Spring 2021, Volume 42, No. 1

$14.95

Rhinos and Turtles and Birds, oh my!

“For the Love of Animals” is a hefty, 256 page volume featuring a section of fresh and exciting writing on the topic of animals! Check out new work by over FORTY authors including Sylvia Legris, Conor Kerr, Shannon Quinn, Doug Melnyk & more!

 

Cover Image: Waiting for the Thaw by Peter Graham

Contributors

Fiction

Avital Balwit
M.A. Blanchard
Laura Clarke
Jane Dougherty
Leanne Dunic
Carla Ginter Dyck
Conor Kerr
Annette Lapointe
Brittni MacKenzie-Dale
Erin MacNair
Ben Murray
Curtis John McRae
Susan Olding
Loghan Paylor
Theressa Slind
Terence Young

Poetry

Kelsey Andrews
Tammy Armstrong
Jacqueline Bell
Moni Brar
Dennis Cooley
Kieran Egan
Joanne Epp
Julia Gibson
Hannah Godfrey
Sarah Klassen
Sylvia Legris
Callista Markotich
Elizabeth Paulette-Coughlin
Joseph Pearson
Cale Plett
Shannon Quinn
Josh Quirion
Kerry Rawlinson
Brenda Sciberras
Emily Skov-Neilsen
David Waltner-Toews
Gregory Wolff

Non-Fiction

Wendy Bone
Guy Hajaj
Karin Hedetniemi
Judy LeBlanc
Doug Melnyk
James Osborne
Tricia Wasney


Fiction Preview

Nesting by Erin MacNair

That morning we heard the bird trilling, TWEEEEEEEE, so loud it shook the house: I thought it was the tornado siren. Everybody ran out of their rooms, shouting. Sue Ellen and Angie emerged in matching star pyjamas, bare midriffs puckered in gooseflesh. Bill rubbed the sleep from his eyes, dazed and stumbling, tall as his dad now. Stephen whipped open the front door wearing stretched-out underwear, paunch available for anyone to see. I would have said something about scandalizing the neighbours, but the doorway was completely blocked with splintered trees and limbed branches, the wood piled up haphazardly.

“What the hell, Dad!” Bill said, ripping a fart through his flannel pyjama pants. The twins giggled, something they did when they were nervous or about to puke. I went to the kitchen and flicked the lights on, cinching my robe. The windows were barred with knotty kindling. Angie ran to the back door and yanked it open. Impassable. Sue Ellen ran up to Angie and puked on her and all over the faux-Persian rug. They wailed as one tween banshee.


Poetry Preview

Jill by Callista Markotich

See his silhouette lorn at the crest of the path,
a pocket of absence alongside his knee
where sky shimmers through,
a place-holding mass
of nothing beside him, dog shaped,
where love was last week.


Non-Fiction Preview

Harapan by Wendy Bone

“Rhino horn makes the best jewellery,” Nyoman says.

The rings on his fingers glitter in the light from the deck lamps. I take another gulp of cool wind, keep my eye warily on the life preserver lashed to the rail. I’ve been trying not to throw up while listening to Nyoman, a tall Balinese with long hair salted with white and tied in a ponytail, talk about shark fishing and making amulets from rhino horn. It’s not just what he’s saying that makes me feel queasy, but the ferry that we’re taking between the Indonesian islands of Java and Sumatra heaving and shuddering on the black sea on a three-hour night journey. I’m a Canadian journalist off to visit a Sumatran rhino sanctuary at Way Kambas National Park, and Nyoman is going to visit his family nearby. Our bus from Jakarta to South Sumatra is below decks. We started chatting shortly after boarding and haven’t stopped since. He’s full of stories, like about the time he owned a pet orangutan that he fed Coke and pizza until it got confiscated by the authorities and placed in a local zoo. Or his pet eagles which he bought illegally from a wildlife market and eventually let loose in the mountains of west Java—to this day, he says, they still visit him. When he brought up Sumatran rhinos, my curiosity was really piqued, since I’m hoping to write about them for my book about Indonesia’s disappearing rainforests.

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