I’m a sporadic churchgoer these days. There were times throughout my life when I was a faithful attendee. The Old Man, Ma and I used to go every Sunday. I was baptized and took...
As far back as I can remember, I wrote. Private young-girl thoughts in secret diaries, then poetry filled with teenage angst and dark poetry peppered with profanity. I wrote daily letters to God in Hilroy notebooks, short stories and poems for kids, sad country songs, and raw truth-telling stories about life growing up in a blue-collar neighbourhood in Northwestern Ontario. These are those stories and poems.