Writing

I’m not a Patriot

Why don’t Canadians call ourselves patriots? Because our pride sounds different. Born from Loyalists, peacekeepers, and quiet builders, Canada’s strength has never been in shouting, it’s in showing up. From Confederation to Canada 150, our patriotism has stayed humble, civic, and collective. In an age of loud nationalism, that restraint isn’t weakness, it’s wisdom.

Chronicle #011: Post-Launch Signal Drift

It’s been a month since Pejorative left my desk and entered the noise. The algorithms have already decided who should see it and who should not. Every click feels like a vote of confidence, or a funeral rite.

Memoir Fragment #010: Uneven Dystopias

Dystopia isn’t arriving, it’s already here, just unevenly distributed. For some, it’s daily survival; for others, a new shock. This memoir fragment explores how silence becomes complicity, why endurance is not apathy, and how writing can stand as witness.

Dispatch #009: Guardrails

The road wound higher than I remembered, climbing through high hills with just enough guardrail to suggest safety. On one side, forested hills stretched into layers of green and shadow. On the other, a drop, sharp and unforgiving, reminded me of gravity’s patience. Above it all, a clear sky stretched like a promise.

Memoir Fragment #008: While the Cottage Slept

Coffee in one hand, edits in the other, the rest of the cottage still asleep.

Transmission #007: Red Marks & Heatwaves

Proof copy in hand. Red pen out. Beta readers circling. This book’s a risky one, fractured timelines, testimonies, and media scraps stitched into a story I hope makes sense outside my skull.

Dispatch #006: Chapter One, Take Two

Hit a wall, and tore it down. After finalizing layout and hitting the halfway point in edits for Pejorative, I circled back to Chapter One and knew it had to go.

Transmission #005: Between Edits and Empires

Dispatch #004: Signal Received, Doubt Pending

Dispatch #003: Smoke, Slogans, and the Signal Beneath

Memoir Fragment #002: Fall-in-May, Discipline-in-Chaos

May dressed up as November. Damp chill, grey skies, and the scent of fall. I stayed knee-deep in Chapter 20 edits while coffee pulled double duty, fuel and hand warmer. The world spun loud, but I stayed quiet. Some weeks, discipline isn’t loud. It’s just the act of showing up. One page. One fix. One sentence straighter than the last.

Chronicle #001: Fog Over the Week – Dispatches from the Threshold

Somewhere in the blur between code and fiction, I launched something small but personal: a direct storefront for my books. No noise, no gatekeepers, just my work, finally on my terms.