great fiction

Last night I went to a reading at Russell Books. New to me, though I've heard/read her name everywhere since moving to Victoria, Yasuko Thanh read from her much lauded book Floating Like the Dead, my dear friend Lee Henderson read from his incredible The Man Game, and in the category of "friend who I feel like I know thanks to social media, but am only meeting in person for the first time now", Amanda Leduc who read from her book that I'm itching to start reading The Miracles of Ordinary Men.

I got to be read great fiction, chat with people I've been wanting to talk with for a while, and be out at night. My only regret, that I hadn't remembered the reading until 7pm. If I had remembered earlier I would have been able to look a little nicer for the event, but the flash of it meant a flurry of trying to get the family loaded in the car so that I could be dropped off at the bookstore. (I can't drive thanks to my knee and transit would have meant too much walking/not enough time.) It was madness, but I don't think anyone minded my dishevelled state. Or if they did, they were too polite to let on.