Friday, June 13, 2025

Polar Borealis story

 

I have a story in the new issue of Polar Borealis, which is free to read online:
It is a very short little piece which I thought of as whimsically dystopian when I submitted it last September. A lot has happened since then, and I'm not sure if the story is more or less relevant now. If you take the time to read it, maybe let me know what you think.

Thursday, May 8, 2025

Cradle To Stage 2025

 



My script, 'Misfortune', based on the Sicilian folktale by Agatuzza Messia, is going to be included in the Cradle to Stage reading series at Edmonton's Walterdale theatre. It is the story of an evil fate faced with wit, kindness, and a bit of magic. It will be one of three scripts presented on Tuesday, May 20 and Saturday, May 24, directed by Donna Call and read by a team of talented volunteers. Walterdale also sponsored dramaturgy sessions with Beth Graham to help improve my script before sending it to the readers. I have been thoroughly impressed with everyone involved and am confident the evening will be well worth the low $10 ticket price. Tickets are available now through the Walterdale theatre website: https://www.walterdaletheatre.com/65th-season/from-cradle-to-stage-new-play-festival/

Thursday, March 31, 2022

Polar Starlight #5

 My poems 'A Vision of the Future' and 'Grassgreen' are included in the new issue of Polar Starlight, a spinoff of Polar Borealis focusing just on poetry.  The issue can be downloaded for free here POLAR-STARLIGHT-5-March-2022.pdf , and more information about both magazines is available at polarborealis.ca

Friday, November 26, 2021

Home for the Howlidays

The Home for the Howlidays anthology from Tyche books has been released, which includes my story "Apple Night." The links to order print or ebooks can be found here: https://tychebooks.com/howlidays . The theme is a combination of winter holidays and canines, perfect for reading on a long winter's night. I don't have my copy yet but I am looking forward to reading the other stories, especially the one by local author E.C. Bell, who gave some hints about the story at her booklaunch for the latest in her Marie Jenner paranormal mystery series.

Thursday, August 12, 2021

The Day Auntie Boiled Over

 

The day Auntie boiled over, there was a wind blowing.

The sky was smoky and the sun was orange,

And her steam rose up like a genie,

Sardonic and terrible, and it looked about itself

And then breathed out all her frustration and sorrow

And the wind carried it all the way to the palace

And the laughter of the cruel ones died on their lips

And the cups fell from their hands

And the silence that followed was like the ebb of a tsunami.

It was like the moment of waking from a nightmare.

Monday, June 28, 2021

Aurora


I have been told that in some northern Indigenous traditions, the aurora is described as the hair of departed ancestors. The sky last night was a beautiful illustration. My son tells me he has seen auroras for several nights, including fiery red ones.

Monday, June 21, 2021

We Must Write Poems About Trees

 


We must write poems about trees, not just take pictures,

because a picture is always too far, too near, too simple.

If it shows the sweep of branches it misses the texture of bark and leaf.

A tree will not confine itself to one perspective. It is like history

or dreams, or anything we try to grasp like the blind ones

with the elephant: anything too big and too intricate and too sacred.

Anything, really.






Thursday, May 13, 2021

'Like' as a Mood

Perhaps inspired by reviewing Ancient Greek lately, I have been mulling over the question of whether certain colloquial usages of the word 'like' could be interpreted as mood indicators. I feel that, though these usages fall outside standard formal grammar, they have a grammar of their own that is interesting and expressive. Please note that I have only briefly researched similar moods in other languages, and my mention of them below is not based on detailed knowledge of them. I simply wish to show that grammatical mood can be used to express similar things to what I am describing.

Grammatical moods colour our statements, indicating whether what we are saying is a statement of fact, an opinion, a hope, a possibility, and so forth. The most official types of mood are indicated by a change in the form of the verb. There is not a lot of this in English, where almost all verbs are in the indicative, or factual form, but we have a few subjunctive forms, such as the 'were' in 'If I were a rich man.' We produce the imperative mood by omitting the pronoun in sentences such as 'Go to bed already!' We also produce a lot of shades of mood through other sorts of indicators, such as constructions with auxiliaries such as 'would' or 'may' and adverbs such as 'perhaps' or 'maybe.'

Consider the following sentences: 'He was six feet tall.' 'Maybe he was six feet tall.' 'He was, maybe, six feet tall.' The first is a plain indicative statement: the speaker knows how tall the person being described was. In the other two, the word 'maybe' functions as a sort of mood indicator, making it clear that we are actually not certain how tall he was. There is a difference depending on the placement in the sentence. The second sentence suggests that the speaker has not actually seen the person described, but is stating the possibility that he might be that height. The third sentence suggests that the speaker has seen the person, but it giving an approximate guess at his height.

