I was thrilled to read at NYU’s Glucksman Ireland House last night, with my grandparents’ old poster celebrating Irish independence projected behind me, a visual I stared at often in my youth, as it hung framed in their parlor where visitors took forever to say goodbye. “Doorknob polishers,” my grandmother called them.

I’ve heard some of my favorite authors read at Ireland House over the years–Colm Toibin, Alice McDermott, Anne Enright–and was honored to have breathed words into the same room. Thanks to Ireland House for hosting, and for all who came out, for resisting temptation to linger instead in Washington Square Park on the gorgeous, golden-lit spring evening.

Ireland House quartet