Hello out there. Remember me? I haven't slipped off the edge of the world just yet. I've just been busy with one thing or another.
Anyways, I've finished my 10'th Canuck book. Wayson Choy is a writer I've been meaning to read for a long time. The Jade Peony still collects dust on my bookshelves. For one reason or another I haven't gotten around to it. While that book is not yet in the on deck circle, I will be reading it soon.
I first read an extract from Not Yet a little while ago. While the material - Choy's two brushes with death in less than 5 years and his thoughts on family and mortality - is not exactly cheerful, I was struck by both his candour and grace. I knew I had to go out and get the book.
My first impressions were not wrong. This book quickly became THE book I was reading, bumping aside a couple of others I'd been working my way through. On subways and buses, in restaurants and in bed, this book captured me. This book is a memoir done right by a natural storyteller. Even in the darkest moments, Choy does not wallow or indulge in self-pity and that makes a big difference. It's a book I was sad to finish.