The Miramichi Reader highlights noteworthy books and authors across Canada from coast to coast to coast. We invite you to peruse our site for in-depth Book Reviews, Author Interviews, Literary Criticism and Essays, posted weekly. Featured By-lines and Literary Showcases are posted monthly.


Why I Wrote This Book: Issue #3
Why I Wrote This Book: Issue #3

FEATURING LISA DE NIKOLITS, DAWN PROMISLOW, MARIANNE JONES, JANET SANFORD, ANGELA PARKER-BROWN AND WANDA BAXTER

Why I Wrote This Book: Issue #3
Miramichi Flash Showcase: November 2022
Miramichi Flash Showcase: November 2022

A double Issue published today in the November Issue at Miramichi Flash.

Miramichi Flash Showcase: November 2022
Big Men Fear Me by Mark Bourrie
Big Men Fear Me by Mark Bourrie

In Big Men Fear Me, award-winning historian Mark Bourrie tells the remarkable story of George McCullagh’s inspirational rise and devastating fall, and with it sheds new light on the resurgence of populist politics, challenges to collective action, and attacks on the free press that characterize our own tumultuous era.

Big Men Fear Me by Mark Bourrie
On Time and Water by Andri Snær Magnason
On Time and Water by Andri Snær Magnason

On Time and Water is both deeply personal and globally minded: a travel story, a world history, a desperate plea to live in harmony with future generations—and is unlike anything that has yet been published on the current climate emergency.

On Time and Water by Andri Snær Magnason
Shadow

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Notable Short Stories


  • “My People Came Down From The Mountains” by Vicki McLeod
    My people came down from the mountains, brittle ghosts armed with blades and hacksaws. They were big eared, small-footed and had red-knuckled hands. They carried no expectations. The men were tough and canny, ready with violence, religiously upright, but secret drunks. The women bore the men, bruised and joking.  They… Read more »
  • “The Scent of Lemons” by Sandra Arnold
    He said he was sure the house they’d stayed in had been halfway between a rock at the end of the beach and the Māori pa site. He remembered paddocks opposite where the owners kept their horse. And a garden full of lemon bushes and a path that led down… Read more »
  • “Tying The Boats” by Amanda O’Callaghan
    A week after she married him, she cut her hair. The scissors made a hungry sound working their way through the curls. You cut your hair, he said, when he came home. Nothing more. She thought he might have said, You cut off your beautiful hair, but his mouth could… Read more »
  • “Nowhere Station” by Tom Hazuka
    I was alone in a second-class car on a train out of Madrid, bound for Barcelona. Yesterday I’d spent twenty minutes standing in front of Picasso’s Guernica, which was black and white like old war photographs and far larger than I expected. I was twenty years old. No painting could… Read more »
  • “The Matador” by Lorette C. Luzajic
    The first time I saw Freddie Mercury in our elevator, he caught my eye and flashed me a grin. “I’ve seen you at the Wine Vine,” I said. Everyone in the neighbourhood called him Freddie, because he was a dead ringer. Small and fierce, with big teeth and a clipped… Read more »
  • “Grandma’s Three Heads” by Traci Mullins
    On top of my grandma’s dresser were three heads. Even though they had no eyes, I was sure they were watching me as I played with Grandma’s jewelry and sneaked peeks into her drawers. I named them Flora, Fiona, and Frances and made up elaborate stories about their elegant, glittering… Read more »
  • “Beneath A Vacant Sky” by Sara Dobbie
    The morning after the moon explodes, Marla wonders if she imagined the whole thing. She rushes down the stairs, two at a time, hoping the chaotic images flooding her brain are memories leftover from some surreal nightmare. But no, her mother is pacing in front of the television, cigarette dangling… Read more »
  • “Slugs In Designer Colours” by DK Eve
    The rain has let up and she’s walking her dog in the neighbourhood park. Broadleaf maples tower above the trail forming a canopy, leaves gleaming bright green, scrubbed of dust. Streams of golden pollen pool at the trail’s edge. The air smells washed, new. There’s a word for it, she thinks.… Read more »