In 2016, the Festival of Literary Diversity emerged to celebrate diverse authors and storytellers with a mission to engage readers, inspire writers, and empower educators.
The inaugural Brampton event was in-person (a term that was not even necessary to clarify at the time).
In 2020 and 2021, as a result of the global pandemic, it transformed into a virtual and more accessible experience that allowed attendees to build community and engage in conversation from the comfort of their home.
This year, the festival continues in its multi-modal format for only the fourth time—delivering four days of virtual events and four days of in-person events, all as part of Brampton’s first Book Week.
To celebrate this accomplishment, we added a podcast, Into the FOLD, to document the journey and a FOLD Apparel line for fans to enjoy our cozy book wear all-year round.
In this commemorative program, which includes pictures and memories from the last ten years, you’ll find a special 10th anniversary article from the FOLD’s first full-time employee, Amanda Leduc, along with an all-star lineup of some of our favourite pieces from each of the last ten years.
Thank you for celebrating a decade of change at the Festival of Literary Diversity—whether this is your first year or your tenth (or something in between), we’re grateful to have you.
— JAEL , ARDO, SAMANTHA and LIN
Left to Right: Samantha Clarke, Ardo Omer, Jael Richardson & Hudson Lin. Photo by Sarah Bodri, 2024.
City of Brampton
Office of the Mayor
2 Wellington Street West
Brampton, Ontario L6Y 4R2
Dear FOLD Community,
On behalf of the City of Brampton, it is my great pleasure to congratulate the Festival of Literary Diversity (FOLD) as it celebrates its 10th anniversary, with the theme a Decade of Change! This milestone is a testament to the incredible impact that FOLD has had on our vibrant community, and I am proud to extend my warmest thanks to the authors, organizers, volunteers, and supporters who have made this festival a resounding success. This year’s festival will take place from April 27th to May 4th, kicking off the inaugural Brampton Book Week.
FOLD has become a cornerstone of Brampton’s cultural landscape, championing underrepresented authors and storytellers while fostering an inclusive and welcoming environment for all. Over the years, FOLD has not only celebrated diverse voices but has also ignited important conversations surrounding equity, mental health, and the role of literature in shaping our society. This year’s programming featuring both virtual and in-person events promises to bring together thousands of attendees and over 50 authors, creating a truly dynamic platform for discussion and learning.
I am particularly excited by the festival’s inclusion of youth programming as well as its commitment to amplifying the voices of marginalized communities. Events like the Canada Reads All-Stars conversation and the celebration of young adult authors will undoubtedly inspire the next generation of readers, writers, and leaders in our community.
The 10th anniversary of FOLD is a celebration not only of the festival itself, but also of the values it stands for literacy, inclusion, and learning. As one of Canada’s largest and most diverse cities, Brampton is proud to be a host for such an impactful event. I want to thank FOLD for its unwavering dedication to promoting these vital ideals and for continuing to push boundaries to create a more equitable space for storytelling.
Please accept my heartfelt congratulations on this momentous occasion, and I look forward to the many more years of success ahead.
Warm regards,
Patrick Brown Mayor of Brampton
FOLD documents a decade of change by launching a podcast: Into the FOLD .
Second literary high tea is held at a new downtown Brampton venue, Alderlea
First virtual events are held in response to a global pandemic.
First events at the Rose Theatre and first writer-in-residence, SK Ali.
First FOLD Kids Book Fest is held in City Hall.
Last children’s events at the FOLD in May.
202520242023 202020192018
Manor.
Virtual festival launches on a new mobile app.
First
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Another all-virtual festival launches on an innovative virtual platform.
First events held at Brampton’s City Hall.
First literary festival is held in Brampton at Peel Art Gallery, Museum + Archives.
hybrid festival includes the inaugural marquee literary cabaret.
2025
A DECADE OF CHANGE
BY AMANDA LEDUC
Summer, 2015. I live in Hamilton, Ontario. I work in the emergency psychiatric unit of a hospital, because I can’t seem to get a job anywhere else. I’ve been trying to get a job in the arts sector for the better part of the last two years, but competition for arts jobs in Toronto is fierce and competition for arts jobs in Hamilton is impossible because there are no jobs to begin with.
I am trying to be a writer, because that’s what I went to school for and that’s what I’ve wanted to do since I was five. But I published a novel two years ago and it has officially disappeared. (Most books do, but it will be years before I recognize this.) Earlier this year, my publisher declined my second novel. And now I can’t seem to sell my writing anywhere.
I’m in my early thirties and I live in a tiny apartment that looks like it belongs to a student and I have so much school debt I am sure it will crush me. Sometimes I come home from work and go straight to bed because when I’m sleeping, I don’t cry.
I’m seeing someone who isn’t good for me. I’m making all kinds of bad decisions. I spend my days working and sleeping and trying not to scream. Everywhere I look, I see the same thing.
Failure. Failure. Failure.
Every morning, I wake up and wish that I was dead.
•
I grew up in this city, and when I moved away to university, I swore that I’d never come back. But a few years ago, I ran out of money, and so here I am. Back home after more than a decade of being away. Many of my friends have houses and cars now. They’ve started having kids. They know what it means to look to the future in a way that still seems lost to me. The future? Try tomorrow. Try imagining a world in which I don’t want to walk in front of a car. Every day feels like a decade, like I am stuck in some kind of vortex while everyone else swirls around me, building the bright shining galaxies of their much better lives.
Suicide is like an invisible door that has opened at the back of my mind, something at once surprising but also inevitable. Familiar.
I’m seeing someone who isn’t good for me. I’m making all kinds of bad decisions. I spend my days working and sleeping and trying not to scream.
Of course, I think. Of course this is how it was always meant to end.
But I have debt to pay, and I can’t hand that debt off to my parents. And so life it is, for now. Work and sleep and sadness and trying to keep the flame of possibility alive.
I stop writing, for a time. My job at the hospital is mindless and predictable but it pays me more than writing ever has. So.
Why fight against gravity? Why not just let go? •
Then, in the fall of 2015, I write a short story. I’m not really sure where it comes from. It is a story about a woman who lives in an apartment beneath a pair of married hyenas who can talk. They walk on two legs like humans.
Why hyenas? Who knows.
Why the walking and talking? I don’t know that either. But they are weird and beautiful and somehow, this speaks to me. The story swirls out of me like some kind of new galaxy, strange and bright and mine.
But the hyenas don’t make sense, and they need to make sense in the context of the story. I have started going to therapy, and this is something my doctor comes back to again and again. The way that we tell
stories to make sense of our lives. The power that stories can hold. The responsibilities we all have to spin them in ways that shine light—on our own lives, yes, but also on the world.
“What story have you been telling yourself?” my doctor asks. “What stories and ideas are keeping you from changing, from becoming who you’re meant to be?”
We build worlds in fiction, I’m beginning to realize. And we build worlds in our own lives too.
The story I am telling about these hyenas needs to make sense because hyenas don’t walk and talk in real life. I need to find a reason for why they are the way they are. Maybe they’ve been through some experiments—a chemical spill, that kind of thing. Wild genes on overdrive. Something like that.
Then, one day when I’m sitting in my tiny apartment and wrestling with how to explain them away, suddenly it comes to me: they need no explanation.
I am not going to explain why my hyenas walk and talk. They just do. They just will.
And if people don’t like that, there are other books they can buy at the bookstore. They do not need to buy mine.
Some months after this, I see a job ad on Twitter for a new literary festival and send an application away to the FOLD.
•
In space, a decade is no time at all. It is a kind of cosmic blink—a flick of time, and barely that. But even in this blink of time so much is happening. Stars are being born. Rocks and ice and other debris are swirling into place, seeding planets that might, billions of years down the road, hold life.
What is here now might become something else far in the future, given enough of these blinks. Enough time. It is all here, in other words. All of the building blocks that will become something else, that new version of you.
I apply to that job, and I get it. The Festival of Literary Diversity becomes a new centre of gravity for me, pulling so many other things into orbit in my life. New friendships. New passions. New writing. New ways of seeing the world.
And also? So many more questions.
How do we make sense of a world that holds so much cruelty and so much love in both hands?
How do we get up, every day, and keep doing the work when nothing seems to be changing? How do we build community and challenge what seems immovable? How do we keep reminding ourselves that change is always coming, even when a decade feels at once like a blink and also an eternity?
What are the stories we tell ourselves to make sense of all of this and move forward?
What does it mean to imagine, and put into practice, a better world?
A lot of these are questions I’ve always been asking, just packaged in different ways. Turns out I was pulling my own galaxy into place all through those long slow years, and the ones that came after, even when it felt like nothing was moving. All those days when I was schlepping to work at the hospital and trying to write and trying to imagine a different kind of world—turns out I’m using those same skills here, too.
Then suddenly, one day, a decade has passed and gone.
• And now we are here, on the eve of the FOLD’s tenth anniversary festival. A decade that has swirled so many parts of this country’s literary landscape together and
given birth to countless new bright things and stars. It’s a decade of cosmic change in the very best kind of sense. When we were working to bring those first few iterations of the festival together—to say nothing of those years when we had to pivot to an online model—there were many moments when I felt the way I did all those years ago when working at the hospital: like change was impossible, like we were struggling relentlessly against the gravity of an already established galaxy out there in space.
But we were creating our own gravity at the FOLD. Every workday, every meeting, every author, every festival we held was its own force building into something larger, something that has, over these last ten years, brought about the kind of change I was looking for so desperately all those years ago.
I don’t work at the FOLD in the same capacity now, as I did when I answered that job ad back in the late days of 2015. But I’d be lying if I said that the FOLD wasn’t still my centre of gravity—that being involved with the festival hasn’t changed me in fundamental ways and encouraged my own growth as a writer and human being. Without the FOLD, I would not have embraced my life as a disabled woman. Without the FOLD, I might not have embraced the strangeness of the stories I wanted to tell—even if the building blocks of that life were already swirling into place. Working with Jael, and Ardo, and Jonisha and Sam and Lin and the Board and all our volunteers over the years took that process that began for me at that hospital in Hamilton, and in that tiny attic apartment, and made it into something real and tangible. A life where words and stories have value, no matter how strange and inexplicable or unrecognizable those words and stories might seem.
•
Without the FOLD, I would not have embraced my life as a disabled woman. Without the FOLD, I might not have embraced the strangeness of the stories I wanted to tell ...
As I write this, I’m less than a month away from publishing my next novel. It’s a novel that grew out of the short story I wrote in 2015, the one about the hyenas who do not need to be explained away. The past decade of life working at and being part of the FOLD has reminded me that I, also, do not need to be explained away. None of us do, no matter how small we might feel in the face of all that feels immoveable: old guard CanLit, old ideas, old ways of doing things. Sometimes it takes a decade to look back and realize that what felt like incremental change was actually monumental— that even as we wrestled with the past, we were also reaching forward to the future.
