Membership has it privileges, and for years I’ve been a member of the Crime Writers of Canada, ever since my editor at Storyteller Magazine (alas, gone now–the magazine, not my editor) told me I should join. She’d just picked up my short story, Railroaded, which was certainly about a crime, although it was not a who-dunnit, but more of a what’s-he-gonna-do-about-it.
Now even though I’m not really a crime writer, I’ve stayed with the CWC because there are many great writers in the organization, and they nurture, advise and encourage newbies like me.
But last Saturday they went above and beyond the call: I opened the National Post newspaper here in Toronto and saw an advertisement for the CWC booth at the Word On The Street Festival this coming Sunday. There was my name in the middle of the ad–they even got the accent over the “e” in Andre, something I’ve left off over the last few years just to make things simpler.
If that wasn’t enough, the ad ran again today. Does it make me famous? Okay no, but it’s a little step on the way and it’s a lot of fun. Maybe someone I knew in high school but lost touch with will recognize my name. Out of nostalgia perhaps they’ll show up and decide to buy a book. That would be good.
Either way, if you live in Toronto and you’re going to Word on The Street, stop by booth 148. I get a seat between 11 and 12, but I’ll be there all day. You can shake my hand. I got my name in a major newspaper–twice.
Many thanks to Catherine Astolfo and the CWC board for all their work to make this happen.