Call Me Les
Keepin' it real since 1987 with 3 cats, a tiny apartment and too many words in my head. Admin at the Vocal Social Society. Find me here.
No words left unspoken. In memory of Tom Bradbury.
Ariadne and the Minotaur: Psychopathy Runs in Families
There is a reason we imagine the afterlife as an underworld. Descending into the depths of the earth is akin to descending into death. You can arm yourself with the best weapons, supplies, gear— string—and still fall victim to the immutable peril of the number of steps you travel from light and life. Many who enter such spaces vanish without a trace; many more fall prey to what lies within. No truer words were spoken of the monstrous Minotaur's labyrinth. But every coin has two sides. And if descending into the darkness is like dying, then surely ascension to the surface is rebirth.
Call Me LesPublished 2 months ago in FictionVocal Subscribe: The Power Is In Your Click
Well, this has been quite a weekend. Not only did our online literary society, The VSS, successfully launch its new social media presence using our article, Introducing The Vocal Social Society: A New Way to Network, but Vocal turned around and surprised us all with the long awaited subscribe button! We at the VSS are over the moon excited to follow our friends, and, more importantly, attract and retain more readers.
Call Me LesPublished 2 months ago in Journal
Missing Branches
Trigger warning: If reading this piece causes any crisis or distress, call the Indian Residential Schools Crisis Line at 1-866-925-4419
Call Me LesPublished 2 months ago in FYI
The True Life of "Jen"
This is a highlight from the extraordinary life of my great-grandmother "Jeanette MacDonald" who lived and loved in turn of the century New Brunswick, Canda. To find out why her name is in quotation marks and more, read Missing Branches
Call Me LesPublished 2 months ago in Viva
Horses Are Not Property
Author's note: The intended audience is children aged 9-15. Since I usually spent the first week of August moping about, when I whistled on my way to breakfast, my Aunt Fern knew something was up. I sat down at the kitchen table with a smile. She smiled back, kissed my cheek and passed me a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of orange juice.
Call Me LesPublished 2 months ago in Petlife
How 'Shark Week' Saved My Life
Trigger Warning: Content references surgical procedures and illnesses that some readers may find disturbing. Dramatization based on a true story.
Call Me LesPublished 2 months ago in Viva
Channel Your Inner Oprah
Alright, so we've all been there. You're a burgeoning author trying to drum up a following on Vocal, and for whatever reason(s), you've just clicked on someone else's story.
Call Me LesPublished 2 months ago in JournalHow to Spin a Yarn
When it comes to unwinding from the daily routine, my creative projects have always been as eclectic as my personalities. An odd quirk of being a writer is that I often feel my characters live on in my mind, resurfacing every once in a while, like whales coming up for air, to remind me they still have stories left to be told.
Call Me LesPublished 2 months ago in Psyche
