Marion Agnew

I've mentioned UK writer Iain Robinson before ( here, in relation to notebooks ). I subscribe to his Substack, "This Party's Over," where he keeps a country diary far more extensive than the few observations I write in the morning. He's an activist and teacher besides being writing, and his posts are always thought provoking. It's interesting to see differences and similarities in nature-minded people writing nonfiction elsewhere in the world. Recently (meaning the past few months), of course, global relationships among countries are shifting. In his Country Diary #51, he laments being able to create big changes. Instead: “Going out into nature and responding to its truth feels like the only thing I can do in this troubled, broken age.” drifts Below is a version of the comment I left. I read this six weeks after he wrote it, right around the turn of the year, and I still feel this way. Sometimes I have to force myself to the page, but I need to write. It's...

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 December.   One. Eat the heart of the lettuce first. My wise sister taught me this when she was here this summer. As a person living alone who loves to cook and eat, she often buys produce that has a shorter shelflife than her ability to eat it. So she has learned to take apart the lettuce head and eat the inner leaves, which are her favourites, first. If she ate her way into the centre, the inner leaves might be past their prime and unpleasant--and meanwhile, she’s spent days eating her less-favourite part before getting to the good stuff. It’s taking me time to think about this practice, but it’s fun.  Sometimes changing perspective is as easy as taking a photo from the upstairs window instead of the "usual" one downstairs  Two. Delay gratification. This thought seems the opposite of the previous one. It’s also something our parents insis...

Consilience, a UK literary journal (but also everywhere because it's online), has a tagline: "exploring the spaces where the sciences and the arts meet."   A frozen river winding through a forest?  It publishes art and poetry in themed issues. If you submit a poem to an issue, you also submit a science statement that explains the science behind your submission. The theme for Issue 23 was Tension , and I have a poem in it! That is correct: in spite of my greater comfort with prose, I wrote and submitted a poem, and it was accepted (after revisions).  You can read "Questions of Cohesion" here.  It's about my husband, me, marriage, holding us together, keeping things out.  Future themes include "infinity," "pollution," and "birds."  It's so interesting to see how people make connections to the themes. Scope out some of the previous issues (all free to read) at the website!.

In October I mentioned that sometimes I don’t have answers for some of the things I think about; I only have questions. It’s a failing of mine, especially when I write essays. (Or so I’m told.) I’m supposed to write an answer. But sometimes really all I have are questions. I feel so seen. In the context of writing an essay, I understand what the person means when I receive this feedback. I need to come to rest at some point late in the essay, even if it’s not a full stop or a final destination. It’s at least a pause, a “so far, here’s what I think“ moment. Basically, it’s an answer to the reader’s question, “So what?“ Not a “lesson” for them to learn. Just a breath. A “Thanks for spending time with me! See you later!“ In life (the part that isn’t writing, or perhaps writing for publication), I may always have questions. And I really want to ask (myself) the right questions. Good questions—useful to me, and therefore perhaps to others, though that’s not required. Meanwhile the writing a...

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 October. 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 an...

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...

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...

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...

I’ve seen several references to the practice of writing “five things” in various places, but I most recently saw it in Medea Lee Patel’s Substack, Dear Somebody. She logs and five things each week! That’s ambitious.   So here are five things I want to remember from January, 2025.   One. Narratives still have the power to settle my brain. I was grateful to re-learn this after several fragmented days early in the month—days that included the mixed gratitude, reverence, and sorrow from the funeral of President Jimmy Carter. A story, a beginning middle end, whether it’s an episode of a cop or lawyer or medical show, a home renovation, a couple looking to Escape to the Country—that cycle brings things to a satisfying conclusion. My brain likes that, especially at 2 a.m.   Two. Speaking of death: from experiencing the death of several friends and acquaintances in the past six months, I’ve gained a new understanding of and appreciation for obituaries. How on eart...

