Wednesday, May 06, 2026

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Diedre J. Halbot

Diedre J. Halbot is a writer, essayist, and horror enthusiast from Newfoundland and Labrador. She was raised in the Bay of Islands, where her family is from, and now resides in Bay St. George South. The people and places of her youth have been a constant source of inspiration and motivation for her work and she has a passion for sharing stories of her French-Indigenous heritage. She works in Environmental Science, and her hobbies include bullying politicians online, birdwatching, and trying to seem cool (and failing) around her teenage daughter. Little Spoons (Breakwater Books, 2026) is her first book.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?
Little Spoons is my first and only novel for now. Before writing it, I wrote screenplays and short stories. A novel is a very different beast in comparison; it takes much more time, planning, and editing. The process was challenging but incredibly enjoyable. I also feel that my perspective as a reader has changed as a result of writing my first book because I'm picking up on things I never considered before until I did it myself.

2 - How did you come to fiction first, as opposed to, say, poetry or non-fiction?
My favorite type of book to read is one that has an addictive quality, whether that be romance or thriller. I knew when I decided to write a book that I wanted to invoke that same feeling in my reader that I felt from my favorite books. That feeling where you tell yourself, "One more chapter," then the next thing you know, you've read the whole thing.  Fiction made sense for this reason.

3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?
Starting is easy; it's finishing that's the hard part. I consider myself a very creative person and I get my ideas through reading or lived experiences. As my ideas come to me I will either begin straight into writing or map them out, the process is incredibly quick. The issue I struggle with is execution and my own self-doubt. It's very normal for me to get halfway through a project, then decide to shelve it because I no longer enjoy how it's progressing. The first draft is exactly that, and there is still an opportunity to fine-tune it and change things, for this reason my first and final drafts are very different but that's comforting for me to remember. The hardest part is completing your first draft of any project.

4 - Where does a work of prose usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book" from the very beginning?

I know exactly what my goal is when I sit down to write, often taking time to map out the story so that it's paced well and has a good storyline. Sometimes though if an idea feels good, I'll just start writing then let my characters decide where they want to go.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

I really enjoy interacting with my community, meeting people and hearing their stories or feedback is very encouraging. Reading my own work isn't something I get much value from, however when I have discussions or answer questions with readers, I find that to be very productive.

6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think the current questions are?
I'm a simple gal and I like writing stories for the purpose of enjoyment. I appreciate literature that is introspective, inspirational or educational but I'm not writing to shift perspectives or anything. As a reader, I turn to books for comfort and enjoyment, as a writer I want to offer that escape to my reader. A book doesn't always need to be life-changing or challenge the way you think; sometimes, a book is just a thing you pick up because you want to shut your brain off and escape. That's what I want my writing to provide, an enjoyable escape.

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Do they even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?
Writing has always had a role in culture, I personally am a huge proponent of reading as I believe it helps to expand your ability to think critically, creatively and have a more enhanced worldview. Writers have the ability to introduce the reader to new thoughts, perspectives and circumstances, all of which helps an individual to become more well-rounded, and understanding.  The role of a writer is to be honest, even in fiction, to deliver to the reader something real which they can take with them into their own day-to-day lives.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
Working with an editor is absolutely essential. It's scary to share your work with someone and trust them, but as a writer, it's easy to get too invested in your story. An outside perspective is essential to fine-tuning the work.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
"Just do the thing." 

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (fiction to essays)? What do you see as the appeal?
Essays are challenging in their own way as you try to pack a lot of information into a short piece, and fiction is challenging as you attempt to pace the story in such a way to maintain attention without ending too early. The two have their own appeal, but jumping from one to the other is challenging as the writer's mindset needs to shift.

11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?
I personally refer to writing as my "Night job", I have a day job which keeps me busy. I am a heavily routine person so it never feels difficult or forced, when I was editing my book I would work til 4, exercise, eat, then write from 6-8 pm and maintain that schedule Monday to Friday. Treating writing like its a job ensures you show up, clock in and get your work done. This is the mentality that has worked for me.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
Books. I always find inspiration in books.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

I grew up on a farm in the Bay of Islands, so unfortunately, home smells like manure, dirt and dried salt fish.

14 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?
I've always been incredibly influenced by nature. I love how it shapes places and people; for this reason nature or landscapes are a common theme in my work.

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
I believe that stories come from experiences, but they don't necessarily need to be your own. It would be somewhat narcissistic to believe that I could write solely from my own life and expect others to be heard and seen. Meeting people and asking questions is a way that I am able to expand my worldview and create work that is more welcoming and understanding.

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?

I'd love to write a biography of someone inspirational to me. I've been interested in the idea of a biography of Emile Benoit, I love his work so much and he's the most iconic person from my home region. I love sharing stories, I feel he would have a really good one.

17 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?
I'm very happy with my career outside of writing; up until this point, writing has been a hobby, a creative outlet. If I never publish another book, I'd be ok with that, but I'll always enjoy writing.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
I like books :) 

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
The best book I've read lately has been Outlander by Diana Gabaldon. I was a huge fan of the show so after 8 seasons of watching it, I picked up the first novel. I will always champion that books make great film and television, the book always being the better of the two. 

20 - What are you currently working on?
A laptop.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

Tuesday, May 05, 2026

Spotlight series #121 : Hajer Mirwali

The one hundred and twenty-first (the tenth anniversary of this series!) in my monthly "spotlight" series, each featuring a different poet with a short statement and a new poem or two, is now online, featuring Toronto-based Palestinian and Iraqi writer Hajer Mirwali.

The first eleven in the series were attached to the Drunken Boat blog, and the series has so far featured poets including Seattle, Washington poet Sarah Mangold, Colborne, Ontario poet Gil McElroy, Vancouver poet Renée Sarojini Saklikar, Ottawa poet Jason Christie, Montreal poet and performer Kaie Kellough, Ottawa poet Amanda Earl, American poet Elizabeth Robinson, American poet Jennifer Kronovet, Ottawa poet Michael Dennis, Vancouver poet Sonnet L’Abbé, Montreal writer Sarah Burgoyne, Fredericton poet Joe Blades, American poet Genève Chao, Northampton MA poet Brittany Billmeyer-Finn, Oji-Cree, Two-Spirit/Indigiqueer from Peguis First Nation (Treaty 1 territory) poet, critic and editor Joshua Whitehead, American expat/Barcelona poet, editor and publisher Edward Smallfield, Kentucky poet Amelia Martens, Ottawa poet Pearl Pirie, Burlington, Ontario poet Sacha Archer, Washington DC poet Buck Downs, Toronto poet Shannon Bramer, Vancouver poet and editor Shazia Hafiz Ramji, Vancouver poet Geoffrey Nilson, Oakland, California poets and editors Rusty Morrison and Jamie Townsend, Ottawa poet and editor Manahil Bandukwala, Toronto poet and editor Dani Spinosa, Kingston writer and editor Trish Salah, Calgary poet, editor and publisher Kyle Flemmer, Vancouver poet Adrienne Gruber, California poet and editor Susanne Dyckman, Brooklyn poet-filmmaker Stephanie Gray, Vernon, BC poet Kerry Gilbert, South Carolina poet and translator Lindsay Turner, Vancouver poet and editor Adèle Barclay, Thorold, Ontario poet Franco Cortese, Ottawa poet Conyer Clayton, Lawrence, Kansas poet Megan Kaminski, Ottawa poet and fiction writer Frances Boyle, Ithica, NY poet, editor and publisher Marty Cain, New York City poet Amanda Deutch, Iranian-born and Toronto-based writer/translator Khashayar Mohammadi, Mendocino County writer, librarian, and a visual artist Melissa Eleftherion, Ottawa poet and editor Sarah MacDonell, Montreal poet Simina Banu, Canadian-born UK-based artist, writer, and practice-led researcher J. R. Carpenter, Toronto poet MLA Chernoff, Boise, Idaho poet and critic Martin Corless-Smith, Canadian poet and fiction writer Erin Emily Ann Vance, Toronto poet, editor and publisher Kate Siklosi, Fredericton poet Matthew Gwathmey, Canadian poet Peter Jaeger, Birmingham, Alabama poet and editor Alina Stefanescu, Waterloo, Ontario poet Chris Banks, Chicago poet and editor Carrie Olivia Adams, Vancouver poet and editor Danielle Lafrance, Toronto-based poet and literary critic Dale Martin Smith, American poet, scholar and book-maker Genevieve Kaplan, Toronto-based poet, editor and critic ryan fitzpatrick, American poet and editor Carleen Tibbetts, British Columbia poet nathan dueck, Tiohtiá:ke-based sick slick, poet/critic em/ilie kneifel, writer, translator and lecturer Mark Tardi, New Mexico poet Kōan Anne Brink, Winnipeg poet, editor and critic Melanie Dennis Unrau, Vancouver poet, editor and critic Stephen Collis, poet and social justice coach Aja Couchois Duncan, Colorado poet Sara Renee Marshall, Toronto writer Bahar Orang, Ottawa writer Matthew Firth, Victoria poet Saba Pakdel, Winnipeg poet Julian Day, Ottawa poet, writer and performer nina jane drystek, Comox BC poet Jamie Sharpe, Canadian visual artist and poet Laura Kerr, Quebec City-area poet and translator Simon Brown, Ottawa poet Jennifer Baker, Rwandese Canadian Brooklyn-based writer Victoria Mbabazi, Nova Scotia-based poet and facilitator Nanci Lee, Irish-American poet Nathanael O'Reilly, Canadian poet Tom Prime, Regina-based poet and translator Jérôme Melançon, New York-based poet Emmalea Russo, Toronto-based poet, editor and critic Eric Schmaltz, San Francisco poet Maw Shein Win, Toronto-based writer, playwright and editor Daniel Sarah Karasik, Ottawa poet and editor Dessa Bayrock, Mahone Bay, Nova Scotia poet Alice Burdick, poet, writer and editor Jade Wallace, San Francisco-based poet Jennifer Hasegawa, California poet Kyla Houbolt, Toronto poet and editor Emma Rhodes, Canadian-in-Iowa writer Jon Cone, Edmonton/Sicily-based poet, educator, translator, researcher, editor and publisher Adriana Oniță, California-based poet, scholar and teacher Monica Mody, Ottawa poet and editor AJ Dolman, Sudbury poet, critic and fiction writer Kim Fahner, Canadian poet Kemeny Babineau, Indiana poet Nate Logan, Toronto poet and editor Michael Boughn, North Georgia poet and editor Gale Marie Thompson, award-winning poet Ellen Chang-Richardson, Montreal-based poet, professor and scholar of feminist poetics, Jessi MacEachern, Toronto poet and physician Dr. Conor Mc Donnell, San Francisco poet Micah Ballard, Montreal poet Misha Solomon, Ottawa writer and editor Mahaila Smith, American poet and asemic artist Terri Witek, Ottawa-based freelance editor and writer Margo LaPierre, Ottawa poet Helen Robertson, Oakville poet Mandy Sandhu, New Westminster, British Columbia poet Christina Shah, poet, critic, curator and former publisher Geoffrey Young, Calgary poet Anna Veprinska, American expat poet in London Katie Ebbit, Brooklyn poet Nada Gordon, Kingston poet Jason Heroux, Vancouver poet Scott Inniss and Lethbridge-based Brazil-born poet Carlos A. Pittella!
 
