DYING TIMES is the story of a successful though conflicted lady litigator who is confronted by irrevocable death, told at breakneck speed with a dark undercurrent of humour. It is all around her. It is her loving, wise mother who, by dying, triggers open hatred within the family. It is her greedy, irascible but brilliant senior partner at a big downtown law firm who, while determined to control everything, even his own death, discovers generosity. It is the last client the senior partner and lady litigator will share, a man in wheelchair who is appalling in his need to wreak ruin on his wife in a monumentally lucrative divorce case. With all these characters bound for glory, every hard core emotion comes into play, love on the verge of abuse and hatred, loyalty on the verge of betrayal, visceral energy on the verge of exhaustion, a story told by a driven woman in a direct prose that blows the lid off everything. DYING TIMES is a story about several deaths that succeeds in becoming a meditation on dying and a meaningful approach to living.

Dying Times frames an important conversation. We die as individually as we have lived. Far from sombre, it is told with a visceral, wry wit and transcendent tenderness. It is surprisingly lively, in the end.

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Excerpt: My mother is dying. My senior law partner, Jack, is dying. Our richest client, Bernie Spurling, is dying – each taking their own sweet time, defying predictions. They say my mother has maybe three weeks to live. She is not dying fast enough for Jack. He says he needs me to interview witnesses and wants Bernie’s trial fast-tracked to happen before the first day of spring. He says this is because he’s got maybe six months to live. Bernie, our quadriplegic client confined to a wheelchair, wants his case done and gone before his wife can get her hands on his money. “Not one fucking cent.”