Maggie Wilson Author

Historical Non-Fiction in Northern Ontario

Archive for June 2014

A Moving Day

Today I take the plunge and write in response to a challenge hosted by Writing Essential Group. You might want to drop by and see what they are up to. I learned of this blog through a very fine writer from Almost Iowa. You might want to check him out, too! Now, as you know the muses often have a mind of their own, and this time is no different. The […]

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Misophonia

In the case of creative pursuits, I need quiet. No music. Conversations and street noise must be muted. I learned this years ago when I attended college for an Advertising Art Program. While I was in creative mode, designing my projects, I needed complete silence. While I was in technical mode, that is, rendering the piece, I listened to music. The same goes for my writing. While I compose a piece, […]

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A New Ice Cream Variety: Mugget’s Nuggets

Mugget’s Nuggets. Stories and trivia. A bit nutty. Well, OK, a lot nutty. And rich. In the fat content meaning of the term. Sweet. With sour bits on occasion, depending on how you scoop it. If I am on the shelf too long, I might become hardened, difficult to encourage out. I will most certainly melt in the heat. Swirls of fudge sauce. Not the faux kind. A core of sweet praline […]

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Smells Like Smoke: Writing 101 Free-Write

I had dinner out with my friend S last night. We ate at an Indian restaurant that is under new management. I had my usual palak paneer and a vegetable korma. VERY tasty, but it wasn’t so much fun digesting. Not the food’s fault. My gluttony. I drove. Unfortunately, my AC is on the fritz. My car is an “old” Ford Escape. It’s 2003. For the last several summers, the […]

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Institutional Care: Warehousing

See Marg. See her hair. It is white. Her skin bags and wrinkles. See Marg’s eyes. They are dim and dull. See her mouth sag open. A filament of spit dangles to her soup-stained housecoat. See Marg’s hands. They are gnarled and frozen into fists. They tremble gently in her lap. See the chair. Marg sits in the chair. It is one in a semi-circle of dozens. They all face the blaring […]

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Early To Bed

Just as I never deny my tummy a meal, I am very careful to follow the bedtime schedule.  9:00 rolls around, I yawn and take myself upstairs to brush my teeth. Lights out at 10:00. Hardly a variation. Longer daylight hours notwithstanding, which makes me feel like an old fart, you have no idea. Of course the early to bed has everything to do with the early to rise: we […]

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