I awoke from a deep sleep and did not want to get up. Angus’s guest bed was super comfy with a puffy, cuddly comforter, but I had plugged my phone in to charge in the living room and had no idea what time it was. It was still light out so I wasn’t worried I was late to the 5:30pm pre-reading meet-up, but I knew time could be running out.
I sauntered into the living room where Angus’s girlfriend, Melissa, was working on her laptop. We had a lovely chat and she made me an incredible meal of chickpea curry with fresh arugula on top. She urged me to practice my reading, which I had planned to do, so I got out my book and set a stop watch on my phone while she went back to doing her job.
I’d have twenty minutes to read, and I planned to split that between the first scene of The Gods Awoke and the first scene of “We Built This City”, to promote them both. The first scene of TGA took over fifteen minutes to read, however, so I adjusted my starting point and picked some passages to skip. Then I found out how deep into “We Built” I could get in ten minutes, and found a good stop about 9 minutes in. I read through both again and found I hit about 17 minutes total, which was good, I might go slower live, with audience feedback, and I’d want to say a thing at the start maybe like “buy my book.”
I changed into my stars-and-planets dress and brushed my hair and put on make-up, feeling anxious about every choice I made.
It was now 4:30 and I headed out. The bar was only 20 minutes away, but I had padding for my inevitable getting lost. I didn’t want to be late! And I brought my notebook and a pen so I could write if I was early.
Friends, I did not get lost, and I was so early I sheepishly walked around the block a few times so I would enter the bar at five. It seemed no one was there yet, so I sat at the bar and wrote, expecting that when others arrived early they’d see me.
But then it was 5:35! And no one had seen me! Had I missed them? Was I now late? I looked up and there were a few occupied tables in the dining room. I crept over, peering, anxiously trying to recognize… fortunately Matthew Kressel, the organizer of the reading, recognized me and waved me over. There was Ellen Datlow, and Jeffrey Ford, the other reader … and they had been there for a while, long enough to order and get their drinks! DOH!
But no one minded and I got a manhattan. Ellen got truffle fries and I suppose I can call her by her first name since I ate more than half of her fries. 😀
The manhattan was lovely, too, though I completely missed the bill arriving and being a group check and everyone paid in cash! Well, I had brought a ten and two fives in case anyone wanted to buy my book at the reading and needed change. Surely the cocktail was well under ten and the rest could be tip…
er, no. I forget that prices in New York make you ask “Is that in US Dollars?” Fourteen bucks for a single drink! But okay, maybe no one would present me with a twenty at the reading, or someone else would be able to make change.
I had brought eight books with me in the bag with my notebook, pen, and change. Four copies each of The Gods Awoke and Galactic Hellcats. I had fervent hopes that I might sell a few, maybe even all of them. It was a big event, right?
With the whole crew walking I had no fear of not finding the reading venue … and good thing too because the sign out front wasn’t lit, and I would have missed the door entirely on my own.
The KGB “red room” turned out to be up a narrow staircase from the street, a small room off a tiny landing, dim and very very red. We were the first people to enter the space, which felt like it had just opened up. There was a podium at the end of the bar, and we were ushered into the table next to it. “You sit by the wall,” Ellen said, “So everyone can see our speakers. Now what would you like to drink?”
I felt so very very special and glamorous and got my second manhattan of the night. Friends started arriving. Angus, of course, and also Jess and Christian! Who had gone to Clarion with us. And Sam Miller was there! Andrew Sayre! And my dear friend Natarajan! Cam Roberson! I had so many people to hug and greet! The room was getting crowded. All these people were here to see ME! Okay, and Jeffrey Ford. Probably mostly Jeffrey Ford. But ALSO ME.
Seats were in short supply and Jeffrey Ford and I scooted so someone could join us on our bench, but no one did, I guess out of aw for the Official Table.
I had agreed to read first, since I was reading segments and Jeffrey was reading a full short story. It just seemed that would be more satisfying to end on. “Are you sure?” he asked. Fueled by two manhattans, buoyed by all the love in the room, I confirmed I was.
I was introduced by Matthew, and felt like there wasn’t anything really to add, so I launched right into reading. It went great. People laughed on funny lines and seemed to be reacting well. I flawlessly skipped the parts I’d planned on skipping. I didn’t mispronounce anything or fumble a word. I moved on to “We Built” reading off my phone. I’d worried about seeing, about being slow to scroll, but this also went perfectly, better than my rehearsal. There was applause! And I quickly thew in my pitch, “You can read the rest of that free online at Clarkesworld, though if you want to continue The Gods Awoke you’ll have to buy it.” I held up the book again. Hint. Hint.
I took my seat, wishing I had another Manhattan, but also not sure I could afford one.
Well, if someone paid cash for a book…. I laid a few copies out on the table and got out my credit card reader too.
Then Jeffrey took the podium.
He KILLED. His story was a comedy and he read it smoothly. The room filled with loud, raucous laughter and I was very VERY glad I’d gone first. Could you even imagine? “Now that you’ve all wiped your tears of joy, let me read to you about worker’s rights and religious politics.” YEEK.
Also, his thunderous applause would have made me quite sad for the merely-loud applause I’d been happy to receive earlier.
Ellen took the podium to thank everyone and mention that I was selling books. We were now free to mingle.
My dear friend Jess immediately came up and bought a copy of TGA and one of GH. She was followed by another person who bought GH.
And … that was it for sales. Oop. Both paid via card, so I did not get my hoped-for second drink. I felt a little sad, like I’d failed, and I know that’s lame of me. I’d built up my expectations based on absolutely zero evidence.
