"Barbara Kay knows a thing or two about good writing. As one Canada’s most widely read columnists in the National Post, she’s expressed herself forcefully and cogently for years, never mincing her words, garnering the applause of readers and sometimes their ire."

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BARBARA KAY RELEASES FIRST NOVEL, A QUEBEC-BASED MURDER MYSTERY


One of the most controversial writers in Canada, National Post columnist and acclaimed author Barbara Kay, makes her first foray into fiction with the release of “A Three Day Event,” a murder mystery underscored by sociopolitical tensions in a Quebec horse sport community.

Loosely based on actual events faced by the Kay family, A Three-Day Event takes readers back to 1992, and the Eastern Townships of Quebec, where Le Centre Équestre de l’Estrie is playing host to a horse sport competition for Olympic hopefuls. Heightened by linguistic and class tensions, cracks begin to appear in the community’s sunny facade. Le Centre is suddenly jarred by a series of violent events: Anti-Anglophone vandalism, an assault on a stallion and other conflicts culminating in the murder of the centre’s reviled stable boy. Former champion jumper Polo Poisson takes the reins as chief sleuth and discovers that nearly everyone in the stable is a suspect.

Award-winning Montreal novelist Glen Rotchin praises Kay’s venture into fiction: “It’s polished, richly imagined and suspenseful, everything you’d want in a murder mystery. This is a novel that rises far above the level of a typical first novel.”

“Many non-fiction writers are curious to know whether they can pull off a work of fiction. I too wondered for decades, but it wasn’t until my daughter was betrayed by her mentor in horse sport that I found my inspiration,” Kay said. “Suddenly my ten years of immersion in the fascinating world of high-stakes three-day eventing competition opened a creative seam I had never thought possible.”

Read an excerpt of this book

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Bill Maher 1, Chrystia Freeland 0

Latest Column

Barbara Kay: For me, another 10 years or so sounds about right

Posted on 2017-01-17 14:28:45

There was a woman at our synagogue I knew superficially, a widow about 20 years older than me, a fine amateur artist. At long last liberated from onerous maternal and breadwinning obligations, her aging father’s needs began to consume the time she had finally carved out to devote to painting. She would bring her father to synagogue, one of the few pleasures left to him in his radically diminished life. This went on for many years. One day — I think he was well into his nineties, very zombie-like in his wheelchair by then, and she probably 75 — I asked her how her father was getting on, and she burst out, “When is it my turn?” Now in my mid-seventies, I often think back to that cri du coeur. My father died at 67 and my mother in her late seventies (but already lost to Alzheimers years before). So I did not experience what I think of as the Prince Charles syndrome. Precious few children are born to inherit real crowns, but none of us is truly sovereign over our lives while the older generation lives on. Which we don’t mind up to a point. And then we do. It’s human nature. There is an optimal psychological age for losing your parents. Forty is too young, 50is very sad but not completely tragic, 60is quite appropriate, and at 70, if your parents are still alive, you’ve definitely reached “when is it my turn” territory. At 70, when the nursing home calls with the news, nobody rends their garments and falls to their knees in lamentation. I hasten to add that this is not building up as an argument for euthanasia. Even if I live to 100, which I heartily hope not to, I would still want to shuffle off the stage in the traditional way. By then of course I would have been for many years refusing not only heroic but even cowardly measures to keep me alive, apart from pain meds and a respirator (suffocation is not how I want to go). If I had my druthers, of course, I’d drop dead at the optimal moment, namely 10 minutes before my kids begin to think “when is it my turn,”........

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BARBARA KAY RELEASES FIRST NOVEL, A QUEBEC-BASED MURDER MYSTERY


One of the most controversial writers in Canada, National Post columnist and acclaimed author Barbara Kay, makes her first foray into fiction with the release of “A Three Day Event,” a murder mystery underscored by sociopolitical tensions in a Quebec horse sport community.

Loosely based on actual events faced by the Kay family, A Three-Day Event takes readers back to 1992, and the Eastern Townships of Quebec, where Le Centre Équestre de l’Estrie is playing host to a horse sport competition for Olympic hopefuls. Heightened by linguistic and class tensions, cracks begin to appear in the community’s sunny facade. Le Centre is suddenly jarred by a series of violent events: Anti-Anglophone vandalism, an assault on a stallion and other conflicts culminating in the murder of the centre’s reviled stable boy. Former champion jumper Polo Poisson takes the reins as chief sleuth and discovers that nearly everyone in the stable is a suspect.

Award-winning Montreal novelist Glen Rotchin praises Kay’s venture into fiction: “It’s polished, richly imagined and suspenseful, everything you’d want in a murder mystery. This is a novel that rises far above the level of a typical first novel.”

“Many non-fiction writers are curious to know whether they can pull off a work of fiction. I too wondered for decades, but it wasn’t until my daughter was betrayed by her mentor in horse sport that I found my inspiration,” Kay said. “Suddenly my ten years of immersion in the fascinating world of high-stakes three-day eventing competition opened a creative seam I had never thought possible.”

Read an excerpt of this book

Read More


Bill Maher 1, Chrystia Freeland 0

Latest Column

Barbara Kay: For me, another 10 years or so sounds about right

Posted on 2017-01-17 14:28:45

There was a woman at our synagogue I knew superficially, a widow about 20 years older than me, a fine amateur artist. At long last liberated from onerous maternal and breadwinning obligations, her aging father’s needs began to consume the time she had finally carved out to devote to painting. She would bring her father to synagogue, one of the few pleasures left to him in his radically diminished life. This went on for many years. One day — I think he was well into his nineties, very zombie-like in his wheelchair by then, and she probably 75 — I asked her how her father was getting on, and she burst out, “When is it my turn?” Now in my mid-seventies, I often think back to that cri du coeur. My father died at 67 and my mother in her late seventies (but already lost to Alzheimers years before). So I did not experience what I think of as the Prince Charles syndrome. Precious few children are born to inherit real crowns, but none of us is truly sovereign over our lives while the older generation lives on. Which we don’t mind up to a point. And then we do. It’s human nature. There is an optimal psychological age for losing your parents. Forty is too young, 50is very sad but not completely tragic, 60is quite appropriate, and at 70, if your parents are still alive, you’ve definitely reached “when is it my turn” territory. At 70, when the nursing home calls with the news, nobody rends their garments and falls to their knees in lamentation. I hasten to add that this is not building up as an argument for euthanasia. Even if I live to 100, which I heartily hope not to, I would still want to shuffle off the stage in the traditional way. By then of course I would have been for many years refusing not only heroic but even cowardly measures to keep me alive, apart from pain meds and a respirator (suffocation is not how I want to go). If I had my druthers, of course, I’d drop dead at the optimal moment, namely 10 minutes before my kids begin to think “when is it my turn,”........

Read Full Article