Gail Wylie
Bio
Family therapist - always wanted to be a writer. Have published several books on autism and psychology as Gail Gillingham. Currently enjoying trying my hand at fiction. Loving the challenges Vocal provides, giving me the impetus to write.
Achievements (1)
Stories (39/0)
A New Day is Dawning
Ah Vocal. How I have enjoyed the time I have spent with you. Taking on the challenges, reading the works of others and submitting work from my past. And how I miss the freedom to continue filling my time with you and the many members and their works. Why? Because you managed to ruin it all by being too good!
By Gail Wylie3 months ago in Writers
Dilegevanet
The competition is fierce. One single squirrel against hordes of birds: sparrows, chickadees, house finches, blue jays, nuthatches, woodpeckers, blackbirds, juncos, Bohemian waxwings and so on, too numerous to count. But she is persistent, determined to protect this stash of seeds for the winter. She sits, by the bird feeder, filling her cheeks with as many seeds as they can hold and then runs as fast as she can along the fence to her nest to store them safely away. Within seconds she races back to the tree to secure more seeds before the birds take them all.
By Gail Wylie6 months ago in Fiction
- Runner-Up in Nourished Challenge
A Meal For a QueenRunner-Up in Nourished Challenge
I was in my 36th year of life and had returned to college to finish up the university degree that had been interrupted by a pregnancy and marriage while I was in my teens. My children were now teenagers and I felt I could finally put some effort towards bettering myself. It wasn’t an easy decision. I was married to an extremely jealous man who had clearly demonstrated that neither me nor the children were safe when his rage overtook him. This had led to my developing coping skills over time, skills that had very little to do with who I was an individual and much to do with keeping us all safe. I didn’t like the person I had become and I missed the one I had been as a child. I knew I could not continue living like I was. Returning to college was the first step in a journey to reclaim my self.
By Gail Wylie6 months ago in Feast
Kisses
He I loved her. From the very first day, when she walked into the classroom, I loved her. Throughout the whole 12 years that we attended school together, I loved her. I never told her, of course. I was far too shy for that. And she never really paid much attention to me. I was just one of the guys.
By Gail Wylie8 months ago in Fiction
The Next Great Canadian Novel
Larry stood at the gate, facing the house that he would call home for the next seven years of his life. Harvest meant that no one else was free to travel off the farm and so he had boarded the bus alone and then taken a taxi to this address. His parents had arranged for his housing at the university via a friend of a friend of a friend and this was it. An older home that looked like it had seen better days. He took a deep breath and reached for the latch of the gate.
By Gail Wylie8 months ago in Fiction
A Myth
In the beginning of time, the elephant was not created to be as big as it became, but due to a metabolic mistake, they ended up growing and growing and growing much larger than the creator had designed them to be. These first elephants also did not have a trunk, but only a nose, much like that of a hippopotamus, to breathe through. They drank water in much the same way as zebras and antelopes, bending down and putting their mouth in the water.
By Gail Wylie9 months ago in Fiction
What Would You Have in Your Shopping Cart?
I drive through downtown Edmonton to and from work. Every day it seems I see one or more people pushing or pulling a shopping cart stacked high with their possessions. And every time I see the carts, I can't help thinking about how they contrast to the bag of possessions that were tied on the end of a stick during the depression. These carts represent the overindulgence we have in our world to me as much as a lot of other things out there. However, I have recently began to think of them differently.
By Gail Wylie9 months ago in Humans
- Top Story - July 2023
A Woman of the PlainsTop Story - July 2023
The year is 1750 and I am a Paskwaiwiyiniwak woman living on the banks of the Kisiskaciwani-sipi river in the area referred to as Alberta during the 21st century. They call us the Ndooheenou people, a nation of hunters, for we are a nomadic people, following the migration patterns of the wild animals and birds in this area. As nomads we do not have specific occupations. Survival dictates that everyone, in the tribe, is capable of doing whatever task is needed in the moment. We work as a team, not as individuals. The only division is that between men and women. The men are typically the hunters who supply us with meat and the warriors who keep us safe from predators as well as the other tribes who inhabit this area: the siksikartsitapi in particular, who would wipe us out in a moment, if ever given the chance. The men are also responsible for making the tools we use to survive, from stone, wood and bone. The white man, with the convenience of metal, has yet to arrive in our area.
By Gail Wylie10 months ago in History
