I am always amazed by those people who profess to read 100 books a year. This year I managed 20, outside of those I read as a publisher. Of those 20 the following are my top five favourites and ones I’d recommend. Such a Long Journey, by Rohinton Mistry: one of those remarkable confluences of astonishingly beautiful writing, tightly crafted plot, and fully-developed characterization. A Paradigm of Earth, by founder, and fellow SF Canada member…
One of my favourite carols, in remembrance of Mr. Borov, my grades 9-10 Spanish teacher, from whom I learned a love of languages, music, and seeing beyond the sphere of my own isolated and provincial world. I remember a Christmas assembly where students and staff performed for the entire school during an afternoon. There were the usual silly skits and loud garage bands. And then Mr. Borov, a small man, barrel-chested, porcelain skin and dark…
Apparently I need a lot of kitchen therapy this week. Sunday I treated us to a wonderful feed of ribs. They were so ridiculously easy, and just wildly yummy, I thought I’d share that experiment as well. Festive Ribs 1 pkg (about 16 ounces) fresh or frozen cranberries 3 Clementine oranges (or one large regular orange) 2 large cloves garlic 1 large onion 1 tablespoon Tobasco Sauce 1 cup maple syrup 1/4 cup balsamic vinegar…
Available in print and digital What does this have to do with writing? Probably not much directly. Having said that, I have published two cookbooks, the most recent of which is Stonehouse Cooks. And as an adjunct to that I find kitchen therapy, well, good therapy. Take today, for instance. It’s been a day of frustrations, between trying in my role as publisher at Five Rivers to edit, save and upload an interview I…
Thought I’d offer my readers a wee Christmas garland of three short stories this year I wrote over 20 years ago, which came about in part to chronicle some of my mother’s childhood experiences entitled Memories, Mother and a Christmas Addiction. They’re sort of Rockwellian vignettes with what I think is a very Canadian overtone. The first, Santa and Mr. Buck, captures the excitement of four year old Barbara Brown on Christmas Eve, and her…
Perhaps it’s my seasonal dysfunction, lack of light; the month of mayhem and rampant consumerism and delusional dreams of Rockwell realities. Perhaps it (my cynicism and raised eyebrow) is nothing more than a passing malady, like indigestion or flatulence or that plague that everyone south of me seems to suffer. Today’s grump is about marketers, self-proclaimed experts who mouth buzz words and scry trends in the entrails of the day’s news, declaiming that they, and…