Category Archives: Books

Deep Breath: The Journey To Inhale Exhale

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“Move about after dinner, and meet acquaintance whose name I have forgotten, but connect with literature. I ask if he has published anything lately. He says that his work is not, and never can be, for publication. Thought passes through my mind to the effect that this attitude might with advantage be adopted by many others.” EM Delafield, Diary of a Provincial Lady, one of my favourite books

Last Tuesday, I had an epiphany while on the elliptical trainer. I realized that my new work in progress is all wrong. I was 21000 words in, and I had been going about it all wrong. All wrong! I decided I was going to just start over, from the very beginning, rather than pivoting and making changes in the next draft. Two days later, I got my period.

Many of you will remember that 2023 was a year of change and transition for me, not to mention a year of numerous non-hormonal emotional breakdowns. We moved here in July of 2023, and by late August I was a bit at loose ends, having unpacked and settled in. I missed my yoga students and I missed teaching, but I could not handle even the thought of starting all over again in that world.

My husband encouraged me to take some creative writing courses and write that book I’d always talked about, and in the fall of that year I registered in a series of online courses at UBC to do just that. With my yoga students in mind, and with great nostalgia for the Calgary Yoga Shala, I planned my story. I took the first two UBC courses – How To Write a Novel: Structure and Outline, and Writing the Draft – that fall, and I took the third and final course, Edit and Revise, in January 2025, at which point I was starting my third draft of what would become Inhale Exhale. It took me just shy of six months to write the first draft, and then a year after that to revise it to something I was satisfied with.

I spent a lot of time soul-searching and meditating about what to do with my project. It was written with joy; it was such a happy and fun process, taking an idea and creating characters. I was very happy with the end result, and I wanted to share it with the world. But how?

Last week, in my Monday night writing group – created while taking the UBC courses – my friend Jen said something that really resonated with me (HI JEN). She said that turning 50 made a switch go off for her, a sense of urgency. There’s no time to fuck around anymore. It’s really true. I have found, since turning 50, that I have a desperate urge to do all the things that I thought I would do someday. I might live another 50 years, it’s true, but I also might not. When it comes to friends, family, and former classmates, there have been an astonishing number of deaths, death scares, and diagnoses in the past couple of years. No one knows how much time we have left. What if I die before I do the things I want to do?

I don’t know how much you know about the publishing industry, but the path to traditional publication is complicated and full of blockades. The typical path is that after many, many months of querying, an author gets an agent, who may or may not be able to sell a book to a publisher, and that book may or may not see the light of day. It’s a very long process at the very best of times, and unless an author is of Elin Hildebrand or Stephen King stature, there is almost no money to be made. Very few authors earn out their advances, and when asked the question about how authors pay their bills, my creative writing instructor said they get a second or third job, like teaching creative writing. Something that may surprise you is that book tours are funded at least partially, if not totally, by the author, not the publisher. Authors are expected to do a lot of the legwork in terms of promotion, and on top of that, the royalty percentage through traditional publication is very small.

So one does not write a book for the money, but that’s okay, because I wasn’t. I was writing a book because I wanted to write a book; I love writing, and I hoped that people would read and enjoy my writing. I did not want my book to sit in a drawer, unread, while I desperately queried agents for years, getting rejection letter after rejection letter. Do you know how often rejection happens? It’s a real thing, and I guarantee that all of your favourite authors went through many rejections before being published. As an example, Lisa Genova’s Still Alice was rejected over one hundred times, at which point she self-published. It was picked up later and reissued by Simon and Schuster, but still. OVER ONE HUNDRED REJECTIONS. Kathryn’s Stockett went through sixty rejections over three and a half years before someone picked up The Help. New authors can be rejected dozens of times AT MINIMUM, and I just didn’t have it in me. Also, as mentioned before, I didn’t feel I had time.

So I decided that I was going to go the hybrid publishing route, which means that as an author, I would pay for editing services, cover design, and promotional and positioning assistance. I had done a cost-benefit analysis, being an economist, and decided this was the way to go. I had received a monetary gift from my parents for my fiftieth birthday, and I felt that there was no better way to spend it than to invest in something that had been a lifelong dream for me. My thinking was that even if I failed, even if I did not sell one single book, even if everyone who read it hated it, at least I would have tried. At least I would have accomplished something I always wanted to accomplish.

And I’m so glad I did, friends. I’m just so glad. Live your life with arms wide open! Do the thing, take the chance, dip your toe into the water. We don’t know how much time we’ve got, so let’s take advantage of life while we can.

Weekly Reading

As I alluded to last week, I had some great reads this week. Oh, I am excited to talk about them!

Heart the Lover. I have been waiting so long to read this and wow, it did not disappoint! I loved it so much. Lily King is such a talented writer; she conveys so much emotion in such a spare and economical way. This book is filled with emotion and absolutely heart-wrenching scenes. It shows us how choices affect our lives, and what it is like to take a turn at the fork in the road. It’s about past loves and current lives, and how mistakes, pride, regrets and lapses in judgement colour our world. She perfectly conveys what it is like to be in love at a young age, she perfectly conveys what it is like to build a life with a long-standing love. One thing I really loved is what it was like to have a long-distance relationship in the late 80s/ early 90s. It was HARD to get in touch with each other. Letters took a long time and phone calls were expensive. She smoothly moves between timelines in a deft and perfect way. I LOVED THIS BOOK.

Why We Can’t Sleep. My friend and book twin Anna (HI ANNA) had mentioned this book, and she said that it was both interesting and depressing. She was right on both counts! This is all about Gen X girls such as myself entering midlife, and all of the challenges we as a generation face. I found a lot of it relatable, although not all – some pieces seem to me to be uniquely American, such as crippling debt from student loans and medical bills, along with short or nonexistent unpaid maternity leaves. Still, there’s lots for us Canadian girlies to relate to. To me the most interesting part was the chapter entitled “The Very Filtered Profile Picture” for the discussion of body image and aging. I laughed – out loud! – at the quote “I’m not looking for inner peace,” a friend quipped when I asked her about why she skipped the resting stage of Savasana at the end of a yoga class. “I’m looking for outer hotness.” I also liked the discussion about seeing the task of living well in a negative, self-punishing way, such as “I should be exercising more/ eating better/ being the most mindful ever.” This was published in 2020, and I wondered what the author would say these days, post-pandemic, insane-news-cycle. Then I remembered she authored the WILD novel Crush, about polyamory, in 2025. Was that what was happening for her during the pandemic? I mean, I can only speculate.

