With dreamlike stories and dark humour, Anecdotes is a hybrid collection in four parts examining the pressing realities of sexual violence, abuse, and environmental collapse.

Absurdist flash fictions in “The Boy is Dead” depict characters such as a park that hates hippies, squirrels, and unhappy parents; a woman lamenting a stolen laptop the day the world ends; and birds slamming into glass buildings.

“We’re Not Here to Talk About Aliens” gathers autofictions that follow a young protagonist from childhood to early 20s, through the murky undercurrent of potential violence amidst sexual awakening, from first periods to flashers, sticker books to maxi pad art, acid trips to blackouts, and creepy professors to close calls.

“This Isn’t a Conversation” shares one-liners from overheard conversations, found texts, diary entries, and random thoughts: many are responses to the absurdity and pain of the current political and environmental climate.

In “My Dream House,” the past and the future are personified as various incarnations in relationships to one another (lovers, a parent and child, siblings, friends), all engaged in ongoing conflict.

These varied, immersive works bristle with truth in the face of unprecedented change. They are playful forms for serious times.

Praise for Anecdotes

“Part coming of age and part end times, Anecdotes is a bold and brilliant mixture of dark humour, understated literary experiments, and a poet’s eye for the truth. Mockler’s writing isn’t afraid to look at the world and see it for what it is. Her stories are so deeply immersive you’ll never want to leave. An absolute must-read if you live on this planet and even if you don’t.” —Carleigh Baker, author of Bad Endings

“‘What happened to you?’ Terrible things do happen. Daily. From the opening story of a dead boy nobody loved, to anxiety-ridden days of overcrowded public buses and murderous job interviews, to birds dropping from the sky, to no one needing money anymore [or a stolen laptop] because the world is ending today and everyone still thinks it’s happening to someone else while it’s happening to them. Is it too late? Of course it is! ‘What do they need?’ Don’t ask Pastor Rick. Like you, dear reader. ‘They need to hold on real tight.’ Mockler’s Anecdotes is an instant ‘post hope’ classic!” —Kirby, author of Poetry is Queer

“Utterly original, bracingly acidic, and always vulnerable, Kathryn Mockler channels Donald Barthelme having a psychotic break in this magnificent collection of coming-of-age stories for late stage capitalism.” —Emily Schultz, author of The Blondes and Sleeping With Friends

2024 Fred Kerner Book Award judges comments
“Kathryn Mockler challenges our preconceptions about what a short-story is and can be with this collection. Like Lydia Davis before her, she pushes the envelope on this form, opening new vistas for writers who are bound to follow her lead. Particularly engaging are the stories that play with form to bring us new perspectives on story-telling. In any collection this approach would be brave and challenging. When taking on topics like sexual violence, abuse and environmental change it rises above those laudable aims and achieves something more profound: pure art, gracefully achieved.”

“Anecdotes is a highly original and an intentionally jarring hybrid collection in four distinct parts. Mockler’s bold and darkly playful approach to exploring some of the big issues of our time is an authentic and empowering call to action to anyone who’s paying attention.”

2024 VMI Betsy Warland Between Genres Award judge’s comments:

“More than mere Anecdotes, Kathryn Mockler delivers a kaleidoscope of compressed, heartbreaking, and hilariously vivid scenes from our age of anxiety. Visions and traumas, both personal and political, unfold as fabulations, autofictions, found texts and allegory (wherein “the past” laughs themselves silly at “the future’s” efforts to build their “dream home”). The end of the world is our daily companion—seen on a highway outside Las Vegas, or casually announced in a public library—but Mockler never lets us forget the very ordinary ways we experience endings: of friendships, love, self-confidence, or childhood illusions. How does one not despair? Mockler reminds us, in seemingly endless permutations of prose genre, form, and method, that “everything becomes beautiful when you realize nothing is going to last.” —Steven Collis

