Critics & the Royal North-West Mounted Police

Some times the simple thing in writing are the most arduous - like how many words, are the references correct and is that word spelled correctly? The question becomes, are these tough questions, or do we as writers simply use these small task as excuses for procrastination. In reality, one of the biggest challenges of writing, is putting words on the page. As many professional writers will propound, a writer need to separate the writing process from the editing process. These are entirely separate procedures, but difficult to separate when attempting to put words down on the page. For most of us the editor sits there, like a web cam, constantly critiquing our prose. As Annie Lamont writes: "A critic is someone that goes on the battlefield after the wars been fought and shoots the wounded."

So, my research assistant, who is also one of my students, has been 'keeping me honest' by hounding me for a new post. She even went so far as to accuse me of lying, by saying that I would put up this post a couple of days ago. OK, so it might be true that I've been a bit tardy, but that does not mean that I have not been at work on the book. At this point it looks good for having a draft of the first chapter done by the end of the week - even with leaving for Ontario on Friday. So, in between teaching and applying for jobs I've been writing about Murdoch's year in the Royal North-West Mounted Police immediately before the war. His experience during the year tells of rampant drunkenness amongst personnel, NCOs and officers. Also, he reveals how constables and corporals fobbed off their patrols to--in many cases--spend time with girlfriends. Murdoch's experience and stories about his time as a RNWMP constable debunks the shining image of the immmaculate red-tunic and polished boots.