Surfacing. CANLIT FOREVER! I don’t know how I got to this age, as a lifelong Margaret Atwood fan, without reading this book! This is the type of book that requires careful line reading and analysis; it contains a lot of symbolism, with themes of gender and national identity. This was published in 1972, which was a time of great importance for Canadian identity, as well as for feminism, and these parallel themes weave together in a story about a woman searching for her missing father in an island in northern Quebec. I really loved it.

Thank you to everyone who entered into the giveaway for a signed copy of Inhale Exhale; the winner of the random draw is Lorraine Anderson! Congratulations, Lorraine! I will contact you for your details. A huge thank you to everyone who has purchased a copy! If I may impose, it would be SO helpful if you left a (five star?) rating and review at Goodreads, Storygraph, or Amazon? Reviews are incredibly important, especially for new authors. And thank you all for being here. I hope you all have a beautiful week. xo

The Highlight Reel

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I ended 2025 as a War History Buff, having listened to every episode on the World Wars and the leadup to those wars and interesting one-offs like the Christmas truce of 1914 on the podcast The Rest is History. I learned so much! And now, here we are, fully into January 2026, and I have become obsessed with a podcast about Sweet Valley High, Double Love, in which two Irish women around my age deep dive into each book in the 180 book series.

Hopefully this isn’t having a negative impact on my brain. I hope all my World War knowledge won’t be nudged out by dramatic 80s teen antics, but I don’t see how it won’t be. I mean, Elizabeth gets kidnapped by an orderly while candy striping at the hospital, the very same hospital that Annie is recovering in after an intentional overdose following her failure to make the cheerleading squad, due to Jessica’s bullying and rumour-spreading. How can reality compete with THAT?

There is SO much drama. There are so many dances, and dates, and tragic events! It’s making my daily drudgery so much more enjoyable. Never have I been so entertained while folding the laundry. On the topic of drudgery, in a recent discussion about social media, a friend expressed astonishment that I follow a number of authors on Instagram. What could authors possibly be posting on Instagram? she wondered. Wouldn’t their lives just be boring, sitting in front of a laptop all day?

Well. I was quite perplexed by this question because really, what does anyone post on Instagram? Most, if not all of us lead very ordinary lives filled with many dull and monotonous tasks every single day, and what is Instagram for if not to highlight little glimmers that add sparkle to those lives? It feels like the social media equivalent of Mary Oliver-ing, of paying attention and being astonished. Yes, we might spend hours in front of a laptop screen, or folding laundry, or chopping vegetables, but that doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate our blooming amaryllis, or a sunset that knocks our socks off.

We might also appreciate how unhinged and weird Duolingo is these days.

Eddy! I am scandalized.

Not every moment is a flower or a sunset or even a weirdly sexual language app. But the truth is I actually DO love seeing the very mundane aspects of other people’s lives, and I probably WOULD enjoy seeing a whole scroll of photos of people typing busily away on laptops or folding laundry. And if a person posts a photo of their hair or outfit? I am HERE for it. I am nosy, is what I’m saying.

I have had a number of meetings lately with promotions and social media specialists, in advance of the release of Inhale Exhale, which is coming out next month, if you can believe it.

I’m very excited, of course, but am also practicing non-attachment. Sending creative work out into the world to be examined and critiqued and possibly loathed is a very vulnerable thing. This week I read The Ten Year Affair, which is one of the best books I have ever read, and guess what: it’s largely panned on Goodreads. I did what I never do, which was to read reviews, and I was absolutely shocked by them. Everyone has different tastes, of course, but I felt like so many of these reviewers completely missed the point of the book. I started to wonder if we had even read the same book, at which point I put my phone down and slowly backed away.

I was looking at my Ask Me Anything form and typing away at my laptop over the holiday break, when I looked up at my older son, who was milling around. My blog readers want me to talk about parenting adult children, I told him. But the thing is, I don’t really do anything. He shrugged. Maybe that’s the point, he said.

Putting a book out into the world feels a little bit like that. It feels like letting go and seeing what happens. I had so much fun writing it, and it turned out the way I wanted it to, and that feels like the whole point. It was pure joy to write, and I hope it brings joy to readers.

And if that doesn’t, maybe my next project will be Sweet Valley: The Midlife Years. A Botoxed Jessica gets lip fillers and they are way too overdone! The mole on Elizabeth’s shoulder has changed, and it turns out all those years of tanning on the beach were unwise! Lila’s getting her third divorce after having an affair with the guy who cleans her pool! Everyone’s skin has turned to leather! Todd’s depressed because his dreams of being a basketball star amounted to nothing and now he spends his days watching General Hospital and eating onion dip! Bruce Patman gets drunk and drives his Porsche off a bridge! Can Roger, who against all odds did make it to medical school and is now a renowned emergency medicine doctor, save him? Tune in!

Weekly Reading

Of course, anyone who follows my Instagram knows that my feed is largely made up of books that I’ve read, but one thing I don’t do is talk about my DNFs. This is mostly because, in the past, I rarely DNF a book, but that is going to CHANGE in 2026, people. I am going to DNF whenever I feel like it! And I had one this week, but I will say I hesitated greatly before putting it aside, and that is because this is a book that actually lives on my shelves. I bought a copy of The Dud Avocado after a friend recommended it, because the library didn’t have a copy. Maybe it’s because I started it after The Ten Year Affair, and I was adrift not knowing what to read after a masterpiece, but it just seemed stupid to me. But I didn’t want to abandon it because I spent money on it. This is very silly. It’s a sunk cost and if the worst comes to the worst and I never pick it up again, I can give it to a Little Free Library, where hopefully it will be loved, or at least tolerated, by someone else.

