Is it better to live or to create? To this try to answer two friends, Jonathan Harnois, lyricist and author almost twenty years ago of a unique novel noticed (I wanna lay my head down), and Robert Lalonde, veteran of the letters who no longer needs an introduction. “I miss the days when I wrote as the bird sings”, admits the first. “Writing isn’t a religion, it’s guerrilla warfare,” enjoins Robert Lalonde, knife between his teeth. Through this open-hearted epistolary exchange, these two lovers of metaphor — between exaltation and “frouufrou” — confide in their literary disarray. Over the course of four seasons, straddling the pandemic, to overcome isolation, the two friends will take the risk of “transparency” and get to know each other better. Once past the salamalecs and the congratulations, they make word-of-mouth to each other before our eyes to rekindle the fire of writing and even practice “literary defibrillation”. Sometimes a little repetitive, but fervent, beautiful and sincere.
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