Wednesday, November 17, 2010


Last night I went to a short story reading at Bukowski's in Cambridge (no, I am not linking it because you people have ADD already, so stay with me, it's a bar, and maybe, I am a little lazy). There was a contest, which I did not enter, but a few of my friends had. The first place winner got $2500. The third place winner got steak knives.

We got there to find a line outside. It felt like some kind of club situation or a concert, except the people in line had on the chunky glasses and the quirky haircuts and a few were reading, you know, books, while waiting to get into a bar. The reading started with the third place winner. It was an irreverent bit about a guy who had mistakingly researched the wrong person's bio for a writing pitch. Afterward he finished reading it, the crowd roared. They cheered. They clinked glasses. Over a short story.

There were two more really good stories. More cheering. Seriously, I though maybe the Sox were on (I know, wrong season) or the Pats (possible but, on a Tuesday night?). People were that excited. It was crazy.

There should be more events where people scream over good writing. That, and I love Boston.

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