Winner City of Victoria Butler Book Prize Kathryn Mockler Anecdotes

Press Coverage

What We’re Reading: Staff Writers’ Picks, Spring 2023 —Hamilton Review of the Books

24 Books by Past CBC Poetry Prize Winners and Finalists Being Published in 2023 —CBC Books

What to Read this Summer —Frieze

Most Anticipated: Our 2023 Fall Fiction Preview —49th Shelf

Our books editor on the 30 (plus!) new reads we can’t wait to cozy up with this fall —Toronto Star

Books of the Month: September 2023 Edition —Vol. 1 Brooklyn

7 Tragicomic Book That I Love: Kathryn Mockler —49th Shelf

Power Q&A with Kathryn Mockler —River Street Writing

An Interview with Kathryn Mockler —All Lit Up

“Kathryn Mockler’s debut collection of short fiction is a deliciously dark and clever experiment that succeeds beautifully. Across four parts, the book riffs through flash fiction, connected stories, and micro conversations, ending with a past/future blend of hopelessness that will appeal to any cynic—or perhaps even realist.” —Candace Fertile, The British Columbia Review

“I was pleased to have Anecdotes in my hands and immerse myself in Mockler’s work…Against this darkness, the light shines ever brighter. Mockler bravely looks into the void and reports what she sees. Again, Beckett comes to mind” —Michael Bryson

Reframing Rage with Kathryn Mockler —Reframeables Podcast

“In powerful, distilled prose, Mockler seamlessly blends dark humour with pain. Add in absurdist flash fiction, climate anxiety, micro-conversations—this is a book with existential bite.” —Catherine Graham, The Ampersand Review

“Mockler blends traditional form with conversation deconstructions, one liners, and flash fiction. ‘Past and future’ is a reoccurring motif, and provides an organic pathway to explore the trajectory of the climate crisis in our lifetime, and the media’s all too common ‘how did we get here?’ refrain. Mockler’s look at social nostalgia is particularly satisfying, with wildly relatable stories that offer the possibility for rosy recollection, and then yank it away with a grin.” —Carleigh Baker, 49th Shelf

“How do we act justly on behalf of our earth amid political outrage? Mockler creates a space for us to have this reaction and encourages us to not disembody ourselves from the narrative entirely. We’re all deeply interconnected with each other, especially with those we disagree with. It’s more important than ever to expand our capacity and to keep engaging critically.” —Mia Johnson, The Whitewall Review

“One-of-a-kind assemblage of short fictions, a book with one of the most original covers I’ve ever seen.” —Heidi Greco, subTerrain Magazine

“These rapid-fire vignettes create entire worlds and drama with speed, ease, and a trippy dexterity. Lots of fun and unlike anything else you’ll read.” —Shawn Micallef, 2024 Summer Recommended Reading List for the Writers’ Trust of Canada

Episode 6: Kathryn Mockler —Tim Blackett and Friends podcast

Episode 107 – Kathryn Mockler: Four Stories from ANECDOTES —Short Story Today podcast

“Anecdotes is a fascinating collection of stories, moments, conversations, and thoughts that are delightful and disturbing—often at the same time. I adore what author Kathryn Mockler has done: creating a book that, when I was done reading it, felt like a complete story—felt whole—but was made up of these shiny and sharp shards of life.” —Hollay Ghadery, 49th Shelf

“From kids bullied in a schoolyard to environmental collapse, Mockler sucker-punches her readers with the courage to shine light and comment on serious issues. Her writing is uncommonly direct and she does not try to sugar coat the hopelessness that many of us experience when contemplating the issues she puts forth. Yet, she does give us the only thing that could possibly manage such harsh reality— outrageously good humour.” —Deborah Vail, PRISM International

Getting to know Kathryn Mockler: An Interview by Deborah Vail —PRISM International

Books Can Be Powerful: A recommended reading list by the author of I Remember Lights —49th Shelf

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Published on May 20, 2025 20:38

May 19, 2025

Send My Love to Anyone | Issue 46

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I’ve been meaning to ask you fundraiser and draw

Thanks everyone who donated!

