Recent Adventures in New York City...
July 28, 2001
Some of you know that I had been writing a sequel to The Lost Soul Companion, right? Well, I finished the first draft and decided to turn it in to the folks at Dell Trade Paperback in person! It was my very first trip to New York City, and I was afraid I wouldn't like not being able to see the sky. I thought it would look a lot like Gotham City in Batman—one colossally creepy, crime-ridden dirtball. Happily, it was no such place. And I could see plenty of sky everywhere—with the exception of Wall Street. . .
My friends Lisa and Ben accompanied me to make sure nothing bad happened to me while I was there. Additionally, they did plenty of tourist-y things with me too. We hung out in Central Park, rode the Staten Island Ferry, went to the top of the Empire State Building, saw Alexander Hamilton's grave. . . (Lisa insists on seeing Alexander every time she visits New York. . . )
And there was the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I didn't expect to start crying there, but that's exactly what happened. It was the Impressionist wing, and I was struck by the fact that we were seeing works by Van Gogh, Degas, Monet—the biggies—because of all of the quiet supporters behind these artists. I felt the presence of people like Theo Van Gogh—offering unconditional support at a time when Impressionism just wasn't cool.
But, as usual, I digress. I got to meet my agent in person for the first time, and what I had suspected is true. She looks like a normal person, but she is actually really an angel.
A confused, Italian waiter served us a delicious lunch. (In general, Italian restaurants seem to be a big deal in the city—maybe they are always in vogue like your basic black dress, but I don't know. Also, the model look seems to be in now—absolutely no make up, hair simply upswept as if you just finished a photo shoot in Manhattan and now you're on your way to the Hamptons. . . )
Finally, there was the actual trip to Dell Trade Paperback which is smack in the middle of Times Square. The lobby was cool and dark—marble, glass, chrome, and three attendants behind a long desk. After being buzzed in past the first lobby, I took the elevator up 21 floors to another lobby and another buzzing in. Despite my unfamiliar surroundings, my editor and publicists made me feel right at home. I handed off my manuscript and original artwork—that is akin to making sure your baby gets on the bus OK for the first day of school. . . So now my baby is on the bus.
By now I have peeled off nearly all of the nail polish that I so carefully applied for my business meetings, and I am already thinking of reasons to go back. I'd like to have a book signing somewhere around there for sure. Lots of things were left undone so—booksigning or no booksigning—I'll definitely be back. In particular, I wanted to see the buckets of live eels in Chinatown. I missed Grand Central Station and an interesting little folk art museum and I didn't get to do any shopping. (But maybe that last one is for the best?)