|Evan Karp, president|
"Today," he said, "we filed our articles for incorporation as a nonprofit." The crowd went wild. To be fair, it had been pretty generous to people in front of that microphone all night. Karp raised his arms to explain what this meant: "Soon, the money you give us will be tax deductible. But, um, you can still give us money tonight."
It was a short announcement, but it was a big one - with potential to change the SF literary landscape.
The new nonprofit Quiet Lightning will have Karp as its president and his longtime collaborator Charles Kruger as its chairman. Their exact duties ares still unknown, but Karp seems poised to continue heading Quiet Lightning's artistic efforts. He has shown a willingness to alter the event's streamlined form and get experimental. "I like what we do," he says. "But it's been a year, and I don't want us to seem stale."
|Rob McLaughlin: "I don't advertise. There's nothing to sell."|
|Shideh Etaat: fuck yeah|
Kruger talks about holding fundraising events, hopefully attended by some of the city's A-list literary scene, and pulling in big donors. They may have the chops to pull it off. Many of this town's literati have fallen hard for Karp and Kruger, who show up - with video cameras - and pay rapt attention. If their nonprofit can monetize the love that writers have for people who listen, then Quiet Lightning, already one of the most open and inclusive of the city's reading series, could be poised to get pretty damn loud.
The packed house last night seemed to suggest they were well on their way, but Kruger waved that off. "Actually, I think a lot of these people are just tourists who were at the bar and had no idea there was going to be a reading. Now they're thinking 'Wow! I'm having such an authentic North Beach experience!'" He laughed. "But, I do notice, a lot of them stayed over the break."
Going legit was the easy part: Quiet Lightning is now a reading series in a hurry.