Writing Excerpts

Excerpts from TOK: Writing the New Toronto - Book 6
- On a Night Like This
  
  November rain, the beginning of winter and the last leaves trampled into a dense, wet mat of browns. The sky had been a thick sheet of grey for three days so rain was almost a relief, although it now felt as though it would last for weeks.
  
  Sheila Murray
  
  Emerging Voice 2010
- Metropolis Redux
  
  The city sometimes forgets where she lives. The streets are confused. Air of cinders and flowers, the nerves of the boulevards on edge. Parks desert themselves. The address of her future uncertain.
  
  Rishma Dunlop
  
  Writer/Mentor 2010
- Grace
  
  Gracie stands at the window, arms akimbo, and looks through her reflection to the front lawn. In her transparent body, grass sprouts where her heart should be. It’s patchy. Choked with weeds.
  
  Alicia Peres
  
  Emerging Voice 2010
- Foreign Exchange
  
  Vincent walked to the back of the plane, to the very back where the seats didn’t properly recline, took his place by the window and hoped without much conviction that the two empty seats beside him would remain that way. Flight 966 left Toronto for Barbados every morning and it always seemed to be full.
  
  David Layton
  
  Writer/Mentor 2010
- II. Blackbirds at the Money Mart
  
  What sight could prepare us for / our children failing? / New mothers / flutter past meat markets on Bloor, / their mascara thick as lace, looking past / pensioners puffing by the sports café, / Eritrean men and their talk of progress ...
  
  Phoebe Wang
  
  Emerging Voice 2010
- A Shout from God
  
  Lily doesn’t consider herself religious, but when her mother’s illness overwhelms her, she goes to Holy Martyrs. They have the best music of all the churches in Toronto’s west end. None of that modern stuff; it’s traditional all the way.
  
  Terri Favro
  
  Emerging Voice 2010
- Vivek
  
  Mr. V.K. Goswami was quite alone since his orange calico died the previous year. His studio apartment, though small and cluttered, felt vacant without her. He did sometimes think of taking a streetcar to the Toronto Humane Society, but on reflection decided another cat could never replace this particular calico.
  
  Pradeep Solanki
  
  Emerging Voice 2010
- When Belle Walked Along Spadina
  
  Whenever Belle walked along Spadina, the shopkeepers would leap from the comfort of their worn stools to offer her the juiciest orange or the most luscious square of strawberry cheesecake. Schwartz, who owned the lady’s apparel store, would attempt to lure her into his premises by showing off his most glamorous red frock.
  
  Joyce Wayne
  
  Emerging Voice 2010
- 2 Dream in Colour
  
  Eye use 2 dream in colour / Prisms of inner eagle visions // Pastel spring High Park bloom colour / Rich velveteen Rouge Valley autumn colour / Feathers of winged ones ...
  
  Mahlikah Awe:ri
  
  Emerging Voice 2010
- Handicap
  
  Mira stared and stared at her iPhone, her sweaty thumb digging into the touchscreen just below the stored text message. A victim of an “e-breakup,” she could no longer regard the phenomenon as an urban legend. Such things really do happen to adults over thirty in monogamous relationships.
  
  Joanne Pak
  
  Emerging Voice 2010
- Hunger
  
  It was a glimpse. A shadow across a busy midday street disappearing through a doorway into darkness. But twenty yards further up, in front of the No Frills he’d been heading to, Gladwyn is sure. The cards of memory are shuffled and dealt like flashes of light, and he’s certain.
  
  Martin Mordecai
  
  Writer/Mentor 2010
- At the Klondike Bar
  
  Aroused by possibility / My fingers tilt to form a magic frame // And suddenly we are not at Mel’s all night Montreal deli in Toronto ...
  
  Sarah Feldbloom
  
  Emerging Voice 2010
- Annie and Freda
  
  Freda blows back into town on a Sunday. Annie is facing away from the counter when the door opens, her sleeves rolled up, elbow deep in a batch of chilled coffee mix. She’s concentrating on stirring steadily, with enough force to dissolve the sugar but not enough to take it over the edge.
  
  Jennifer Marston
  
  Emerging Voice 2010
- Heels
  
  Stephanie struggled to shove her feet into red stilettos outside the cheap-looking door she’d just closed. As her foot found its nook, toes reassuringly squeezed by reinforced satin, she thought she could hear the man on the other side of the door, just barely audible: “Fucking squaw bitch.”
  
