Let’s go to the FOLD!

I’m thrilled to welcome Margrit Talpalaru, who is going to share some terrific observations and enthusiatic praise for the recent inaugural Festival of Literary Diversity (FOLD), which took place in Brampton, Ontario over the first weekend of May, 2016.

I regret missing the fest, but am grateful for the next best thing, seeing it through Margrit’s eyes. She brings a unique combination of the erudite and the fan girl to her observations, which I think you’re really going to enjoy. First, here’s an introduction to our literary festival guide:

Margrit has been going to school for many years, in spite of repeated decisions to stop. During those many years, Margrit changed schools, changed countries, changed roles, changed diapers, and tried hard to change the world.

Mostly, Margrit’s attempts to change the world have taken a written form. Here’s a list. Lately, Margrit has been hard at work trying to change genres, too, and make her foray into fiction.

Margrit blogs at www.creativecritique.ca, and tweets @MeMargrit.


“When queer / trans / poc writers are treated as artists as opposed to just spokespersons of our identities, it’s very liberating.”
(Vivek Shraya, 7 May 2016)

“So many wonderful things about @TheFOLD_ but esp. loved sharing space with diverse writers and not being forced to talk about diversity.” (Vivek Shraya, 7 May 2016)

Vivek Shraya’s tweeted contention emerged as the leitmotif running through the sessions of the inaugural Festival of Literary Diversity (FOLD), which took place May 6-8 in the remarkable venue of the Peel Art Gallery Museum and Archives (PAMA) in Brampton. Panelist after panelist echoed Shraya in remarking how crucial it is for diversity to become the assumption, rather than the subject of advocacy. In a panel about diversity in publishing, Bianca Spence said she had always been the one person of colour on staff, “but it’s not my job to teach my boss diversity.” What happens when the burden of proof and the need for validation are removed is a true celebration of diversity in literature, as the FOLD had set out as its mission in the first place. By this measure alone, the inaugural FOLD was a resounding success. But the Festival went far beyond merely fulfilling its mission statement, and the excitement around it can be easily gauged by the plethora of tweets under its hashtag #FOLD2016. (Go ahead and take a peek; I won’t tell anyone if you join the chorus.)

Isn’t this the point of diversity, that we can only achieve it collectively, rather than by token representation? That its value is intrinsic, rather than didactic or instrumental? That we, as a society should do everything to achieve it in all aspects not because it’s the concept du jour, but #becauseits2016?

The panelists’ consensus made me realize where the Festival drew so much of its energy from. The FOLD’s foundation on celebrating diversity leaves room to discuss the richness of all aspects of writing and publishing, as well as seek solutions to the disproportionate representation of people of different backgrounds, sexualities, abilities, and ages in literature and publishing. The choir needed no preaching to, so it just sang. In multiple harmonies.


The richness of topics and viewpoints carried through to the panel options: whether interested in craft, publishing, self-promotion, or genre, there was always a brilliant choice among the concurrent panels. The only problem I had was I wanted to attend them all, but since this was no fantasy, I had to pick, and not once did I feel short-changed, both because of the in-depth discussions in the panel themselves, as well as because of the cross-pollinating conversations among them during the breaks or through social media.

I was greedy in my attendance, and went to all types of panels on offer. I started out the day listening to a conversation on “Faith and Fiction,” between Vivek Shraya, Zarqa Nawaz, Ayelet Tsabari, Cherie Dimaline, moderated by Eufemia Fantetti. I am not even a little bit shy about fan-girling over the depth of the discussion, which emphasized cultural influences in the participants’ writing through the lens of faith or spirituality. Fantetti’s questions were both prodding and generous, and the panelists’ answers revealed their personal connections to their background, and their own interpretations of it in their writing.


Tsabari joked that “Growing up Jewish in Israel, we didn’t have to practice Judaism; we were just naturally good at it.” Shraya emphasized the crucial importance of representation, noting that “Queer kids had to be creative about where they found role models, so I found it in Hindu iconography,” with its more fluid gender boundaries. Nawaz spoke about the politicization of Islam, and how that creates generic expectations for her writing. Because of the portrayal of Muslims in the media—especially in the US—Nawaz suggested that writing a domestic novel about a Muslim woman can be transgressive. Dimaline shared the story of her upbringing in the Georgian Bay Métis Community, and the honour and responsibility of becoming a storyteller: “It’s the job of community’s story-keepers to provide a blanket of safety and spirituality and to uphold the duty to the seven generations.”

Next up, Aga Maksimowska moderated the panel on “Publishing (More) Diverse Canadian Stories,” which gathered publishing professionals from different branches of the industry. The panel description was

“From acquisition to acquired reading, industry professionals Anita Chong (Penguin-Random House), Barbara Howson (House of Anansi), Rachel Thompson (ROOM Magazine), Bianca Spence (OMDC), and Susan Travis (Scholastic Books) discuss ways to improve access to diverse, Canadian stories at home and beyond Canadian borders. Animated by Leonicka Valcius, this session is designed for industry professionals.”

However, the popularity (standing-room only) of the panel demonstrated that festival participants from all aspects of the book universe were hungry for answers and solutions.

We were not disappointed, as the panelists all focused on solutions, and how to proceed in the future, rather than on rehashing the obstacles. Thompson, for example, explained how the Room Editorial Collective restructured itself with an eye on including editors from different backgrounds before the “Women of Colour” issue was published. Chong echoed the notion of inclusion cautioning decision-makers to “be cognizant of who gets a voice at the table, because inclusiveness and quality are not mutually exclusive.” The unanimous conclusion pointed to the interconnection between the different aspects of the publishing industry: Spence emphasized the need for arts funding for the stories to be written in the first place; Howson challenged publishers to look for voices from around the world; Travis urged marketing and sales departments to ask book sellers why they’d think they would not sell diverse books, as well as push them not to insulate different voices in boxes, but put them on their genre shelves instead.

These are only three of the five panels I’ve attended. And I’ve only gone to one day of the Festival, so I hope this quick glimpse convinces you that my title was not a cheap pun, but genuine advice: the FOLD has only just begun, but it is sure to become a touchstone for literary and publishing conferences, so I know I’ll get my day passes as soon as they appear next year, and I hope you will, too.

The Brief Reincarnation of a Girl, by Sue Goyette

bookcover-brief-reincarnationSue Goyette’s The Brief Reincarnation of a Girl has left me breathless and heartbroken by a tragic story uniquely depicted. Goyette’s series of linked poems has also left me awestruck once again at her singular gifts for evoking emotion and revelations through startling juxtapositions of animate and inanimate, real and imagined, quick and dead, soulless and spiritual.

