Five Years a Writer

Amanda speaking at the mic Photo shared with permission:  Mikaela MacKenzie / Winnipeg Free Press Writing in the third person is an interesting exercise; using she, he or they when writing about ourself can be immensely freeing and can tease out a story that, when considered from the first person "I" perspective, just cannot find purchase in words.  The micro story  "Marked from birth" (below) , written a couple of years ago, found its way onto the page only once I switched from "I" to "she". The rest of today's post, which I felt quite fine writing from the "I" perspective, was sparked by the photo above that appeared a couple of weeks ago in the local paper. I was not expecting to see it, but when I did see it and then really looked at it,  I did so without inhibition and with some good degree of joy.  The whole of today's post is maybe greater than the sum of its parts, or maybe not. I am not sure. All I know is that I have h...

The Crown of Bitter Root Book 2 of the  IGGY'S VOYAGE  trilogy science taught Iggy to ask questions -- magic taught her to believe a novel for  middle-grade-age readers by Ani Birch Publisher: Resource Publications, an imprint of Wipf and Stock (Oregon) Release date: March 13, 2026 Review by Amanda Le Rougetel Iggy continues to be a thoroughly intriguing character in this second story of her adventures (and misadventures) in the far-away land of Mystral. An ordinary girl, she struggles with the mysterious magical powers that she seems to have inherited. She continues to rely on Oona, the flying dragon, and Quinn, the adorable puppy, for much-needed companionship, and she is still trying to figure things out with her dad and her grandmother. Can she trust either of them? Can her dad make it safely back from the dark side? Is her mind-reading grandmother good or is she evil? Poor Iggy. So much for this brave ten-year-old to figure out. “Don’t repeat your ancestors’ mistakes...

This week, a tiny story arising from some deep thoughts that came to me one morning recently as I looked around the house filled with so many things so important to me. Really? Important? Or just habit?  One day, one day soon, maybe, I'll test my resolve to sort, chuck, donate.  One day.  Maybe soon...  Maybe... Hope lives in a tiny house With less space to lose herself in, she wondered whether she might inhabit her life more. Day after day, she watched the sun rise, drank coffee from the same mug, wore the same clothes and, slowly, discovered that living small was enlarging her sense of self, of wonder, of peace. ............................................................................................................................................ To receive my weekly blogpost in your inbox, use the SUBSCRIBE feature (above, in the left-hand column), or email   fiveyearsawriter at gmail dot com .  Put SUBSCRIBE in the subject line.   Land acknowle...

Annie started out cycling in her long skirt (below), but ditched it once she was introduced to the new-fangled and much more practical bloomers.  Very soon I will get out my bicycle, hop on it wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and ride it for the sheer fun of pedalling my way through the summer weather (dear God, please send us true summer weather soon). With each pedal push, I will be thinking of Annie Londonderry — the first woman to bicycle around the world. In 1894! I didn’t know of her until I watched her story unfold on a Winnipeg theatre stage last Thursday afternoon in the wonderfully entertaining musical “Ride”, which I had seen advertised on an old fashioned poster on a hydro pole in my neighbourhood. First, let’s hear it for old fashioned posters as a way to advertise something. And second, join me in cheering for Annie, who was nothing if not audacious. Imagine, a woman in long skirts, on a bike, travelling solo (with a pearl-handled pistol in her purse) from June 1894 to S...

Anne, with cat and my older sister, circa 1959 When it’s gone, it’s over: a riff on “What I want back is what I was” Whe n my mother died two years ago today, it was not sad. Well, that’s not true. Anne: April 2024 It was very sad to be saying a final goodbye to the woman who gave me life and shaped my life with her own. But, while holding her hand as she passed on, I knew our time together on this plane was well past done. Not because of anything between us but because of the state of her body — a body that had carried her well for more than 90 years, but a body that now at 95 and a half years of age was done. It no longer could do its job. We cannot live one without the other — spirit and soul without a body. Well, that’s not true, some would say. Spirits remain and can be felt, some would say. I like that idea, but I have no personal experience of such things. My focus here is on the body that carries us, because, by her end, my mother’s body was broken. No longer able to carry her ...

“Art is r(e)ad ”...  make art/make sense    by ALeR March 2026 ONE TRUE STORY TOLD IN THREE DIFFERENT VOICES   Voice 1: “Just the facts” cool   I collaged a tray. I donated it for a good cause. Someone bought it.   Voice 2: Quiet and disbelieving I wanted to see all the donated art pieces, to experience the fundraising event, and to bid on a piece or two myself. I couldn’t attend the opening on Friday evening or the first day of bidding on Saturday, so it wasn’t until Sunday that I got there. A bit late, but there.   At about 3 pm, I climbed the steep stairs to the women’s arts organization hosting the fundraising event , and made my way into the main room that was jam packed with people, leaving barely enough space to thread my way through. As I moved slowly through the crowd, I took in the art on   display all over the walls. So much art, such variety — some by professional artists, some by emerging artists. Each piece had a related sheet on whi...