Heads’ve been calling me crazy since primary school, and though I can see how they’d reach that conclusion, I honestly don’t think it’s fair. Truth is, at some point during my childhood probably around eight or nine, I simply got sick of all the adults around me steady fronting, and trying to put positive spins on shit I wasn’t trying to hear. So I just promised myself that no matter my life played out, whatever I became, I’d never sacrifice one piece of my true spirit in the process, and wind up some terminally lost, broken shell of the man I could’ve been, like so many tragic mopes.


Praise for Wildcat Prowls the Urban Jungle
(from publishers who ultimately rejected it)

"interesting and original work, with a voice not much heard from in contemporary Canadian fiction"
- Bethany Gibson, Fiction Editor, Goose Lane Editions

"a very distinct and engaging narrative voice...the collection displays a bold, irreverent wit"
- anonymous editor who did not want her name used in association with Wildcat's book

"Not for us, thanks"
- Barbara Braun, Barbara Braun Agency

Cat’s Wild Ramblings