In colloquial English, the word 'like' is often used in a similar way to 'maybe' in the third sentence. 'He was, like, six feet tall' can have an almost identical meaning to that sentence. It may also indicate dramatic exaggeration. The speaker might be talking about a child who was unusually tall for his age, but really considerably less than six feet. Often there is a sense of improbability or amazement implied as well as uncertainty or exaggeration. In this there may be a resemblance to the admirative mood which is found in some languages, and which shows the speaker's surprise at what they are reporting.

There is a difference between this sort of usage of 'like' and the more standard 'like' as can be seen by comparing the following: 'She was like a mermaid.' 'She was a mermaid.' 'She was, like, a mermaid.' The first sentence states, indicatively, that the person resembles a mermaid. It is a simile. The second sentence is also indicative, but might be literally or metaphorically true, the latter being not indicated grammatically in English, but only by context. The third sentence is a modification of the second. Where the original sentence is literal, the added 'like' indicates an uncertain or admirative quality. Where it is metaphorical, the 'like' becomes a sort of tag to show that the speaker is not stating the literal truth, but dramatically exaggerating. It does not do this in the same way as in the simile: there is a sense of juxtaposition between the subject and the image to which she is being compared that highlights the idea of this image being a conscious dramatic exaggeration. I would call it more a metaphor than a simile in the way the subject and image are compared, though perhaps truly it is neither, but a third or intermediate type of comparison.

A sense of dramatic exaggeration is likewise usually intended when 'like' is used in a construction indicating speech. If somebody says, 'I was like, "Don't go in there!" ' they are not indicatively stating that they said those words. They may not have actually said anything out loud, and are expressing their attitude or thoughts rather than actual words. They may have said something, not in those exact words, but with the same intent. They may have said those exact words, but are not certain about it. They may have said those exact words, but wish to indicate that they are dramatically recreating the way they said them, often with some exaggeration.

These qualities of uncertainty and recreation may be akin to the renarrative mood which is found in some languages. The renarrative indicates that the speaker is repeating something that they have heard, as it was told to them, rather than as it happened. It can be related to the admirative mood mentioned above.

It is possible that the speech contruction with 'like' evolved from phrases such as 'he was saying something like,' or 'I was thinking something like,' shortened in casual speech. This does provide a fairly equivalent, though clunky, formal English paraphrase of 'I was like,' in many cases. I am more inclined to think that the use of 'like' inserted as a mood indicator as in the mermaid example came first, so that 'I was thinking,' became 'I was thinking, like,' when the speaker wished to indicate that they were approximating and dramatically exaggerating what followed. The loss of the specific verb 'saying' or 'thinking' does not just simplify, but often indicates uncertainty as to whether the words reported were actually said or just thought, or whether they merely express an attitude as viewed in hindsight.

What is most important to notice is that the use of the word 'like' affects the way we view the information that comes after it. I think the idea of a mood is useful in defining the way in which it does this. The use of 'like' creates a special sort of space in which we can present information in a dramatic, highly coloured way. It has advantages over other ways of creating a similar sort of space: context and tone of voice do not always suffice to avoid misunderstanding. There is a definite playfulness to this space, and it is often used to create humorous effects. Sometimes a 'like' is thrown in almost without any meaning except a sort of invitation to engage in this sort of discourse: to place the conversation in a space where the participants can feel free to hold up a sort of funhouse mirror to the literal, indicative world.

Monday, October 19, 2020

Stellar Evolutions

 My poem 'Devoured' and story 'Till all the Seas Go Dry' have been included in the Stellar Evolutions anthology of selected pieces from the first 15 issues of Polar Borealis magazine. Here is an announcement on the SF Canada website, which includes links for more information and to order via Amazon:  https://www.sfcanada.org/stellar-evolutions-edited-by-rhea-rose/

Tuesday, May 19, 2020

It is Still. . .


It is still winter for us.
Though the leaves spread and the buds swell,
Though the soil warms and the birds build
Nurseries, and the frogs rest from their spawning.
Our buds are still closed, our branches bare,
As we wait for the benediction of release:
The sweet summer, the easy summer,
Gathered on the grass as careless as the dandelions.

Tuesday, April 28, 2020

Story in Polar Borealis

My story, 'Till All the Seas Go Dry' is in the latest issue of Polar Borealis, which can be read/downloaded free at this link:

http://polarborealis.ca/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/POLAR-BOREALIS-14-April-2020.pdf

Wednesday, March 25, 2020

Do it At Home

This morning I was discussing the current situation with my husband, and he used the phrase "Times have changed," which set me into "And we've often rewound the clock. . ." And then of course I had to come up with a few lyrics:

A month ago, we filled our schedules
With classes and jobs and revels
But now we all
Do it at home
Good teachers too have left the classroom
And are learning how to zoom
Over chrome and
Do it at home.

