Marion Agnew

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 For a long time I participated in #SundaySentence on a social media platform where I am no longer active.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"...

Tra-la, it's May!  Tra-la, indeed. We had less snow overall this past winter than last year, but April had plenty of snow/wintry mix, to the point that there's actually more knee-deep snow left out there this year than last. However. Today, it feels more as if Spring is here to stay.    leaf on asphalt; black and white photos are a whole mood, aren't they? So here's what I'm taking into May, 2023.   First, the fruits of my labours. April was full of the last manuscript revisions for my novel, coming in October--quiet time with documents in both electronic and paper forms. And pens. And I finished. Throughout that time, I learned a lot. Between storms, I did a lot of errand-ish things. Things adults do. Taking care of business. It feels good when it's over, even though I complain plenty while I'm doing them .   I have also learned a lot recently from professional organizations, such as The Writer's Union of Canada and their webinars, which they though...

It’s probably a little late to be posting “new year” thoughts, but I was late to church almost every Sunday morning for most of my childhood (NOT MY FAULT) (although something I've had to work on since), and my father liked to sit up front, where everyone could watch us shamefacedly slink in and take seats, so let’s call it tradition. Here are a few things I’m taking into 2023, some of which I learned in 2022, and some of which I re-learned. Words, part 1.  Naming things is important. Having a name for something can make it real in a way it wasn’t before, which can be scary if you’re as into denial as I am. But it’s also a relief. To have a name for something is to put a limit on it, to say “I know you,” even though you can’t predict the future exactly.  And I know all that’s vague, and that’s how it is for now. Just, words are good. Words, part 2.  I’ve put 80-thousand-plus words into a novel that will be published in 2023 by Latitude 46, a publisher in Sudbury. Mak...

Clouds of yesteryear. Y indeed. About a month ago, I had a brief conversation on Twitter about revision. Of all the things I’ve learned about writing, accepting the need to revise has improved my writing the most. But it was hard to actually DO. For one thing, my background in writing and editing professionally meant that my drafts were mechanically just fine. (The sentences made sense. Paragraphs flowed.) So far, so good. But what I was writing felt unsatisfying (and wasn't getting published). So beyond editing, I didn't know what to do.  Learning to revise took practice. As much as I enjoy revising, in the past year or so, I haven’t done much revision. Because (gestures at everything) reasons, and because I’ve been writing first drafts. While daydreaming (succumbing to the allure of thinking about the thing I'm not working on NOW) about how I’d approach revising a finished draft of a short (or maybe long?) piece, I found myself articulating changes through three lense...

Lines of Light on Snow Sublime? Ridiculous? You decide. My plans for 2022 include # keeping frozen diced onions on hand at all times. I’ve enjoyed this hack, which I picked up from an Instagram and YouTube influencer, all year. There’s been much less crying and far less metric tonnage of onions spoiling because I've forgotten I have them. # listing a few fun things to do each month. I did this in December—small holiday/celebratory things I wanted to do—and it was nice to have that list to refer to. Doing difficult errands or tasks was happier when I could look forward to relaxing at home in a room lit by coloured lights and look at our evergreen swag (the getting out of which was two things). # following my own interests for “fun” reading and better focusing my efforts for “professional” reading. I have more to say aboutreading and year-end lists, here . # limiting and focusing my time on social media, both to spend time doing fun things (see above) and to reduce my exposure ...

It's December, which is BOTH just another month AND a month where people do "round-up" or "best of" or "lessons learned" activities.  I also do that, in my small way, BOTH because I'm drawn to nostalgia (remember the electrifying feeling of knowing that COVID vaccination was coming??) AND because I don't like to leave all the yucky accounting-type jobs to the new year. (Though truthfully, I do procrastinate most of them as long as possible.) So here are some things. Mostly random.  A random photo to match these random thoughts. 1. Here's something I need to revise. In July, I said I don't like oat milk. Turns out I do like it well enough when it's packaged for coffee, which is all I really use milk products for these days. So I guess that's a benefit for the planet. Can we ignore the multinational corporation doing the packaging? 2. Here's something I have known before but face again, and frankly, I've never really like...

This time of year encompasses several birthdays, including mine and my book's. Yes, two (!!) years ago, Signature Editions released my essay collection,  Reverberations: A Daughter's Meditations on Alzheimer's .   Recently, the current president of the Northwestern Ontario Writers Workshop (NOWW), a regional writing organization, posted a review on the NOWW blog . Here's a quote: There’s much sadness here, yet we also see humour (the many conflicting ways to make perfect devilled eggs), the defining and deepening of the author’s love for her parents, the realization of her dream to live full-time on the big lake, the kindling of an autumn romance, and the arrival of a certain understanding …    To read the rest, go here. Many thanks to NOWW President Clayton Bye for reading and writing this review--and to NOWW for posting it, and for all the other programming it offers to writers in the region.  