After the reading, we all went out for dinner at another nearby restaurant. The prices were GAH but I was promised they would cover my meal plus one drink, so I got a fancy cocktail and the NY Strip Steak!
It was excellent. Mmm garlic mashed potatoes.
Full, and with promises of meeting up again with Jess and Christian for breakfast, I returned to Angus’s place for yet another exhausted collapse onto his guest futon. I didn’t even wash my makeup off first!
The next day, I barely crawled out of bed in time to meet Jess and Christian, but Angus tempted me out with DONUT PLANT! The best donuts. Oh so so good. He got us a Creme Brulee, a Dark Chocolate Hazlenut, a Raspberry and Cream, and a Passionfruit Glaze. Melissa cut them in quarters so we could sample them all.
Despite Angus’ heroic efforts, I ended up quite late meeting my friends after getting on the wrong train, only to get off and change trains and discover I was on the right one. (I was very cockily not checking directions, thinking I ‘knew’ the subway so well now! lol. Me. I had not known the correct name for the stop I was going to and panicked on not seeing what I thought it should be!)
A big old breakfast was had, and much catching up with two delightful people. We talked about writing, about politics, about weather and New York. We held down that diner booth a good long time. I had a fried egg sandwich with sausage and cheese on a very soft poppyseed roll. (NY! You so do bread right!)
I walked my friends to Penn Station, where both were catching trains homeward. We had enough time to peruse the Hudson News and pick out all our friend’s books on the shelves. Wow, I know a lot of writers, now. (There’s fame, and then there’s In Hudson News fame!)
There just happened to be a knitting convention “Vogue Knits Live” happening that week, so on a lark I looked it up and made my way to check it out. It was in the Marquis Marriot right off Times Square.
Times Square, oddly enough, was NOT mobbed. Maybe a combination of being a week before Valentine’s and February? I dunno. I enjoyed my stroll through, wondering if it had always been so wide and open.
The Marquis Marriott. DUDES. DUDES. It was … the hotel of the future. I have seen the future and it is this hotel. Plentiful touch screens told me I needed to head to the fourth floor and the elevators were just ahead.
The elevators were in this ring. There were no familiar up/down buttons, but between every two elevators there was a small touch pad. It didn’t ask me what floor, but “Where do you want to go?” And listed guest rooms, offices, restaurants, meeting rooms. I selected meeting rooms, and then it gave me a short list of floors. I selected four. It said “Go to Elevator K.”
Friends … I walked around that ring to the one labeled K, and just as I approached it, it opened. It was a smooth glass and chrome tube. No buttons inside. It closed again and lifted… oh jeebus it was glass! The whole hotel was open in the center to show off the glass elevators, which had neon lights on them. It was TRON.
I wish I’d gotten a picture, but I couldn’t do it justice. Just trust me, this was SICK.
Alas, the yarn convention dealer’s room wasn’t going to open until Friday afternoon, but I was glad I came just to see the elevators.
I thought maybe I’d wander the city a bit more, find a place to sit and write, but each decision I made after that lead me closer to Angus’s place and his futon and lo, I collapsed on it at 3pm for another wonderful nap.
When I woke in the evening, I got some actual writing done, and arranged to meet my dear friend Louis for dinner at a nearby Indian place.
Angus, Louis and I had a marvelous meal, and even better conversation, and Louis walked back with us, intending to continue on to his own place, but we passed the place his partner was, and so we stopped and Pol joined us. I had only met Pol as an occasional drop-in on Zoom calls with Louis so it was great to finally spend some time talking one-on-one with them. Pol is incredible! A working ARTIST. With studio shows! We ended up all going back to Angus’s place and having wine, some mixed nuts that Angus or Melissa (I didn’t see who did it, I only saw the pan on the stove) toasted with spices, and incredibly erudite conversation … an absolute dream of New York Intellectual Life. We discussed books, mostly obscure and wild, art, and Social Issues. And more banal stuff, too, like bus schedules. We had all said we’d have an early night but we stayed up talking until Midnight, and I did a tiny bit more writing before falling happily asleep.
My last day in NYC, Melissa made a magnificent breakfast of fried rice with broccoli and “leftovers.” It was divine. I did more writing and packed up lazily, taking a long hot shower, too.
My plan for my last day was to visit Central Park, and I’m so glad I did. The weather was unbelievable. A “We Broke the Bloody Planet” sixty degrees and sunny in February! Plus, being February meant that the park was not mobbed with tourists. Plentiful open benches, even the gazebo near the entrance I came in was nearly empty. I strolled. I bought a hot dog. I wrote in my journal and attempted to draw rocks. All too soon it was an hour before my bus would leave and I made my way down to the subway one last time.
Getting lost yet again because I turned 100% the wrong way out of the subway for the port authority, and then having to find my gate and all … I ended up in the queue to go home at precisely the time they started boarding. hey hey not baaaad.
The trip home was, alas, eventful. The very young androgynous driver seemed a bit over their head, and then got into a fender-bender in Allentown, which resulted in us having to sit and wait a long time for the police to come and Greyhound to come and everything to be cleared so we could go on our way. Poor child. It was definitely the other car’s fault – who tries to cut off a BUS?? Well, it was rush hour in Allentown.
When we got to Pittsburgh we changed drivers. This one was an old salt, the same one who had driven me out of Cleveland, actually. But his age and experience were no match for randomness. A person … laid down in front of the bus and wouldn’t get up. Bad suicide attempt? Dramatic gesture for loved one leaving town? Protest over fossil fuels? Who knows. The police had to coax the individual up and off the road before we could get going.
But I finished the audiobook I was listening to, and arrived safe and sound in Cleveland only an hour late after all that!
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