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Salih, Tayeb

A Handful of Dates

The question that’s been asked a few times of me now: why don’t I read more African writers? Actually, it’s been asked more than a few times… enough times, in fact, to warrant the sort of qualifier most accurately described as MANY.

So, many times it’s been asked of me, and many times I’ve answered that I, in what sometimes seems to be my inestimable ignorance, am aware of far fewer African writers than I should be. And, in the equally inestimable ignorance of the publishers of many of the short fiction anthologies from which I ply stories to read to you… well, you guessed it.

And rest assured, this is an acknowledgement that makes me wish I were flexible enough to kick my own ass, because a story like tonight’s makes me think I should. But I’m not (flexible enough), which is where guys like Isaac are useful. So thank you Isaac, and if others of you want to introduce me to something new, send it along.

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