Writer's Digestion

Every child matters. This is a special week among Canadians, that represents the anniversary of a day the government encouraged and committed to model an increased awareness of pain, and wrongs that were committed to our First Nations (as well as Inuit and Métis). They have named September 30th as Truth and Reconciliation Day . As invited by the First Nations in my own community, I wish to honour their desire to be seen and better understood, to not leave them alone in facing the harsh truths of their shared trauma, and the perpetual injustice they have and do experience.  It was shocking to me, to learn that about 70% of the homeless in Canada are First Nation; Whereas, the First Nations People make up only 4.5% of the total population of Canada. Suicide rates are three times greater for the indigenous of Canada, than for Canadians of settler ethnicity.  “We don’t just need sympathy, we need empathy,” a young First Nations members shared at a fireside I attended last night on this v

 "A wise man will hear...fools despise wisdom and discipline." - Proverbs 1:5 & 7 Something exciting going on in my life right now is I'm working on a fantasy novel. It's a story that's been in my head for years, but I'm finally getting it out in the written form. Working with a developmental editor for the first time, I am grateful for my ability to heed criticism. Hillary Clinton said this: "Take criticism seriously, but not personally." Joseph Smith, a great religious leader in my church who accomplished much, made mistakes, and has received literally volumes of praise and volumes of criticism, said something like this, "Whenever someone speaks ill of me, I think: 'Is there anything I have done that might give them good reason to say that?' And then I vow, never to do it again." Whether you're Joseph Smith or Hillary Clinton, anyone who wants to grow is going to take criticism.  In writing my book, getting that first edi

I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you. - The Alchemist I am happily married and deeply in love, but being on vacation, in the summer, reminds me of summers of love in years gone by. Okay, actually most of those ‘summers of love’ were only in my head in the first place.  Growing up, driving around to different places around US and Canada, with my family, I’d frequently fantasize about being the quintessential Danny to a bombshell Sandy, in my very own ( Grease ) summer-love musical! However, in my heart, I truly never was one for a ‘fling.’ The one time I did have a summer fling, well, it was by accident (I was informed at the end it was a fling by the girl breaking up with me—I never used that word, myself; it’s always been “the real deal” with me, even if it wasn’t). In his autobiography, my grandfather relates a story from his childhood about walking miles to another grade school, with the intention of connecting with a girl he had a crush on. He never