One autumn afternoon, the Montreal writer Paul Xylinides was playing outside with his niece when she called out to him to chase her. "If I catch you," he warned, "I shall turn you into a princess " "No " she answered, as she ran, "I don't want to be a princess " but it was too late, for her uncle had already caught her. "Remember, my child, imaginary days don't grow beneath trees - you have to climb up and pluck them."