the secret life of m
You know, because M is always the name of the super spy or the mysterious tortured writer or whatever. M. Sounds cool. Actually, my name is T and I’m not an international super-spy, and I’m only trying to be a tortured writer. I’m actually a mom, (which probably employes some of the skills of a super-spy. Actually, definitely employes the skills of a super-spy…) and this my story, on the road to writing the next great Canadian novel. Move over Margaret Atwood. That bench is big enough for both of our butts.