Or just one, really. The infected one. Yes, the raw throat I developed on tour developed into a sneaky cold, then a hugely painful earache that was the harbinger of my current misery: an ear infection. What am I, four years old? Feels like it. Nothing like an earache to make you cry for your…

Voice is one of those things you have to find as a writer. Find your own voice, find the voice of your characters, the voice of your story. All that feels easy in comparison to preserving my voice on tour. The first night of my southern Ontario book tour was raucous and fun, and I…

I grew up in a part of Mississauga known broadly as Clarkson, Sheridan Homelands on a more granular level. (Now that I’m an adult with critical thinking skills and an awareness of Idle No More, I am mortified that those Homelands are rightly the homelands of the Mississaugas of the New Credit First Nation, and…