It’s not often that a literary workshop draws you so deeply into a speaker’s world — but that’s exactly what it was like sitting through Richard Van Camp’s three-hour session on the opening day of this year’s Saskatchewan Festival of Words.

Held at the Moose Jaw Centre for Arts and Culture (MJCAC) on July 17, the intimate workshop saw about 20 people gathered around tables with coffee in hand, ready to soak up what Van Camp called “30 years of lessons from the front lines of full-time writing.”

Before the workshop began, Van Camp made a point of welcoming everyone personally. When I walked into the room, he offered a warm handshake, helped me find a seat, and offered me a cup of coffee — a small act that set the tone for a generous, good-humoured, and often deeply personal session.

Forgoing slides and scripted delivery, Van Camp shared his message through rich, engaging stories.

During a break, he told me about a journalist friend who was once sent to photograph a man deemed criminally insane at a northern facility. The man had hacked away at his own hair in uneven chunks, unable to possess a mirror for fear of self-harm. When the journalist found him in an open-air court, sunflowers bloomed behind his twisted smile. He snapped the photo and fled, only to later burn it when the developed print “appeared to be pure evil.” “You’ll remember that one,” he said. And I will.

That’s Van Camp’s power: he teaches by embedding meaning into vivid, unforgettable narratives.

Throughout the workshop, he passed around examples of his work — from graphic novels like A Blanket of Butterflies and Roth to youth literature, novels like Beast, and short story collections. One by one, he opened a window into how his characters are built, where his stories come from, and why he often sets them in fictional northern communities.

“Never be afraid to create fictional places,” he told us. Van Camp described Fort Simmer — his fictional community — as a kind of creative “get out of jail free” card. Loosely based on real places such as Fort Smith and Trout Lake, the fictional setting allows him to explore personal and community truths while giving readers the freedom to see themselves in the stories without feeling judged, uncomfortable, or defensive.

Another key takeaway: “All great literature is about a compelling character with a problem,” he said, echoing advice from an editor. The challenge, he noted, is in making that character compelling in a new way — and then letting the story do its healing work.

Van Camp emphasized the importance of building multi-dimensional characters, urging writers to consider elements such as name, age, background, personal history, fears, desires, and family dynamics. These details, he noted, help create characters that feel emotionally resonant and real.

“I’ve always said that writing is like combing (through) cold, tangled hair,” he said. “Our job every day is to show up with a brush. Sometimes you get the snag, and sometimes you get the sweep. Both are important, because when you’re not writing, those subconscious muscles are working on your story whether you realize it or not.”

Van Camp, of Dene ancestry, spoke to the need for more Indigenous stories with the same epic scope as Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings — rich, imaginative worlds rooted in Indigenous cultures and tradition. He encouraged writers to dream big and create narratives that reflect their heritage while captivating global audiences.

I walked away with a few notes scribbled down and a renewed respect for the craft of storytelling.

If the Festival of Words is a celebration of storytelling, then Van Camp’s workshop was a masterclass on why stories matter — especially the ones that come from home, from grief, from truth, and from the sacred.

To learn more, visit RichardVanCamp.com or FestivalOfWords.com.

Aaron Walker

Reporter

Moose Jaw Express