I was having a conversation with my friend Pat, who doesn’t read much, but who is nonetheless imbued with inebriated folk wisdom, he asked me, “what are you doing tonight?” ” I am going to see (insert any name of any author reading in the Pac-NW) read at Third Place (or Elliot Bay, or Hugo House, or Pilot).” “Dude.” “Yeah.” “. . . what the hell is a book reading?” “It’s when someone reads from something they’ve written, and you sit in the crowd and listen. Then it’s usually followed by questions.” He looked over at me with a dead look in his eye, “No offense dude, but that sounds boring as hell. It reminds me of being in school.”