Woe Is the Life of an Uneducated Book Kitten...Sometimes...

Last night I drove to the University of New Hampshire to see Edward P. Jones give a reading. This would not be a big deal for most people, but I am a serious baby, and was scared out of my wits about driving to an unfamiliar location, in someone else's car, and in the rain, no less. Especially considering I haven't driven in over a year. (No, not because I was incarcerated, sillies. Just have no wheels.) After several foiled plans and the inability to cajole anyone into driving me, I resolved myself to the fact that I couldn't do it, I was too nervous, even though the use of a vehicle had been offered. It was only after Significant Dave, busy man that he is, said he would drive me that I decided to just go ahead and do it. I can't let him have a big ninny for a girlfriend, I want him to think I'm tough. I am so tired of being such a loser!

Turns out, the MUB was not hard to find at all. It was right down the street from a boy I used to date some time ago. He lost all rights and privileges to the Book Kitten after he insisted loudly, in the middle of a cafe one Easter (hey, almost an anniversary, loser boy), that, no, it was in fact Blue Radley, he should know, he was an English professor and I hadn't even been to college. Left him sitting in the coffee shop with his chai and his bad attitude, never to set eyes upon my glorious orange fur again.

Anyway, I parked a million miles away from the MUB, and had to walk back. I was nervous, I didn't feel like I should be there. I worried at any minute someone would start yelling "Intruder! She doesn't belong here! She can barely manage using 'its' and 'it's' correctly!" I felt better in seeing that many of the people I came across were my age and older, but I was a little amazed that I was the only person using an umbrella in the freezing cold rain. Guess they don't teach you that in school.

As I got closer to the MUB, I saw a woman standing at the bottom of the driveway, holding a sign that read "PARKING FOR EDWARD." I thought, "It's nice that people are so enthusiastic for him, but how annoying, I wish she had been there earlier before I parked in Pittsburgh." Of course, as I got closer I saw she was bending the corners, it actually read "PARKING FOR EDWARDS." Turns out, John and Elizabeth Edwards were making an appearance at the same time, and the place was mobbed. I had to push through throngs of people crowding the halls. They were busy signing petitions, waving posters, handing out flyers. Some girl shoved her hand in my face.

"Free 'Stop Global Warning' button?" she said.

"No, thanks, I'm fine with it," I told her, and kept pressing on.

Edward P. Jones was amazing. He was a handsome older black man, wearing a suit jacket and oxford, jeans and brown tassel loafers with black socks. (!!! Is this kosher in the fashion world?) He read the beginning of two of his newer short stories, which were wonderful. He seemed awkward and shy, with his hands shoved deep in his jean pockets and not glancing up every time people opened and closed the door in search of the John Edwards assembly. He read wonderfully, not stumbling once. After, there was a quick question and answer (we had to relinquish the room to Delta Xi Phi for their talent show) and he came off as quite funny, but also quite crumudgeonly. All these fresh-faced kids asked him questions about his writing technique and inspiration and how to be a better writer, and he gave grumbling, curt answers. He had no inspiration, he felt research was crap, just make things up. He talked about how he disliked the glossary of characters they had added to the paperback version of The Known World, his novel that won him the Pulitzer. He said he would like to credit his readers with having more intelligence, and think they would not find a glossary necessary.

Jones also said some things that made me feel better about being an uneducated loser. He said that school is useless, that you don't need it to write. That the only thing you can do in life to make yourself a better writer is to read, read, read. Don't waste your time trying to figure out how to improve your writing, that's time you could have spent reading. It calmed me a bit, because after walking about the campus and sitting there with all those kids, I felt miserable at never having been to school. I want to be the girl walking with an armful of books, sitting in an English class, staring wide-eyed at her professor in all his elbow-patched glory, he who has lost his belief in his ability to get through to his students and has started to get a paunch beneath his tweed jacket...uh, something like that.

After, I asked Jones to sign my book. I now have a signed first edition hardcover copy of The Known World, and this baby is going to pay for Bella to go to college some day...I ran into a guy I know from town after the reading and he was super-jealous I got to sit behind Jones as he waited to go up on stage, and I think when I told him I too had taken the day off to be able to go, he fell a little bit in love with me. Good to know that uneducated, directionally inept, little old Book Kitten still holds some sway. I got back in my borrowed car and drove home, singing the new Modest Mouse song at the top of my lungs, racking the evening up as a small success.

Oh yeah, the whole book reading business? I'll be back to it soon, with a vengeance, like Die Hard...you'll see.