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LATE SEPTEMBER
out now
Late September is an intimate queer coming-of-age tale exploring the nuances of love, trauma and mental health. A compelling literary fiction pick for readers of Heather O’Neill and Zoe Whittall.
In the summer of 2000, Ines, a grief-stricken skateboarder beginning to explore her sexuality, leaves behind her sheltered hometown on a Greyhound bus bound for Montreal. In awe of the city’s vibrancy, and armed with a journal and a Discman, Ines sets out to find a new way, befriending April, a latex-loving goth who gets her a job as a cam-girl. In the midst of a bar fight Ines meets Max, a magnetic skateboarder, whom she quickly falls for.
As summer fades to fall Ines tries to uphold the bliss of their intoxicating summer, realizing that while she has escaped the confines of her small-town life, she cannot escape her past. The city changes and their romance darkens as Ines learns that Max is experiencing mental health challenges, all while a regular at the cam studio gets threateningly close. Ines learns that loving herself first requires trial and error—and that love is not always an innocent word.
ISLANDS SHORT FICTION REVIEW 2023
2ND PLACE
This short 2000 word story is about a jaded probation officer and her relationship to substances, flipping how often we criminalize drug-use, only when it happens in public. This story addresses that, as people, all want the same things despite varying socio-economic statuses.
VILOMAH
Portal Magazine
This short 1000 word story about the non-linear aspects of grief can be read by purchasing a copy of, or a subscription to the magazine.
POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION DURING A PANDEMIC
MUTHA Magazine
The house is living and breathing
windows lifting curtains let old air out.
An air between seasons.
Her body is living and breathing
open organs stretching in the pain of new mother love.
A hurt between the moments of joy...Click the photo to read more.
HOW MY 'FUR BABY' BECAME A POSTPARTUM SUPPORT
GLOBE AND MAIL first person
Our “first born” is a dog. A Boston terrier named Sergeant Pepper. He was the runt of the litter with floppy ears and an expression of cute longing. Angelic, tender and sensitive, he grew anxious and broke out of his crate to eat the walls when we weren’t home. Pepper eventually matured and became watchful, intelligent even. We coddled him and doted on his every need...click photo to keep reading.
WHEN CAN I TELL THE WORLD HOW LONELY I AM?
MUTHA Magazine
Exploring real-life motherhood, from every angle, at every stage.
Another month passed unsuccessfully and the amaryllis bent and withered. It’s been four years in a row that he bought me one before Christmas. It flourished like a white winter lily, but with more delicate folds and creases, that then reminded me of my vulva, somehow aging before my eyes, but still beautiful. Before my days with him, I didn’t even know what an amaryllis was. Now a tradition that felt like a peace offering. Another thing that I couldn’t keep alive and would throw away...Click photo to keep reading.
