I went to the book party yesterday for Scott Timberg’s book.
It’s usually warm in Southern California winter or not, but it’s cool right now, cool and wet. The trees and bushes in the yard were damp, the flowers blooming. The house was large with a nice yard built into the hillside. I got to the party, and it was already crowded there. I didn’t know anyone except Doug Dutton and Kim Dower and Scott’s lovely wife Sara. I bought a book and asked Scott to sign it, but he was busy talking with important people so I never got a signature. But I had a great conversation with Doug who is teaching at Los Angeles City College and at the Colburn School. Doug is a legend in Los Angeles literary life. Duttons Bookstore in North Hollywood and the one in Brentwood are the places where my life as a writer and thinking lover of books emerged. I am grateful for every hour I spent at those bookstores.
Kim Dower and I had a great conversation as well, mostly about movies she was suggesting that I see. We don’t see enough movies, but the ones she suggested sounded good. At a book party, I always look for the one person, like me, who doesn’t know how to talk to people they don’t know but instead is sitting in a corner reading a book. There was one person looking particularly happy, not at all anti-social , just very content alone in the living room. He was lying on the couch, his straight hair thrown back, and a huge book in his lap. I didn’t want to interrupt him to ask the name of the book so I waved to him. Without taking his eyes off the book, Scott’s son Ian waved back.