Of the book, the members of this year's peer assessment committee—Mahak Jain, Lee Edward Födi and Marianne Ferrer—say:
"A vibrant ode to swimming where joy is yours for the taking as soon as you jump in, When You Can Swim transforms fear into a rushing wave of eager anticipation. The sumptuous use of colour and texture brings water to life in an array of settings, depicting it as a central character in a wondrous celebration of the breadth of a child’s abilities. It especially reaches out to those who have historically been excluded from learning to swim."
Jack Wong is a writer and illustrator born in Hong Kong and raised in Vancouver, British Columbia. In 2010, he left behind a life as a bridge engineer to pursue his Bachelor of Fine Arts at NSCAD University in Kjipuktuk/Halifax, Nova Scotia; he has called the East Coast home ever since. Working as a children’s author and illustrator, Jack seeks to share his winding journey with young readers so that they may embrace the unique amalgams of experiences that make up their own lives.
**
Imagine you could spend a day with any author, living or dead. Who would you choose, what would you do, and what would you talk about?
As a children’s author, the farthest thing from what I do is the sprawling, nebulous but expertly interwoven novel. I’ve always been fascinated by how—in both the abstract and the most nuts-and-bolts senses—someone actually achieves that, and I can’t think of a better person to ask than Ann-Marie MacDonald. (She would probably be annoyed at me for being so basic, so I’ll let her choose the venue.) I’d also ask her how she’s able to write from a child’s perspective that’s so convincing yet full of adult reflexivity and pathos (my favourite incarnation being Madeleine in The Way the Crow Flies)—it’s a stunning balancing act.
What advice would you give your ten-year-old self about the future?
With all the twists and turns my journey has taken, by way of first completing a degree in engineering, I’ve often asked myself if I wouldn’t rather have gone straight into the arts. My answer is "probably not": I just can’t imagine going back and changing the things that give me the perspective I have now. So I would probably just tell my ten-year-old self that things will work out: one day he’ll be comfortable in his own skin, his palms will get less sweaty and talking to strangers will be more fun than it is terrifying.
Your book When You Can Swim explores the experience of a young child learning to swim. Why was it important for you to illustrate and tell this story?
I actually didn’t set out to write about swimming, nor had I previously given much thought to advocating for others to learn. Swimming outdoors is a common pastime around my home and for my friends and family, but it may surprise some people that I actually find it kind of daunting and uncomfortable. Each time, I need a big mental push to get in the water, even if I’m invariably glad afterwards that I took the plunge.
Comments here
comments powered by Disqus