Yesterday I attended the Ontario Writers’ Conference in Ajax Ontario. It was a heart-breakingly beautiful sunny day, and I wondered aloud if I really needed another writers’ conference. I’d already pitched to two of the agents at another conference,...
In 1982 or thereabouts, Cross-Canada Writers’ Quarterly accepted my short story, Oblique Angles for publication, with a note that went something like this: …although there are many better written stories, yours is au courant… In other words, your...
Maybe I’m intolerant. Maybe I’m a snob. Understand, I like a glass of wine or beer from time to time; occasionally, on particularly festive occasions, I like a Margarita. Two, even. And don’t get me wrong, I love a sensuous tumble perhaps more than the next guy....
I have just returned from two weeks of divine restoration on the Pacific coast of Costa Rica, which included but was not restricted to, languid morning yoga practice, guided on-the-spot writing, a salt water pool, an endless unsullied beach, the occasional margarita,...
