the conference

The conference  I had gone to a writer's conference The room was full of authors only interested in reading and pushing their book I had brought a book called Hunger, written by Knut Hamsun, the pages were loose and kept falling off, but there was a picture  of him a stern man-looking intellectual   The leader of the meeting, a man who was  proud he had not gone to college and said he knew more than anybody else did want to read Hamsun's book, because  Knut had gone to university in Oslo Since the room was full of writers pushing their work and didn't want to be influenced  by other voices, I left In the parking lot, all the cars were white, my car was a Russian jeep called Lada, but I couldn't find it, so took my leave of the scene