The whole series can be found online here.

Monday, May 04, 2026

National Poetry Month 2026 : Chaudiere Books blog,

In case you weren't aware, I've been posting daily poems all April for National Poetry Month over at the Chaudiere Books blog by an array of poets from Canada and beyond, with the entire 2026 series now available online. This is the thirteenth year I've been curating poems for same, and you can catch links for the entire series over here

Here are the poets with new work posted for 2026: enjoy!

Maleea Acker ; Junie Désil ; Jordan Davis ; Cole Swensen ; Chris Johnson ; Catriona Strang ; Noah Sparrow ; Eve Luckring ; Conor Mc Donnell ; Stephen Brockwell ; Han VanderHart ; Rahat Kurd ; Nancy Huggett ; Emily Shafer ; Jon Cone ; Laura Farina ; Jen Tynes ; Jason Christie ; Jane Shi ; Jed Munson ; Pearl Pirie ; Michael Goodfellow ; Charlie Petch ; Daphne Marlatt ; Andy Weaver ; Jessi MacEachern ; Carla Harris ; Melissa Powless Day ; Zane Koss ;

Sunday, May 03, 2026

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Daniel Moysaenko

Daniel Moysaenko is a Ukrainian American poet, translator, and critic. His work has appeared in Chicago Review, Harvard Review, The Iowa Review, The Nation, Poetry, and The Poetry Review. He practices law and lives in Ohio’s Chagrin Valley.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?

I felt like I could breathe. It made me feel less delusional about my long commitment to and sacrifices for poetry. This more recent work is, for the first time, project-bound: being about the war in Ukraine. So it is more thematically cohesive as well as more direct and contextualized than my previous work, which not only arose from questions and silences but continued to dwell there, rather than moving onto higher ground.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?

I recited poems every week in Ukrainian school, which I attended from kindergarten through junior year of high school. And I read more poetry than anything else as a child. My brain more naturally gravitates toward the poetic line and its practice of attention, as opposed to plot or character development. The music, I think, first drew me into the poem, deeper and deeper until I found myself in a tunnel unlike the world created by fiction or non-fiction. Though I still read plenty of it, fiction was less of an interest—as a writer of things—compared to poetry when young, and that mostly stuck.

3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?

My work often originates as a collection of flotsam and jetsam, but goes through multiple forms, requiring months of accumulation, erasure, revision, and editing. I write discrete lines, or full stanzas with no anchor. Then I mull it all over, add to the existing lines or combine them. Or I write a long, sloppy ramble, which does not work at all, and I later slice it up. Occasionally, if lucky, a poem comes out whole without much effort and without needing much revision at all. Funnily, those turn out to be my favorites (though not always others’ favorites). So my writing is both quick and slow. Writing projects are going on at all times, at various stages of development, in the same way I have multiple books open for reading at once.

4 - Where does a poem usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book" from the very beginning?

A poem usually begins with an image for me. I tend to write short pieces that either stand alone or sidle up against other short pieces to become stanzas or sections of a serial poem. Over the years, I have noticed that having the concept of a “book” helps direct me, so that I am not casting around aimlessly for months or even years producing poems whose only relationship is that my ever-mutable mind wrote them.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

Orality is extremely important to the process. The poems’ sound is largely—twinned with image—my entry. If it doesn’t sound right, it’s gone. Public readings are a community-sustaining way of showing this to others. Though they take a lot out of me, I do enjoy giving readings, enacting the work and guiding readers’ through the way I hear the book.

6 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Do they even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?

I think it would be prudent if the role of the writer in the U.S. were cultural bellwether, counsel, attaché.

7 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?

I do not find working with an editor to be difficult, having spent more than a decade being workshopped and taking advice from editors. I really value them. Outside suggestions or queries are useful as quick correctives for a problem I had missed, or as opportunities to rethink a decision and either reapproach that crux or reaffirm my underlying reasoning. All of that, I think, strengthens the work.

8 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to translation to critical prose)? What do you see as the appeal?

It has been a natural state for me to move among poetry, translation, critical work, and fiction. I may spend months or years focused on one or two, toggling between them, and then find myself drained. Other genres rush in to fill the space left and reinvigorate me. Translation, especially, recharges the mind for my own poems. There, you are both creating and kneeling at the mercy of existing language, balancing between fidelity and estrangement, mimicry and imagination, domestication and foreignization, to mold a poem in English that does to an English speaker what the original did to readers of that language. Switching modes feels like stepping out of an airport in the tropics and taking off your parka. So I never have writers’ block per se. There’s always some other kind of writing I could be doing if one type is coming up dry. And the genres necessarily challenge one another. Is this really a narrative poem or a story that hasn’t been completed? What form best serves this idea? What can this form do that the others cannot?

9 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?

With a “9-5” job, I write when I can: a snippet in the early morning, something after dinner, a few hours on the weekend. The trick for me has been to keep the mind engaged with the literary, with the way a poet attends to the world, at least for a few dedicated moments every day; that may not be actual writing, but it keeps the writer in my mind alive.

10 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?

I turn to international writers to pull me out of the milieu and habits of U.S. literature.

11 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

Geranium, river clay, lilac, pipe tobacco.

12 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?

