I don’t know why I was thinking of this, but as I was meeting my publisher for the first time today, I kept flashing back to all those reruns of MURDER SHE WROTE where Jessica Fletcher travels from Maine to NYC to meet her publisher.
Maybe it’s that –– for the first time since college –– I felt like an out-of-town author.
[Although technically, I was doing a stint in graduate school in LA when my first book was published.]
Somehow Angela Lansbury showed me what a bestselling author could expect when coming to Manhattan to meet his or her editor and their staff, although –– for better or worse –– thus far there’s not been a single body left behind in my wake.
[P.S. The meeting was triumph –– everyone seems to fully appreciate my endless self-promotion, which I personally find horrific and exhausting –– and I will have to focus on other mysteries such as why those kids across the street kept waving and shouting at me as I was jumping rope on the terrace.]
Menu
