Dear Brilliant Canadian Reader,
“Aw, shucks,” you say. “You had me at brilliant.”
Well, as I said, I’m going to write this in secret “Canadian” code, eh. First off, I hope your Maple syrup is flowing freely and the beaver tails are stacked high in your cupboard. May your bags of Cheezies and boxes of Coffee Crisps never run out. The news I have for you isn’t “Gretzky is getting traded” sad. Nor is it the kind of news that’ll make you go all apoplectic Diefenbaker. It’s just that there are publishers in The Great White North looking at Dragon Assassin and so I can’t release it until they say “Yay” or “Take off.” So you have a bit of a wait.
Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.
I do feel bad that I’m all “isn’t it great that this episode is out” to everyone else on my newsletter then tell you “guess what it’s not for you, yet.” So I’ve gone all Margaret Atwood and written an invigorating poem for you. It will light up your heart like a goal light.
Here it is:
You don’t need four downs.
Nor do you frown at -40.
You’re tougher than Gordy Howe.
May I borrow your jumper cables?
I didn’t say it was a good poem. I’m not Gord Downey.
Again my deepest apologies. When the books come out in Canada I will hurry hard to tell you.
Until then my fellow Canucks, keep your sticks on the ice. You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.