OK, I admit it: I missed all of last night's events. I missed Junot Diaz and David Benioff. I missed Anne Enright and Nam Le. I missed Jeffery Deaver and Ildefonso Falcones. I missed it all.
Why would I do this? Why would I miss some of the biggest draws of this year's festival? What could possibly have been more important?
It's simple. I am getting sick.
My throat is sore, my nose is becoming stuffed, and my legs are aching. I have been going all out for four days and four nights and the pace has, well, killed me. AND... I have my reading today.
I am reminded of the sage words of Geoffrey Taylor, IFOA's director, on Day One: "Andrew, the festival is not eleven days long. It is, instead, one long day."
So, it was a hard decision, but after dinner last night at Le Select Bistro (cock's crowns, lamb's neck, lemon tart), I decided to go home to bed. I am now preparing for my talk (4pm, Studio Theatre), and drinking hot drinks. I will be fine. Do not pity me. I just wanted to explain why I went AWOL last night.
Quote of Day Four:
"It was a Great White, and it went right under our boat."
- Julie Angus
"Would you like some of my chicken heads?"
- partner-in-crime, Samantha Francis.