last week i attended a book reading and signing by david sedaris. as i sat in the audience, looking around at the very bookish crowd around me, i felt like a poser.
i've never hid the fact i hated reading and writing. i put forth the absolute bare minimum of effort in both subjects through high school. one would have thought this void in my education would have been exposed eventually, however, due to my studies in college, i rarely had to read any books that didn't have large pictures of buildings in it. i could have very well gone the rest of my life not giving much thought to "books".
however, during my last year of college, i became friends with two girls who had immersed themselves into the study of writing and composition. the timing of our meeting couldn't have been better. in high school i would have despised these girls. i'm guessing they were the girls in class who quickly raised their hands when the teacher asked if anyone could explain the significance of the conch shell in "lord of the flies" which would have pissed me off. i say despised, but let's be honest, i would have had a secret crush on them. as life would have it though, i met these two shortly after my discovery of the lit-rock band "the decemberists". these two situations combined, i found myself with a latent love of literature. through the years, we've kept in touch through witty e-mails and occasionally i'd ask for suggestions on reading material. years ago it was suggested i read david sedaris. however, due to a large, unread stack of books, and my incredibly slow reading speed, i never got around to it.
then, a few months ago, a local bookstore announced, david sedaris would be reading and signing books in november. the recommendation made years ago was remembered, so i picked up two of his books, quickly read, and fell in love with them. i found the stories to be quirky and witty, and enjoyed how the smallest, most insignificant situations could be comically strung out over several pages. upon finishing the first book, i sent a text to one of my friends, stating i had finally read "me talk pretty one day". the response i received back was "geez, do i have to hold your hand through everything?" see what i mean! writers...such a way with words.
so, that's how i found myself amongst a very literary crowd last thursday. like everyone else there, i waited in line to have my book signed. now, after years of hating any form of literature, the discovery of an indie-lit-rock-folk band, the making of two friends who opened my eyes to the creativity that can be found in writing, countless suggestions, two book purchases and a few days of reading, what could this best selling author have written in my book to finish this whole story off?
writers, such a way with words.