Marion Agnew

Hi, everyone, it's March. And still 2025. I felt the need to point that out because the months take forever and fly by at the same time.  Not a recent photo, but a fair representation of what today looks like A reminder: on Wednesday, March 12, I'm reading in the Brockton Writers Series . If you're in the greater Toronto Area, head to the Glad Day Bookshop, 499 Church Street. If you aren't, you can watch on their YouTube channel, here :  Brockton Writers Series - YouTube    In addition to the other readers, the evening will feature Asifa Sheikh speaking about Playing with Form in Nonfiction, an always-fascinating topic. Although I tend to default to the standard linear narrative, I've braided narratives and am striking out into other ways to spread my wings.  I'm excited to be part of this event. Participating is one way to remind myself that yes, I've written books and I have spoken to people about them and about writing. I've hung out in the company of...

Here are five things I'd like to remember from February. Not all pleasant, but notable. One. Sometimes it’s worth going into rooms you don’t go into often, just to make sure there’s no dead bird lying in the floor. It apparently fell down the chimney of a long-unused woodstove. I mean, if it had actually happened, which it did, hypothetically. And I guess come spring it’s worth looking into what happened to the screen over that chimney. Roy says it was an owl. I didn’t look too closely. Two. There may come a day when I don’t enjoy shoveling snow—and for sure if I had to do it more often and for longer sessions than I do, I’d be less enthusiastic—but there’s also something reassuring about accepting snowfall in SOME places (grass, trees, rocks, lake ice) but not HERE or HERE (sidewalk, back deck, front porch). Control, but really an illusion of it, because we all know that the snow’s really in charge here. Three. Two words: finishing sugar. I get it now. I don’t understand why pe...

I'll be appearing (from a distance) at the Brockton Writers Series on March 12! Along with other writers who will no doubt be there in person! Here's the basic info about the event: Wednesday, March 12, 2025 at 6:30 p.m. Brockton Writers Series presents readings by: Stephanie Cesca Ben Berman Ghan Anthony Oliveira Marion Agnew Our event will be hosted in person at the Glad Day Bookshop, located at 499 Church St., Toronto. We will also live stream the event on the  Brockton Writers Series YouTube channel ! The event starts at  6:30  p.m. The reading is PWYC and features a Q&A with the writers afterward. I wish I could be there in person, but I'm grateful to their dedication to include non-Toronto writers!  And here's a link to a post on their blog from me, in which I answer interview questions no one has asked . I encourage you to read the other blog posts, too--so fun to hear from other writers in advance! 

Back in the Days of Yore (pre-lockdowns—actually, more than a decade ago, wow, what even is time) I’d periodically get four-hour coffees with a specific writer-friend who is also a musician.   One of the questions we’d mull over is “What is the writer equivalent of scales?” Another was its related idea, “What is a practice session for writers?”   Obviously, the questions don’t have a 1:1 answer. Musicians perform, and although writers can perform also, it’s rarer. Perhaps. For me, anyway. As a writer of things on paper (vs. writing works for performance), I don’t focus on a performance element of my work, though I’ve grown to enjoy the more performative opportunities for readings and conversations. An accident, but I like it!   But! Back to a scale—a form that musicians can practice to gain muscle memory and general mastery.   For me, the equivalent is a daily writing practice. My practice varies, in terms of form, result, and effectiveness (and even ...

I’ve seen several references to the practice of writing “five things” in various places, but I most recently saw it in Medea Lee Patel’s Substack, Dear Somebody. She logs and five things each week! That’s ambitious.   So here are five things I want to remember from January, 2025.   One. Narratives still have the power to settle my brain. I was grateful to re-learn this after several fragmented days early in the month—days that included the mixed gratitude, reverence, and sorrow from the funeral of President Jimmy Carter. A story, a beginning middle end, whether it’s an episode of a cop or lawyer or medical show, a home renovation, a couple looking to Escape to the Country—that cycle brings things to a satisfying conclusion. My brain likes that, especially at 2 a.m.   Two. Speaking of death: from experiencing the death of several friends and acquaintances in the past six months, I’ve gained a new understanding of and appreciation for obituaries. How on eart...

I didn't celebrate the turn from 2024 to 2025 with champagne at midnight (or anything at midnight beyond snoozing). I'm not against traditional celebrations. They can be fun--I've been to several different kinds of parties and observations of the new year.  Yet some rituals of the new year are always available to me, and I find I'm observing and enjoying them. Paperblanks, ordered from my local bookstore,  along with a well-loved Filofax Folio. For example:  I’ve pulled out folders and written 2025 on them, moving the 2024 information to the “tax stuff” spot Making hard choices from among the plethora of opportunities, I’ve added some events to my calendar for January I’m writing in the new nice notebooks  We’re seeing Christmas cards in our mailbox, which is nice—since the postal strike ended, we’ve received mostly junk, and that’s not nearly as fun I’ve watched (several times a brief video (or several) of someone painting with watercolours That last one is less abo...

Earlier this year I mentioned my gratitude practice, explained (more or less) how it works (more or less), and shared some of the recent specific things that had appeared on my gratitude list at that time.   Six months later, it’s time for more gratitudes. At present, I’m grateful for many of the big-picture items I mentioned in June, plus these specifics, in no particular order: Enough snow that our well is not frozen and may hold its own when spring arrives Life in the country, where we marvel at small birds at the feeder and big birds in the sky, and we watch deer grow from fawns to adulthood People who drive the speed limit (or slower!) in neighbourhoods when they’re driving on ice, even if they’re driving a ginormous truck and think they don’t have to slow down; I doubt that they’re doing it to keep from frightening walkers but that’s a happy side effect Our local bookstore, Entershine Bookshop, which has become an integral part of the local writing and reading community ...