I am in Newfoundland doing research for what will one day be a book. Yesterday, I stood on the airstrip Amelia Earhart flew from when she flew solo across the Atlantic. I’ve wandered down the (stunning!) coast to Trepassey and climbed a lighthouse and looked out over the thin, long harbour that housed Amelia’s first trans-Atlantic plane when they got fogged in for weeks on end, and driven up to Harbour Grace where I watched a VHS tape of her moments before her solo flight. I get goosebumps thinking about it.
Currently, I’m perched on the top floor of a beautiful St. John’s home, surrounded by thousands of books (that’s what happens when a poet and a writer/publisher get hitched!), writing and writing, and picking my jaw up off the ground every now and then at the generousity and kindness of the folks around here.
A huge and enormous thank you to Access Copyright Foundation for the generous grant that allowed me to be here.