Resurrection

So the Washington Post reviewed Angels the other day, and thanks be for Liz Hand, a perfect stranger, who did the right thing.

Back from Pittsburgh and the reading at Joseph-Beth where a few of the clan showed up. I heard for the first time, the story of my grandfather's Irish wake, back in 1936, when they still laid out the body at home. Seems a couple of the lads had a bit much to drink and wanted to raise a glass to Doc, so they took him out of the casket and sat him up in a chair, and properly toasted him. Now, I can't vouch for the story, but the aunties insist it true, so be it.

Long and Winding Road

Catching my breath after a few days on the West Coast and meeting the marvelous people of Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, Iowa City, and Milwaukee. Whew.

My old stomping grounds in Pittsburgh are next--tomorrow night at Joseph-Beth on the Southside. I love coming back to the hometown, seeing the old crowd, visiting the old school. Angels is set, in part, just outside of the city in a mythical place along the Monogahela River. Back in the day, I could see the river flow far below my dorm room and off to the west catch the orange glow of the steel mills. The people there were always strangely friendly, angels almost.

Hope to see you at the bookstore!