By Boni Wagner-Stafford, Cofounder & Publisher, Ingenium Books
I’ve been reflecting on why our publishing program at Ingenium Books matters so deeply—not just to our business, but to me personally. One of the gob-smacking privileges of being the cofounder and publisher of a small, growing indie hybrid press is that I get to shape our catalogue. I get to decide which voices we amplify, which stories we champion, and which messages we choose to send into the world.
And for me, those choices are shaped by a lifetime of searching for belonging.
A Childhood of Constant Uprooting
I grew up moving every 18 to 24 months: Regina, Kelvington, Fort St. John, Port Hardy, Duncan, Kamloops, Cranbrook. Then Victoria, Edmonton, and Vancouver. These were not just moves; they were uprootings.
I became the perpetual “new girl,” learning to wear a friendly, open face while carrying anxiety quietly inside. Too often I felt othered—misunderstood, conspicuous, out of place.
I’ll never forget the moment, just a few weeks into yet another new school, when a boy spit on me in the hallway and told me I wasn’t welcome. I was thirteen.
Those experiences carve grooves into who you become. They shape your understanding of belonging and its absence. And they never really leave you.
An Intergenerational Story of Belonging
Only later in life did I realize how deeply this pattern was woven into the generations before me.
My grandfather fled persecution in Russia and found refuge in Canada—a place where he, too, had to start over, make his way, and build a sense of belonging from scratch. His story, and the echo of it through my own life, became the foundation of my latest book, Nothing But White Ash.
That book is many things: historical fiction, family memory, a reclamation of a silenced past. But at its core, it is a story about what it means to seek safety, acceptance, and a place to stand. It is about the universal human struggle to belong.
Writing that book crystallized something for me: the theme of belonging hasn’t just been present in my life—it has been driving it.
Journalism Taught Me What Disconnection Costs
My nearly 15 years as a journalist — where I moved to and reported Prince George, Edmonton, to Vancouver — only intensified this understanding. I told stories about people living in poverty, about inequities in policy, about privilege, and about political structures that either invite people in or push them out.
I saw firsthand how disconnection erodes trust. How marginalized voices become invisible. How democracy weakens when we lose the ability—or the willingness—to listen to each other.
Journalism taught me that stories are not ornamental. They are civic infrastructure.
They are how we understand ourselves and each other.
They are how we build and sustain a healthy society.
Publishing Became the Next Chapter of That Work
When we started Ingenium Books a decade ago, it felt like a homecoming—a way to bring together my childhood experiences, my journalistic instincts, my family’s history, and my belief in the transformative power of story.
Our publishing program is a direct reflection of that mission.
We champion books that:
- build bridges rather than walls,
- widen empathy,
- reveal shared humanity across diverse experiences,
- and create spaces where belonging becomes possible.
Whether it’s a memoir, a novel, or a work of nonfiction, the common thread is connection. We publish voices that open doors—just as Canada once opened a door for my grandfather, and as books once opened doors for me.
Stories Are Acts of Welcome
Publishing can be a gatekeeping industry. But it can also be a welcoming one.
At Ingenium Books, we choose welcome.
We choose empathy.
We choose connection.
Because connection changes people.
Because empathy heals.
Because belonging is not a luxury—it’s a human need.
And because democracy itself relies on our willingness to see each other clearly and generously.
We Transform Only When We Do It Together
My childhood taught me the pain of disconnection.
My grandfather’s journey taught me the possibility of renewal.
Journalism taught me the stakes.
And publishing allows me to respond—to create spaces where stories help us see and understand one another.
When people ask why our publishing program matters, the answer is this:
Because stories help us belong—to each other, to our communities, and to ourselves.
Because Canada has always been shaped by people seeking a safer, better life.
Because democracy thrives on understanding.
Because transformation—real transformation—only happens together.
This is the heart of Ingenium Books: publishing stories that bring us closer, not farther apart. Stories that remind us we are not alone. Stories that show how belonging is built.