In May we raised over $800 for the I’ve Been Meaning to Ask You Fundraiser and Draw.

The winner of the draw is Kevin Wilson! Congrats Kevin!

Enter the June fundraiser and draw!

Check out the most recent interviews:

The First Time I though it was about the poetry by

On a certain morning, mid-March, I was wakened by a fellow poet in Montreal, “Kirby, you’re going to the Griffins!” followed by a few similar texts, then going online to see what the fuss was actually about, and indeed my dear poet friend Dale Martin Smith’s brilliant long poem, The Size of Paradise was selected as a Finalist for the 2025 Griffin Poetry Prize which I published at knife | fork | book.

Poetry“Tomorrow” by from Shadow Price (House of Anansi Press)
There is still time, so approve the project. Comply with the law, or don’t. It’s not the end of the world. Find a way to minimize expenses. Cut those jobs, they’ll be fine. The future is a tightrope. Lengthen it with cash. Lengthen it with flights overseas, the air is clear enough. The pilot will be fine. The kids will be fine. Look them in the eye. Try again. That’s it. Smile. Collect donations from customers. ","cta":"Read full story","showBylines":true,"size":"sm","isEditorNode":true,"title":"Comply with the law, or don’t. It’s not the end of the world. ","publishedBylines":[{"id":7420303,"name":"Farah Ghafoor","bio":"Farah Ghafoor is an award-winning poet and author of Shadow Price (House of Anansi, 2025).","photo_url":"https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f... me get back to you","primaryPublicationId":68318}],"post_date":"2025-05-04T05:43:23.355Z","cover_image":"https://substack-post-media.s3.amazon... ","id":162800041,"type":"newsletter","reaction_count":0,"comment_count":0,"publication_name":"Send My Love to Anyone","publication_logo_url":"https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f... poems from Myth (House of Anansi Press) by Terese Mason Pierre“Sparrow on the Balcony Railing” by from Birdology (Cactus Press)FictionAn excerpt from A Mouth Full of Salt (Invisible Publishing) by Reem Gaafar

In the year that she had lived in Khartoum, Nyamakeem had seen very few Southerners except for a few soldiers retired from the Egyptian army who now lived on the far end of El Diyoum. The British government had not wanted the Arab Muslims infiltrating the South, corrupting the people and spreading their despised “Mohamedanism” into the rest of Africa. So, they had enacted a closed territory policy in the South, replacing Arab infantry in the military with the Equatorian Corps, relocating all Northern Sudanese administrators to the North, and pushing out Northern merchants.

One of These Days We’ll Both Be Fine

I’m starting a new series called One of These Days We’ll Both Be Fine which was something my mother said to me earlier this year when we were both having a bad day. At the time it was slightly sad, a little funny, but also comforting.

Here are a few excerpts:

Gatherings

South of Oxford

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One of These Days We’ll Both Be Fine

A white house beside a square white brick building beside white trucks under a night sky with a single street lamp.

South of Oxford, London, Ontario, May 15, 2025, Kathryn Mockler

There are some parts of London, Ontario that still give off the feeling of London in the 1980s. Walking home from a restaurant, Dave and I came upon this scene.

The white brick building used to be Papa’s Pizza.

When I posted it on IG, a friend who read my first book, Onion Man which was set in London, commented, “Onion Man vibes.”

So true.

It’s strange to walk around your home town especially when most of the memories are not great.

Each landmark I’m like, “Oh that’s where that shitty thing happen and then that’s where that shitty thing happened.”

Talbot South of Oxford

One of These Days We’ll Both Be Fine

Talbot South of Oxford, London, Ontario, May 15, 2025, Kathryn Mockler

There are some parts of London, Ontario that still give off the feeling of London in the 1980s. Walking home from a restaurant, Dave and I came upon this scene.

