My book is finally ‘real’!
It’s on the Wilfrid Laurier University Press website. It’s on Amazon (here and here) and at Chapters-Indigo (sans cover). It’s available via Waterstone’s and Blackwell’s in the UK, which brings back good memories of my two years in Manchester in the 1990s. And it’s available through Powell’s Books in Portland Oregon, a magical block-long warehouse of reading wonders and delights that brings back equally happy memories of my years playing with the Portland Baroque Orchestra).
And now that the ‘bigwigs’ have it, it’s also likely orderable via your favourite local bookseller (in St. John’s, that would be Broken Books).
Five years ago, What the Oceans Remember was a hint, a tiny speck of a thought. I had an idea. I had a proposal. I had readings. But as with any research and writing project, I wasn’t exactly sure where it was going to go and how, exactly, I’d get there.




Five years of perambulations followed: archives and more archives, reading and more reading, drafts and more drafts, conferences and more conferences, arranging and rearranging, revising and more revising, editing and more editing.’
North America. South America. Europe. And around again.

I played with words, ideas, emotions.
I felt the research in my bones.
I wandered the streets and alleyways, feeling the archives under the soles of my feet.
I drifted along muddy canals.
I travelled by trains, planes, boats, buses, and yes, automobiles.


Writing. Reading. Rewriting. Revising. Editing.
Reading. Writing. Revising. Rewriting.
Editing. Rewriting. Reading. Writing. Revising.
Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
And then, after submitting the manuscript in summer 2018, another year filled with very different processes: reviews, responses, revisions, grant application, book cover design (more on this in another post), maps, images, copyediting, proofreading, and more… all before it’s ready to release into the world.
But here we (almost) are.
I’m giddy. I’m terrified. And I can’t wait to hold What the Oceans Remember in my hands in a few months.

(c) Sonja Boon, 2019.