Well, what do you know?

I am gobsmacked, as Percival Leary himself might have it. My buddy Dave Bidini successfully defended my novel and ultimately emerged with a victory! (As I vowed on Q, Jian Ghomeshi’s show, I will from henceforth purchase every beer that Dave Bidini drinks. Lucky for me, he isn’t that big a beer drinker.)

I was out of the country when the debates were taking place. I was in Cuba…more specifically, I was off the coast of Cuba…more specifically still, I was off the coast of a Cuban island with the enchanting name of La Isla de Juventud, the Island of Youth. It has also been called Parrot Island and Treasure Island and was once the haunt of pirates.

Anyway, that’s where I was, and that’s my excuse for not hearing the broadcasts, although between you and I, even if I had been right here in frigid Canada, I don’t know that I would have listened to them. I think most authors feel that their works shouldn’t be subjected to intense scrutiny. They are fragile, ephemeral things, these fictions we create, and they blush and mottle when too many eyes are laid upon them.

But good going, Dave!