I drive in silence. My fingers itch to press the car stereo on, craving something to pay attention to and occupy my time…Click to read more (Written by Sarah Wensink)
Click to view some selections of Bethany Pardoe’s artwork!
In this final Writer’s Den post, the Black Bear Review team would like to thank all of those who have submitted their writing, all of our readers, and all who have worked behind the scenes to make this issue a huge success. It’s been amazing to witness the creativity and talent throughout the Kootenays…Click to read more!
It’s a crazy thing, really. A miracle that any of us survive.
The first words I uttered to my newborn son were, “Good Dog”… Click to read more (Written by Allison Alder)
Written by Sam Smith. Click image to read poem.
Finishing a piece of writing makes every writer’s day. Finally, all the hard work and effort has paid off and there’s something to show for the hours spent typing away at the keyboard or scribbling into a notebook…Click to Read More
When I became fatherless at twelve years old due to Daddy’s intoxicated joyride that led to his wrapped around a telephone pole death, my fate became clear. I would grow up as Honey Paterson, absentee of father-daughter dances, punchline of prostitute and stripper jokes, and likely future gold-digger with an unshakeable daddy complex…Click to read more. (Written by Danielle LaRocque)
I was born in 1963, snuggled between the voluptuousness of Marilyn Monroe and the androgyny of Twiggy…Click to read more. Written by Christine Deynaka
Journaling sounds like an activity free of the self-criticism and doubts that seem to flood other aspects of writing. Perhaps this is the case, but I’ve still found myself struggling with the question of what makes a proper writing journal…Click to read more.
February is my least favourite month. Everything about it is wrong. It is the runt of the calendar’s litter…Click to read more.
Written by: Christine Deynaka
It had been several days since I had eaten and my hands had began to shake with a malnourished tick…Click to read more. Written by Flood
Somehow the idea of chronic isolation and the caricature of the starving artist have become attached to writing…Click to read more