Marion Agnew

I spent time recently in The Big City, doing a project. I knew it would be demanding and that I'd need something else to do--probably not a writing something, and probably not a reading something, but a something-something. What I came up with was a photography project. Insert standard disclaimer here: I'm not a photographer. I have a little digital camera because my iDevice isn't powerful enough to have a good camera. I love to take pictures of where I live--it's beautiful. I've created calendars and games and puzzles (and business cards) that feature my pics, for Christmas gifts. But I'm by no means a "real" photographer. That said, last December, when my husband and I were navigating his health issues, I found it extremely helpful to have a "photo-a-day" project to think about. So I made up one for this trip, too. I came up with a week's worth of "prompt"-type words (all sort of vaguely related to "autumn") ...

was September, apparently. I spent the month face-down in collections of words-- * writing a novel (nearly done with the Full Draft! can't wait to type "the end" and start revisions), * writing and goofing around with new essays, * revising and submitting short stories and essays, and * reading many works by Robertson Davies and one by Milan Kundera (oof, the contrast). Plus doing other things that have rattled around on various to-do lists. Plus "just being" outdoors, while it's possible to sit on the deck and blink into the sun without wearing tons of layers. Busy, fruitful, exciting rewarding. Lots of nights with the aurora and beautiful moons and brilliant planets (Venus, was that you?). The kingfisher is still around, this morning a flock of Canada geese paraded past, Monday a merganser and loons were hanging around avoiding their close-ups, the heron stopped in (perhaps to say goodbye?) a couple of weeks ago. And yesterday, a deer swam b...

A couple of weeks ago, local artist/director/activist/writer/arts-supporter Michael Sobota reviewed Best Canadian Essays 2014 for the Thunder Bay Chronicle-Journal . Theoretically, the review will appear online, but who has that kind of time? It's impossible to read the whole review in the photo above, so I'll pull out some important points. "I read the entire book in two days."   (Not a trivial undertaking--16 essays on many different topics.) "The collection is full of challenging ideas, reflective memoirs, political and sociological examinations of current subjects and some really, really fine writing." He cites Naomi K. Lewis, and her reflection on anti-science policymaking in Canada, and Sarah De Leeuw's examination of film festivals as particularly relevant and engaging pieces. And yes, he says nice things about my essay, "Words," as well ("beautifully structured, vulnerable and wise"--wise? I wish!). Thanks, Mich...

From the “I don’t review books, but I have some things to say about these books” department. Takeaway: I really liked Clay and At Hawthorn Time . You might, too. Over the past couple of years, I’ve been doing a lot of reading about nature, the environment, and climate change. I’ve been reading mostly nonfiction, because I need to know THINGS, from policy and promises to deadlines and measurements to definitions and examples. But I also read personal essay collections—some focusing on the writer’s relationship to one plot of land or geographic region, others about a specific subject (such as trees or moss). The fact-and-policy nonfiction is interesting but often hopeless; the personal essays are lovely and helpful, even if the writer’s reality doesn’t mirror mine. Recently I’ve been thinking beyond nonfiction to fiction—specifically, about the ways writers of fiction show relationships between their characters and the natural world. From long-ago literature classes, I dimly r...

First, this happened. Always exciting to have something published in a journal as great as Prairie Fire , to have a respected writer like contest judge Wayne Grady say complimentary things about your writing, and to keep such exciting company. As I mentioned previously, I have picked up a houseguest and have been "on vacation," which is a stay-cation next door, at our camp. Except for showers. But before that, I had a bit of a writing retreat. It wasn't long, but it was useful. I actually started when I left here, because I "primed the pump" by reading through notes on the project, then mulled them over on the six-hour drive, and jumped right in when I arrived. Yes, I'd do it again, and for a whole weekend. I've also learned the hard way that beach read-type books aren't necessarily my preferred summer reading. I bought one with beach umbrellas on the cover because I felt as if I should, but I could predict too much of the s...

So, last week month (really? a month?) when I wrote here, I was sharing the contents of my email spam folder because I had some thing to finish up. After taking on a couple more things, I did finish all the things. And we went to Toronto for a cultural writerly thing and took a break. Which was great. And now we're back, so I write today of the "writer's retreat." Many writers have a lot of success getting away from it all for a weekend to do some focused work on one particular project. Some of the people I actually know who like retreats, being the wonderful and generous people they are, are planning a writing retreat in the fall for like-minded people. The "retreat" concept is a little difficult for me. I've been a working writer for decades and freelancing for ahem also decades. Whether I was writing or editing, working for someone else or myself, I've been on a schedule and deadline. No time for inspiration when your piece is due at 4 Ea...

You know how sometimes you LOOOOoooooooove your inbox, and then sometimes you dread clicking "send/receive" because it might only bring more things for you handle and you haven't caught up from all the previous things yet? Those "dread the inbox" times tend also to be times when it's hard to take a break--when I feel too much pressure to watch cat videos take a restorative walk or swill more coffee drink a nutritious and delicious glass of water. But the part of my email system that never fails to amuse me? The junk mail folder. I won't quote the subject lines directly because I already get a lot of mail and I don't want to encourage anyone. But they're fun to look at. Just today, people want to tell me about the destruction of 'Babylon' America (their single quotes, not mine); previously, they offered enlightenment about why the Bible says 'Obama' (again, their quotes) won't finish his term. Obama-- or so he calls him...