When the first crisp kick of autumn air hits my lungs, I’m taken right back: Pink Pearl erasers,  pinchy new shoes, and a schoolbag full...

When my mother died, she left behind boxes of minutiae and memories, among them: programs from every play I’d done, all her driver’s...

I wish I could say I returned home to Toronto and got right down to fanning my newly rekindled writing spark after visiting Harriet that...

In July 1989, with a couple of days off from a Second City tour, I guided my rental car along a mind-numbingly straight Manitoba highway;...