Last night, instead of going to the usual KGB reading, I met Robert Levy in Carroll Gardens (and oggled his beautiful new office in his beautiful new brownstone), then walked up to Bookcourt for a book launch: the very awesome and multi-talented Ivy Pochoda read from her first novel, The Art of Disappearing. It was a perfect reading: there was wine, cookies dipped in chocolate, dried apricots (a surprising choice, but it worked!), and Ivy read two short selections from the novel – nothing very long, but the perfect length to keep everyone interested. The only complaint I have about the evening was the fact that there weren’t enough chairs for everyone – I ended up sitting on one of those little stepping stools that bookstores usually have. It gave my rear end some rather severe ridges. Er, ok, that was TMI… Also, being in a bookstore is of itself a danger – I spent much of the time ignoring people as I frantically took notes on my cellphone of all the books I wanted to buy. It was sad, especially considering I can’t afford to buy books right now. Er, sorry, Ivy – I owe you wine and cookies!
Afterwards, we parted company and I went back home, stopping at the Starbucks on 14th Street and Sixth Avenue for a double-shot of espresso – I hadn’t had dinner, and the wine + chocolate cookie didn’t seem to be keeping me awake. Big mistake. By the time I got home, arcs of caffeine-induced lightning were shooting out of the top of my head. Despite the buzz, I dropped onto the bed at 10pm sharp, and slept like a dead thing all night long, having many complex and awesomely strange dreams until the morning. I only hope when I have a reading someday, it induces the same wonderful dreams and nightmares I had last night. Well, if I can give people just the nightmares, that will be fine.