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The Fine Line: Emails from L.A.

“Your friend’s on T.V.” “My friend?” “Your friend whose name I can’t pronounce.” “Ohhh! My FRIEND! Mr. Sitcom Actor!” I squealed, and ran from the kitchen, where hubby and I had been making dinner together, to the living room. It was three years after the Crazy Phone Call, and since that time, not one restraining…

The Fine Line: “Do What You Want”

“You’re getting wrinkled.” “It’s not that hot,” I coughed through the steam. “You’re getting drunk.” “It’s rosé. I’m pretty sure you can only get tipsy on the pink stuff,” I laughed. Still, I decided he was right. It was time to get out of the bath. At 31 years old, this newlywed was already a…

The Fine Line (between persistence and stalking)

Those of you who’ve been following this blog for a while now know that I write in a few different genres. I’ve written non-fiction books for youth on Canada’s Prime Ministers; I’m a published poet, and I’m a magazine features writer. A little over a year ago, I started on the roller-coaster ride of my…