Worst. Person. Ever.
No, this is not an announcement of my auto-biography. (I bet you saw that coming – sorry…)
On the picture, you see the small hospital library that I took with me for my heavy-dose-chemotherapy-followed-by-autlogous-cell-transplant that will keep me in an isolation room for the next 3 weeks. (Maybe more about that in some future post…)
Actually, I read Coupland’s latest a few days ago. It’s the kind of book that’s difficult to put aside. I kept thinking “I’l just read a few lines from the next chapter. Actually, let me read a few pages. Well, that was a short chapter. Let me just read a few lines from the next chapter.” Etc.
Hey, if you can write sentences like
What is a bus but failure crystallised into the form of two storeys of metal, painted red, hurled out into the world to hoover up losers from the streets of London.
then I’ll read your book too and chances are high I will find it hard to put aside too. Someone who can write like that can write my biography and call it “Worst. Person. Ever.” Anytime!
As an aside, what is it about Canadians? I have only a handful of friends, but half of them are Canadian. Joni Mitchel is Canadian, Neil Young is Canadian, Robbie Robertson is Canadian, Leonard Cohen is Canadian, … My kids are teenagers now, but if we still had to get started raising a family, I would consider moving to Canada to give them a head start in life.