Marion Agnew

This summer, I've had the chance to host two author events, one in August and one in September, at Entershine Bookshop, our local independent bookseller.  In other years, other authors have also had events at a library or at Entershine--I've even hosted one. But this was the first time I haven't been distracted by time pressures on large projects of my own, and it was the first time I've had two close together.  Surprise, hosting has turned out to be very fun! It helps that in this summer's events, the Entershine staff and the visiting authors took care of the publicity (all I had to do was share what they created).  One of my events from this summer This Q/A happened in August Here are a few things I've learned.  Talking with other writers is GREAT. Hosting an event is therefore both fun and challenging. You're actually asking questions on behalf of the audience, which might be mostly readers (not writers interested in esoteric questions about structure, bu...

Hello, it's September. I will miss Wendell Berry (poems at The Poetry Foundation) .   Love me a leaf that's turning It's not autumn yet, but we can see it from here.  In the past six weeks, I have actually landed the plane on one of the projects that made me feel stupid (in four different ways). Luckily, it's a project I have never regretted, not once since I thought of it and dawdled over implementing it and eventually got in gear to get 'er done because of Events .  Could I draw this? Maybe? I love when my family visits up here. It makes the other eleven months of the year, the worrying about water and trees and paths and taxes and hydro lines and invaders (ant and mice), worth it. I wish this year my niece and her friends hadn't coincided with the smoky weather and I'm very grateful for their resilience and good humour. I'm proud that this year my sister and I had art sessions several times, some in town and some just out here, at camp. One day in my ...

Last month I mentioned that I have had a bunch of things to take care of and doing so would require me to learn and make mistakes and generally feel like a fool. Air quality 8 Yup, still happening. And also, summer has arrived (mostly with June 21 on the calendar), and with it, fires. We've had air quality of 11 (giving me a ghoulish giggle in a Spinal Tap "the dial goes all the way to 11" way), which is not optimal.  Worse, we were experiencing a heat dome, with temperatures above 40C (which is a lot in Fahrenheit), with humidity. Homes and other buildings (and most people) here aren't prepared for those temperatures.  Add in the smoke, and we've had some stifling days. The kinds of days when you watch the grass growing and you're antsy to take out the trees (more and different ones!) that are blocking paths, but that type of outdoor work is definitely not advisable.  As I travel to and from town working on those "boy I feel ridiculous" projects, I...

Oh, May. What a month.  This is what luck looks like. Many things happened. Mostly spring-related. In spring, our driveway becomes a viscous (and also vicious but mostly viscous) mixture of mud and snow. To keep the driveway from developing deep ruts (and to ensure that my Corolla can get out safely), I park near the end, where it joins the asphalt street. A neighbour suggested (correctly) that I shouldn't park directly IN the driveway in the (unlikely) event that emergency vehicles need to come in. Fair enough. So I didn't. I found a grassy spot and parked in the grass, under a tall spruce. When my husband and I ran errands one Monday, we noted that the driveway was fairly firm under our boots, and we chatted about the huge woodpecker holes in the trunk of the spruce. I looked up: "Yeah, but it's hanging in there--cones at the top, and the needles are green." He agreed it would probably hang in there until an autumn storm.  You can see where this is going, probab...

As I said earlier this month, spring feels especially reluctant to show up this year .  And yet, when I look, I can see the signs around me! We're feeding birds again (in spite of the mess they make on the deck) because there's nothing more tragic than a wistful junco on the deck in the morning. They're moving through on their way north, and we want to give them the wherewithal to get there.  Speaking of morning, the sun is coming up to the left of the Pass Lake Gap. We're one month into the season, and the sun will continue to move left until the summer solstice. It's so fun to be able to watch it, even though the sunrises still reflect on lake ice instead of a liquid version of Lake Superior. This morning I heard my first white-throated sparrow! It's also "park the car at the end of the driveway" season. Our driveway is unpaved, so lakes appear as the snow melts, and as I have whined before, this year there's PLENTY OF SNOW TO MELT. A cause for c...

I don't really think of the year in terms of quarters, since I am not living squarely in the world of business and revenue targets and all that. So this is really a fancier way of saying, "How can March be over already? And we're in April?" which I have said many many a time before. Part of my feeling that it must still be February or March is the relentless nature of this winter's snowfall. Luckily my husband recently was setting out on a not-really-necessary tidy of the driveway with the snowblower and discovered a malfunction involving spark plugs, which we got fixed. I mean, the fixing was the lucky part--because the temperatures are stubbornly stuck just below freezing and the storms keep swooping across the continent. And now we're prepped. Part of my feeling of "when is it again?" is from being ill. I caught the flu and an infection and had a dental procedure and my body has said, "Just one thing a day." Now that I'm on the mend,...

I’m incredibly proud that Shawn Mooney, of the BookTube channel Shawn Breathes Books, included Making Up the Gods in several categories as he shared his reading highlights for 2025. His Most Unforgettable Main Character was a tie between Simone and Chen. And Shawn’s comments helped me see how their interactions help illuminate their best and worst qualities. Making Up the Gods appears again in the “most touching passage category,” and in Shawn’s best books of the year. What a humbling honour! ( Here's a link to the episode .) It’s so lovely to keep hearing from people who are getting to know Simone. The book world pays a lot of attention to book launches and that early flush of “latest greatest” publicity. But (I’m learning), books are meant to keep living beyond that short timeframe. I’m very grateful to readers who keep discovering and enjoying my books and recommending them to others. Shawn’s an avid reader, and his channel is a wealth of information about title from many eras. ...

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...

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...

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...

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...

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’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...

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...