Those gifts were on fine display in her 2014 Griffin Poetry Prize shortlisted collection Ocean. In those poems, she brought the ocean to life as a full character, brimming with capriciousness, mischief and even menace as it interacts with the community that relies on, reveres it, cherishes it and fears it.

Goyette’s startlingly unique takes on the many people who failed an abused child might seem inexplicably frivolous and irreverent at first glance.

“Her prescription pad was important to the doctor.”

“The girl’s father had been prescribed aluminum foil.”

“The lawyer prayed for a parking space.”

“The girl’s mother, without telling the doctor, had taken
double her dose of television and had neglected
to take any of her patience.”

In fact, the tone of muted whimsy serves cumulatively powerful purposes over the course of the collection. In its way, it enables the reader to not turn away, as a more baldly stated account of the child’s fate would likely do. It defuses the power of the selfishness, perversity, cruelty and neglect visited on an innocent, and reduces pointedly to ridiculousness the factors and the pathetic figures that contributed to her death. At the same time, that fairy tale-like tone captures a child’s spirit and ultimately offers hints of hope and redemption, felt in this unconventional eulogy’s final lines:

“… several seasons later,
the tree surprised the bear by flowering; its fruits a succulence
that chimed with her loss a new kind of nourishment.”

The tactile warmth of another finely crafted Gaspereau book, emblazoned with a specially commissioned woodcut by George Walker of a bear – the child’s one protector – add to this singular collection’s approachability on a subject typically of despair.

The Brief Reincarnation of a Girl
Sue Goyette
Published by Gaspereau Press
2015 / Poetry / $19.95
9781554471461 / Trade paper / 64 pp

A Slim Green Silence, by Beverly Rycroft

With literary life force Kimmy Beach at the guest reviewer controls, we’re not only in for a treat, but we’re going to learn a lot. First, let’s meet our bookish guide:

Kimmy Beach’s fifth book, The Last Temptation of Bond (The University of Alberta Press, 2013), was chosen as one of the best five poetry books of the year on Quill & Quire’s 2013 Readers’ Poll. The book was longlisted for the 2013 Alberta Readers’ Choice Award, and was featured on CBC Radio One’s The Next Chapter with Shelagh Rogers.

Kimmy’s poetry, fiction, articles, and reviews have appeared in journals across the country and in the UK, and she has read across Canada. Her second book, Alarum Within: theatre poems, has been adapted as a full-length stage play by both the University of Toronto and the Red Deer College Theatre and Film Studies Programme. She’s working on a novella about a giant puppet, and a novel featuring 1970s romance comics and This is Tom Jones (1969-1971). Kimmy holds a First Class Honours Degree in English from the University of Alberta, and lives in Red Deer, Alberta with her husband, Stu.

Constance (Connie) West is the narrator of Beverly Rycroft’s first novel, A Slim Green Silence. Connie has died, but she’s not yet left Scheepersdorp—her small South African town. Don’t worry; I’m not giving anything away. We know this within a few sentences as Connie herself tells us. Rycroft gives us this fairly familiar premise in which to place her narrative and its central character. Connie says, “Below this cluster of roofs are all the people I ever loved.” But A Slim Green Silence is far more than the story of an earth-bound soul peering in on her loved ones’ lives going on without her, and trying to decipher why she’s still here. It is also an allegory for a country on the verge of redefining itself.

Rycroft’s drawing of Connie is sharp and unflinching. Despite her declaration of love for the people she’s left behind, Connie makes no bones about her ambivalence when her daughter Marianne is born. She actively ignores the child, and is happy to let everyone else raise her. Everyone else includes her sister Sheila, her “uncle” Harry, and their domestic worker, Princess, who rules the place with an iron fist.

From her vantage point outside the windows of her former home, Connie’s spirit watches life carry on without her. She grows more affectionate toward those she took for granted: particularly Marianne. A boatman accompanies her, waiting to take her to the other side. The image of the boatman (or ferryman) is a common figure in narratives of this kind, in which a dead character is tied to the place he or she lived and needs to be ferried to the other side. Rycroft’s boatman, however, differs in that he himself has been wounded. Rycroft writes that he “doesn’t seem to notice the red-black stain seeping through the blue fabric on the left side of his chest.” The boatman stays by Connie’s side and gives her until half past six that evening to find what she needs to set herself free.

The idea of this time limit appeals to me, and I like that Connie (and perhaps the boatman as well) is on the clock and yet powerless to make her former friends and family move more quickly to help her discover what will release her. As the family prepares for Connie’s memorial, Rycroft gives us flashbacks to when Connie was alive. Now, she searches for meaning and for the missing puzzle piece that will set her soul free.


The image of an unruly, almost unbearably loud pandemonium of parrots runs through the book, humorous and lyrical at turns. The parrots roost in an ancient yellowwood tree on Connie’s property, on an untended plot of ground that is a point of contention between Connie and her neighbours. The parrots fly out of the yellowwood at 6:30am every day to strip Harry’s pecan trees bare: “immediately, the sky will cloud over and a rippling orange-green carpet of parrots will tear through the valley to drop to the plot below.”

Wild parrots are largely unfamiliar to a North American reading audience, but the image of noisy birds in organized packs is nothing we haven’t seen. On any July morning in a tree-filled suburb in Alberta, the families of baby magpies would try the patience of Saint Monica. Rycroft speaks to the universal with images like this, and reminds us that birds are birds and people are people, no matter where they are. Connie remembers her mother, who “didn’t seem to care what [we] did, so long as we did it outside.” I had an instant flash of recognition remembering my own mother’s admonition when we claimed—dramatically—that we were dying. “Die quietly,” she’d say. “And do it outside.”

These touches—and the strength of the story itself—do not alienate the reader from the South African setting. Rather, they draw us in with their reminders of our shared experience. Beverly and I connected via social media and briefly discussed my reading of her book. I point to the wide-reaching accessibility of her narrative as during our conversation, she had expressed a touch of worry that the Afrikaans and Xhosa phrases might be off-putting for a North American reader. Because there is no glossary in the book, she offered to translate the phrases for me if I stumbled on anything I didn’t understand. I told her I felt confident that because I’d read a good number of South African books, I was sure I’d be able to read the expressions in context.

