Friends have asked how my novella began… 
I think that would be a story of its own, but it links closely to genealogy and my search for my paternal great-grandfather. I discovered cousins through Ancestry’s DNA program who were also direct descendants of Cornelius. They shared some dramatic narratives and a few photographs but none of us had a full picture of who he was and the tragedy that befell him, resulting in his death in Southwark, Central London. Some cousins called it a murder.
Back in 2016, I attended a writing workshop facilitated by my friend and Montreal artist and writer/editor, Alana Doyle. During the workshop and subsequent sessions with other attendees, I wrote the first two chapters but realized I had much more research to do to capture the story of Cornelius Eoin Ó hAodha, who escaped Skibbereen, Co. Cork at the height of An Gorta Mór, 1847.
I kept many notes and journals over the years and a detailed album of photographs with annotations from my visit to Ireland some years ago. Then, the alchemy began. Dreams, creative synthesis, intuition, uncanny parallels, cellular memory.
When I sat down to write last winter, the narrative unfolded in a storytelling kind of way. I never knew what was going to happen next, although I had a rough idea of the central characters and plot. The landscape and town lands were familiar and I could call them up in detail. I took on a chapter at a time, followed by editing and many long hours at the desk, but I was terribly superstitious that I would lose momentum if I looked back and stalled my characters’ journey while completing the initial writing. When the first draft was ready, I worked with two editors, a copy editor, and many proofreaders before it was submitted. My proposal had been accepted in spring and the book was scheduled for early winter 2026. The forces must have lined up as the publisher was ready to go with an early fall release. I am excited but trepidatious, especially with a new genre and first-born novella, but it was a story that had to be told.
Many thanks to my managing editor at Wipf & Stock, Matt Wimer, and copy editor, Riley Bounds, for bringing Cornelius into the world!
this is the most beautiful book I have yet held in my hands. You may know, since we have shared a marvellous publisher, and much west coast sensibility through the years, that I have certainly seen and read some truly glorious books already. Including those so special due to their sheer simplicity in serving the poems, their margins, type, illustrations, their endsheets, their care and contribution to poetry, all attentiveness, especially poetry by Canadian women. 
“The music of steel came with ease and regularity in the life of the railways. You could hear it from miles away. You could see the puffs of smoke that accompanied the music. It happened at every crossing, at every bend in the road, at the approach of every town and hamlet along the way… Trains talk. The sweet music of the train whistle was surely a sign of the deep bond that existed between farm folk and train crews all over the west,” wrote my father, in his book about life on the Canadian Prairies, ‘Where Did You Come From?’ The railway was what linked families and farms and provided employment for many pioneers. It was an integral part of growing up in isolated prairie communities.
In 1977 while attending UVic, I made a visit to “Featherland” on Burnside Road with a friend who was conducting research on Raven mythology. It was an experience I will never forget.
