Griffons tour Alberta

I fly into Edmonton and on from there to schools in Lethbridge and Stand Off—passing through with gifts for them and soaking it up, reading, stocking their library with Missy and airborne resistance.

Flight of the Griffons, EventsKate Inglis6 June 2014

Alberta trilogy

If you're writing an environmental revenge fantasy, the big story, for now, is under that big sky. Or one of the big stories. All that black gold. A guy from Fort McMurray said over and over again I don't know what happened. Everything's gone.

Flight of the Griffons, EventsKate Inglis27 May 2014

The launch

I don't know if it's fair to feel like the luckiest person in the world when there are people in the world who fall from a third-story window and get caught by a street vendor. But I do, god, I do. The book launch is tomorrow.

Events, Flight of the GriffonsKate Inglis23 May 2014

Swedish lessons

The dying bees, the Antarctic melt, the mountains of old tires, the toxic belch of factories that make Batman bobbleheads for Happy Meals. Off-gassing couches! Cancerous tinned tomatoes! Our breastmilk is poisoned. We live absurdedly, ridiculously.

Flight of the GriffonsKate Inglis15 May 2014

Big drop

Whenever I'm down Penelope, my editor, sends me pictures of a gulper eel and says THIS IS YOU. She's brutal and brilliant. She tells me to quit thinking I'm special by being afraid to open the box that's on its way from the printer in Quebec.

Flight of the GriffonsKate Inglis6 May 2014

April come she will

Now for what's next: lists and mulch and manuscripts, because god knows I'm behind. I'll keep fussing over a growing posse of literary rejects because hope is a warm doughnut, ultimately empty but sweet enough to keep you from drifting off at the wheel.

Flight of the Griffons, EventsKate Inglis3 April 2014

Generally hongzhi

Mulch for the garden; the electrician for a back door light; insulation for the dining room; dad's iron fork to rip out sod and make a bed of soil along the back of the house; more trips to the greenhouse; a better axe to chop the scrap wood for kindling.

I love this list.

ObservationsKate Inglis27 January 2014

By the big land

Every night there were spoons, a fiddle, a snare drum, guitars, everyone piled and sprawled and feeling fat and thrilled and rich, looking at each other bleary-eyed and spinning, all of us teetering on the edge of sickness. Keep going.

Events, The Dread CrewKate Inglis11 December 2013

Labradorian

I come home to here via planes that took off from Robson Street, the Distillery District, the Outer Banks. Now, Makkovik. Flight is still a miracle. That this house feels like it's got a wagging tail when I walk through the door is another.

Events, The Dread CrewKate Inglis13 November 2013

Dazzled by the beauty

I start off heavy, with a cast-iron pot of the required stuff of aperture and directional light and focusing modes. I begin as a school marm, a hardass, because inspiration is rootless without the language to self-diagnose. Then we play.

Retreats, PhotographyKate Inglis4 November 2013

Good morning creekside

The first SHED workshop was teaching, cheering, running around shooting assignments and creative prompts at the beach and the public wharf. It was a bunked-in, slipper-wearing, sunshiney bunch of people meant to be together.

Photography, RetreatsKate Inglis17 September 2013

Toronto-bound (sociable!)

Toronto! One week from tonight, I'll be there. Will you? Impressed Photobooks is bringing me to the big city help them celebrate their launch, the first family photography roadshow event of several across the country. This means sociables and creative mojo all around.

Photography, EventsKate Inglis8 August 2013

Elementary

Stealth to catch kids who evade the lens because they are unaware of it (bubbles and worms are more interesting) and to catch grown-ups who are too aware of it. Worrying about what nobody else sees, we flinch in front of unblinking glass.

Photography, ObservationsKate Inglis21 June 2013

Sistering

We assign each other homework: reading and wines, gods and shoes. The phone bleeps. We are 5,043 kilometres apart. There is nothing like fresh sawdust. We are sistering.

ObservationsKate Inglis11 June 2013

The world on a string

I am the barest minimum, clean clothes picked out of a clean-enough pile, supper at 9, bedtime when the sun comes up. When it was time to finish, I wrote from 10 AM until 4:30 AM. 60,000 words edited in 18 hours without a blink.

Flight of the Griffons, ObservationsKate Inglis29 May 2013

Education

The doctors put me to sleep and went into my belly quick-quick and lifted you out! And you were so little. The littlest! They put you in the incubator and baked you like a cookie until you were big enough to come home and eat toasted marshmallows.

Notes for the Everlost, ObservationsKate Inglis24 April 2013

Speak easy

What if evil thinks that it's good? Doesn't it always? … Never mind. I stare at a 90 year-old empty bottle of Kentucky Tavern Straight Bourbon Whiskey and wonder about the friendship, love, stories, and clouds on the night it was tipped dry.

Observations, PhotographyKate Inglis18 April 2013

A Month of Sundays

A Month of Sundays, my first published photography credit, is on the Stash Books layout table right now—this summer, it hits the shelves. Pre-order here. In the meantime, here are a few moments—some landed in the book, some on the floor.

PhotographyKate Inglis13 March 2013

In receipt

Some writers keep them to have a Wall of Publishers Who Passed And Will Someday Regret It. I don't. Each one is, really and truly, a gift. The boys and I talk about creativity, karma, romance. Nothing works out until something does.

WritingKate Inglis25 February 2013

Man's red flower

I don't know why it's always old music, but it is. Me and Billie Holiday and a coyote on pitch black sand. Me and Ben and Louis Prima in the kitchen. The sailmaker's chest, the captain's trunk, the patchwork of black and grey and pinstriped suit.

ObservationsKate Inglis15 February 2013