As a great believer in meeting an author halfway and not wanting to have anything spoon-fed to me, I went into the book with my Afrikaans dictionary nearby. But I didn’t need it. That’s not a commentary on how many words I know; rather, it shows Rycroft’s tremendous skill in giving us a little of the language without the need for a glossary. Her sentences are seamless and incorporate other languages without the narrative losing pace or drive. Even if a reader knew not one word of Afrikaans, I don’t know a reader anywhere who would not understand this: “As they reach the back step of the stoep, the dogs inside the house start to tjank.”


A Slim Green Silence is set in 1994: the year of South Africa’s first democratic election following the end of apartheid. I think it’s no accident that Connie dies that year. The transformation she undergoes as she tries to understand why she cannot leave seems to parallel the great changes 1994 brought to South Africa.

Constance’s name is in itself a metaphor, I believe. The elections of 1994 brought about an end to the troubled but constant rule of apartheid. Constance’s death coincides with the death of the oppressive structures that had been holding South Africa and its peoples hostage for decades.

Connie is able to stay near her family long enough to know that they will be preserving the overgrown plot of land, including her beloved yellowwood tree. If the plot of land represents South Africa itself (as I think, on one level, it does), then she is earthbound until she knows that her loved ones and her home—her country—are safe.

As the ferryman rows her away:

For the first time, he smiles.

      It’s like the sun coming out. It’s more like a flash of lightning in a midnight storm. For those few dazzling seconds, the landscape ignites and everything is clear and comprehensible: the lake, the murky sky, the last pinpricks of light from Scheepersdorp. Even the darkness crawling towards us from the nearby shore. […]

      The Boatman can see all this, too. His sloe eyes are larger than the moon. They see everything. They contain everything. I want to lean forward and brush my fingertips against the skin of his hand, but already the edges are starting to dissolve.

If Connie’s plot of land represents South Africa, I like to think of the ferryman as the wounded heart of that country setting Connie and itself free at the same time.

In 1994, there will be challenges and difficulties for the family in the preservation of Connie’s plot of land, just as there will be challenges and upheaval as the edges start to dissolve in her post-apartheid country. Without being heavy-handed, Beverly Rycroft parallels Connie’s personal search for meaning and eventual freedom with the birth of a new South Africa.

A Slim Green Silence by Beverly Rycroft (Umuzi/Random House, South Africa, 2015)

My thanks to Helen Moffett for her editorial eye on this piece.


See also:

Guides, Drinks and Stacks of Books: My Journey into South African Literature
By Kimmy Beach
(first published in WestWord: Magazine of the Writers’ Guild of Alberta, 35:6)

Heaven sent
Samantha Gibb is enthralled by A Slim Green Silence, Beverly Rycroft’s beautifully crafted debut

A Little Life, by Hanya Yanagihara

bookcover-alittlelifeThe term “fairy tale” describes circumstances or things notably blessed with great happiness and good fortune, such as a fairy tale ending or a fairy tale wedding or romance.

In the centuries-old form of oral and written storytelling, those unjustly harmed, downtrodden and beleaguered are rescued and showered with rewards and love. The compensation arrives by various forms of magic and divine intervention. Modern fairy tales focus almost exclusively on the glorious rewards and glosses over the cruelties that precede them. Before fairy tales evolved into children’s entertainment (and further, were cinematically Disney-fied), they were actually as macabre and violent as anything Quentin Tarantino could wickedly concoct.

And that’s where I arrive at a way of encapsulating and working my way to some kind of recovery from the reading experience that is A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara. Days since my eyes slipped from the end of what did not feel like page 720 because it went so swiftly, I’m still digesting and reeling from what is essentially a fairy tale, with an intense concentration of abuse and sorrow thrown up against an equally dense compression of transcendent joy, accomplishment and love encompassed in this book.

Four young men graduate from a small Massachusetts college and remain friends as they pursue their lives and careers in New York. The book traces the relationships of actor Willem, artist JB, architect Malcolm and lawyer Jude from post adolescence to late adulthood. The era in which their story unfolds is not specific, but is contemporary. As the friends move from youth to maturity and to notable measures of success, theirs is literally and figuratively a rich universe, strangely cloistered from or devoid of financial considerations or the influence of technological change or world events. (Set in New York City and environs, a notable historical event is almost startlingly absent.)

The relationships of the four young men intertwine and at times unravel, then spool back, in believable and organic fashion over the years. Increasingly implausible, however, is the tolerated mystery around the horrific traumas in Jude’s early life, which inform and affect his savagely self-abusive behaviour as an adult. As readers, we learn more than Jude’s friends, adoptive family and ostensibly close circle about the nature and extent of these traumas, making his behaviour and secrecy perversely understandable, but as frustrating for knowing it as not.

Simultaneously frustrating and awe-inspiring is Jude’s contemplation later in life, when it would be fair to say that life has continued to test with rollercoaster alternations of happiness and grief:

“It had always seemed to him a very plush kind of problem, a privilege, really, to consider whether life was meaningful or not. He didn’t think his was. But this didn’t bother him so much.

“And although he hadn’t fretted over whether his life was worthwhile, he had always wondered why he, why so many others went on living at all; it had been difficult to convince himself at times, and yet so many people, so many millions, billions of people, lived in misery he couldn’t fathom, with deprivations and illnesses that were obscene in their extremity. And yet on and on and on they went.”

Even frustrated and repeatedly pummelled along the way, the reader is drawn so inexorably into this extended, grim fairy tale of a story. A Little Life (the title itself is many-layered, and appears as a phrase in one of the book’s most wrenching scenes) is dream-like, but like the most haunting dreams, it is pervasive, puzzling, tormenting and deeply moving when one wakes … or when one closes the book. It is a sprawling, horrendous, heartwrenching, uplifting Cinderella story – where, fortunately and marvellously, the evil step-parent trope is upended.

There is much one can clinically criticize or dissect about A Little Life, but so very much one cannot emotionally or even spiritually dismiss.

What I read (and where I read it) in 2015


Here are the books I read in 2015, with links to reviews (here on this blog or on Goodreads) where I have them. (I confess that I didn’t get many books fully reviewed this past year. I’ll try to improve in that department in the upcoming year.) As I’ve done in previous years, this is an exhaustive, “all of” list, not a “best of” list.

I continued my commitment in 2015 to a daily devotion to at least one poem … and usually more, as friends on Twitter continued to generously share their poem choices and reflections via the #todayspoem hashtag. Now four years in, I haven’t missed a day, both contributing and enjoying selections from others in this edifying and vital communal experience. I’ve now pondered the works of well over 800 unique poets, writers, songsmiths and wordsmiths I’ve revisited or unearthed myself, and countless more via others wielding that often revelatory hashtag. On into its fifth year, I’m continuing with my #todayspoem habit every day heading into 2016, and I hope many will continue or join anew.