Many forms influence my poems: nature’s patterns and morality, visual art’s clarity and invention, architecture’s stories, the way music moves structurally and emotionally.

13 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?

Here is an incomplete list of poets: George Oppen, Etel Adnan, Paul Celan, Tomas Tranströmer, W.S. Merwin, Alejandra Pizarnik, Amelia Rosselli, Wallace Stevens, Serhiy Zhadan, Wisława Szymborska, Franz Wright, Jack Gilbert, Jean Valentine, Mark Strand, Yannis Ritsos, Rosmarie Waldrop, Chika Sagawa, Anne Carson, Nathaniel Mackey, John Ashbery, James Tate, Louise Glück, Cole Swensen, M. NourbeSe Philip, Susan Howe.

14 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?

I’d like to learn how to grow grapes and make wine. I’d like to learn a few more languages. I’d like to build a cabin. I’d like to write a book that requires me to change my life in some manner in order to write it.

15 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?

I might have stuck with music and pushed past the, at times, frustrating drudgery of going over a bar again and again. Or I may have more seriously pursued astrophysics or psychology, when professors in college offered opportunities to work in their labs and I chose poetry instead—which seemed to encompass every discipline plus the intangible.

16 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

I just found myself writing (as transcription, transfiguration, exorcism, reclamation). It was the one thing I compulsively did that would make an entire day go by, quickly, with joy, absorbed in the practice.

17 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

I am late to these, but nevertheless: Austerlitz, W.G. Sebald; Casting Deep Shade, C.D. Wright. 

18 - What are you currently working on?

I am revising a novel I began in late 2014, set in New England, which I workshopped with Noy Holland. And I am developing a second novel that charts a Ukrainian family’s journey from World War I through the Cold War. Also, I am polishing a third poetry collection largely written during the pandemic about what it means to tend, to take care of the earth, loved ones, yourself, and those who do not want the help you are able to give.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

 

Saturday, May 02, 2026

new from above/ground press: Zhang, Yeager/Burgoyne, Rudy, Harder, Solomon, Bolster, Baker + mclennan, The Peter F Yacht Club #36 + Touch the Donkey #49,

; My Little Sister, Elena Zhang $6 ; TAKE COVER, EVERYONE, Clara Yeager and Sarah Burgoyne $6 ; Touch the Donkey [a small poetry journal] #49 : new work by Joel Chace, Andrew Brenza, Jake Kennedy, Hannah Brooks-Motl, Salem Paige, MA│DE and Sara Gilmore $8 ; Consequences, Susan Rudy [prose/naut #33] $6 ; pinion, Shelly Harder $6 ; Misha Solomon’s BIODÔME: A Bestiary after Stephanie Bolster, Misha Solomon $6 ; BIODÔME: Twentieth Anniversary Edition, Stephanie Bolster; with an introduction by Misha Solomon and new afterword by the author $6 ; The Peter F Yacht Club #36 : 2026 VERSeFest Special, with Gwen Aube, Frances Boyle, Melissa Powless Day, Michelle Desbarats, Amanda Earl, Lucia Farinon, Jen Jakob, Sneha Subramanian Kanta, Margo LaPierre, T Liem, D.A. Lockhart, Karen Massey, Emma McKenna, rob mclennan, Pearl Pirie, Claudia Coutu Radmore, Monty Reid, Declan Ryan, Robyn Sarah, Misha Solomon, Grant Wilkins, Lydia Unsworth + Jumoke Verissimo $6 ; Wee Walk, Jennifer Baker $6 ; Origin stories, rob mclennan $6 ; 

published in Ottawa by above/ground press
March-April 2026
a/g subscribers receive a complimentary copy of each

To order, send cheques (add $2 for postage; in US, add $3; outside North America, add $7) to: rob mclennan, 2423 Alta Vista Drive, Ottawa ON K1H 7M9. E-transfer or PayPal at at rob_mclennan (at) hotmail.com or the PayPal button (above). See the prior list of recent titles here, scroll down here to see a further list of various backlist titles, or click on any of the extensive list of names on the sidebar (many, many things are still in print).

keep an eye on the above/ground press blog for author interviews, new writing, reviews, upcoming readings and tons of other material; and you know above/ground press has a substack now? sign up (for free!) for announcements, and even new features! catch recent/forthcoming interviews with Misha Solomon, John Levy, Shelly Harder, Sarah Burgoyne, ryan fitzpatrick, J.R. Carpenter, Travis Sharp, Jon Cone etc.

With forthcoming chapbooks by: Jon Cone, Mrityunjay Mohan, Dag T. Straumsvåg, Stuart Ross and Jason Camlot, rob mclennan, Fred Wah, J.R. Carpenter, Daphne Marlatt, ryan fitzpatrick, David Phillips and probably others! (yes: others,

AND 2026 SUBSCRIPTIONS ARE STILL AVAILABLE
(but you probably already know that,

Friday, May 01, 2026

the ottawa small press book fair, spring 2026 edition: June 20, 2026

span-o (the small press action network - ottawa) presents:

   

 the ottawa
    small press
    book fair

spring 2026 :
will be held on Saturday, June 20, 2026 in the Main Hall of the Glebe Community Centre, 175 Third Avenue (at Lyon St. S),
[note new location: Tom Brown closed for renovations!]


“once upon a time, way way back in October 1994, rob mclennan and James Spyker invented a two-day event called the ottawa small press book fair, and held the first one at the National Archives of Canada...” Spyker moved to Toronto soon after our original event, but the fair continues, thanks in part to the help of generous volunteers, various writers and publishers, and the public for coming out to participate with alla their love and their dollars.

