An Interview with Leonora Ross

Leonora Ross is an artist and novelist from Western Canada. When she’s not writing novels, she enjoys writing whimsical poetry and prose and is an avid mountain hiker and amateur photographer. Her writing and photography regularly appear in literary journals.

Who/what made you want to write? Was there a particular person, or particular writers/works/art forms that influenced you?

It’s natural for writers to gravitate toward characters who wrestle with creativity—we intimately understand their passions and frustrations. For me, the greatest inspiration for A Life in Frames came from the ultimate storyteller: National Geographic. There’s something magical about how it captures the world—how it turns landscapes into poetry and explorers into legends. This book is my tribute not only to that legacy but also to the unsung adventurers whose devotion brings the wonders of the world into our homes.

Originally, the story centred on a Namibian photographer, Lejf Busher, growing up in a conservative farming community in a family of boys. Having been born and raised in Southern Africa, I felt an innate connection to its culture and setting—not to mention the unique dynamic of growing up in a large family. But as the idea expanded, so did Lejf—transforming from a local photographer into a global photojournalist, constantly pulled back to the wild heart of Namibia. And what better battleground for a conflicted soul than the Namib Desert? A place of stark beauty, quiet turmoil, and relentless confrontation with oneself—just like Lejf.

What other professions have you worked in? What’s something about you that your readers wouldn’t know?

My academic roots are in law, though my journey into writing happened somewhere in the middle—not at the beginning, not later, but at a crossroads. When I moved to Canada, I found myself facing a choice: return to law school or chart a new path. Anyone who’s immigrated to a new country understands the daunting reality—previous experience, no matter how specialised, often holds little weight, and the process of rebuilding can feel like starting from scratch. But in that challenge, I saw an opportunity: the chance to ask myself, What kind of story do I want to tell with my own life?

In my late twenties, I was still young enough to take a leap, so I chose to pursue the passion I’d carried since childhood: becoming an artist. It wasn’t a smooth transition—I worked full-time in administrative roles while taking art classes outside work hours. The road was tough, but looking back, it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Writing came later, but I wouldn’t trade the journey that brought me here. The struggles along the way shaped my perspective, deepened my appreciation, and gave me the fuel to create with meaning.

Tell us the story of your book’s title. Was it easy to find, or did it take forever?

Choosing a book title is one of the more peculiar parts of the writing process—it feels deceptively simple, yet carries enormous weight. It’s your first handshake with the reader, your novel’s billboard. For me, I always start with a handful of title ideas, refining them through feedback and plenty of second-guessing.

When I began research for Frames in the summer of 2022 and actively started writing in early 2023, one of my early contenders was The Constant Traveller. I loved the name, but a quick search revealed it had already been used—albeit with slight variations. For a while, I debated keeping it anyway, but as my protagonist, Lejf Busher, took shape and his complexities and passions became clearer, a new title surfaced organically: A Life in Frames. It was instantly right. Not only does it give readers an immediate sense of the novel’s central theme, but it also serves as a perfect metaphor for Lejf’s life—a series of moments captured, examined, and pieced together through his lens.

What part of publishing your book made it feel real for the first time?

For any writer, the moment you hold a physical copy of your book in your hands is the moment it all feels undeniably real—the long hours, the revisions, the self-doubt, the passion. It’s tangible proof that the story you carried in your mind now exists beyond you. And that’s a wonderful feeling.

But what truly makes it real—what makes it matter—is hearing from readers. When someone tells you your book moved them, that it made them think or feel something they weren’t expecting, that’s when the magic happens. Stories aren’t just words on a page; they’re experiences shared. And knowing that your words have lived inside someone else, even for a little while, is the most rewarding part of all.

If your book had a soundtrack, what are some songs that would be on it?

Music rules! It’s essential to my creative process—I rarely paint or write without it playing in the background. It helps me stay focused, keeps me relaxed, and is one of the best stimulants for creativity. But when I write, lyrics can be distracting, so I lean toward instrumental music: classical, chill, electronic, and world music—especially pieces with a strong connection to nature.

Instrumental music has the power to transport listeners beyond words and borders—just like A Life in Frames. The novel is an expansive literary saga that takes readers on a global journey, so its perfect soundtrack would be one that evokes deep emotion and a sense of exploration. Think John Barry—cinematic, stirring, and beautifully immersive.

What’s one thing you hope sticks with readers after they finish your book?

One of the core themes of A Life in Frames is the question of what drives us—the passions, ambitions, and instincts that shape the paths we take. But with every pursuit comes choices, and with choices come compromises. Whether actively made or passively accepted, the decisions we make ripple through every aspect of our lives, defining not just where we end up, but who we become.

I hope that after closing the book, readers take a moment to reflect on their own choices—the driving forces in their lives, the crossroads they’ve faced, and the sacrifices made along the way. Because in the end, we are all curators of our own story, framing it one decision at a time.

What was the most rewarding/meaningful part of publishing your book?

Frames was, in many ways, a deeply personal expression—an avenue to channel two passions that have long defined me: the Earth and the forgotten people of the world. Through art, we have the ability to create something beyond aesthetics—we can craft awareness, provoke thought, and give voice to those often unheard.

Seeing this book come to life was incredibly rewarding, not just as a writer, but as someone who believes in the power of storytelling to bridge gaps and stir consciousness. To know that Frames carries these themes into the world—that it invites readers to look closer, to feel deeper—that, more than anything, has made publishing it meaningful.

What creative projects are you currently working on?

I’m well underway with my fourth novel—a sweeping, female-driven saga that spans a century and unfolds across Canada. Alongside that, I’m working on a fifth novel/novella (to be decided) with speculative elements, set in Toronto.

Beyond these larger projects, I write poetry, short fiction, and essays, and I contribute photography to literary magazines to keep my creative work varied.

Are you a writer, too? Submit your manuscript to Atmosphere Press.