Auckland Writers and Readers Festival

I went to the Gala Opening of the Auckland Writers and Readers Festival last night. I had lots of short manic chats to people, including to Jolisa Gracewood and her husband, and returned home too wired to sleep deeply. In between dreams, the children climbed into bed with me. They always get worried when I go out at night, and have to make sure that I have returned home. I think they share the anxiety that James James Morrison Morrison Weatherby George Dupree had about his mother. Of course his mother drove to the end of the town and never returned, so his fears were justified. I have never chaired a session, but I have recurring dreams about being late to performances, and having to play instruments to audiences when in fact I don’t know how to play them. I know that lots of people think that dreams are boring, but I am always fascinated by how familiar places distort, and home towns become foreign cities. I am exploring that a bit in my novel. Which I better get back to.

By the way, here is real Jeffrey Eugenides session, to be chaired by Kate di Goldi. And here is the Emily Perkins and Jeffrey Eugenides session, to be chaired by Jolisa Gracewood. I am hoping to attend them both, even if it means that I can’t go to the Oliver Jeffers session.