Live literary reading

I go there sometimes myself, outside of school assignments. It is a rather large library, which has a great coffee shop. I usually get a cup of Java and a sweet roll, then look around for a comfy chair. With book in hand, I then settle in and before long, in my mind, I am no longer in Minnesota. I am amazed that even at the age of fifty I can still get lost in a book. Books have always had that affect on me. I find reading such a great way to relax. I feel the stress fall of me as soon as I walk in the library doors. I live in Brooklyn Park so it was easy for me to get there from my home. The first reading I attended was on June 19th at 7:00 PM and the author that presented was Mr. Jonathan Odell. Mr. Odell is the author of the books The View from Delphi and his most recent book, The Healing. Free cookies, coffee and bottle water were served, and copies of Mr. Odell books were made available to purchase. The library coordinator announced that Mr. Odell would be signing books at the end of the reading. Now, I must admit before scouting around to find a live reading that I had never heard of Jonathan Odell. So, I had no clue to what style of writer he was. When I discovered that he was a white writer and he wrote stories about the South, where the focus is particular on African-American characters, I did an automatic eye roll, and I thought to myself, Here we go again. I need to listen to another Gone With the Wind and Driving Miss Daisy story like I need a hole in my head. Before the session began Mr. Odell walked around the room and greeted each member of the audience. There were around twenty or so people there, and most of them looked to be around late 60s or older. There was one young African-American lady who sat near me, and she looked to be in her 20s. In addition, there was also one African-American male there that looked to be in his 60s and he sat in the back. I noticed a young man sitting a row over from me who had a folder as if he was going to take notes. I brought along a pad and pen myself with the same purpose in mind. I assumed the young man was there for a class requirement, as was I. I went over to him and introduced myself and asked him if he was a St. Catherine student, hoping that someone else from our class was there. He wasn’t but he was there for a class he attends at the University of Minnesota. We chatted a while and then I returned back to my seat. Mr. Odell made his way over to me and introduced himself. He thanked me for coming and I, in kind, thanked him for coming to our area and told him that I looked forward to hearing more about his work. He then asked me if I was from the East coast. I giggled a little and said, No sir, I am from Indiana. He then replied in a uniquely Southern and almost feminine manner, Oh really, now, to me you sound like you are from Nu Yawk. Which I found to be odd because since moving to Minnesota I cannot tell you how many people have told me that I sound like I am from the South. I guess it makes sense because prior to relocating to Minnesota I lived in South Carolina. And, if that did not seal in my accent, the years growing up with Southern parents sure did. Mr. Odell asked me about my name. I said Ernestine is a good Southern name. He then asked me if I had any family from the South and I shared with him that both of my parents were from the South. My mom is from Mississippi and my dad was born and raised in