The reading at Macalester took place at the college’s art gallery. (It’s currently showing an installation that consists of pieces of insulation material hanging on strings from the ceiling; yeah, I don’t get it either.) I was introduced by my friend Marlon James, who teaches fiction here. I’m in the middle of his new novel, The Book of Night Women; it’s very good. I’m particularly fond of what he does with language.
I read from a short personal essay I’ve been working on and then from Secret Son. The most interesting question for me came when someone in the audience wondered why my main character is a man. It’s true (and this isn’t my first time.) But, with apologies to Flaubert, Youssef, c’est moi.
I just got back from dinner and I’m tired. More soon, I hope.