His most recent novel, Brother (2017), was about a boy shot by a policeman and the aftermath for his family. He writes slender books that go straight to the heart.
I’ve Been Meaning to Tell You – subtitled “a letter to my daughter” – is short (barely 90 pages) with a bright cover there is, as you pick it up, nothing to prepare you for its power, unless you already know Chariandy’s fiction. For she is the reason his new book exists.
I t is breakfast time in Vancouver and David Chariandy and his 15-year-old daughter are sitting side by side on a sofa – he has warned that Skyping might have to be squeezed in, that the family tends to be hectic in the pre-school hours, but he knows it matters to include his daughter in the conversation.
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