I also celebrated some uniquely beautiful books in 2015, including:

Here are the books I read, reread and read aloud in 2015. Wherever I go, I try to carry a book with me, so for each book, I’m also going to try to recall where I was when I was reading it.

  1. The Gallery of Lost Species
    by Nina Berkhout

    I read this book at my desk in my home office, as I prepared the readers’ guide / book club questions for this book, offered by House of Anansi Press.

  2. Mrs Killick’s Luck
    by Christina Fitzgerald

    As this book is in somewhat delicate condition, I never took it out of the house. I read this book at my desk in my home office and at the dining room table.

  3. Hard Light
    by Michael Crummey

    I toted this book everywhere – on the subway, on the streetcar, in coffee shops while waiting to meet up with friends.

  4. Fire and Air
    by Erik Vlamincky, translated by Paul Vincent

    This is another book I recall reading on transit.

  5. The First Bad Man
    by Miranda July

    Not only did I take this book with me on transit, but I was finishing the last few pages as I took the subway to see Miranda July at an Appel Salon event at the Toronto Reference Library.

  6. 10:04
    by Ben Lerner

    I was so wrapped up in this book that I had it with me when we went to see The New Pornographers at the Danforth Music Hall in early February, and I was reading it before the show started.

  7. Life is About Losing Everything
    by Lynn Crosbie

    I was definitely reading this book on the subway.

  8. The Devil You Know
    by Elisabeth de Mariaffi

    I read this book several times on the subway, including when I went to the Rowers Reading Series to hear Elisabeth de Mariaffi read from it. (She read a section I’d already read, if I recall correctly …)

  9. Into the Blizzard
    by Michael Winter
    (read aloud)

    This book was our (my husband and I) read aloud book over winter 2015. Typically, I read aloud while my husband concocts wonderful dinners for us – he’s an amazing chef. So, most read aloud time is in our cozy kitchen, around the cooktop island, accompanied by a glass or two of wine.

  10. Breathing Lessons
    by Andy Sinclair

    Both the engrossing story and the neon book cover brightened up a few subway rides.

  11. Backup Singers
    by Sommer Browning

    I remember reading this poetry collection in the kitchen and at the dining room table.

  12. Her Red Hair Rises With the Wings of Insects
    by Catherine Graham

    I took this poetry collection with me on a few errands, and I recall dipping into it while in the vet clinic waiting area, for example.

  13. Safely Home Pacific Western
    by Jeff Latosik

    This poetry collection accompanied me on several subway rides.

  14. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay
    by Michael Chabon

    I read this book in my home office as I followed along online as part of the One Book, One Chicago reading sprints. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay is a lively, addictive read perfectly suited to that participatory format. Our dog Fionn was often my company during reading sprints.

  15. My October
    by Claire Holden Rothman

    I recall reading this book on a restaurant patio on a surprisingly warm spring evening while waiting for a friend.

  16. The Road In Is Not The Same Road Out
    by Karen Solie

    I won a copy of this at the Anansi Poetry Bash, and started reading it on the subway ride home that very evening.

  17. Human Voices
    by Penelope Fitzgerald

    This is another delicate book not allowed out of the house. I recall reading it snuggled in my favourite reading chair and in bed.

  18. A Serious Call
    by Don Coles

    I recall that this poetry collection was my calming companion when I got stuck on the subway for a protracted delay one evening.

  19. One Night in Mississippi
    by Craig Shreve

    I distinctly remember reading this book at the cottage in early spring.

  20. Close to Hugh
    by Marina Endicott

    I got in some late spring/early summer porch reading with this wonderful book.

  21. Daddy Lenin and Other Stories
    by Guy Vanderhaeghe

    I remember reading this book in the comfy reading chair in our loft bedroom at the cottage.

  22. I Shall Not Hate / A Gaza Doctor’s Journey
    by Izzeldin Abuelaish

    I recall the bright sunshine at the cottage contrasting sharply with this somber but ultimately inspiring book.

  23. Something Crosses My Mind
    by Wang Xiaoni, translated by Eleanor Goodman

    I remember reading this poetry collection both at the cottage and at home.

  24. Tell
    by Frances Itani

    I definitely remember reading this book while relaxing on the dock at the cottage. In fact, I was so engrossed in it at one point that when I glanced up, a loon was swimming very close to the dock.

  25. Just Kids
    by Patti Smith

    This is another book I gobbled up while relaxing on the dock at the cottage.

  26. Where Did You Sleep Last Night
    by Lynn Crosbie

    I vividly recall reading a large chunk of this book on a long drive home from the cottage.

  27. Split
    by Libby Creelman

    I read this book at the cottage, on the dock, on a sunny rock, and indoors when the bugs were fierce.

  28. Loving Day
    by Mat Johnson

    When I’m alone at the cottage, I read while I’m eating. I recall reading this book at the cottage dining room table, with sunlight trickling in through the trees at the front of the cottage, with the pages of the book propped open with a chunk of quartz that I keep expressly for book-propping-open purposes.

  29. The Green Road
    by Anne Enright

    Not only did I savour this book while alone at the cottage, but I had a wonderful discussion about it with one of my cottage neighbours while walking the dogs one morning.

  30. Wrapped in Plastic – Twin Peaks
    by Andy Burns

    I have very fond and vivid memories of reading this book, accompanied by a mini binge watch of Twin Peaks on DVD, over a few rainy days alone at the cottage. I set up a portable DVD player in the loft bedroom, curled up in a comfy chair with book, popcorn and bourbon, and had myself a wonderful, spooky time with Agent Cooper et al.

  31. Daydreams of Angels
    by Heather O’Neill

    I remember reading this book in the waiting room at the doctor’s office. I’m always very glad to bring my own reading material to waiting rooms …

  32. What You Need
    by Andrew Forbes

    I definitely recall reading this book on a number of subway and streetcar rides.

  33. Fifteen Dogs
    by Andre Alexis

    This book was another much appreciated transit companion … although the book rendered me verklempt more than one in public.

  34. Outline
    by Rachel Cusk

    This book was my travel companion on a sunny autumn day when I took the subway to Harbourfront for Word on the Street, then took the Spadina streetcar and subway to the High Park Reading Festival, and then took the subway home in the evening when the High Park poetry readings were over.

  35. Martin John
    by Anakana Schofield

    Is it kind of ironic that I read this book on the subway?

  36. Malarky
    by Anakana Schofield

    This book was another constant transit companion.

