Books and a blaze

I hardly know what to call this post or what to say.  It's after 4 a.m. and I'm in our neighbours' basement.  I can't sleep.  I am trying to type quietly on this wonderfully clicky keyboard to keep from waking my husband.



This morning I was worried about what I had planned to say to the Books and Brunch Breakfast audience at the Sheraton.






 Book & Breakfast: a wonderful literary tradition in Montreal.



The event turned out to be lots of fun, and I was so relieved to be slotted first so that I could actually enjoy what all the other writers had to say.






 Signing books afterwards.




But this was what happened later...




[image error]

 A fire in our building. We were in the upper floor.




This is a photo I found on Twitter.  We are lucky to have escaped unharmed, and I pray that is the case for everyone in the building as well as the firefighters who worked to put it out.  We left with only the clothes on our back - no phones or car keys, and in my case no ID or wallet.  It is terrible to contemplate the possibility of losing everything we had, but compared to what we might have lost, it is nothing at all.  We are fortunate, too, that we have people who can take us in, and an empty apartment we're moving into in a few weeks.  It might stay unfurnished for longer than planned.




Thank you to those of you who have sent supportive messages on FB, Twitter, and elsewhere.  




There is the urge to grieve and be thankful at the same time.  I'm not sure what else to say right now.  We may know more tomorrow if anything is salvageable, though more likely it may take a few days before anyone is allowed in.




(I keep thinking of the books... how between us we had at least 16 overstuffed bookcases, and if the flames made it in, they'd go up in a flash.  And if they didn't burn, they'd be soaked through by the firehoses.)