All Other Ground

My hope is built on nothing less than

My hope is built on nothing

My hope is built


Fragile as a snowflake melting in my hands

my faith against the blizzard

the onslaught of the Righteous

whose righteousness swirls in angry wind


pushing out


I stand

I stand on this rock

the angry wind causes me to stumble

How solid is this rock

if I can still fall?


My hope is built on nothing less than

My hope is built on nothing

My hope is built on

My hope.


November Book Reviews

What was the best book you read in November, and why?

What book are you excited about in December?



As predicted, Kindred was the winner in November. Octavia Butler’s prose is spare, and every word is there for a reason. It took a bit to get used to, especially in the dialogue, but I really appreciated it once I was a few pages in! This book is really pertinent to the times we are living in now (depressingly, since it was published in 1976). Dana, the main character, keeps getting pulled back into the ante bellum south, and has to learn how to survive there as a black woman. Butler does an amazing job of portraying the past and drawing parallels between the past and the present. I would recommend this highly, and I will definitely be seeking out more Butler, Read more

Picked Last

Twenty five in a line up. I have a feeling, deep in my belly that this time we are going to use the parachute. Slowly, we march and the teacher is at the front. The doors open and there is no parachute. Just big empty space. I stare down at my feet, following the black lines on the floor. One foot in front of the other. Tightrope walker. The black line touches a green line and a red line. Green or red? Red is best. We read a book like that this morning. Read red. Red read. Read is best. Better than gym. The words turn themselves over in my head. Head read red. I step onto the red line and follow it, head down.


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Hallowe’en 1967: The Evening Post

James MacInnis picked up the thin folder his editor had given him. Someone had phoned in a scoop that a New England Town  had what seemed to be a very small-scale plague of insanity. James didn’t understand why his editor hadn’t brushed it off, and had no idea how he was going to turn it into a story.

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Hallowe’en 2001: The Last Night

   This was their last Halloween together, but none of them knew it yet. Mel knew they were getting old for trick-or-treating, but she wanted to do this one last group costume idea. Over the summer, Anna had introduced the group to her favourite show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She’d taped a bunch of episodes onto VHS and they’d spent the hot summer days camped out in her basement watching her parents big TV.

  Mel was obsessed – quickly surpassing Anna’s obsession. She’d borrowed the tapes to watch some of her favourite moments again and again. She cast the four of them as the characters in the show;  Anna, of course, was the perfect Willow, Vic would be Xander, Samantha, despite being a girl, was kinda stuffy, so she was Giles and Mel was the only blond, so unsurprisingly, she was Buffy.


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Rise and Descent


Fifteen stories above the street, here I am.

One story for each year it’s been since the accident.

I stand near the edge, looking down, thinking of the experiences that led me to this place. A year ago, I decided to be bold. But it’s not that experience that led me here. No, this goes back fifteen years. To the cold steel on steel that battered my body and crushed my soul. It left me unable to take risks, paralyzed with fear.


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Does it count as a hiatus if it’s retroactive?


Widdershire is the brain-child of three intelligent, insightful women. Women who have dreamed of being writers since their chubby little fingers could hold a pencil. Women who have filled notebooks with scribbled thoughts and devoured fiction for decades.

But these glorious, intelligent women have busy lives. We started a website without fully realizing that there would be moments of “I just can’t write this week!” and “My kid has been sick for 48 hours straight and the last thing I want to do is think about that website I started with my friends.”

So, we took the summer off. But we’re back. Fall is the default start of the year because of school starting and we’re using it as a relaunch after a summer of absence. Plus as we all know, fall is the best season. So, as you sip your pumpkin-spice-whatever and listen to the sounds of crunchy leaves under your feet, rejoin us in Widdershire as we publish our creative works. We have a few new features we’ll be rolling out over the coming months and we hope you’ll return to read them. We love stories and we love sharing them with you.

Thanks for reading, thanks for returning.
The Women of Widdershire: Annemarie, Jan and Steph.


Belinda arrived in London at the end of August, telling her parents it was just for a fun trip abroad before college started. She knew there would be others heading to King’s Cross on September 1st. It had become a pilgrimage of sorts for fans – and this year was special. This year was the “Nineteen years later” date J.K. Rowling had written about.  She knew when she showed up, there would be people she knew there, if not by face, then by screen name.

She wasn’t even the biggest fan, it had been William who drove her crazy with Potter facts and showing her what he’d found online everyday, it was William who brought her into this online community. William who wouldn’t be with her.


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