STORYWORLD

You hear that song everywhere. Tinkling in the background as you fight your way through throngs of holiday shoppers laden with bags of fuzzy socks, foaming bath balls, and pricey charm bracelets. When you comb the racks for that last minute 70% off Christmas Home Decor even though you don't need that one more Santa on skis or that cute laughing snowman or that set of plastic antlers that would look great as a centrepiece trimmed with tea lights and ivy. It's infiltrated the drug store, so you can register it even with blocked up ears when you're hawking unmentionable substances into a kleenex as you load your basket with cough syrup, Tylenol and camomile tea. The Forks Market, Winnipeg It's that song everyone knows but has learned to ignore - a form of Yuletide white noise. It's Walking in a Winter Wonderland! Written in 1934 by Felix Bernard and Richard B. Smith, this classic "Christmas Song" been recorded by over 200 different artists from Clay

Sorry for the delay in blog posts. I was away in Europe last month, travelling through Italy. Though I loved the ancient grandeur of Rome, I have to say I fell in love with the less touristy south. In the towns and villages of Calabria you get a much more authentic Italian experience and you're not jostling with crowds of thronging tourists all vying to take the best selfie in front of some iconic statue or monument. Here's a list of my favourite things about Italy: COFFEE - whether it's espresso, cappuccino or latte - it's always rich, delightful and best way to drink it is standing up at the counter of some gorgeous pastry or gelato shop. EVENING SHOPPING - in the Southern towns, the shopping centres are pretty dead during the day but at night it's like a carnival. Everyone's out, dressed in their finest. From oldest to youngest they come out to shop, eat gelato, grab an evening meal or drink coffee on outdoor patios. It's a wonderful, festiv

How do you say goodbye to a house? When you've created and shared so many memories within its walls, it's hard just to close the door and turn your back. We recently moved out of the house we'd lived in for the past fifteen years and after a horrendous week clearing out all the furniture, knick-knacks, keepsakes and junk a family accumulates in that length of time, I wandered around the empty rooms and remembered. My son studying for hours on end at his desk to earn his bachelor's and Master's degrees and the many photos and keepsakes that celebrated all his volunteer and political work. My daughter sketching her first clothing designs at her drafting table under the bedroom window and the curving staircase she walked down in her grad gown and her wedding gown. The living room, dining room and family room where we celebrated birthdays, graduations, engagements, special holidays and get-togethers with friends and family.  The deep bay window that was a per

In Virginia Woolf's extended essay, A Room of One's Own, she poses the idea that a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction. In Woolf's day this was absolutely true since women had very little they could truly call their own, including time to pursue their own interests or even be an individual separate and distinct from their spouse or children. Nowadays, things may be different. It's true that having money or another source of income gives one the time and freedom to write. That's why so many writers have to wait until they retire from other day jobs in order to have enough time and headspace to write fiction. But having  a room of one's own might be highly overrated.  Maybe some writers are spoiled for space or just maybe the way we write and the milieu in which we need to do it have drastically changed. I recently went to a reading by the prolific Scandinavian noir crime writer, Jo Nesbo, who was promoting his latest

BAMBURGH CASTLE:  " King Ida's castle, huge and square," I just finished working on a very harrowing novel that dealt with some tough social issues so, while I let that book sit for a few weeks before I make final revisions, I like to move away from harsh reality and step back in time to the magical world of imagination and myth. I'm working on a Middle Grade/Young Adult novel set within the rich folklore and mythology of North Eastern England, my birthplace. I was inspired by a quote from a book written in the early 19th century by Walter White who travelled through Northumbria and the borders. He visited the remote Farne Islands and quotes the words of a 7th century contemporary of St. Cuthbert's: In the northernmost reaches of England, near the wild Northumbrian coastal islands we encountered the Farne Devils. Clad in cowls, and riding upon goats, black in complexion, short in stature,
 their countenances most hideous, their heads long - the appearance 


I've finally made a vow to keep going with my morning walk schedule regardless of the winter weather outside. And despite the challenges of walking outside at temperatures of -22C and lower, I've discovered snow walking can be fun, beneficial and incredibly beautiful. It takes twice as long to dress up for the weather with extra leggings, thermal socks, snow boots, wooly hat, scarf, parka, hood and thick mitts, but I have this theory that plunging through the park or climbing a snow hill dressed like a yeti, burns at least three times the usual calories for a walk. The only trouble is that we've also been experiencing some higher than normal temperatures more recently and that means the snow turns to ice which then makes it feel like you're walking on an ice rink. For many writers, a quiet walk outdoors is the best way to think of new ideas and sort out plot problems, and winter has a certain sleepy, silent magic about it that seems more inspirational t