  Alicia Elliott
  
  Emerging Voice 2010
- Switch
  
  Snazzy pauses at the corner of a brick building at the edge of Moss Park. The ground reeks of pee and puke. Looking upward, she sees the tip of the steeple on the old stone church.
  
  Lynda Allison
  
  Emerging Voice 2010
- the inviolable heart
  
  It is my fifth birthday and I become aware. A canary is trapped inside my chest cavity. Its claws cannot grip the slippery bones of my rib cage. It flies in circles searching for a safe place to rest. It finally perches on the conical pouch that forms the left ventricle of my heart.
  
  Jo SiMalaya Alcampo
  
  Emerging Voice 2010
- Personal Treasures
  
  I have to move. I have to move both myself and my treasure chest out of Parkdale. I knew my time here was limited: I knew it the first time I saw a café where a cup of coffee cost over two dollars; I knew it when the condominiums started going up. My last apartment was going to be renovated when they turned the dive bar below it into a swanky lounge. It must rent now for twice as much as I paid, as it’s right on Queen.
  
  Dorianne Emmerton
  
  Emerging Voice 2010
- For Jackson and the Chase
  
  “The trick,” she told me, “is to always keep moving. And if you do look back, for whatever reason, be ready for the commotion.” When no one else was watching we covered our ears with our hands, elbows angled outward as if to ward off double-fisted blows, keeping our eyes wide open.
  
  Faye Guenther
  
  Emerging Voice 2010
- That Question: Notes Toward a Poetics of Truth
  
  The door slams—she / The door slams—she cannot / The door slams—she cannot remember / The door slams and she stumbles down the steps...
  
  Karen Connelly
  
  Writer/Mentor 2010
Excerpts from TOK: Writing the New Toronto - Book 5
- Words, Dancing on My Skin
  
  Her head was slightly tilted and her cigarette dangled from the corner of her mouth. She placed her ear close to the cool, green rind of a watermelon and knocked. She caught me staring.
  
  Anthony De Sa
  
  Writer/Mentor 2009
- mud pigeon
  
  There was a time at Dufferin station when the black / lines that ridged that mud pigeon’s wings reminded me of wound / stripes on a war uniform...
  
  Amy Dennis
  
  Emerging Voice 2009
- Around the Way
  
  I didn’t realize how big Toronto was until my dad dragged me along on his missions. He’d load me up with toys and candy and tell me to keep my arm inside the opened window.
  
  Michael Fraser
  
  Emerging Voice 2009
- Tableau Vivant
  
  Clara’s well into her thirties now, but she can hoof it enough for the chorus line, and hold a tune if it’s catchy. It’s her first season touring with Sam T. Jack’s Creoles, “the pre-eminent terpsichorean diversions of the day in the Afro-American line.”
  
  Emma Donoghue
  
  Writer/Mentor 2009
- the menu in my heart is all wrong
  
  my stare / goes from the plate / to the dainty language on the menu Golden Baskets, a tiny quintet / of brittle pastry shells...
  
  Chang Liu
  
  Emerging Voice 2009
- A Change of Seasons
  
  Amba sits alone in her brother’s small basement rental, warming her hands around a cup of tea. Bars of weak sunlight dip in through the window, painting stripes on the vinyl flooring and over the pile of laundry she has gathered.
  
  Karishma Kripalani
  
  Emerging Voice 2009
- Circus
  
  As soon as I saw him leaning up against the tent’s support wires, his shoulders hunched to keep the rain out of his collar, I knew he’d be the photograph that would make the cover that month.
  
  Marni Van Dyk
  
  Emerging Voice 2009
- these are things that grow in winter
  
  cold weather birds / redouble efforts, / wrenching / invisible crumbs / from dirty ice...
  
  Chelsea Gamble
  
  Emerging Voice 2009
- Jewels
  
  Eva had light brown skin that was as smooth and glossy as polished stone. Carol always wondered how it was that skin could be so smooth—and so soft. Eva’s skin smelled of soap and Nivea.
  
  Dawn Promislow
  
  Emerging Voice 2009
- Saturday
  
  Weekends without her son are lonely ones, and Linea fills them up with her have-to list. Today is one of those days, and she finds herself heading downtown to visit a co-worker who’s recently had her second child, a girl. Linea goes early, to avoid the inevitable jostling on the Dundas streetcar.
  
