If there was ever a time to stand in our power, if there was ever a time to free onto the page the stories that have chosen us to tell them, now is that time. So feel what you feel, but don’t let those feelings silence you. If you do, more than an election has been lost. If you do, fear has won. 

What would it feel like to be part of a small, heartful community of like-spirited writers who meet weekly on Zoom for coaching and mutual support? Such a group is not only possible, it’s happening…starting on 9/10! 

Few of the stories I share about my father in my memoir are flattering. Not only was he physically and emotionally absent, he wasn’t even my natural father. Yet I carry his name, and of my three fathers, he is the only one I ever think of as "Daddy." So on this 56th anniversary of his death, I share this tale of love and reconciliation…. 

The only thing I know for certain as my 18th month with no fixed home draws to an end is what Eulisha tells Toshar early in The MoonQuest, the same thing Pyrà tells Kamela in the opening scene of The Bard of Bryn Doon, soon-to-be rereleased fourth Q’ntana book: "There’s more to every story." There’s more to my story as well. And all I can do is listen for it and follow where it takes me, in the ongoing act of surrender that is my life. 

When a powerful intuitive impulse prompted me to turn left into the US instead of right toward the Transcanada Highway and Winnipeg, I couldn't know that not only would I not be returning to my native Canada anytime soon, but that 22½ years later I would be a US citizen; a dual Canadian/US citizen, to be precise.

Today, on the 27th anniversary of my "accidental immigration," I share the serendipitous story that got me to the US all those years ago, in the following excerpt from Acts of Surrender: A Writer's Memoir.

Write what you know — what you know in your deepest heart. Write your fire. Write your truth. Go ahead and write what you know...if you dare.

As it turns out, you can’t go back…at least not to the way things were. After all, if I have evolved over the past two decades, my work must have too. 

Because my overtly metaphysical past predates social media, many of you know nothing about it (unless you’ve read my Acts of Surrender memoir and/or The Book of Messages, of course(!). So I guess this is (yet) another coming out for me. It’s not that I was hiding it. It just wasn’t directly relevant to my work in the world. Now, apparently, it is!

It took all the courage I could muster at age 20 to call Gay Montreal and stammer "I-I think I'm gay" into the phone, then take the bus downtown and purposefully talk about it, face-to-face, with a gay man.

Although I don't write "gay fiction," Bernie Freed and Erik Donnekin, major characters in all three of my "Sara Stories" novels are gay, and their stories, including Bernie's coming out, are integral to the plots of Sara's Year, After Sara's Year and The Emmeline Papers.

And although the following scene from Sara's Year didn't play out identically in my life, I did have a similar experience with a friend who, with good but misplaced intentions, tried to push me out of the closet by telling me that I was gay. He was right, of course, but it would take another year for me to get to the place I describe in my Acts of Surrender memoir.

Whether this journey lasts another day or another 474 days, I need to remember that what I’m doing is making a difference. It may not always be the kind of visible, demonstrable difference my conscious mind would prefer. It may not show up in books sales or coaching clients. Yet the fact that it isn’t always visible or demonstrable simply forces me to trust that much more. And whether I’m on the road or off, trust is what I’m all about.

“Not only am I not yet finished with The MoonQuest (as I thought I was), its StarQuest sequel will take me eleven confused and frustrating years to complete. Not the book itself. The first draft!”