The white brick building used to be Papa’s Pizza.

When I posted it on IG, a friend who read my first book, Onion Man which was set in London, commented, “Onion Man vibes.”

So true.

It’s strange to walk around your home town especially when most of the memories are not great.

Each landmark I’m like, “Oh that’s where that shitty thing happen and then that’s where that shitty thing happened.”

Support Send My Love to Anyone

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Big heartfelt thanks to all of the subscribers and contributors who make this project possible!

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Published on May 19, 2025 21:44

I would send my love to those who have forgotten how to love, who lost the capacity or never learned it at all.

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I’ve been meaning to ask you is an interview series where Kathryn Mockler invites people to answer questions on being human.

What is your first memory of existing?

I remember wondering, as many kids do, Where was I before I was born? The answer reminds me of an exercise meant to help sighted people imagine complete blindness. Most people close their eyes, and think darkness. The exercise goes like this: raise both arms out to your sides, then slowly move them back until they disappear from your peripheral vision. Now ask yourself: What color is the air behind your head? It’s easier to imagine the dark than nothing at all.

In short, in wondering where I existed before I existed, I suppose, I understood, by negation that I existed.

But my first real memory of existing, the first time I became “I” is much clearer. I was sitting with my family, and recall the sledgehammer hit of realising: I will only ever see the world through these eyes. I can’t step into my mother’s mind or borrow my father’s eyes—a fact that struck me as utterly absurd. There’s a developmental term for the moment a child realizes they’re separate from their parents—but I can’t think of it. I just remember what came next: a wave of sadness, loneliness, and desperation—like waking up in a prison where each inmate is kept alone, and no one ever gets out.

What is your first memory of being creative?

Turning myself into a bird. As a child, perched on my mother’s kitchen table, I saw no reason why I couldn’t fly off its edge if I flapped hard enough, if I meant it. It seemed simple. Obvious, even. If creativity means to see something in the mind and then take steps to make it real, then my first creative act was that launch into the air.

What is the best or worst dream you ever had?

The worst dream I’ve ever had? What stays with me are two things: the image of small hands, and the silence — not a single word is spoken.

A long ladder stretches across a steep canyon, water rushing far below. My child dangles from one of the rungs. I’m above them, close enough to see — not their face, not their body — just their two small hands, clinging to life hundreds of feet in the air.

I reach down to save them.

But I’m too late.

Their hands slip.

They let go.

And the silence stays.

What do you cherish most about this world?

Water. Swimming in it. Watching it change color. The sound when it crashes. Salt on a sunburn. A rock, blurred by a sheet of it. Lake smell. River smell. Ocean smell. Things that live in it just out of sight.

What would you like to change about this world?

I’d give the world new eyes. I’m reminded of two quotes. The first suggests that if people could see into their enemy’s secret heart, it would be enough to end all wars. It has a ring to it, and I believed it for a long time. Much art aspires to this—to humanize the other, to dismantle stereotypes. Literature, in particular, excels at this, giving readers access to the inner lives of others in a way that real life rarely permits.

The second quote comes from Iris Murdoch, the British writer and philosopher, who spoke about the cultivation of “true sight.” To have true sight, she said, is to apprehend that other people truly exist. While the first quote assumes an innate goodness that, once awakened, will lead us to do right, the second proposes that such goodness is not innate— so if I could wave a wand, I’d give the world truly-seeing eyes.

Do you believe in ghosts? Why or why not?

I believe in ghosts—because it's a harmless belief that hurts no one.

In Mexico City, I stayed in an old building near the Zócalo, still riddled with bullet holes from the 1913 revolution. Our room had more people than beds, so I was sleeping on the floor when I heard footsteps approaching. With my ear to the ground, the sound was loud enough to rouse me. It's easy to judge distance by sound, like knowing from your bedroom whether someone’s in the kitchen or living room. These footsteps were about twenty feet away, through an open door. But no one was there, and our door was bolted shut.

