I
live outside a small village south of Montreal, quite close
to the American border. My
husband Michael and I have two golden retrievers. Until recently
we had three. Two by choice, Maggie and Trudy and one by chance,
having found Seamus wandering sick on the road. He was in terrible
condition and had apparently spent most of his life tied up
in a barn. But despite this a moment didn't go by when he wasn't
gentle and kind and grateful. And for two years we poured love
into him, and food and medicine. He loved stuffed toys and Trudy,
who looks a little like a stuffed toy. Actually, so does Michael.
Seamus loved him too.
But
eventually his body gave out. He was still bright-eyed, still
kissed us, still managed a thump with his tail. But he couldn't
go on. And so the old wanderer made his last trip to the vet,
and after the injection his heart stopped. But as Gamache
describes in A FATAL GRACE/DEAD COLD about putting his own
dog, Sonny down. He had the impression his heart didn't so
much stop as that Sonny had finally given it all away. So
too with Seamus.
Years
of abuse, of neglect, of sorrow. And still Seamus had love
to give. Michael and I have become dedicated supporters of
the SPCA and the no-kill shelter near us. We encourage you
too as well, though we suspect most of you already support
the SPCA, or your local equivilant.
I'd
like to tell you a little bit about myself.
I
was born in Toronto in 1958 and became a journalist and radio
host with the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, specializing
in hard news and current affairs. My first job was in Toronto
and then moved to Thunder Bay at the far tip of Lake Superior,
in Ontario. It was a great place to learn the art and craft
of radio and interviewing, and listening. That was the key.
A good interviewer rarely speaks, she listens. Closely and
carefully. I think the same is true of writers.
From
Thunder Bay I moved to Winnipeg to produce documentaries and
host the CBC afternoon show. It was a hugely creative time
with amazingly creative people. But I decided I needed to
host a morning show, and so accepted a job in Quebec City.
The advantage of a morning show is that it has the largest
audience, the disadvantage is having to rise at 4am.
But
Quebec City offered other advantages that far outweighed the
ungodly hour. It's staggeringly beautiful and almost totally
French and I wanted to learn. Within weeks I'd called Quebecers
'good pumpkins', ordered flaming mice in a restaurant, for
dessert naturally, and asked a taxi driver to 'take me to
the war, please.' He turned around and asked 'Which war exactly,
Madame?' Fortunately elegant and venerable Quebec City has
a very tolerant and gentle nature and simply smiled at me.
From
there the job took me to Montreal, where I ended my career
on CBC Radio's noon programme.
In
my mid-thirties the most remarkable thing happened. I fell
in love with Michael, the head of hematology at the Montreal
Children's Hospital. He'd go on to hold the first named chair
in pediatric hematology in Canada, something I take full credit
for, out of his hearing.
It's an amazing and blessed thing to find love later in life.
It was my first marriage and his second. He'd lost his first
wife to cancer a few years earlier and that had just about
killed him. Sad and grieving we met and began a gentle and
tentative courtship, both of us slightly fearful, but overcome
with the rightness of it. And overcome with gratitude that
this should happen to us and deeply grateful to the family
and friends who supported us.
Eleven
years later we live in an old United Empire Loyalist brick
home in the country, surrounded by maple woods and mountains
and smelly dogs.
There
are times when I'm in tears writing. Not because I'm so moved
by my own writing, but out of gratitude that I get to do this.
In my life as a journalist I covered deaths and accidents
and horrible events, as well as the quieter disasters of despair
and poverty. Now, every morning I go to my office, put the
coffee on, fire up the computer and visit my imaginary friends,
Gamache and Beauvoir and Clara and Peter. What a privilege
it is to write. I hope you enjoy reading the books as much
as I enjoy writing them.
If you wish to receive emails from me sent from time-to-time
with my very latest news and information regarding book tours
etc, please subscribed to our new free Newsletter distribution
service.
A photographer friend, Ian Crysler and his wife Barb Reid
visited us recently and Ian took photos of their time staying
in our guest house. We thought you might be interested (the
slide show is running near the top of this page). The two
skiers are Ian and Barb, the two people sitting are Michael
and me. If you'd like to visit Ian's website
just go to: www.iancrysler.com
 
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