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A Love Letter (sort of)
From Stephanie Kemp

Dear Sarah Polley,

I am not mad at you just because you stole the title of my would be everything:

“Stories We Tell.”

I am also not mad at you for making every movie I ever wanted to make:

“Away From Her”
“Take This Waltz”
“Stories We Tell”

I haven’t seen “Women Talking” or read “Run Towards the Danger,” but I am inclined to be furious.

I am totally not kidding but sincerely very happy to hear that your concussion is behind you.

I am also furious that you have, once again, inspired me to keep going.

Thank you doesn’t feel quite right, but I was mostly well raised so I will sign off with:

Best (although I am quite sure that I don’t fully mean this either),


Stephanie Kemp


ps.  I just read your interview in the New Yorker. This didn’t help at all, which means it totally did:

“There’s not one narrative — both within a family and then also within oneself — of who a person is. I could tell so many stories about each of my parents that would make them look like the best parents in the world, or the worst parents in the world. They’re all true.”


Photo by: Thea Traff for the New Yorker