In 1983 I was standing in a tiny, blistering hot telephone booth in Belize City…

To continue the nostalgia kick, in 1983 I was standing in a tiny, blistering hot telephone booth in Belize City, having a conversation with my mother in Winnipeg. I’d received a letter from the University of Victoria accepting me into the undergraduate Creative Writing program. Though I was in Belize to work on a dig, that acceptance decided my career track. I dropped out of a Master’s program (in archaeology) to set out becoming a writer (though I would continue working as a field archaeolog...