I am lucky No. 222 for the David Sedaris reading and signing on Monday at Northern Lights in Canal Park. I got my ticket today after about a half hour of wondering which Sedaris book I wanted a second copy of. I already have his complete works. I also have his complete audio collection in my car, from my days as sportswriter, where weekends found me on the long, boring stretchs to St. Cloud, Madison, and Minneapolis.
I found a compilation of short stories he edited called "Children Playing Before a Statue of Hercules" which fit the requisite purchase. Phew.
I’ll be covering it anyway, but I wanted to make sure Sedaris would write something awful in my copy of "Naked," the book that introduced me to the writer.
For the record, if I’m doing math correctly, this means that as of right now, that line could be four hours long. Maybe I can write my story about it from the sidewalk outside the store.
There are an unlimited supply of tickets, and Sedaris is the sort of writer who will stick around until he has met everyone, though.