Marion Agnew

Last month, Making Up the Gods and I received an Arts and Heritage Award from the City of Thunder Bay. You can read more about it here.   A frozen river? Nah, just light snow on a rock surface between moss clumps. The awardees in the two categories ahead of me chose not to make comments, so when my time came, I opted to follow their "less is more" approach and start near the end of what I thought I might say. (Though of course I didn't give up the chance for a microphone, when invited.) But I've been thinking since of ways I wish I'd spoken more into that evening as part of an ongoing conversation about art. So anyway, here's a mildly revised version of what I might have said a month ago. Thank you so much, I’m surprised and grateful. We all know how funders and government people talk about arts and artists, right? “The arts contributes X million to the economy. Our ticket sales are up by blah blah percent. Eleventy thousand people participated in the arts in ...

For  several months, I've been keeping track of five things  I'd like to remember from that month. Here's what came up in August. The award was created especially for the 2025 ceremony by artists Callen Retter and Robin Gathercole, drawing inspiration from Thunder Bay’s unique cultural and natural landscape, blending contemporary style with a strong sense of place. The layers are amazing.  One. It takes a village. Not very original, I know. Earlier this year, a local writing buddy nominated me for an award, based on MAKING UP THE GODS. The award wasn’t even on my radar, and her gesture was so kind. In those occasional 3 AMs when sleep is elusive and your writing projects all seem stupid, I remembered the kind act of this nomination.   Two. I can do my part. The awards program let me know how to proceed if I wanted to. And I decided I wanted to. Sometimes my mother was right when she’d say, “you have to put yourself out there.” There’s room between being passive and...

People enjoy feeling wistful—at least that’s what I’ve come to think. Especially in the autumn. Yes it’s beautiful, but rhapsodizing about “the red maples, the yellow birches, all against the evergreen backdrop!” feels to me to be more about grasping the last of summer than a way to welcome a new season. messing about in a rowboat Admittedly, autumn as a season on the calendar stretches far longer than the leaves stay on the trees, and it is difficult to find beauty of the traditional “eye catching flame in the trees” sort come late October early November. In my ongoing series of thoughts about obituaries and saying goodbye and wrapping up a person‘s life, I’m also thinking just in general about endings and beginnings and changing. Possibly it’s a way to deal with things (waves hands at “the world today"), but possibly it’s because I’m approaching a birthday ending in five. This birthday requires me to sign up for things—or not. To make choices that will affect my long-term future...

For several months, I've been keeping track of five things I'd like to remember from that month. Here's what came up in September. One. This year, I’m scratching that September “back to school“ itch by signing up for a couple of classes: weight training and drawing with coloured pencils. So far, they’re amazing. I've enjoyed the chance to review the anatomy of abdominal muscles. And I've made two colour wheels!! For example.  Two. All the “at the end of the summer I’ll handle x” things were staring me in the face but I got a reprieve when the weather finally turned warmer (August was chilly and damp). And of course I went back to “do this summer” to-dos (paint, tidying) along with going out in the boat. It was fabulous to have that second chance at summer. Three. I’m in several different types of book clubs at the moment. One is a club where writers read and discuss writing advice books. That’s fun! I’m also in a long-standing book club that tackles difficult boo...

We had an awfully weird summer, weather-wise, and I'm posting this a few weeks later than I meant to. I could blame the strange weather, or a visiting sister whose weeks extended through Labour Day week. Not that anything was her fault--I'm a (mostly) responsible (mostly) adult.  Truthfully, I've been juggling projects while keeping an eye on the weather. I did get started on ONE painting project on a sunny day this week, but the other may need to wait another year. And do we, or do we not, replace our gas grill's propane tank? It ran out last week--realistically, how many more times will we grill outdoors before the autumn seriously arrives? (None, unless we get a new propane tank!)   However. I’ve been thinking about many things recently, writing- and life-wise. August and early September brought many out-of-the-ordinary experiences. Traveling, for one. Goofing off, for another.  Sometimes a long, slow journey is a beautiful thing. As a result of a family wedding anni...

For  several months, I've been keeping track of five things  I'd like to remember from that month. Here's what came up in August.  One. I haven’t always enjoyed dental visits—often I need more work done, no matter how diligently I brush and floss, regardless of regular cleanings, thanks to insurance—but I do love the feeling of having freshly-cleaned teeth. It’s nice, like when the sweater stack is aligned. new perspective on beloved country --from the boat Two.   I may have expressed surprise in a previous month at enjoying legumes and oat-based cereals, while expressing gratitude that they have helped lower my cholesterol levels. However, there’s another reason that enjoy experimenting with legumes: it’s the experimentation part. I’m using them in cold salads this summer with fresh vegetables, different vinegars, and different spice blends. I anticipate combining them with roasted vegetables in various ways, autumn. It’s just unexpected fun. late asters (?), with...

I had a bit of a reading slump in late June and early July. Innumerable stories come from these few keys. Amazing. Lately, I’ve encountered too many books featuring characters who are extremely unpleasant. They go through the book pretending to be funny or an undiscovered and overlooked genius, but they’re mostly just blaming their unhappiness on everyone else, specific family members, or the “crappy” place they live. I don’t mind an unlikable character! But these characters go beyond the unlikable people I have met (and have been). Sometimes the characters experience an underwhelming and unbelievable change of heart in the last twenty pages. Sometimes they don't even do that. Anyway, I finished three and didn’t finish one. I still dislike the idea of not finishing a book I start (tenacity! persistence! always something to learn!), but in this case I have no actual regrets. Life’s pretty short, as Ferris Buehler would remind us. It’s possible I’m not their ideal audience. Humour ca...

For several months, I've been keeping track of five things I'd like to remember from that month. Here's what came up in July.  One. Ginger ale actually tastes kind of … peppy. Peppery. Almost spicy. In fact … Gingery? I hadn’t noticed before, in all these years. I love it. Two. I like being able to learn new things (that are NOT like insurance, estate planning, getting bids for something etc.) at my “advanced” age. See ginger ale tastes gingery, above. Still getting to know smoked paprika, for example. Time, it passes. Make a wish. Three. Same “learning” category: I actually enjoy legumes, oat-based cereals, and getting more exercise, and good news: so does my cholesterol score. Four. From January through April and into May, I dream about the warm days in June (ha! that's a pipe dream, and the reason for the invention of the Spring Sweatshirt), July, and August. Here are the things I always forget: the tenacity of the smells of bug repellant and sunscreen, the fact ...

As I mentioned last month , sometimes it feels difficult to be a person on the internet in an age of war, climate catastrophe, and the erosion of democracy.  I've been working on various concrete projects, the kind with endings, and also the cycle of nurture that life requires. From refilling prescriptions and attending annual appointments to mowing and lopping and chainsawing. (Not enough cleaning, but that's normal for us.) Fortunately, I've also been able to spend time with other writers. Some are managing to keep creating new work; others aren't. Similarly, some of the "regular people" I also see worry more, while others manage those routines and projects as above.  I'm excited to be part of this event! Please come by! Regardless of where my acquaintances, friends, and family fall on the continuum of "can't do a thing" and "doing well, thanks," I'm glad to know. There's something reassuring about being in community. For ...

June included a trip to see family, which doesn't count for these five things. I doubt I forget that visit any time soon--it was lovely to spend time together.  So below is this month's list of five things from the month that are memorable to me. (This practice, which I started only in January, has been very interesting. I make notes all month and sometimes I return to the document and think, "that was only last week?" But maybe that's just how all of 2025 is gonna be.) One. White wine vinegar. It’s perfect for dressing greens in the summer. Balsamic is great too but sometimes you need a lighter option. I'm not sure what finally made me choose to buy some white wine vinegar, but I ran across a lentil salad recipe calling for red wine vinegar recently so today I added that to our pantry. Fun times ahead! A sunny morning near the summer solstice   Two. Antihistamines. Excellent additions to springtime. Thanks, science, for medicine!   Three. The quest...

