Wednesday, October 22, 2003

It is Wednesday, and all the stuff that was killing me over the weekend has been completed, including this small thing, which was too much trouble. At least I don't have to cover the Festival itself.

Why do people go to book readings? The same reason they go to rock concerts, I guess. I haven't been to a reading in many years; in my case it was just to see someone famous -- John Barth, Erica Jong -- whom I admired. The appeal quickly wore off.

I am rather inclined to read books and books about the people who write books, but I don't care much to see them, meet them or hear them.

I can't think of a writer I admire, living or dead, whom I'd so much as walk across the street to see. It's unusual for me to do that even with people I know.

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