nina waddington

I’ve always been someone who pays attention to little things — especially the small, almost‑missed moments that ask to be held a little longer. In these moments, I find details that many people miss in the rush of life. I notice things and write them down or try to paint them — that’s really the beginning of it all. I get inspiration from the things I stumble upon day to day, the ones that tap me on the shoulder when I’m not looking. I am always reflecting on my days, and love sharing the stories of the people, places, and small, surprising things I’ve stumbled upon along the way.

I write the truths I stumble upon in the run of a day, the ones that tap me on the shoulder when I’m not looking. I’m always reflecting, always gathering stories from the people, places, and small, surprising things I encounter along the way.

My first novel, The Memory Keepers (2017), grew out of my fascination with how memories hide in the most unexpected places — in the smell of toasted pecans, in a shooting star, in the soft echo of someone we loved. My newest upmarket fiction novel, Midlife Unfogged (2026), leans into reinvention and the wild, hopeful clarity that can arrive halfway through a life.

When I’m not writing fiction, I’m usually blogging about the beauty tucked into ordinary days — the kind you only catch when you slow down long enough to look. My work tends to wander toward wonder, toward the magic in the mundane, and toward the belief that our stories are always trying to lead us somewhere true.

Painting is a relatively new endeavour for me; I stumbled into it after breaking my ankle in 2021 and needing something to pass the time. I spent my summers as a youth exploring the gorgeous lakes and white quartzite LaCloche mountains of Killarney Provincial Park, so when I began painting, those places became my first inspirations. I’m drawn to the movement and line in nature — the Canadian Shield, the rock formations of Georgian Bay and the Hamilton Escarpment, the windswept pines. I love the tiny ecosystems that collect in the crevasses between roots and rocks. I work in watercolour or acrylic, then return to add the fine details with ink.

And when I’m ready, I share what I’ve gathered with you — the stories, the colours, the small truths I’ve caught along the way — hoping they spark something familiar or new in your own life.

enjoy,

~ nina