It was a hit.

A really big hit.

It became pretty hard to keep up, and then, after one reader misinterpreted my thoughts regarding the use of fire while giving a reading, I decided to step back to spend more time with my family. Regardless, the letters kept coming, and so I feel I owe it to my loyal fans to resurrect the column, which is what I’m doing right now.

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Dear Bitter Writer:

You’re likely aware of the Twitter Challenge in which women were asked to, “Describe yourself like a male author would.” The point of this, of course, was to illustrate how men objectified women, but what I would find really interesting with you– as an impossibly mediocre white man in possession of a level of confidence that outstrips your very modest competencies by an incalculable magnitude– is to have you describe yourself. I have included a photograph in case you should need a reference point.

Lynn from Montreal

Dear Lynn:

In Havana he was known as “ La muerte incómoda.”

It was a term of respect, of great respect, in fact, and more than a little fear. What had Michael Murray done to earn such a nickname from the gentle people of Cuba?

Well, that’s a long and complicated story that will reveal itself in time, but for now we should just imagine the man as he sat there, commandingly, in the barber’s chair. His face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, and his most striking feature was his opaline green eyes, which could be both alluring or intimidating, as the situation required. A part of his barber’s apron fell open from the cooling breeze of the fan and revealed the shirt he was wearing. There were little baseball players on it. He looked up, his eyes clear and even as he wiped some sweat off his upper lip, “ ¿Cómo está mi calva haciendo allí?” he asked the trembling barber. And in that moment Murray’s beauty was revealed the edge of a very sharp knife.

Dear Bitter Writer:

It recently came to my attention that an author at a major publishing house threatened to slap a reviewer who didn’t like his moronic, insulting book, and I was wondering if the publishing house was going to punish him for it, or if white male authors can do literally anything?

Karen in Toronto

Dear Karen:

Have you seen White Male Author: Infinity War, yet?

Easily the best of the franchise. Just fantastic.

At any rate, this movie goes a long way to answer your question. In it, Thanos

attempts to destroy Planet Earth, and after incapacitating both The Avengers and The X-Men it seemed that victory was certain. Right at this despairing point in the movie, White Male Author showed up and blasted him with his laser pulses.

He then flew around Thanos so quickly that the wind currents kept him pinned to the ground while the other superheroes freed themselves from the Polaris Fog that Thanos had used to trap them, and then all together were able to cast Thanos back into the Canyons of Zorg. So it’s clear that although White Male Author is VERY powerful, certainly superior to Spiderman, he might not be as invincible as The Hulk or The Thing.

At any rate, even though White Male Author is very, very powerful, I don’t think he can do literally anything.

I’m a pretty busy guy so I don’t have an awful lot of time for reading, but I tell you, I wish I did. I love that feeling when you’re reading a good book, like one by Stephen King, and you just can’t stop turning the pages! It’s like a friggin’ addiction or something and you just have to know who’s gonna be the next to get killed, you know? So exciting. Reading, it’s a real passion, if I had the time.

So on my bookcases you can see all sorts of stuff. This is a football. I got it a Bill’s game. It’s signed by Jim Kelly, the best goddamn passer of his era. I tell you, he wasn’t afraid of taking a hit in order to make the pass. Class act, Jim Kelly, class act.

Over here we have my bobble-head doll. I look a little slimmer in it than real life, I guess, ha-ha! And this is a Toronto Argonaut football helmet radio. Had it since I was a kid.

This is the Bible, written by God, obviously. I take a lot of inspiration from it. Means a lot to me. Really, really would have liked to have to sat down and had a pint or two with Jesus. He was a real man of the people. This one is Chicken Soup for the Soul. It’s also inspirational, like a bible for people that haven’t yet had their Jesus moment. This is a book  about the cars from the Fast and the Furious movies. It’s pretty cool. By the way, I just want to say that it was really sad that the guy from those movies died, but at least it was a warrior’s death, so respect to him and his family.

Let’s see, I got some more stuff over here: some fantasy football magazines, Infinite Jest—never got through it—a Florida travel guide and Beloved by Toni Morrison. I wept like a baby when I read that book. Loved the line about being “full of a baby’s venom.” I tell you, if I were the type to get a tattoo, that’s the tattoo I would get. Toni Morrison rocks. Moving on, I got a puck here signed by the Toronto Maple Leafs, and oh, this is the Velveteen Rabbit. I’ve had it since I was a kid, it’s about a doll you can’t kill.

These are some of the student’s writings:

A.P. 16 years old

Dear Mister Murray:

You must really like Zellers to have started up that website. Man, I don’t know if there’s anything I like as much as you like Zellers. I think you should just get over Zellers. It’s gone. Get a life, dude. Shop online or something.

This is my paragraph:

My name is Michael Murray and I’m really old and I love Zellers.  All I have in my life is Zellers. I eat there every day and I pretend that I’m looking to buy clothes just so I can be around people. Sometimes I go into the change room to imagine all the girls who have been in their underwear there.

J.C. 17 years old

Dear Mister Murray:

We’re getting extra credit for this so please let Mrs. M know that I did this, okay?

This is my paragraph:

My mom made me go to Zellers to pick up a tarp. She wanted the tarp to wrap my father’s body in. She killed him with several forks. He was a bad man, my dad. He used to beat her and me and my little sister Peggy, but one day my mother could take it no longer and she killed him with the forks until he was dead, and that’s how I ended up in Zellers!

A.A. 16 years old

Dear Mister Murray:

Please tell teacher that I completed the project.

This is my paragraph:

I think Zellers sounds like a candy that grandparents would give out at Halloween. It sounds like something that would taste old and stale, the sort of candy you’d give to your kid sister because you didn’t want it.

F.S. 18 years old

Dear Mister Murray:

Here is my completed assignment, please tell my teacher that I promptly completed the assignment.

This is my paragraph:

I’m not a Muslim, but sometimes I like to wear a Burqa just to see how the world reacts to me. People judge you and think you’re a terrorist even though you’re not. Whenever I went into Zellers people were suspicious of me because of my Burqa. They thought I was dishonest because they couldn’t see my face, but I could see theirs and I could tell what they were thinking. One day a security guard at Zellers accused me of shoplifting and frisked me to make sure I hadn’t taken anything. I didn’t believe him and acted outraged, but the truth was that I was turned on when he put his hands on me, when he touched me. I went back to Zellers every week after that hoping he would do it again, and he did, each time. I will miss Zellers like hell when it goes.