Musings from a Canadian writer

by Peggy Dymond Leavey

A Good Place to Start

A Good Place to Start

Years ago when I was trying to take my writing “hobby” to the next level, I began to write a number of articles for the local newspaper. I’d already had an article published in the Ontario Churchman, a piece about a local centenarian I’d interviewed. Hers was a fascinating story about teaching school in the early 1900s. I wondered if there might be a market for more of these personal interest stories.

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My Review of Ringing the Changes, by Mazo de la Roche

My Review of Ringing the Changes, by Mazo de la Roche

I recently wrote a review of the new edition of Canadian writer Mazo de la Roche’s autobiography for the publisher, Dundurn Press. They ran it on their blog earlier this month. I first started reading de la Roche’s Jalna series after taking The Whiteoaks of Jalna in Grade 10 English Lit. class. I was hooked!

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Kissing Cousins?

Kissing Cousins?

Could Molly Brant Be Related to Pauline Johnson? It’s a logical question. Both women were of Mohawk blood, and Molly’s eight children were all Johnsons. It seemed to beg some further research.

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Q & A for Molly Brant

Q & A for Molly Brant

Earlier this year I was asked to reply to a few questions about my new book, Molly Brant: Mohawk Loyalist and Diplomat. Here are those questions and my answers.

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An early Summer

An early Summer

The month of June is almost over. We’ve been living at our cottage for the past four weeks while renovations are taking place at home. I feel a little out of touch; the calendars in the house are still turned to May. With no internet connection at the lake, I’ve driven to the nearest public library and used their free wi-fi in order to check my email. But there’s never enough time for social media conversations. Are you still there, Twitter?

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The Scariest Person in My Childhood

The Scariest Person in My Childhood

Who was it? That was the question the writing prompt asked, suggesting I write one page. I didn’t have to think about it for long. The scariest person I can remember was actually two persons.

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