Sometimes, when I begin reading an Alice Munro story, I am overwhelmed by a sense of "there it is". It's a feeling of immediate and undeniable recognition of familiar elements. Like the beginning of "Nettles", which begins with firmly rooting the reader in a time and place. It is summer.
While Nina was playing tennis, Lewis was killing himself. Readers learn this at the outset. Nina played; Lewis died. Back and forth across the net, Nina volleyed and returned serves; Lewis plunged downward into first unconsciousness, then... Into, what? As a science teacher, who insisted that evolution be taught in classrooms
My grandmother attended All Saints Church. Although I was not a devout child, I have many happy memories surrounding that small brick building: bazaars and bake sales, pancake suppers and holiday lunches. Biblioasis, 2014 None of my happy memories reside in the pews or at the altar, however; they are
With chapters named for the days of the week in Street Angel and with specific dates in a given week in Adult Onset, these two novels seem to make ideal reading companions. Ultimately, much of literary fiction is preoccupied with time. Whether it is Molly Bloom's day in James Joyce's
Coming Home: Stories from the Northwest Territories (Enfield & Wizenty, 2012) In the foreword, Richard Van Camp writes that this collection is a "testament to the beauty of the land, the communities and the people who choose to live here" and he welcomes readers to the works. The same words might