I am so different from that woman who answered that ad for the FOLD those ten years ago. And the FOLD itself is different from what it was in its first iteration. The festival has grown to encompass so much more—a children’s festival, a writing webinar series, a vibrant sense of literary community both in Brampton and across the country. It has become a changemaker, a force that doesn’t just push against the gravity of what is but also reaches forward into the new universe that could be. As we take stock of all that has
brought us to this year’s tenth anniversary festival, I can’t help but think about all of the small festival moments—right here, right now, in front of us—that will seed something else ten more years down the line.
Change. Sometimes it takes a decade to see and fully understand it, but it’s happening in every moment whether we see it or not. All of those stars and galaxies swirling their way into being—in the universe around us, and right here on the page.
I hope that your time at the FOLD—as an author, as a spectator, as someone reading this Program—reminds you of all of this, and gives you strength as you carry your work into the future. May you remember that we are all, even now, seeding change into the world that is to be.
And when you meet that change in ten more years, at the twentieth-anniversary festival whose building blocks are being laid even now, I hope you—I hope we all—can see the way we reached forward to this future, hand in hand together.
//
“I remember the beginning of the FOLD in a coffee shop in Brampton. Jael and I were both working on novels and she was identifying the need for a festival devoted to diverse voices and I was like, Then you create one. The coffee shop is gone but the FOLD is still going strong.”
— IAN WILLIAMS FOLD AUTHOR
A Voices from the FOLD: Year 9 original poem.
ANCESTORY.COM
BY RAHMA SHERE
Himalayan salted complexions that evolve as the rushing Indus carves through changing terrains from towering giants of glacier valleys to fields of white cotton clouds dotting rural neighbourhoods in a land that has been conquest from time immoral through the ancient routes of The Silk Road to the first ships that landed on coastal ports populated by sun baked bodies shamed for not being fair and lovely. My body is a reflection of the land I come from, a land of my ancestors, home to monuments to deities and Sufi saints who penned poetry in our name and gave birth to nations that still stand under ever-shifting skies of the winter sun and monsoon rains nourishing this vessel that holds who we were and who we are today. We, the people who refused to dissipate in the melancholic wars of men.
//
“FOLD has opened my eyes and mind to a whole new world of books, stories, experiences and people.”
— LINDSAY SPROULE FOLD VOLUNTEER
THE ROOFTOP MIST GARDEN: THE MUSIC OF VANCOUVER
BY VIVIAN (XIAO WEN) LI
The metallic table wobbles with the first piercing shrieks of gulls calling the skyline, evening. You sit in the echoing air, spine angling away from the rigid chair, towards the blinking chains of white light; it must be, you realize, as your eyes follow down the stretch of the tessellated grey-white patterned patio, a dance calling forth the rainstorm that will strike within the hour. Beyond the sporadically thin Granville Island bridge rests a horizon blushing orange. Wrapped by the eastern mountain wind, snake-like, the wiry hands of a silver birch tree uncurl.
A couple smiles with open-orange foreign sounds—a woman with a black hat, a man with a parka jacket holding a Blenz Coffee cup. Pulling on their gloves, they sit six feet away from you, their intertwined fingers gliding through wisps of cloud in the sky. You lean closer, the only listener within the half-dozen round tables, slipping into their secrets. You can almost understand their lifts and turns as you sip your London Fog, sweet and calming between your teeth—its warmth surrounded by a chestnut wrap, bumpy spine sharp against fingertips. Already your hands are chilled from bone to marrow, and your feet angle back, towards home, but you want to listen a little longer, to outlast the thin mist before rain.
Heavy smoke rises behind three squat beige buildings—within the central seven-floored apartment, only the fourth-floor bulb burns. In the open window, a shadow passes by: a memory. There are other signs of life the longer you hum; a leaf flutters across the ground; a bag lifts, buoyed by air; a chickadee squeaks in the birch tree, its body squinting against the greyhaired sky. Firm solar panels catch the last hazy quivering of light. Your legs, pressed tight against the rattling table, have found grounding, sustenance. Warm air rushes past; two students walk in step as a pair of sparrows brushes bodies in an eternal, infinite loop, before dividing across the skyline, and falling onto separate perches.
You glance behind at the rows of glass in mirrored reflection; the garden aching brown from Winter’s wrath. Anthem music soars from the couple’s phones—you smile at the increasing number of jacketed figures braving the chill to find solace in the sinking sunset. Two old friends, one with grey shoes, another wearing white, call the other sinister and pose before the birch tree. Their masks are down, unadorned. The latter answers a phone call after pointing to the CBC quarters below; teasing, he tells his mother he stopped Ben from jumping off the roof of the library.
Ben catches your eye, and he waves as he and his friend climb down the stairs. Lights are sprinkled everywhere; lights sparkling in tune with the glow on bridges and wire lines. L-shaped sapphire apartments with ash-brown, teal, and ochre roofs crowd the cityscape before you. But what is beyond these buildings, and beyond those?
The first sharp drop on your forehead signals the arrival of twilight, the bruise of grey heavier against the horizon. Soon, you will be recalled home. The mountain-clear scent of the wind reminds you that within
a distanced world, the populated trees, blinking tealgreens, and anchored buildings have not yet shifted. The patio lights will beat on in the storm, vivacious. A lady dressed in silver-and-cream curves a Pano of the patio. The mask on her face does not hide her yearning for connection. You smile as you, the couple, and the birch tree, are captured.
“ I love that the FOLD develops critical and thoughtful panels that speak to not only books, but social issues.”
— MONICA TANG FOLD BOARD MEMBER
PENGUIN RANDOM HOUSE CANADA PROUD SPONSOR OF THE FESTIVAL OF LITERARY DIVERSITY
WELCOMES OUR AUTHORS
SHADE LAPITE
SHASHI BHAT SALEEMA NAWAZ
SHEUNG-KING
JUDY I. LIN
AMANDA LEDUC JUMATA EMILL
OZOZ SOKOH
DAVID CHARIANDY
MORGAN CAMPBELL
KATHERENA VERMETTE ANNA SORTINO
A Voices from the FOLD: Year 7 original poem.
INFINITIVE: A STATE OF BEING
BY LEANNE CHARETTE
This skin, showered with questions, eyed with suspicion, will not be passive. Here, a line was drawn, showing exactly where it deviates from the design. Here, the bunched attempts to mend, at the hip, puckered along the spine.
This skin has known the scalpel, has felt overactive nerves severed;
has walked bare, between the balance bars, disfigurements on show, has seen itself reflected in two-way mirrors by harsh, medical lights.
This skin, riotous tissue symbiotically tied to a fray of joy, pain, longing; intertwined with the chair that frees, never confines, is with surgical precision, reduced to the inanimate.
To inaccessible minds, the living becomes only thing.
But this skin will not be passive; beneath its surface tense muscles resist the wounds that tried to render it inactive. It will heal over and over.
This skin will not be passive, not a noun but a verb.
2021
ON DISABILITY
BY SUSAN MOCKLER
On August 20, 1995, I slipped into the passenger seat of my friend’s rusty old hatchback. It was nine o’clock at night. As we pulled onto the highway, heading from Ottawa toward Montreal, I wriggled to get comfortable on the vinyl seat, smooth against my bare legs. Fastening the seatbelt, I settled in.
By ten o’clock we had hit a moose.
The first thing I remember is someone calling my name. I opened my eyes to the chaos. Shouting, slamming car doors, flashing lights. I couldn’t feel anything; I couldn’t move. Next came the emergency room. My friend, uninjured, except for a few scratches, tried to reassure me.
“They think you might just be in shock,” he said. But after x-rays, an ambulance to Ottawa, and an MRI, a neurosurgeon said broken neck, the highest two vertebrae fractured, a quadriplegic spinal cord injury.
My injury was called “incomplete” because my spinal cord’s capacity to convey messages to and from my brain was somewhat intact. I might regain enough movement in one arm to transfer to a wheelchair, I was told. I might be able to live independently. I learned in an instant how one can shift from ability to disability in so unannounced and sudden a way.
At first, I could only move my eyes. Machines, attached by tubes snaking across me, had taken con -
trol of all my bodily functions. Nurses assumed my body’s care: rolling it, washing it, feeding it, wrapping it in a hospital gown, catheterizing its bladder every four hours. These actions were beyond intimate for a 31-year-old.
What came next were five months in a rehabilitation centre and the gradual return of my left hand. Shaky at first, I inched through hospital corridors manoeuvring the joystick of a power wheelchair. Food splattered around me like an infant feeding itself, though eventually I mastered showering, dressing, and brushing my hair and teeth. My left hand became a cornerstone of my independence, and walking was increasingly seen as optional, merely a way to move from place to place. The wheelchair would suffice.
My left hand became a cornerstone of my independence, and walking was increasingly seen as optional, merely a way to move from place to place. The wheelchair would suffice.
Yet my legs recovered. From initial twitches to more coordinated movements, I slowly graduated to propelling a manual wheelchair with my feet, stepping between parallel bars and walking with a cane. Life returned after a year. I walked slowly with a limp and retained little function in my right arm. I learned to write again with my left hand.
At that time, I viewed my recovery as reclamation of self, though I had no understanding of what my life would become. Disabled, I had crossed some invisible line and become “other”.
Public scrutiny of my body was initially surprising. In line for coffee, walking along the street, travelling by taxi: Did you have a stroke? An accident? What happened? Marked physically by trauma, I felt on display, having lost some right to privacy. People seemed curious, often offering advice or encouragement as one would to a small child. Good for you to be out on your own!
Other intrusions were less benign. “What’s the matter with you anyway?” a cab driver once asked me after I got into his taxi. “I was in an accident,” I replied. “You can’t use your arm? And you don’t walk very well. Christ,” he said. “If I was you, I’d kill myself.”
While that cabbie likely just suffered from individual prejudices, his sentiment toward me was hardly
unique. Depictions of persons with disabilities in the media reinforce stereotypes that promote such objectification and discrimination. Rarely is a person with a disability presented as a multidimensional, complex character, driven by human desire, who just happens to possess physical challenges. Instead, they are lauded as inspirational heroes, victims, or objects of pity. A reality show that followed people with disabilities on dates chose the moniker The Undateables.
•
Evenings out are often fraught with complications. Venue information on accessibility is inconsistently provided, and when it is, rarely do the words “barrier-free” appear. Listed under “accessibility” is often the number of stairs at the entrance and the flights required to access washrooms. And since stairs render an establishment inaccessible, this information tells people with mobility disabilities that they’re not welcome.
I sometimes attend events in inaccessible locations. Once I was helped up the stairs to a friend’s birthday party, only to slide down again on my bum in full view of other guests, patrons, and staff at the end of the night. Could my friend have picked a more accessible space? Possibly, but in Toronto they’re in short supply.
