Here we all are--- awaiting our taste of Brooklyn literature at noon on Sunday. My suggestions for next year; more kiosks selling iced coffee, beer, hot dogs, pretzels, please don't let Starbucks be the only game in town, and also how about a street dance held in the plaza at the end of the day. No more symposiums on contemporary Russian literature at one in the afternoon when its 90 degrees. Even if its Francine Prose reading from an anthology that she edited, its impressive, don't get me wrong, but how can you pay attention with the noise of the streets, the sirens, the dogs barking and the multitudes threading to and fro throughout the plaza?
On the plus side, Brooklyn has been compared to Paris in the 1920's, the Left Bank--- for the proliferation of writers, bloggers, and indie houses that have bloomed like geraniums in flower boxes on the brownstones. It's good to be here, folks, it's good to be in Brooklyn. Love it. Love it.
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