Not to be all "gratitude list" about it, because nothing is more annoying when you're wound up and in a funk at the same time to be told, "make a gratitude list," but. Okay, this is maybe a little gratitude-y.  September has brought, shall we say, challenges, and in learning to meet them, I have been deliberately looking for bright sides.  * The "active words on a page" part of writing my new novel had to take a back seat in September. In the rest of life, we had problems. They needed solutions. We also had situations--things that existed but over which we had no control and thus couldn't solve. Sorting it all out meant fractured sleep and focus and concentration. That meant few words.  Bright side: the novel was still there. Occasionally I'd stop at my open notebook and write down something, and when I went back to look recently, all of the notes made sense. (!!!) Apparently I was continuing to work on my novel all that time. I'm sitting d...

I'm working on a novel. Like, really, for reals.  Know how I know? I'm throwing things away and enjoying that process.   Also: when I sit with fingers on the keyboard, I'm excited and a little nervous. I know what will happen, what actually HAS to happen, but I don't know how it happens until my fingers start moving.  I've been working on this novel for a long time, through many drafts. I've also carried it with me at times when I couldn't work on it because logistics, because energy, because anxiety, because perfectionism, because reasons. It's all very Ecclesiastes: times for this, times for that; fallow and fecund; lean and large. Metaphor-for-less and metaphor-for-more. I'm trying to remember that the fallow times have helped make the fecund times possible, and be grateful for them. Through the years, through the times and family and country and culture I grew up in, I've learned (perhaps too well) to keep pushing myself, to keep trying. To p...

You make cake. Apparently. This is pumpkin spice cake, dusted with cinnamon and powdered sugar. The plate is Spode Christmas Tree,* of which I have plates and bowls and other random bits and bobs--salt and pepper shakers, candy dishes in many odd shapes. Most of them came to me courtesy of my father, who (apparently) enjoyed selecting random pieces and, in my adult years, found Christmas china a safer gift than books, since I often bought my own. I've been trying to cull books, since they seem to accumulate around here, but it's tough going. For one thing, it feels cruel to remove books from our house when I just brought one into the world . And for another, some books leave our house fairly easily and rapidly, which means that many of the ones left are special in some way. I have whole sets that my father gave to me in hardcover over the years. I haven't read James Herriot's veterinary series in decades, but my set (with my father's dated inscriptions) w...

In the Autumn of 2017, I learned that the editors of Compose magazine nominated my essay "Bypass Instructions" for a Pushcart Prize. Such excitement! I really appreciated learning that those editors felt my work stood out in their magazine that year. At some point, I searched online for Pushcart Prizes, looking to see when I might reasonably quit wondering about it. I saw an article by a journal editor that said (a paraphrase), "Being nominated for a Pushcart is nothing to brag about--don't even mention it unless you win one." People in the comments took issue with that approach, and others piled on to support the original poster's online eyeroll. That post confused me--I was partly horrified at my earlier excitement (had I been bragging?) and partly annoyed at this random person I neither know nor cared about raining on my parade. Regardless, I slunk away to delete "Pushcart Nominee" from my online profile. In the autumn of 2018, I saw twe...

A long time ago, in a country that feels increasingly far, far away, I learned something important: Many sentences with a ? at the end are NOT actually questions. (I was probably watching Dr. Phil. Don't @ me.) Here are a couple of sentences that read as questions that aren't actually questions: * How could you do this to me? * What were you thinking? Recently I've (re-)discovered a corollary: Many requests for input/feedback/thoughts are NOT sincere requests. Silly me, I keep forgetting this corollary. So if someone asks what I think, I forget my lines.  Here are some things I'm supposed to say instead of giving my opinion, even in a setting when we are all ostensibly encouraged to give input, even when I'm not taking the space of someone whose voice is traditionally underrepresented, even when I've been asked: * Gosh, I don't know. What do you think? * It's perfect as it is--no changes needed! * Oh, I'm sure you're right! R...

I don't like my pen. It blotches. The ink gets all over my fingers, even after I've given it time to dry. It's a pain in the neck to use. I don't like my pen. I really wanted to like this pen. It came in a cool package with pens of various colours. I like using coloured pens--green, red, or this purple--during the day. I had high hopes for this pen. I wondered if my hopes for this pen were too high. Was I seduced by hype around this pen? I tried to like it, really I did. See? SEE? It blotches. I'm even using a pen-wiper. Yes, using a pen-wiper makes me feel a little like Jo March, but that's not enough to offset the problematic aspects of requiring a separate place to wipe your pen's nib periodically. But I don't have to justify not liking the pen. I don't like it. I don't have to like it. I (gasp) don't even have to use it up . (Those whose parents also never got over their Depression-era childhoods will understand the radical natu...