ECW AUTHORS
AT FOLD 2025
K.J. AIELLO
... a speaker reminded the audience that “able-bodiedness is a temporary state.”
I travel often and am highly dependent on accessibility services. There’s little sensitivity to be found receiving wheelchair assistance at Canadian airports. Able-bodied friends I travel with are typically addressed in my place, with airline staff referring to me, if ever, in the third person.
Alone, I have been “parked” in the middle of terminals with little explanation. Agents complain to me about the number of “chairs” they have to assist, their sore backs, or staffing shortages. They converse with each other, griping about working conditions and personal matters as if I were a burdensome object to be shunted around.
Over two decades of being disabled have affirmed for me that the social stigma and discrimination people with disabilities face extends to the ever-present struggle for access to services and built environments.
Universal design, emphasizing the creation of environments that can be understood and used by as many people as possible, regardless of ability, would help anyone with mobility limitations experience their cities more fully. Plus the mere presence of people with disabilities in public spaces could lessen the prejudices all too present in our society.
It might also preclude the need to categorize oneself as disabled, or even the need to prove “disability” to gain access to services and built environments. Ability exists along a continuum, comprised of visible and invisible conditions. We should all remember that.
I once attended a conference where a speaker reminded the audience that “able-bodiedness is a temporary state.” Whether from birth, illness, injury, or aging, many of us will need accessible services and environments.
Frankly, we deserve better than sliding our bums down stairs. //
SUZAN PALUMBO
“I have loved The FOLD since my first book was released. The Festival has always supported me and other Indigenous authors. My memory is more of a confession. I have a collection of Fold t-shirts I have purchased over the last 8 years that have actually become my go to sleepwear. I have two red Fold t-shirts that read: Books aren’t boring, you are. Another purple shirt that says: I closed my book to be here. And the last, a blue one that says This is my reading shirt. They are my most favourite things. They signal my bedtime mood! My time to unwind and read.”
— TANYA TALAGA FOLD AUTHOR
2020
Originally published in Crush Zine
.
WRITING TO MY BROTHER
BY JO JEFFERSON
I wish I had a copy of the letter I wrote to my brother in 1982. He was ten years older than me, gay, living in Toronto, taking a break from his career as a journalist to work on a law degree. I idolized him. I was 19, studying English Literature and trying to write poetry in small town Nova Scotia.
I can only imagine the earnest, confused, younger-sibling outpouring that arrived at his Gerrard Street apartment that fall. What I still hold onto (and read over and over) are the words he wrote back, on November 16.
Your letter kind of amazed me; I’ve always thought of you as the one who kept personal matters pretty much to herself. (On the other hand, that’s not the sort of thing you can talk to a lot of people about, is it?)
If you’ve told your friend about your feelings and it didn’t freak her out (as I gather) that’s great; it’s a big hurdle. The next one, it sounds like, is figuring out what to do about it.
On the next page, in his familiar, scrawly, slanted handwriting, he offered some great advice:
Just keep a couple of things in mind. —going to bed with someone of the same
sex doesn’t mean you’re gay and it doesn’t make you gay, —whatever the two of you do is your own business and no one has any right to tell you not to do it, or that there’s anything wrong with it, —whether you are gay or straight or somewhere in between (as lots of people are) is far less important than being able to enjoy making love with the right person and not feeling guilty about it.
Whoever invented guilt over sex ruined it for a lot of people — it’s supposed to be fun, whoever you’re doing it with. The important thing is to be able to explore your sexuality, and go wherever it leads you, without panicking about it.
I still get mad when I think of how miserable I was for years, thinking I was a sicko. I know better now but I wish I had back then.
Whoever invented guilt over sex ruined it for a lot of people— it’s supposed to be fun, whoever you’re doing it with.
Before closing out the advice section of his letter, he said something that probably felt to him like a funny aside and now, years later, feels like a painfully ironic stab.
There’s one reason, actually, to be less nervous about gay sex than straight: you don’t have to worry about any of the disastrous consequences. It’s quite a bonus.
Five years later, he would know he had AIDS. Ten years later, he would be dead.
•
In February, I sent him a draft of a short story I was working on. The narrator goes on a research trip with her boyfriend and falls for a woman she meets. The story was patchy, too full of clichés, and overly romantic, but the response my brother sent back was gold. This time, his letter was typewritten, just like my story.
I read it twice the day it arrived. Does that tell you anything? I really liked it. I was surprised by how much I liked it (don’t be insulted, even though you probably should be. I haven’t read anything of yours since you were 10 or something.) To prove I’m not just saying it’s good, I’ll
tell you what I didn’t like about it.
He followed with three pages of detailed feedback, most of it pointing out the parts of the story he thought were strong. He called one sentence “firstrate short-story writing”. I’ll never get a review that will feel as good, as important, as that one. At the end of his feedback, he wrote:
Have you sent a copy home? I got a letter from Mum asking whether I’d seen the story; that she hadn’t. I plan to write tonight. I shall be discreet. Which brings me to the other point about the story: it seems to reflect the stage your own explorations were at when you last wrote. That is, what was in your mind, as opposed to what you might actually have done about it. Toying with the idea, so to speak — almost as if the story was a continuation of the process of “trying it on” mentally.
•
By 1986, I was writing and editing for a grassroots feminist newspaper, getting politicized, organizing IWD marches, and going to Women’s Night at the gay bar in Halifax. My brother wrote to me in February.
I’m not sure where you’re at right now, although the letter you sent just before Christmas provided a couple of clues. I was surprised to learn that sexual orientation was still (or again) an open question for you. I remember it coming up awhile ago, and then when things fell into place with [your boyfriend] I naively assumed that the whole matter had been settled. Now I learn that things are more complicated than ever, and on several levels! I’m not sure whether I envy you more for the process you are going through, which is clearly exciting and fascinating, or sympathize with the difficulties it presents, because they are real and potentially painful. I get the impression that you are approaching all of this with your usual, levelheaded and open-minded attitude.
I’m not sure what I wrote to give him that impression. I remember that time in my life feeling tumultuous and confusing. I probably needed the reminder, from someone who had known me my whole life, that I really was okay. Also, a reminder that I was just beginning this work of discovering my own identity. At the end of a long paragraph he wrote:
We don’t choose our sexual orientation but we do have to figure it out for ourselves. If this were spoken instead of written I’d be out of breath by now.
I can picture him pausing, chewing on his thumbnail, then maybe lighting a smoke, before putting his pen on the paper again.
There is one thing I have no hesitation in saying. If you’re attracted to someone physically or even just curious, and if the relationship is non-exploitive and has clearly established groundrules, by all means let it happen. Maybe it already has. The biggest obstacle to sexual exploration of that kind is guilt; it is also the least rational, since guilt and morality are irrelevant to the situation I’ve just described. The risks are emotional ones — entanglements, confusion about people’s feelings for each other. But you will know far more about yourself if you take such a step than if you avoid it, because you will know whether it feels right. I have a crystal-clear recollection of how astounded I was the
first few times I had half-decent sexual encounters with men — it felt so right, like it was what I was made for sexually.
He followed with three pages of detailed feedback, most of it pointing out the parts of the story he thought were strong.
•
Later that same year I produced an article called “Politics of Bisexuality” for the feminist newspaper. I wrote, for the first time in a public forum, “I think of myself as bisexual.” I went on to describe all the ways that disclosure felt risky, important, powerful, and how I thought bisexuals needed to be more visible.
I don’t know if I sent my brother a copy of that article. Our correspondence had already begun to shift. In his next letter he wrote about a friend who was dying of AIDS and how this was probably the first of many in his circle. Then he began writing about his own treatments and prognosis. I don’t think I was a very good correspondent; too wrapped up in my own work and relationships, too afraid of facing his suffering.
The last letter I have is dated July 1991, five months before he died, a breezy thank you note for a gift I’d sent (a framed photo of him I’d taken during his last visit to Nova Scotia). There was no mention of illness, only a complaint about the dreadful Toronto heat.
Thirty-plus years later, I’m living in Toronto, complaining about the heat, working with queer elders, and still writing about bisexuality. My brother’s ghost seems close by, especially when I’m in the Village, near the AIDS memorial in Barbara Hall Park where his name is neatly printed alongside so many others.
I know that his advice to me, written in those letters, gave me the confidence I needed to keep exploring my sexuality. Maybe I’m still writing letters to my brother, looking to him for advice, reassurance, encouragement to keep on trying to figure it out. //
Previously published in Train: a Poetry Journal .
CONSPIRACY OF LOVE
BY SHAZIA HAFIZ RAMJI
you loved like a conspirator against everything that has power to defeat us
—Anne Michaels
The problem with trying to one-up yourself is not that you might die by your own hands, but that you’ll be able to justify why without feeling anything. When you were in withdrawal, alone in your bed, the salt from the sweat pressed on the mattress was testimony to what you allowed: “I am Satan, because I deal in language.” The next day, you had stopped shaking. You went to work secular and clean. There were no other addicts and you didn’t speak. You know that lies look beautiful unified, all parts clicking together, lighting up your eyes. They are old technology made new, sleek and gleaming in crevasses like fog rolling around Renfrew and you’re awake today to see it, because you’ve been brave. You’ve noticed your friend has listened and told you very boring things—not dismissed them as errands. This is the task you will have to do, soon enough, remembering all the ways your mind moved—to write yourself into a poem you want to call “Conspiracy of Love.” When the guy from Tinder said hi to you in school, it didn’t strike you that he might know you from the Internet. You didn’t remember who he was, not even when he called you by your fake name. All you thought was, “I can’t do this again. I want to be clean. I want to be Shazia.” If you end this poem here, it might make sense, but we both know this kind of work is occult. So, you have to ask me: How do you want to finish this poem? You have to leave it there. That way, at least it’s not about you anymore.
2018
RACISM IN THE CANADIAN BOOK PUBLISHING INDUSTRY
BY ORVILLE LLOYD DOUGLAS
Imagine opening your eyes, yet feeling like you are invisible. Imagine listening to the television or the radio and being told that your nation is a tolerant place of racial harmony—while knowing that the truth is a lie. The Canada that I see on CBC Television has nothing to do with me—except, of course, if there is news about a black male committing a crime, or some bit of entertainment about a black rapper like Drake.
The image of Canada which is presented to the world is a white image—one of hockey, cold winters, Molson beer, polar bears, and snow. This is of course a stereotype, but it is a stereotype that underpins much of how Canada is viewed by the rest of the world, and it automatically displaces Canadian people who are not white. This is true of the televised media world, and the world of books and publishing is no better.
