Drafts 1 - 11 (not including 10) Between the Covers, CBC Radio
DRAFT #1 It’s interesting right now that I’m writing an essay on motherhood and writing, or more accurately, I’m not writing. I’m thinking about how I’m not writing, and why I’m not writing, and while I’m doing all that not writing I’m imagining smarter, more confident mother/writer superwomen all pattering away at their laptops producing brilliant cogent thoughts while their happy, perfect children chortle and suck and goo somewhere close,– but not too close, by. Listen.
Methuselah, Lemon Hound
“Of course I’m going to climb it,” the woman said, looking at me with that “why state the obvious?” question on her face. “I’m here. I have to do it.” We were in the cooking shelter at Taylor Meadows campground on Garibaldi Mountain, a starting point for several hikes, including the dramatic Black Tusk, which rises above the mountain like the black tower in the Lord of the Rings. We had arrived by hiking three hours up from the road, our packs laden with tents and supplies and at least twenty pounds of food, or so it seemed to me. I was worried that our nineteen-year-old son, who even at that moment looked like he might eat the table, was going to starve. The woman had given us her leftover Kraft dinner, and my husband was cooking chicken he’d insisted on bringing. “It wasn’t that heavy,” he still protests when I complain. “You weren’t carrying it,” I remind him. I had asked the woman about the Tusk because we were still considering our options for the next day, and I was curious besides, having admired it so often from the car on the road from Whistler. Read.
“The Inner Weed,” Daily Dose of Lit, August 9, 2013
“The Goddess of Light & Dark,” Room No. 34-1, Winter, 2011
“Lurching Man,” Geist No. 78/79, Fall, 2010
“Gangly Man,” Geist No. 69, Summer, 2008
“Drafts 1 – 12 (not including 11)," enRoute Magazine, April, 2006
“Ducks,” Geist No. 66, Fall, 2007
“The Plot of a Life,” Geist No. 55, January, 2005
“Pink Bunnies and Other Things,” The Book of George, The BoG Collective, 2004
“Gravity,” Fugue 2000, University of British Columbia, Spring, 2000
Review: Underground and Perfecting, Event 38-2, Fall 2009
“Pools, Currents, Streams,” Event 35-3, Fall 2006
“On Stories & Hangovers,” Event 35-6, Fall 2007
Photo staging by my daughter, Olivia Walker.
Threshold, Eighteen Bridges
My husband is a liar. When I complain about the wrinkles on my neck, he says, "What wrinkles?" Then I laugh because I don't want to press the point. Would it be a good idea to have him examine, truly, the decay that is my neck skin? Think wattle. Think chicken with pin feathers that spring out overnight. Read.
Natty Man, Geist
A man I know slightly rides past our house on his bicycle going uphill. He looks natty in his two-tone jacket and tight black pants. His fifties-style bicycle completes the look, which is self- conscious but well done. Our hill is steep—at the point where gravity and the man’s efforts are equally matched, the front wheel wobbles before surging up again. On another person this moment of hesitation could look like waywardness, but on him, a man who pronounces judgements on things without considering the options, the wobble looks more like a flourish.Read.
Divine Language, Maisonneuve
A few years ago, I went to a retreat centre in British Columbia that a friend had recommended. My friend, a long-lapsed Catholic, assured me that religion wasn’t a prerequisite, so I didn’t worry about my own state of lapsedness and booked a few days there. On arrival, the minister in charge welcomed me. He was soft spoken and asked gentle questions, mostly to do with how long I would stay and how was my journey there, but then he asked me what church I attended. I said, “None,” and thought I saw a small hardness pass behind his eyes. Read.
“Fallen Apples,” The Fiddlehead No. 245, 2010
“Balloons” The Malahat Review, No. 146, 2004
“Alice in the Storm” Prairie Fire, Vol. 22:4, 2002