  Allyson Blood
  
  Emerging Voice 2009
- Emily Breakfast
  
  Cranston woke into a bougainvillea-petalled morning, a rosy-fingered dawn of a morning. Soft, pinkish sunlight was streaming its way down from the bedroom skylight, his husband Sir Maracle was sprawled and snoring gently beside him, and Rose of Sharon was crouched on his chest, eyes closed in bliss, the low, vibrating hum of her purring making sleepy syncopation with Sir Maracle’s snores.
  
  Nalo Hopkinson
  
  Writer/Mentor 2009
- The New Canadians
  
  Rafiq Latif, handcuffed and his eyes glistening with tears, stood at the front door of his parents’ townhouse with Police Sergeant Robert Jennings. He turned to his mother, Ruksana, and muttered in muted anger, “Ammi, I did nothing wrong.”
  
  Mayank Bhatt
  
  Emerging Voice 2009
- Going Home
  
  “We’re going back to Barbados,” my mother announces. She says this as she stands in her kitchen, wearing beige capris, black t-shirt and slippers. She is suburbia incarnate. She says it surrounded by dishes my dad has dirtied but refused to wash.
  
  Kearie Daniel
  
  Emerging Voice 2009
- Dear Monsters, Be Patient
  
  The news of your birth disturbed and excited the city. For weeks afterward, the grainy surveillance featured on local and national news broadcasts. A still from the footage appeared on the front page of The Globe and Mail and on posters displayed in post offices, subway stations and grocery stores.
  
  Kyle Greenwood
  
  Emerging Voice 2009
- underwater city
  
  It’s spring. The sparrow dies instantly. Quick / bang, the streetcar suspended. Small black / body. You can still see white, speckled, small / grains of rice across the back, twittering youth...
  
  Sandy Pool
  
  Emerging Voice 2009
- Death at Number Sixty-Nine
  
  On a Saturday morning Mulla Jamaluddin was explaining a dakhila, an example, to his young pupils in a classroom in the grand new Salam-e-din Mosque in Toronto’s Rosecliffe Park neighbourhood.
  
  M.G. Vassanji
  
  Writer/Mentor 2009
- The House on St. Clarens
  
  Daddy tears at the Styrofoam cup, making snowflakes. I stare out the window at the real snow, longing for the bite against my cheeks. “How have you been sleeping?” he asks.
  
  Leslie Shimotakahara
  
  Emerging Voice 2009
- Gaugin’s Chair
  
  After I spent the summer working at a bookstore on Queen Street, my return to York University, for my third year, filled me with dismay. The university’s hideous grey buildings were scattered about a windswept landscape and reminded me of large boulders that a glacier had abandoned as it drew back.
  
  Shyam Selvadurai
  
  Writer/Mentor 2005, 2009
Excerpts from TOK: Writing the New City - Book 4
- No Longer On The Menu
  
  I was surprised but not shocked when my Aunt Milda began to see her dead son up on the telephone pole outside her window in the mornings. At her age, anything was possible. I had to do something, and not just for her sake. As her tenant, I had everything to lose if she was carted off to a seniors’ residence.
  
  Antanas Sileika
  
  Writer/Mentor 2008
- Ming Mei's Year
  
  At the beginning of spring, our family visits the cemetery. “Qing Ming is the time when Chinese families pay their respects to the ancestors in the spirit world,” Mama explains.
  
  Sandra Tam
  
  Emerging Voice 2008
- Commissioners Avenue, Analysis Is the Poorer Half of Unknowing
  
  And he, Larry, could see for a moment Molly’s Diner where he’d eaten the last time they’d turned him out of 54 Division...
  
  Ken Babstock
  
  Writer/Mentor 2008
- Cough and Brume
  
  My son is late. A few nurses have passed by my room since he called this morning, and a little while ago a shady white apron holding a folder and a pen stood still as I opened my eyes: another one of those modern healers, levitating at the edge of my sheet, checking off boxes on a piece of paper, assessing charts and tonsils before sending me back home.
  
  Rawi Hage
  
  Commissioned Writer 2008
- Chinatown East
  
  Keep holding me like this / and help me untie my birth language / my first language / steeped in bruises, knotted up in a child’s still body...
  
