mpls reads

Jon and I wish we were part of an inspiring book club. The criteria isn't that outrageous. Everyone must be willing to read good books. It is harder than one would think. We had this once. A wonderfully engaging book club where all six of us showed up with worn copies and drank coffee or wine until it was coming out of our ears. We read three books and then the honeymoon ended. Jon and I moved to NYC and the remaining four parted less than amicably over Ulysses. It's hard enough to find people who read books at all these days. Much less someone whose repertoire extends beyond James Patterson or Jennifer Weiner. I get depressed just thinking about it. We might put out an ad on CraigsList.

Tonight we went to a book reading by Nam Le. He recently graduated from the Iowa Writers' Workshop. Very impressive writing. Check out the review in the NY Times Book Review from last week. He is Vietnamese with an Aussie accent. I could have listened to him read the back of a cereal box. High fructose corn syrup as poetry. The only thing better than a great accent is an unexpectedly great accent. Which is why I hope Mr. Bean never actually says anything.