Destined to become a Canadian literary classic, Finding Flora chronicles the bittersweet journey of twenty-four-year-old, red-haired, Scottish immigrant, Flora Craigie. Readers can’t help but root for this young, feisty hero whose first act of rebellion is to leap into the darkness from a moving train to escape her new, sick, predatory husband.
“Bracing herself against the jerk and pitch of the train, Flora leaped into the darkness” (3).
Hoodwinked by Hector Mackle, an unscrupulous land agent with the CPR, Flora marries in Scotland, only to discover his wicked nature four weeks later when he tries to strangle her for refusing his advances. Mackle’s been too sick to consummate the marriage, which is a blessing, as Flora learns when she lands in Alberta.
“The symptoms you’re describing sound like syphilis,” Nurse Godwin reveals. Wicked indeed.
This is a hero’s journey where allies and enemies appear at unprecedented times. A kind of feminist Gothic novel, it’s a tale of women helping women facing adversity. Besides confrontations with entitled men of power and privilege, the women struggle against the Canadian Prairie—as brutal an antagonist as the depraved husband who offers a reward for his wayward wife. She is, after all, legally his.
This plucky heroine continues to attract angels—her homesteading female neighbours—in what becomes known as “Ladysville”. At a time when women are deemed inferior and cannot vote (1905-1907) these rebellious women face the ire of the male-dominated community because they refuse to marry or stay silent. Allowed to homestead because the men assume they’ll fail, they face male ire when they make a success of their homesteads during the allotted two-year time frame. How? By helping each other through all the Prairie hurls at them—freezing winters, malevolent hail, sickness, politics, laws, even thugs intent on burning them out.
“Ignorance is fatal, especially out here” (150).
These are wonderfully realistic characters. Among them are a Welsh widow who’s immigrated with her children, so her son can escape the coal mine that killed his father; The Chicken Ladies, a couple of Boston teachers who’ve come to Canada to escape persecution when rumours circulate that they’re more than friends; and Jessie McDonald, a fiercely independent Métis woman who hunts and trains wild horses rather than put plough to land.
Finding Flora is an homage to all homesteaders, those brave souls who laid the foundation for the Western Canada that we know and love today.” —Eleanor Florence
Florence, who grew up in Saskatchewan, has Scottish-Cree heritage and is a member of the Métis Nation of British Columbia. She dedicates this book to her Métis great-grandmother, whose name, not so coincidentally, was Jessie McDonald. The story is one of adoration, and we find our ancestors in these resilient, fighting women who refuse to back down. Whether attacking the sod to plant a garden, chinking the log cabin bare-handed with horse manure and mud, plucking wild oat seed before spreading the precious wheat, or any other of her daily Herculean tasks, Flora finds herself persevering and falling in love with this land.
Woven among the fictional characters are well-described historical characters: Irene Parlby, Alberta women’s rights activist; larger than life figure CPR president William Van Horne, and Alix Westhead, a rich, powerful woman for whom the village of Alix, Alberta was named, and whom Van Horne allegedly had a dalliance with.
Frank Oliver of Edmonton, who served as the federal Minister of the Interior, makes a damnable villain—especially with his frat boy comments: “I jollied her along because she’s such a juicy little tart, with that mane of red hair. Some man will be lucky to get a piece of that” (281.) Ah, just what a woman wants to hear when she’s eavesdropping. It’s Oliver who pushes to expropriate all of Ladysville, and harasses Flora via his agent, Mr. Payne (the perfect name for this villain.) Several real life minor characters also pepper the pages, giving a sense of reality to the homesteaders’ plight. This is history as you’ve never read it.
But don’t despair, this is a feminist tale and there’s power in sisterhood. And for those of you who crave romance, there’s a hint of that too.
Florence is a brilliant writer, the story superbly structured—she plotted the whole thing before filling in the details—the pacing relentless, the drama so thick it will tie you in knots. Yet, it’s so well written, it flows quickly and easily. Her lyrical prose describes the Prairie, both its gifts and its scourges, with imagery so vivid and cinematic we can’t help but wish for Finding Flora to become a film or CBC special. Finding Flora is as much a tribute to the Canadian Prairie as Anne of Green Gables is to P.E.I.
The book is incredibly well-researched—Florence includes a two-page bibliography and a Reading Group Guide for book clubs. She read some sixty books about homesteading in Canada before beginning to write. Perhaps, this practice grew from her earlier career in journalism. Florence worked for newspapers from Manitoba to British Columbia and even published her own award-winning community paper. She also spent eight years writing for Reader’s Digest Canada. Bird’s Eye View, her first novel, was a national bestseller, and Wildwood, her second, was featured in Kobo’s “100 Most Popular Canadian Books of All Time.” This is a woman to watch, this book a pearl of perfection.
