I'm in a van going to the airport and I'm trying hard to make conversation. Also in the van is a famous artist and novelist called Douglas Coupland and a famous novelist called David Chariandy. We have all been at a literary festival. Even though in about 20 minutes we will part ways and never see one another again, I am feeling the need to bombard these novelists with friendliness. If only I can show them how unperturbed I am by their greatness, they will be so impressed that they will remember this van ride forever.
I say to Douglas Coupland, 'Your talk was incredible!'
Douglas Coupland says thank you. He squints. "Are you the Canadian actress?" I say no, but I can't say the word "poet", let alone "writer", so I say I'm just an editor. He says, "I was trying to place it. I thought, Celine Dion?"
I laugh loudly for ages whereas he doesn't laugh.
A few hours ago I listened to Douglas Coupland give a talk. He was wearing the same bulky red sports jacket he's wearing now, like a character in King of the Hill. In his talk he showed many slides of his art. One of his artworks was a 2m-high replica of his very own head, stippled with wads of chewing gum that people had stuck on to it, including a big wad of red gum on the eyeball. It was called Gumhead. Another of his projects was to chew up his own books. He used his molars to reduce the pages to pulp, then he spat them out and fashioned the pulp into structures resembling hornets' nests. "My doctor said I wasn't allowed to eat any more books," he said. "I absolutely fried my salivary glands." At this point I was buzzing with joy. I thought, "Douglas Coupland is the most interesting man in the world."