my voice

I’m losing my voice because I’ve finally caught the cold that has afflicted all my friends. After eating FOUR butter tarts yesterday, I am doing a mini-detox and these strawberries with lemon juice feel good on my raw throat. This morning I turned off the radio and listened instead to my conversation with Sandi Klein, which we taped last month. It’s always uncomfortable to hear your recorded voice, but I’m grateful for the opportunity to reflect on my writer’s life. Sandi’s fantastic podcast, Conversations with Creative Women, gives female artists the chance to talk about their evolution and influences. I don’t often talk about my older brother during interviews, but we started off with my happy childhood and that meant talking about my brother’s failed adoption. He arrived in our home on Halloween, which must have been terrifying; I was two, my sister 4, and Denzil had just turned 6. He had grown up on a small Caribbean island and found it very challenging to adjust to life in Canada. My father, who had been abused as a child, then used corporal punishment whenever my brother acted out, which only made things worse. There were a lot of silences in my family, which contributed to my decision to become a storyteller. As a child, how else do you make sense of your world? If no one gives you language to understand events, you find or create your own narratives…

Heading out in search of soup. Really wanted some grey days this week but will have to write despite the bright sunshine!