Where the literati come out to play

Confirmed bookworms like myself may have no doubt noticed we're getting more and more authors scuttling through our region.

Names like Chris Crutcher (already stopped in at Quincy class and may be planning a Moses Lake stop, according to his Web site), Jess Walter (appearance at a Big Bend Community College, according to his Web site) and Sherman Alexie (speech in Wenatchee) are practically knocking on my door.

Of course, I'm a little biased in my glee, as these are three writers I grew up reading and, in Crutcher and Walter's case, people I've pestered with the occasional e-mail seeking advice for my own writing career.

But I like the trend that some genuinely big names in the literature world are putting in appearances in the greater Columbia Basin area, and some practically right on our own door step, even if the appearances are not necessarily open to the public.

I think it bodes well for our region, where enthusiasm for the arts seems to be at an all-time high, at least, in the nearly five years since I've been residing here.

But then, I was surprised last year when "Nocturnal America" author John Keeble clearly expressed his intrigue with the Moses Lake and Columbia Basin areas prior to a March visit at the Moses Lake Library and yet I was the only member of the public who showed up for his reading! And I'd taken the time off work to be sure I got to go, sit and listen!

Still, it used to be, I'd have to drive home to Spokane to hear people of Alexie, Walter and Crutcher's ilk speak, but as gas prices surge - we wish it cost only an arm and a leg - I'm more than happy to let them make the drive to come and see me.

These names join such local authors as Lenora D'Arcy of Ephrata, Sam Ivey of Moses Lake, Robert Ruby of Moses Lake and our own Dennis Clay, bless him, and poets like Ben Merrill of Moses Lake, to name just a few of our talented residents.

Seeing all those names together makes me think our area is poised in the next five years to begin offering its own unique literary festival. Resident scribes would no doubt get the first focus, but we could also take advantage of our central location to coax other writers to make a stop in on their way to Spokane, the Tri-Cities and Seattle.

Once we get them to visit once, it shouldn't be too hard to get them to swing on through again.

But all this may just be wishful thinking on my part.

After all, I'm the one with daydreams of life like a bad sitcom, me with my requisite way-too-attractive-for-me-wife and annoying neighbors in the form of celebrated authors, who pop in to irritate me with my own unpublished novel's status:

John Updike (still alive as of this writing) as he sips on a cup of coffee he poured for himself without asking: "I just published my 900th novel!"

Long pause as I glare at him, to the delight of the canned audience laughter. He continues to speak, unaware of the imminent danger surrounding him.

"How's, um, how's that first novel comin', Weave?"

"It's trying!" I shriek in one of the show's patented catchphrases, the Steve Urkelesque "Did I do that?" of modern times.

"Oh, Weaver," sighs my RWTAFMW. Applause, applause from the recording.

My sitcom would probably not be taped before a live studio audience.

Sigh … someday.

But in the meantime, it appears we're off to an awfully good start.

Author, author … Welcome.