  Lu Lam
  
  Emerging Voice 2008
- A Pair of Parades
  
  When I phone my mother, Blanche Ruth Jamieson Moses, born in 1924, to wish her a happy birthday, she challenges me.
  
  Daniel David Moses
  
  Writer/Mentor 2008
- Chill, Hush
  
  Maybe the one thing people should know about me is that I hate my house.
  
  Jen Sookfong Lee
  
  Commissioned Writer 2008
- Family Parade
  
  The household is in a state of chaos. My mother rushes around the kitchen grabbing tin foil, plastic wrap and lunch bags for the aloo-chutney sandwiches spread in rows on the kitchen table.
  
  Gul Joya Jafri
  
  Emerging Voice 2008
- Clinton Street Poem
  
  Dear God, / could you move the sun? ...
  
  Moez Surani
  
  Emerging Voice 2008
- Transi(en)t Love
  
  another night on the 504 / while away the time watching / the sidewalk crawl beside me...
  
  Tanya Bryan
  
  Emerging Voice 2008
- Church and Gerrard
  
  There is a hum. Surrounding me Toronto respires. It gapes. Gap toothed to the world. I imagine a yawning crater sucking anything that isn’t nailed down into itself. Feeding. Feeding off the teaming life scurrying at its feet. Feeding off me.
  
  Maria Corbett
  
  Emerging Voice 2008
- Canadian Birds
  
  Bird shit falls on my face and I want to cry, because before this I have always liked pigeons. They look really cute in pictures and on TV, but I guess photographers and moviemakers don’t like capturing them scrounging and shitting.
  
  Yiwei Hu
  
  Emerging Voice 2008
- Return to Sender
  
  Was she thinking: grief / is a letter you mail to yourself // once the turnstile’s been turned / at the subway station // x number of times...
  
  Naya Valdellon
  
  Emerging Voice 2008
- The Iron Curtain
  
  “Neil, what you studying in school, boy? Interracial marriages?” my mom asked. “International relations,” I said. Suddenly I was slurping down the rest of my coffee in a rush to get out.
  
  Sabrina Ramnanan
  
  Emerging Voice 2008
- Safari
  
  Sultan Uncle placed several glossy brochures in front of Arif and Meena. “I recommend this one.” He tapped the brochure for the Tree Tops Lodge & Resort. “Top class luxury. It will be the ultimate safari. Of course you can also try the Serena. Can’t go wrong there either. After all the Imam owns that one.”
  
  Anar Ali
  
  Writer/Mentor 2008
- Birthday Blues
  
  I woke up on the morning of my twelfth birthday and immediately wished I hadn’t. It was almost ten and the house had that deathly Sunday stillness. I went to the washroom, peed, wiped the seat clean of the yellow drops and flushed the toilet—all as mum had trained me to do.
  
  Pratap Reddy
  
  Emerging Voice 2008
- t(her)e
  
  the smell of garbage is the air I breathe / a man’s shadow haunts the place I call home...
  
  Shauntay Grant
  
  Commissioned Writer 2008
Excerpts from TOK: Writing the New Toronto - Book 3
- Mo
  
  Mo cannot take Fridays off. As a result he finds himself praying in the eastbound streetcar on his way to work. He assumes the appropriate position—as if holding the Qu’ran in hand—and enters a meditative state of worship, mumbling to himself at points where he usually sings when in the privacy of his own room.
  
  Wasela Hiyate
  
  Emerging Voice 2007
- Rock Dove
  
  “Miss?” His hand closes on my forearm. “You got time to help an old man?” It takes me a second to see it—his eyes are useless. “Miss?” How can he tell I’m not a missus, a ma’am? Can they smell that deep?
  
  Alissa York
  
  Mentor/Writer 2007
- To Toronto
  
  I must love you quietly, embarrassed / by your unwieldy desolate sprawl, your cold heart / and shameless lack of fashion sense ...
  
  Samantha Bernstein
  
  Emerging Voice 2007
- The Only Detail That Matters
  
  In our fifth roadside motel room Alice is standing in front of the mirror examining her face carefully. She is wearing nothing more than a pair of white knee socks with a tiny lavender bow stitched just above the back of each slender cotton calf.
  
