BESTSELLERS & BEST FRIENDS
My book publishing blog, with murder mysteries woven through it.
If this is your first visit, be sure to start with “1. Let’s do it!”
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I Googled “Lajos Antal.” I didn’t come up with much. Just an address in Tarrytown, NY. The house at that address on Google’s “street view” looks pretty damn nice.
Tarrytown? Didn’t somebody just mention Tarrytown to me? I can’t remember who. I hate when that happens. And these days, it increasingly happens.
Anyway, I was once in Tarrytown for a conference when I worked at Harcourt Brace Jovanovich (HBJ).
That was back in the day when the brilliant Susan Kamil ran HBJ’s sub rights department. Irene Skolnick (later a literary agent), Doug, Jane, and the love of my life, Sally, all worked for Susan.
Susan had Sally and me over to her place for drinks and dinner. She called us “a cute couple” (despite my goofy-looking contribution). I remember thinking how sexy Susan was. Blue jeans, slim, she just had that look. And there I am sitting with the love of my life. Being a guy in his 20s can be a very confusing thing.
Susan
Irene
Anyway, at this Tarrytown conference I’m at a dinner table with Irene, Doug, and somebody else (I forget who). We’re surrounded by, like, 25 other tables. There were well over a hundred people there. And as dinner ends, Irene stands up and SCREAMS!!!! Loudest scream ever. The rest of the room goes absolutely silent. Everybody, including staff, turns to look at Irene.
She’s standing there in her undies. She forgot that she had loosened her skirt while eating. Then when she stood up, her dress fell to the floor, she screamed, and now everybody was looking at her. If she hadn’t screamed, nobody, except maybe Doug and me, would have noticed, and she could have quietly and quickly pulled up her skit. The moment was very Irene-ish.
That night, Stuart Harris, my boss, offered me a ride home from Tarrytown. He had rented a luxury car service.
Cool. But I had to sit up front with the driver while two editors joined Harris in the backseat.
There’s nothing like sitting in the front with the driver, well out of the conversation, that makes clear one’s spot on the organizational chart.
It was sort of cool to be dropped off by a fancy car in front of the Subway Inn.
But here’s the thing. The year 2019 sucked. Both Susan (obit) and Irene (obit) died. Fuck of a year. I hated it.
Tomorrow: You gotta love Erle Stanley Gardner
