In a narrow, windowless room at the University of Southern California, a group of graduate students is workshopping a short story….
While they speak, their professor, the novelist Percival Everett, sits quietly at the head of a too-large table, one palm steadied against it, his body swivelling almost imperceptibly from side to side…He talks at a low volume, but the sounds he makes have the electric quality of speech being filtered through a mike.
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