Tag: book festival

and just like that, it’s June

I’m not really sure where January, February, March, April and May have all gotten themselves off to, but I hope they’re having fun.  It seems like just a day or two ago I was struggling to remember to write 2017 on things instead of 2016 (or the inexplicable occasions where I wrote 1996….what?), and here

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a festival of books

I have a confession to make.  I have never been to a book festival or convention or other celebration of books.  Not as a reader, certainly not as a writer.  Some of the reasons for this are fundamental issues of who I am, namely the agoraphobic part of who I am.  Large crowds, even mediocre

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