by Kiara Brinkman
I'll be reading at the Corte Madera Book Passage this Friday, which happens to be Friday the 13th. I was not a superstitious person until given this date for my very first reading. I've spent the past few months not walking under ladders, not opening umbrellas indoors, and not breaking mirrors. It has been impossible to avoid black cats, because my parents have a black cat (named Boo), and he is not at all scary or unlucky.
For those of you who are curious, the fear of Friday the 13th is called paraskavedekatriaphobia, and according to The Stress Management Center and Phobia Institute, more than 17 million people are affected. (I'm trying not to become part of this statistic.)
Anyway, regardless of the date, I'm happy to be reading at Book Passage. Whenever I return to Corte Madera and Larkspur, I'm overwhelmed by memories of my adolescence-- right down the street is the DMV where I passed my driving test in 1996, and a little bit farther down the road is Redwood High School, my alma mater.
Well, I'm off to practice the excerpts I plan to read, and I hope by Friday I won't be over-rehearsed or suffering from paraskavedekatriaphobia.
This is such a Brinkmanesque post. I love it.
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