I lived in Montreal until I was twelve. It was a great place to be a kid. When we weren’t at school, we played outside. We had the run of the neighbourhood.
I loved sports, especially hockey. I spent my winter days at the outdoor ice rink down the street from my house. It was my dream that one day I would play for the Montreal Canadiens.
I used to spend a part of every summer with my grandparents at their cottage The cottage was on a hill, by a lake. You couldn’t drive there. You had to take a boat. When you got off the boat you had to climb sixty-five steps up the hill to our cottage.
The cottage didn’t have electricity so there was no television. There were no computers, either. But we had all the time in the world. We read. We drew. We wrote. At night I would put a little transistor radio under my pillow and fall asleep listening to the sounds of voices from far far away.
I used to have a paper route and delivered newspapers early in the morning. I loved walking around my neighbourhood before anyone else was awake. It felt like the world was all mine.
My family moved to Toronto when I was twelve. That’s when I started to grow up.
I have loved reading and writing my whole life but I didn’t start writing books until I became a father.
Now I am a father, homemaker and author. I live in downtown Toronto in a neighbourhood that’s full of tall trees and stories. I am married and have two children. I don’t have a car. I like to walk.
I love being an author.
I hope you like my stories.