The Moomins and Me

I remember my enthusiasm at decoding the black scratches that turned into words when my parents picked up books; I remember reading in a circle with my class, each of us sounding out a few lines. Especially I remember being confused when my turn came, because I had read on ahead and didn’t know what page the class was on.

Announcing the winner of the carte blanche/CNFC competition

kirsten fogg

A faded picture of me and my little brother pops up whenever I turn on my phone. Here, encased magically in modern technology that my brother never knew, is the past that we were. It’s his third birthday, we’re sitting on top of the picnic table in striped bathing suits. I’m holding a patterned punching ball in my lap and his arms are reaching out, as if towards the future, but I know what he really wants is that chocolate cake mum’s carrying towards us.

The NYRB And Me


If you’ve never read the NYRB, you’ve never read anything like it. It is profoundly, purposefully earnest, rigorous with itself, and in the best sense of the term, naive.

Posted on April 16, 2015

Where I Was When I Discovered Crime and Punishment


When I was seventeen, living in Edmonton, I knew a boy named Mitch who, unlike the rest of us suburban softies, already lived on his own and had to pay his way through life. Mitch was violent, and routinely beat up his friends for perceived transgressions against him. He had a heroic scar on his face from the time he pissed off a drug gang and they went after him with a hatchet.

Au revoir, not goodbye

photo D&Q

This past fall, carte blanche celebrated its 10th anniversary, and it has been 10 years that I have been involved in the magazine, first as a co-founder, then as editor. The time has come for me to move on.

Stepping down as editor feels a little like how I imagine parents feel when sending a first child off to college…