Best Laid Plans. From Childhood Reread Week to Important Adult Behaviour! Some of you may already know this author as Sarah from The Shu Box– she is part of the blogging community and also a podcaster (HI SHU). It was great to “hear” her voice on these pages. There are a lot of takeaways here for planning and organizing one’s life to achieve goals. The book has templates for annual, seasonal, monthly, weekly, and daily planning, but my favourite part was seeing quotes and anecdotes about my friends in the blogging community, shoutout to Jenny, Lisa, Elisabeth, and Kae. I felt starstruck! I KNOW THEM! (HI JENNY LISA ELISABETH KAE).

The Ten Year Affair. As noted above! Wow wow WOW. Friends, this book blew me away. Absolutely blew me away. It follows a woman who escapes the drudgery and disappointment in her life by having an affair…but only in her mind. This mental affair with a man she meets at baby playgroup lasts for years, and then the lines blur from fantasy to reality. At the end of the day this book is about the sublime and also the mediocre, the little boring ordinary details that make up a life and also the striving to make something extraordinary. The characters are complete and nuanced, and there is a lot of subtext and unwritten backstory that makes this a literary gem. It is also really, really funny. I cannot say enough about this book except that it is truly an exceptional read about a non-exceptional world. A perfect book!

Games and Rituals. After I finished The Ten Year Affair, I was in a bit of a slump, a bit bereft, a bit “what now.” So I stared at my bookshelves and saw my Katherine Heiny books and thought YES. YES, that was exactly what I needed, to reread a collection of pure delight. Friends, I cannot say enough about this author and her ability to convey deep emotion and build worlds in only a few sentences – her writing is so tight, so smart, so evocative, and so incredibly funny. This collection of short stories is just one wonderful read after another. Every single one is perfect and absolutely delightful and made me both laugh out loud and stare at the wall thoughtfully.

Happy Monday, friends. I hope you are all taking care of yourselves in these very distressing days. May I suggest listening to Sweet Valley High recaps to dissociate from the news? It works like a charm. Take care, friends. xo

Makeup As Self Care

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I was chatting with my dear friends Hannah and Allison last week (HI HANNAH HI ALLISON) about the skin care regimes of our youth. How, I ask you, do we even have skin after the 80s? I don’t know what you were doing in 1988, but in addition to pinning my future on being a mayor of an undisclosed jurisdiction, I was also using a Buf Puf to apply St Ives Apricot Scrub to my face twice daily, and following that procedure with a bracing application of Sea Breeze. Hannah and I recalled also applying toothpaste and rubbing alcohol to our pimples, and all I can say is that I’m glad my skin has forgiven me my trespasses.

My skin care routine has evolved greatly since those days, but my love of makeup, and my basic makeup procedure remains the same. Since I started wearing makeup circa 1987, I have always maintained a dark eye and a dark lip, although I do not wear Revlon’s Love That Red anymore.

This perfectly sums up “Nicole at Sixteen.” This was my favourite outfit of all time – Canadian girls of a certain age will remember Le Chateau, dream store, and I adored this swing top with a matching miniskirt. I mean, I’d probably still wear it now. And of course, Love That Red! Note the spiral perm.

In my younger years I was made to feel a lot of shame about my love for makeup, vanity being a grave character flaw. But for me, makeup is actually self-care. I do not feel ready for my day without my makeup on, and I refuse to feel badly about that. I wear a full face of makeup every single day, no matter what I am doing, no matter who I am seeing or not seeing, and no matter where I am going or not going. It’s such an important part of my day. I cannot write unless I am showered, dressed, made up, and sitting at my desk. Basically I can’t function without that routine. And yes, I probably do think that song is about me, but it’s more than that, it makes me feel good about myself. I guess I work from the outside in.

Last month my friends Elisabeth and Sarah (HI ELISABETH HI SARAH) posted about their makeup routines; Elisabeth’s specifically is “3 Minute, Cheap, and Minimal.” I would say mine would be whatever the opposite of that is, although to be fair, it probably only takes about ten minutes. It’s not minimal, and it’s not particularly cheap, although I do use some drugstore products. The only time that I would say it is minimal and takes three minutes is post-exercise, pre-walking the dog, where I put on a mere four products: SPF moisturizer, pressed powder, mascara, and tinted lip balm.

My post-walk-and-shower face includes many more products:

First I put on undereye cream (currently Neutrogena Caffeine) and the Ordinary serum on my forehead.

Then comes Smashbox Primer and Ilia Super Serum Skin Tint with SPF 40, although between early morning walks and general winter cloudiness, my face hasn’t been really exposed to the sun since Morocco.

You can take the girl out of the 80s, but you can’t take the 80s out of the girl: this is too dewy for me to leave it on its own. Matte face is part of my deeply ingrained sense of self, and so I add L’Oreal pressed powder.

The eyes are what takes the most time, and I use an Annabelle liner in dark brown plus Maybelline’s The Falsies Surreal in black. Or meta black, or whatever ridiculous shade of black I happen to pick up.

Next up, L’Oreal blush and Maybelline Express Brow to smooth out the greying, patchy eyebrows.

And then to finish it off, I put on some lipstick, and I have many brands that I like, but Maybelline Ultimatte in Taupe is my favourite. Pictured is Clinique’s famous Black Honey.

You know those quizzes where you are asked what three things – products, books, food items – you would take with you if you were to be stranded on a desert island? I hate those quizzes, probably because I think way too hard about them. I get actually stressed, thinking what would I cut, the eyeliner or the lipstick? I can’t cut the SPF! I mean, the probability that I am going to be stranded on a desert island with my choice of three things is, as we say in statistical analysis, approaching zero, and even if I was, I would probably be desperately trying to survive rather than rereading three favourite books. If I’m going to be stranded on a desert island, I am going to be Mrs Howell, or I’m not doing it.

Weekly Reading

Speaking of my wayward youth, I decided this week would be Childhood Reread Week in the Boyhouse, and wow, was it fun. Here we go!

Eight Cousins and Rose In Bloom. From the author of my number-one childhood book, Little Women, these books were loved (as you can clearly see) by me. I decided this would be the week to revisit childhood favourites and I can see why I loved them so much: Rose is an heiress and an orphan who is brought up by her sea merchant uncle, and she has a whole passel of aunts and cousins as well. Her uncle has some pretty radical ideas about girls and women – namely, that they are not memerly ornaments but actual humans with brains and spirits and flaws, and should engage in outdoor exercise and shun corsets and other unhealthy things. Well, it was wildly radical back in the 1870s. Anyway, it was a fun reread, other than the very weird and unsettling plotline that all the aunts are proponents of Rose marrying one of her cousins to keep her fortune in the family. That part is not great. But the description of gowns and ballroom dances? Yes please.