The next morning, I asked if the building was haunted. I was told it was—by three different ghosts.

My current house, built in 1936, is in the oldest residential neighborhood of Victoria, BC. The toaster oven used to turn on by itself, until we started wondering if someone unseen was hungry. My child began making toast for the ghost, leaving it on top of the oven with a folded construction paper place card that read “Toast Ghost,” so no one else would eat it by mistake. After that, the oven calmed down.

We called our guest the Toast Ghost—until a friend saw a little girl ahead of her on the stairs. The girl, who shared my daughter’s hair color and age, walked into the kitchen. But when my friend stepped in, the girl was gone. My daughter hadn’t been upstairs.

After that, I began calling her Little Ghost. “Little Ghost,” I’ll say, “where are my glasses? My wallet? My car keys?” I don’t stress—I laugh at her mischief. Sometimes I use a firm voice: “Little Ghost, Little Ghost. You must return my keys now. I’m late.” More often than not, the object reappears.

Maybe it’s absent-mindedness. Faulty wiring. Sound distortions. But I believe in ghosts—because the belief makes me happy.

If you could send your love to anyone, who would it be and why?

I would send my love to those who have forgotten how to love, who lost the capacity or never learned it at all. To those who gave up because it once bit them, or who found themselves drowning in it and felt they had no choice but to swim to shore. To those who think love is too hard, a hassle, too heavy to hold. Who see it as something you fall into like a swimming pool, rather than a conscious decision to treat others well. Love is what gratitude looks like when it moves. It’s an action. It springs from gratitude—that we woke up this morning with breath in our lungs. Desire, attachment, fear— those things exist, but I wouldn’t call them love.

Include info about your latest project or book (ie book cover, description) and/or something you want to promote or support.

The Falling Maria

a novel by Yasuko Thanh

A LYRICAL, MULTILAYERED AND SHOCKING TALE FROM THE AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR OF MYSTERIOUS FRAGRANCE OF THE YELLOW MOUNTAINS

What happens when a woman refuses to conform to the expectations of her gender? In 1920, Maria Mandapat, veteran female WWI fighter pilot and international celebrity, is tried and executed for serial murder, for exacting revenge on her male abusers. But at the very moment the noose tightens, her soul continues its journey, slipping right through her stockings and out the soles of her shoes. She finds herself seated on a train—to Heaven.

The afterlife is unlike any Heaven Maria imagined. It is a dreary bureaucracy little distinguishable from Earth’s, populated by busybody angels, well-meaning but ineffectual saints, and the listless dregs of souls waiting in futility for promised salvation. Maria, a controversial figure in death and in life, is quickly put on trial—but this time, St. Adelaide of Rome, patron saint of abused women, has taken a personal interest in Maria’s case, because her heavenly trial is not for the crime of murder, but for a much graver sin.

The Falling Maria explores motherhood and freedom, and the tensions between dirtiness and holiness, right and wrong, disobedience and survival, and the lives of the forgotten. It serves as a meditation on suffering and the bonds between mothers and daughters, as well as the many meanings of falling: falling from God, from grace, through the air, into death, and toward a form of holiness and liberation.

Join Victoria II Palestine – Stand in Solidarity for a Free Palestine

We invite you to stand with us every Saturday at 2 PM at the Parliament Buildings in Victoria, BC as we rally for justice, peace, and a Free Palestine.

Victoria II Palestine is a welcoming community united in solidarity with the Palestinian people. Whether you're new to activism or a longtime supporter, your presence matters.

Come raise your voice. All are welcome!

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Published on May 19, 2025 00:22

May 18, 2025

To my younger self, I would say speak up and take up space.

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I’ve been meaning to ask you is an interview series where Kathryn Mockler invites people to answer questions on being human.

What is your first memory of being creative (writing, art making, etc.)?