  37. Arvida
    by Samuel Archibald, translated by Donald Winkler

    I carried this book with me to and fro on the subway to International Festival of Authors (IFOA) events, and often read it between events, too.

  38. Sideshow Concessions
    by Lucas Crawford

    In addition to Arvida, I also had this poetry collection with me during IFOA visits. Before a reading, I recall sitting upstairs in the Queens Quay building, gazing out at Lake Ontario, reading a few poems from this collection, alternating with stories from Arvida.

  39. How You Were Born
    by Kate Cayley

    I remember purchasing this very fine short story collection at IFOA. I remember reading it during a wintry visit to the cottage.

  40. Twoism
    by Ali Blythe

    I distinctly recall reading this poetry collection on the subway, and getting a look from a young woman across from me of that special recognition that readers give each other.

  41. The Good Dark
    by Ryan Van Winkle

    This poetry collection was another fine transit companion.

  42. His Whole Life
    by Elizabeth Hay

    I tend to drift off after just a few pages when I read in bed, but this book held my attention and often kept me awake, but in a good way.

  43. Dear Leader
    by Damian Rogers

    I distinctly recall reading this poetry collection while sitting in a pub, having a beer and waiting to meet my husband for dinner. I was especially grateful to have those poems for company, as all the screens in the pub, which normally showed sporting events, were all tuned to some infuriating and violent breaking news about which I’d had enough.

  44. Makarska
    by Jim Bartley

    This novel was an excellent and absorbing subway companion during a week when I had a lot of appointments, meetings and errands to run.

  45. Confidence
    by Russell Smith

    I was reading (and being charmed by) this book at a restaurant while waiting to meet a friend for dinner, followed by the Tafelmusik rendition of Handel’s Messiah at Koerner Hall.

  46. A Whole Life
    by Robert Seethaler

    I was reading this book as we drove from Toronto to Kitchener on Christmas morning to visit with family.

In 2015, I read 31 works of fiction (novels and short story collections), 11 poetry collections and 4 works of non-fiction.

Currently in progress, heading into 2016:

  • Hope Makes Love
    by Trevor Cole

  • Just Watch Me – The Life of Pierre Elliott Trudeau: 1968-2000
    by John English
    (read aloud)

    This book was particularly comforting and almost talismanic to read during the interminable 2015 federal election campaign.

Looking back fondly on my 2015 reading, looking forward eagerly and with anticipation to my 2016 reading, I’ll simply conclude (as I’ve done in previous years) …

It’s not how many you read that counts. It’s that you read that counts.

2015 literary events … and looking ahead to 2016

As I observed in 2014, we’re tremendously blessed here in the Greater Toronto area and beyond that, to southwestern Ontario, with a year-round wealth of live events through which one can experience the joy of the written word. You can hear those wonderful words read aloud, you can meet the writers, you can purchase their works (and often get them signed or inscribed), you can celebrate with fellow booklovers. The places in which these experiences take place run the gamut, from libraries, bookstores, lecture and performance halls, to pubs, coffee shops and living rooms. It’s important to support local and regional events, but if you have fewer live options in your neck of the woods, more and more, you can still be part of literary events in the ether, as readings and panels are broadcast and livestreamed online. You can be in a remote location or under the weather and in your jammies and you can still partake of literary delights.

Reviewing my 2015 literary outings (most of them to live events, but also a few online), it looks like I went to about the same number of events, but to somewhat less of a range of venues sponsored by specific organizations, publishers and so on. This year, Toronto Public Library’s programming (between their eh List Canadian literature offerings and their Appel Salon events) seemed to hit a very appealing sweet spot, and we found ourselves heading to a number of their events.

With every event I attended, I did my best to tweet in advance that I was attending, and then where possible and with the permission of those with whom I was attending, I tweeted quotes from and observations about the events while they were in progress. I’ve captured a selection of those tweets, including retweets from others attending the same events, here:


As it was heading into 2015, my goal in 2016 is to do even more, if I can, to support authors, publishers and booksellers by attending and talking about their events.

January 22, 2015
Appel Salon – Toronto Public Library
Venue: Toronto Reference Library
Writer: Peter Carey
Host/moderator: Jared Bland
Peter Carey, Australia’s two time Man Booker Prize winner, read from and discussed his new novel Amnesia with The Globe and Mail‘s Arts Editor Jared Bland.

January 29, 2015
Appel Salon – Toronto Public Library
Venue: Toronto Reference Library
Writer: Miranda July
Host/moderator: Sheila Heti
Filmmaker, artist and writer Miranda July enjoyed a congenial interview with author Sheila Heti, in front of a very receptive capacity audience. Read more about the event here, and replay it here.

February – April, 2015
One Book, One Chicago Reading Sprints for The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon
It was a reading event promoted primarily for readers living in Chicago, but because it included an online read-along component, I was able to take part in the One Book, One Chicago Reading Sprints for The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon from Toronto. The program is described here, and I wrote here about what I got out of it, which was a great experience reading a captivating book.

March 2, 2015
Rowers Reading Series
Venue: Central, Markham Street, Toronto
Writers: Elisabeth de Mariaffi, George Murray, Waubgeshig Rice, Kathleen Winter
Host/moderator: Heather Wood
The Rowers Reading Series is a monthly literary reading series based in Toronto, which runs the first Monday of the month, from October to June. The series showcases the finest poetry, fiction and nonfiction writers from diverse backgrounds, as well as selected emerging writers. The reading series was incorporated in May 2007. The March 2nd, 2015 lineup is described here.

April 9, 2015
McClelland & Stewart Poetry Night at International Festival of Authors (IFOA)
Venue: Brigantine, Harbourfront Centre, Toronto
Writers: Madhur Anand, Dionne Brand, Kevin Connolly, Lorna Crozier, Liz Howard, Cassidy McFadzean
Host/moderator: Jacob McArthur Mooney
Read more about this event here.

Since its inception in 1974, the International Festival of Authors (IFOA), which started as the Harbourfront Reading Series, has played an important role in the cultural life of Canada. IFOA presents the finest international novelists, poets, playwrights, short story writers and biographers, and provides Canadian writers with an internationally recognized forum in which to present their work. IFOA events range from weekly readings to their annual fall literary extravaganza to initiatives for younger readers.

April 15, 2015
Anansi Poetry Bash
Venue: The Tranzac, Toronto
Writers: Shane Book, A.F. Moritz, Erin Moure, Karen Solie, David O’Meara reading on behalf of Elise Partridge
Host/moderator: Damian Rogers
This was yet another evening of compelling readings from the latest crop of fine poetry coming from House of Anansi Press, a storied Canadian publishing company founded in 1967 by Dennis Lee and David Godfrey, and early publisher of Margaret Atwood, Michael Ondaatje, Matt Cohen and other writers forming the foundation of modern Canadian literature.

