Miriam Toews accepts 2016 Writers' Trust Fellowship

Wooo. Whoa. All the feelings! Plus wine, plus menopause, plus social media, am I right?
Thank You. I’m going to read something. Thank you so much. This is an incredible honour. The Writers’ Trust has done so much in the last 40 years to enrich the literary community of Canada. I know I have been encouraged and sustained by its generous support, and for that I cannot thank you enough.
I tried to write a poem for this occasion. I’ve never written a poem except for once when I was sixteen and my boyfriend determined that he would be happier with a girl named Terrapin. He told me I was more of a “Molly” or a “Jodi.” “But is that important?” I asked him. He said unfortunately it was.
When I got home that evening I sat in my father’s easy chair like Lucy Jordan in the Maryann Faithfull song, except in the song she says “In my Daddy’s easy chair” and I don’t call my father daddy. I sat in the dark with my legs slung over one of the soft arms of the chair listening to Lionel Richie and the Commodores - the same song, over and over, “we were too blind to see but then most of all / I do love you still” - and watching ordinary snow fall against the yellow streetlight. All I remember from that poem was a line about the fridge turning on and turning off and something about the night and about silence.
I lit the poem on fire in the kitchen sink while my parents slept in each other’s arms in a room down the hall. I sat on the counter and rinsed the ashes down the drain.
So this is my second poem and I’m dedicating it to writers. It’s called Surrender. It’s also called Don’t Surrender. It’s also called Easy Chair. It’s also called A Man and a Woman and a Terrapin Are One. It’s also called What Even is a Terrapin? It’s also called Love. This is the poem: Writers, can you hear me? You saved my life. Thank you.