Off the Page
A blog on Canadian writing, reading, and everything in between

Dazzling Memoirs
Marjorie Simmins, author of MEMOIR: CONVERSATIONS AND CRAFTS, recommends her dream lineup of memoirs.

For Fans of Grisham, Munro, Wolitzer, Shriver, and More
Isn't it great when you find a new author or series that fits your reading taste to a tee? Here are a few new books that …

A Taster: Spring 2021 Nonfiction Preview
Life stories, family, baseball, and retreat. These highlight the nonfiction we're most looking forward to this spring.
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ICYMI: Don't Miss These Beauties
The pandemic has wreaked havoc on our attention spans, making it possible to miss really great fiction. These books caug …

Small Courage: Parenting Memoirs
A recommended reading list by Jane Byers, whose new queer parenting memoir is out now.

The Chat with Kimiko Tobimatsu
Author Kimiko Tobimatsu and illustrator Keet Geniza have teamed up to create Kimiko Does Cancer, a timely graphic memoir …

A Record of Literary History: Best Canadian Poetry 2020
An excerpt from Marilyn Dumont's introduction to BEST CANADIAN POETRY 2020.

The Donair: Canada's Official Food?
Excerpt from BOOK OF DONAIR explores how a bitter rivalry between Halifax and Edmonton helped propel the donair to be de …

Notes From a Children's Librarian: Questions, Questions
Great picture books that engage with questions and encourage readers to think about answers.

Most Anticipated: Our 2021 Spring Fiction Preview
Exciting debuts, and new releases by Christy Ann Conlin, Pasha Malla, Eva Stachniak, Jael Richardson, and more.
Results for keyword: “the summer book”
"Love Song," by Theresa Kishkan
Theresa Kishkan weaves a gorgeous narrative out of light and time in her beautiful essay, "Love Story," which opens the newly-released non-fiction collection The Summer Book, edited by Mona Fertig. Reviewer Howard Stewart calls the The Summer Book "a masterpiece collection of finely crafted and evocative reminders of why summer is such a special season"; read this essay for a taste of just how right he is.
*****
On an early summer morning, I wake to the sound of Swainson’s thrushes. Beyond my bedroom window, beyond the house, they sing where the woods begin. And there are robins, vireos, the long whistle of a varied thrush. My curtains are rough white linen, and they filter light, the light at dawn, coming from the east, pink and golden as the sun finds its way over Mount Hallowell. My husband sleeps closest to the window, and he pulls the curtains aside to let in more song. There is honeysuckle blooming, and dog roses, trumpet vines. Hummingbirds bury themselves in the flowers. The pink throats of the tree frogs inflate, a loud vibrato close enough to touch. A face peers in the window through the lattice of vines, and it’s a weasel, as surprised to see me in a bed with pillows and a log-cabin quilt as I am to see a weasel among the dog roses. That’s what Iâ …
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"Love Song," by Theresa Kishkan
Theresa Kishkan weaves a gorgeous narrative out of light and time in her beautiful essay, "Love Story," which opens the newly-released non-fiction collection The Summer Book, edited by Mona Fertig. Reviewer Howard Stewart calls the The Summer Book "a masterpiece collection of finely crafted and evocative reminders of why summer is such a special season"; read this essay for a taste of just how right he is.
*****
On an early summer morning, I wake to the sound of Swainson’s thrushes. Beyond my bedroom window, beyond the house, they sing where the woods begin. And there are robins, vireos, the long whistle of a varied thrush. My curtains are rough white linen, and they filter light, the light at dawn, coming from the east, pink and golden as the sun finds its way over Mount Hallowell. My husband sleeps closest to the window, and he pulls the curtains aside to let in more song. There is honeysuckle blooming, and dog roses, trumpet vines. Hummingbirds bury themselves in the flowers. The pink throats of the tree frogs inflate, a loud vibrato close enough to touch. A face peers in the window through the lattice of vines, and it’s a weasel, as surprised to see me in a bed with pillows and a log-cabin quilt as I am to see a weasel among the dog roses. That’s what Iâ …