Books play an important role a nation’s history because they offer written records and accounts of a nation that can be traced through time. The books of Canada—that is, this country’s written records and accounts of its history—offer a myth that the Canadian book publishing industry is progressive and inclusive of all writers regardless of their race. Yet this is a facade. The international success of Alice Munro and fellow white Canadian author Margaret Atwood masks a severe problem with the Canadian book pub -
lishing industry—its subversive racism. Canadians pride ourselves on being open-minded and politically correct, yet another well-worn aspect of Canadian culture is polite bigotry. This polite bigotry underpins how the Canadian book industry operates in relation to non-white writers.
All too often, a dialogue about the issue of race makes white Canadians uncomfortable. Race, and racial issues, is something that Canadian culture and literature choose to ignore—because for a long time, simply avoiding the abhorrent bigotry in the Canadian book publishing industry was enough to convince many people that it didn’t exist.
The “traditional”, myopic, snow-covered image of Canada is a Eurocentric one, which displaces and renders Canadians of colour invisible. Likewise, Canadian
Since literary fiction has been the domain of white writers for so long, it follows that Canadian literature is focused around white writers.
literature is also very Eurocentric and espouses the same qualities—myopism, snobbery, elitism—that render Canadian writers of colour invisible. The image of Canada that is presented to the world through books is a white image.
To begin with: Canadian literature is biased toward the literary fiction genre, with the overall attitude that in order to be a good writer a writer, must write in the literary way. Since literary fiction has been the domain of white writers for so long, it follows that Canadian literature is focused around white writers. Yet what about the stories of Canadian people who are not white? For instance, a few years ago, I attempted to get a poetry book published in Canada. Over and over, I was told some variation of the same thing: “ Sorry, it’s really interesting but it doesn’t fit our list very well. Best luck with it.”
It’s one simple sentence, but it hurts every time. Every single writer is cognizant of the fact that rejection is a part of the game of writing. Writing is kind of like dating—you have to impress the publisher or editor to publish your work, and rejection inevitably hurts in the same way. And like dating, writing also has biases and prejudices, because the gatekeepers who decide whether a manuscript gets published base that decision on their personal feelings. While it
is true that publishers do also make decisions based on researching their audience and understanding the demographics of the readers and audiences they are trying to reach, Canadian publishers are less willing to take a chance on a Black Canadian writer when compared to a white Canadian writer.
The response that this particular Canadian poetry editor had for my poetry manuscript was opaque, but beneath the surface her statement was subversive. While she didn’t directly say, “Look, you are an openly gay Black Canadian man and we don’t want to publish Black writers and we don’t know how to market you,” I personally would have preferred this answer, because at least it would mean that she had been honest.
My reason for thinking this is simple: this particular Canadian publisher does publish gay writers, but these writers tend to only be white. This Canadian publisher only published one book by a Black Canadian—Dionne Brand. Brand is an amazing writer—she is an educated professor who works at the University of Guelph—but her standpoint in society is that of a senior citizen. I checked the catalogue of this Canadian book publisher and the fact Brand is the only Black Canadian they have published speaks volumes. There are many talented Black Canadian writers who don’t get a chance to, NOT being white.
It is no secret that the Canadian publishing industry is much smaller than the American or even the British publishing industry. In Canada, the number of literary agents who are willing and able to take on new clients is also, likewise, small. Visit a Canadian bookstore and you will see that there is a paucity of books being published by young Black Canadian writers under the age of forty. The most prolific Black writers in Canada—writers like George Elliott Clarke, Nalo Hopkinson, Dionne Brand, and Lawrence Hill—are all over the age of fifty! These Black Canadian writers have all achieved acclaim in Canada and abroad, and so the Canadian book publishing industry doesn’t make an effort to nurture younger Black talent because they feel like they don’t need to.
And yet, despite this, if you visit any bookstore in any major Canadian city you’ll see a stereotypical Black Books section with few Canadian titles—the majority of the books are from African American writers such as Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, or Terry McMillan. Despite the success of the aforementioned Black Canadian writers, Canadian publishers are happy to continue to displace even them. The Canadian book publishing industry isn’t doing enough to allow the voices and words of a new generation of Black writing to emerge or to continue celebrating those Black writers who have achieved widespread success.
Although some people believe that the Canadian publishing industry only judges a writer in relation to their use of grammar, originality, tone, and structure, I would argue that Black writers—and all writers of colour—are also judged on our race and sexual orientation. The fact is, book publishers in Canada are trying to reach a white, predominantly straight audience. Since I am a gay Black man, the ideology of some editors is they cannot market my work to Black heterosexuals. And since I am a gay person of colour, even the gay publishing arena in Canada—which caters mostly to gay people who are white—remains closed to me.
There is very little fiction or non-fiction published in Canada specifically about the Black Canadian gay male experience.
The Canadian book publishing industry is a lot like high school—there is an “in crowd” of writers, and the majority of these writers, this “in-crowd” that are praised by the industry, tend to be white. Once in a while, a token writer of colour may receive praise from the Canadian publishing industry—such as Esi Edugyan, the author of Half Blood Blues, or Lawrence Hill, the author of The Book Of Negroes—and these instances are almost always held up as examples of racial diversity in the Canadian publishing industry. Yet one of my concerns about Black writing in particular is that it is often pigeon-holed—why, in order for a Black writer to become successful, is it assumed that he or she must write about slavery? Why can’t we make space for new stories?
There is very little fiction or non-fiction published in Canada specifically about the Black Canadian gay male experience. Our lives—they do matter. Young gay Black men experience an incredible amount of oppression and racism from both the Black heterosexual community and the white queer community. As a result of this, I often feel caught between two worlds. I want to give voice to this struggle. And so I write for the voiceless. I write to expose the fact that Canada as a utopian, multicultural paradise is a façade.
And while I don’t have a solution to these questions I have asked myself, I am also not giving up. My second poetry book, Under My Skin, came out with Guernica Editions in May of 2014. It was a long journey, and a struggle. My hope is as I continue to write, that the journey will become easier for other writers like me.
//
2017
OTHERED STORIES
BY LEONARDA CARRANZA
In 2016 The New Quarterly embarked on a twoyear project to identify new, diverse literary voices they could support and to build genuine and lasting diversity into the structure of the arts organization as a whole.
Beginning in February 2016, Pamela Mulloy and Susan Scott began meeting once a month with three emerging nonfiction writers, all former students of Ayelet Tsabari. Leonarda Carranza was one of the members of this focus group and continues to take part in this project.
The New Quarterly asked each writer to blog about her experience of trying to break into the literary world. Here is Leonarda Carranza’s story.
A Voices from the FOLD: Year 2 original essay.
1.I spend a weekend with TNQ, the summer 2014 issue which I recently received as a gift. I gravitate towards the only author I know. It’s a hot spring day and I spend the morning sitting in my backyard hearing Ayelet Tsabari’s voice as she tells me of her journey towards writing in English. The next day I venture further inwards. Spend the morning with Two Poems, Kristine Tortora, and feel I found something about the familiar and the faraway, something I still can’t language.
2.
In my day job and work with the Pages on Fire Collective, I facilitate writing workshops for newcomers and youth. These terms are not mutually exclusive—some youth are also newcomers. The people that participate in my workshops are predominantly people of colour, mostly women and young girls. They arrive at community centres, elementary public schools and libraries, reluctantly. Some come with an interest in writing, but most come out of loneliness, in an attempt to meet others facing the same isolation and disorientation that comes with leaving cultures, communities, parents and grandparents behind. Together we move through parts of the city people outside of these neighbourhoods rarely see. These are not the spaces imagined as the future of Canada’s literary scene but these are spaces filled with writers. They are spaces in Mississauga and Brampton, deep inside low income neighbourhoods, surrounded by low-rise buildings, and suburban homes.
At first, room after room of participants will introduce themselves as non-writers. As people who do not like to write, who do not enjoy writing, who can’t write, and sometimes, who fear writing. What brings them to these spaces is sometimes a hidden love of writing, a love of storytelling, and sometimes a curiosity about the possibility of writing in English.
In my workshops I tell participants to suspend their knowledge of grammar, spelling and punctuation and their valorization of these rules. If they don’t know the rules, I say, even better. I tell them we are going to write and share our stories. They do not have to write in English, but they can if they want to, and most of them do.
I have grown used to the hesitation to write, the fear of putting parts of ourselves on paper, and the fear of opening up and sharing our work with others. I understand it more as a fear of being shamed and mostly of being humiliated. Often I’ve heard from my writing instructors that fear is part of the DNA of writing, and while I agree, I know there is something different, sometimes more menacing about learning to write in English as a person of colour. Writing is especially terrifying when you have felt rejected or humiliated because of your race, accent or skin colour. The experience of racism and white supremacy has a way of impacting the body and often there is a deep feeling of fear associated with writing.
I know this from my own experience as a writer, as someone who came to Canada as a refugee, as someone who didn’t speak a word of English. Some of my first experiences of learning to speak in English are experiences of ridicule. The way I communicate in
English is affected by the communities of colour that surrounded me throughout my childhood. My language practices, the way I stitch words together, also reflects the variety of ways of communicating across languages.
3.
Often co-workers, colleagues, brilliant women of colour will approach me and tell me they are also afraid of writing. Often, they speak of painful experiences of feeling shamed and silenced in classrooms. Often, they say they feel like they will never know enough or feel safe enough to write in English. Sometimes, these are people of colour who learned English as a second language. They are often people who speak with accents of lesser value, accents connected to Third World spaces and brown and black bodies. In workshops, the writers are the most surprised to find electrifying pieces of writing hidden deep inside of them, pieces that cut through the space, into our bodies, pieces that often leave us breathless.
4.A few weeks ago, my co-worker produces one of the most beautiful pieces of poetry that I have ever read. The piece is so evocative that when we read it to people in our department, one woman nods and holds the emotion tightly in her jaw. Later, she tells me she
had to force herself not to cry. The piece surprises my co-worker who has been writing for years and working on a memoir but who hesitates to see herself as a writer. The ability to produce work with meaning that moves through and between bodies is powerful. It is a gift some of these women hold but have felt silenced from. And we are all poorer as a result of this silencing.
5.In a recent meeting with Pamela Mulloy, editor of TNQ, I am not surprised to find she describes the writing published by TNQ as elevated and polished. I write these two words down in my notebook and spend the next two weeks thinking about them and how they produce and exclude the boundaries that determine what writing goes into TNQ and what is left out. I find the definition of polished particularly significant: naturally smooth and glossy as well as flawless; skillful; excellent. I know it would be almost impossible for the participants in my workshops to describe their work as either polished or elevated. Most times, the work is peppered with creative spelling and missing prepositions, but it is in this work and with these stories of migration and loss that I feel most at home. The work is flawed in the same way that language is flawed, and always almost out of reach.
6.
I tell participants, there is no one that can write like you. No one has your particular voice and experience, and this matters. The immediacy of their experiences with migration, loss and displacement comes alive in their pieces, and I know I am the one that is most indebted for having the opportunity to hear these stories. These pieces would not exist had we not arrived in these places and met week after week to write our stories.