General info:
the ottawa small press book fair
noon to 5pm (opens at 11am for exhibitors)

admission free to the public.

$25 for exhibitors, full tables
$12.50 for half-tables

(payable to rob mclennan, c/o 2423 Alta Vista Drive, Ottawa ON K1H 7M9; paypal options also available

Note: due to demand, we offer half as well as full tables (because not everyone needs a full table, and this allows more exhibitors to participate). this fair will also have fewer table spots than recent fairs, so be aware that this will limit author space more than usual,

To be included in the exhibitor catalogue:
 please include name of press, address, email, web address, contact person, type of publications, list of publications (with price), if submissions are being considered and any other pertinent info, including upcoming Ottawa-area events (if any). Be sure to send by June 6th if you would like to appear in the exhibitor catalogue.

And hopefully we can still do the pre-fair reading as well! details TBA
: and we're on Bsky now! that's exciting, yes? follow us!

BE AWARE: 
given that the spring 2013 was the first to reach capacity (forcing me to say no to at least half a dozen exhibitors), the fair can’t (unfortunately) fit everyone who wishes to participate. The fair is roughly first-come, first-served, although preference will be given to small (literary) publishers over self-published authors (being a “small press fair,” after all).

The fair usually contains exhibitors with poetry books, novels, cookbooks, posters, t-shirts, graphic novels, comic books, magazines, scraps of paper, gum-ball machines with poems, 2x4s with text, etc, including regular appearances by exhibitors including: above/ground press ; Anvil Press / A FEED DOG BOOK ; Apt. 9 Press ; Arc Poetry Magazine ; Manahil Bandukwala ; battleaxe press ; Jessica Bebenek ; Book*hug Press ; Bird Lips Zine ; The BumblePuppy Press ; Bywords ; Dave Cooper ; CreateSpace ; Amanda EarlElliott Dunstan ; equitableEducation.ca ; Good Golly Zines ; The Grunge Papers ; John Haas ; Seymour Hamilton ; Heartlines Spec ; Horsebroke Press ; Kersplebedeb Publishing (LeftWingBooks.net) ; Paragon of Virtue Press / la presse POV ; phafours press/Writebulb app/Pearl Pirie ; Proper Tales Press ; Puddles of Sky Press ; Raccoon Comics ; ROOM 3o2 BOOKS ; Sarah's Zines ; Simulacrum Press ; shreeking violet press ; swooncor ; Tel # Publishing ; Things in my Chest ; Touch the Donkey [a small poetry journal] ; Turret House Press ; Alberte Villeneuve-Sinclair ; Wyrdsmyth Press ; etc etc etc.

the ottawa small press fair is held twice a year (apart from these pandemic silences), and was founded in 1994 by rob mclennan and James Spyker. Organized/hosted since by rob mclennan.

Come on by and see some of the best of the small press from Ottawa and beyond!

Free things can be mailed for fair distribution to the same address.
 Unfortunately, we are unable to sell things for publishers who aren’t able to make the event.

Also: please let me know if you are able/willing to poster, move tables or distribute fliers for the event. The more people we all tell, the better the fair!

Contact: rob mclennan at rob_mclennan (at) hotmail.com for questions, or to sign up for a table
.

Thursday, April 30, 2026

Land of hope and glory, : Victoria, part one,

Is that too obscure a reference? The Kinks, after all, their song “Victoria.” Okay, so maybe that is too obscure. Or this Billy Bragg classic, as well (but my point was The Kinks, here), although both pulling from a British patriotic song from the turn of the prior century. I recently had some adventures in Victoria, British Columbia, doing two readings and a podcast in three days, which was a bit of a whirlwind. When was the last time I'd travelled for a reading? Dublin, last July with Christine. Or Vancouver, last year with Christine as well. Or Calgary, also with Christine. I am very fond of reading and/or travelling with Christine, as you might imagine. Do you remember when I read in London, Ontario, some two-plus years ago?

The blossoms [reminiscent, slightly, of our trip to Washington] were everywhere! Thanks to Planet Earth Poetry, The League of Canadian Poets and The Writers Union of Canada, all to help promote my University of Calgary Press poetry title from the last fall, the book of sentences. Thanks predominantly to current Victoria Poet Laureate Kyeren Regehr for bringing me out! I mean, it has been twenty years or possibly more since I've read in (or even been to) Victoria, despite the annual or semi-annual I did for a stretch beginning in 1997 or so. Maybe 2003 was the last time I was through? I can't even recall.

Thursday, April 23, 2026:
Had a 3:45am alarm for 4am cab and 6am flight, landed in Victoria by 11am or so, local time. The Ottawa-Toronto part of the flight I think I slept, but the second flight I spent most of such reading through Phoebe Wang's Relative to Wind (Assembly Press, 2024), a really interesting memoir by the Ottawa-born Toronto poet [see my review of her second poetry title here] on being part of a sailing crew across Lake Ontario. The memoir begins with language in a really interesting way, and expands across a whole slew of details on the minutae of working such a craft, and how she's learned to navigate other elements through the lessons approached here. 

I landed, and my pal (from high school, even) Jennifer collected me from the airport, and we had breakfast (I had to eat something, even though I was exhausted) at Spoons, the coolest little diner. It had posters all over of classic (up to early 70s) Marvel and DC comic book covers, some of which I even have, kicking around. Then I had to crash, where I quickly discovered I'd managed to leave my computer cord at home, so my machine (and subsequent phone) were soon to die. I slept for an hour, before I caught up with my host, poet Rhona McAdam, who was kind enough to drive me out to Staples, where they sold me the incorrect cord (I was at least smart enough to also pick up a way to recharge my phone). From there, a short walk to downtown, to eventually meet up for a pub night, organized by the delightful (and Ottawa-born) Victoria writer and journalist Sara Cassidy. I figured, maybe hit a bookstore if possible, sit with notebook and read for a bit, hang about until I met up with them, all good.

