TANYA ROHRMOSER

I love spoilers. Much to the chagrin of those around me, I’ve always needed to know what comes last, well, first. Whether I’m poking my nose about the end of a new novel, scanning a magazine's last pages — you know there’s always a jumble of fun stuff back there — or skimming a synopses some kind stranger left for me online, before I settle in I take a good run at finding the ending. Chagrin.

 

Here’s the thing though: once I know what’s to come, what’s left but to sit back and enjoy the ride? I don’t just get to see how the story unfolds, I get to see how the story unfolds. And hopefully it’s done in a satisfying way, with finesse, strong character development, snappy dialogue, and some damn good storytelling. I want to watch the creators put those pieces together — and, what’s more, I want to learn how they do it. So, yes. We know where this is going, I challenge the final page. Carry me. Convince me. Seduce me.

 

Ok, let’s not pretend there isn’t a wee bit of anxiety involved here. (Please just assume this makes me highly observant and detail oriented.) And, I mean, I could tell you where I’m from, or my favourite varietal, or share my deep affection for Fleetwood Mac and Californication. But I am first a storyteller, an observer, and a lister and listener of language. I love language, in all its inky musical glory; love how humans put feelings into words, shape words into narrative, and slip them — flaws, raised eyebrows, and all — into our shared history.

 

And, as Margaret Atwood so deliciously says, “In the end, we'll all become stories." 

 

What better place is there to begin?