I’m in Quebec City for the ImagiNation Writers’ Festival to promote Seen Reading and to talk about publishing as art, commerce — and one heck of a long slog — alongside Miguel Syjuco.
My time here has been spent buying more books than food, marveling at the architecture, double-fisting croissants and facing the harsh reality that eight years of French studies has all but been forgotten.
One item of note:
I’d just like to put down somewhere that I didn’t get the tiny, microwaved doughnuts drowned in maple syrup at Les Delices de l’Erable (.75/doughnut for four) because I’m a tourist; I just can’t pass up a tiny doughnut. They’re like little orphans. They feel loved in my belly!
Look at the sunny, happy, tiny doughnuts — the tiny, cakey doughnuts that took a full twenty-four hours to fully expire. Other things in my belly include salami, dried mango and wheat beer. Wait, I had some almonds! Unsalted! Tragedy avoided.