An Echo of Me

I told myself I would never write a biography, and this isn’t one. It’s just a story about a girl. She’s the same height as me, and looks the same though perhaps she is slightly thinner. We have the same hair and eye colour, and skin tone. We have the same mannerisms and speech patterns, and even the same first name. But she is not me. Or, rather, I am not her. Have you ever stood in a tunnel and shouted out just to hear the echo? The echo is not the same as your voice, the pitch is off and it sounds distorted. Well, that’s what she is. She is an echo of me, a distorted version of reality.

Though our experiences are very similar, they are not the same. Instead, she is the ‘me’ I could’ve been had I made different decisions. She is a creative way for me to revisit my regrets without permanent damage to my current lifestyle. I suppose there is still enough of me in her to make you call this story autobiographical, but I would argue that you’re wrong. Some of my real life and real decisions will be stealthily woven into the story. After all, without the real lead up, how can you revisit the regret? You can’t. You have to have the truth to create fiction.



Read Between the Lines: The Mostly True, Slightly Embellished Story of a Canadian Abroad


It’s human nature to embellish. Just like the game telephone (Do you remember the game telephone?) stories become more and more fantastic each time you tell them.

That lucky shot you make in pool becomes a strategic, heart-stoppingly intense win. The man who lives down the street from you, the one who gets off the bus at the same stop and walks behind you for two blocks on his way home, becomes a sex crazed stalker. Life goes from mediocre to resembling Thursday night prime-time in an instant. It doesn’t make you a liar, it makes you human.

Everyone does it.

Eventually these stories become more real to you than the truth. I will admit I have often made my life sound more interesting than it is. This is a natural side effect of being boring.

(I am quite boring.)

Consider yourself warned. This is primarily a piece of fiction, though every story is based on a real event. Much of which you are about to read is true, with a touch of the sensational thrown in here and there to give it that “page-turning charm”. It’s up to you to figure out what is true, and what isn’t. But honestly, I wouldn’t overly speculate. Just sit back and try to be entertained. (While I frantically try to entertain you.)

Everyone has a bit of a story teller in them, and this is my opus.

Welcome to the Mostly True, Slightly Embellished Story of a Canadian Abroad. Ladies and gentlemen, read between the lines and enjoy the ride.