Sold two “Best Rides.”
That Berkeley author/publisher (See earlier blog) wanted to check me out. “Give me the one from the New York publisher.” (Since BR doesn’t reflect how I write now, I threw in a free “Cheesesteak.”) Then that UC English major (See even earlier blog) lived up to his promise to buy a novel once he had some cash with him. (Given what I hear about his department, I suspect he wanted to see what Old White Men have been up to,)
In other news, the home answering machine picked up one of those “I’m trying to reach the Bob Levin who wrote ‘XYZ'” messages. (These are less frequent, though more exciting, than those hoping to schedule an appointment with Bob Levine, the acupuncturist.) My mind immediately swung into its usual fantasy, which, tellingly, involves my receiving hundreds of thousands of dollars fro Hollywood rather than, say, an inquiry as to when I might be free to pop over to Oslo to pick up my award. Since the caller did not identify his purpose, I Googled his name and found he might be an assistant secretary general at the UN, a defensive tackle for the University or Arkansas, or a fellow who shared his Twitter photo with a monkey.
[Bob’s books are available at this very web site.]