I am doing a gig at the Edinburgh Book Festival next weekend (with Rose Tremain - too late, it's sold out!) and having dinner with Margaret Atwood on Saturday night, apparently.
This account by a writer attending the festival is the most amusing summing up I have ever read of the sheer glamour and pace of the literary life and the social whirl we all move in, hanging out with Mart and Phil and Salman and even Gordon. This is why Madonna and Sarah Ferguson started writing books, you know.
Wow, dinner with Margaret Atwood...I'd say have a great time, but that's pretty much a given!
ReplyDeleteDid you get to try on the Jackson trousers??
The article is indeed amusing. My husband says the life of a (freelance) artist of any kind is really the height of existentialism so these forays into public life are much needed and well deserved, if only as confirmation that you are doing the right thing. I see it as the reward for experiencing the hours of loneliness of the long distance runner (not forgetting regular cheques dropping on the mat!).
ReplyDeleteI hope you have a really great time in Edinburgh. Dare I ask 'What are you going wear?'!
Anything waterproof
ReplyDeleteYou must let us know whether Margaret Atwood turns up for dinner or dines with you via a remote control long distance device. The LongSpoon, perhaps?
ReplyDeleteMy undergraduate mentor is great friends with Margaret Atwood. I remember when this starstruck ugrad realized that the "Peggy" who peppered his conversation was the great writer. Nickname dropping: a new art form.
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