If you were to speak to my husband, or my sons, they would tell you that I write about the things that worry me: the gist of potential nightmares. It’s true. However, they might leave out the fact that I seldom lose sleep. That’s because I tussle with the issues that could keep me awake and tease them apart—thread by thread—until I can weave them into stories that I understand. My readers say that I engage, entertain, and challenge them. Autumn’s Grace, my first novel, which addresses palliative care, is available in print and electronic formats at Chapters-Indigo, Amazon, All Lit Up, and through my publisher, Inanna Publications.

My second novel wrestles with my worries about ageing and health care. I’ve created a story told through conversations among four seventy-something women who are fit, healthy and irreverent as they tackle a seemingly impossible project. These ladies went AWOL for two years after my head collided with a cement overhang in December 2014. They returned, noisy and opinionated, in January 2017. I was delighted. This manuscript spent the month of June (2018) with a fine editor. After much revision, it’s back in her hands for three weeks. The search for a publisher will begin early in 2020.

My third novel is also about something that worries me—literacy. I have created a bright, eight-year-old boy, Joey, whom I adore. He came to me at a workshop (2018) with Tawni Waters in San Miguel, but the after-effects of a second concussion (October 2017) meant that he immediately hid from creative access. Joey returned, once again, in San Miguel. This time he stayed through a five-day seminar conducted by Jennifer Clement (winter, 2019) and accompanied me back to Canada.

I am enormously grateful for the magic of San Miguel and the talented writers who led me to this third project. Joey had to wait his turn though. Revision of the second manuscript and creation of a third one, seemed to be mutually exclusive activities. But Joey’s time has now come. While the second manuscript is with an editor, Joey plays, and struggles to read, at the edges of my brain 24/7. And me? I could not be happier.