Leanne Dyck's blog: The Sweater Curse Ch 6 by Leanne Dyck

WARNING: This story contains adult content

Chapter Five: As I drifted from household to household, I brought my knitting needles

photo by ldyck

The Sweater Curse

Chapter Six

I was finally on my own. Yahoo! I could now claim the career path to which students with my eclectic education were entitled—teaching English in Japan, shepherding in Iceland, and guiding tourists in Greece. All I need do was learn Nihongo, Icelandic, or Greek. I wasn't interested in further study. Instead, I began my illustrious career in retail.

A rapidly aging bottled blonde pulled a pair of jeans off the rack. She wasn't only trying to deceive others but also herself. The image of her squeezing her blubber into those jeans made me want to—. I bit my tongue. “These jeans are sized rather small.” I offered her a size sixteen.

“Do you think I’m fat? I’m a size eight. I’ve always been a size eight.”

She was angry. She was also my boss’s mother-in-law. This I learnt immediately before I was told to find a new job. I found one in a local bar. There, old winos fondled me while I served them more alcohol. I kept my job until I arrested one advance by kicking an old guy right where it would hurt him the most. Yeah, my life was a thrill a minute.

I’m just not cut out to deal with the public, I thought, and found a position as a personal assistant. It was a good job until I discovered what a jerk my boss was. He wanted me to suck up for a wage. I was pretty and smart, a fact he couldn’t handle. When I was forced to point out his idiocy, he didn’t appreciate my honesty.

“You’re fired,” he snapped, and I began looking for yet another job.

I’d been paid in quarters, but I had million-dollar tastes. My solution was frequent visits to the gated community of my youth. Elevating me to this socioeconomic status was the one useful gift Mother imparted to me.

“Welcome home,” they cheered, and the champagne flowed.

I floated into these parties, knowing I could have anyone I wanted. Men were drawn to me like cat hair to black yarn.

“Hey, sexy. You’re looking hot tonight.” They smiled. I tried not to notice the drool.

I selected the charismatic and the intriguing, not always the richest. Their age and marital status weren’t important. I happily overlooked the grooved ring fingers, the wedding photos. In fact, it was a relief. It meant they didn’t hear the wedding march each time they looked at me.

The wives, however, didn’t share my joy.

“He’s my man. Get your grubby paws off him,” they hissed at me, venom dripping from their fangs.

I knew how to play because they had introduced me to the game. I followed the rules they had taught. But when I played with their men, they took it personally. They insisted that I stop, but I couldn’t. I enjoyed the game too much. Unable to stop me, they tried steering me in a different direction. “He’s Matthew Brown,” my hostess, the wife of Judge Reginald Masterson, whispered in my ear as I watched a handsome brunette. “A hardworking corporate lawyer on his way to making partner.”

“Oh, juicy.” I couldn’t hide it—I was interested.

I don’t know what happened. Did she give him the signal? Whatever it was, he was suddenly there, beside me, drink in hand.

“Hi, I’m Matthew.” He didn't look me in the eye. He was far more interested in my other body parts.

“I’m Gwen.” And the rest of me is up here, I was tempted to point out.

“Nice to meet you, Gwen.” He told my body.

“You’re a corporate lawyer.”

“Oh, yes, honey, but let’s not pretend you’d be able to understand anything about my career. Let’s pick a topic you’ll enjoy, like… I don’t know… What soap opera do you watch? I hate to see you go, but...”

He wasn't original, but he was determined. He showered me with luxurious gifts—furs, jewellery, furniture, cars. When I milked him dry, I moved on to Devin and Stephen and Philip and... There was no end to the guys who thought they could do what others couldn't—trap me permanently.

Sunday, November 30 at approximately 4:40 PM PT

The Sweater Curse

Chapter Seven

Artists were invited to our parties.

While on a walk with my dog Abby, we turned onto Dalton Street and reached the ferry terminal parking lot. I looked right and feasted my eyes on this beautiful billboard...

photo by ldyck

My favourite show...

My favourite show airs once a year in Canada. My husband knows how special this show is to me and has moved mountains to ensure that I can enjoy it. This year I logged on to CBC Gem and was welcomed to the Gillers by three of my favourite authors—Ian Williams, Ann-Marie McDonald, and John Irving (Remember that name.) The evening was hosted by the charismatic Rick Mercer.

I love the Gillers because it helps me to visualize my dream—establishing an author career. I love the Gillers because, as Ian Williams said, "...prizes like this one introduce us to books we can fall in love with." I love the Gillers because it makes Canadian authors the stars. I love the Gillers...

For a too-brief hour, I watched with eager anticipation.

Those nominated would receive $10,000. But who would win the Gillers and receive $100,000? Would it be...

Mona Awad for We Love You Bunny

Eddy Boudel Tan for The Tiger and the Cosmonaut

Emma Donoghue for The Paris Express

Emma Knight for The Life Cycle of the Common Octopus

Souvankham Thammavongsa for Pick a Colour

Rick Mercer: "During tonight's broadcast we will welcome each author to the stage. Authors at the top of their game competing for Canada's richest literary prize."

Each author welcomed us viewers into their world. We learned that...

Emma Knight enjoys writing in the Toronto Reference Library. "There's just something so calming and inspiring about being in this building filled with books... This is where my people are."

Mona Awad's favourite fairy tale author is Hans Christian Anderson. "I love how those stories can be read as deeply autobiographical... They continue to resonate with readers, even now." She called reading a "creative art."

Eddy Boudel Tan: "Whenever I'm in need of inspiration, I just head out the door. I'm very lucky to live where I live, in a West End neighbourhood of Vancouver."

Souvankham Thammavongsa: "I think inspiration and writer's block is a scam. I make it a habit. I sit at my desk at 9 and stay here 'til 5."

Emma Donoghue: "I deliberately avoid having special rituals and habits for my writing... [I]nstead, I cultivate a very workman's attitude toward writing of... As long as I have my computer anywhere in the world, I can flip it open and dive back into my writing life."

And the winner is...

In her acceptance speech, Souvankham Thammavongsa said, "When I was a kid, I didn't know how to become a writer. My mom and dad are not writers. I printed and bound my own books and sold them out of my school knapsack...on front lawns, at farmers' markets, and at small press fairs. Thank you to anyone who has ever bought one of the books that I made."

Five minutes with 2025 Giller winner Souvankham Thammavongsa

Book Review: How to Pronounce Knife stories by Souvankham Thammavongsa

Rick Mercer: "It has been a banner year for Canadian authors—not just here at home but internationally. Two of the most prestigious literary awards were won by Canadians this year... Michael Crummey won the Dublin Literary Award for his book The Adversary and David Szalay won the Booker Prize for his novel Flesh."

"The Giller Prize was founded in 1994 by Jack Rabinovitch in honour of his late wife, literary journalist Doris Giller, who passed away from cancer the year before." -The Giller Prize