This Saturday! From noon until 4! I'll be at Chapters in Thunder Bay, along with a bunch of other Thunder Bay/area authors (including Roy Blomstrom , author of SILENCES: A NOVEL OF THE 1918 FINNISH CIVIL WAR) (and also my husband) representing our books through Shuniah House Books . If you're in the area, come in to meet folks, buy books or have them signed, and/or enjoy a beverage in the air-conditioned comfort. The most up-to-date list of other participating authors: Sandi Boucher, Sam Convey, H. Leighton Dickson, Roma Fisher, Makenzi Fisk (publisher of, among other books, Canadian Shorts, which includes a short story of mine) , Deanna Ford, Eva Kakepetum, Rob Kozak, Michelle Krys, Kyle Lees, Terrence McParland, Merk, John Pringle, Shannon Robertson, Evan Sills, and the Friends of the (Thunder Bay) Library. Hope to see you there!

Yesterday was the first Wednesday in a couple of years, I think, in which I didn't post something. I was traveling and enjoying being (mostly) offline. As you know, I've been on a vacation in which I've actually been...vacating. It's been great! I've thoroughly enjoyed visiting my sister, seeing her world (the sun! so many degrees on the thermometer!) and her part of the country, and experiencing a change in routine. But I love living here. So one of the highlights of the whole trip: crossing the border yesterday and hearing the agent say, "Welcome home." And it really is, pale sunlight, muddy driveway, filthy floors, dripping eaves, and everything else that goes with spring in the North (which yeah is south of most of the continent). Of course, all that is easier to greet with open arms since I missed the most recent dump of snow and mega windstorm, which my husband delights in describing in great detail as he pounds on the walls. "Every door...

The theme for March has been "postpone." Because of illness, a friend postponed a get-together. For some mysterious physicians' reasons, a medical appointment has been delayed. Travel issues have caused a family visit to be postponed for months. As a result, my schedule has room to breathe. And therefore, deadline that I had given up on meeting is now not only possible but reasonable. Because of this room, I can not only "send something" just to be sending something, I can send something that's recently revised and re-considered. Perhaps even re-re-re-considered. It's a good goal. So I will take advantage of fun (and appointments) deferred and meet it. On the flip side, I'd planned to make a blueberry cobbler for the visitors. Even though they're not coming, it's still on my list for this evening. Because a cobbler is a sort of pie, and today's pi day, and my cobbler topping is scone dough, and (as we all know) scones are never ...

At this time of year, I have to keep reminding myself that I don't always get to decide when something is done. I may be sick to death of revising, but that doesn't mean the essay is "done." Similarly, I may be sick to death of dressing in ninety-eleven layers and wearing boots, but that doesn't mean winter is "done." On the other hand, *I* can be done with something--like *I* can be "done" revising an essay. For now. *I* could even be "done" with winter. As it happens, I haven't yet scheduled a trip to visit my sister (who, conveniently for my attention span for winter, lives in Tucson), so I'm not quite "done" yet. Later, I can revisit the essay. If it's still as "done" as I can make it, then I can send it out. One reason I haven't yet scheduled my sun-seeking trip is that I want to be sure that the time away is worth the return to a landscape that hasn't actually let go of winter....

Lately, I've been moving several projects forward simultaneously. My days are packed with teeny incremental steps on several fronts. I'm learning several surprising things. Some big. Most small. Like, for example, what I do and don't need to have handy. Decades ago, I bought a Filofax planning system. (Influences: Thirtysomething and Alexandra Stoddard.) Ever since, it's held All The Important Things, as well as Most Things It Came With. A couple of months ago, I decided I should use my Filofax more wisely, or not use it at all. To start, I asked myself some questions. Do I really need to carry the addresses of all of my cousins (especially when we communicate mostly through social media)? How about that fold-out four-colour map of the world, including time zones? Is that a "gotta have at my fingertips!" kind of insert? What about the daily to-do lists from two months ago? The answers: No. No. No. And answering those questions has made me face a ...

My work has found a few new readers in the past six months, and I'm grateful for that. I enjoy sharing my thoughts and hearing others respond. Recently I've switched focus from sending work out. I'm spending more time at the page, scribbling, creating and revising and editing, and finishing commitments to others. It's so easy to focus on the product--the publication. "Where have you been published?" "My work has appeared in x, y, and z." It's how you connect with the outside world. But I'm ready to be back at the page. So I'm telling myself, "Enjoy the process." Recently, my husband and I were driving home from town at the time of the evening when a large, near-full moon was rising. Even though I knew better, I couldn't resist trying to get a picture of it. Here's what I got. Yup, not only TRYING TO TAKE A PHOTO FROM A MOVING CAR, but impeccable timing: behind the road sign. More impeccable timing: be...