April 28, 2015
Shab-e She’r (Poetry Night)
Venue: Beit Zatoun, Markham Street, Toronto
Writers: Timaj Garad, David Bateman
Host/moderator: Bänoo Zan
Read more about this event here.
The most diverse poetry reading and open mic in Toronto, for more than two years Shab-e She’r has been bridging the gap between diverse poetry communities, bringing together people from different ethnicities, nationalities, ages, disabilities, religions (or lack thereof), poetic styles, voices and visions.

May 19, 2015
Toronto Public Library Author Talk and Lecture Series
Venue: North York Public Library
Writer: Anne Enright
Host/moderator: Marci Ien
Man Booker Award-winning bestselling author Anne Enright read from her latest, The Green Road and was then interviewed by Canada AM’s Marci Ien.

May 27, 2015
Toronto Public Library Author Talk and Lecture Series
Venue: North York Public Library
Writer: Marina Endicott
Host/moderator: Alissa York
Giller-shortlisted Marina Endicott visited with her new comic novel, Close to Hugh. She and author Alissa York enjoyed a warm, wide-ranging conversation.

June 3, 2015
Griffin Poetry Prize 2015 shortlist readings
Venues: Koerner Hall, Toronto + livestream
writers: Eleanor Goodman, Wang Xiaoni, Marek Kazmierski, Wioletta Greg, Michael Longley, Spencer Reece, Shane Book, Jane Munro, Russell Thornton
Host: Scott Griffin
Founded in 2000, the Griffin Poetry Prize is the world’s largest prize for a first edition single collection of poetry written in English, with international (including translation) and Canadian prizes. The Griffin Trust For Excellence In Poetry aims to spark the public’s imagination and raise awareness of the crucial role poetry plays in our cultural life. One of the most coveted Canadian arts events tickets are those to the annual Griffin Poetry Prize shortlist readings, which are now generously shared via livestream so poetry lovers around the world can enjoy them.

September 17, 2015
Toronto Public Library eh List Author Series
Venue: Toronto Public Library Beaches Branch
Writer: André Alexis
André Alexis read from Fifteen Dogs, which was shortlisted for the Toronto Book Award and longlisted for the Scotiabank Giller Prize at the time of the reading. The book went on to win the Giller Prize and the Writers’ Trust award.

toronto-public-librarySeptember 24, 2015
Appel Salon – Toronto Public Library
Venue: Toronto Reference Library
Writer: Salman Rushdie
Host/moderator: Brent Bambury
Read more about and replay the audio of this event here.

September 27, 2015
Word on the Street
Venue: Harbourfront, Toronto
In its new Harbourfront Centre location, Toronto Word on the Street (one of several Word on the Street festivals across Canada) invited booklovers to participate in hundreds of author readings, discussions, and activities, and shop in a marketplace that boasts the best selection of Canadian books and magazines anywhere.

September 27, 2015
High Park Reading Festival
Venue: High Park, Toronto
Writers: Liz Howard, Amanda Jernigan, Jim Johnstone, Stevie Howell, Phoebe Wang, Anna Yin, Jeff Latosik, Ian Williams, Priscila Uppal, Ken Babstock, Alexandra Oliver, Damian Rogers, Madhur Anand, Ben Ladouceur, A.F. Moritz, Robin Richardson, Daniel Renton, Julie Cameron Gray, Helen Guri, Laura Clarke, Bardia Sinaee

October 1, 2015
#RaiseAGlass4Alistair for the Bookmark for Alistair MacLeod’s No Great Mischief
On October 1, 2015, Project Bookmark launched the 14th bookmark on Canada’s literary trail, commemorating Alistair MacLeod’s No Great Mischief on Cape Breton Island. Part of the cross-Canada celebration included a virtual toast using the hashtag #RaiseAGlass4Alistair.

ifoa2October 24, 2015
International Festival of Authors (IFOA) – Poets’ Summit
Venue: Lakeside Terrace, Harbourfront Centre, Toronto
Writers: Brecken Hancock, Talya Rubin, Zachariah Wells
Host/moderator: Erin Balser
Read more about this event here.

October 25, 2015
International Festival of Authors (IFOA) – Short and Sweet
Venue: Studio Theatre, Harbourfront Centre, Toronto
Writers: Samuel Archibald, Kate Cayley, Tim Conley, David Constantine
Host/moderator: Steven W. Beattie
Read more about this event here.

October 25, 2015
International Festival of Authors (IFOA) – At Language’s Edge: Poetry in Translation
Venue: Studio Theatre, Harbourfront Centre, Toronto
Writers: Anna Aguilar-Amat, Erín Moure, Martí Sales
Host/moderator: Oana Avasilichioaei
Read more about this event here.

October 25, 2015
International Festival of Authors (IFOA) – Poets reading
Venue: Pub Hub, Harbourfront Centre, Toronto
Writers: Brecken Hancock, Kate Hargreaves, Jeff Latosik, Andy McGuire, Talya Rubin, Zachariah Wells, Liz Worth
Host/moderator: Oana Avasilichioaei
Read more about this event here.

October 27, 2015
International Festival of Authors (IFOA) – Artist talk with John Burnside
Venue: Pub Hub, Harbourfront Centre, Toronto
Writer: John Burnside
Host/moderator: Steven W. Beattie
Read more about this event here.

October 27, 2015
International Festival of Authors (IFOA) – Poets reading
Venue: Studio Theatre, Harbourfront Centre, Toronto
Writers: Claire Caldwell, Ulrikka S. Gernes, Stevie Howell, Damian Rogers, Deanna Young
Host/moderator: Jessice Moore
Read more about this event here.

October 28, 2015
International Festival of Authors (IFOA) – 25th Anniversary of CBC Radio’s Writers & Company
Venue: Fleck Dance Theatre, Harbourfront Centre, Toronto
Writers: Aleksandar Hemon, Caryl Phillips, Zadie Smith
Host/moderator: Eleanor Wachtel
Read more about this event here.

October 30, 2015
International Festival of Authors (IFOA) – Best Canadian Poetry Launch
Venue: Lakeside Terrace, Harbourfront Centre, Toronto
Writers: Barry Dempster, Richard Greene, Stevie Howell, Amanda Jernigan, Jeff Latosik, Jacob McArthur Mooney, A.F. Moritz, Shane Neilson, Hoa Nguyen, Alexandra Oliver, Karen Solie, Priscila Uppal
Hosts/moderators: Jacob McArthur Mooney, Molly Peacock
Read more about this event here.

