Soumeya in background, listening to Jim Crace.

Randall and his lovely wife. Catherine? Kathryn? Cathryn? Katherine?

I forgot to ask for spelling of the most varied name in the English language.

From lower left (with his back to us) Bob B., Candida, Randall (making a point about Bob's book?), Catherine (I will spell her name correctly when I learn how it's spelled), Jim Crace, Marta, and (with her back to us) Karen (reading her new favorite book).

Karla and Jim Crace in an unforced moment.

; )

Jim Crace, Soumeya in background, Marta.

The Stickrods. I love typing that. "The Stickrods."

She did not just slap him. She was saying, "Aw. G'wan!"

Once again. Good energy.

Karen has a new favorite book. Yurts and teepees and circular homes, like a Whole Earth catalog meets Architectural Digest.

Bob B. in his element.

That's Mister Fuschia to you.

Gracious host, Jim, stepping onto back deck on a summer evening.

A spirited Karla with Jim Crace.

Bob B. and Karen, foreground, with the Stickrods, Bob C. and Bill, background

Bob C., husband of Tana B.

Jim Crace, our visiting author.

Jim Crace with a bit of a sunburn.

Apparently he'd heard San Francisco was foggy.

Jim and a throng of book-wielding fans who stopped short of throwing hotel keys at him.

See above.

Jim Crace, Marta and Soumeya in Kat and Jim's living room.

From upper right: Jim Crace, Karen (in rocking chair), Karla, Lynn and the Stickrods (in doorway).

At the bookstore reading with two strangers with great shirts.