That these stories are not being represented in our national literature is not surprising. How they come to be excluded is much more nuanced and confusing. Don’t we wake up every morning and consciously or unconsciously construct and maintain white heteronormative spaces? Granted some of us have more power in these decisions than others. And yet does the realization that stories from newcomers are out there, that Other stories are being written, does it lead publishers and editors to question and think about the multitude of ways that these stories come to be left out of their literary spaces?
That part of the ways we participate in constructing exclusionary white literary spaces is through self-censorship is surprising. Some of us are assuming that there is no place for us in TNQ and Canadian literature. Literature is elevated and the writing we produce is not above us but flows within us. We fear our syntax and writing practices will reveal our outsiderness and will exclude us from these spaces.
A Canadian literary magazine should be representative of Canada’s diversity yet, through often subtle practices, we not only learn to keep our stories out of these spaces, but also to identify as non-writers, to associate writing with elevation and privilege and power and to feel ourselves as not belonging to these spaces.
7.Recently, I trained participants to facilitate their own writing workshops. As we gathered to prepare for eight sessions of writing this piece emerged. It is now hanging on our writing board.
We are the most confused generation
And we are always wondering why did we come here
We came for him and he doesn’t care about us anymore
Respect is different here Bond between parents and grandparent is loose here
And old stories have lost their meaning
And we are always wondering Why did we come here? 1 //
1. Collectively written piece, produced in collaboration with Jyotichhanda Dey, Moona Khan and Leonarda Carranza
Jude Griebel, Gaining Ground (detail), 2019
2016
POST-TRANSITION: WHO MIGHT WE BE
BY CHASE JOYNT
Someone once asked me if I thought my experiences over the years with depression and anxiety were related to my being trans. My youthful inclination was to immediately say no, as I was steadfastly resistant to any relationship people might propose between trans and sickness or pathology or pain. But recent news of three suicides in the FtM community has inspired me to amend that response, as the correlations between trans and mental health are far more complicated than they seem, even as I continue to assert that “being trans” is not the experience and/or circumstance that is inherently to blame.
I’m not particularly interested in people making conclusions about my mental health for me, nor am I invested in these linear narratives that rely on formulas such as: “being trans” = “generally stigmatized and unsupported life choice” = “depression”. There are lots of reasons why my mental health is impacted in this world; the fact that transphobia is anxiety producing and depressing just happens to be one of the most straightforward.
As a trans person, I oft characterize myself as ‘having transitioned’, as if to say that the details, the journey and the process of this metamorphosis are long in my past and therefore not included in my present or invited into my future. Operating within this framework has made it easier for me to isolate emotions,
experiences and even people into categories of pre, during and post transition; and as such affords me the luxury of leaving things behind in search of stories that are better, more accurate and yet unclaimed.
The recognition of this storytelling strategy has revealed profound flaws in my transition-related life logic. Living a life that I identify as being post-transition, or is identified by broader social opinion as such, means unknowingly characterizing the most intimate and vulnerable parts of my life as being in the past and therefore not with me today. And though I feel like my life is exponentially smoother in various capacities than it once was, such a summary of me would be nothing short of insufficient, inaccurate and ultimately ignoring of various other realities, like shame.
For example, if I was beyond trans (as a result of transitioning), I might not still think about my genitals every time I’m in the men’s room. If my transition was
I’m not particularly interested in people making conclusions about my mental health for me, nor am I invested in these linear narratives that rely on formulas ...
actually something of the past, I might not still internalize other people’s mismanagement of my identity as being my fault. And if I really did believe the transition story that I tell others, I might not still worry that the choices I have made to live in this life, in this body, will render me unlovable to those I need and want most.
What is most striking to me about this conversation is the way in which I have taken it upon myself “post-transition” to be personally beyond the crisis of these initial conversations. Perhaps it’s because I feel my life and identity moving away from broader trans narratives, perhaps it’s because I’m an artist and have internalized the need to distance and re-contextualize the trauma into something career worthy…or perhaps it’s my ego defending a prior more vulnerable version of myself from ever having to walk in the world again feeling so alone and unprotected.
My ability to think through my mental health differently shifted while sitting in a café with a prominent Toronto writer as she shamelessly talked to me about her own experiences with anxiety. Up until that point, anxiety had been my secret, hidden in my youth by booze
and bravado and hidden in adulthood by what I can only summarize as a fortunate combination of comic timing and well-refined public speaking skills. In that moment, I realized that she had part of what I was looking for. She wasn’t overly packaged, she wasn’t highly rehearsed, she was quite simply attempting to integrate who she was then, with who she is now, all the while knowing that it might not be who she will be in the future.
Trying to process through the impact of these devastating suicides reminds me that I am not yet good at having these conversations, and that in part, I rely on my post-trans reputation as a way in which to avoid these vulnerabilities. It makes me wonder if our community is doing a disservice to those whom are working the front lines of trans-related care and service by relying upon the fact that they appear to be doing “ok”. I wonder how many times we draw conclusions about our community leaders, our public figures and even our peers based on assumptions we make about their age, their visibility, or their distance from transitioning. I wonder how many people who resonate with a “post-trans” sensibility live as unaffected as they seem, or if perhaps it’s time to re-open conversations about who we were, who we are, and the myriad of things in this world that continue to impact and shape who we might be. //
The Ampersand Review of Writing & Publishing is a a literary magazine published by Sheridan College. We publish poetry, fiction, creative non-fiction, essays, interviews, and book reviews.
“After seeing how much of the world of CanLit is routed in oppression, it’s refreshing to be surrounded by good people doing good work to change things for the better. Above all, the FOLD fills me with hope.” — ALYA SOMAR FOLD PLANNING ADVISORY TEAM
Creative Writing & Publishing at Sheridan College
Issue No. 7 out now!
FESTIVAL AT A
SUNDAY,
9am SUNRISE WRITING SPRINT with Island Scribe
12
1
2
VIRTUAL EVENTS
David A. & Tanya Talaga
APRIL 30
IN-PERSON EVENTS (DOWNTOWN BRAMPTON)
THURSDAY, MAY 1
GROUPS: GENRE STUDENTS AT THE ROSE: FINDING FAMILY with David A. Robertson & Tanya Talaga
FRIDAY, MAY 2
SATURDAY, MAY 3
PUBLISHING 101: An In-Person Workshop with Léonicka Valcius
SUNDAY, MAY 4
CRITICAL CONVERSATIONS: A Panel Discussion A LITERARY HIGH TEA AT ALDERLEA LEARN:
STUDENTS AT THE ROSE: THE SPOKEN WORD MEET & GREET:
HEALTH WELL-BEING FICTION
SCREENWRITING WORKSHOP with Saleema Nawaz
NOVEL IDEAS: A Panel Discussion BROTHER Film Screening and Author Talk-Back
with Ozoz Sokoh & Shade Lapite
MOST SESSIONS ARE CLOSED CAPTIONED*
* The Writing Sprint and Writer’s Hub virtual events are NOT closed captioned.
Paint & Poetry Night, Spoken Word, Publishing 101 & Screenwriting workshops, Eat the Books, Literary High Tea, and Meet & Greet in-person events are NOT closed-captioned.
VIRTUAL IN-PERSON
THE ROSE THEATRE 1 Theatre Lane
PEEL ART GALLERY MUSEUM & ARCHIVES 9 Wellington Street West
ALDERLEA MANOR 40 Elizabeth Street South
SCHOOL GROUP EVENTS
Mattea Roach
FESTIVAL SCHEDULE
SUNDAY, APRIL 27
SUNRISE WRITING SPRINT
9:00am –10:30am ET
Simone Dalton, founder and host of Island Scribe Writing Retreats, leads writers in a writing sprint to prompt reflection and creativity. Come ready for an hour-and-a-half writing experience. This session takes place in meeting mode, providing guests with the option to see one another by turning their cameras on.
FOLD KICK-OFF PARTY
11:00am – 11:45am ET
Celebrate 10 years of the Festival of Literary Diversity with the FOLD team ! We’re kicking off the 2025 festival with our annual opening trivia event. Join us for the party and the chance to win exclusive book prizes. This session takes place in meeting mode, providing guests with the option to see one another by turning their cameras on.
CANADA READS ALL-STARS
12:00pm – 1:00pm ET
Executive Director and Canada Reads superfan Jael Richardson moderates our annual Canada Reads conversation with a panel of Canada Reads All-Stars. Enjoy this powerful virtual event where CanLit legends discuss the impact of Canada Reads on their careers and the Canadian publishing landscape. This event will be followed by a meet-andgreet where fans can join a virtual conversation with the authors.
THE SH*T NO ONE TELLS YOU ABOUT WRITING
2:00pm – 3:30pm ET
In this annual podcast recording event, Bianca Marais , CeCe Lyra and Carly Watters —co-hosts of The Sh*t No One Tells You About Writing—conduct their popular “Books With Hooks” segment live with guest host, literary agent Marin Takikawa . Find out what it takes to capture the attention of literary agents in this behind-the-scenes review of query letters and opening pages from the slush pile.
THE WRITER’S HUB
3:30pm – 5:00pm ET
Meet publishers, agents and editors, and other writing organizations at our annual The Writer’s Hub. Drop into a variety of virtual conversations and discover how to navigate the industry from a wide range of publishing professionals.
COMMUNITY IN CONFLICT
Trivia Event 7:00pm – 7:30pm ET PANEL 7:30pm – 8:30pm ET
In these contentious times authors Kagiso Lesego Molope , Sheung-King , and Andrea Currie discuss the ways they find meaningful connections and build community in the midst of conflict. This event will be followed by a meet-and-greet where fans can join a virtual conversation with the authors. This event is sponsored by Literary Press Group.
MONDAY, APRIL 28
SUCCESS IN SELF-PUBLISHING
10:00am – 11:00am ET
The rise of self-publishing has fundamentally changed the world of books. The FOLD’s new Program Coordinator Hudson Lin leads a timely conversation with self-published authors Tao Wong , Katia Rose , and Alicia Ellis about how the shift in publishing models has impacted their writing careers and the publishing industry as a whole.
LUNCH N’ LEARN: FICTION WORKSHOP: THE POWER OF IMAGERY WITH DENISE DA COSTA
12:00pm – 1:00pm ET
Delve into the world of storytelling through the use of sensory details and vivid descriptions in an immersive writing workshop focused on the art of imagery. Whether you’re an emerging or seasoned writer, this workshop by fiction author Denise Da Costa will help you create memorable images and descriptions that linger in the minds of your readers long after the story is over.
This event is sponsored by the Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing at Guelph.
THE BUSINESS OF PUBLISHING
2:00pm – 3:00pm ET
In this Business of Publishing panel, literary agents Carly Watters and Marin Takikawa , and editor Anita Chong share their insights into how the publishing industry has changed in the past decade and where the industry is headed in the next decade.
