Nothing changes, maybe even me. I wrap my scarf around my neck three times and nestle in. I drive my father’s car in the dark, in the rain, winding my way around random streets, wandering until I run out of coffee. Or I’m an early morning passenger with a bagel in my hand, passing my husband his coffee as we wander together, wondering how our lives will be next year. He drops me off at the station and the sun is […]
Nothing and everything Read More »
I wondered how it was that I had never heard of this book and its extraordinarily promising young author. I asked around, but no one seemed to know or remember Millen Brand, or his books. It’s somewhat frightening to learn that good books – even books heralded in their time – can disappear so quickly and completely. [. . .] All of Brand’s work is modest and sincere, two qualities that are undervalued, if not
My friend Teri has an article in the latest Ricepaper, titled Between Representations: Filipinos in Canadian Literature. Teri’s one of my favourite writers so I am always eager to read anything she writes, but I was especially excited to read this. She and I are both half-Filipino, and have talked in the past about how we express that in our writing. For my part, I’d say about half of my stories have either fully Filipino or
Writing and Filipinos. Read More »
Every year it feels like the last IFOA (International Festival of Authors) was just two weeks ago. Admittedly, I got an earlier than usual start this year. Yesterday, Teri and I went to a reading and interview with Ben Lerner and Ian McEwan, and it seemed to go by in a blink. Right near the end, the two authors were asked what they were working on. I can’t remember McEwan’s exact answer, but it was along
INTERVIEWER What was going on with your writing then? ISHIGURO At the time, people weren’t talking about books. They were talking about TV plays, fringe theater, cinema, rock music. Then I read Jerusalem the Golden by Margaret Drabble. By this time I’d begun reading the big nineteenth-century novels, so it came as an absolute revelation to me that the same techniques could be applied to tell a story of modern life. You didn’t have to
I’ve been reading poems like mad recently, so I got excited when Teri invited me to an evening of readings hosted by her friend, poet Gillian Sze. Even getting there felt sort of poetic, visuals full of meaning. My husband and I drove down Dundas in the rain, passing through the Junction, Little Portugal, Trinity-Bellwoods. Neighbourhoods that seemed so physically and spiritually remote when I lived in Toronto. We parked in Chinatown and walked the rest
I am proud to be participating in The Kissing Booth at Sundog Lit, two weeks of stories, poems, and essays inspired by my friend Leesa Cross-Smith’s forthcoming book, Every Kiss a War. My piece went up yesterday, and I’m thrilled about having my work amongst such great stories and poems and words. I’ve already discovered some fantastic writers, and it’s not even over! Everyone should go have a look – and consider pre-ordering Leesa’s book!
Short piece up at Sundog Lit Read More »
The summer after Grade 10, my family and I went to visit my great-uncle and great-aunt in northern California. We ended up all getting colds, and spent a few days recuperating in their home. For some reason, I only brought one tape with me – Elastica’s first album. I listened to it over and over until I grew to hate it. After that, I listened to talk radio at night. It was so quiet
Another year, another IFOA. (You can read last year’s highlights here.) This year was similar to last year in a lot of ways. I went with Teri to some things, we had sushi to eat, it was even raining like last year. Here are the highlights: – Saw Margaret Drabble being interviewed by Eleanor Wachtel. As with last year’s Paul Auster interview, I went to this one alone and was beside myself with excitement the whole
Yesterday was spent exploring, driving through the rain and taking pictures of houses, main streets, beautiful brick and stone buildings. Secret little towns and areas that surprise us. Searching for a place we can insert ourselves. Adjusting expectations. Vague words are the best I have because vague thoughts are all I have. My brain is all over the place – hence this day-late post. Another highlight from yesterday: Sleeping in my old bed in my childhood
