No café action, but…
I received an e-mail from a woman in Pennsylvania with whom I had been in occasional correspondence with since she had stumbled upon “Outlaws, Rebels…” in a museum bookstore. She’s an artist (and fan of UG comix), and reading it, she felt, had changed her life. Now, having read “every single word in ‘Messiahs, Meshugganahs…,’” she wanted to tell me what an extraordinary book it was and what a significant writer I was, in language so laudatory I wouldn’t even direct my way in fantasy or day dreams.
She also wanted a signed copy of every book I’d written, even those she already had.
So many Bob Levins on the Internet; I'm the Bob Levin who writes.