THE IMPACT OF A.I. ON PUBLISHING WITH ALICIA ELLIS
4:00pm – 5:00pm ET
In this publishing industry workshop, author and lawyer Alicia Ellis will address the rise of artificial intelligence. How has it affected the industry, what are some common misconceptions, and how can publishing professionals equip themselves for a future with AI.
MONSTERS IN MY MIND: A MENTAL HEALTH CONVERSATION
Trivia Event 7:00pm – 7:30pm ET PANEL 7:30pm – 8:30pm ET
Join authors David A. Robertson , K. J. Aiello, Samantha Jones , and moderator Kate Gies as they engage in an open and honest conversation about mental health, reflecting on the joys and challenges of documenting their experiences in their latest books. This event will be followed by a meet-and-greet where viewers can join a virtual conversation with the authors. This event is sponsored by Second Story Press.
TUESDAY, APRIL 29
SCHOOL GROUPS: WRITING A BOOK…HOW? WITH KYO LEE
9:45am – 10:45am ET
In this workshop with poet Kyo Lee , emerging teen writers will kick-start their journey into a long-term writing project by learning to build sustainable writing routines and exploring different strategies to garner creative momentum. From selecting an idea to finishing the last page, Lee will cover practical tips for starting to write, writing, and continuing to write.
LUNCH N’ LEARN: NON-FICTION WORKSHOP: MEMOIR & CARE WITH K.J. AIELLO
12:00pm – 1:00pm ET
In this workshop with memoir author K. J. Aiello, participants will learn the basics of memoir writing, including the “what” and “why” of their memoir, narrative arc and authorial voice, how to write about difficult topics and themes, writing trauma with care, and identifying your boundaries. The workshop will be interactive with writing prompts being provided. This event is sponsored by the Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing at Guelph.
SCHOOL GROUPS: THE WRITER’S LIFE WITH JUDY I. LIN
1:15pm – 2:15pm ET
In this edition of The Writer’s Life series, young adult author Judy I. Lin discusses her career as an occupational therapist, her path to becoming an author, and her writing process for her latest horror novel, The Dark Becomes Her. Moderated by the FOLD’s Kids Program Coordinator Ardo Omer, this interview will showcase Lin’s publishing journey, writing tips, and more.
INTERVIEW WITH KATE GIES
4:00pm – 5:00pm ET
In this one-on-one interview, the FOLD’s Program Coordinator Hudson Lin will chat with author Kate Gies about her memoir, It Must Be Beautiful To Be Finished. As the FOLD’s 2025 WriterIn-Residence, Gies will share insights into her writing process, publishing journey, and more.
This event is sponsored by Simon & Schuster.
TALKING GENRE
Trivia Event 7:00pm – 7:30pm ET PANEL 7:30pm – 8:30pm ET
Romance, science fiction, fantasy, mystery and thrillers all rely on unique storytelling strengths that influence character, plot, setting, and more. Join romance author Ruby Barrett , science fiction author Suzan Palumbo, romance-turned-mystery author Uzma Jalaluddin , and moderator Kerry C. Byrne as they discuss how genre fiction can showcase marginalized stories in fresh and unexpected ways. This event will be followed by a meet-and-greet where viewers can join a virtual conversation with the authors .
This event is sponsored by ECW Press.
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 30
SCHOOL GROUPS: CRAFTING GENRE FOR TEENS
9:45am – 10:45am ET
In this panel conversation for high school students, three young adult authors— Jumata Emill , Coltrane Seesequasis , and Anna Sortino —along with moderator Ameema Saeed , discuss the strengths and challenges of working within different genres and why they chose their particular genre.
LUNCH N’ LEARN: POETRY WORKSHOP: EMBRACING THE CRINGE WITH DANIEL MALUKA
12:00pm – 1:00pm ET
This workshop by artist and poet Daniel Maluka will teach participants how to “embrace the cringe” when writing poetry. Participants will be given writing prompts based on images and learn how to be more honest in their poetry.
This event is sponsored by the Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing at Guelph.
SCHOOL GROUPS: MENTAL HEALTH AND WELL-BEING IN YOUNG ADULT FICTION
1:15pm – 2:15pm ET
In this panel conversation for high school students, three young adult authors— Mackenzie Angeconeb, Tanya Boteju , and Judy I. Lin —along with moderator Alyssa GrayTyghter, discuss mental health and well-being, the pursuit of perfection, and grief experienced by the teen characters in their novels.
THE JOURNEY PRIZE: A SHORT STORY CONVERSATION
Trivia Event 7:00pm – 7:30pm ET PANEL 7:30pm – 8:30pm ET
In this panel moderated by Jack Wang , short story authors John Elizabeth Stintzi, Iryn Tushabe, and Shashi Bhat discuss the power of delivering short but meaningful stories and the incredible impact of the short story format. This event celebrates 30 years of the Journey Prize. This event will be followed by a meet-and-greet where viewers can join a virtual conversation with the authors.
This event is sponsored by Penguin Random House.
THURSDAY, MAY 1
STUDENTS AT THE ROSE: FINDING FAMILY WITH DAVID A. ROBERTSON AND TANYA TALAGA
10:00am – 11:00am ET
Cree author David A. Robertson and Anishinaabe author Tanya Talaga dive into their family histories to understand more about themselves and where they come from. This in-person event, geared toward high school students, will explore the importance of identity, origin stories, and generational knowledge with moderator Alyssa Gray-Tyghter.
This event is held at the Rose Theatre at 1 Theatre Ln in downtown Brampton.
This event is sponsored by Penguin Random House.
STUDENTS AT THE ROSE: THE SPOKEN WORD
12:30pm – 1:30pm ET
In our annual spoken word showcase, three poets— Wali Shah, Lisa Shen and Joshua “Scribe” Watkis —take the mic and perform incredible poetry. This event is hosted by rapper Spitty and is geared towards high school students. A Q&A with the poets will follow!
This event is held at the Rose Theatre at 1 Theatre Ln in downtown Brampton.
PAINT & POETRY NIGHT WITH DANIEL MALUKA
7:30pm – 9:00pm ET
Enjoy a memorable night of painting at the Peel Art Gallery, Museum and Archives! The PAMA team will lead guests in the creation of canvas art inspired by the poetry collection Unwashed by Toronto-based poet, Daniel Maluka. No experience necessary. 14+.
This event will take place at Peel Art Gallery, Museum and Archives at 9 Wellington St West in downtown Brampton. Street parking and public parking lots are available within 50–200 metres of the entrance.
$20/person. Tickets available until April 27.
FRIDAY, MAY 2
THE GREAT READCEPTION: A LITERARY CABARET
7:30pm – 9:30pm ET
In this popular annual event, six authors appearing at the festival read a sample of their work accompanied by a live jazz band. Whether you’re a regular FOLD attendee, a casual or compulsive reader, or simply a lover of live entertainment, witness the power of storytelling and the magic of a live musical performance at this collaborative event featuring Brampton’s own Carmen Spada
This event takes place at the Rose Theatre at 1 Theatre Ln in downtown Brampton. It will include light hors d’oeuvres prior to the event and a short intermission.
$25/person or included as part of the Rose Weekend Pass. Tickets available until April 27.
This event is sponsored by TD Bank.
SATURDAY,
MAY 3
PUBLISHING 101: AN IN-PERSON WORKSHOP
9:30am – 10:30am ET
Calling all aspiring authors! Join us for a morning crash course on the publishing industry and how you can get your foot in the door, led by literary agent Léonicka Valcius
This event is held at the Rose Theatre at 1 Theatre Ln in downtown Brampton. $15/person or included as part of the Rose Weekend Pass.
CRITICAL CONVERSATIONS:
A PANEL DISCUSSION
11:00am – 12:30pm ET
Difficult conversations are often the most important ones to have. In this highly-anticipated panel, moderated by CBC Bookends’ host Mattea Roach, authors Tanya Talaga, Amal Elsana Alh’jooj , and Morgan Campbell break down how to have conversations about highly divisive and often emotional topics in a constructive and uplifting way.
This event is held at the Rose Theatre at 1 Theatre Ln in downtown Brampton. $15/person or included as part of the Rose Weekend Pass. This event will be recorded for future broadcast on CBC Bookends.
. MEET & GREET: MATTEA ROACH
12:45pm –1:30pm ET • Critical Conversation attendees only
NOVEL IDEAS: A PANEL DISCUSSION
2:00pm – 3:30pm ET
Sometimes the best way to talk about something is to not talk about it. Led by moderator Lindo Forbes , authors R.F. Kuang , Amanda Leduc , and Suzan Palumbo will discuss how they created fictional worlds that send powerful messages about our reality.
This event is held at the Rose Theatre at 1 Theatre Ln in downtown Brampton. $15/person or included as part of the Rose Weekend Pass. This event is sponsored by HarperCollins Canada.
MEET & GREET: R.F. KUANG
4:00pm –4:45pm ET • Novel Ideas attendees only
EAT
THE BOOKS WITH OZOZ SOKOH AND SHADE LAPITE
5:30pm – 7:00pm ET
Books and food have a lot in common–they both provide lifegiving sustenance. In this FOLD specialty event, Nigerian-Canadian chef and author Ozoz Sokoh curates a menu based on her new cookbook. YA fantasy author Shade Lapite joins her in conversation about exploring identity, culture, and history through food.
This event is held at the Peel Art Gallery Museum and Archives at 9 Wellington St East in downtown Brampton. $45/person. Tickets available until April 27.
SPOKEN WORD SHOWCASE
7:30pm – 9:00pm ET
Spoken word host The Wild Woman returns to the Rose Studio to host an incredibly curated event of spoken word performances from Lisa Shen, Patrick de Belen, Joshua “Scribe” Watkis and Spitty
This event is held at the Rose Theatre at 1 Theatre Ln in downtown Brampton. $15/person or included as part of the Rose Weekend Pass.
SUNDAY, MAY 4
A LITERARY HIGH TEA AT ALDERLEA
11:00am – 1:00pm ET
The annual Sunday brunch is back! Don your Sunday best, assemble your fascinator, grab your friends, and join us for a delightful high tea with three incredible romance writers. This special-tea event includes fun trivia with incredible prizes.
This event is held at the historic Alderlea Manor at 40 Elizabeth St South in downtown Brampton. City of Brampton parking garages are available within 300 metres from the venue at 41 George Street South. Parking at Alderlea is reserved for service vehicles and guests with mobility needs. Please email info@ thefoldcanada.org if you require a space at Alderlea Manor.
$50/person. Tickets available until April 27.
This event is sponsored by Harlequin.
SCREENWRITING WORKSHOP WITH SALEEMA NAWAZ
1:30pm – 2:30pm ET
Author and screenwriter Saleema Nawaz will walk participants through the basics of storytelling for film and television.
