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 has now spent time with a professional editor, with the result that I have made extensive revisions over the past eight months. I will give it one more thorough read, revise as I go, and then release it.
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, then returned for a five-day seminar conducted by Jennifer Clement (Winter, 2019). Revisions to the second novel meant that Joey played at the edges of my brain for ten months. This winter, I put him front and centre as I began to explore the problem of literacy. Joey made his third appearance in San Miguel (Winter 2020), this time for an intense five-day master class led by Susan Sutliff Brown. Her lessons have given me a sharper focus and a more finely tuned ear. Joey’s story will benefit.
The San Miguel Writers’ Conference is a magical space. I am grateful to have met several talented writers there with whom I still correspond. It’s a full week since I returned home and I miss the immersion, and the daily surprises we brought to class. If there is magic to be made, it’s up to me. Now it’s time to read, write, and to write some more. I could not be happier.
(Updated March 2020)