  Stacey May Fowles
  
  Emerging Voice 2007
- Sides
  
  She was very pretty, the girl. Pity how thin her lips were. That was Tara’s first impression. The door to the basement opened and for a moment, the dull racket of the party yawned alive.
  
  Aisha Sasha John
  
  Emerging Voice 2007
- Diaspora
  
  I could lose you, but I haven’t so far. / I might amuse you, but I daren’t, so far...
  
  Molly Peacock
  
  Writer/Mentor 2007
- Atlas, Behind the Theatre: Dumpster, Hummingbird Centre
  
  Atlas sits on the loading dock / filled with tatters, stocky, broken, / open topped, the trash within / all that’s known of business past...
  
  James Harbeck
  
  Emerging Voice 2007
- If You Only Knew
  
  Tony Wong smiled back at the waitress in the doughnut shop, took one final drag of his cigarette, then mashed the butt into the ash tray. He picked up his mug of coffee and gulped down the last mouthful before nodding goodbye to the still smiling waitress.
  
  Judy Fong Bates
  
  Writer/Mentor 2007
- The Tangerine Conundrum
  
  It was when JD suffered a second stroke that matters came to a head in the Meerchand household. There was no way Birla could continue nursing him around the clock when she was getting frail herself. He would have to go into a nursing home.
  
  Shila Desai
  
  Emerging Voice 2007
- The Beaverbrae: (refugee ship sailing from Germany to Canada after World War Two)
  
  Orphaned, around the world you sail / your ship of hope, a blackened scow / men muttering in darkness, babies wail...
  
  Barbara Hunt
  
  Emerging Voice 2007
- Armadillo
  
  Connie cries for hours, the tears welling up. She’s an endless fountain and the words that I offer are not the least bit effective in making her stop. I feel like I am really not here while she is doing this: breaking up and down.
  
  Clara Ho
  
  Emerging Voice 2007
- MS-13 in My Classroom
  
  Blue pants, white stripes, / trace portable tattoos / into the fertile land of a teacher’s psyche...
  
  Monica Rosas
  
  Emerging Writer 2007
- Scented Worlds
  
  Sharmila sat still in a corner seat on the subway. She was on her way home from downtown. The officials in their shining towers had summoned her for a hearing after she had missed two citizenship tests in a row. She had expected to find herself before a judge.
  
  Sayeeda Jaigirdar
  
  Emerging Voice 2007
- Zoe’s Dance
  
  Zoe had learned long ago that it was unwise to voice her thoughts about weddings. After all, who would listen to a woman who never dreamed of being the bride? As a girl, she often played wedding with the neighbourhood children. The others always fought for the same roles—bride, parents of the bride, flower girl or organist. Zoe only ever wanted to be the priest.
  
  Elpida Morfetas
  
  Emerging Voice 2007
- On a Day in May Encounters
  
  My friend, my friend, I cannot stop the rain. I cannot catch your grey clouds in the cup of my palm and prevent the murky drops from seeping through the ridges of my hand. I cannot turn back time to foreshadow what has happened.
  
  Loreli Buenaventura
  
  Emerging Voice 2007
- Pain Management
  
  Dennis Hanley had used up three of his four weeks at the institute, a small salmon-coloured building on University Avenue’s hospital row. His Worker’s Comp had paid for the first two weeks, and his parents were paying for the other two.
  
  Michael Redhill
  
  Writer/Mentor 2007
Excerpts from TOK: Writing the New Toronto - Book 2
- The Conditions Necessary for Revolution
  
  Ella can’t be bought with Cracker Jacks and Coke. Itching in her woollen tights and longing to peel them off, unbuckle her Lady Oxfords and throw the whole lot of Sunday clothes down down down on the conductor’s head, she refuses to touch Mother’s peace offerings.
  
  Lawrence Hill
  
  Writer/Mentor 2006
- Doba
  
  “Red dilled tomatoes for breakfast?” My grandfather’s head hovered over the opening of a large glass pickling jar as he inhaled his favourite Russian delicacy. Dilled green tomatoes were normal, but red seemed to me to be eccentric.
  
  Dolly Reisman
  
  Emerging Voice 2006
- Recipes for Dirty Laundry
  
  Rosa knows Teresa is the pretty one: she has more problems. Today it’s the bath. Water running, Rosa knows Teresa will be pouring in some of the red bubble bath that smells like raspberries her sister always finds enough money for when it’s on sale.
  
