Two years ago I attended a workshop, with my son, on writing villains, a topic much different from the ones I had written about in the past. I’d just finished another manuscript and was looking for a new project so thought, why not? It could be fun, and it was. Here’s a taste of it:

CHAMBERLAIN SMEG was old, at least that’s the way he felt, that’s why he’d retired. Washed up, burnt out, unappreciated by younger cops clawing for his job. He’d been a good detective but methods change, times change. Besides, his twenty-two year old stepson PAUL GALLOWAY was a project that needed his focus. Before she died, the boy’s mother had plucked small gems of talent from him but Smeg kept missing them as they flew by, novel writing that looked a whole lot like unemployment was one example. Maybe video games could be turned into a career. One that paid so he could move out of Smeg’s house. Not that he wasn’t fond of the kid but when Smeg was his age he’d finished college, got a job and knew how to fry an egg.

Smeg had just settled into his favourite chair with a well-worn novel when MEAGHAN BYATT rang his door bell. She was one of those upstart detectives, the kind rising to the top, like bread with too many air bubbles. The sergeant had sent her on a half-baked errand to solicit his services. Apparently the sergeant wasn’t done with him. Apparently she’d decided he should mentor Byatt. Like another stepson. Just what he needed. But with a body wedged up against a tree off Whitemud Freeway, and little time to consider his options before rigor mortis set in, he was right back in the thick of things.

Set in Edmonton, Alberta in 2015, Smeg is a humorous, cozy crime novel that has the sexagenarian finding his worth, not only as a cop, but as a stepfather and friend, in sifting through the array of eccentric suspects who may have been responsible for that untimely death. 

Did you know I wrote a book? Actually, I’ve written a few but so far only one that’s out there in the world. It’s called The rose that grew from concrete: Teaching and learning with disenfranchised youth published by University of Alberta Press. Getting published is hard work. They made it easy. Well, easier.

The story I’ve told is only one of many possible stories that could be told about Edmonton’s inner city. Here’s an excerpt:

Some people and groups are more disenfranchised than others in the urban margins—class, race, gender, societal expectations and norms, and combinations of all four, play a part in deciding a person’s “place” in any society. This is a story that shows a slice of Edmonton’s street life, and many of the possible combinations that dictate marginalization, but it’s a different story than those you might hear on the radio or read about in the news because its backdrop is an institution that tries to provide unique educational programs for youth who have been pushed to the bottom of the urban social ladder.

The story is also about my own experiences as a teacher in the school. I’m pretty sure that during my time there I learned more from my students than they learned from me. Arriving at the school with my White privilege firmly stowed in my pocket gave me a huge opportunity for learning. And what a curve.

I gained so many important insights during the first class where we discussed Tupac, and the ones that I conducted thereafter. It is often so hard to explore personal issues and open old wounds in a classroom setting, and the Tupac unit requires difficult emotional work from both me and the students. I do, however, think that the process allows all of us to transform our lives. Certainly my teaching has been transformed through my interactions with them.

This book was based on my doctoral thesis, but ultimately my hope is always to lessen the struggles for schools like this one. Schools that engage in ongoing and genuine attempts to help youth move forward in their lives.