October 31, 2015
International Festival of Authors (IFOA) – Authors reading
Venue: Brigantine Room, Harbourfront Centre, Toronto
Writers: Michel Basilières, Farzana Doctor, Milan Jesih, Anakana Schofield
Host/moderator: Ania Szado
Read more about this event here.

October 31, 2015
International Festival of Authors (IFOA) – In Conversation with Damian Rogers and Karen Solie
Venue: Lakeside Terrace, Harbourfront Centre, Toronto
Writers: Damian Rogers, Karen Solie
Host/moderator: Ken Babstock
Read more about this event here.

October 31, 2015
International Festival of Authors (IFOA) – Authors reading
Venue: Lakeside Terrace, Harbourfront Centre, Toronto
Writers: Kate Cayley, Elizabeth Hay, Mark Anthony Jarman, Jim Shepard
Host/moderator: Sheniz Janmohamed
Read more about this event here.

November 1, 2015
International Festival of Authors (IFOA) – In Conversation with Rosemary Sullivan
Venue: Fleck Dance Theatre, Harbourfront Centre, Toronto
Writers/guests: Chrese Evans, Rosemary Sullivan
Hosts/moderators: Anne Michaels, Grace O’Connell
Read more about this event here.

November 1, 2015
International Festival of Authors (IFOA) – Poetry Games
Venue: Lakeside Terrace, Harbourfront Centre, Toronto
Writers: Christian Bök, Claire Caldwell, Richard Greene, Stevie Howell, Andy McGuire, Shane Neilson, Alexandra Oliver, Damian Rogers, Dane Swan, Priscila Uppal
Host/moderator: Steven W. Beattie
Read more about this event here. (Andy McGuire was later crowned the competition winner.)

November 9, 2015
Scotiabank Giller Prize 2015 finalist readings
Venues: Koerner Hall, Toronto + livestream
writers: André Alexis, Samuel Archibald, Rachel Cusk, Heather O’Neill, Anakana Schofield
Hosts/moderators: Richard Crouse, Carol Off
The Giller Prize was founded in 1994 by Jack Rabinovitch in honour of his late wife, literary journalist Doris Giller, who passed away from cancer the year before. The award recognized excellence in Canadian fiction – long format or short stories – and endowed a cash prize annually of $25,000.00, the largest purse for literature in the country. Over 20 years later, the prize now provides $100,000 to the winner and $10,000 to each finalist. Part of the celebration of the finalists for the prize includes public readings and presentations of the nominated works, which are also presented via livestream.

December 8, 2015
Al Purdy Was Here documentary
Venue: Bloor Hot Docs Cinema, Toronto
Writers: Al Purdy, Leonard Cohen, Margaret Atwood + more
Host/moderator: Director Brian D. Johnson
What does it take to carve out a career as a poet? Why on earth would anyone attempt it? Al Purdy Was Here is the portrait of an artist driven to become a great Canadian poet at a time when the category barely existed. Al Purdy is a charismatic tower of contradictions: a “sensitive man” who whips out a poem in a bar fight; a factory worker who finds grace in an Arctic flower; a mentor to young writers who remained a stranger to sons. Purdy has been called the last, best and most Canadian poet. “Voice of the Land” is engraved on his tombstone. But before finding fame as the country’s unofficial poet laureate, he endured years of poverty and failure. Learn more here.

toronto-public-libraryDecember 10, 2015
Toronto Public Library eh List Author Series
Venue: Toronto Reference Library
Writers: John Geiger, Alanna Mitchell
Award-winning Canadian science journalist Alanna Mitchell and John Geiger, CEO of the Royal Canadian Geographical Society presented Franklin’s Lost Ship: The Historic Discovery of HMS Erebus.

To get the new year off to a promising start, I hope to attend the following:

January 6, 2016
Pivot Readings
Venue: The Steady Café, Toronto
Writers: Derek McCormack, Andy McGuire, Jane Munro
Host/moderator: Jacob McArthur Mooney
Learn more here.

… and who knows where it will go from there!

As I asked last year, I’d love to get your comments, here or on Twitter (sent to @bookgaga, please), on your favourite literary events of the past year, and what you’re looking forward to in the new year.

  • Did you attend any of the events listed above?
  • Did you see any of these same authors, but at different festivals, venues, etc.?
  • What were your favourite literary events of the year?
  • Who are your favourite literary programmers in your area?
  • Did you attend any virtual literary events last year?
  • What literary events are you looking forward to attending in the new year?
  • Who would you like to single out for praise for championing and organizing literary events in your community?

A Rewording Life, by Sheryl Gordon

A very special journey celebrating words and memory, in support of research into dementia

When Sheryl Gordon witnessed her mother, Yolande, losing her words to dementia, Sheryl developed a wrenchingly acute appreciation for the meaning of words … and that bittersweet realization inspired the creation of A Rewording Life. Sheryl reached out to over a thousand Canadians for whom words are vital – writers, editors, poets, journalists, performers, musicians, as well as sculptors, fashion designers, teachers, comedians and more – and asked them to contribute vibrant, unforgettable sentences using out of the ordinary words, to fight back against an affliction that makes words disappear.

rewording-bookMany of the contributors are well known, including Yann Martel, Terry Fallis, Miriam Toews, Measha Brueggergosman, Tony Dekker, Emma Donoghue, Joel Plaskett and many more. Some of the contributors are, well, folks like me. Like many, I have family and friends who have been affected by dementia, so it feels particularly gratifying to try to strike back at it with the power of words.

I’m not even sure the title of “writer” really fits, but heck, I wrote this sentence:


Two yoga mats over, the rosy-cheeked zaftig woman energetically, if clumsily yet cheerfully, went with the flow.

Interwoven among the myriad lively contributions are eight essays by Sheryl, the initial letters in the titles spelling out dementia. Scattered as the concept might seem, Sheryl hopes readers will embrace it. As she points out, confusion is, after all, the nature of this disease.

So, embrace it you should. In the process, you can help support organizations battling dementia. Half of the profits of each book will go to the Alzheimer Society of Canada.

