I may have mentioned my incredible love for the author michael chabon once, twice, or three times. since I first read the mysteries of pittsburgh, aged 14, i've wanted to see him speak - there are a few videos, and podcasts around, but it's never quite the same as actually seeing the author in the flesh.
it seemed incredible that he hadn't come over to this country in all that time - true, his books have a kind of classic americana feel to them, but that didn't have to mean that he was a pariah in this country. so when i spotted that he was going to appear at foyles, i was pretty fucking excited.
and last night stu and i went to see him read from his newest novel the yiddish policemen's union. and it turned out i was exactly right that he hadn't been over to the uk in 12 years. he very kindly signed my copies of the new novel, kavalier and clay and his debut the mysteries of pittsburgh (mine has the original, much less attractive cover), and posed with me for a photo (in which i look like i'm about to burst with joy). he is such a nice man.
i am slightly disappointed to see that the mysteries of pittsburgh has been made into a film with sienna miller. what the heck is it with that woman, turning up in films i would like to enjoy. also i think mena suvari is too old to be playing phlox. and they've cut out arthur.... i think i feel an an aneurysm coming on...
Labels: authors, books, literature, michael chabon