Sweet Valley High Box Set Volumes 5-8. Wow, did I ever have a skewed idea of what high school would be like, when I read these in Grades 4 and 5. I mean, I basically NEVER went to the beach in my red Fiat Spider. Because I didn’t have one and also I lived in Calgary. There is a wild amount of death and near date rape in these books, and also a lot of bikinis. I recommend these as a hilarious reread, if only for the descriptions of the clothing and the references to Bo Derek. It’s well worth the 45 minutes it takes to read each book. First we have All Night Long, where Jessica narrowly escapes date rape after being at a party – that lasted ALL NIGHT LONG – with a college age boy, who sports a very sexy moustache. Worse luck, she misses her test to become a…tour guide of sorts? I don’t know. Elizabeth saves the day by doing the whole twin thing and pretending to be Jessica but a fight with Todd means she’s TOO UPSET to do well on the test. She makes up with Todd only to find out that…Dangerous Love: Todd has bought a motorcycle! And Elizabeth is NOT allowed on it, because her cousin (Rexy!!!) DIED in a motorcycle accident. But she’s scared to tell him. Finally she does and it’s okay, he’ll just give other girls rides. ON HIS MOTORBIKE, PEOPLE. But then he decides to sell it. Elizabeth goes for broke and decides she’s going to have one ride before the bike is gone, but, in a crazy twist of irony, they are hit by a drunk driver, and that drunk driver is the very person who was going to buy the motorcycle! And now Elizabeth’s in a coma. Is she going to make it? Dear Sister: Well, she wakes up but her personality is changed! Now she’s just like Jessica. She’s out-Jessica-ing Jessica and will have NOTHING to do with Todd. And she ends up almost being date-raped by Bruce Patman (1BRUCE1) but as he’s fetching them unlawful alcohol, she slips, falls, and hits her head – and she’s back to being Elizabeth! Escape from Bruce, Elizabeth! But as Elizabeth is being Jessica, Jessica is being Elizabeth, and winning over Bill, the surfer guy. Heart Breaker: But Jessica really doesn’t want anything to do with Bill, she’s just getting back at him for turning her down for a long-ago Sadie Hawkins dance. Jessica, like an elephant, never forgets. They are in the school play together and the worm turns when a Hollywood scout watches it and thinks that Bill is the next Robert Redford. Well! Jessica is now actually interested but too late, because Bill is going out with DeeDee the surfer girl. Unfortunately we will never know what happens next because I don’t have any more volumes. Will Lila really go out with Roger? Probably not; she’s rich and he works as a janitor so his family can pay the rent, and we do NOT cross socioeconomic lines in Sweet Valley.

Charlotte’s Web. I am finishing Childhood Reread Week with a classic – this isn’t my childhood copy, I don’t think I even had a copy, but I read it to my kids when they were little. And they don’t remember it at all except that the spider dies. But not before she saves the life of Wilbur the pig! No wonder I have an affinity for farm animals and spiders. Don’t squish them! They have a job to do, people!

I was informed that there is a podcast called Double Trouble which deep dives every single book and you can bet I will be listening to it along with Listen To Sassy, just to relive my youth. The good parts of my youth! Not the Sea Breeze and rubbing alcohol. Again, I am sending out gratitude to my face for still existing after all that agony. I hope you are all having a beautiful week, friends. xo

My Hours of Rest and Relaxation

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I have long believed that to be healthy we need to balance the yin and yang in our lives, and if we do not get enough yin – rest, recovery, rejuvenation – then our bodies force us to, in the form of illness or injury. And indeed, any time I look back on my life and remember times when I was completely taken out by a virus or, in one spectacularly debilitating case in 2019, injury, I absolutely know that the time preceding that was one of stress and exhaustion.

Sometimes that can’t be helped, of course. I had two babies in less than eighteen months and the second one was colicky, and the ensuing sleeplessness and generalized exhaustion was beyond my control. However, there are many times in my life when I had sleeplessness and generalized exhaustion and it WAS in my control; I am a high-energy person and I have a tendency to Do More, Push Through, Just Keep Swimming, etcetera. If I don’t balance that level of activity and energy expenditure with adequate rest, disaster ensues. It’s a lesson I’ve had to relearn many times.

And so these days I am very tender with myself, I take care of myself like I would a small child. I make sure I am nourishing myself on every level: I ensure that I’m getting the proper sleep, that I’m resting emotionally and mentally, that I have adequate nutrition and hydration, and that I am spending time with people who fill up my soul.

Recently a number of friends mentioned that they feel a deep sense of guilt when relaxing, that they feel taking time to read or do other quiet solo activities feels “lazy,” and, although this wasn’t said outright, intimated that they really need to be productive to feel valued. I have been thinking about that a lot lately, particularly since reading The Relaxed Woman, which is affirming, transformative, and inspirational, and everyone should read it. I am going to become a Relaxed Woman evangelist, is what I’m saying.

But something really resonated with me, both with these conversations with my friends and also by reading The Relaxed Woman, and that is this feeling that in order to rest, we need to earn it, we do not deserve rest on its own.

I read Bridget Jones’s Diary when it came out in paperback, circa 1997, and at the time I found it hilariously funny and deeply relatable. There is a part where Bridget is talking with her friend Tom about her daily intake of calories.

“A thousand?” said Tom, incredulously. “But I thought you needed two thousand just to survive.”

I looked at him nonplussed. I realized that I have spend so many years being on a diet that the idea that you might actually need calories to survive has been completely wiped out of my consciousness. Have reached point where believe nutritional ideal is to eat nothing at all, and that the only reason people eat is because they are so greedy they cannot stop themselves from breaking out and ruining their diets.

So funny, back in 1997! So relatable! Look at us disgusting people, greedily eating food! I want to travel back in time and hug myself. This is especially relevant at this time of year, when eating regimes and body ideals abound: we don’t need to earn food. We deserve to eat just by existing on this planet, and similarly, we deserve to rest. We have value in who we are, not what we can do, not in how productive we are or how how much we can squeeze into a day, particularly for the benefit of other people.

