Last Sunday, as we were getting ready to go to our book club, I noticed the ceiling fan in our bedroom wasn't spinning.

My husband and I have a long-running, unspoken ceiling fan battle. I thought he had turned it off, so I pulled the string. Nothing. I flipped the switch — still no spin. The light didn’t work either. For a moment, I thought the electricity was out. But other lights in the house were on.

Before we got in the car with the giant vat of chicken spaghetti I had made for our book club, a neighbor sent me the name and number of an electrician. I gave the electrician a call. It was Sunday night, so I left a message and asked if they could come out Monday morning.

Our book club was discussing "Diary of a Misfit" by Casey Parks, set in Delhi, Louisiana. The theme of the meal was

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