This event is held at the Rose Theatre at 1 Theatre Ln in downtown Brampton. $15/person or included as part of the Rose Weekend Pass.
BROTHER: FILM SCREENING AND AUTHOR TALK-BACK
3:00pm – 6:00pm ET
Join us for a screening of Brother, the film adaptation of the award-winning novel by David Chariandy, which explores the relationship of two brothers from Scarborough. Prior to the screening is a virtual talk-back with the author.
This event is held at the Rose Theatre at 1 Theatre Ln in downtown Brampton. $15/person or included as part of the Rose Weekend Pass.
This event is held in partnership with Brampton Arts Organization and is sponsored by Algoma University.
FESTIVAL PARTICIPANTS
AUTHORS, POETS & PERFORMERS
JUMATA EMILL (he/him) is a journalist and author of books about Black kids who solve mysteries.
KJ AIELLO (they/them) is the author of The Monster and the Mirror.
KAMAL AL-SOLAYLEE (he/him) is the author of three nonfiction books: Intolerable (2012), Brown (2016), and Return (2021).
MACKENZIE ANGECONEB (she/her) is Anishinaabekwe from Lac Seul First Nation and she comes from a family known to be artists, this fuelled her to become the author that she is today.
RUBY BARRETT (she/her) writes steamy romances about big feelings, where mutual pleasure, pining, and healing are common themes. Ruby is a bi Canadian millenial Scorpio.
SHASHI BHAT (she/her) is the author of three books of fiction, most recently Death by a Thousand Cuts (McClelland & Stewart), longlisted for the Giller Prize.
TANYA BOTEJU (she/her) is a teacher and writer whose debut novel, Kings, Queens, and In-Betweens, was named a Top Ten Indie Next Pick by the American Booksellers Association.
MORGAN CAMPBELL (he/him) an award-winning sports writer, and the author of your next favourite book.
DAVID CHARIANDY (he/him) is a writer and critic.
ANITA CHONG (she/her) is the Editorial Director of Fiction at McClelland & Stewart, where she edits literary fiction and memoir and champions writers from traditionally underrepresented communities.
ANDREA CURRIE ’s (she/they) Finding Otipemisiwak: The People Who Own Themselves, weaves memoir, essay, and poetry to expose the loss, dislocation, and occasionally, healing experienced by survivors of the Sixties Scoop.
DENISE DA COSTA (she/her) is a Canadian author whose debut novel And the Walls Came Down (Dundurn 2023), was longlisted for the 2024 Toronto Book Award.
PATRICK DE BELEN (he/him) is a poet, filmmaker, educator, storyteller and community builder. His projects often explore themes of mental illness, the Filipino-Canadian experience, liberation, grief and healing.
ALICIA ELLIS (she/her) has been involved in indie publishing since 2012. She writes mystery, science fiction, and occasionally fantasy.
DR. AMAL ELSANA ALHJOOJ (she/her), author of Hope is a Woman’s Name, is an Indigenous Bedouin Palestinian activist and scholar exploring identity, feminism, and community organizing through her memoir.
KATE GIES (she/her) teaches creative nonfiction and expressive arts at George Brown College and is the author of It Must Be Beautiful To Be Finished: A Memoir Of My Body.
UZMA JALALUDDIN (she/her) in a GTA-based author, playwright, screenwriter and educator.
SAMANTHA JONES (she/her) is a poet, editor, and earth scientist based in Calgary, Alberta.
REBECCA F. KUANG (she/her) is the award-winning, #1 New York Times and #1 Sunday Times bestselling author of the Poppy War trilogy, Babel: An Arcane History, Yellowface, and Katabasis (forthcoming).
SHADE LAPITE ’s (she/her) debut novel, Goddess Crown, is a YA fantasy about a girl who discovers she is heir to the throne.
AMANDA LEDUC (she/her) is a Canadian writer and disability rights advocate whose latest novel, Wild Life, will be published in March 2025 by Random House Canada.
KYO LEE (she/her) is a Korean Canadian student and the author of the poetry collection i cut my tongue on a broken country (Arsenal Pulp Press).
KAGISO LESEGO MOLOPE (she/her) is a South AfricanCanadian novelist of four award-winning novels.
JUDY I. LIN (she/her) is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Book of Tea duology. She currently lives on the Canadian prairies.
CECE LYRA (she/her) is a literary agent representing adult fiction and nonfiction. She is drawn to books with strong hooks and smooth writing, told with originality, nuance, and authenticity.
DANIEL MALUKA (he/him), a Toronto-based artist and writer from South Africa, blends Afrocentrism and surrealism to reveal hidden depths of the mind through his evocative and thought-provoking work.
BIANCA MARAIS (she/her) is an author and cohost of the popular podcast, The Shit No One Tells You About Writing.
SALEEMA NAWAZ (she/her) is the author of Bone and Bread and Songs for the End of the World. She is currently writing a musical and working in a TV writers’ room.
SUZAN PALUMBO (she/her) is a Trinidadian Canadian writer of dark speculative fiction and the author of Countess and the award nominated short story collection Skin Thief: Stories.
K.D. RICHARDS (she/her) is a romantic suspense, thriller, and mystery author.
DAVID A. ROBERTSON (he/him) is an author, public speaker, and social advocate who lives and works in Treaty 1 territory.
KATIA ROSE (she/her) is a bestselling author of queer contemporary romances.
COLTRANE SEESEQUASIS (he/him) is a young fantasy writer of Willow Cree heritage who uses his love of nature as well as myths and folklore to bring the fantastical to life.
WALI SHAH (he/him) is a poet, author, and speaker. He is a voice for this generation, using spoken word poetry to shift perspectives.
LISA SHEN (she/her) is a writer and spoken word artist and the 2023-2025 Youth Poet Laureate of the City of Mississauga.
SHEUNG-KING (he/him) is the author of You are Eating an Orange. You are Naked (2020) and Batshit Seven (2024), which won the Atwood Gibson Writers’ Trust Fiction Prize.
SPITTY (he/him) is an Indian rapper and community leader from Brampton, Canada.
JOHN ELIZABETH STINTZI (they/she) is the award-winning author of the books Bad Houses, My Volcano, Vanishing Monuments and Junebat.
OZOZ SOKOH (she/her): Food explorer, ex-geologist, educator and traveler by plate. “Food is more than Eating”
ANNA SORTINO (she/her) is the award-winning author of On the Bright Side and Give Me a Sign.
MARIN TAKIKAWA (she/her) is an agent and foreign rights director at The Friedrich Agency.
TANYA TALAGA (she/her) is an award-winning and bestselling Anishinaabe author. Her book, The Knowing, retells Canadian history through an Indigenous lens, beginning with the life of her great-great grandmother, Annie Carpenter.
IRYN TUSHABE (she/her) is a Ugandan-Canadian writer and journalist.
KATHERENA VERMETTE (she/her) is a Michif writer from Treaty 1 territory, Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada.
JOSHUA “SCRIBE” WATKIS (he/him) is a poet worth his weight in feeling.
CARLY WATTERS (she/her) is a Senior Literary Agent at P.S. Literary Agency.
TAO WONG (he/him) is a full-time author in the scifi and fantasy genres, writing predominantly in the LitRPG and xianxia sub-genres.
MODERATORS
KERRY C. BYRNE (they/them) is a SFF writer and literary organizer. They lead Augur Society, including Augur Magazine; Tales & Feathers Magazine; AugurCon; and the upcoming Augur Press.
SIMONE DALTON (she/her), author and story steward, is the curator of Island Scribe, where she curates spaces and cultivates opportunities for women and nonbinary writers of colour.
LINDO FORBES (she/her) is a contemporary romance author. Her stories are a love letter to her hometown of Toronto and feature layered ladies falling in love.
ALYSSA GRAY-TYGHTER (she/her) is an equity-driven leader, educator, and storyteller exploring transformative learning, curriculum design, and digital storytelling to shape inclusive, justice-oriented narratives in education.
LAVANYA LAKSHMI (she/her) has worked in the book publishing industry for thirteen years and is on the board of directors for the Festival of Literary Diversity. Her debut novel, Leave And Come Back, will be published by Penguin Random House in 2026.
HUDSON LIN (she/her) is an author and the Program Coordinator at the Festival of Literary Diversity.
ARDO OMER (she/her) is a writer and the Kids Program Coordinator at the Festival of Literary Diversity.
JAEL RICHARDSON (she/her) is an author and the Executive Director of the Festival of Literary Diversity.
MATTEA ROACH (they/them) is the host of Bookends, an author interview show airing on CBC Radio and major podcasting platforms.
AMEEMA SAEED (she/her) is a book reviewer, a Sensitivity Reader, a book buyer at Indigo Books & Music, and the Books Editor for She Does the City, where she writes and curates bookish content, and book recommendations. When she’s not reading books, she likes to talk about books (especially diverse books, and books by diverse authors) on her bookstagram: @ReadWithMeemz
LÉONICKA VALCIUS (she/her) is a 2024 graduate from the Lincoln Alexander School of Law, and a Literary Agent at Transatlantic Agency.
JACK WANG (he/him) is the author of The Riveter (novel) and We Two Alone (stories), longlisted for Canada Reads 2022. He teaches at Ithaca College.
THE WILD WOMAN (she/her) is a 2x award winning spoken word artist, with a poetic career that spans over a decade.
PUBLISHING PROFESSIONALS
MARILYN BIDERMAN: Partner and Senior Literary Agent, Transatlantic Agency. Former Vice President, Director, Rights and Contracts, McClelland & Stewart. Member, Law Society of Ontario. Served on the founding executive of the Professional Association of Canadian Literary Agents, and on the organizing committee of the International Visitors Program of Toronto’s International Festival of Authors. Clients include Deepa Rajagopalan, Amanda Peters, and katherena vermette. Chairs professional development committee at the Transatlantic Agency. Based in Toronto.
HANA EL NIWAIRI is a Literary Agent and Rights Manager at CookeMcDermid. She leads the rights team in representing the works of agency authors outside of North America. As an agent, she works with authors writing in genre (fantasy, sci-fi, horror) and commercial fiction, as well as those writing in political non-fiction. Her clients include: Anuja Varghese, Ginella Massa, Joris Lechêne, Karen Lord, Shailee Thompson, and more.
BRENNA ENGLISH-LOEB works with authors of adult genre fiction and adult nonfiction, with select YA and crossover clients. In every genre she prioritizes beautiful writing,
exciting characters, and thought-provoking world building. She gravitates towards relationship-driven plots with personal stakes, and she loves stories with a sense of fun and adventure, even if they’re tackling serious subjects. And in all categories, she is always looking for works by authors from underrepresented groups and identities.
