A Chat With Chelsea Vowel

Since Covid, she has embraced planning and outlines

Chelsea Vowel describes herself as a parent, author, freelance writer, public speaker, and sci-fi nerd living in Edmonton, Alberta. “I’m Métis from Lac Ste. Anne, and a citizen of the Otipemisiwak Métis Government in Alberta.”

She sometimes uses the Cree name âpihtawikosisân.

What inspired you to be a writer?

I wanted to be a writer around the time I became a reader. Books have never been just words on a page for me; they are a full-sensory experience. I wanted to be able to create that sort of experience for others, and my intention was always to write fiction. It’s sort of funny that my first published pieces ended up being non-fiction.

When did you know for sure you were one?

There’s a sense I think that “writer” is a professional description, a job title, and you have to earn it in some way. Someone who doesn’t have to have a day job – they just write. I felt it was pretentious to call myself a writer because I wasn’t famous.

It wasn’t until I started talking to other authors that I realized I was being silly. I admired their work and would never dream of telling any of them that they weren’t writers, not really. A writer writes. It doesn’t have to be all the time; it doesn’t have to be published; or result in fame or fortune; it doesn’t have to be your only job. 

How would you describe your work?

My work is all about trying to understand the world and communicate what I understand to others. That’s true whether I’m writing fiction or non-fiction. Every piece is meant to be a conversation. 

What are your primary concerns as a writer?

Increasingly I understand all my work to exist within the same framework — what I jokingly call the Métis in Space Thematic Universe. 

I got Covid in 2019 and it seemed to kick off a host of issues that impacted my ability to focus and be coherent in the effortless way I was before. I’ve had to adapt by becoming more intentional and systematic about how I write.

How do you write? 

In the before-Covid, writing happened whenever I was inspired — or avoiding another deadline. I could write feverishly for hours, even days, without stopping. I just can’t do that anymore. And, to be honest, I wasn’t producing my best work under those conditions.

I took my first writing courses at the end of 2021; they were free through my library, and they completely changed my process. Instead of waiting for deadlines and dread, I started to outline and plan. Once I have a complete outline, I write it out into a physical notebook.

I bought myself a simple word processor; it has almost no editing capabilities and you can’t go online with it. I take that notebook and the word processor, and I write for a few hours at a nice café about three times a week. I don’t let myself stop to edit or think too much — that’s for later.

What do you anticipate experiencing during your trip to the Yukon? 

I’m hoping to hear from young writers about what they want to get out of their writing.  I’m still learning new things about the publishing industry all the time – (and) I really love demystifying the experience for others. 

What sorts of experiences have you had conducting workshops for students?

I’ve been asked into classrooms many times over the last fifteen years. I find that students are usually the best at figuring out what would help them the most, and I roll with it. 

What advice would you give to young people with an interest in writing?

Don’t get hung up on whether you’re “really” a writer — just write. It’s a skill that you have to work on, not just a raw talent you can rely on, and you have to figure out what process works best for you.

Read a TONNE, especially in the genre you work in. Read good writing, but also read terrible writing. Sometimes writers think they should avoid other people’s work, believing it will be too influential – but eventually you will find your own voice and I honestly think that’s easier to do when you’ve really immersed yourself in storytelling.