M.A.C. Farrant is the author of fifteen works of fiction, non-fiction and memoir, and two plays. She lives in North Saanich, BC.
M.A.C. Farrant
Dispatches
Stories from a West Coast Town
Very quietly, very slowly, happiness can take over a person's life
M.A.C. Farrant
Dispatches
The Outlook for Quirky
Space travel, world religions and quotes from Pascal are just a few of the topics covered in these little phone calls between friends.
M.A.C. Farrant
Essays
Strange Birds
We don’t know why the budgie did it. He must have been unhappy. It can’t have been easy for him—pecking the bell, hanging about on the pole.
M.A.C. Farrant
Essays
Notes on the Wedding
The mother of the groom measures the distance between two weddings: twenty-six years, six thousand miles, and a donkey covered with flowers. It’s outtasight.
M.A.C. Farrant
Dispatches
4-Day Forecast for Wendy
"Today your dog will decide to end things. Your dog, who is wearing a red vinyl jacket and is tied to the tree on the boulevard outside the thrift store."
M.A.C. Farrant
Essays
Attila the Bookseller
I answered the ad: SWM likes to dance. Called him up (said his name was Jay), suggested we meet at the local cafe Tuesday night, something different, a performance poet performing. Free coffee and cookies, the place rocking with middle-aged angst.
M.A.C. Farrant
Dispatches
Selected Days
On Dorothy Parker Day we wear wool suits and little hats, smoke with cigarette holders and have a liver-coloured dachshund on a lead.
M.A.C. Farrant
A Noise in the World
Despite the distracting jewellery, the cleavage and the exercised bodies, we look in the mirror and say, What happened? By M.A.C. Farrant.
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M.A.C. Farrant
Why Not
In this excerpt from M.A.C. Farrant's The Strange Truth About Us, one man partakes in ritual rock stacking, another uses the time spent waiting to scrutize the world, and a woman with a star named after her is cremated in a full-length mink coat.
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