SOURCE: “Polaroids from the Head,” in Quill and Quire, Vol. 62, No. 5, May, 1996, pp. 1, 32.

In the following essay, Burns provides a character sketch of Coupland, relating his observations of Coupland's fiction.

Douglas Coupland is trying to sneak a peek at my notepad. He surveys the few lines I have written there, then leans back, and as our waiter approaches, mentions casually that I possess the handwriting of a serial killer. I harbour little doubt he is well versed in psychopath chirography, so I take care to hide my notebook from the staff here at Capers, a wholefood restaurant in downtown Vancouver.

Doug Coupland and I are indulging in “face-time.”¹ Our dinner conversation multitasks in a postmodern, microserfy, Couplandesque way. We touch on a number of subjects²: why he hates interviews; whether other writers are part of a local scene unknown to him; the age and coolness quotient of the...