Scraps for a Saturday
Saturday’s my writing day – sacrosanct. I get up early, go for a long swim, French press some glorious glorious coffee, then settle into my orange-walled little office with its sideways view of Lake Okanagan. Each Saturday, I write at least one poem, revise at least one poem, and submit at least one batch of poems to a lit mag for consideration. But before I can do all that, I need to clear the detritus from my brain – images, worries, quirks, and minutia I’m kicking around. Scraps for a Saturday.
The Electrocutionist
Danielle Hubbard’s The Electrocutionist jaggedly depicts a mother’s death set against the backdrop of a shattering extra-marital affair. Hubbard does not shy away from the contradictions, pains, and passions of infidelity. What does it mean to be loyal? To be guilty? To be the aggrieved? To both cringe and laugh as we wrestle for the truth?