Facts are only the random detritus of our lives until they are connected by story. Stories, to paraphrase Robert Kroetsch, make us real. If there is anything like truth accessible to us in the world, it must be through the ways we tell of ourselves to each other. Tomson Highway's
I can no longer claim that reading about grown-up Anne is boring, when that would clearly mean I, as a grown-up, must be boring too. So I have had to come up with other reasons to avoid reading the final Anne book. Knowing what a chore it was for LMM
There are five windows on the cover of Sigal Samuel's debut novel; in only one of them does a pair of people appear. Freehand Books, 2015 In three of the windows there is a solitary silhouette, and in the window at the top, the blind is nearly pulled to
This year I have read some stand-out collections, but for the most part I neglected to take notes from them: Joy Williams' Honored Guests, Kathleen Winter's The Freedom in American Songs, Jessica Grant's Making Light of Tragedy, Shawn Syms' Nothing Looks Familiar, Elaine McCluskey's Hello, Sweetheart, Julia Leggett's Gone South and Other
Strangely enough, although I read this story twice earlier this year as well, when I scanned the table of contents I could not place it. Planning to reread for a third time this morning, I had no idea; it wasn't until the talk of the truck and Roy's need to gather the wood
