After 15 years, some words

I was unpacking the boxes marked kitchen, arranging juice glasses onto the shelves when Gilles called and asked could I start to pack a bag—he had to rush home, fly out at once to New York: a plane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers. I'd had my first visit to New York City only the week before. New York had never been on my dream destination list but I seriously and unexpectedly fell head over heels in love. I'd caught New York Fever, a New Yorker told me.

Majorly weird & editing madly

From the notebooks of Lynnie Lucette Eliza MacGinnis, 1968. Yesterday all I worried about was the overpopulation of the planet, babies starving in Biafra, nuclear bombs, radiation, pollution, the extinction of the bald headed eagle, ignoring Jesus, going to hell and the possible invasion of freaky aliens who hover around our neighbourhood in spaceships called U. F. O’s or Youafoes, as my brother Fen says.

Surprise in writing

Sometimes characters are hard to get to know. They play hide and seek, especially if you've been not paying attention to them—but when they do emerge, they can just jump up from the page and knock you over. Lynnie Evans has been one those characters. The novel is almost over. She's still surprising me. I never saw the french kissing part coming. It's taken me so long to write this book, she's entered puberty!

Friends Who Care—thank you #MargaretAtwood

Like so many of her readers, however, I'd "met" her, or felt like I already had, in the pages of her books. To me, everything she's ever written is a wake up call to action. Meeting her changed my life the same way her books did. I discovered more about what I thought and believed or rather what I didn't know that I didn't know and knew more about who I was or could be—as a result. I still read—love and/or wrestle with—her work.