I’ve known Christopher McGruer as a musician, actor, and filmmaker, but as I step into his apartment, I know right away he must be a writer too. I’ve come to recognize the signs. Besides the intimidating collection of books that include Nabokov and the Journals of Sylvia Plath, there is a typewriter within arm’s reach of the table. “That still works,” he says before he offers me a Heineken. “It just needs a new ribbon.” It makes sense that he’s got drafts of novels hidden away in drawers somewhere – his song writing is archetypal in nature and his screenplays are rich with literary techniques. When I think about it, he’s got the stamp of a writer all over him. And not only is his book collection intimidating, but so is his resume. He’s got more artistic endeavour’s under his belt than his typewriter’s got keys.