Bookish NYC picture postcards, all from the last three days:
Robbie-the-editor in his new beard (already scraped off, though I said that I liked it, honest!);
Rebecca-the-middle-child-bookworm, age 13, devouring sushi again and again and yet again;
Sabeth and Lee--why are marketers always so attractive, I wonder?--plus the rest of the children's division at a wine and cheese pillage;
a letter from Jane to her dear sister, Cassandra, plus George Eliot's notes in Hebrew;
Elaine, Queen of Copy Editors, in her leafy chamber of books and manuscripts;
an abysmal lot of correspondence in my FSG file (never thought that they'd keep the stuff--I'll never tell anything, ever again!);
several of Renato Alarcao's original drawings in Robbie's office, including one from Ingledove;
Liz-the-agent with a picture book starring her fat stripey cat, Magic;
the grumpy FSG cat, picture-book dummies, inner sanctums, book hoards, etc.!
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Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.