My publisher has notified me in writing that I am contractually obligated to say I did a reading (a little ditty called Pub or Perish) on Sunday that corresponded with the Arkansas Literary Festival. Rumor has it I did not perish.

Thank you to the menfolk who made that reading (and writing) possible. Except for the one manfolk for whom I have no affection and who will remain nameless because I’m still pissed. It’s only been 3 or 4 years.