The pain of losing her position at the Vocational Bureau was moderated by the thrill of winning the first prize in the annual contest of Canadian writers of the Women’s Canadian Club. In April 1931 she was awarded its $100 prize in a ceremony in the concert hall of the King Edward Hotel. This was a major award. It was only the second time in eleven years that the Club had offered its prize for poetry and True defeated 190 other contestants from as far away as Siam to win. Stories about her win appeared in all of the major Toronto papers.
The poem, “Muses of the Modern Day” was, she said, “designed to meet the contention of many that modern subject matter did not lend itself to poetry.”5 According to a newspaper account she said “with much modesty” that winning the prize “had given her the most thrilling moment of her life.” The same article also noted that “she had written poetry since she was five years old, but it was not until a little over a year ago that she submitted any for publication” and quoted her as saying “It was not until after I left the publishing company that I had courage to submit my poetry for publication. I had been subdued by the horror of being one of those awful persons whose perpetrations editors dread.”6 True continued to regard herself as being first and foremost a writer for the rest of her life. Charlotte Maher told me that True always “saw herself as a researcher and writer. What she was, was one terrific politician, but that wasn’t part of her image of herself.” Doris Tucker remembered a time when all the municipal candidates had to list their occupation. True first wrote down “Mayor” but, when Doris told her she couldn’t do that, changed it to writer. In a column written after her retirement from politics, True talked about how after leaving public life she had moved “into the field of study and writing, where I [have] always felt I really belonged.”7
Encouraged by the win, True succeeded in having several poems published that year. She wrote a number for articles for various publications, including The Canadian Forum, The New Outlook, and The Globe and Mail. Her first magazine story, “Help Wanted,” was published in the September 1931 issue of Chatelaine. It is difficult to determine how many of her poems, stories and plays were published since only a few of her manuscripts have also been kept in printed form among her papers. She also submitted manuscripts under many pseudonyms including the names Susan Finnie, Margaret Danelaw, Bard Pentecost, E.S.B. Finnie, Peggy Dane, Maple Wilder, and, believe it or not, Flower LeStrange!
J.M. Dent & Sons published a book of her poetry, called Muses of the Modern Day and Other Days, that same year which received excellent reviews. A.M. Stephen wrote in The Vancouver Province that:
Miss Davidson...will challenge comparison with any of the women who are given prominence among Canadian poets....Her best lines and many of her poems ring with sincerity and carry conviction....Strength is seldom an outstanding characteristic of the artistic work of women. Yet, if we are to have poetry expressive of this modern age, it will have to be more than decorative or reminiscent of the modes of a bygone day....She is alive to the fact that this is the age of machinery, of psychology, of intellectual unrest and disillusion. This author can think. Her work is valuable because it mirrors the reactions of a sensitive woman who has faced life shoulder to shoulder with men and who has bravely taken the bitter with the sweet in the struggle for existence. Her poetry reflects life rather than the “the realms of gold” in which the sheltered woman takes refuge from reality.8
E.J. Pratt’s review in The Canadian Student noted that “this little book of poems...is marked by a distinct individuality and by a light lyrical movement which never gives the impression of mere facility ...there is no trace of immaturity in the work. The forms are varied but always under fine control and—what is just as gratifying—the content is rich enough to repay reflection on the part of the reader. One realizes that the writer has something to say as well as to feel, that underneath the moods there is a basis of ideas.”9
Although a critical success, the book enjoyed only limited commercial success. Perhaps that is why True clipped and kept among her papers a poem by Frances Bragan Richman which began, “ They tell me poetry doesn’t pay/And they’re right, I suppose, in a practical way. Since what does it profit a rose to bloom/Like a lamp in summer’s living room?”10
With the loss of her salary from the Vocational Bureau, True had to scramble to supplement the small income made from her writing. Her letterhead from 1932 listed her as doing “Manuscript Criticism, Revision, Research, Statistical Work, Typing, Placement”11 and there is a small advertising card in her files in which she advertised a course for “Current Literature Groups” that she was leading. The same flyer also advertised that she would provide special lectures on topics as varied as, “The Straw Scarecrow and other Dictators, The Matriarchal Tradition, These Crazy Poets, A Trip to China in Novel Company, Women at War” and noted that she would provide “similar Topical Talks for professional and other specialized organizations. Fees according to numbers and purpose.”12 Among some of the groups to whom she spoke were the Lyceum Women’s Art Association, where she criticized modern poetry, and the Lynbrook School Dramatic Club, where she spoke about amateur theatricals, “stressing the possibilities and pitfalls open to beginners.” 13 Many years later, True was asked by a shy student about her public speaking. Clara Thomas wrote that “the reply was one of the most unforgettable pictures of True that she treated us to. “I practise in front of a mirror,” she said. “I’ve practised all over, sometimes in hotel rooms, before a mirror, wearing the hat I’m going to speak in, and my slip.”14
True Davidson, 1923, age 22. Courtesy David Cobden
Another of her schemes was an attempt to work up orders for a book of poems from the shop owners along Bloor Street which they could use both as advertising and as incentives for their customers. Under this enterprising scheme she proposed to publish 1,000 copies of her poems which had been inspired by the scenes along Bloor Street; to sell three hundred of them through bookstores; and to distribute the remaining seven hundred to a selected list of addresses in Rosedale and the Annex or (for an extra fee) to the preferred customers of the sponsoring firms along with their card. All advertisers were to have their name and address also shown at the bottom of the poem they had inspired.15 She got an estimate on the cost of printing the book from the T.H. Best Printing Co. which described it as having “64 pages...28 pages small cuts, quarter bound, cloth back and paper board sides.” She went as far as to have them prepare dummies in October 193316, but she was never able to sign up sufficient subscribers to have it published.
While her money-making activities were a constant struggle, True enjoyed several successes in other areas as she continued her involvement with left-wing organizations and took part in debates and other activities at the university and with the University Women’s Club and the Business and Professional Women’s Club. A review of one of this latter group’s debates noted that “the subject of the debate was: “Resolved, that business women make the best wives.” The affirmative was upheld by Miss Jane McDowall and Miss Helen Lynn, and Miss True Davidson and Miss Mary Dale Muir were on the negative side. The argument proved an amusing one, and the result was lost in the laughter of the audience.”17 At another debate, the University of Toronto Womens’ Union declared that they would prefer to be Agnes MacPhail than film star Mary Pickford.18
In April 1931, True was awarded a $100 prize from the Women’s Canadian Club for “the best poem written in Canada that year.” Shortly afterwards a collection of her poetry was published which received several glowing reviews and which heralded her work as challenging in “comparison