by a wonderful committee, whose passion and enthusiasm for the event shine in every detail.
No one had to carry me to bed this time, but I went to sleep dreaming of cross country skiing, Martock, and Nordic Fest
Kejimkujik and Embracing Winter - blog post for The Trail Shop
I’ve never really been much for winter. When Halloween ends, I usually start walking around with my shoulders up to my ears, bracing for the cold that I know will come. Sure, it’s fun in the beginning. Those first few days of crisp, rosy cheek weather, getting excited when there’s a little bit of snow on the ground. Everyone likes a white Christmas, right?
But then, January hits. Suddenly, the days are short, but somehow feel longer. Slush creeps through the holes in the bottom of my shoes. The wind cuts through my coat to my bones, and the chill stays there until May. I go through several tubes of chapstick.
This is how it goes every year. That terrible dread that I’ve built up ruins winter before it even has a chance to start — and living on Canada’s East Coast, we’re usually in for a long one. I’ve decided that instead of bearing winter like a burden, I’ll embrace it. I’ll become a winter person.
I started with Kejimkujik National Park.
It’s difficult to describe the tranquility and beauty of a hike through a snow covered forest. What words could I use to say that the forest feels like it’s asleep? I feel the need to tread lightly and whisper, to avoid disturbing it. The sharp smells of pine and spruce hang in the air. The breeze sends dustings of snow off of the drowsy branches, making the air shimmer in the mid-morning light. The Mersey River runs beside us, oblivious even to its own immovable force; carving a path of its own.
We have beautiful places here in Nova Scotia. And sure, some of them might be more enjoyable in the summer. But, winter creates a type of magic that no one can quite understand. It’s a time for reflection; a time to see who we want to be in the world. If we can get out and actually enjoy it, maybe it won’t seem so long. If we can forget about the salt on our boots, the icy sidewalks, and cold hands on the steering wheel, we can embrace the things that really matter: The outdoors, and the love of our home.
I left Keji that day feeling warmer. Thank you, Nova Scotia, for being the weird, wonderful, ever-changing place that you are. Thank you for giving me a winter that I can choose to love.
