Just dashing out for a very busy day, including a swing by my bank this afternoon – my bank manager, the inimitable Dave Lim who is the star of the singing dancing troupe the Bank Notes – has invited me to my tiny branch’s celebration of its 100th anniversary. Soon, despite this hallowed history, the branch is being torn down for condos. Thus, life in downtown Toronto.
And speaking of the unspeakable in downtown Toronto, that man is on the front page again. Surely these new revelations of hideousness will rid us of him. Please please please.
And … I feel better today. Several friends have already written to cheer me up about the memoir. The irony – the great irony of all this – is that the memoir was my attempt to be commercial. My book on my great-grandfather I thought would have wide appeal because it’s about a Jewish artist and aren’t Jews the “people of the book”? Visions of vast sales danced. And then crumpled. Not so much, it turns out in the Jewish book-buying department.
So this time I thought – here’s a winner. There are MILLIONS of Beatles fans of all ages, and Paul McCartney is still going strong. Everyone will want to read about what it was like back then, for one imaginative little girl. And just to make it resonate, I put in the background stuff about my family.
Which, it turned out, was what everyone wanted to read. So my big attempt at being commercial – get the hook!
Ah well. Luckily I will not starve because of this mistake, and neither will my cat. And now out into the day. On my bicycle, because it’s mild. A beautiful day in downtown Toronto, for this fairly cheerful, not about to be published in the near future writer.