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…
It's a cloudy, dark day today, though warmer than it has been. It's quiet. Somewhere around 4pm, there was suddenly nothing else I wanted to do than read an old favourite, The Mayor of Casterbridge. At one point in my life I would have called this my favourite book. I don't…
I finished reading this book a few days ago. It took me a while, because reading Alice Munro both uplifts me and makes me feel like writing is futile. To distract myself from the latter feeling, I often flipped to the inscription on the front. Yesterday it was my birthday…
