I’ve waited a very long time to be a writer. In grade eight, at Queen Elizabeth Junior High School, I had a story published in the school anthology. A week later, the vice-principal, Mr. Kelly, summoned me to his office. Given who I was at the time, I was terrified. He sat me down and asked me questions about what books I’d been reading.
“To Kill a Mockingbird,” I said. “In English Lit class”.
He folded his hands in front of him on the splintered, carved-up, wooden desk.
“Several teachers have remarked on your story. It’s very ...
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