The bar opened. Writers being thirsty for knowledge stirred from the opulence of the Harbour Towers hotel seeking liquid inspiration. Patrick Taylor was holding court in the foyer surrounded by gorgeous nubile women hanging on his every word.
I slithered over to hear what the master was saying. It was really very profound. Talk of cultural roots and comparisons of his children's grasp of Canada versus his own sense of the country having himself moved here from Ireland. Watching the women adulating this famous author I thought, "He can't be as intelligent and learned as he sounds, it must be the Irish accent."
I turned to another genius, Jane Hall and tried out an Irish accent on her hoping to elevate myself in this crowd of brilliance. She didn't notice.
I concluded Patrick's delivery is merely a product of his years as a Obstetrician. That's what must have made his mind so fertile. A pregnant pause. Daily peering at new squalling humanity upside down must have given him his inside take on the Irish that has made his writing cherished the world over.
Anthony Dalton, the grand adventure writer, had been dragged from some Arctic ship or other to be in our midst. I don't know with all the books he's published this year, some dozen or more how he finds time to be the national President of the Canadian Author's Association.
Russ Harvey, the new media guru, was glowing in our midst. He's long ago ascended to cyber sainthood and only occasionally incarnates for the benefit of those of us still using pen and keyboard.
Riot police were called in to barricade the bar so that organizers Jean Kay and Perry Wilson could herd the authors to their seats.
BC Minister of Arts Kevin Krueger was appreciated by all as he spoke of his powerful efforts on behalf of the BC Arts Community to raise funding for artists. His son is a professional writer. Mr. Krueger was such a delightful raconteur that several writers in the audience were rapidly jotting notes in hope of plagiariazing his stories to create sure fire best sellers.
After the riot police were sent home the authors stormed the bar again and continued to graze amidst the marvellous hotel hoer d'oves.
Open mike followed. As I was part for this event I have no recollection at all of what transpired. Writers are recluses who hide behind characters. Open mikes are particular traumatic events. However the audiences always seem to be highly entertained by this. Mostly other writers like to watch their peers squirm.
After, Ben Nuttal Smith, who had recited poetry earlier, and was 10 foot tall from learning his latest novel has been accepted for publication,played guitar and sang songs from the 30's and 40's. He wondered why I didn't know all the words. What was wrong with me?
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