Lindsay Nixon's nîtisânak honours blood and chosen kin with equal care. A groundbreaking memoir spanning nations, prairie punk scenes and queer love stories, it is woven around grief over the loss of their mother. It also explores despair and healing through community and family, and being torn apart by the same. Using cyclical narrative techniques and drawing on their Cree, Saulteaux and Métis ancestral teachings, this work offers a compelling perspective on the connections that must be broken and the ones that heal. (From Metonymy Press)
Lindsay Nixon won the Writers' Trust of Canada's $5,000 Dayne Ogilvie Prize for LGBTQ emerging writers.
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From the book
I gave birth to a universe at nineteen years old. I got on a Greyhound bus with my lover, who I will call Back to Black (B2B), a name I gave them to describe a love so instant — full of addiction, mistrust, lies, and abuse that we reasoned away as passion — that it could only be compared to Amy Winehouse's album of the same name. We headed toward the closest big city: Edmonton (Deadmonton or Oil-town). That's how the common-folk got around the prairies — by hurtling down its endless highways in a beat-up old Greyhound. The lack of air conditioning and locked anti-suicide windows made the ride so hot that passengers' thighs stuck to the gaudily upholstered seats, which hadn't been updated since the 1980s, and were stiff and scratchy like a towel with dried semen on it. There was always that middle-aged biker, sans bike, with his leather vest and Harley Davidson tattoos, offering his seatmate swigs off a forty half-assedly concealed in a paper bag. I remember the horizon seeming just a little out of reach, no matter how many hours we passed driving those dusty prairies roads, and the journey endless like maybe I'd continually be on the move. If the world's at large, why should I remain?
From nîtisânak by Lindsay Nixon ©2018. Published by Metonymy Press