Horses in the Sand audio book is now available. Narrated by Cherie Maracle. Check it out at Audible!
Horses in the Sand
Frankly told with humour and courage,
Horses in the Sand is a collection of stories telling of one queer woman’s journey to becoming a tradeswoman, teacher and artist from meagre beginnings as a child. It speaks of self-acceptance and how identity over time changes. It’s also a celebration of pride in building a home, creating art, telling stories and finding both her natural father and an indigenous community she never knew she belonged to.
First Gear - A Motorcycle Memoir
A powerful story of childhood physical, emotional and sexual abuse unrolls as the author,
at age 50 and living with Multiple Sclerosis, rides her 2009 Harley-Davidson — named Thelma D. — from Ottawa to Winnipeg and back, with detours through northern Ontario and Quebec. During her ride through the stunning landscape of the Canadian Shield, she shares stories of her childhood growing up in the 1970s with her three brothers, a violent father and an alcoholic mother. Told with a frank openness and humour, First Gear is ultimately the story of courage, survival, and recovery.
Buy First Gear
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About the author
Tradeswoman, artist and teacher, Lorrie Potvin,
a queerishly two-spirited Métis, is the author of Horses in the Sand (Spring 2022) and First Gear – A Motorcycle Memoir (2015). She lives in the area served by the High Land Waters Métis Council.
Lorrie's stories had me laughing and crying. As an Indigenous woman who has had similar feelings and experiences I found her candor and humor refreshing. Stories from our women are certainly needed in a field once dominated by men's stories.
Beverly Little Thunder, Two-Spirit Lakota Elder
Short Stories & Essays
The 13th Dock
Writing at Wintergreen, An Anthology edited by Helen Humphreys
Buddy waves over to me and yells “hi,” his pubic hair and penis a black fuzzy circle in the middle of his groin.
My tattoos speak of life and loss
The Globe and Mail
Black pieces of epidermis are curling up and flaking off as my body heals itself from the assault of a tattoo machine.
Why I'm thankful for multiple sclerosis
The Globe and Mail
I wish someone would hurt me. Not kill-me kind of hurt, but enough to damage me visibly.
The Trouble With Wishes
Twenty-five years ago during my depressive and chaotic thirties I wanted, wished even, to be sick. I practically begged for any diagnosis during . . .