The next River Readers meetup will be a quiet gathering over warm drinks and well-worn pages—a live Q&A at our favorite local café, where readers and questions are equally welcome. I’ll be there with a few marked-up copies, ready to talk about the stories beneath the story. If you’ve ever wanted to ask something that lingered long after the last line, this is your moment. Come as you are. Bring a question, or don’t. The conversation always finds its way.
This month’s reading will be from The Art of Being Almost—a collection about hesitation, unfinished moments, and the ache of what might’ve been. It’s a book made for the in-between: the paused, the postponed, the quietly conflicted. I’ll be reading selected passages that explore near-decisions, soft regrets, and the strange clarity that sometimes comes from not choosing at all. If you’ve ever lived inside a maybe, this one’s for you.
123 Main St., Vail, Colorado
Register and confirm your seat
Future gatherings will take shape slowly—intimate readings, soft conversations, and the kind of events that feel more like shared silences than schedules. Some will be in cafés, others in bookshops, maybe even under trees if the weather is kind. Wherever they happen, they’ll be built for presence. For sitting with the words, not just hearing them. If you’re the kind of person who lingers after the last page, you’ll belong there.
Join me for an Evening of Poetry—slow readings under soft lighting, where the words are meant to be felt more than heard. This won’t be a performance. It’s a quiet unfolding. I’ll be sharing pieces that haven’t yet found a home on the page, along with selected works from past books that still hum when read aloud. Bring your stillness, your notebooks, your ghosts. The poems will do the rest.
To mark the arrival of the newest book, I’ll be reading select passages aloud—some tender, some unfinished, some that nearly didn’t make it in. This won’t be a launch so much as a letting go. A way to share the work before it fully belongs to readers. If you’d like to hear the words before they settle into silence, come listen. I’ll be there with the story, the breath between sentences, and maybe a few pages I’m still not sure about.
A space for readers, writers, and quiet thinkers to come together without pretense. We’ll talk about books, maybe life, maybe nothing at all. Bring whatever version of yourself feels real that day. There will be tea, gentle conversation, and room to just exist among people who feel the world a little too deeply. Sometimes that’s all we need. All while we give thanks.