Kendall Defoe
Bio
Teacher, reader, writer, dreamer... I am a college instructor who cannot stop letting his thoughts end up on the page. No AI. No Fake Work. It's all me...
And I did this:
Stories (824)
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Whither Toronto?
Why do I hate that city so much? I know that I am not alone with this. Many of my fellow Canadians have very strong opinions about T.O., Hogtown, the Economic Heart of Canada…and That Place. But there is no hate like the hate that grows and festers like the one from someone who lives in close proximity to that town.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Confessions
Sex with Superheroes
I was put on the spot with this one. Imagine it for a moment: you are a student, attempting to impress an editor with an idea for an article you think will truly knock it out of the park, and you come up with the idea of playing out a fantasy involving fictional characters with plenty of 'what-ifs'. And yes, I did come up with a list that I felt was the best representation of what we all suspect and choose not to explore. And that editor was not impressed...but I was. And I still am. And I hope you can be once I state my case for each figure and try to judge them by some pretty fair criteria.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Geeks
Why I Still Write...
Do not whine… Do not complain. Work harder. Spend more time alone. - Joan Didion Here I am, staring at the blank page and coming up with another idea for an online piece that will be posted on Vocal with the hope that it will become popular, read widely, maybe even viral. I know that the odds are against me, and yet I still do this. I find a way to sit down and stare down a blank white rectangle that does not care either way if I decide to search for porn or create another poem, essay, list or story (my usual choices). And sometimes I wonder why.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Confessions
Some Thoughts about Sainthood
What is a saint? My childhood in the Catholic Church and school system taught me that saints were chosen by the Vatican, and that the people who were canonized were men and women who were selfless, kind, brave, and possessed of traits that most of us mere mortals simply did not have. One other factor that should be mentioned: those saints only qualified after they were dead. There was no possibility that any of them would object to the title or even run for it while they were still alive. Miracles and testimonials had to be provided supporting their cases and then decision were made on high by other experts. I believed that this was the only way to choose a saint. This seemed right.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Families
Rumpole and My Unfair Thoughts
It has been said that you can lie all you want in non-fiction, especially in the autobiographical form, but that it is impossible to lie in fiction. This has been an interesting contradiction that allows the reader to learn a great deal about certain writers that those authors may prefer to keep hidden in their own thoughts, not exposed on the bare page. And with this thought in mind, I want to talk about Rumpole of the Bailey.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in BookClub
California, Here I Was
Here we are, at the beginning of another autumn. Kids are back in school, leaves are still hanging on, the temperature is falling, and everyone I know is still trying to get every last drop of summer before it runs out (half the people are still in shorts in my neighbourhood). I am wondering, quite seriously, how I am going to pay my rent at the end of the month – a lot of money will have to be moved around and begged for – and considering how this could coincide with my birthday (a terrible coincidence). And with all of this in mind, I have let the mind wander.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Wander
Sacred Cows
Why do sacred cows make the most delicious meat? I have had many unthinkable thoughts about certain issues in literature that I have longed to share, but I am Canadian, and as such, we are conditioned to view literature as another form of “nation-building,” meaning that we should all be in this together for the team and not point a finger at what is glaringly obvious (our emperors are always fully dressed). And I believed this for a very long time. I thought that the best thing to do was to go along with the herd and try to accept the received opinions and general views of our novels and writers. It was certainly easier to believe that our talent was ignored by the ignorant and that we were writing work that deserved to be compared with the greats. It really was an easy way to go…until it wasn’t anymore.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Education
What I Did Before My Summer Vacation
It was all my fault. I saw her arm rise, bent and coming up fast, with the fingers tight in what looked like a claw more than a fist and her face was beyond tense. Like she knew what she had to do. I was happy about that because I thought that I deserved what ever she had to dish out, since I had been a dumbass for most of the year. She was only responding with anger to my mistakes, doing what I may have done (shoe and the other foot). At least we dated.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Fiction
Last Night, A DJ Shaved My Wife
Did I hear that right? I am sure that we have all been through the same experience with songs that we know and love. We hear a lyric, admire the melody, and then make the mistake of trying to sing it or discuss what we heard in front of a better informed audience.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Beat
The Love of a Daredevil
I know, I know…who the hell is Dave Munday? In order to answer that question, I will have to go back to my childhood back in the awful, ugly and beautiful 1980s. My family took a trip to Niagara Falls sometime in my early childhood and I marveled at the sight of all that water at that incredible height. I noted the tacky tourist traps everywhere and the endless parade of other tourists who were also trying to remember the moment in their cheap camera poses. I was no better; neither was the family. My one memory of the trip there involves posing for a photo with a cut-out of a barrel and pretending to drop over the Falls with my family (a part of me wonders what happened to that photograph). And I even got a hat there.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Wander
Granted
Like any artist, Jonah thought a lot about money. At this time of the year, forms had to be filled out, documents signed and initialed, calls made, emails sent, and even the odd fax shipped to keep his name in play and have his grant money coming in, as usual. In the early part of the new year, the first cheques would arrive, along with letters asking him to stay in touch with whatever agency provided the money. He would also make sure to note how quickly the money arrived and who seemed to be most tardy (they were usually connected to the government). He had work to do as soon as he found time for more than his art.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Fiction
