Better writer than speaker, but still...

Monday evening was an opportunity to go and listen to one of my favourite writers at the Ottawa Writer's Festival. I normally avoid these things like the plague, but when I mentioned it to Mrs. Ottawacker, she was surprisingly keen to go, so off we went.

I've read John Irving since I lived in France and was reading everything but the things I was supposed to be reading. His style was perfect for me at that time, and to be honest, is probably perfect for me as a writer too. 

As a speaker, though, not so good. He is, admittedly, 80 - and in incredible condition for an 80-year-old, but there is something hectoring in his voice, and it sort of runs me up the wrong way. Nonetheless, he held forth for a couple of hours, and the audience seemed to like him a lot. 

Difficult to come to terms with aging. How can the word remain as vibrant and alive as the day it was written, when the person who wrote that word has altered beyond all recognition?

Still, I am glad I got to see him and, very briefly, meet him. Even if he wasn't signing any books.