The Tribune

Writing is like sex. There’s that playing around with ideas before hand, the ejaculation of ideas on paper, and in one sweeping moment of inspiration the climax (of the story) comes, bringing everything to an end soon after. So why is it so much better to “do it” in Montreal? What is it about this city that makes it a great place for writers? After all, The Quebec Writers’ Federation dubbed Montreal the World Book Capital in 2005.

Do you use your extra spending money to buy books you may never get around to reading? Can you envision yourself 40 years from now spending three fourths of the day in your lavish mahogany library? Do you stroll along bookstore shelves just to “browse” and end up buying three unnecessary items? If you answered yes to any of these questions, then you have a clinical obsession with books.

Force your foot in the door, says Alex Grossi, and while she could be talking about any job, she is referring to television screenwriting. A lucrative and highly interesting position, screenwriting for TV has taken off in the past decade as the number of channels looking for the next “hit show” has expanded exponentially.

It’s likely that the average McGill student reads more words per day off of a computer screen than from in his or her books. Material for essays, labs and other class work are readily available on a number of databases – the most useful of which are even paid for by McGill.

When the Beatles sang about “the dirty story of a dirty man,” who longs to be a “Paperback Writer,” they accurately depicted the stereotypes that still surround popular genre fiction. You know the type; you might even know it intimately. Trashy romance novels, fantastical sci-fi, horror stories, detective mysteries, even the more highly acclaimed chick lit and dick lit genres fit into this category.

Montreal is a politically charged city in a politically charged province; even the most insulated McGill ghetto resident knows that. When put to the task, it is a good bet that most students could also tell you a bit about Quebec’s beef with Canada, Canada’s beef with Quebec, and do a half-decent impression of Jean Chretien (hint: as you’re talking, move your mouth like you are, in fact, chewing beef).

During a drunken night out on the town, no one thinks to question the political affiliation of his or her favourite street. Enjoying the bars on St-Denis? You might be promoting a military regime. Walking along Stanley? You could be a potential colonizing bastard.

The shiny brochures in the Welcome Centre may romanticize student life, but they cannot exaggerate this fact: McGill is a unique institution. As an internationally renowned, English university located in the centre of a French-speaking province, most McGill students come in contact with a tongue that they do not understand every day, whether it be French, Arabic or Japanese.

As informatiive – and enthralling – as student textbooks are, in order to be a truly knowledgeable student in Montreal, it is important to read the city newspapers (no, the Tribune doesn’t count). Although McGill is situated in the heart of one of the most socially and politically active cities in Canada, many students are unaware of what happens beyond the campus gates.

As the so-called “Harvard of the north,” McGill is well known both within Canada and internationally for its high academic standards. Students of this lauded institution like to think that their diploma will grant them an edge over other recent grads in the Canadian job market and place them somewhere near the top of the graduate school application pile.