Thank you, Leonard, for showing up last night. His house is big, tiered, with a wide front door. It’s remote, at the end of a long winding drive. He’d left notes, a letter, pictures, that were also mine. Perhaps he was sorry. His young lover lets me read...
Since completing the first draft of my current novel in Banff this spring my focus has been on editing and revising, I haven’t done a lot of wild fresh writing. This weekend when I visited my friend Sue Reynolds we sat down to write together. She shared her...
Just before sunrise ceremony on the morning of my wedding in 1995, Elder Vern Harper turned to me and said, “You need to learn from your own culture; your own roots,” to which I replied something to the effect of, “But I like yours better – as a white Anglo-Saxon...
I have recently signed with New York agent, Stephany Evans of FinePrint Literary Management. Everyone I’ve told understandably wants to know what’s next, when will it be published, how much have I been paid, etc. Which is hilarious given the reality that...
I should be doing something, such as write a poem or iron a shirt, make a list or sweep the floor; instead, I’m standing in the sharp air of November wondering at the state of the moon. I am filled with old ideas and resolutions that warp my legs. In my effort to...
The thing about waiting is that it’s almost always about wanting something else; something other – not this and not here. We wait for the offer, the start, the change, or the end. Sending an email, one waits for a response. Applying for a job, one waits...
