Someone I visited had a copy of a 2011 novel by a writing teacher who lived in Spokane 20 years ago.
Seeing it reminded me of time I spent with her while working on a feature story. This was just before she achieved national prominence.
She was perfectly pleasant and it was a fine reporting experience. She was quite gracious. But there was this one tiny moment of tension.
I was paging through some voluminous appendix to her CV and noticed a reference to a review of her work in the Cleveland newspaper. But instead of "The Plain Dealer," it incorrectly said "The Plains Dealer."
I pointed this out. She would want to know, right?
Not really. At least she didn't seem to appreciate hearing it from me.
Perhaps she simply assumed I didn't know what I was talking about. That happens to me a lot.