I had a bulleted list of highlights written out about my seven-hour day spent at the International Festival of Authors (mostly) with Teri, but for some reason it all seems so personal.
I think it has to do with the feeling of being a fan in the way Teri so wonderfully described it. I met my Humber writing mentor, Donna Morrissey, after her interview, and she was so charming and funny and personable and wise, just like she is in the many emails we’ve exchanged over the past five months. Teri took our picture, and in it my smile is cranked to 11, and I felt cranked to 11. Teri and I went for lunch afterwards, and as we waited to cross the street, huddled under the same umbrella, I couldn’t stop talking about it.
The last reading of the day was Paul Auster. Teri and I parted ways beforehand, and I made my way through puddles to the reading location. It was a large theatre, and I got there early to get a good seat. Aside from a couple of people, I don’t know many others who are fans of Paul Auster – I don’t mean that to sound snobby, like I’m in on a secret. I just don’t know many others. So the reading to me felt very private, a special nice thing to do for myself. I picked a seat at the end of the third row, nestled in a corner. Of course, the row filled up quickly and I was soon not alone, not really, but mentally I felt like I was curled up in a blanket on my couch.
Maybe that’s why it’s difficult to outline the day. It was full of little private inner moments like that. I’m honestly surprised I got so fangirly, but I guess there’s some almost magical quality for me about writer interviews. There’s always something said that zaps me like a laser right behind my eyes. And I was zapped a lot today! I’m tired!