You know how there’s that trope in the end of the world book where the city folk go up north, usually at the end of the book, to find a new place to live? They’re expecting it to be quiet, or full of people who just live off the land, and yet curiously no one ever seems to meet a First Nations person? I’ve long thought about that and what happens when the city folk start to migrate north. This book actually approaches the question […]
Beware Windigo
Moon of the Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice





