As with all things to do with the Scream Literary Festival, this story starts in a bar - the Victory Café. Its brown and beige interior is familiar to most Torontonians who live in the Annex neighbourhood. A good selection of craft beer keeps its patio crammed through the summer months. Its small but well-trod stage on the second floor has made it a touch point for the city's artistic communities, the poets among them.
I'm sitting at one of the few empty tables on the patio. Bill Kennedy appears around the corner of the building with briefcase in hand. His brown hair is approaching shoulder length, and he's wearing shorts and a checkered button-up tee-shirt – standard business attire for the Scream's artistic director.