I started a Creative Writing course in one of those moment in life when you think: “I have to do something or I’ll go crazy.”
I had never done it before and I saw very little use in sitting down in a room full of people, head down writing. Then the teacher passed around a poem, about the importance of listening and being listened to.
I didn’t get her book then, though.
The following lesson, I asked her about it and she offered to lend it to me. Almost disdainful, I reply: “Oh no, if I put my hands on a book, it’s very unlikely I’ll let it go away!”
I bought it and I read it.
For pure coincidence, I had just finished reading ‘Bodily Harm‘ by Margaret Atwood. In ‘Colour Me In’ I found, in the narrative line, the same witty and intricate scheme.
There’s a woman, who’s painting her mother-in-law’s house of any colour she can find.
There’s a wife and mother who has just learnt she has cancer.
There’s an English student, spending a year in Bologna, a town of activism and demonstrations.
These women are the same woman and it’s simply fascinating to see them merge together, still keeping their own individuality, strengths and weaknesses, colours and shades.
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