Categories: Male Authors - Anglophone Authors - Novelists - Saint John River Valley
Corey Redekop was born in northern Manitoba, moved to Winnipeg, made his way east to New Brunswick where he briefly studied law, then moved to London, Ontario, where he wrote and published his first novel Shelf Monkey, about a clandestine group of bibliophiles who secretly burn undeserving books. As Quill & Quire points out, Shelf Monkey is a tongue-in-cheek protest against "the triumph of marketing over talent," which is sweetly ironic, since Corey now lives in Fredericton, New Brunswick, working as a publicist for Goose Lane Editions.
His second novel Husk, a deeply Canadian take on the zombie genre and a biting satire of contemporary society, was named one of the top books of 2012 by the editors of Amazon.ca and January Magazine.
What is your favourite New Brunswick book, and why?
The Town That Drowned by Riel Nason. Just a lovely work.
What do you consider to be the highlight of your career so far?
In 2013, I appeared on a panel with Margaret Atwood at the Kingston WritersFest. Don't think many things can top that.
|Nomination - Best Novel, Relit Awards - 2008||In recognition of: Shelf monkey|
|Gold Medal, Popular Fiction, Independent Publisher Book Awards - 2008||In recognition of: Shelf monkey|
"And if this were all actually happening - if this wasn't all some bizarre last-ditch effort of my dying brain to give me one last astonishingly realistic dream before it turned out the lights and sent everyone home - what did it mean for reality outside of myself? If people could arise from the grave and walk around, take the bus, make small talk, interview for employment opportunities; if people could do this, what other mythocultural beings might be wandering about the face of the Earth? I searched the faces of my busmates, looking for anything out of the usual. There was a particularly gothy-looking emo kid near the front: was he a zombie who had found a way to live in plain sight? Were those reputed "haunted houses" that seemed to find a place in every neighborhood's folklore actually infected with the spirits of long-dead inhabitants too stupid to float into the light? Could there be honest-to-goodness vampires haunting the suburbs? Worse, would they be sparkly? Could clans of werewolves be running through the forests, feasting on Boy Scout campsites? Was a family of Sasquatch running the Mountain Equipment Co-op? A Minotaur eking out a living as a short-order cook? Were outer-space aliens to blame for every unexplained disappearance since they taught the Aztecs complex binomial theorems far beyond the comprehension of mit graduate students?"