There is a book, a novel, that I love.

The book is an effable sense, one that we don't have a great word for in English.

A feeling of the monumental choice you can never revisit.

Of loss, of consequence, of not quite regret.

So when I hear the author is coming to my favorite bookstore to give a reading, I flip.

Grab my dog-heared hardcover, hoping to score a signature shore, but more than anything,

trying to connect with someone whose world-building, whose characters, whose ideas have touched me.

Reading a book the way I read this one, it creates this sense of traveling through someone's

mind with them, its intimate, revelatory, its charged.

And this particular text for me, it's also kind of a North Star.

Lighting the way toward the writer I'd like to someday become, that is how strongly I

feel and how disappointed I am.

When the author sits down in front of a crowded room, reads a few lines, says he has just

enough time for a couple signatures, then stands up to leave.

And I don't know what I expected from this guy.

We're going to become best pals, exchange, midnight, text, drafts of new stories, what

am I asking for?

I've got his book, but more do I want.

Wow.

Today on Snap Judgment, we can't just leave well enough alone.

Snap probably presents Jorge, Gina, Ydante.

My name is Kim Washington, and please remember, stories on the radio are all in the

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