Fiction

Category: Fiction

How could I have written and seen the publication of 99 books? I ask myself that question and it does seem odd. After all, I didn’t have a book published until I was, um, 29. So, if my math is correct, all were written in the brief space of 39 years. That’s an average of 2.5384615 per year according to my calculator.

Just for the record, I believe I have at least six or seven that I wrote but (perhaps for the best) never found a publisher. And, of course, I have a few more upcoming projects in the works, as should any writer who loves the job of sitting down and writing.

Hello Canada, Publishing a first book takes a long time. It was over a year ago that Dundurn accepted Evie of the Deepthorn for publication, a figure that doesn’t include years of writing, revising, and submitting, and we still aren’t quite there yet. As I write this, the upcoming release seems both too soon and too far away, like getting there requires a leap of incredible faith. In some ways I feel as if I’m Achilles shooting an arrow towards a target in one of Zeno’s famous paradoxes, watching the arrow halve the distance endlessly, never quite advancing. But I know that one day—and soon—the arrow will inevitably hit its mark, the book will be released, it will find its audience, and I’ll feel that strange mixture of excitement, relief, and disappointment that comes with hitting a major milestone and inevitably wondering—when you’re allowed a minute to breathe—what comes next.

Hello Canada,

 

I wanted to be a fairy warrior princess when I grew up. My friends and I spent our recesses writing stories and acting out adventures: rescuing princes from evil wizards, practicing archery on horseback, attending balls to spy on a villainous lord.

I used to play dress up in long velvet gowns. I still do that, sometimes, but to be honest I think I look better in my black button-up shirt and floral-print bowtie. Gender is like that for me—dress up. It can be a lot of fun.

Hello Canada,

My name is Brenden Carlson, and I am publishing my first novel, Night Call, in June of 2020. It has been an incredible journey going from amateur writer to nearly published author, and it all began in 2008, when my parents accidentally bought me the wrong book.

Hello Canada,

 

Is 2020 the right time to publish a Bigfoot murder mystery? Is there ever a wrong time?

 

Roanoke Ridge: A Creature X Mystery was born out of that basic desire to understand one's world and what exists beyond our comfort zones. As a species, we love mysteries because the unknown represents chaos and we are driven to seek resolutions. Often, however, we choose the easiest solution to comprehend, not necessarily the correct one. It's because of this that I wanted to incorporate scientific skepticism into a murder mystery series.

Hello Canada,

 

I couldn’t be more thrilled to introduce myself and my series of novels featuring Victor Lessard, a detective sergeant at the Major Crimes Unit of the Montreal police. With Never Forget, the first release, you will follow Victor and his partner Jacinthe Taillon as they track down a ruthless killer. As you will see, it is a dark, twisted, action-packed, emotionally dense, heart-pounding thriller…

Hello Canada,

 

It’s the year 2020. How lucky am I to be ringing in a new decade with the launch of my debut book? Finally, the gruelling work has paid off—the late nights, the early mornings, the countless hours spent toiling in solitude.

See that red blinking arrow pointing at me? It says: “This way to Easy Street. You’ve made it, baby!”

Hello Canada,

 

My novel, A Strange Kind of Comfort, was accepted by Dundurn Press in October 2018. As a first-time author, I was thrilled, yet I soon had doubts about what I’d gotten myself into. Did I really want my words and thoughts out in the world for everyone to ponder, analyze, and criticize? But I told myself I was finally fulfilling a life-long dream and I settled into the awesome journey, learning about publication with the incredible editors and staff at Dundurn.  

Red Oblivion Blog

Four years ago, my husband, Chris Wong, and I were awoken by a phone call in the wee hours of the morning. It was his father’s housekeeper calling from Hong Kong, in a panic, to say Chris’s father had keeled over and been rushed to hospital and into surgery. Chris, his sister, and I caught the first flight from Toronto to Hong Kong. So began a very stressful period, as we watched this formidable, self-made man — still intimidating at age ninety-four — fight to hang on while in a state of protracted decline.

 

Andre Babyn Nanowrimo Blog

For me the hardest part about writing literary fiction is having something to work with. Once you have a full draft it’s only a matter of time before it becomes what it is. But building out that first draft, in the face of everything that it could be, that it will not be, that you want it to be—that’s difficult.

 

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