Writing Exercise

I’m a big believer in projects. A project really is a challenge to yourself, a record of all of your attempts at solving that challenge, and, hopefully, a solution. Here’s a simple project. Write a poem each day for two weeks . . .

A Month in Manitoba


Preface/disclaimer/warning: I was young, eighteen, and generally terrified of life. These are the days that I sketch and shelve in my head, the days I can trace a line around earth and sky, green and blue, the toy farm house at the side the plastic animals . . .

The Secret


Lights fade in, curtains open. Olivia, a six-year-old little girl with pigtails and large brown eyes, is sitting in her counsellor’s room. She is wearing a pink dress and sits cross-legged on a sofa as she anxiously looks at her counsellor. . . .

Sisterly Love


She looked at me with her big eyes that could turn a heart of stone into a ball of mush. “But why won’t they let me play with the rest of them? ” I had no words . . .