A rainy day in New York
Rain was predicted Tuesday, and it was a lovely day. Clearing was predicted Wednesday, and the sky opened. Life as usual.
Wednesday morning I enjoyed the coffee room at the Library Hotel for a leisurely breakfast and perusal of the newspapers–although the tables there are really not big enough for the New York Times, they suit the lesser stature of USA Today just fine. Then I actually got an hour of work done on the new book, 2006’s Martinelli tale, which should make my editor happy, I must remember to tell her that when I see her for breakfast this morning (It’s now about 5:45, I sleep so well in NY.)
Wednesday is the traditional day for the Edgars week seminar, an all day series of talks on a number of writing topics from When Do I Give Up My Day Job? to What the Critics Want. There’s not a whole lot of surprises there for someone like me, who has been in this odd business for, Lord, thirteen years? now, but I like to listen to friends talking on their given topic, and I always learn something.
Best of all, however, I had lunch with SJ Rozan, whom I love as much as I admire, and now share an editor and publishing house as well. She too virtuously worked during the morning, and while we had lunch we caught up on the other’s life, the state of the publishing world, and even brainstormed on a new book neither of us will have the nerve to suggest to our editor, but would knock Dan Brown’s book off the chart if we but had the time. As the song says, “The door’s not shut on my genuis but, I just don’t have the time…”
Later on, SJ interviewed the reigning queen of mysteries, Marcia Muller, who wins the Grand Master award this year. Marcia was one of the three women who started the current movement towards women detectives during the 1980s, with Edwin of the Iron Shoes. (Who were the other two? A prize if you guessed Sara Paretsky and Sue Grafton.)
I walked back to the hotel with Katherine Neville and her neuroscientist husband, had an hour to fight with my nonexistant email, and then changed for the evening outing at the terribly posh New York Yacht Club. Half an hour before the thing started, while we were all in our hotel rooms getting dressed, we had a powerful thunderstorm and the streets were suddenly drenched, but fortunately the worst of it was over before I, at any rate, had to set out. Events like this are notable not for the food or drink but for the chance of seeing people you don’t see elsewhere, even at the Edgar pre-dinner cocktail party tonight, because there’s such a crowd at that. I had nice talks with good friends HRF Keating and his wife Sheila Mitchell, Michael Connelly and Harlan Coben (anybody catch Harlan on the CBS morning show yesterday?), and a lot of others (the morning’s fresh coffee hasn’t been set out yet in the 24 hour room here, and I’m waiting for it, can’t you tell?)
Today is another full day, from breakfast with Random House (the whole house, it’s a busy time) and filming some kind of Internet thing I’ll tell you about later, and of course, the Edgars themselves tonight. I was the chair of the Best First committee, so I get to present that award, which is always great fun.
Thanks for listening to the muttering lady, I hope your day will be less hectic than mine.