The short walk, with my huge bag of books and envelopes (for that pub night, handouts, etcetera) was ninety minutes, so I completely miscalculated on that. Walked by a gallery show (gallery closed) that looked interesting, You Do Not Have to Be Good (apparently a line from this Mary Oliver poem, which is interesting), "a multi-media debut solo exhibition by Mila Rio," but more on that later. I caught C A V I T Y, a curiosity shop, which was pretty cool. Comics, records, books (I did pick up some stuff, including a back issue of The Paris Review, but was gratified to see some Barry McKinnon poetry titles in there; I nearly picked up an extra copy or two, just to carry around). Blasting punk music. Very nice. You should go to there.


From there, I finally made it downtown, wandering by this sign that led into an alley of Victoria's Chinatown Museum and little slips of history, making me aware just how unaware I am of Victoria history generally. I mean, I have a general sense of Vancouver history, but know absolutely nothing of Victoria. The little corners of history was reminiscent of the Hogan's Alley Society over in Vancouver, attempting to salvage a period and geography of Black history specific to Vancouver, most of which had long been lost (and which every city should attempt to do, acknowledging lost histories and spaces).

The alley threaded between buildings with slips of site-specific history of Chinese immigrants in Victoria, amid a sequence of quaint little shops and curious other spaces. It really is a remarkable (and very cool) array of small spaces, intersliced with histories that deserve not to be forgotten.
Given Ottawa has a Royal Arch (in that we are capital), I've been curious to see Chinatown arches in other Canadian cities, having caught Vancouver (years ago), Montreal (once, while completely lost) and in Winnipeg [during this trip, but I appear not to have taken a picture].

I eventually found my exhausted way to The Drake Eatery and Craft Beer Parlour, where I figured I could decompress with notebook and some reading before heading over to where Sara Cassidy had organized a pub night with a few local writers for me to meet. She'd originally picked one spot, and then relocated to another, neither of which I could remember properly, so when I presumed the Drake was the original spot, so I landed there (thinking this would allow me to see two different Victoria venues), asking Sara where we were ending up, and she said I was already there? So that's on me. A delightful spot, and even, at one point, Sara's teenaged son slipping through to deliver me a computer cord, so my machine wouldn't die. This is from Sara, he said, handing me a cord and disappearing. Relief for the save (but he was like a ghost, albeit far more polite).


I first met Sara [waving, in the pic on the left] back in 1998, after Rhonda Batchelor had told me if I could get myself to Victoria, she'd give me a chapbook and a reading, so, thanks to the ottawa international writers festival's 1998 Via Rail Tour (I participated all the way to Vancouver), it was a quick hop and jump to Victoria, as Sara and I both read from our newly-published Reference West chapbooks (the press ran from 1990 to 2000, co-founded by Batchelor and her husband, the late Charles Lillard). I hadn't seen Sara in more than twenty years, and then the extra delight of being able to meet poets such as Julie Paul [see her '12 or 20 questions' here], Melanie Siebert (both photos, on the left) [see my review of her latest] and Maleea Acker (above, right) [see her 2009 '12 or 20 questions' here], as well as an appearance by Kyeren Regehr and her partner. A lovely evening! Maleea landed early, followed close behind by Melanie, so it was very good to hang out with them, especially given the years we've been interacting over email (and through writing). And honestly, not only are Melanie and Sara extremely cool, but Maleea is an absolute delight (and completing a new manuscript, by the way, shhhhhh). I was worn out by the end of the night, naturally, as I'd probably been up for some uncountable array of hours. Next up? Two readings [part two to follow].


Wednesday, April 29, 2026

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Robin Durnford

Robin Durnford was born in St. John's Newfoundland and grew up on the west coast of the island. She is the author of five books of poetry, including A Lovely Gutting (2012), Fog of the Outport (2013), Half Rock (2016), Gaptoothed (2020), and most recently, At Beckett's Grave (2025). She currently lives in Montreal (Tiohtià:ke) where she teaches poetry and memoir at John Abbott College. She is currently working on a poetry collection called Aspirations for my Enemy and a novel called Thaw.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?

A Lovely Gutting (McGill-Queen’s 2012) changed my life in a myriad of ways. It came out six months after my son was born (there’s a photo of him somewhere in his baby swing with a copy placed somewhat inappropriately in his lap for PR purposes). This was a couple of months after I had taken up my first academic post at Grenfell Campus, Memorial University and a year after I had eloped to Savannah, Georgia with my husband. In that very small part of the world—western Newfoundland—it made a bit of a splash. We had a fancy launch with so many people we had to change venues at the last minute. I went on tour. We sent the book to Seamus Heaney on the Strand in Dublin (this was just a year before he died) and he immediately wrote back to me with some encouraging and now very precious words. I felt like I had the world by the tail and in a way I did. I had finally published a book—a book of poetry no less.

At Beckett’s Grave (McGill-Queen’s 2025) came thirteen years and four books later. I now live in Montreal. People are still getting to know me here, to know my story, but I feel like in some ways the release of Beckett’s Grave is even more special. This time my teenage son could actually come to the intimate launch I had with friends, true believers, and poetry lovers at Librairie Pulp Books & Café in Verdun. I felt at home. I realized on that night that poetry has become my home.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?

