In my final year, I dashed off an essay on John Keats the night before it was due. I can still see myself a few days later walking into his book-filled office. He gave me his usual warm smile, then his face turned grave. “Bobby, I’ve given you an A,” he said, “but this is the last time. Writing comes too easily to you. You must work harder.”
There was nothing I could say. I’d been caught out. He was right. They were words that drove me like no others.
After I graduated I didn’t see him again for many years. Then one Halloween night, I was taking my oldest son out trick-or-treating in our new neighbourhood. We knocked on a door and to my amazement Professor Chamberlain answered it. I mumbled an awkward hello then dashed with my son off his front porch. For years I made a point of avoiding his street.
In 2009, when my first novel was published, I worked up the nerve to knock on his door again. Sure enough, he’d moved to Vancouver. I found his e-mail address and wrote:
Professor Chamberlain:
I was a student of yours back in the 1970s and have always looked forward to the time when I could present to you a book that I was able to get published. Fortunately that day arrived and my first novel,
Old City Hall,
has recently been published in nine languages.
I’d love a chance to meet you again after all these years and give you a copy. It would mean so much to me.
The same day he wrote back:
Dear Bobby (if I remember rightly . . . or maybe you are now a more stately Robert, as befits a distinguished author! If so excuse the old handle),
It is so good to hear from you with such splendid news. Congratulations. This is a real achievement. I’m very much looking forward to reading
Old City Hall.
Good on you.
Later that year he was in Toronto. We met for coffee and I brought my faded Keats essay with me, his red-marked comments still there on the front page. When I showed it to him and told him how much his words and teaching had meant to me, tears came to both of our eyes.
Now Professor Chamberlin insists that I call him Ted. I’m still getting used to it.
Which leads me to thank those who have helped me with this novel. (Please note: feel free to skip this paragraph as it is filled with names that will mean nothing to you.) Matthew Arbeid, Paul Barker, David Basskin, George Chaker, Alison Clarke, Carey Diamond, Natalka Falcomer, Ash Farrelly, Joseph Frankel, Bonnie Freedman, Elizabeth Fisher, Dr. Marc Gelman, Edward Greenspan, Anneliese Grosfeld, Gary Grill, Kevin Hanson, Angela Hughes, David Israelson, Amy Jacobson, Christina Jennings, Jake Jesin, Nicola Jowett, Justine Keyserlingk, Tom Klatt, Denise Kask, Marvin Kurz, Corinne LaBalme, Julie Lacey, Michael Levine, James Levine, Howard Lichtman, Kathy McDonald, Douglas Preston, Jim Rankin, Michelle Sheppard, Alvin Shidlowski, Victoria Skurnick, Patty Winsa.
A special nod to Travis West, my online guru, for redoing my webpage. (You can check it out at
robertrotenberg.com
and sign up as a subscriber. Don’t worry, I only send out short and funny updates a few times a year and
no one
gets your e-mail address but me.)
Plus a shout-out (wouldn’t you love to know who came up with that phrase?) to Dinah Forbes, my extraordinary new editor.
And of course to my wife, Vaune Davis; my children; and all those close to me.
On to book five.
Toronto
December 2012
ROBERT ROTENBERG
is a criminal lawyer in Toronto, where he lives with his family.
Stranglehold
is his fourth novel.
Visit
www.robertrotenberg.com
.
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Old City Hall
The Guilty Plea
Stray Bullets
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This Touchstone export edition May 2013
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ISBN 978-1-4516-4241-4
ISBN 978-1-4767-5774-2 (ebook)