The Idiot on Fire sings even brighter than he burns

I’m at a book launch, and I’m standing in front of this table. There are many tiny, colourful books on the table. I’ve already...

The Whetting Stone offers a sharp portrayal of grief

Grief is a very hard thing to write about, mostly because it is so all-encompassing, and the kinds of grief that merit writing about...

Finding community by pressing ourselves together

You’re a writer, or you’re trying to be. That’s more accurate. After all, what does it mean to be a writer? Or a poet?...

The Summer Book is summer

The Summer Book is a collection of personal essays — poignant and ambrosial — by 24 B.C. writers. Each piece is a reflection on...

He’s not a Hobbit, but it’s quite a journey

I told myself that once post-grad I would commit myself to reading all of the classics, theory, and textbooks that I faked understanding over...

What’s in a Digsite: Owain Nicholson Finds Meaning in Dirt

With the opening line, “Aspen are pale femurs thrust skyward,” working archaeologist Owain Nicholson welcomes readers into such excavations of fractal similarities. The first...

Book review: Wenjack

Joseph Boyden’s Wenjack is a simplistic but poignantly written novella on the end of 12-year-old Chanie “Charlie” Wenjack’s life. A member of the Ojibwa...

Kayla Czaga rips the door off time and helps us walk...

Whispering secrets in bed-sheet forts, public transit proclamations, plucking wisdom from philosopher baristas and unruly uncles, Kayla Czaga’s poetry subverts the analytical brain to access a deeper insight using concrete language and endearing vulnerability. For Your Safety Please Hold On is a masterful debut from a Canadian poet that manages to be both frighteningly personal and painfully relatable.

Humans: Dysconnected fools with tools

The literature of facts can be the scariest literature of all. There are 7.4 billion people on our planet and more than 7.4 billion cell phones. Right now, more people have access to a cellphone than to a toilet

Killer doesn’t quite kill it

I first heard of Kimmy Walters on Twitter. I don’t remember how exactly, but it must have been as it always is with Twitter: somebody retweets something and I impulsively follow the retweeted party.

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