I haven’t been posting on the blog because every time I type one word here, that’s one word less that I’m giving to my novel, and I’m on this insanely tight deadline that I am hell-bent on meeting. But I’m taking today off from writing because I need a day to think. Yesterday I did some super intense writing that made me sad and I would like 24 hours to just be. When I look at the chapters I have left to write it is all pretty much sad subject matter. I feel like if I can make it through this book, I can make it through anything.
So obviously you can see another reason why I haven’t been posting, because all I would be talking about is how sad and intense the book is, and how sad and intense LIFE is, and it’s like, July, and people are tan and walking around half-naked, and who wants to hear about my mortality issues? That’s why a certain kind of book comes out in July, and a certain kind of book comes out in November, and then if you’re me, your book comes out in January, which I don’t even know what that says about me anymore.
Anyway.
I did go out last night with KC and Brendan to Torrisi Italian Specialties which was pretty much one of the most perfect meals I’ve had in New York. Oh man, they make fresh mozzarella there. It comes to the table warm, with crisp little slices of garlic bread. I wanted to swim in a pool of that mozzarella. Every single course – it’s a multi-course meal of appetizers to share and then one main entree and a dessert plate – was so ridiculously flavorful. The food was obviously made with love. The space was small and intimate and casual and everything was timed right and we were all grinning the entire meal. I can’t recommend this place enough. Run, don’t walk, etc. (But be prepared to wait in line.)
Then Kate had been invited to Gary Shteyngart’s (who has the best-cast book trailer ever) book party, so we pretended like she was a famous writer (which she is) and we were her entourage (which we are) and we went to this beautiful little apartment in the heart of Soho with a garden where many other famous writers and their entourages were standing around drinking very stiff drinks. I saw lots of nice people there I never get to see, like Darrin Strauss who I hadn’t seen since I went to his reading at Powell’s when I was living in Portland for the summer two years ago, and he thought I had moved to Portland (which seems like such a hilarious idea now) and said, “Hey, you’re back!” Also I saw Charles Bock, who I met last December at an event at Word Bookstore, and I just think he is the nicest man, so I was happy to see him again. And I met some woman who works for the NYTBR and I was like, “Hey, can you find out why you guys never review my books?” and OH MY GOD YES I DID SAY THAT.
Sigh.
She was very nice about it though.
Today I’m having lunch with lovely Maud Casey and dinner with lovely Alina Simone and in the middle of all that I’m going to stare at the ceiling and think deep thoughts about life. Then tomorrow it’s back to the grind. I have one short chapter and two long chapters left to write before I return to Chicago mid-August (I’m subletting my place if anyone wants it, by the way), and then I’ll have three long chapters after that, which I plan on finishing by Labor Day weekend, and will lock myself in my apartment in order to make that happen and I am not fucking joking around here, people. Shit’s getting done.