Learn more about Sheryl, A Rewording Life, its worthy cause and all its amazing contributors at


Wrapped in Plastic, by Andy Burns

bookcover-wrapped-in-plasticThis slim collection of essays is an infectious appreciation of arguably (well, you get no argument from me) one of the most influential and defining creations ever to come out of television, the David Lynch / Mark Frost collaboration Twin Peaks. Author and pop culture aficionado Andy Burns (editor-in-chief of pop compendium web site Biff Bam Pop!) has packed his reflections with myriad details that will captivate longtime fans of the surprisingly short-lived show, bolstered with unique interviews with Twin Peaks writers, cast members and other principals and expanded accessibly with cultural and historical references and antecedents. The book also recommends itself as a great starting point for those new to Twin Peaks, as it moves forward from the show’s 1990-91 run to current programs that were clearly influenced by, benefited from and have paid homages to the Lynch/Frost pioneering creativity.

Wrapped in Plastic is a great accompaniment to a revisit/binge watch of the original program, especially the stunning and singular pilot movie. (I know, because that’s what the book inspired me to do, perfectly timed to some rainy afternoons during a cottage vacation week.) The book also reads well with such related books as The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer by Jennifer Lynch and Lynch on Lynch, creator David Lynch’s fascinating conversations with Chris Rodley about the Lynch oeuvre in which Twin Peaks is clearly central. Come to think of it, even Lynch’s Catching the Big Fish: Meditation, Consciousness, and Creativity offers insights into both his process … and even that of charming and enigmatic Twin Peaks protagonist FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper. The book is also a marvellous stopgap as those captivated by the original show await its continuation and/or resolution and/or who knows as it is reimagined by Mr. Lynch in the near future.

The Broken Hours, by Jacqueline Baker

Over the moon only starts to describe how thrilled I am to welcome Canadian writer, poet and playwright Leslie Greentree as a guest reviewer here. Her second collection of poetry, go-go dancing for Elvis, was shortlisted for the Griffin Poetry Prize. (Enjoy excerpts here and here.) I reviewed her short story collection A Minor Planet for You here. Oral Fixations, Greentree’s first play, co-written with Blaine Newton, was premiered in late 2014 by Ignition Theatre in Red Deer, Alberta. You want to follow her on social media, where her thoughts on things literary and theatrical are insightful and damned funny. You want to pay attention to her book recommendations and keep your ear to the ground for future literary announcements of her own …!


1936. A bleak and rainy night in Providence, Rhode Island. An impoverished Arthor Crandle makes his way to the home of his mysterious new employer, horror writer H.P. Lovecraft. Crandle is desperate for work, unfamiliar with Lovecraft’s fictions, and all too ready to overlook his employer’s idiosyncrasies. Crandle’s approach to the dark house is met with words of foreboding from a neighbour and, once within, no sign of his employer. And his initial ascent up the dim staircase becomes his first encounter with the dark presence that inhabits the landing.

The reader needs no familiarity with the work of H.P. Lovecraft to delight in the slow, delicious burn that is The Broken Hours. This work of gothic-style fiction is based in a solid knowledge of the work of H.P. Lovecraft and the final year of his life; from those points of fact, Jacqueline Baker builds her spooky world with a masterful hand, piling eerie moment on eerie moment, interspersed here and there with an uneasy, short-lived relief.

That first night, as Crandle makes his way past the landing, calling out to his unresponsive employer, he pauses for a moment, chilled at a sudden thought: “The unnatural, studied silence coming from the other side of the door was neither that of someone having just gone out nor of someone at focused work or even in deep sleep. Rather it was the stillness of someone’s strained listening, just on the other side. Watching, perhaps, through the crack there.”

The passive Crandle continues on to bed, clutching a letter that he discovers on the hall table. He adjusts to communicating with his reclusive employer through sporadic notes, and begins his work transcribing a haunting Lovecraft story. And then the beautiful Flossie arrives, bringing a certain light – and even more questions – into the house. Where is her roommate? In fact, where are all the women referenced by Lovecraft, and Crandle himself – an aunt, a mother, an estranged wife – a bevy of women just out of reach, apparently on their way back to this creaking, breathing house where the furniture shifts, where mysterious lights and figures appear and disappear? And what of the white-clad girl who drifts through the night garden?

The book is replete with images of damp, of bloat – a gleeful celebration of the moist and its shuddery effect on readers. Rain, damp clothing and heavy, humid skies are only the beginning. When Crandle first encounters the presence on the landing, he says that the air changed: “I do not know how else to describe it. It darkened, became more dense. The carpet grew unpleasantly thick beneath my shoes, a swollen thing.” Ugh. Lovely.

Crandle’s passivity, at first the recognizable response of a desperate man, begins to take on an eerie tone of its own: he arrives at Lovecraft’s home penniless. He’s also faint with hunger, but he sets aside the meagre and unappetizing fare Lovecraft provides. The house has no mirrors. As the narrator occasionally catches glimpses of himself in windows, he realizes he has lost weight, neglected to shave – indeed, become unrecognizable to himself.

And then there’s the letter Crandle’s employer has begged him to deliver to Lovecraft’s hospitalized mother. He can’t seem to do it; the days get away on him, only partly through Flossie’s welcome distractions. The unfulfilled mission builds anxiety in the reader’s mind even as it seems to escape Crandle’s. And the reader’s sense of unease with our narrator builds.

The creepy beauty of this novel lies in Baker’s steady, relentless build of atmosphere, a slow piling on of realizations and new questions. She sets us inside striking colour palettes: the gothic greys of dim rooms and heavy skies are offset by occasional moments of gilded light over distant buildings, flickering lights seen through night windows. And Crandle notes a lighter palette of cool purples and mauves in moments of reprieve: in the morning light, and as splashes of violet cushions and drapes that Flossie incorporates into her apartment. The same palette that offers temporary respite, however, is then mirrored in threatening skies that don’t quite rain, and – in perhaps the most disturbing scene of the entire book – in a monstrous, bruise-coloured tentacle Flossie and Crandle discover on the beach.

This is a book filled with moments where the reader feels – as Crandle does – that much of the action is happening just at the corner of your vision. Baker knows how to chill a reader more effectively than through ghouls shrieking out from the dark places. Things slither, our imagination grows: a jar of baby teeth scatters across the rug in a dimly lit room, a stone is lifted in a darkened yard, a hand passes over a nest of baby rats.

Early on, Crandle says, “I wonder, sometimes, what lives in us. I wonder what comes calling, what we invite inside.” It’s a sentiment the reader slowly catches up with – a slow and creeping recoil that leads inexorably to a twisty ending.

Crandle says, “If you want your secrets kept, they say, cloak them in candour.” On finishing The Broken Hours, you’re left with a satisfied crawling sensation, one that makes you want to wait a little while, to chew on what you saw and what you didn’t see, to move only slowly from the secrets of the moody mauve setting toward whatever candour you might find.