through the letter slot

I've decided to give Atwood another chance. Not that she cares, I'm certain, but I feel a little guilty that I've mistakenly blamed The Diviners on her for so long. She was, however, responsible for Surfacing, an atrocity I was attributing to Margaret Lawrence, so perhaps it's a draw. It seems like the right thing to do, the Canadian thing to do, to give her another chance. I'm starting with Alias Grace, which Jenny says is written about me. I find that hard to believe since Atwood and I had our falling out. But it's intriguing when people say things like that; in an egomaniacal kind of way I feel compelled to read it. I've also got The Edible Woman and The Handmaid's Tale, both of which are on the Jenny List. Generally I trust Jenny until she starts recommending historical fiction.

I love it when Jenny comes here. I love having a friend with whom I can talk about books and writing and writers and books and never run out of new ideas and questions and exciting plans and creativity. It's strange and ironic that I see more of Jenny now that we live 300 kilometres apart than we did when we lived a five minutes away.

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