Elinor Florence was overjoyed when Finding Flora debuted on the national bestseller list for Canadian Fiction in the number one spot and remained on the national bestseller list for thirty weeks plus during 2025. It’s also a Heather’s Pick for the Indigo, Chapters, and Coles book chain and was recently named one of Indigo’s Top Ten Best Books of 2025.
Two years later, thirteen-year-old Emma Sharpe is back aboard The New Adventure (having saved her parents from the Poor House and set them up on a farm using her share of the cursed loot) when they’re attacked by a French ship. Emma awakens on the inhospitable island of Samana, finds an injured Jack, and meets quirky Warren Shivers (who’s been living in a cave with a skeleton woman for two years).
After a lengthy series of adventures (eighteen chapters)—wherein Emma bests one sea captain at dueling and later shoots him dead (he is a nasty piece of work), they travel with two other captains and eventually find their way back to Captain Garrett and The New Adventure. This traveling amongst pirate ships and various ports equates to much detail and many characters that are sometimes hard to keep track of. But eventually they’re home (so to speak).
Garrett is obsessed with chasing down Le Phénix, because his ladylove Catherine Ducharme is imprisoned aboard and en route to Bres (Spain? France?) for an undeserved execution. I expected Garrett and Ducharme were a couple in the first book, so am glad to see Atkins has made their relationship public. All three ships and captains join forces to rescue Catherine—though she’s a kickass warrior herself.
This book is most suited to the YA+ crowd. At thirteen/fourteen, Emma’s oblivious to young suitor Etienne (fifteen) who says “We can be together … It’s Jack, isn’t it?” I find it hard to believe that Emma’s clueless as to what he’s talking about, and only sees Jack as family (although it’s obvious to the reader that they make the perfect couple.) I mean, this young woman who escaped an orphanage at eleven, drew her first blood with a sword, and shot a Frenchman dead, is a tad too naïve when it comes to romantic love. I suspect the author, who has a daughter around Emma’s age who was his inspiration, is intent on maintaining her innocence as long as possible.
What’s it got? Brilliant world-building. Excellent writing. The sea voyages and battles read as if the author’s been there and participated, and Atkins’ knowledge of 17th Century ship travel is extraordinary.
If there’s a third book, Emma better get her first kiss. That’s all I’m saying.
White Pines Gala, Port Moody LibraryIs that a pirate’s twinkle?
Atkins says his inspiration for this middle-grade adventure novel was Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island, and I can believe it. The narrative sounds akin to novels of that era. The diction and tone strike me as similar to other Victorian novels written for children; meaning there is a formality to the language, a sense of propriety even at the worst of times, and the children are treated like grownups. For that reason, I believe this is a book that can be enjoyed by people of all ages, though it may especially appeal to middle-grade/YA boys and girls because of the rollicking adventure. Note: There’s no romantic subplot; at least not yet.
Yet these are no Disney pirates.
Captain Garrett and his first mate, Mr. Bellows (who does indeed bellow frequently) take in eleven-year-old Emma Sharpe who’s run away from a wretched orphanage (more like a workhouse) and stowed aboard the New Adventure in 1701. Emma quickly becomes friends with the Captain’s cabin boy, Jack Randall, and a varied and eccentric cast of characters. The thing that distinguishes the New Adventure is its swashbuckling, yet decent, equitable captain. The crew, both men and women, work as a team—there’s none of this women-are-bad-luck stuff—and whatever booty they collect is shared by all.
During her first year aboard ship, as the crew sale from Bristol to Barbados, Emma becomes an able seaman, experiencing wonderful teachers (Captain Garrett and Catherine Ducharme, the master-at-arms; inclement weather including the doldrums; shipboard shenanigans; and hostile pirates. By assisting the shipboard doctor and borrowing literature from the Captain’s library, Emma learns geography, science, zoology and botany while exploring islands from Africa to the West Indies.
The crew discover a pirate ship loaded with gold, a cursed treasure, and murdered crewmen because well, when “The Pirates Went Mad,” they killed each other. How will Emma’s crew survive their own curse-induced madness?
