So the story goes…

Alex Barris, my father, told stories as a career – via his typewriter or at a microphone.

He had a knack. Whenever he launched into an introduction, even if we were familiar with every word that followed, we knew we were in for a treat. My father, Alex Barris, had a unique talent for telling stories. And even if we knew it was a shaggy-dog story (one artificially stretched-out to build the suspense), we never tired of his telling it.

“Ever heard the story about the famous piano tuner?” he might begin. (more…)

The face of writing

WCDR volunteers at the “Word on the Street” booth last Sunday afternoon in Toronto”s Queen’s Park Circle. (l-r) Ted Barris, Deepam Wadds, Donna Thompson & Adele Simmons.

The man approached us with plenty of confidence. He seemed self-assured, but had an inquisitive look on his face too. He pulled out a pen and paper ready to make some notes about who we were. One of us at our booth, on Wellesley Street in Toronto, asked him the burning question of the day:

“Are you a writer?”

“Sure am, “ he said. “I’m a poet. Have been all my life.”

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