Stephanie Domet

I’ve been reading The Crooked Heart of Mercy by Billie Livingston lately and it is slaying me with its economy and energy. Such tidy sentences that describe such unruly human emotion. I love writers who can make it seem so effortless, and Livingstone is definitely one of those. The book is about terrible grief and…

Last week was all about learning. Every minute of every day, it seemed, was stuffed with one assignment or another, for a bunch of various employers. In order to complete the assignments I had to learn new skills and technologies, and figure my way through them on my own. It was challenging, but totally rewarding.…

We don’t do Valentine’s Day, my spouse and me. Too…stupid. We have never needed any special day on which to shower each other with love. If anything, we could use a Tone It Down Already, Would Ya Day. But there is a day in February we mark each year. It’s February 20. We call it…

I seem to have fetched up in the midst of a super-busy week. I’m making my first-ever podcast item for TGIM, using field recording muscles I haven’t flexed in a long time, and mixing muscles I haven’t flexed in even longer. So there’s some trial and error, teaching myself Garage Band, Zencastr, iQ5 recording. There’s…

Earlier this week I went to Moncton to help my in-laws move from the house in which they’ve lived for more than thirty years into a spiffy new condo where they still have lots of space, yet won’t have to shovel the thirty centimetres of snow expected to fall there today. I spent Monday, Tuesday…

It has been challenging to move from a life that was clearly defined by the clock, with daily and hourly deadlines that were immutable, and an in person team that was constantly communicating what I needed to be doing at any given moment. In that life, I knew everything about the deepest inner workings of…

And just like that, the final night of the writers’ retreat is upon us. We’ve made our final fire in the fireplace. I made a big pot of veggie curry and it’s simmering on the stove, rice cooking alongside. I have a bit of whiskey and a bit of white wine, and we’re down to…

One of my rules for writing a novel is: stay home. Don’t go anywhere interesting to write, because mostly you will just explore the new place and not so much with the writing. And here I am, breaking one of my own rules, on the first Monday of the rest of my life. I’m at…

I can’t say for sure what my “new life” is like, because I’ve mostly been on vacation since my “old life” wrapped up. But I can say with confidence that there’s no way my old life would have afforded me a three-week break at Christmas. So I guess that’s an indication. I can say I…

Six months ago, I walked to work one morning. It’s a thirty-five minute walk from my house to the CBC. I walked and I thought. The book I am writing was tugging on my sleeve. The view from my garden was playing on my mind. A hundred tasks I’d put aside were nagging my to-do…