publisher at a restaurant in mid-town Manhattan, just around the way from Pen Station. Lunching in NYC with ones theoretical publisher is the kind of event one imagines happening, eventually, if everything works out.
I was so tired, but I couldn't rest on the way home. I walked back into my home at 9:00pm.
After I backtracked to Newark and was waiting at my gate, I pulled the book out to ogle it. The man next to me asked what I was reading. I tried to play it cool, but I failed. I explained, "I just got back from a meeting with the man that is publishing my first book. This is a proof copy. He just gave it to me. I can't believe it." The man asked to see it, he flipped through it, and he read a bit of the first chapter. Then he asked where and when he could buy it, he took my picture, I took his picture, and we exchanged information.
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