Earlier this year I mentioned my gratitude practice, explained (more or less) how it works (more or less), and shared some of the recent specific things that had appeared on my gratitude list at that time.   Six months later, it’s time for more gratitudes. At present, I’m grateful for many of the big-picture items I mentioned in June, plus these specifics, in no particular order: Enough snow that our well is not frozen and may hold its own when spring arrives Life in the country, where we marvel at small birds at the feeder and big birds in the sky, and we watch deer grow from fawns to adulthood People who drive the speed limit (or slower!) in neighbourhoods when they’re driving on ice, even if they’re driving a ginormous truck and think they don’t have to slow down; I doubt that they’re doing it to keep from frightening walkers but that’s a happy side effect Our local bookstore, Entershine Bookshop, which has become an integral part of the local writing and reading community ...

It's so much fun to share information about the characters in Making Up the Gods that aren't necessarily an integral part of the book.  For example, as the novel begin, Simone bakes, and it's surprising to her that she's enjoyed it so much. She takes advantage of the presence of Chen and Martin to keep baking. And one of the things she makes is scones.  I also make scones, though I have zero nine-year-olds and also zero potential cousins hanging around. I've been using the same recipe for about 45 years, since Fort William Historical Park opened. It's a pretty foolproof recipe, which is why I keep making it, although I did have some performance anxiety around it this year after accidentally substituting baking SODA for POWDER (WHY???? Such a rookie move.). Regardless! This week, a review of Making Up the Gods, as well as a link to the Blueberry Scones recipe I use, appears at Canadian Cookbooks! Here's a link to the review. The recipe is linked in the text ...

As a dual citizen of the US and Canada, with a Canadian mother and an American father, I've crossed that border often.* I've had decades to think about borders. (I even blogged about them for a while.) And boundaries--both the geographical kind and the personal kind. Artsy vacation shot :) . I recently made a cross-border trip, my first extended visit since pandemic lockdowns, and wondered again about the people in an office somewhere drawing lines on a map. I also thought about the ways I expected my life to unfold, and how different my experience has been. Performing onstage has never appealed to me--I managed it as a musician because of all the others up there with me. Safety in numbers and all that. So as I turned from professional and technical writing to creative work, the thought of reading my own work aloud in front of others, and trying to say something coherent in interviews, was daunting. Imagine my surprise to learn that I enjoy talking about my work, both my essay ...

Here are some further adventures in the fun opportunities to talk about a book! Recently, the kind folks at River Street Writing hosted me for the Power Q&A series, featured on their blog.   In the autumn, my book was featured at the local bookstore. A dream come true.  It was so great to have the chance to reflect on the fact that MAKING UP THE GODS is a story infused with grief. I actually thought I was writing about how adults make decisions, but, as Semisonic says, "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." So yes, grief!  I was also fortunate to be part of the "Story Share" series on the Jacqui Just Chatters podcast! She did a cross-promotion with the Bookish Flights podcast , and a total of four people shared their stories about books that have impacted our lives.  I could probably keep the podcast in stories for years, but one book has been on my mind quite a bit as I've shared MAKING UP THE GODS with the world--MRS. MINIVER, by...

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...

 Hi, folks!  November whizzed past in a blur of literary events, and I loved every minute of it. From waking up on my birthday in Wawa, Ontario and being serenaded that evening at Wordstock Sudbury by three former Poets Laureate of Sudbury in the evening, to sitting on a panel with a hugely gifted and influential poet to discuss grief, AND, back home, attending a book club to talk nuts and bolts of character and reality vs. fiction, AND speaking to a ladies' luncheon group, AND reading online for the Northwestern Ontario Writers Workshop, AND a bunch of other events, it's been a wild ride. (from top): Vera Constantineau, Kim Fahner, and Roger Nash after their serenade. My view at Wordstock, Sudbury's Literary Festival, just before my panel, "Good Grief," began. Lots of fun! November also brought  my first new publication in a while , at Five Minutes ( fiveminutelit.com ). The short essay (100 words EXACTLY about a five-minute life episode)  "See/Be Seen"...