Y’all come on down
November is a really lovely time to visit my town, here in the mountains of North Carolina.
The weekend of November 16-18 should be especially lovely, I’m thinking, capped with a tiny reading by yours truly at Asheville’s spectacular independent bookstore, Malaprop’s, from 3-4pm on Sunday, November 18th.
[More importantly, you can watch Emma march with her sousaphone in her high school band during the Holiday Parade the Saturday afternoon of that weekend. Who on earth could resist that?]
On that Sunday, I think I’ll read in a British accent or a Scottish one or as a wacky New Zealander from Paper Road, just to amuse myself and keep myself from wondering if I’m popping my "p’s" on the microphone, if I have a poppy seed between my right front tooth and that canine one, or if everyone in the audience is thinking to themselves either "I could write better than that" or "bread, orange juice, paper towels…what was that other thing?"
I’ll be reading with a Neela Rao, a colleague from a writing class I took last spring as part of the Great Smokies Writing Program, and would love to see you there, if you’re in the area.
Makes me nervous, just thinking about it. I’d better step up my aggressive moisturizing.






