That's
Dennis Tafoya at the far right, reading from his new novel
The Poor Boy's Game, in New Hope, Pa., and me just to the left of the author's head, appearing to be ignoring him, but really just acting fast to keep my steak sandwich from leaping off the plate.
I suggested a few years ago that
Tafoya, along with authors such as John McFetridge, David Corbett, and Wallace Stroby, might constitute a school of crime writers who "share certain features: yearning emotion, stories at least as wistful as they are tragic, and empathy with characters whatever their orientation on the legal or even moral compass." and here's part of what I wrote when I first ran into
The Poor Boy's Game.
Hear Tafoya and Jon McGoran read, this Thursday at 6:30 p.m., at Mysterious Bookshop in New York. Support good authors and independent bookshops.
© Peter Rozovsky 2014 Labels: Dennis Tafoya, Jon McGoran, Mysterious Bookshop
2 Comments:
Be very wary of steak sandwiches that leap off plates. I continue to follow your superb blog even as my own blogging activities have been erratic -- ah, life's monkey wrenches complicate things down here on the Redneck Riviera from which I send my best wishes.
I managed to pin the sandwich down, and it made satisfactory eating, though the French fries could have been better. Thanks for the kind words, and may your travels between blog posts prove relaxing.
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