The New Year has always been an odd celebration, for me. I’m not much into resolutions or retrospectives, I’m allergic to the sulphites...

and now, after a great deal of fun, back to work. Maureen

Yesterday we toured through Glenbow Museum’s current show, Fairy Tales, Monsters and the Genetic Imagination. I’d heard wonderful things...

Christmas is an odd mix of chaos and peacefulness ­– I like a little of each. We’re adding to the Christmas chaos by building a...

After months of problems with my laptop, and far too many visits to the Apple Store, I finally have a new computer. (The details: MacBook...

When writers claim they write X amount a day – so many pages, so many words – as if they write at a steady pace, I think they lie. I’ve...

From William Steig’s (reluctant) speech of acceptance of the Caldecott medal for his children’s book, Sylvester and the Magic Pebble:...

Sunday I flew home from balmy San Diego (see palm fronds in sunlight, below), to ice and snow in Calgary. It was exquistely beautiful,...

Writing has come in fit and starts, mostly in the morning before sessions begin, with a pause for a sick day. It hasn’t felt brilliant...

I watched three people launch kayaks early yesterday morning, and one said, as she stepped into the water, “If we’re going to do this in...

On Friday, I’m off to San Diego for a meditation retreat. I’m also bringing my laptop, loaded with my current project and all the other...

I’ve been thinking about NaNoWrMo, November Novel Writing Month, in which participants strive to write a 50,000 novel in the month of...

Writing is going well, but I have no blogginess in me, at all, at all. Perhaps I’ll just share this quote: But I am very poorly today and...

We’re in the middle of a multi-day snowstorm. The snow looks like Hollywood fake snow, like soap flakes shaken out overhead, falling in...

A while ago I came across a quote by Louis Sachar, author of Holes: “I always feel like I live two lives. There’s the famous Louis Sachar...

After weeks of interruptions, including a mind-numbing cold, I’ve realized my desire to just sit and write is based on an illusion that...

Winter has arrived, in a sudden shift from a lovely fall. It came with a little warning, so I was able to take a few last flower photos,...

Most of the time, being a writer means being alone in a room. I don’t feel lonely, because I’m hanging out with my characters, but it is...

I’ve finished my three Wordfest sessions, and did them all without losing my voice to a hovering cold. The first was at Vertigo Theatre...

Somehow I keep getting pulled away from writing. Wordfest is next week, so I’m preparing for that: 9 days between Calgary and Banff, with...