Kevin Miller - The official blog of Kevin Miller, author of the Milligan Creek Series and other books

One of the canoe trips that started it all

4/6/2026

This picture shows us making a voyage down Milligan Creek, which runs through my hometown of Foam Lake, Saskatchewan, twenty-nine (!) years ago during spring runoff season in April.

In the lead canoe is Nevin Halyk, now the principal of Foam Lake Composite High School, who first inspired the idea back when we were kids, suggesting we make the trip in a rubby dingy. That would have been treacherous considering all the hazards we faced (barbed wire, dead trees fallen across the water, sharp culvert edges, beaver dams, etc.). The aluminum canoes we borrowed from the school were perfect. Just off camera in the lead canoe is Victor Loeppky, one of my best friends growing up, whose farm bordered ours. In the front of the second canoe is my younger brother Al, and I'm bringing up the rear. Watching us from the bridge is my mom. I think my dad took the picture. We had just put in on the other side of the bridge.

Like the boys in my novel Up the Creek, we went against my dad's advice and continued beyond the graveyard bridge, wanting to see how far Milligan Creek went. We ended up finally pulling out in the middle of a muddy farmer's field and having to portage the canoes quite a distance back to the highway.

I can't believe we haven't done another trip since then, but it's a tricky thing because there has to be enough snow, and it has to melt fast enough to create the right conditions. Even twenty-four hours can make a significant difference. For example, the year before, I made my first trip down Milligan Creek with my mom, and we kept getting hung up on beaver dams. I made a second attempt the following day with Victor, and those beaver dams had become rapids, and the water was moving so fast that we rounded one corner and were swept into a dead tree that had fallen across the creek, which caused us to capsize. Victor disappeared under the freezing water for a few seconds, losing his paddle, while I was stuck on the tree, the current holding me in place.

Despite these hazards, hopefully Foam Lake gets a good dump of snow this coming winter, and I can hit these guys up for a thirtieth-anniversary trip next April.

Check out my new creation . . . The Comic Locker!

4/1/2026

Six weeks ago I started building an app. Not because I planned to but because I kept running into the same problems while combing through back-issue bins at comic stores and comic-cons across Western Canada while researching my upcoming book, The Crisis Companion (coming out this August).

I didn't have a good system for keeping track of what I owned. I didn't know what anything was worth. And I'd get home to file my comics and realize I'd bought duplicates or missed something I'd been hunting for, for months.

So I built The Comic Locker—a comic-collecting app that solves all of these problems and more.

Here are just some of its features:

Know what you own: Import your entire collection from another app, a spreadsheet, or photos of the covers. Tag where each comic is physically stored—box number, shelf, storage locker—identify gaps in your collection, and create a wish list. Never buy a duplicate again.
Know what it's worth: Real-time valuation pulled from recent sales and auctions helps you value individual issues and your entire collection. Use it at a con before you hand over cash. Watch your whole collection's value grow over time like an investment.
AI grading: Get an accurate estimate of each comic's value and condition by taking a photo of the front and back cover, spine, and inside pages.
Buy and sell without the drama: The marketplace matches buyers and sellers directly—geographically paired, no listing fees, no auctions. Add something to your wish list and get pinged when another user has it for sale and vice versa.
Get smarter recommendations: The Comic Locker reads your collection and suggests titles, creators, videos, and podcasts tailored to what you actually collect. Own Absolute Batman? Here's a deep dive. Collecting X-Men? Here's a podcast made for you.
Convention mode: Set a budget, look up prices, log purchases, and connect with other users at the same con using the "I'm Here!" button

The desktop version is live now. Mobile apps for iOS and Android are coming soon. Try it free—no credit card required. If you like it, it's just US$4.99/month or US$39.99/year.

My Comic Geek Speak Episode Is Live!

3/21/2026

Listen to it here! I talk about my upcoming book, The Crisis Companion from Twomorrows Publishing, and so much more!

I'm Geekin' It Up!

3/13/2026

On Tuesday, March 17, I'm doing an interview with the fine folks at one of my favorite podcasts, Comic Geek Speak. Episode will drop on March 24. And don't forget my Monitor Tapes episode, which will drop on March 20.

My first "Crisis-related" podcast

2/23/2026

This weekend I was a guest on The Monitor Tapes, a podcast devoted to Crisis on Infinite Earths, which is the subject of my new book, The Crisis Companion, coming out this summer from TwoMorrows Publishing. The episode will air on March 24. We'll be doing a soft launch of the book at the San Diego Comic Con, with the official release set for August 19, 2026, but you can pre-order it now!