  Priscila Uppal
  
  Writer/Mentor 2006
- Saint Candice
  
  Huff, huff, huff, huff. Candice ran as fast as she could toward a TTC bus approaching a shelter in the distance. She ran past Chanaman Roti Stand, the Rastas pausing their meal of corn bread and pepper sauce to watch her whiz by.
  
  Catherine Hernandez
  
  Emerging Voice 2006
- Amal Sings at the Christmas Pageant
  
  Amal stands in front of the gymnasium, / she doesn’t fidget, she stands straight. // Jeremy hisses, Why does your cousin always have to sing?...
  
  Nermeen Mouftah
  
  Emerging Voice 2006
- Total Immersion
  
  The guy in the tight, black Speedo / (shine over the crotch) / is ready to dive; // another Russian Jew, / new to the community pool, / unsure of how to say “Make way!,” / makes his announcement nonetheless / cannonball style...
  
  Marlene Goldman
  
  Emerging Voice 2006
- The Man Who Built Walls and Tore Them Down
  
  It was the first time I’d sat down with Frank since moving out five years earlier. More might have passed were it not for Yuri killing himself. I recall thinking spring was the season I would’ve chosen, too.
  
  Kerri Sakamoto
  
  Writer/Mentor 2006
- Packaging Parathas
  
  Every morning, before school, Riyaz spent at least an hour packaging parathas. She had learned the process quickly, not long after moving to Toronto to live with her mother’s eldest sister.
  
  Tasleem Thawar
  
  Emerging Voice 2006
- Correspondence
  
  Dear friend, I am indeed thrilled I’ve finally found a friend I can write to, if not talk to. I hope that you don’t mind if I number my letters to keep track of them easily. I trust this letter will find you well. I’m OK too. People say that life isn’t perfect, but I have to admit that I’m really fine
  
  Fereshteh Molavi
  
  Emerging Voice 2006
- Plan to Make Do
  
  —“Ow...yo, that hurt.” A young woman jams her elbow into my chest shoving me out of her space. Her distracted exit from a department store propels her small pod of friends askew.
  
  Michele Chai
  
  Emerging Voice 2006
- British Boy/Canadian Boy
  
  A blown kiss floats above the ocean, lingers / dreamt, a thumbprint stamped / from nectarines with fuzz of peach and stubble of / face, lobe of ear, grazed, / bitten gently...
  
  Evan Placey
  
  Emerging Voice 2006
- january — ward’s island beach
  
  yes, this places still exists in winter, / although reduced ferry service and / a wind that rattles the bones / of the skeletal trees lining the beach / certainly make it less accessible...
  
  Ian Malczewski
  
  Emerging Voice 2006
- Amah
  
  I found her in literature only once, hiding in Salman Rushdie’s short-story The Courter. London, 1962, an Indian nanny walking down a street in Kensington with the edge of her “red-hemmed white sari” in hand.
  
  Devyani Saltzman
  
  Commissioned Writer 2006
- Potatoes Cause Brain Tumours (and Other Things His Mother Told Him)
  
  The father, his wife and two children are standing in the basement when the bird flies in. It must have come in through the chimney.
  
  Natasha Gill
  
  Emerging Writer 2006
- Blood Rivers
  
  There was no need to open my eyes to tell the difference; all I needed to do was breathe. One slow inhalation of air held in my body as long as possible.
  
  Gein Wong
  
  Emerging Voice 2006
- Caribana
  
  In the summer of 1977, almost a year after Elvis’s death, I met my father for the first time. While many were still mourning the passing of “the King,” in Toronto, we were preparing for a party that promised to be hotter than the record temperatures that divided the city into those who loved the heat and those who didn’t.
  
  Denise Barnard
  
  Emerging Voice 2006
- The Call of the Mountain
  
  Every time Billy Bilkim Costanza entered the antique shop where I worked, he would find some excuse to say, “The mountain still calling me, boy. The voice in my ears might change but the message always remains the same. Always the same.”
  
  Rabindranath Maharaj
  
  Writer/Mentor 2006
Excerpts from TOK: Writing the New Toronto - Book 1
- The Russian Riviera
  
  “Some businessmen” was the way Skinny Zyama had described the two gangsters from New Jersey. —You want me there for a meeting with businessmen? Kostya had asked.
  