My earliest memories of creativity were during play. I loved to take my dolls and barbies and create worlds for them, imaging forests and rivers, and how they would interact with one another. I did similar things when I drew. I created a series of drawing of young women, often in period costume, and always named them. In my mind, each one had a complete life, an untold story. In essence, I was writing stories before I started writing.

What is the best or worst dream you ever had?

When I lived in my previous house, I had reoccurring dreams of the roof falling in on me and I would bolt upright in the middle of the night, disorientated and thinking we were suffocating under rubble.

As a child, I had a reoccurring dream of a women dressed in black—very witchlike—who appeared at the bottom of the basement stairs and whom I believed lived in the “cave,” a sort of crawl space with a mostly rock outcrop floor.

What is your favourite coincidence?

I don’t believe in coincidences, but some may say this story is an example of one. I prefer to think of it as serendipitous. I was travelling in Finland researching for Sisu’s Winter War and was travelling back from Tuusala to Helsinki, thinking I’d like to do some shopping. I was scrolling on my phone and looked up red shoes, surprised to find a store called, you guessed it, Red Shoe. When I arrived in the store, I tried on a few shoes, and the salesperson asked where I was from. We struck up a conversation and I explained why I was in Finland. She was so interested in what I was writing, especially the Winter War. She explained she didn’t work in the store but was doing a favour for the owner. She worked at the university and was something of an expert on the topic I was researching. Was it just a coincidence? I don’t think so. When you allow the universe to know what you’re working on, it opens in unexpected ways to deliver exactly what you need. I made a great connection. And purchased a lovely pair of red shoes.

What advice would you give to your younger self? Your younger self could be you at any age.

As the youngest of four kids, and the only girl, I was frequently outnumbered and generally silenced. I learned early on if I expressed my opinion, it would likely be shot down and I would be made to feel stupid. I unconsciously held on to that sabotaging belief from childhood through to adulthood, rarely speaking up in class during high school even when I knew the right answers. It took many years for me to find my voice and be confident in myself.

To my younger self, I would say speak up and take up space. Don’t fear how others view you. You will find your people. You will find power in your words.

Do you believe in ghosts? Why or why not?

I want to believe in ghosts, but I have no real evidence of them. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a ghost, no matter how often I look for them in the wee hours of the night, although I do wake from dreams and think shadowy figures are in my room. However, I’ve experienced enough in my life to believe those who have gone before us are present in some way—energy perhaps?

After my father died in 2018, I had the strange experience of seeing combinations of ones and fours all over the place. If I woke in the night, it was 4:14 am. If I glanced at the clock during the day, it was 1:14. It happened all the time for many years—and still does. Perhaps it was just a coincidence, and I just happened on those numbers. When I moved in 2019, my new house number just happened to be 41 and my PO Box 144. My cell number has 0314 at the end. I see those number everywhere and in the most unexpected places. The thing is my father’s lucky number was fourteen. Every time I his number, I say, “Hello, Dad.” It gives me comfort. And I suppose that’s more meaningful than actual proof that my father is trying to communicate with me. (But I think he is!).

If you could send your love to anyone, who would it be and why?

I send my love to anyone who is dreaming of a creative life but struggling in their day-to-day. I’ve been there, and I know how hard it is to be living a life that feels inauthentic. I also know it’s possible to change your life to become more creative, more yourself, even if only for small, brilliant moments.

What are you working on now?

I’m a writer who usually has a few projects on the go at any given time. My second historical novel (untitled at the moment) will be released in the fall of 2026. I am also querying my third historical novel, and writing a draft of a fourth, with plans for a contemporary series which I’ve started planning. On Substack, I have weekly Women Writing features, weekly Women Writing podcast, and a series called Book Coach Writes a Book.