YASHASWI KESANAKURTHY is the Children’s Editor at Simon & Schuster Canada. She is a graduate of the University of British Columbia’s MA program in Children’s Literature and Toronto Metropolitan University’s publishing program. She lives in Toronto with a magical, if unruly, library that only keeps growing.
PIA SINGHAL is an acquiring editor at ECW Press, where she acquires both fiction and non-fiction. Her particular interest is in stories that humanize diverse characters by centralizing their universal experiences around relationships and self-discovery. Her belief is that reading is one of our best tools to build empathy, and these stories in particular have tremendous potential to do that. Before joining ECW Press, she worked at Westwood Creative Artists, and at Type Books.
MARIN TAKIKAWA is an agent and foreign rights director at The Friedrich Agency. Born in Tokyo and raised in Singapore and NYC, she joined TFA in early 2021 after getting her start at a mid-sized agency. She’s looking for genre-bending literary fiction, radical and community-driven narrative nonfiction, and voice-driven YA. Her clients have been supported by fellowships and awards from the National Endowment for the Arts, Tin House, We Need Diverse Books, among others.
LÉONICKA VALCIUS is a 2024 graduate from the Lincoln Alexander School of Law, and a Literary Agent at Transatlantic Agency. She represents books for children and adults with a focus on commercial and genre fiction by writers of color. Books she has worked on include The World So Wide by Zilla Jones, Wait Like A Seed by Erin Alladin, The Moonlight Blade by Tessa Barbosa.
PROGRAM CONTRIBUTORS
LEONARDA CARRANZA is the author of Abuelita & Me (Annick, 2022), Fighting Words, (Annick, 2024) and The Friendship Blanket (Scholastic, 2025). Her debut picture book, Abuelita and Me/Abuelita y yo, was a Kirkus Best Book of the Year, a gold medal winner at the 2022 International Latino Book Awards, and was nominated for a Bruce Spruce. Leonarda was born in San Salvador, El Salvador and currently resides in Treaty 19, part of the Treaty Lands and Territory of the Mississaugas of the Credit (Brampton, Ontario). She holds a PhD from the University of Toronto in Social Justice Education.
LEANNE CHARETTE (she/her) has cerebral palsy and writes from her experience as a disabled adoptee and mother. Her work has been published by CV2, Eavesdrop Magazine, PRISM International, and more. She lives on the Haldimand Tract, within the territory of the Anishnaabe, Haudenosaunee and Neutral peoples, in so-called Kitchener, Ontario with her husband and twin sons. Follow her on Instagram @leanne.charette.poet.
SHAZIA HAFIZ RAMJI is the author of Port of Being. Her writing is forthcoming in the 2024 Montreal International Poetry Prize anthology and the Literary Review of Canada. She lives in Vancouver, Toronto, and London, England, where she is at work on a novel and teaches creative writing.
JO JEFFERSON (they/them) is a queer/trans writer, parent, and community worker. Their short fiction, essays, and poetry have been published in a variety of literary journals and anthologies, and their novel, Lightning and Blackberries, was released in 2009. A transplanted Maritimer, Jo lives in the woods in Michi Saagiig Anishinabeg territory.
CHASE JOYNT is a non-fiction filmmaker and writer who works at the edges of genre. His documentary feature, Framing Agnes, was named a Best Movie of the Year by The New Yorker after premiering at the Sundance Film Festival where it won the NEXT Innovator Award and the NEXT Audience Award. His latest book Vantage Points was shortlisted for the Hilary Weston Writers’ Trust of Canada Prize for Nonfiction and named a Best Book of the Year by Autostraddle and CBC Books. With Samantha Curley, he runs Level Ground Productions in Los Angeles.
AMANDA LEDUC is a Canadian writer and disability rights advocate whose latest novel, Wild Life, will be published in March 2025 by Random House Canada.
ORVILLE LLOYD DOUGLAS is a Canadian poet & writer. He is author of two poetry books, You Don’t Know Me published by TSAR 2005 and Under My Skin by Guernica Editions 2014. His nonfiction work published in British newspaper The Guardian, New Zealand Herald, CBC opinion section in Canada.
VIVIAN (XIAO WEN) LI is a queer and neurodivergent writer and interdisciplinary artist, with works published in The Humber Literary Review, The Fiddlehead, QWERTY, and The New Quarterly, among others. The author of Someday I Promise, I’ll Love You (845 Press), she is the writer and director of three short films (as well as an award-winning video poem) that have premiered internationally in film festivals. A Banff Centre alumnus, she was Longlisted for the 2024 CBC Short Story Prize, and is a recent MFA graduate from the UBC School of Creative Writing. She can be reached @vivianlicreates, and will be looking for a home for her debut experimental novel.
SUSAN MOCKLER is a disabled writer living in Kingston Ontario. Her memoir, Fractured, which recounts her experience with acquired disability was published in 2022. Her fiction and nonfiction have appeared in journals in Canada and the United States.
RAHMA SHERE is a Pakistani-born Canadian Muslim of Indian ancestry. Since childhood, she has gravitated towards the arts to express herself in ways she couldn’t otherwise due to being born with a severe speech impediment. Rahma has been an active part of Toronto’s spoken word community, having led community arts organization SPEAKOUT Poetry in the last decade. Currently, she works at the Peel District School Board as a special education staff. In the community, Rahma volunteers at the FOLD and kicks butt as a kickboxing instructor. In her free time, she practices visual art, photography, creative writing and playing the piano.
ARTS FOR ALL ONTARIANS
Ontario Arts Council investment engages and strengthens Ontario communities.
LES ARTS POUR TOUT L’ONTARIO
L’investissement du Conseil des arts de l’Ontario anime et renforce les communautés ontariennes.
BOOK LIST
Alicia Ellis GIRL OF FLESH AND METAL
978-1939452542
Figmented Ink
Amal Elsana Alh’jooj
HOPE IS A WOMAN’S NAME
978-1990823770
Sutherland House Books
Amanda Leduc WILD LIFE
978-0735272873
Random House of Canada
Andrea Currie FINDING OTIPEMISIWAK
978-1551529554
Arsenal Pulp Press
Anna Sortino ON THE BRIGHT SIDE
978-0593697863
Penguin Young Readers Group
Coltrane Seesequasis SECRETS OF STONE
978-1928120421
Kegedonce Press
Daniel Maluka
UNWASHED
978-1774151686
Mawenzi House Publishers
David A. Robertson ALL THE LITTLE MONSTERS
978-1443472401
HarperCollins
David A. Robertson
52 WAYS TO RECONCILE
978-0771019357
McClelland & Stewart
David Chariandy BROTHER
978-0771023330
McClelland & Stewart
Denise Da Costa AND THE WALLS CAME DOWN
978-1459750364
Dundurn Press
Derek Mascarenhas THE MANGO MONSTER
978-1771475693
Owlkids Books
Ian Williams
WHAT I MEAN TO SAY
978-1487013424
House of Anansi Press
Iryn Tushabe EVERYTHING IS FINE HERE
978-1487013134
House of Anansi Press
John Elizabeth Stintzi BAD HOUSES
978-1551529615
Arsenal Pulp Press
Judy I. Lin
THE DARK BECOMES HER
978-1368099097
Disney Publishing Group
Jumata Emill WANDER IN THE DARK
978-0593651889
Random House Children’s Books
K.D. Richards THE PERFECT MURDER
978-1335457059
Harlequin
K. J. Aiello
THE MONSTER AND THE MIRROR
978-1770417083
ECW Press
Kagiso Lesego Molope THIS BOOK BETRAYS MY BROTHER
978-1988449296
Mawenzi House Publishers
Kamal Al-Solaylee INTOLERABLE
978-1554688876
HarperCollins
Kate Gies IT MUST BE BEAUTIFUL TO BE FINISHED
978-1668051054
Scribner Canada
katherena vermette REAL ONES
978-0735247505
Penguin Canada
Katia Rose PASSING THROUGH 979-8399451206
Kyo Lee
I CUT MY TONGUE ON A BROKEN COUNTRY
978-1551529776
Arsenal Pulp Press
Lisa Shen
A STORY ENDING IN REDWOODS
978-1998774388
Anstruther Press
Mackenzie Angeconeb THE FRAGMENTS THAT REMAIN
978-1770867796
Cormorant Books
Morgan Campbell MY FIGHTING FAMILY
978-0771050213
McClelland & Stewart
Ozoz Sokoh CHOP CHOP
978-0525612544
Appetite by Random House
R.F. Kuang YELLOWFACE
978-0063323179
HarperCollins
Ruby Barrett THE MATCH FAKER
978-1069016102
Weird Lil’ Guy Books
Saleema Nawaz SONGS FOR THE END OF THE WORLD
978-0771072598
McClelland & Stewart
Samantha Jones ATTIC RAIN
978-1774390986
NeWest Press
Shade Lapite GODDESS CROWN
978-1536226522
Candlewick Press
Shashi Bhat DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS
978-0771095115
McClelland & Stewart
Sheung-King BATSHIT SEVEN
978-0735245303
Penguin Canada
Suzan Palumbo
COUNTESS
978-1770417571
ECW Press
Tanya Boteju MESSY PERFECT
978-0063358492
HarperCollins
Tanya Talaga THE KNOWING
978-1443467506
HarperCollins
Tao Wong A THOUSAND LI: THE FIRST STEP
978-1989458020
StarLit Publishing
Uzma Jalaluddin
DETECTIVE AUNTY
978-1443472845
HarperCollins
Wali Shah
CALL ME AL
978-1459837942
Orca Book Publishers
HAPPILY EVER AFTERS For Everyone
2025 SUMMER IN GARDEN SQUARE
Gather, connect, and celebrate, right in the heart of Brampton! From live music and cultural festivals to outdoor movie nights and community celebrations, Garden Square is the place to be for FREE entertainment for all ages, all summer long.
LEARN MORE
“My first novel came out in 2020, during COVID-19, when all my time was spent at home. I had my very first launch with FOLD, online. I also participated in a series called On Place and Belonging, one of my first events as a novelist, where I met, virtually, Francesca Ekwuyasi. Years later we finally met in person, in Banff, during a residency. It felt like meeting an old friend.”
— SHEUNG-KING FOLD AUTHOR
“I first attended the FOLD in 2020 when the festival went online. I was impressed by the expansive programming, the commitment to care and community, and the incredible roster of emerging and established talent. The FOLD expanded my understanding of what a literary festival can be, and I immediately felt like I found a home.”
— SAMANTHA JONES FOLD AUTHOR
“I remember for one of the first FOLD festivals, I took a GO Bus (long before the train) to Brampton. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, or where I was going. I ended up meeting another writer on the bus that I’m still close friends with today. The entire festival felt like this — a lovely mix of inspiration, learning, and finding community. I so appreciate how much FOLD has broadened and enriched my own, and many other writers’ literary journeys. Congrats on 10 years!”