Some things that make this book stand out:
Jon Merchant’s old-timey, original, hand-drawn illustrations suit the story. There’s a lovely map marking their route around Tobago, the island in the West Indies where the climax occurs. Atkins includes a four-page glossary. He’s done scads of research and run down countless rabbit holes, yet somehow managed to tell the story in a way that educates without excessive info-dumping. His unique players stay in character, accents and all. We can imagine Mr. Bellows bellowing, “Ya’ heard the captain!”
In this interview, Atkins reveals: “The spark was an idea for a short story I decided I would write for my daughter. One about a girl overcoming a cursed pirate treasure, inspired by the greedy in-fighting and backstabbing represented in R.L. Stevenson’s “Treasure Island” and Y.E. Allison’s poem “Derelict” – all that for a bit of gold and silver. This tale would take us on our own adventure during the Golden Age of Piracy, and simultaneously let us talk about what life was really like back then versus how it’s been popularized in pirate fiction.”
Check out this website for all kinds of insider information on Emma Sharpe’s Adventures.
This book is a finalist in the Whistler Independent Book Awards, 2025 Children’s category. The winner will be announced in Whistler on October 31st. Best of luck in taking home the prize and may no pirates sully your journey there and back again!
I was sucked into the current of this unique and memorable historical novel when I heard the author read the beginning aloud at a gathering of local writers in B.C. “It was a bitter afternoon, during one of the worst winters the province had ever seen. A ten-year-old girl walked into the forest with her two brothers and didn’t come out again.” Although it starts with a weather report—which authors are advised NOT to do—the question “what happened?” hooked me and hooked us all.
Beginning in Orangeville, Ontario in January 1931, the story of the girl and her brothers, Landon and Jem, morphs into something of epic proportions. When pulled from the clutches of the icy, whispering river by her brothers, the girl, known then as Kathleen or Kitty, is dead. And yet, like a princess in a fairy tale, after three days of Gaelic prayers, lamb broth, and sleep, a child is reborn with no memory of the past. “A changeling,” declares her Irish mother.
This all happens in the unmarked prologue.
When the gracious, intuitive Rebekah arrives in April 1939, she’s drawn into in a sensual, intimate relationship with the changeling Kit, but is also attracted to her handsome older brother, Landon. Though he feels peripheral and, perhaps, proper. Thinking Rebekah has chosen Landon, Kit hops a freight train, talks a scared, young boy out of his sign-up letter, and changes identity. Christopher McNair arises, joins the RAF, and disappears overseas to become a brilliant bomber navigator. Fearless and laced with fey luck, Christopher finds his own crowd of misfits in the air force. Landon joins the navy, and Rebekah works for naval intelligence in Halifax—which is where she spends a memorable night with Landon. And so, the war affects them all.
An epic Canadian saga, The Cure for Drowning, paints a picture of queer and transgender people with innovative charm. Anchored in history, but laced with love and wizardry, Paylor reveals their clandestine role in the military and the discrimination they faced, both under Hitler’s regime and within their own allied units. It’s not until Kit returns to their first loves in 1947—Rebekah and the farm—that pronouns change: “It was as though a skilled sculptor had taken a chisel to every feature and fashioned them into a sharper, purer version. The one I’d always seen, underneath,” Rebekah says.
This is Paylor’s debut novel, but their lush, masterful voice foretells a future in Can Lit. One of those unique souls who make complex writing seem a breeze—like they rest their fingertips on the keyboard and out flies music and magic—Paylor is as adept at riveting wartime action as soft sensual intimacy. An epic page-turner, laced with myth, romance and mystery, yet anchored at a time of brutal history and the landscape of place, The Cure for Drowning draws us deep into the river and keeps us there holding our breath until the very last page.
Loghan Paylor is a queer, trans author with an MA in Creative Writing from UBC. Their short fiction and essays have been published in “Prairie Fire” and “Room.” The Cure for Drowning was named a Globe and Mail Best Book of 2024, longlisted for the 2024 Giller Prize, and is shortlisted for the Jim Deva Prize for Writing that Provokes 2025—literature with “a sense of vitality and urgency that breaks boundaries and blazes new paths within their genre.” This is an author to watch and a must-read novel.
I don’t know how many times I’ve watched The Last Kingdom BBC series. It’s riveting and very well produced. I appreciate that both sides — Saxons and Danes — are presented equally, meaning there are people you will love and detest among the both cultures. Uhtred, the hero of this series, sits squarely in the centre.
Several generations of my father’s Carr ancestors resided in Yorkshire; I imagine that’s where my Scandinavian DNA derives from as Northumbria was the first Danish stronghold in England.
A couple of weeks ago, I found several books from the original series by Bernard Cornwell at my favourite local Indie book store, Western Sky Books. I bought the first four, and just finished reading book 1.
