A very exciting and hard to believe update, but my short story “A Guided Meditation for the End” has made the gritLIT 2023 Writing Contest Shortlist! Thank you so much gritLIT for this amazing honour!
Sometimes, you have prior knowledge about weird saints (especially canine ones), other times strange saints come to you. Such is the case of Saint Margaret who I learned about from my sister’s teenage not-Catholic co-worker. This one’s for you!
“Witches were never capitalists. We were the thing that stood in the way of capitalism, which is just the engine of the patriarchy, after all. Witches were not all killed by fire. We are the fire,” (Dimaline 133). Lucky St. James is not so lucky. Her beloved Metis mother Arnya died when she was young, she’s …
Sometimes I wish it was enough to just say that I was feeling sad, but there’s always been a taboo against that. I’m not the only person who’s felt obligated to say that they were fine when they were anything but, to stitch a smile on my face and pretend to be happy.
“I don’t want to talk about the rain or the trees or the…guilt I feel every single minute of every single day. And if I write it all down, I want to do it in pencil so I can rub it straight back out again, erasing that whole part of my life so it smudges …
I received this book from Playwrights Canada Press in exchange for an honest review. Reenie wants to dance just like her mother who worked hard to make a spot for herself on the stage and her grandmother who worked behind-the-scenes making costumes. It’s her legacy, and like the other young dancers in her ensemble Reenie feels that …
My parish priest died in February. Leukemia, relatively quickly it seems based on his obituary. He wasn’t my most recent parish priest, but he was the first priest I knew when I first started attending church as a tiny thing that needed to stand on the kneelers in order to properly participate in mass. He …
“People love an idea, even if they don’t know what to do with it. Even if they only know how to do exactly the wrong thing,” (Machado 228). In her memoir, Carmen Maria Machado finds the words, after years and difficulty, to articulate what it was like being in an abusive same-sex relationship. Part fairy-tale, horror …
“I am a delicate mist. No one can look at me or touch me or see me. I do not want to be held, which is fine-no one wants to hold me, and even if they did, it wouldn’t help. I am a murmuration, a lightly undulating spray of particles, moving easily around the earth …
Let’s take our first look into Ophelia’s flowers with rosemary, since it’s the first flower she hands out in Act IV scene v. According to the language of flowers, rosemary (salvia rosamrinus), which is also known as “compass weed, incensier, [and] pilgrim’s flower” (Inkwright 133) has often been associated with remembrance and wisdom (Roux 152). …
Sarah O'Connor 