AMY KELLY
PORTFOLIO OF WORK
The following is a collection of my latest and most meaningful writing projects. Some are published, some are works in progress.
Waterbirth
Waterbirth is the braided story of Sylvia and Tallulah told in two timelines: before and 20 years after an extinction event referred to as the Wave that floods the planet. It examines who gets to be a mother and how far we'll go to protect our reproductive freedoms.
UNCHECKED BAGGAGE (WIP)
An unflinching memoir that parallels the healing and transformative impact of travel with the author’s experience as a midwife mother and therapist. The path of self discovery is a arduous as hiking to Everest Base Camp.
LITTLE ACTS OF USELESS REBELLION: 2023 YA FINALIST FOR LEAPFROG PRESS GLOBAL FICTION PRIZE
My 90s YA for fans of My So-Called Life and Holding Up The Universe.
AS THE SNOW DRIFTS— A COZY WINTER ANTHOLOGY
In Print and Ebook.An Original, Feel-Good Collection of Short Stories Inspired by the Winter Season
https://www.amazon.ca/As-Snow-Drifts-Anthology-Anthologies-ebook/dp/B0DHT5Z3QN/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?crid=NZWVHEYAF8Y&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.7q6o9LzwTAw56wK3AQDfvCobQMufDexTd0DQgJoIlpY.bCzjhqToWF344laQ7kyDqUSXxvsV_r3e8d97DQ4lkJQ&dib_tag=se&keywords=as+the+snow+drifts&qid=1730511142&sprefix=as+the+sn%2Caps%2C187&sr=8-1
Don your cozy socks, snuggle under your favorite reading blanket, grab your tea (or hot chocolate!), and get ready to settle in with As the Snow Drifts, arranged and edited by Nicole Frail. This brand-new collection of short fiction will transport you from the blistering cold of the midwestern prairies and farmlands to the warmth of festive bed-and-breakfasts and coffeeshops while the snow falls gently outside.
“Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves”
Henry David Thoreau
PUBLISHED STORIES, ESSAYS AND POETRY
Prairie Tale: A Little Girl’s Winter Night In
AS THE SNOW DRIFTS: A Winter Anthology.Coming November 2024.Sign up for the launch tour. Ebooks on presale. Cover reveal soon!https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdkwt0mZUtKYUWKEuIvb5tyurAcuOgDcwbqUuhsY1WKyggayg/viewform?pli=1
“The grasshoppers rubbed their legs, like a chorus of tiny sharpening knives. The june-bugs darted close then hissed, and retreated when they realized we were little girls. The pink popsicle oozed down the stick and onto my fingers and wrapper. Lani and I sat side by side, our knees melting into each other. We admired the criss-cross shapes the plastic chairs pressed into our thighs as we licked our fingers….
https://www.805lit.org/9-2-fiction-amy-kelly
Parenting Essays From The Yummy Mummy Club
“We’re born, we live a little while, we die….By helping you maybe I was trying to lift up my life a trifle.” Charlotte,
Charlotte’s Web by EB White
**********
My seven-year-old fingers gripped the tattered pages of my favourite book. Huddled under the covers with my flashlight, trying to sneak another few minutes of reading in the stillness of the night, my throat tightened as I approached the last passages. Charlotte, the spider was dead and Wilbur the pig was going to care for her babies. My heart ached for Wilbur. How could he lose his friend? My tender mind couldn’t understand how this was fair.
“My sister and I traded dreams one day. Mainly because, with her new baby and my one- and three-year-old, the chance to actually fall asleep and dream was a rarity. We sat on my peeling leather couch in the sundrenched room, looking over the Pacific, totally unaware of the beauty surrounding us because we were in our sister cocoon of love and laughter and caffeine.
“Oh my god, it was so hot.”
“Oh?” I say, taking a piece of dog kibble out of my toddler’s mouth. Sex was a dark cave that was cold and damp, with moss growing in it since my daughter’s birth. I was interested to hear a bit of giddy-up that was lighting anyone’s fire…”
“I wonder if the Schroedinger had a 14-year-old son? Did he ever want to put that son in the box? I mean, the idea that something can be both alive and dead is no new concept to me. I could tell you all about it in the morning before I have my first cup of coffee.
I run a private practice counselling clinic and speak to parents all the time about their kids. I mention wanting to shut them in a box less, but the paradoxical needs come up all the time. Here you have these giant toddler/adults pushing boundaries in larger social capacities with greater stakes than actual toddlers, but they still need your cuddles, time and attention. It’s the same phenomenon observed in Mommy and Me groups wherein these sweet toddlers rush off to explore their new environment and friends, then rush back to check in with mom. Teens are both like giant toddlers and not. They run out into a world that stretches farther than our capacity to see them, oftentimes with a snide remark and a request for cash before leaving. Then they come back and need us to contextualize, love them and guide them in smaller, more nuanced measures than when they were toddlers…”
“As a parent now, I strive for my kids to exist on a continuum of trying. When I feel myself wanting to rewrite and stage their lives in the same way that speech had been for me, I think about my other speech and the shivers I had gotten when I first wrote it. The laughs I had from people who listened to it may not have been true of an entire gymnasium, but if I had the space to do my own work, every reaction would have been something I could own. The messaging we give our kids when we say “I’ll just do it myself” or other forms of overreaching can be that we don’t actually believe they are capable, or that we don’t think they can handle failure or that we can’t handle the discomfort of seeing them fail. We need to foster their ability to listen to and trust their intuitive selves…”
I have feasted on my own hope,
Filling up, instead, on decay
And my reality
Is malnourished
Because there was no richness in the food.…
https://tigerleapingreviews.com/issue-1-p#dacffff8-48dd-4bea-ab62-6a033d44108d