One week in print...

It's been a week since my book was published and like most authors, I find myself trying to make sense of the crazily exaggerated ups and downs.

One quick anecdote: I was on the subway a few days ago—the uptown “C” train to be exact, when a very pretty woman sits down next to me. I am struggling to keep my eyes on the New Yorker piece I'm reading, but I can't help noticing (No--not what you think) that she has pulled out the previous week’s New York Magazine and is flipping distractedly through it. Now I know that right there in the back of that very magazine is the Q&A I had done featuring a big old picture of my smiling mug.

“Oh man—“ I thought to myself, “I’m finally gonna have that crazy experience of not only having my picture in New York Magazine, but actually being recognized…” (Moi? Venal? You Betcha!) So there I am all atwitter as she finally turns the page, glances down, wrinkles her little nose slightly and, without so much a pause, flips to the following page (a cool picture from the 50’s of some longboard surfers catching a wave). We are already at 59th Street, just one stop from home and this is more than a week after the magazine has come out, and right there I'm seeing my chance at that movie experience slipping through my fingers.

There is a solid minute while I ponder.

And then, as the train hurtles through the dark tunnel, I very very gingerly give her a tap on the shoulder. “You just missed the best part of that whole issue.” I say as she looks at me perplexed—doing that understandable evaluation of whether or not I am a sex predator or pervert or something.

I pass it seems.

She gently offers me the magazine and I quickly flip back a few pages, indicating with my eyes that this is the important page.
“Thanks.” She says. And then smiling with recognition “Cool.”

The train rumbles to a stop. I get up.

“Thank you for letting me, make you, make my day.” I say.

She smiles--At least I think she does. And I get off the train.