  David Bezmozgis
  
  Writer/Mentor 2005
- Waiting
  
  Time is the roman numbered clock at Union Station. The one that I ask you to meet me at the first time / —the one you can’t picture in your mind but find anyway...
  
  teenah edan
  
  Emerging Voice 2005
- Fake Za’atar
  
  In a city where the Za’atar is fake, / We are a genuine family / But not complete...
  
  Gili Haimovich
  
  Emerging Voice 2005
- Lollipop
  
  Miss Katie and the vacuum cleaner are engaged in their usual struggle. They are evenly matched in size for Katie is small for her age and the vacuum cleaner is a huge old monster, heavy and own-way.
  
  Olive Senior
  
  Writer/Mentor 2005
- Lard and Oysters
  
  They see Emma, their mother, every weekend. They play tennis for an hour at the Mayfair Club on Chesswood Street—an hour that is increasingly an indirect and merciless measure of their age—and then they see Emma.
  
  Robert Carr
  
  Emerging Voice 2005
- The Fast Lane
  
  Sharda takes her time entering the water. She sets her modestly exposed brown bottom on the cold white tiles lining the edge of the indoor pool. Blinding shafts of light bear down through tall windows.
  
  Sheyfali Saujani
  
  Emerging Voice 2005
- Remembering Max
  
  He was washing the windows when I came in: a brown stick with big eyes and a ’fro on a ladder, wiping the glass with one hand and continually hiking his pants up with the other.
  
  Guillermo Verdecchia
  
  Writer/Mentor 2005
- union
  
  for eight months, i shifted / swayed in weekly motion / left union station expectant & wondrous...
  
  Laila Haidarali
  
  Emerging Voice 2005
- Globetrotter
  
  toronto is / amsterdam / adrift at sea...
  
  Amatoritsero Ede
  
  Emerging Voice 2005
- Home aka Snap Shots
  
  She doesn’t remember the exact date, only that it was a weeknight, early spring, 1983; it was dark outside. She closed the door and locked it.
  
  Saghi Ghahraman
  
  Writer/Mentor 2005
- Vanishing Father
  
  When Bing Hum got home late that evening from Harris, Smythe & Hum LLP, he found his fifteen-year-old daughter watching a movie-of-the-week that starred Lucy Liu in yet another of her “Asian slut” roles.
  
  Edward Lee
  
  Emerging Voice 2005
- Nylon-Encased Flesh
  
  I wake up, body splayed across the mattress in a starburst. Sunlight. Then rain. Then resurrected sunlight. The men on a neighbouring roof are hammering sadistically out of time.
  
  Christine Estima
  
  Emerging Voice 2005
- When We first Arrived in Toronto
  
  parts of Italy were intact, / like ways of looking at the snow. / it was in the eyes, the Tuscan light, / the way it made the snow explode...
  
  Pier Giorgio Di Cicco
  
  Writer/Mentor 2005
- First Dance
  
  When I found out that Julia Orpana was organizing our school dance, I knew I had to be there. I asked my friend John Kelly if he’d go with me.
  
  Joseph Kertes
  
  Writer/Mentor 2005
- Plotting Home
  
  Despina woke up and poured herself a cup of coffee so weak it looked like tea. Incapable of doing anything leisurely, she guzzled it back and looked over her shoulder.
  
  Eleni Karkas
  
  Emerging Voice 2005
- A Cardboard Box
  
  Sometimes, especially after a harsh, long Canadian winter, it seems as though spring will never come, that it has frozen to death somewhere deep in the ground, buried inside an eternal shroud of glittering ice.
  
  Marina Nemat
  
  Emerging Voice 2005
- Mister Canada
  
  One morning, a year after my family’s arrival in Canada, I stood in our basement, looking at my reflection in the mirror.
  
  Shyam Selvadurai
  
  Writer/Mentor 2005, 2009

Writing Excerpts

Excerpts from TOK: Writing the New Toronto - Book 6

Excerpts from TOK: Writing the New Toronto - Book 5

Excerpts from TOK: Writing the New City - Book 4

Excerpts from TOK: Writing the New Toronto - Book 3

Excerpts from TOK: Writing the New Toronto - Book 2

Excerpts from TOK: Writing the New Toronto - Book 1