Phantasmagoria from 'Notes for the Everlost'

I wonder about what you’ve seen. I wonder how our parenthoods have intersected. I turn your story over in my hands, feeling how its volume is unique to mine. Will I see something of Liam in something of what you knew of yours? Will I see me in you?
— Notes for the Everlost: A Field Guide to Grief by Kate Inglis

The wonderful PRH Audio is releasing excerpts of the audiobook of Notes for the Everlost: A Field Guide to Grief, as read by me in a three-day marathon inside a little black cave-room in Nova Scotia. It was such a gift, and such a deep dive—18 hours of reading aloud, re-living, time-travelling. And feeling very much with you, with us.

This first clip is directly about Glow in the Woods, and places like it—like-minded company in which we are strangely, wonderfully ravenous for each others’ stories and specifics. Shared dreams, nightmares, exhales. It’s a funny thing, isn’t it? How we reach for one another, new to loss or twelve years reconciled. I’ve spent years marvelling at the safety of this place, the license and freedom of it. How is it that this gathering both requires strength of me while also generating strength in me?

I don’t know. I could theorize, but I’d only be touching on one angle of the kaleidoscope. You might turn it and see something the same, but completely different.

The book is here. The audiobook is here. Thank you for sharing it—and this place—with me.



Author, photographer, founder of Glow. Mother of three boys, one of whom died at six weeks old nine years ago. Nine years ago, I was someone else. Love and sorcery and poetry and terrible luck and wonderful luck.