Marion Agnew

As I've mentioned previously, I had the great good fortune in January to attend the Ontario Library Association's Superconference this year to sign books in the Ontario Book Publisher Organization's pavilion.  The theme of the conference was GET LOUD, and I can testify that the expo hall was buzzing with excitement. I met retired librarians who attended because they just loved the conference SO MUCH. (One with a Thunder Bay connection, because that's Thunder Bay.) I met people still working on degrees and certifications in book- and library-adjacent topics (publishing, library professions, database work, social work).  The image on the cover of MAKING UP THE GODS, based on an original collage by Erin Stewart. I met people less directly related to the actual physical libraries themselves. Such as representatives of powerhouse university presses located thousands of miles away who attended because Ontario libraries have wide-ranging tastes and are interested in universi...

Just a quick reminder: I'll be at the OLA Superconference on Thursday, tomorrow! I'll sign copies of MAKING UP THE GODS at the Ontario Book Publishers Organization Pavilion at 1 PM.  The conference is in the Metro Toronto Conference Centre. It would be fun to see you there!

Possibly not so much "and more," but definitely books! For a long time I participated in #SundaySentence on a social media platform where I am no longer active.  #SundaySentence was supposed to be one sentence, written by someone else, that you'd read in the previous week and found interesting or arresting or otherwise worth passing along. Sometimes I fudged the dates, but the sentences I posted were all from recent reading. I cross-posted those sentences to Instagram, where I am much more active and enjoy connecting with folks about books and writing. I also compiled them here from time to time.  Recently I recognized that I don't like actually recommending books to people. Too much responsibility. And choosing to post about a book may indicate to someone "she really likes this" as opposed to "she read it and found some elements interesting."  So I began trying to better match books to readers. The results look something like this:   I enjoyed wor...

It's January. In Northwestern Ontario, it's not only the cultural time of new beginnings and slightly more sunshine. It usually marks the time of year when the bay in front of my home freezes completely (although Lake Superior proper hardly ever does).  This year, we're a little behind, weather-wise, but we have--at last!--some snow. Ice trying hard to grow, some snow, and more light! Many thanks to readers everywhere, from Kansas to Ohio to North Carolina, from Arizona to Washington State, and all across Canada, who have been in touch over the autumn to let me know their copies of MAKING UP THE GODS arrived! My debut novel has also made a couple of trips--with readers! One to Cancun and another to Cuba.   Also, I'm so grateful to know that the book has touched readers. Several gave copies to friends and family for the holidays, and they're forwarding comments as people read. It's lovely to know. As life picks up after the winter holiday season, I'll be doin...

MAKING UP THE GODS launched on Sunday! Here's just a little of the gratitude I expressed that day at Thunder Bay's independent bookstore, Entershine Bookshop. I feel more grateful every day for the support and the opportunity to share this story with readers.  Thank you so much for being here with me today.   The view from the audience at Entershine Bookshop To start, I acknowledge as a grateful guest that I live and write on lands of Anishinaabe and Metis peoples, in Robinson-Superior treaty territory, and I am reckoning with my family’s settler roots.   Making Up the Gods is the first novel I’ve finished, but it’s not the first one I started. I worked on three other novels, even starting a new one after I’d tried imagining my way through this book. Making Up the Gods itself has felt like several novels along the way. BUT this, at last, is the story that kept bringing me back to the page for a dozen years, through many versions. In fact, the work continued until ...

Here are my thoughts about some of the books I've read recently. Not homework at all! My Name is Lucy Barton, Elizabeth Strout     “I had not yet learned the depth of disgust city people feel for the truly provincial.”   I read this book a few months back but held off writing about it, hoping I’d eventually know what to say, but I still don’t quite know how I feel.   I don’t mind books in which “not much happens,” which is a criticism I’ve seen of this book. Here’s what “happens”: Lucy Barton lies in a hospital bed. Her mother comes to visit. They talk and remember. The end.   But that summary is, of course, not everything. Lucy and her mother talk about and around and behind their own relationship. Lucy wonders about the world she left behind and second-guesses her choices. She’s attentive to those who are attentive to her. She’s not sure what’s happening at times. It’s a quiet book about people.   Did I like it? It was fine. Would I reread it? I can’t qui...

For several years, I've been posting on social media about books I read. On Twitter, I often share a sentence for #SundaySentence. On Instagram, I share more quotes and a few thoughts.  But social media is ephemeral, and platforms can disappear at a moment's notice, taking my thoughts with it. So I'm posting here periodically, too. The Art of Map Illustration, by James Gulliver Hancock, Hennie Haworth, Stuart Hill, Sarah King The Art of Map Illustration,  James Gulliver Hancock, Hennie Haworth, Stuart Hill, Sarah King “[A] map tells a story—and everyone loves a good story.” This book is accurately subtitled, “A step-by-step artistic exploration of contemporary cartography and mapmaking.” The four artists who wrote the book and whose work is featured have different, yet similar approaches to making maps. The maps they’re making are highly personal perspectives on specific places, sometimes at a specific (long ago) time. The artists use different techniques, both digital and ...

Another dose of COVID vax A drain strainer for the bathtub, shaped like a starfish, that works a treat (strains hair, lets water through). A pair of houseshoes in a larger size (my big toes are ecstatic). Some Penguin Classic clothbound versions of Jane Austen titles (I’m still missing Emma SO FAR), each of which has an updated introduction, and I’m LOVING them. Loving the hardcover clothbound Penguin Classic versions of Jane Austen's novels  A new, perhaps slightly strange, interest in Beowulf translations and a specific re-envisioning that reconsiders love and monsters  A bunch of photos through rainy windows, to say nothing of photos of a squirrel (or several?) at our old bird feeder  A squirrel atop a bird feeder, snacking A writing conference registration, a writing group commitment, and the prospect of being with other writers, maybe even in the flesh. The energy of writing to elected officials even though I know they’re indifferent at best and likely actively worki...

Content warning: The Unravelling is a powerful book. It deals with sexual and physical abuse, incest, and emotional trauma, and may be disturbing to readers. I also mention those subjects in my brief discussion of the book, below, which may also be disturbing.  “Violation is violation is violation.” “What did I want? To tell and be believed; to see remorse and change. Was this realistic?” The Unravelling, by Winnipeg writer Donna Besel, is courageous, insightful, eye-opening, consequential, sobering—this list could continue. Donna writes in stark prose, often poetic, about her family’s experience of reporting the sexual abuse her father perpetrated on her sisters and herself. Her story has so much to offer, not the least of which is the unrelenting presence of abuse in the lives of its victims. Attorneys go home, neighbours exchange gossip then change the subject, family alliances shift and shatter, but always, ALWAYS, the memory of the abuse is there for those who experienced it...

My mother, and hers, enjoyed Mrs. Miniver --the book, rather than the movie (which was also fine). A new furnace, heading to installation in the basement,  has a red-carpet moment. Meanwhile, the old furnace went out the back way. Yes, I feel sorry for the old furnace.   And as a result, Mrs. Miniver became one of my book-companions in early high school.  Mrs. Miniver is an upper-middle-class woman in her thirties in the thirties, who lives in London with her three children and her architect husband. They also own a summer house in Kent. She's an observer of life, rather like myself (and my mother and grandmother). I know I've written before about "eternity framed in domesticity," and how a parent has a different relationship with each child--not more or less loving, just different.  Note that the full text of the book, along with publication notes and commentary, is available here.  It's also a pleasant book to look for if you need a reason to browse used books...