by Naomi K Lewis
As a boy, Timmy (Sir Timothy Brian F. the Fantabulous) tells tall, tragic tales to get attention from the adults in his life - particular his busy mother and Dr. Bass, his nerdy-cool neighbour. As a young man, his escalating lies destroy his relationships, alienate his loved ones, and land him in hot water with police; but that doesn’t stop him from crying wolf again and again.
WHO KNOWS WHO I was before the autumn I turned eight. Timmy to my mom, Timbelina to the lunchroom villain squad, Sir Timothy Brian F. the Fantabulous to future biographers. Then came my birthday, Mommy’s cake all sky blue with white marshmallow clouds and Superman flying fist forward, a week or two before the trees in our neighbourhood started to shed yellow and red leaves. And then came the Saturday I smashed down onto a raked-up pile of them and straight to observation.
I’d heated my forehead against the radiator that morning and clung to the bedframe claiming smallpox, but my mother said, get out get out, I have eight hundred canapés to make. So I dodged around knife-wielding Mommy in the kitchen and donned my red boots and redder cape, which billowed behind me as I skidded down into the gulley behind our cul-de-sac fast as fast though Maryland tick season was long over. Across the stream at the bottom in a single bound and I heaved myself up the other side, knees up, knees up, slipping on the rotting leaves and drying grass. Music was playing, but not the kind I wanted to hear.
“Swing low, sweet chariot ...”
My back-to-back neighbour, Kate Katie Kate Kate a.k.a. Katherine-Ann—yes, Bass, the one and only—bounced on the Batman-blue trampoline in her back yard, singing along with a record playing through the open back-porch door. “Coming for to carry me home ...” I liked it when she went up and her hair went tight like a plastic bowl on her head. Down and the hair rose into hedgehog bristles, her plaid shirt bloating out to show her belly button above black stretchy pants. The pants fastened round the bottoms of her pink-socked feet.
“Don’t go in,” she said as I marched up the porch’s steps. “Dad’s waxing Mommy’s bikini area.” I checked, my face up against the screen door. Dark shapes moved inside.
“And,” said Dr. Bass. “Aaand—”
Dr. Bass’s wife said a word we don’t say, one fast bad syllable.
about the author
from the library
Having lived a long, eventful life, Charlie Weinheimer’s only regret is that he has no one to carry on after him. After a near-death experience, he resolves to find out whether a secret buried in his past is proof he has a legacy after all.
“Margoshes gives us the life of Charlie Weinheimer: quadruple bypass patient, widower whose children all die tragically young, but not a whiner. In his hospital bed at age seventy-seven, he’s seen it all, right? Well, maybe not. Watch as Margoshes calls upon his raconteur skills to thicken the plot.”
— David Carpenter, winner of the 2010 Saskatchewan Book Award for A Hunter’s Confession
When Blanche first began singing, she was humble, eager, willing to work, willing to learn. Now she is headstrong, condescending, unprofessional, and just a tiny bit full of herself. She is also the closest to genius that Antoinette, her accompanist, may ever have a chance to work with.
Inspired by true events, this story by Scotiabank Giller Prize-nominated author Pauline Holdstock tells of the incredible bond between a mother and daughter, and with gut-wrenching poignancy reminds us of the little things that make life worth living.
“Hers is the kind of prose you get lost in.”
— National Post on The Hunter and the Wild Girl
“Holdstock’s writing manages to be both heartbreakingly poetic and densely detailed ... sad passages, ghostlike recollections, written almost from the vantage point of the present, establish the book as a great work of fiction.”
— The Globe and Mail on Into the Heart of the Country, longlisted for the 2011 Scotiabank Giller Prize
“Holdstock, with a few deft strokes, pulls the reader into the tumultuous life of an alluring rabble of characters: painters, sculptors, patrons, fools, and slaves ... In Beyond Measure, she proves herself a master of pacing. Her lively, macabre plot trips lightly along in spite of its dark elements.”
— The Globe and Mail on Beyond Measure, finalist for the 2004 Giller Prize and the 2004 Commonwealth Writers' Prize
At Georgetown University, a music student and part-time nude life model becomes involved with the first true passion of her life, a man who awakens her to the weight of experience she already possesses - as well as the ups and downs yet to come.
In the rugged Nepisiguit River region of northern New Brunswick, two hunters face off. One is local sports lodge employee Danny Knockwood, a Mi’gmaw guide with a withered hand. The other is Mui’n, a one-eared black bear battling his inexorable hunger. When Danny is charged by the lodge owner to hunt down the bear that is frightening guests at the salmon pools, his personal values come into sharp conflict with his commitment to the task. The resulting confrontation tests both his physical strength and his beliefs, as Danny begins to recognize a kindred spirit within the fiercely determined bear.
Health care workers on a night out unwind, allowing the anxieties and passions they've had to suppress on the job finally uncoil, like tendrils creeping out into the world - and into each other. Written with empathy and panache, this story is a portrait of briefly flaring humanity - of people granted a temporary reprieve from professionalism, and not quite knowing what to do with it.
“At the Bar is Rosenblum at her best - exploring the complicated nature of work and relationships with her trademark perceptiveness, humour, and compassion, and creating characters that will stay with you long after the story is over.”
— Amy Jones, author of What Boys Like and Other Stories
Father Michael, in his final assignment, has been asked by his Order to help facilitate recovery of an Asian country blighted by war. On the long odyssey into the interior, his driver and translator Trang tells him a story set in a once-famed traveller’s refuge known as the Inn of Tender Embraces. What starts as a simple tale of ill-fated lovers becomes, for Father Michael, a familiar beacon that guides him through the mists of an exotic landscape.
“Don McLellan is the kind of wise, well-travelled writer we don’t see much of these days. With Angels Passing he earns the right to be included in the exotic tradition of Hemingway, Maugham, and Graham Greene. Like all memorable writing, his story takes us to another world and holds us there. As spare and subtle as it is powerful, Angels Passing will linger in your mind long after the last page.”
— John Lekich, Governor General’s Award Finalist for The Losers’ Club