Liisa Kovala is a Finnish Canadian writer and book coach. Her debut novel, Sisu’s Winter War, was released by Latitude 46 Publishing in 2022. Surviving Stutthof: My Father’s Memories Behind the Death Gate (Latitude 46, 2017) was translated and published by Docendo in Finland, and short-listed for a Northern Lit award. Liisa’s short stories and creative non-fiction have been published in a variety of anthologies and literary magazines, and she received first prize in Geist’s 18th Annual Literal Literary Postcard Short Story Contest. As a certified Author Accelerator fiction and memoir book coach, Liisa works with writers both in small group settings and individually. Liisa features fellow writers in her Women Writing newsletter, hosts the Women Writing Podcast and co-hosts Rekindle Creativity Women’s Writing Retreats with Dinah Laprairie. Learn more about Liisa at liisakovalabookcoach.com and visit liisakovalawomenwriting.substack.com.

Buy The Sisu's Winter War

Publisher’s Description

When memories threaten to disappear, past promises must be confronted.

Meri Saari made a promise to her dying mother that she would keep the family together, but she was too young to know how a war can pull people apart. With the Soviet invasion of Finland, Meri pledges loyalty to the Lotta Svärds and becomes the sole caretaker for her siblings. When her father goes missing in action, she finds herself searching for him on the front lines.

Forty years later, living in northern Ontario, Meri’s past and present collide when she is diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s. Responsible for her granddaughter, and navigating a strained relationship with her daughter Linnea, Meri is haunted by the people of her past and by the promises she failed to keep. As she struggles against her inevitable decline, she knows her losses are amassing: her home, her health, and her memories. Meri embarks on one last journey in search of the man she had to give up, before it’s too late. Before everything disappears.

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Published on May 18, 2025 23:30

Sparrow on the Balcony Railing

Sparrow on the Balcony RailingText within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedStuck flapping chaoticallywhen I gently pulled him from the sticky messHeld him warm soft I placed him in a white flower boxfilled with dead stems dry soilcould then wash my handsbefore reachinga shelter finding it wasbird repellent should be called bird killerI had only faint hopethis sparrow would survivegiven my twenty minutes tryingto rid my hands of that gummy messI called the SPCA wildlife lineTrying my bestWhen I left the sinkmy hosts told me the bird was goneBut then I saw himflapping uncomprehendinglywent out picked him up againwanting to set him in placewanting to cover himHe was frantic with gluey wingsspilled over the railing goneOnce again I washedmy sticky fingersthinking of the bird maybelaying broken eight storeys downmy chance of finding himunlikely I had not succeeded in savingthe sparrownot succeeded in giving him a good deathIt made me wonder about theword repellentand the viscosity ofmeaning

Carolyne Van Der Meer is a Montreal journalist, public relations professional and university lecturer. Her articles, essays, short stories and poems have been published internationally. Her five published books are: Motherlode: A Mosaic of Dutch Wartime Experience (WLUP, 2014); Journeywoman (Inanna, 2017); Heart of Goodness: The Life of Marguerite Bourgeoys in 30 Poems | Du Coeur à l’âme : La vie de Marguerite Bourgeoys en 30 poèmes (Guernica Editions, 2020); Sensorial (Inanna, 2022) and All This As I Stand By (Ekstasis Editions, 2024). Chapbook publications include One Week’s Worth but a Lifetime More (Local Gems Press, 2022) and Broken Pieces: Hospital Experiences (2023); Birdology is forthcoming from Cactus Press in May 2025.

Publisher’s Description

Carolyne Van Der Meer’s chapbook Birdology is an exploration of loss of memory, of autonomy—and ultimately of the loved ones themselves. Against a backdrop of urban and natural environments filled with everyday birds, she considers how our relationships with our parents evolve as they age, need us more—and eventually leave us. Through a quintet of flash essays and a handful of poems, Van Der Meer moves through what she calls the “spell of grief,” accompanied by flocks of gulls, house sparrows and rock pigeons.

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Published on May 18, 2025 23:15

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