articlesetc
Photo by Alexandrea Scotland
"When I first heard that dead Saints smell sweet, I wanted to smell one badly. I thought of the air in northern Ontario first thing in the morning."
I wrote about daybreak in Northern Ontario for All Lit Up. Link to the full piece here.
This piece previews a photo essay by Alana Paterson in Victory Journal, out soon. I wrote the text to accompany her gorgeous work. Big shouts to the US Women's National Hockey Team for striking and holding strong until they won new and fair work terms.
"The personal risk of the boycott proved real over the past two weeks as USA Hockey frantically worked to sign a fresh-faced team of strikebreakers. USA Hockey Excutive Director Dave Ogrean promised to deliver a team—any old team, it seemed—to the IHFF World Championships. That’s when not only the national team but the entire women’s hockey community delivered a hip-check to injustice: No one would sign up to lace their skates and glide across the picket line. No one would betray their role models for the sake of their own career or pleasure. Failing to recruit top-tier players from NCAA Division I and youth programs—the very programs that stand unfunded compared to boys’ youth programs, which receive more than 3.5 million dollars a year—USA Hockey had no shame moving on to recruit Division III players and at least one post-grad playing in a beer league. Even they didn’t want to play."
I talked to CFRU Radio 93.3 about Shot-Blue, hockey, carpentry, the north, and my hometown, Guelph. Thanks Chelsea!
"She hated the narrow dirt mile between their trailer and town. She wanted to erase it the same way she might spit and rub a number off the back of her hand.
Excerpt of the first couple pages of Shot-Blue featured in BOMB Magazine. Link to it here.
An excerpt of my debut novel Shot-Blue (2017) is in Issue 26 of N+1!
"THE BOTTOM OF PRIOLEAU LAKE buckled and shoaled but the man driving the water taxi wove through the shallows without looking, rolling a cigarette at his waist. He knew where the rocks were. They shot into the open channel past a thousand islands, inlet after inlet, but to Tristan it was all the same — water led to more water, shore to more shore." (Read more...)