Instead of asking, “Have I worked hard enough to deserve to rest?,” I’ve started asking, “Have I rested enough to do my most loving and meaningful work?” – The Relaxed Woman

I love January; I love the fresh-start energy of the month. I love having a fresh new planner and notebook, and plans on how to fill them. Today is where your book begins, the rest is still unwritten. But there is a balance between productivity and rest, and resting is not lazy. Giving our bodies, minds, and souls respite is not lazy. Taking time for ourselves in whatever ways we need is not selfish. We wouldn’t drive a car for every moment of the day and then be angry when it ran out of gas. We would just fill it with gas.

I think we have all internalized this ideal of Superwoman, that we can do everything at all times: we can parent perfectly and work hard and keep a spotless house and be thin and fit and gorgeous and whip up three perfect meals a day and it all looks Instagram-worthy at every moment. This Superwoman ideal, says the author of The Relaxed Woman, harms women by perpetuating the myth that women really don’t need to rest or to take time for themselves; they can do everything for everyone and put themselves last, always, and happily. It is anti-feminist, and so damaging to celebrate this idea that we can just work ourselves into the ground and be lauded for it, like modern day martyrs.

This poster, along with one depicting a fish and a bicycle, were on my office wall when I was in grad school, and although both concepts were over two decades old at the time, I still felt they were relevant, and mostly are still relevant to this day.

We have normalized the idea that a woman’s work is never done and I feel that in 2026, we should stop that. This is the month where we are all enthusiastically setting goals, and I do think that’s great. We can aim to improve areas of our lives while still taking time for ourselves without guilt, without shame, without feeling lazy or unworthy. Our work can be done. We can rest, in whatever way “resting” means.

My goals are, as every year, evergreen and unchanging, along with being extremely nebulous and difficult to quantify: ideas like being present and practicing patience, living life with arms wide open and go placidly amidst the noise and haste and remember what peace there may be in silence. Daily I subscribe to my REM Y REM practice, which stands for Reading, Exercise, Meditation, Yoga, and REM sleep; without those restful things I cannot be my best self and I cannot show up in the way that I want to.

In this month of goals and intentions and fresh starts, my wish is that we all know we are deserving of rest without having to “earn” it first, that we can aim for the stars AND take tender care of ourselves, that feelings of guilt and shame over resting and relaxing can dissipate, and that we become the person that our younger selves needed.

Weekly Reading

Radical Acceptance. Speaking of meditation! What a perfect choice for the first book of 2026! To be honest, I have been very slowly reading this book for the past several months, and just happened to finish it today. The lessons in Radical Acceptance are beautiful and loving; basically, for all you yogis and meditators out there, it’s about practicing loving kindness towards ourselves and others, and gives very practical advice on how to do that, using many very relatable examples. The author is not preachy, but instead – as you might expect – loving and kind in her writing. One great takeaway is the RAIN approach toward negative emotions: Recognize, Accept, Investigate, and Nourish. This really spoke to me and has helped me through some emotionally turbulent times. 

Moral Disorder. Of course I had to reread Moral Disorder after reading Margaret Atwood’s memoir! This is the most auto-fiction of all her collections, and it is one of my favourites. I love this glimpse of her life through interconnected stories, both from third and first person points of view.

After two solid weeks of intense and intentional rest – extra sleep, extra reading, lots of puzzles – I feel refreshed and ready to get back into my regular routine. Hello January! I hope you all are similarly rejuvenated and have taken – and are taking – adequate rest. xo

Holiday Roundup and Reading 2025

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Happy New Year, friends! The tree is down and the various decorations are back in their bins for another year, the house is clean, and I’m slowly and gently nudging myself back into my regular routine. I have had, as mentioned, a restful few weeks filled with restorative yoga, long dog walks, reading, and putting together puzzles.

I have also been cooking.

In my recent Ask Me Anything, Coco (HI COCO) asked what is the division of labour in your household, with your husband, and I will say that since he retired it is quite equitable. Prior to his retirement, the house, and the health and welfare of the inhabitants were strictly My Department, with the exception of Home Repairs, which were in his jurisdiction. In general, I was the Department of Health, Welfare, and Education. These days the kids are grown and my husband has the time to do all sorts of domestic duties, but there is one thing that remains the same: I am the Department of Nutrition. I do all the grocery shopping and I do all the meal planning, without exception I make dinner every day and I ensure that there are ingredients for lunch and breakfasts, which are fend-for-yourself affairs around here, and have been for many, many years. In turn, my husband and whichever son happens to be around clean the kitchen after dinner. It is a system that works well for us, as I truly enjoy cooking and I also like wielding the power of being the Person in Charge of the Meal Plan.

But during the holidays, when there are so many Special Meals, I wish I had a break from this food dictatorship of my own making.

It’s my own fault: my husband can cook and is more than willing to help, but as I am person who cooks with zero recipes and just flings things together, it’s hard to delegate. Sprinkle in some cumin. I don’t know how much. I also think that it’s impossible to get delegate the mental heavy lifting of figuring out what we are going to eat for a week and then procuring all the ingredients for them. I just want someone to magically make me exactly what I want without asking me what that is, and for that person to time travel backward to get the required groceries. Is that too much to ask? And listen, I know. I know that takeout exists and restaurants exist and we certainly COULD utilize those modern innovations, but they still require effort and I want it to be effortless.

Along with a chauffeur, Mike Vrabel, and an array of buskers who follow me around knowing exactly what songs I want to hear at the exact right time, I also want someone to read my mind and procure exactly what I want to eat every day – but only during the holidays, when it feels like meals have to be More Special Than Usual. The rest of the time I can, and want to, manage that on my own.

Our equitable division of labour does not extend to travel planning. Coco also asked how do you plan your travels, and this is what I do: absolutely nothing. Well, that’s not true. I will say, for example, I’ve always wanted to go to Morocco, and then, magically, I go to Morocco! I don’t know if this is how my family feels when dinner is always ready and delicious at the same time every night, but it’s kind of magical to have a husband who researches, plans, and then executes all our trips. I’m sure he occasionally wearies of the load – heavy is the head who wears the Travel or Meal Planning Crown – but in general he enjoys it and is good at it.