The story I always tell is about doing poetry readings into a hairbrush like a pop star as I read out loud from the old Norton Anthology that had been lying around the house since I was a child or my mom finding bits of poetry on scraps of paper around my bedroom—or under the bed or under the pillow or in a shoe—after some boy broke up with me when I was a teenager. But the real story (although these other stories are also true) is a little more tragic. My dad died suddenly one day in 2004. I started working through the trauma rather poetically in a notebook I kept with me all that first summer on the island after he died. This became the basis for my first book, but I threw out the first 100 poems. It took that long for me to start writing anything good—poems that anyone else would want to read. My first ‘publication’ was some lines I wrote for my father’s grave:

Once again you dwell beneath the waves/
On the other side of surfaces we hear you laughing still…

(These words now form the inscription for a memoir I have written called Breach: A Story of Grief in Five Whales.)

3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?

My process has changed a lot over the years, but then in some ways it hasn’t changed at all. I usually start with an idea for a book—a controlling metaphor or emotional current, if you will, and go from there. With A Lovely Gutting, the metaphor was—rather stereotypically—fish, specifically the gutted fish; Half Rock (Gaspereau 2016) was into ideas of cleavage, hybridity, and mixedness of identity as I played with the image of the sedimentary rock I grew up with and became fascinated by; the fog of grief in Fog of the Outport (Jackpine 2013); the gaps in time and identity as I worked through my relationship with my own gap tooth in Gaptoothed (Gaspereau 2020); and Beckett’s existentialism and my rather foolishly getting lost trying to find his grave at a cemetery in Paris for At Beckett’s Grave.

My one rule is that I never stick too tightly to the focus and even let myself wander off a bit because I never want the poetry to feel contrived or forced. For it to work, for me, the metaphor should emerge naturally from my life as helpful and poignant in some way—as a spine for the collection rather than a cudgel.

In general, I write discreet poetic drafts that I call little poetic slabs that I then carve and sculpt and refine into shape. I’ve gotten better and better at it over the years, and I find these days the poems sometimes come nearly fully formed, but I also think it feels that way because I trust myself more. I know what I am looking for, and I am better at recognizing a poem when it comes.

4 - Where does a poem or work of prose usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book" from the very beginning?

A poem usually begins with… honestly? I have no idea. An emotion. An image. A trace of memory. A voice. It can be anything. I just sit within my own quietness, if I can get it, and see what comes up. Sometimes a spark will come from reading. Certain poets and writers can be quite generative for me, others not so much. It feels a bit random.

The answer to the second part of this question is both: I start with short pieces that I stitch together into a book, but I usually end up throwing a bunch away in a reality TV show-like elimination game of poetry survivor.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

I love doing readings. From the very beginning I loved reading poetry to an audience and can’t get enough of it really. I would read to one person or a room of thousands. I just love the sound of words and the way words make music on the tongue, and I think I am good at this very elemental thing—connecting humans to the vital sound of words rolling or roaring off the page. I also love hearing other poets read whether it be my friends in Montreal or recordings of Dylan Thomas, Sylvia Plath, Seamus Heaney. For some reason I think it’s very important that humans get up to this—especially now.

6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think the current questions are?

I think the theoretical concern behind my poetry these days is to have no theoretical concerns—to let the poems feel and to help others feel what it means to be human and alive and complicated and lovely, to really speak to and connect to other humans in a way that lets them know it’s okay—it’s okay to be us and to not know and to just experience ourselves and the world as it is—not as you are told things ‘should’ be. (I have rather pretentiously thought of this recent stance of mine—this letting go—as a sort of New Humanism).

On the other hand, I started out with a lot of theoretical ‘chips’ on my shoulder—class, marginalized linguistic identity (in terms of my Newfoundland accent/dialect), feminism, giving voice to grief and trauma at a time (twenty years ago) when Canadians seemed scared of being real about all that.

I still feel strongly about the Newfoundland accent. I want to be able to read and write in my own distinctive voice. I feel that my voice should not be flattened into Canadian conformity and blandness either (as I was pressured to do early in my career). I feel the vibrancy of the accent can sometimes make the poems come alive on and off the page, and this should be celebrated.

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Do they even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?

At Banff in 2025 I was lucky enough to workshop a new prose manuscript (a memoir called Breach) with the incredible Omar El Akkad (American War; One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This). I admire him so much and the way he carries himself as a writer in the world. He tells the truth as he sees it. He responds passionately to the moment even at some risk to himself. I want to follow that model in my own small way. This is nothing new, of course, but I think writers should be truth-tellers. Anti-propagandists, if you will. I think they should be on the side of the human—the ordinary human against the powerful systems that oppress and harm them, the forces of violence, etc. I teach Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis every year and I have thought of that book every day since the Iran War started. Her little human story is the story of that whole country now—and I grieved for her on the first day when the girl’s school got bombed in Minab.

It’s our job to be human, to remind people what it means to be human, to express that humanity, to tell stories, turn emotions into words that can be articulated and responded to.

This is crucial work in the world. It is more crucial than ever right now.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?

I love editors. I wish there were more of them and they got paid better. I think writers NEED editors especially now. Yes, I love working with editors especially when they share your vision and believe in your work. I had only one bad experience with an editor, and I think it was because they didn’t share my vision. They wanted to make my work more ‘accessible’ which is a word I actually hate (when it comes to writing) and there aren’t many words I hate.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?

