We're packing up the (autoshare) car this Sunday and heading out of town for the Eden Mills Writers' Festival. I went last year, and it was as wonderful in the pouring rain as it was in the late-afternoon sunshine, so this year we really can't go wrong either way. Although last year I didn't have a baby in tow, or I did but she was a blastocyst, but I'm bringing a husband this year for moral support, and such a gorgeous outdoor venue is the perfect way to mute squawky baby cries. I think we're all going to enjoy it. The schedule is up, and I regret that some of my most desired readers are double-booked. So I'm going to have to run like a madwoman to pack it all in. (Decisions, decisions: we're giving up a lot to catch Miriam Toews, but we have to, because I heard her read once before and I've been wanting more ever since; hope it's possible to zip from Terry Griggs to Julie Wilson, etc.) Yay, Eden Mills!*And, oh! Less than two weeks until the Vic Book Sale. And also Word on the Street! The only good thing about about the end of summer is a bookish September.
