Man, that reading last night kinda rocked.

The turnout was small, but friendly and enthusiastic. I'd never read "Impossible Dreams" for an audience before, and I didn't realize what a crowd-pleaser it is. It's a sweet story with lots of laugh lines, and a good choice for reading aloud. I'm not a great raconteur -- I have sort of primitive basic public speaking skills -- but choice of material is important, too. Somebody told me it was one of the best readings they've ever heard. That does a writer's heart good.

It was great seeing my fellow reader Mark Budz (who just finished his newest book, whoo!) and his wife Marina, too. A bunch of us went down to the pub afterward and had some drinks, though Heather and I bailed around 9:30, since it's a weeknight and we had the longish train-and-car ride back to our place in the east bay. I'm still kinda jazzed about the whole event, honestly. I wish there'd been a hundred people there. Though then I probably would've gotten nervous and knocked over the podium and and spilled water down my front or something. So it's all for the best! And my crazy autumn of readings is through. No more readings until, like, February, when I'll do one to promote my new collection. (Details to follow as the day approaches.)