The best piece of advice I’ve ever heard as a writer comes from Seamus Heaney: Don’t listen to anybody who has not produced good work. The second piece of advice comes from Doris Lessing: The conditions for writing will always be impossible (so don’t let that stop you). And the third piece of advice comes from me (she says arrogantly): Even when it comes to our precious writing—and we can be precious about it!—actual humans come first but so does the truth, and that’s a delicate balance sometimes. Also, be nice. There’s really no need to be a dick in this life. (Another piece of advice was said to me directly from the former poet laureate of Wales: There are assholes everywhere.)

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to prose)? What do you see as the appeal?

It is pretty easy for me although almost everything comes out first (or best) as poetry. Still, I started out as a journalist. I come from a storytelling culture. Sometimes you just have to tell the story.

That’s what happened to me a few years ago. I got a little tired of ‘telling my story’ in fragments or bits and pieces of poetry and just wanted the whole narrative laid out there plainly for everyone to see: death of my father, ‘scandalous’ marriage, birth of my son, becoming a poet and this became Breach (see above), a work of creative non-fiction. I’m working on a novel now (called Thaw) that goes over some of the same events but from a different angle.

11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?

These days I can’t keep much of a routine as I work full-time at the college (John Abbott College in Montreal). I am one of those people, I’m afraid, who people make fun of for getting up a 5 am, but I have to. I live on the Plateau Mont Royal, so I feel the need to get up before the city does in order to get some quiet and even then! I try to get between one and four hours of writing time in during the mornings depending on my schedule and the day and who needs what and when. It doesn’t always work. I often work weekends to make up for lost time during the week. I barely ever work in the evenings because I am too tired and my brain generally stops functioning after supper. I got my work ethic from my late father who grew up in poverty, had three kids, and built a business from the ground up.

The typical day begins with coffee—exactly three cups—and going over my schedule and then a poem or two and some sort of lefty political podcast.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?

When my writing gets stalled, I return to my desk or notebook and keep going. I re-read, I remember, I try not to judge (oh, but I judge), I try to believe if a book is supposed to be it will be. I follow my intuition, annoying I know, but if a project is really stuck, I just move on to a new project at least for a while and hope for the best. I often have multiple projects going at once. Reading also helps.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

Cedar. I grew up in a cedar house. Plaster and glue. My father was a prosthetist and built legs for people. The sea.

14 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?

All of the above really, with perhaps some particular affection for visual art. I’ve collaborated with visual artists, dancers, and musicians and I love it. I would also add fashion and gossip. Yellow journalism. Tabloids. Scandal.

Also: the ocean and its rhythms + moods—mainly the North Atlantic but also the Pacific; whales, fish, lately cats. Glenn Gould.

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?

Some poems come to mind: Sylvia Plath’s “Point Shirley”; Seamus Heaney’s “Mossbawn: Sunlight” and “Casualty”; Elizabeth Bishop’s “At the Fishhouses,” Frank O’Hara’s “Having aCoke with You” (the most romantic poem ever written); and Dylan Thomas’s, “In my craft or sullen art.” Louise Glück’s collected works. e.e. cummings’s “my father moved through dooms of love.” Eden Robinson’s Monkey Beach (this is a novel) and Traplines (short stories). Louise Erdrich’s short story “The Shawl” (this one is actually magic). Marilyn Dumont’s “The Devil’s Language.” The Picture of Dorian Gray because it still feels dangerous. Anything by Louise Bernice Halfe. Mahmoud Darwish. The careers of Michael Crummey and Lisa Moore and Mary Dalton (bless them). Omar El Akkad. Danez Smith. Octavia Butler. Salman Rushdie. James Baldwin. Elizabeth Strout’s Olive Kitteridge. Ursula K LeGuin. Haruki Murakami. Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Kafka. Shakespeare’s The Tempest. Joyce. Freud. Lacan. The psychoanalyst Jamieson Webster (On Breathing: Care in a Time of Catastrophe). Now looking into Bachelard (The Psychoanalysis of Fire).

And well, my last collection of poetry was an homage to Samuel Beckett, so definitely that wonderful anti-fascist Samuel Beckett.

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?

Travel to the middle east (as we say in the west). One day, hopefully soon (I’m a little too chicken right now), when the dust settles and the world is different, I would like to go to Egypt and do the tourist thing. I want to take my son to the pyramids as I promised him when he was little, but I would also like to travel beyond that. Anywhere it’s safe. Oman. I would definitely like to see Oman. I would like to go to Japan and sing karaoke with my brother-in-law who has lived there for decades. I would like to attend a fancy ball (maybe a fancy writer’s prize!) in a designer dress. I would like to go to the islands of St. Pierre et Miquelon (and maybe the Îles de la Madeleine and Anticosti Island) and visit the Torngat Mountains in Labrador. I would like to do a poetry reading in the cathedral at the very top of Mont-Saint-Michel in Normandy. I would like to own a corgi, a dachshund, or an Irish setter. I would like to go to Jean Talon market and buy flowers with a toy dog in my purse.

17 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?

It says in my high school yearbook that I wanted to be a war correspondent, so I’ll go with that.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

Boring answer: I had to. There was no something else for me. I am obsessed and have been obsessed with the written word my entire life except for a brief moment when I was a teenager and became obsessed with boys.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

Books: Omar El Akkad, One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This; Lucy Grealy’s amazing Autobiography of a Face

Film: No Other Land

20 - What are you currently working on?

As mentioned, a novel called Thaw: The Unfreezing of a Family in which three siblings look back on the traumatic death of their father—and the image of their living father—with different eyes. The story starts with a family crisis that brings them together rather reluctantly. In this horrible moment, they finally realize that healing will only come when they melt the freeze that has come between them in order to put a coherent story together that will help them make their peace with each other, with the family, with their father.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;