It's official: I'm a comic geek

1/5/2026

How do I know this? Because I'm now part of the League of Comic Geeks. That is, I've posted my collection there. Like many comic book collectors, I have boxes and boxes and shelves and shelves of comics, but even I forget sometimes what I have and, more importantly, what I'm hunting for. So, over the holidays, I took the time to enter every issue in my collection. You can check it out here. And if you're part of the LCG, let me know! I'd love to see your collection.

On the road again!

1/5/2026

After a long hiatus, I'm hitting the road next week to do writing workshops at several schools across Saskatchewan, my home province. I'm super excited to meet a whole new batch of kids and to spend some time creating with them.

Then in early February, I'm heading to Edmonton to spend an entire week at one school, teaching creative writing to students there. My students will include a mixture of recent immigrant and refugee children, so I'm looking forward to yet another creative challenge as I tailor my workshops to meet their needs.

Plus, being on the road lets me indulge one of my other passions--comic books! I'm already making a list of shops I plan to visit along the way--and the back issues I'm hunting for!

Now you can listen to the Game On series

11/9/2025

Books 1-3 of the Game On series are now availble on Audible and other audiobook platforms. And don't forget, book 6 is coming out soon from Bakken Books!

Check out the cover for book 6 in the Game On Series

10/10/2025

This is the final book in the series, coming soon from Bakken Books!

I'm doing it! I'm finally writing "Teeth"

10/3/2025

I've had this novel on my mind for a long time. It's book 3 in my Uncanny Icons series, where each book is built around a different icon of Halloween. First it was Pumpkins, then it was Brooms, and now it's Teeth. Here's the logline:

When a batch of magical, glow-in-the-dark toy vampire teeth summon a real-life blood-sucking fiend, a lonely goth girl and her misfit friends must figure out how to free the vampire from its curse before their entire world is inundated by a ravenous army of the undead.

I'm only a chapter in to the first draft, but I've lived with this idea and these characters for so long, it already feels as if this story is writing itself. Can't wait to see what direction it takes me! Just to give you a taste, here's the first scene.

As the bell rang for her first class, seventeen-year-old Lydia Dockerey checked her teeth in her locker mirror one last time. She’d spent the previous evening practicing all kinds of smiles—tight-lipped and mysterious, wide and toothy, a shy one with her head tilted just so, even a quick flash meant to look like she’d heard something funny—and this smile didn’t disappoint. If she didn’t know any better, even she might have believed she was happy.

The moment Lyda closed her locker door, the fleeting remnants of her smile faded, replaced by the same dour expression she wore to school every day. Eyes on the floor, one hand swiped her oversized black Misfits T-shirt for nonexistent bits of lint or flakes of dandruff while her other hand slid through the strap of her black backpack. She was about to head to her first class of the day when a voice stopped her.

“You going to a funeral or what?”

She turned, glaring up past the stainless-steel rod embedded in her left eyebrow. The voice belonged to her Chem 12 teacher, Mr. Johnsgaard, a man predisposed to making the most inane comments at the worst possible moments.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, all the black.” He swept his hands down his body, then nodded at her. “The boots, the leggings, the skirt, the shirt, the hair. Even your lipstick. I’m thinking it’s either a funeral, or maybe you’re planning to rob a bank after school. Should I be calling the cops?” Hands in his pockets, he grinned and waggled his eyebrows as he rose up and down on his toes, anticipating her response to his supposedly witty remark.

One eyebrow raised, she took in his blue golf shirt, tan chinos, and brown slip-on shoes. “Better a funeral than whatever Walmart bargain bin you just crawled out of.” Slipping her other arm through the strap of her backpack, Lydia turned to go.

“You know, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar,” he called after her.

“I’m not looking to catch flies, Mr. Johnsgaard,” she said over her shoulder. “I prefer to swat them. Speaking of flies, you may want to check yours.”

She grinned as she turned back down the hall, certain he was doing a double take at his crotch. Only when she swept her tongue over her bare, newly straightened teeth did she remember why, for the first time in years, she was actually excited to be at school. The unfamiliar jolt of raw happiness startled her, and just like that, her smile vanished, like a candle snuffed out by a sudden draft. For some reason she couldn’t name, Lydia had always felt like joy was something that belonged to everyone else, not her.