It's a bit of a challenge to be a person online. And in general--in what we call "in real life"--too. Or so it feels these days, as the world becomes more violent.  Or perhaps I mean this: as the world's violence touches me more directly. That distinction, as well as the fact that the world's violence feels ever closer, gives me an opportunity to reflect and learn. Which I hope to continue to do--and here I would say "for the foreseeable future," except that the definition of "foreseeable future" has also changed.  Although I've foreseen many elements of today's present, back when those elements were what I thought were only dire distant future possibilities, I didn't actually believe that they'd become the present. Yet here we are. And  I'm happy to still be here, still learning.   

Here are five things I'd like to remember from May. One. A question I’ve asked myself this month: what’s the name of that warbler, that one there, the one that’s black and white? (It’s the Black and White Warbler.) Two. I’m still (as I was in January ) mulling over the impossibility of summing up a person’s life in an obituary or celebrating a person’s whole life in a funeral or memorial service. I’m also struck by how connected people are, how many interests they have, how many professional groups they can be part of (and then groups of retired professionals, like retired teacher organizations), spiritual groups, even. I don’t have a wise generalization to make about cultural changes, age groups, “kids today” or whatever. I’m just impressed, I guess, at all the ways people live their values and contribute to the world. Cloud and Island and Water and Leafing Trees Three. Scope creep/feature creep: maybe this isn’t exactly the same as what I want to remember, but it’s related. In...

The seasons are definitely changing now--May is undisputably spring instead of late winter--and so I've been looking back and looking ahead. It seems to be what I do when the external world changes visibly. What spring looks like, sometimes. It's always disheartening instructive to look at what I was n't able to complete in the previous season. And also, why that might be.  So this all sounds basic, BUT. I’m trying to remember that when I try something and it doesn’t work, I need to 1. Stop trying that and 2. Figure out why, if possible (sometimes there is no because), and 3. Use that info to try something else. I recognize that this is Basic Life Skillz 101. Logic. Problem-solving. Yet sometimes my first instinct is to try harder. Actually, that's my second instinct--my first is to ignore it all. THEN I try harder (muscling through, discipline, don't let myself off the hook, etc.). So this analysis is probably my third step. I guess it's good when I get there...

For a few months, I've been posting about five things I'd like to remember from the month. April's are below, and at the bottom I mention the books I've posted about on social media. What it looks like out there as I write this, more or less. Too bad you can't see the flashes and hear the booms. ONE. I’m reading a collection of essays that I don’t want to end. I knew I’d like it, and I’ll talk about it more on social media and link here. (Just ... not yet. I don't want to rush!) I knew I’d like it based on l the preview I got at the OLA Superconference over a year ago. Then I got busy and didn’t get to it until this year. Nevertheless, It’s been lovely, wending my leisurely way through it. And nice to have the confirmation that I still have an idea of what I’ll enjoy, when so much of what I thought I knew about the world has been in flux. TWO. Boy, I thought March was a month that knew something about dithering. April gives it a run for its money. Weather-wise...

Earlier this year, MAKING UP THE GODS received a lovely review in The Source , a community newspaper available digitally at this link .  February 6, 2025 issue In the February 6, issue (page 7), John Pateman, former head of the Thunder Bay Public Library, says many nice things, mostly about the book's characters.   I very much appreciate any review, of course, and it's especially nice when a reader likes the characters I'm also infatuated with (imaginary though those characters may be). I've also been mulling over John's flattering assertion that I come across as a "seasoned novelist with a strong grip on plot and character."  As someone brought up to turn aside praise, of course my first instinct was to say, "Ha! Fooled someone!"  Although at my age, with my years of experience working with words in many settings, I do acknowledged the "seasoned." There's a joke in there about sporting salt-and-pepper hair now, but I'll spare u...