My name is Erin Lee McBride. Lee isn’t my middle name, it’s half my last name. No hyphen, right? I know it’s confusing. But now we can move on.
Born in a whitebread town in the 1970s, I escaped to Toronto at 17 and stayed there for 11 years, working at the CBC (that’s the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, don’t you know). Left there with a sweet retirement fund (I took a voluntary layoff), and thus I became nomadic, relocating about five times in the next year and a half. Moved to London (Ontario, don’t get excited) in 1999, stayed until 2010. Believe me, that hadn’t been the plan. I was going to get my degree and then scamper off to Dalhousie for my MA and Ph.D. Alas alack, the best laid schemes of mice and men, yeah yeah.
I’m married (and have my B.A.) and two wee ones, Thing 1 and Thing 2, who on good days can really make you believe they’re not minions of the devil. The whole crew moved to Hamilton last summer, and we have the advantage of living in a 1950s throwback suburb, where all the kids call on each other and play in the street, and there’s always some big-hearted lug of a dad around to yell “Car!” when necessary.
I’m in the life stage now where I get to play stay-at-home-mama for one more year, and at some point in the next 365 I have to suss out what I want to be when I grow up, but I’ve had no idea how to proceed ’til now. I’ve always had the bug to write, and never did, unfortunately forgetting for a time that the only difference between me and a writer was, well, writing. So with some amazing encouragement from some astounding people, I am here. I have arrived. I…write.