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.

First Drafts - Ernest Hemingway

Up at 4am to write as usual. It was a good day for writing. I got about 700 words written, which brought the story of David Murdoch up to his immigration to Canada, time in the States, and I am just about to cover his journey back to Canada's West and joining the RNWMP. At this juncture, it feels there is more story telling than academic prose, but first drafts can often feel like that. As Hemingway said: "The first draft of anything is shit." For many writers, they find power in this - as the title of a blog I just found indicated. Also, I like to think of first drafts as more of '0' drafts than first drafts. It then gives me hope that when I get to the first draft, I have the ingredients to create something that will not be understood.

Tomorrow's work will be more about editing than it will be about writing. I've already done some of the work on Murdoch's time with the RNWMP and this will be amalgamated with that which I've been working on for the past two days. That way the first chapter of Murdoch's story will cover from his birth to the end of WWI. The second chapter will cover 1919 to 1928, which takes in his time with the RCMP to 1924, his one year with the Department of Indian Affiars and his three years with the Manitoba Provincial Police (MPP).

One nice thing about the book is that I can now envisage the whole and when that happens the completion is possible. Still, like landing an airplane, the ending is not without its hazards; and like air traffic control, a good editor proves invaluable in determining the smoothness of the landing.

Samuel Johnson & Secondary Sources

Amazing how one moves through the plethora of information that must be digested and processed to write a book. As Samuel Johnson said: “A man will turn over half a library to make one book.” I've been reading the work of SFU Criminologist Robert Menzies, and today found that the province of British Columbia deported hundreds of mentally insane people between Confederation and 1939. This information remains important to the book due to the fact that David Murdoch attempted to get himself deported during the first years of his incarceration. He tried other tactics as well. He also petitioned BC's Lieutenant Governor to be released on the grounds that he wasn't insane. Of course, if he was released, he would have stood trial for the murder of Archie MacDonald - his ex-constable whom he murdered. Courts had found Murdoch not guilty by reason of insanity for the murder of Jean Nolan.

Today I worked further on the first chapter that outlines Murdoch's life in New Cumnock, Scotland. A trip to the dentist yesterday and subsequent freezing made me drowsy. Consequently, I didn't stay awake after getting up at 4am to write. After a 1/2 hour me and the dogs laid down on the couch for a wee nap.

New Cumnock: Scotland's House of Heroes

At this juncture, a great deal of the work for the project has been done. A substantial amount of the archival research has been done, and I'm well into the writing aspect of the project. Although, it should be as I've been working on the project for almost two years. Approximately 30,000 words have been written, and bits of each chapter have begun to take shape. After some revisions and reconsideration, I suspect now that there will be 6 or 7 chapters in the final text. Originally, I was going to have a chapter on the British Columbia Provincial Police and the Okanagan Valley as a frontier, but after consideration, these two chapters have been jettisoned.

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This morning's writing session began either the first chapter or the introduction. This aspect of the book looks at Murdoch's early life in Scotland, his emigration to Canada and the time that he spent in the United States. Interestingly, New Cumnock, the town or Murdoch's birth, has connections to William Wallace, Robert the Bruce and Robbie Burns. It gives the the beginning of the book a rather auspicious opening.

The Murders that Rocked Kelowna

On 19 January 1932 at 5.20 pm, Kelowna’s Police Chief David Murdoch shot Genevieve Nolan seven times outside the Mayfair Hotel. He then walked four blocks south through City Park, reloaded his weapon, and stopped at the Forsbery residence to ask directions to ex-constable Archie McDonald’s residence. Murdoch left, walked next door and shot McDonald five times in his kitchen. On his return home Murdoch visited Thomas Norris, the local barrister, but the lawyer was away in Vancouver. Domestic servant Kitty Carsen testified that Murdoch had also visited the residence of her boss, Police Commissioner Benjamin Boyd. Not finding Boyd he returned to his home on St Paul Street. There he ate his supper and was later arrested without incident by his subordinate Constable William Sands. After three trials and two hung juries the courts found Murdoch not guilty by reason of insanity. He spent twenty-five years in Colquitz Insane Asylum.