For my money, a good partnership has a nice balance of a Person Who Wants To Be A Dictator Of A Certain Thing, and a Person Who Goes With The Flow. For my husband, it’s oh, it’s stir-fry night, great! and for me, it’s where are we going again? You sent me the itinerary? Did I look at it? Two people cannot be both 100% in charge of dinner, and two people cannot be 100% in charge of travel planning. Alternately, two people cannot be so laissez-faire about either of those things, or neither of them would happen.

Speaking of which, my husband and I watched a movie on Netflix called Lonely Planet, which takes place in a writers’ retreat IN MOROCCO. Not only was the movie visually stunning, but we were in most of the places. We were there! We were right there! we kept saying to each other over and over. It is also a romance between Laura Dern and Liam Hemsworth and believe you me, I was here for it. HOO BOY. Sexytimes! There was a lot about writing processes, and the challenges faced, and I really cannot recommend it enough.

Laura and Liam were exactly here!
And here!
AND HERE! OMG!!!

Holiday Reading

In 2025, I read 153 books and 91% of those were written by women. The two male authors that I read this last week of December bumped that percentage down, but as is my wont, the male authors are gay and/ or British.

Calypso. In the leadup to Christmas, I had finished all my library books and wanted something light to read, on the heels of Wave, which was the opposite of light. I decided to reread an old favourite; this is my absolute number one Sedaris collection, and I love it so much. I will say that, after reading Happy Go Lucky, I found much of it poignant and sad. If you know, you know.

What Matters in Jane Austen. This deep dive into the work of Jane Austen is RIGHT up my alley! This is NOT meant for the person who read Pride and Prejudice once and liked it. This is for the Super Fan – like me! It really gets into the weeds – what card games the characters play, what characters never talk, what incomes reflect – and I am here for it. It’s extremely detailed and I loved it! 

Book of Lives: A Memoir of Sorts. I have been a Margaret Atwood fan for decades, and I have been nosily curious about her life for almost as long, gleaning what I could from her many wonderful novels and short stories. I particularly pored over Cat’s Eye, The Edible Woman, Bluebeard’s Egg, and Moral Disorder as providing clues about her fascinating life – indeed, she has lived many lives, as the title suggests, and as we all do. I will say that particularly after Moral Disorder, I wondered what drew her to Graeme Gibson, and her memoir provides some insight to that, although he seemed to me to be a man with a lot of baggage and difficulties. Red flags abound in every way! However, the heart wants what it wants, even if Amy March and I both disagree with the sentiment that you can’t choose who you fall in love with. In any case, it was so interesting to read about Atwood and Gibson working with others to really put CanLit in the spotlight; they did so much for Canadian literature and the publishing industry. Atwood’s early life, a source of much fascination for me, is described in detail, as are her various writing processes for her various books. I was so happy to read how she wrote my beloved favourites, and in particular, my number-one favourite of all time, The Blind Assassin. Friends, this work of art was panned by the New York Times, proof that reviewers often get it terribly wrong. In any case, Atwood is a NATIONAL TREASURE and this memoir is everything I could have ever hoped for, and more.

Goodness, I meant for this just to be a brief roundup of the books I read over the holidays, and look what happened. I guess when I take a break, a lot of thoughts pile up for the old blog. I hope you have a wonderful weekend, friends, and I’ll be talking all things rest and relaxation on Monday. xo

Nostalgic Festive Chaos

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I love looking around other people’s houses, and I love seeing all the little touches that make a house a home: photos and artwork, knickknacks and book stacks, colour and materials and furniture. I particularly love it during the holiday season when I think homes reflect the personalities of the inhabitants. My personal theme for holiday decor is Nostalgic Festive Chaos. Nothing need match, and indeed, it’s preferred if it doesn’t!

My tree in particular is a historical record of our family. We add at least one ornament every year, something that speaks in some way to the year that has passed. When the kids were younger, my parents would give each of them an ornament that would also reflect their interests that year, which means we have everything on our tree from Lightning McQueen and Thomas the Tank Engine to Roman Reigns as a snowman, the latter of which careful readers might be able to discern in the photo above.

Every ornament has a story; sometimes the stories are simply that I took my preschoolers on an outing to Walmart and we ended up with stuffed decorative snowmen, and sometimes the stories are more involved and emotional.

The Santa in the middle came from Rome, the white and red ball in the very bottom right-hand corner came from Tofino the year of the Vancouver Olympics, and the ball beside the snowman came from my best friend Jen (HI JEN).

This year’s new ornaments came from a ceramics factory tour in Fes: the goat and the hand of Fatima. My friend Sandi (HI SANDI) brought me that snowman with a Scottish cow from her trip to Scotland; she has the same one, so when I look at the ornament I feel extra connected to her. My sweet friend Michelle (HI MICHELLE) sent me the handmade gnome, my friend Sharyl’s husband (HI SHARYL) carved the little snowman in the bottom left corner, and the Clue ornament came from my parents, after many, many games of Clue with the boys at their house one summer. Each of the four snow globes has a family member’s name on it, and the narwhal was our ornament from 2020, because I could not bear to have anything on the tree that reminded me of masks or Covid or isolation. A narwhal seemed much the better choice! Bye Buddy! Hope you find your dad!

One of the most marvellous things about having children is that their personalities are all their own. One of my sons dutifully hangs all his childhood craft ornaments, most notably the kindergarten photo of him in a Santa hat mounted on a CD and surrounded by glitter, but he puts them on the very back of the tree, unperceived by anyone. The other son insists on having his preschool angel in the most visible spot on the tree. Every year we laugh at it, because the face. The face is like something out of a horror movie. This year it’s next to our Barkley ornament, and close to Bob Ross, even if it is as unartistic as can be. I love how different my boys are in this respect. It’s like the New Year’s that they came home from the same party: one of them was the designated driver, who made sure everyone got home safely, and the other one was missing his shirt.

Twenty-five years ago, my husband and I were visiting his parents and I gathered these gigantic pine cones from this very property, so it feels very full-circle to have them on the table in this house. I have displayed them in this bowl for twenty-five Christmases now.

