Sylvia McNicoll

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Sciatica–a word I’d heard mentioned along with pain and back–suddenly became the only topic on my mind. Started just before the Canadian Writers’ Summit when I had to walk all over Harbourfront. It felt like my…

  A nice walk down the lake, that’s what we were after.  Spencer Smith Park offered no parking and the Beach Road was closed. “Let’s go to Lasalle Park,” my photographer husband said. “Great idea,” I said, knowing I’d be…

For most authors, festivals are way outside their comfort zone largely because there is a loss of control. Weather foremost–even a tent or building may shelter you from the elements but if it’s too lovely, people may head for the beach and if it’s…

  This is what a collector’s box of cereal looks like. The picture doesn’t do it justice, there is spot varnish on the Superman logo and texture on the blue of the uniform. I confess I was seduced into buying, of course, I do love caramel.     it In…

My writing friends know I’m working on a fictional story about a Slam Poetry team, the climax of which could be a transgendered youth performing a love poem to the unsuspecting main character, Liam, aka Shakespeare.  For some of the research I’ve attended…