If watching shows you like
If mangling prose you like
If drinking beers you like
If throwing spears you like
If taking a test you like
While you're undressed you like
No one will oppose
But don't forget to wash your hands my friends,
And until this pandemic ends,
Do not roam:
Do it at home.

Sunday, March 22, 2020

World Storytelling Day - Monkey and the Five Pillars video

We held a virtual tellaround on the Storytelling Alberta facebook page to celebrate World Storytelling day this year. Here is a link to my video of me telling the story 'Monkey and the Five Pillars':

https://www.facebook.com/StorytellingAlberta/videos/1390416794483535/

For more about Monkey, check out the classic book by Wu Ch'eng-en or one of the many adaptations. I am partial to the TV series I used to watch as a kid. (Full of 70s wackiness!) Here is a link to the theme song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J-SUoHmpRdM

Much love and gratitude to all those across the Pacific who are leading the way.

Thursday, March 19, 2020

Another Poem (for Winter)

I was going through some of my old scribble files looking for something with a summer theme, and found a rather sweet little thing on the opposite topic that I'd forgotten about. Thought I would share:


The sun that shines in winter
Is the most welcome sun of all,
It makes the snowdrifts glitter,
It makes my house feel small.

For when I stand in sunlight
With the sky so wide above,
My heart that was curled up tight
Opens itself to joy and love.

Sunday, February 9, 2020

A little poem for 2020

When we stop respecting those who make the messes
More than those who clean them up
No one will be afraid to go barefoot
Because the shards of arrogance
Will have been patiently gathered
And melted into lenses of clear vision.

Tuesday, April 2, 2019

Freedom to Leave


One of the things we expect as a matter of course in a democratic country like Canada is the freedom to leave. There are some exceptions, such as minor children without parental permission, or people under police investigation, but generally speaking if I wish to travel or emigrate to another country, I don't have to worry about asking permission from the Canadian government. That is the sort of thing that happens in authoritarian countries. It is the sort of thing which happened under the Nazis in Europe. (I recently went to a talk by a survivor who spoke about it being illegal for Jews to leave occupied Belgium or France.) Trump is demanding that Central American countries adopt authoritarian policies. What happened to supporting freedom and democracy?

Friday, February 1, 2019

Women in Horror Month

I have written a guest blog post for Colleen Anderson's Women in Horror Month series. She will be putting up a new post by a different guest each day.

colleenanderson.wordpress.com/2019/02/01/women-in-horror-jennifer-kennedy

Thursday, September 27, 2018

Poem Online: Cleft

Wax Poetry and Art has published a poem of mine, which won first place in their Canada Poetry Contest: http://waxpoetryart.com/canada/2018/kennedy.html

You can read the poetry on the site for free: the link that says 'Click here to See All New Published Work' is a good place to start. If you find something you really like you can order a printed copy of it.

Tuesday, April 10, 2018

Upcoming Events

I have a few things coming up in the next month or so.

This Friday, April 13th, my storytelling group is holding our annual concert. In honour of the date, we have a theme of 'Oh, So Unlucky', and we are trying out a new venue: Common Grounds Cafe. Registration is though the library:
http://engagedpatrons.org/EventsExtended.cfm?SiteID=2270&EventID=331810&PK=

I am also busy rehearsing for a show with St. Albert Dinner Theatre. They will be running two one-act comedies on Thurs/Fri/Sat from April 26 until May 12. I am in 'A Mad Breakfast' which is a madcap farce set in a boarding house c. 1930.
Details on that are at: http://www.stalberttheatre.com

And, as usual, Magpie Morris Dancers will be dancing at dawn on May 1st at the gazebo in Old Strathcona. We've also been invited to a couple of events later in May.


Thursday, March 22, 2018

Waxwings


I never really believed in the Easter Bunny or Santa Claus, though the idea of them had a certain magic for me as a child. As a parent, I have enjoyed playing out these bits of theatre to mark the turning seasons, but even the magic by proxy of sharing them with my children has faded as they have grown older. And yet when the waxwings come, it feels like the arrival of some seasonal spirit: a visitation and a benediction. I never know when they will come, or even for sure if they will. The crabapple tree stands through the winter with its dark red fruit softening in the cold, untouched. Then one day, late in the winter, when other sources of food have grown scarce, the waxwings arrive. This year the first I knew of it was a shadow darting across the bathroom curtain, then another, and another. I pulled the cloth aside and saw them all over and around the tree, and my heart lifted. Some were perched here and there on the branches, pecking at the fruit. Some were down on the snow, eating the crabapples that others had knocked loose. Waxwings are lovely, sleek birds, delicately coloured. They fly gracefully, seeming to slide on the air. They are dignified rather than noisy for the most part, although I witnessed a brief dispute over a favoured perch on one of the times that day that I came to a window to watch them. I was grateful for their visit, and took the time to enjoy it, knowing that they would soon be gone, not to return until next year.