I have had this Nativity scene for even longer; I bought the figures in Mexico in 1997, and every year setting up the creche is an event. The gnome in the background was given to me by my friend Sammi (HI SAMMI) on the first Christmas we lived here, and behind the creche is a bowl of rocks and driftwood from a long-ago trip to Vancouver Island, which is displayed year round, and to which I add some ornaments from my husband’s childhood. I have to be careful though, because ornaments from the 60s are VERY fragile. I have, sadly, shattered a few accidentally.

In my last office Christmas party before resigning, the executive assistant to the CEO had made – by hand – one of these felt snowmen for every one of the 150 people at the party. The work that went into that astounds me, but then, I am unable to even sew on a button, as evidenced by the missing buttons on these fellows. Buttonless or not, I display them every year in honour of my former career and for the tireless woman who always went above and beyond in every way. The vase and candlesticks were wedding gifts from my husband’s company, and I like to fill the former with ornaments that are missing hooks or are otherwise unsuitable for the tree.

I had many worries when we moved into this house two years ago, and one of the most consuming worries was where are we going to hang the stockings. I definitely had better things to worry about than not having a mantel, however, I will say that I am pleased with this stocking placement. The low-key Advent calendar was bought on one of those I must get out of the house with preschoolers trip to Walmart, to ceremoniously count down to Christmas.

Last, but definitely not least in this tour of Nostalgic Festive Chaos is this pair of candles that I purchased from London Drugs in 1999 for our new apartment. The snowman has a bite taken out of his hat, courtesy of my then-teething older son, when he was eight months old.

Speaking of bites and chaos, this weekend was our Annual Gingerbread Decorating.

Weekly Reading

HOLD ONTO YOUR HATS. This week’s list is CHAOS.

Wild Dark Shore. Wow, what an ending! There are so many twists in this book and I didn’t see ANY of them coming! My friend Suzanne (HI SUZANNE), who loved this book enormously, warned me nervously that it is “dystopian-adjacent” and it IS. It is just teetering on the edge of dystopian which, of course, is something I avoid at all costs. Why, though? Suzanne asked me what it is about dystopian novels that are a big NOPE for me, and I really had to think about it. What is it? I think it’s the despair and the futuristic feel. I also think that climate-change dystopian novels – of which this is one – give me anticipatory anxiety. The thought that this COULD happen is really, really scary for me and I’d rather not read about it. HOWEVER. Like she said – and I agree – this is more dystopian-ADJACENT, and if the story was not so compelling and the writing so beautiful, I probably would have abandoned it. The story itself, and the message of a family fighting for each other, and the hope that goes into just living when the world around you is being destroyed, was a message that I really liked. The twists and turns were also so well done! So while this is a book that is upsetting in idea – people taking care of a seed bank off the coast of Antarctica, seeds that are being saved for the end of the world as we know it – the story itself was both beautiful and thrilling.

The Face on the Milk Carton. Another one from my friend Suzanne (HI SUZANNE, again) who had read this with her daughter. What happens when a girl recognizes her younger self as a “missing child” on the side of a milk carton? Was she kidnapped? Memories start to surface for her and she seeks the truth. This is a YA book and I would say it’s for slightly older tweens, as there is a surprising (for me) amount of sex talk between the 15 year old protagonist and her boyfriend. Actually her boyfriend is a bit of a sex pest, which feels accurate. I remember this phenomenon from being a 15 year old girl myself in 1990, when this was published.

Wave. When I read about this book on my friend Julie’s blog (HI JULIE) I thought it was a novel about a woman who, along with her parents, husband, and two small children, was caught in the tsunami in Sri Lanka 2004. She was the only survivor. I was surprised, then, when I picked it up to see it is not a novel but a MEMOIR. And it is very raw, as you can well imagine, the descriptions of actually being swept away and then dealing with the sudden death of all her family members. Eventually the woman goes on to heal, but it is obviously very painful in every way. A remarkable story and one that is devastating. 

The Relaxed Woman. I have not felt this way about a book since I read Your Body, Your Best Friend in August 2020. I wondered if this woman and I actually share a brain and, interestingly enough, she is also an Ashtanga yogi and meditation practitioner. Maybe we are long-lost sisters! This incredibly affirming, uplifting, inspirational, and also very smart and well-researched book examines the guilt and shame that we as women are conditioned to feel when we require rest and restoration. It examines the very damaging ideal of “Superwoman,” the woman who can do it all and push through everything in order to be as efficient and productive as possible. It shows that not only is the Superwoman mindset terribly damaging to our personal physical, mental, and emotional health – not to mention our relationships and actual quality of work – but it is also damaging to feminism and women as a whole. When we refuse to take the rest our bodies, minds, and souls need, we are perpetuating this myth that we need to “earn” rest, just like we need to “earn” calories. It’s just wrong. We don’t need to EARN anything, we deserve it just by being humans on this earth. And in fact, we need it. Our bodies need it, our souls need it, our minds need it. This shows how constant “busyness” damages our physical health – including metabolism – and our minds, with brain fog and cognitive decline. The book blends neuroscience and psychology to show – without victim blaming that can often rear its head in these types of books, I’m looking at you, Dr Mate – how to journey towards becoming a Relaxed Woman. There are very practical and gentle suggestions in this book, and if I was a billionaire, I would buy one for every woman on this earth. I am not, sadly, and so I will just buy my own copy and tell everyone about it. I put sticky notes in for reference but then realized the entire book is a sticky note. I have so much more to say about this, but will write a blog post about it – but not until January, because I am RESTING.

Yes, I am resting – I am taking a holiday break and will be back for my annual roundup on New Year’s Eve. Until then, friends, take care of yourselves and I hope you all have a beautiful holiday season. xo

Acts of Service

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While decorating the tree and the interior of the house is firmly a whole-family affair, putting up the outdoor lights and decorations are solely in my husband’s jurisdiction, with some help from one or both of our sons. He was finishing setting them up a few weeks ago, and when I looked out the kitchen window I saw him hanging a large red ball on our heart tree, a miniature tree whose branches grow in a downward swoop. I knew immediately what he was doing and I ran outside, with Rex at my heels. Is that a Charlie Brown Christmas tree? I squealed, and he said that it was.

