Marion Agnew

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.  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 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 bee Wild blueberry ...

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 ...

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.   

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...

Hi, everyone, it's March. And still 2025. I felt the need to point that out because the months take forever and fly by at the same time.  Not a recent photo, but a fair representation of what today looks like A reminder: on Wednesday, March 12, I'm reading in the Brockton Writers Series . If you're in the greater Toronto Area, head to the Glad Day Bookshop, 499 Church Street. If you aren't, you can watch on their YouTube channel, here :  Brockton Writers Series - YouTube    In addition to the other readers, the evening will feature Asifa Sheikh speaking about Playing with Form in Nonfiction, an always-fascinating topic. Although I tend to default to the standard linear narrative, I've braided narratives and am striking out into other ways to spread my wings.  I'm excited to be part of this event. Participating is one way to remind myself that yes, I've written books and I have spoken to people about them and about writing. I've hung out in the company of...

Back in the Days of Yore (pre-lockdowns—actually, more than a decade ago, wow, what even is time) I’d periodically get four-hour coffees with a specific writer-friend who is also a musician.   One of the questions we’d mull over is “What is the writer equivalent of scales?” Another was its related idea, “What is a practice session for writers?”   Obviously, the questions don’t have a 1:1 answer. Musicians perform, and although writers can perform also, it’s rarer. Perhaps. For me, anyway. As a writer of things on paper (vs. writing works for performance), I don’t focus on a performance element of my work, though I’ve grown to enjoy the more performative opportunities for readings and conversations. An accident, but I like it!   But! Back to a scale—a form that musicians can practice to gain muscle memory and general mastery.   For me, the equivalent is a daily writing practice. My practice varies, in terms of form, result, and effectiveness (and even ...

I didn't celebrate the turn from 2024 to 2025 with champagne at midnight (or anything at midnight beyond snoozing). I'm not against traditional celebrations. They can be fun--I've been to several different kinds of parties and observations of the new year.  Yet some rituals of the new year are always available to me, and I find I'm observing and enjoying them. Paperblanks, ordered from my local bookstore,  along with a well-loved Filofax Folio. For example:  I’ve pulled out folders and written 2025 on them, moving the 2024 information to the “tax stuff” spot Making hard choices from among the plethora of opportunities, I’ve added some events to my calendar for January I’m writing in the new nice notebooks  We’re seeing Christmas cards in our mailbox, which is nice—since the postal strike ended, we’ve received mostly junk, and that’s not nearly as fun I’ve watched (several times a brief video (or several) of someone painting with watercolours That last one is less abo...

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 ...

The year is waning, as is the amount of daylight in individual days; both will soon wax again.  Meanwhile, here are some of the sights. Also sites (certainly familiar locations to anyone who follows me on social media). Also sighs, which is what I'd originally typed instead of sights.  The evening sky Because even after twenty years here, ten years in northern Colorado before that, and five years in the mountains of New Mexico before THAT, the first snowstorm--the first REAL one, the first that stays--still daunts me.  But in the space of three or four days, we've now had two. And managed. Here it comes And I continue  my ongoing "wayfinding" efforts . I'm looking for lampposts, bits of joy (also called "glimmers" I think). Recently, I had a great time volunteering with Dementia Cafe (and have the chance to next weekend as well).  Yesterday I saw old bananas in the grocery store and got an urge to make banana bread. Maybe I resemble Simone m ore than I...

Yes, I'm aware that it's already October--we're not even in the FIRST days of autumn anymore. However, the weather is very summer-like (and too dry!), so summer's experiences have been on my mind. Also, September was a full month. Besides extending the summer "I want to be outdoors" feeling as long as possible, I had a couple of events. Early-ish in the month, I shared a book signing with David Giuliano, Marathon-based author of The Undertaking of Billy Buffone (Latitude 46), at Indigo Thunder Bay. It was fun to see friends and spend time in the local branch of the national chain.  I'm on the left Later, I hosted a stop on the Northern Tour for Rod Carley's new novel, Ruff , also from Latitude 46. We had a great chat at the library about all things creativity, Shakespeare, midlife crises, plagues/pandemics, and everything old being new again.  Rod signing copies of Ruff Between and among those events and the regular Activities of Daily Living, I'v...

My sister worked, for a while, as an editor at an engineering firm. Once she went to her boss because there was too much to do and she wasn't sure where even to begin. He told her, "Do something." As in, pick something, anything, and do it.  It sounds really simple, as in TOO simple, but it's turned out to be helpful advice.  Clouds probably don't feel overwhelmed. For one thing, action always helps. Standing frozen with too many competing priorities whirring in your (my) head isn't useful. If nothing else, doing something breaks the power of those non-helpful thoughts. Mine generally include, "Whatever I do will be wrong" or "I'm really going to mess up" or "When will they find out I don't know what I'm doing?" And for another, getting my hands dirty in a project reminds me of that specific project's needs.  As in, "Oh yeah, I remember now--this scene was really difficult and I couldn't figure it out and ...

One of the distinct pleasures of interviews after publishing a book is the chance to chat with someone who's read the book and asks questions about these imaginary friends you're missing.  That's a new roof! Every interview/conversation is different, because people have unique needs for their own media outlet, but some questions overlap. As a result, I'm getting better at describing what my book is about and how it started and why it's stayed with me.  And at last I'm finally developing a better understanding why publishers and others in the book community ask the question, "What would you like readers to take away from this book?" It feels presumptuous to prescribe what a reader might take away from my book. But that's also, in a way, why I work at the book in the first place.  I may begin a writing project because it's interesting to me or pushes me artistically. I may stay with it because I'm trying to figure something out, and I'm n...

Every morning I check in with myself, in writing. As part of that, I list three things for which I'm grateful, with caveats. I can't name coffee, and I can't name my husband generally, though specific incidents for which I'm grateful are fair game occasionally. I'm also thisclose to adding that I can't name sleep, because it's supposed to be about gratitude, not a referendum on how well I slept. Springtime Sun This exercise actually has two parts. First, I notice things I'm grateful for. Then I name them in writing of a morning. The whole thing may sound cheesy, but it's useful. It encourages me to look for positive things as the day goes along and then recall them the next morning. Part of being alive in the world, I think, includes being grateful for Big Things. For living someplace that isn't being bombed. For generally living in a place, time, and context in which I'm not often (deliberately or innocently) misunderstood. For having opport...