Binding problem: Apology to reader Krislyn

This is an apology to Malarky reader Krislyn who noted in an Amazon.ca review that she/he had received a copy of Malarky with a binding problem. I am so very sorry for this interruption to your reading. I wrote an apology to you on Amazon in a review, but it was screened out because I guess writers cannot apologize to readers through a review.

If any other reader purchases a copy of Malarky & discovers a similar binding problem please contact me by email mrsokana@gmail.com or my publisher Biblioasis directly and your copy will be immediately replaced. You may also return your copy to the shop/online retailer and the shop can give you a replacement copy.

Should you have any problem getting your copy replaced, I shall personally see that it is replaced for you.

I believe it is a very very tiny number of copies where there’s a binding problem. It does happen to books. Alas. Machines are not infallible. Thanks for understanding.

Sprouting decline

Yesterday I planted 6 brussel sprout plants & 2 tomato plants in my community garden plot. I had the sagging feeling afterwards that I may not be cut out for gardening. I harvested some geriatric celery and some senior, failure to thrive, leeks for the guinea pigs.
I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

In French I was born in 1949

Fantastic news, on today’s Radio-Canada segment that discussed Malarky, alongside the Art Spiegelman Exhibit at the VAG and George Fetherling’s memoir, it was stated that I was born in 1949. Zing! Just like that I was 33 years older and delighted to be so. Because this meant my left kidney was no worse than it has been to date. At first I thought I was 70, but in fact no, they’d made me a mere 64. I was a bit sad because the most useful people I know are 70+.

The host Marie-Louise confused me with George Fetherling. Then she seemed to generously remark that obviously I’d lived a rich life with lots of experiences (it was all in very rapido French, so this may not be the exact translation). I have lived a life with lots of recent attention on the weather. It’s a frisky business this weather watching! I was born in 1971, but am much happier with this reassigned birth date so it may stick.

A grand merci to Radio-Canada and to their Vancouver correspondent Monsieur Charles for talking eloquently and passionately about my book. It’s lovely to hear one’s work discussed en Francais. So mes cheries french publishers, nous vous attendons!

Click here to scroll down to the Art Spiegelman segment et bien ecouter! 

et merci encore a Charles et Marie-Louise for making my day with this great moment! I am a big Radio-Canada fan and listener (I have a slow, tortoise like approach to the beloved french language, but God loves a french speaking tortoise)

Malarky on CBC Radio’s The Next Chapter

On Monday I was interviewed on The Next Chapter about Malarky and was especially delighted to be on the same programme as Claire Messud.

You can listen to the short bit on Malarky after you’ve listened to the long and thoughtful interview with Mrs Messud and her Nora by clicking here.

Footless and sunny

We have had two consecutive days of sunshine & I’ve had two consecutive days of operating on one foot temporarily. I’m growing accustomed to both.

I failed to report the generous digging of my community garden patch by Helen & Earl. Collectively we have 182 + years between us. It took approx 117 of those years to finally remove that other pesky half of the granny geranium plant. It takes a village to dig out a stubborn geranium. Happy June to you all.

Malarky gets her first mash note

The email server bought a warm message about Malarky today.

I received my first mash note, since I didn’t know what a mash note was (*) it is designated my first mash note … it was from Mr. Lemony Snicket or the fella who holds a cup of tea and writes as him. He wrote to say he thinks Malarky is terrific, which was very kind of him. As I read the message the weather outside was bright blue. It was not raining. (important to note the weather upon receipt of first mash note)

I had to ask him what a mash note was because I thought perhaps it was something to do with the TV show MASH or potato mashers. By reply, he generously explained a mash note is an effusive fan letter.

Thank you Mr Lemony Snicket. It was like getting a message from Mr Bump. (I am a big fan of Mr Bump) and up there beside getting tweeted by my favourite weather forecaster Johanna and my favourite bird flu expert Crawford Killian.

Also, Radio-Canada came calling, there will be some talk of Malarky on one of their programmes next week by a man named Charles. Do you hear that French publishers? Do you hear that Quebec publishers? French readers want to read Malarky too. So roll up, roll up and translate her. Enough of this risk averse carry on. Nom d’un chien, zut alors, for the love of God.

I’ve decided Cesar Aira is the only man to translate the book into Spanish. So give us a ring Cesar…hopefully not at the same time as Mr Bump. Wouldn’t want to miss either of you.

It’s going to rain on Saturday, if you are wondering.

Excited

..to read this translation (by Clodagh Kinsella) of Michelle Bernstein’s The Night. Congratulations to Bookworks for doing what many have til now not managed. Now who would like me to pay to review it for their newspaper/journal ?

Also, enjoyed this interview with Cesar Aira and especially his description of what he likes about small publishers and how a reader who really wishes to find his work will find it.

Also, was keen to learn that Senor Aira translates work, perhaps he might translate Malarky to Spanish someday? I can think of no finer pairing than Aira and Our Woman.

Weather score

There is a most tuneful wind happening outside at this hour that is interspersed with a tinkling of light rain against the window. Sometimes the weather is so melodious despite its dour visuals. Today overcast beyond overcast after yesterday’s beloved bright blue.

I had a major gardening expedition yesterday with the prompting and assistance of G — another gardener at our community garden. G suggested we cut back my nuclear granny of a geranium and transplant her to the borders of our larger garden. Granny Geranium is a massive bird of a plant. She’s the size of a peacock with its feathers spanning out.

After at least 25 minutes of serious navvy activity with a fork and a spade each we finally managed to remove about a half of said granny geranium. Then we carried her to the border. I can attest she was the weight of a man. I remarked to G it was like hauling a dead body, although I have no experience of such to be clear.

What was stunning was her roots had gone so far down, which G pointed out is precisely what the plant is meant to do. She is doing exactly what she should, she kept warmly observing. I left with mud in my eye, muddy arms and fantastically muddy legs. It was exhilarating I confess and I admitted to G … you know I don’t think I ever truly gardened until this moment.

In minor but worthy of note excitement, the first potato is making his presence felt. I already killed the fennel (who kills fennel?) but it may yet reincarnate.

Descent/dissent

I had a splended evening in the very warm company of the supporters of the Indian Summer Festival tonight. The festival, which I urge all to attend, happens in July in Vancouver and I’ll be appearing on a panel this year. Tonight was a fundraiser event, with a beautiful view of the sea, exquisite food and lots of fun.
The music was especially memorable. An unusal instrument something between a sitar and a violin with a megaphone horn at the end of it acompaneid by some drums, which had the most fantastic tuning hammer. (photo coming). I will uncover the correct name for these instruments.

After all that joy and joviality the news began to seep in that the election was not looking good for the NDP and by the time I returned home catastrophe had struck! I am pleased that the candidate was elected in our riding, but the clear geographic divisions on the map begin to ressemble the US in this province.

It’s perplexing to contemplate that some voters may not share the same values as oneself around education, equality, poverty accress to mental health support, the environment for starters. I remind myself this is democracy, one vote, one person but long for the system we have in ireland where you can assign your vote to transfer to other candidates if your number one is not elected on the first round. This means Independents and the Green can win and be elected.

From Saturday’s Irish Times

The sun shone in Dublin and Vancouver on Saturday weather-wise my sources confirm. I was actually in Victoria this weekend attending the BC Book Prize Gala. (Report coming) Here is a screen grab from Saturday’s Irish Times.