In my recent Ask Me Anything (still open!), Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) asked: How did you know your husband was The One? At this point in time, my husband has been a part of my life for longer than he hasn’t. We were friends for almost two years before we started dating, and by “dating,” I mean “having sex,” since we had spent much time in each other’s company on platonic dates prior to that. How did you go from friends to more than friends? someone asked me, when I related my husband’s apparent 20 month seduction plan. Um, we were supposed to go see The Full Monty but ended up having sex? I guess I saw A Full Monty, if not The Full Monty.

Anyway, by that time, I knew that he was everything I wanted in a man: he was, and is, very smart, logical, and handy, fun to be around and to do things with but also responsible and serious, and, not incidentally, incredibly attractive. I would say that all of those attributes – especially his attractiveness – have only increased with age and time. In addition to that, when it comes to love languages we share the same one, which makes marriage and life a lot easier, and that is Acts of Service.

My husband does many things every day just to make me happy. Sometimes these are big things, like building an entire garden complete with garden boxes from scratch, but sometimes they are smaller things, like taking my car out just to fill it with gas. And sometimes it is putting up Christmas lights and creating a Charlie Brown tree that I can see from my kitchen window.

For the past fifteen years or more, my husband has set the timer for our Christmas lights so that they not only come on in the late afternoon, but also at 4:30 in the morning, so I can look at them when I have my coffee and practice yoga. It’s those kinds of little things that make a happy marriage, I think.

Marriage is an interesting thing; if you’re lucky, it goes on a long time and you can grow and change together while still maintaining the core of who you are as an individual. And it goes through so many stages over the years and decades: there are choppy waters and smooth sailing, there are times when you can’t keep your hands off each other and times when you’re so exhausted by babies and toddlers that you can’t abide more touching. There are times when life is so busy and so stressful that you feel like semi-amiable roommates who fuck once in a while. But then there’s a time when you just feel so fortunate to have found one another, and hopefully that time lasts for most, if not all, of the marriage.

No matter what endeavor I come up with, my husband is supportive. I have only to mention that I want to go somewhere or do something, and by the time I turn around he’s knee-deep in research about how to make it happen. Although, I will say he is less than enthusiastic about my recent world war obsession. How long will this go on? he asked in a tone that can only be described as “despairing,” when I mentioned Blitzkrieg. You’re only on Blitzkrieg? The war has barely started! You’ve been talking about this for weeks! I didn’t have the heart to tell him it’s an ongoing series and they drop new episodes all the time. My son suggested that this was going to be our new reality, and I will be talking about war for the rest of our lives. God, I hope not. I miss the person I used to be back in November, listening to podcasts about skin care, before I became a Military Strategist. At this time of year I should be listening to podcasts about holiday fashion and parties, or the best books of 2025, and instead I just downloaded four hours’ worth of episodes about the assassination of Franz Ferdinand.

Weekly Reading

I had a great week of reading, but I have to mention that I had a DNF this week. It’s been my goal to DNF more when a book is not hitting, so I can spend time with books I love, rather than…not. The book in question was The Egg and I; it had potential but there were three racist slurs within the first two chapters of this supposedly humourous book, and that was just three too many. I know it’s “of its time” but no thanks.

The Road To Tender Hearts. In the Acknowledgements section, the author says of the house she lived in from 2020-2021, “that rental house gave us two gas leaks, two basement floods, a gang of rats who nested in our car and caused $1400 in damage (not covered by insurance because the car “didn’t explode” FU GEICO), black mold on the walls, lead in the water, three trees that the arborist said were going to fall on the house after he came to cut down one, poison ivy that blanketed the yard, a neighbor who stabbed her sister on the day we moved in, and a teenager who crashed his car driving too fast and died at the base of our driveway. When we moved out, I sent the new tenant a message to make sure she filtered her water, and she wrote back: “Did you ever have any paranormal experiences in this house?” “No,” I wrote back. “But that could explain some things.””
Now, if this paragraph made you laugh a horrified coughing laugh like it did for me, then you must read this book immediately. Because while she doesn’t write about a house that’s actively trying to kill her, she does say she wanted to write a book about every single terrible and traumatic thing she could think about…but funny. And did she ever. This book is the weirdest heart-warming delight of a book about all the journeys to death one can have, and I loved it with all of my (tender) heart. 

Wreck. The poem that starts “Your children are not your children” by Kahlil Gibran came to mind a lot while I was reading this book. “You may give them your love, but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts.” On the surface this – much anticipated for me, I love Catherine Newman! – book is about a woman grappling with a strange autoimmune diagnosis and her own mortality, while also coming to terms with a fatal accident in her town that is only tangentially connected to her and her family. But to me it was about loving and accepting people even when their lives and choices are different from your own, and what it is like to be a mother of adult children. I will say that my favourite parts of this book were the scenes with the local Buy Nothing group. Did that ever take me back to my Calgary days! “To gift: leftover pizza from my kid’s birthday party. To gift: coconut milk, expired six months ago. To gift: a variety of Sephora samples.” (That last one was me). Thanks again to my friend Lisa (HI LISA) for sending me a SIGNED and personalized copy of this book!

Because of Winn-Dixie. Oddly enough, this book is referenced extensively in Save The Cat! Writes a Novel, and so I decided to pick it up. It’s about a girl who adopts a big dog who subsequently won’t let her out of his sight and also makes her life immeasurably better. Relatable! It’s a very sweet story about letting people into your life, not judging people for their past but for their present actions, and that everyone has sadness within. I wondered why I hadn’t ever read this lovely little book as a child and then realized I was twenty-five when it was published.

This is by no means a flex because none of us have control over the weather, but we have been having such a mild December, with drizzly rain and, other than one short-lived day, no snow. Looking at photos of my friends from Alberta, Ontario, Saskatchewan and the Midwestern US, I feel like I’m on an entirely different planet. Although this is my third December living here, I am still not used to rain in December. Maybe I never will get used to it! In any case, every day we are edging closer to the least amount of daylight – just over eight hours now, sunset at 3:56, sunrise at 7:47 – which makes the outdoor lights even more of a gift. Have a beautiful week, friends. xo