On the false spring day, I walk home after brunch, shedding my scarf, opening my jacket. On car windshields I notice pages placed under windshield wipers. Pages torn from a book. I try to read as I pass. About the Author. A Japanese surname. Across the street a man is walking with a woman, saying, “That and that and that and that.” I watch them for a while, and their strange conversation makes me forget […]
My oldest friend is visiting home, and we spend the afternoon discovering new pathways in the park, discovering washed-up bones and watching people fish in the river. We follow that river and find a spot to sit, and we sit talking for a very long time, as we tend to do. People walk past us with hiking poles, with dogs. Out of the corner of my eye I track the sun sinking behind the trees.
(I live) by the river. Read More »
1) A long morning walk with my dog, remembering what a cool breeze feels like. 2) Reading the paper at my parents’ kitchen table. Opening my laptop to write. 3) The familiar sounds of my childhood home – the fridge humming, the kitchen floor creaking, an upstairs door closing as a wind blows through. 4) Standing at the back door looking at the grey clouds, smelling the air for rain. 5) Returning to my work, finally
More than a week later and I’m still at odds with my city. I venture out of my bubble and quickly return, soothing my jangled old-lady nerves in the ravines and parks and brick homes of my neighbourhood, my strangely sleepy neighbourhood that feels like a held breath. I’ve also been reading, photographing, writing these days. Though I’m only three short stories into my mentorship, everything already feels possible with my work. And I’m realizing
Walking home along the frozen river. I had thought I would be cold in my skirt, thick tights and legwarmers but I was fine. Snow was falling down lazily and sticking to my wool coat, my eyelashes and the tips of my hair. Someone was cross-country skiing on the river. I kept pace with her and watched her, noticing her movements. My mother used to cross-country ski in Finland. I thought I would like to try
Today I went to the library to write, a new library, which I like much better than my local one. This new one has many staircases and little nooks with desks and comfortable chairs, and windows with trees and light on the other side, and a fireplace. And it was quiet. I wrote so well. I’m working on a story that has a teenage boy as the protagonist and I love him so much, I
we the animals of prey Read More »
White wine on a sun-setting balcony as the humidity fades. They talk about Europe, about where they’re going and where they’ve been. I don’t say much. Instead, I slurp my wine and daydream about Germany, though my time there was too short and the things seen were too few. I daydream about Finland and Estonia and Slovenia and I daydream about Europe in general. The buildings, the people, the languages, the food. I go home
nine hours of sunlight Read More »
After an hour and a half of reading my novel draft, making notes, and doing research, my eyes look like that. I take breaks to look out of the window of the coffee place, noticing how many people seem to mutter to themselves on their way to the subway. I try not to audibly exclaim over how good my chai latte is. Sometimes I feel weird about things like writing “chai latte” on my blog,
If I can’t sleep, one thing I like to do is to look at webcams of cities where it has just turned morning. Sometimes nobody is out of bed and sometimes people are already having long chats outside in the dark. Sometimes the spaces look so eerie without people. I always feel like I should preface this by saying “I’m not some weirdo,” but can it be weird to watch the world wake up in
good morning other world Read More »
I finished this book on the way back from Montreal. It was the first time I’d ever read it (I know, I know). It was found in a laundromat by a family friend and given to my mother. Look at the gorgeous cover! Old book design is unmatched, in my opinion. Old books are great, especially when they’ve been used by a student in a mixture of relevant class notes and future invention ideas. I
in praise of vintage books Read More »
