My brother has a new toy. It's made of wood and shaped like a 'v'. He throws it in the air and it comes back to him.
"It's very important that I catch it. It could take off my head," he tells me. "Indigenous Australians used it to hunt."
I threw it in the air but I didn't catch it. It didn't come back to me.
Now I can't go outside because it's waiting to take off my head.
I wrote this review in 1987 for the University of Winnipeg's Children's Literature course.
I would if I could
If I couldn't, how could I?
I couldn't, without I could, could I?
Could you, without you, could ye?
Could ye? Could ye?
Could you, without you could, could ye?
I love the nonsense of this nursery rhyme. It seems to flow in a silly fashion, begging to be told. It gives far more in fun and frolic than it ever demands of the listener. It does, however, have a message: that it is silly and unnecessary to think too much. I agree whole-heartedly with its unmistakable logic.
Wednesday, March 17
Podcast: Author Reading
celebrating spring with...
Like Magic (short story)
Sunday, March 21
The Barren Grounds
David A Robertson
...is set in early November in Winnipeg and is about two Cree foster children--thirteen-year-old Morgan and twelve-year-old Eli.
photo by ldyck
Last week I enjoyed listening to...
This week I look forward to continuing listening to...
Interviews with authors
Sharing my author journey...
Falling in love with my current manuscript is like falling in love with a puppy with big paws. I just keep telling myself, "It just can't grow any bigger." ...and then it does.
But...? Okay, just a sec. I'll type 'how big should a novel be' into this search engine. See... The answer is 70,000 words. So, at 75,000 words, my manuscript is of average length. Maybe what's happened is that I've finally found a glove and got into the game. Or maybe I should have written clicked my pen and got in the game?