I’ve known my husband E for fourteen years now — we met at Queen’s University in Canada when I was a freshman and he was a sophomore (although in Canada, at least back then, we referred to such people as ‘first-year’ and ‘second-year’ students). When I started this journal (and the aborted one before it) I had the idea that I would keep his accomplishments more or less removed from this blog, because my blog is all about me stepping out from his shadow and, well, yadda yadda, but this reasoning now strikes me as rather bogus, the kind of thinking I’ve picked up from bad TV movies or Oprah or whatever.

Fact is, he’s a very big and very great part of my life, thus he can’t help but be part of this blog, at least now and then; plus I never felt particularly bothered about ‘being in his shadow’. I was off alone in some dark corner anyway, doing my own thing, reading and writing my way towards the dreams I’ve been pursuing ever since I was twelve. And though I have some performer in me and I like the spotlight as much as (possibly more then) the next person, I’m a writer, which means I’m a watcher, and a lot of watching is best done from the sidelines. E’s shadow serves me well in many ways. It helps, of course, that what he does is planets away from what I do. If he was a bestselling critically acclaimed writer, for example, then instead of this blog entry I would be writing something much closer to this.

Anyway, E is the cover story of the new issue of Discover — or rather, his company is, but (at least to me) it’s one of those cases where the man is the work and the work is the man — and I am feeling every iota the proud wife. And I love his full-page photo.


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