Cage Match!

I almost met fightclub dude Chuck Palahniuk today getting off the plane from Toronto in Calgary for Wordfest. We would have rode from the airport to the hotel together. There was someone in a white cowboy hat with a sign that said "J. Millar / C. Palahnuik" waiting for me at the airport when I got off the plane. She was awesome. But then Chuck's "handler" showed up (she was actually very nice when I was trying to get off the plane -- "after you" she said --) she basically told us thanks anyway but fuck off -- they'd arranged their own private car to the hotel. She had very stylish glasses.

So now I propose a cage match in which BookThug takes on Random House for the next Palahniuk novella.

Spoiler: we'd turn it down anyway.

Random House: call me.

My Failed 3-Day Novel

Yesterday I had thanksgiving dinner dinner with my inlaws in London. Among those present was a couple who had arrived unannounced. I learned at some point that this couple happen to live in Clinton. I asked how they felt about Alice Munro winning the Nobel prize. I wasn't able to tell if their blank and confused looks were the result of confusion or if they couldn't hear me. They told me later that they are each deaf in one ear. But they had still never heard of Alice Munro, or the Nobel Prize for that matter. "We's just here for the free meal" said the woman, whose name was "Fioner." At least that's how her sister pronounced it.