“The best battle scenes of any writer I’ve ever read, past or present. Cornwell really makes history come alive.” —George R.R Martin
Indeed, the raw, visceral, action scenes will port you to 886 AD where you’ll meet the eager Danes who seek the land and the pious King Alfred who fights to drive them off so he can unite the kingdoms of England under his rule. Enter Uhtred of Bebbanburg, who’s taken by Earl Ragnar as a child and raised as a pagan warrior in northern England—territory already controlled by the Danes.
The book follows much like the series, except the feisty Brida doesn’t appear in Uhtred’s life until he’s sixteen. Their sexual liaison is short-lived as she ships out with young Ragnar while Uhtred stays with Alfred. In Book 1, we see him marry Christian Mildrith who gives him a son as well as her debt. And in the final climatic scene, Uhtred sends Ubba Lothbrok to Valhalla in an intense, visceral, man-to-man brawl.
One of the differences here, is that three of Ragnar Lothbrok’s sons are invading England: Ivar the Boneless, Halfdan, and Ubba. Cornwell’s book is well-researched using The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, penned during Alfred’s time (possibly by the king himself) and Asser’s life of King Alfred as well as secondary sources. He admits, “I have feathered lavishly” (333.) Indeed, but it’s a brilliant feathering and we come as close to being there as is possible.
The book includes a map and a glossary of place names written in both the ancient tongue and the modern. Bernard Cornwell is one of the presenters at The Historical Novel Society Conference this September in Darlington UK. I almost signed up, but alas, Greece called. I’m sure he will infuse the participants with his sage knowledge and impeccable writing style. Maybe next time. *Highly Recommended.
Over the holidays, I discovered this used book in our local bookstore and decided to read it. This is the kind of story one can call delightful. It was written by Edith Nesbit who wrote under the pen name E. Nesbit. Her biography says: “She was a mischievous, tomboyish child who grew into an unconventional adult. With her husband, Hubert Bland, she was one of the founder members of the socialist Fabian Society; their household became a centre of the socialist and literary circles of the time. The chaos of their Bohemian home . . . was regularly increased by the presence of their children and numerous friends, among whom were George Bernard Shaw and H.G. Wells.
Like Mrs. Barnstable, the mother of The Railway Children, Edith was a published writer, and a good one. This Puffin Classic (first published in 1906 and this edition republished in 1994) has several full pages of pen and ink sketches that are remarkable. The writing voice reminded me of C. S. Lewis and the children of the Pevensies. Since the Chronicles of Narnia weren’t published until the 1950s, I can’t help but wonder if Lewis read and liked Nesbit’s books. Perhaps some of the Railway Children adventures rubbed off on him.
The three children: Roberta (Bobbie) who turns twelve, Phyllis who seems to be around eight years old, and Peter who turns ten, have all sorts of adventures after their father mysteriously disappears and they have to move from London into the countryside. They are suddenly impoverished, so their mother spends long hours writing and selling stories in order to make ends meet. With all kinds of free time at Three Chimneys, their new cottage, the children make friends with the locals—particularly Perks the Porter and the Station Master. They also befriend a wealthy and wise old gentleman who regularly rides the train and helps them solve the mystery of their father.
Things I loved about this story:
The trains of course. Who doesn’t love the old fashioned “Harry Potter” trains winding their way through the English countryside.
The innocence of it all. The children were allowed to roam free and get into mischief, as I did as a kid. This was a time in which a man could kiss a young girl on the cheek in the spirit of friendship and gratitude and not be maligned for it.
The writing, so clear, detailed, and descriptive.
“There was a cake on the table covered with white sugar, with ‘Dear Bobbie’ on it in pink sweets, and there were buns and jam; but the nicest thing was that the big table was almost covered with flowers — wall-flowers were laid all round the tea-tray — there was a ring of forget-me-nots round each plate. The cake had a wreath of white lilac round it, and in the middle was something that looked like a pattern all done with single blooms of lilac or wallflower or laburnum” (73).
The strength of character in all whom we meet.
Frank discussions about the differences between boys and girls, and corrections made with regard to stereotypical statements. (The doctor is somewhat old fashioned.)
A film of this particular story was produced in 1970 and the trailer seems quite true to the book. Apparently, the children returned recently in another film: The Railway Children Return (2022). This one concerns a different group of children and is set in 1944, when the children are evacuated from Manchester to East Yorkshire because of the bombings.
Thank you, Miss Nesbit for bringing your stories to the world.
