I’ve been running for days it seems. Kate’s book party was on Tuesday at WORD, and it was a triumphant and charming evening. There were so many wonderful people there to talk to and I felt so happy for everyone involved with it. Kate looked beautiful, and could not have read any better. Later she said she felt bathed in the glow of Greenpoint love.
The next day I drove with Kate and Brendan to Portsmouth and I talked and talked and talked. I dug deep into the story well. I told my drug stories. My drug stories are pretty good. Drugs changed my life, you know. For the better. They opened up my field of vision at the very least to all the pretty colors. I just can’t ever fucking ever do them again.
Then we read at River Run in Portsmouth with Emma Straub, and it was f-u-n. The three of us were all chatty and happy, and the crowd was so sweet and smart and enthusiastic. My Great Aunt Naomi and my Great Uncle Arnold came. I towered over my adorable older relatives. They live part-time there, and part-time in Florida. I told them I’d come back and read next October, and asked them if they would come and hear me read again. My Aunt Naomi replied, “Well, if we’re still alive we’ll be there.” As honest as a response as you can ask for in this lifetime. I come from a long line of directness.
Somehow we made it back to the house, poor Brendan driving another hour and a half after six hours earlier that day. We collapsed. I didn’t wash off my mascara and the next morning I looked like a floozy. I got up early and worked on my freelance project until the afternoon, and then we went to the beach. I wore a borrowed bathing suit, and it had a little skirt to it, and I felt a bit old and unsexy, but then it didn’t matter because the water was clean and cool and felt so good on my skin. The beach was the only place we were free from the bugs, except for the massive dragonflies lazily hovering above us. We sat around brainstorming the name of the protagonist of Kate’s new book. Kate and Brendan are so much in love. I felt high. Not all-the-pretty-colors kind of high. But close.
Later we had lobster and white wine and blueberry pie. We were celebrating all of Kate’s success with The Astral. There have been so many fantastic reviews already, with more to come I am sure. Stefan’s book also is starting to get a lot of wonderful praise. It has been so much fun for me to see how well all my friends are doing. It is more fun to cheer on your friends, I think, than to cheer on yourself. In other words: We are all fucking in this together.
Kate and I flew back today for her reading tonight in the city, and we talked a little bit about this idea on the plane. “When any one of us succeeds it all goes in the pot,” I said, and I gestured a giant circle with my hand, and Kate nodded, and then I didn’t need to say another thing about it, which is fortunate because I am just really so terribly tired.
