It's funny the the things I worry about. Obviously there's the major things like climate change and global warming. Widespsread poverty and inequality. Violence against women. Discrimination against people of colour. But those things are so big that most of the time I squish them up and hide them under a rock. In the meantime I worry (and obsess) over the little things. Like who left the dirty tissues in the hallway. Or why is the tap in the bathroom still running?

One of those little things I was worried about was what on earth to write in one of my books when someone wanted a signed copy of my most recent collection, Pas De Deux. Just writing my name seemed inadequate. I didn't want to sign my name as then someone could use my signature to get into my bank accounts or something (I really don't think this is at all likely but tell that at 2am to paranoid Indrani). I fretted at this problem like a sore tooth.

I admire the authors who are briliant at writing witty and personal inscriptions after a two minute chat to a fan. Alice Allan did this recently when I met her and bought her book after her performance at La Mama back in I think it was February. She's an awesome poet btw and if you ever get the chance to see her perform live, you should grab it with both hands!

And then I thought back to Defenestration, my first book of poetry. I remembered writing mini essays in the front of my books as I sold them to my friends. Artists steal from each ther all the time so I figured it was okay to steal from past me. Mini essays it is!