miscellaneous non-BEA nyc things.

Other things I did in NYC that did not involve official BEA responsibilities:

I ate a lot of really good food. A lot. My favorite might have been this tiny little South African Wine Bar that my wonderful NYC-dwelling sister put on a list of recommendations for me. I love food on small plates, it enables so much more tasting of things. Also went to David Burke Townhouse which was marvelous and I only wish I’d been able to eat more, because those plates were not so small. The pretzel-crusted crab cake is swoon-worthy. Also there was sushi and cookies and lots of coffee. And chocolate mice, of course. (True confession: had my very first chocolate mouse on this trip. Never actually had one before. Now I have and it was delightful.)

Visited the New York Public Library, I had walked by many times and said hello to the lions but I hadn’t been inside. They have a fabulous centennial display with all manner of writerly wonderments, e.e. cummings’ typewriter and Virginia Woolf’s walking stick. Also, Lego versions of the lions:

There’s very beautiful art tucked in hallways, too, it was like getting to do a bit of museuming which I have sadly lacked in my last few trips to NYC.

Went to Sleep No More. Again. For the record, that’s 4 times for the Brookline run and 3 in NYC. And really, if this was my last time I’m okay with that, it was dark and familiar and new and strange and it’s not just every night that a man in a tuxedo locks you in a room and sits you in a chair and kneels down and lays a sword across your lap and then reads you bible verses. This was also the first time I was ever escorted from the space after the end, gently guided back to the bar to have my mask removed for me. It was a wonderful last moment in case I don’t go back for an eighth visit. Though you never know.

Also, this is what happens when you try to take a photo of a lapin in your hotel window at night, it turns all Times Square Apocalypse on your poor bunny:

It was a fun view at night, though, all glimmery and never still. I really had a marvelous week, surreal and wonder-filled. And then there were zombies at South Station when my train home got in and I had to wheel my suitcase around pools of hopefully fake blood. It likely says something about me or my week that I did not find that surprising or strange.

And now I’ve been back in Massachusetts for a while and I’m slowly getting caught up with everything. I’m moving to Boston in July so that is taking a lot of time and energy, my apologies if blog posts and email responses and such fall a bit lower on the priority list, I am trying my best to keep up, thank you for your patience.

i dreamt i went to manderley again

Okay, adventure recount time, finally! Only about a week overdue.

Last week we went down to NYC for a couple of days.

We went to see Sleep No More. Twice. Because I knew as soon as they announced the NYC run that once would not be enough. (Twice was not enough, either.)

For those of you new to the blog: I am completely, utterly obsessed with Sleep No More. I went four times when they did it up here in Brookline in Fall ’09-Winter ’10. It is immersive Shakespearean Hitchcockian wonderment and if you are in New York or able to get there, stop reading and go get tickets. I’m serious. They recently extended their run through the end of April, and I’m keeping my crossables crossed that they’ll end up going through May when I’ll be back down there, because I would go again in a heartbeat.

This production is similar to the Brookline one but different at the same time. The space is sprawling in comparison to the abandoned school from Brookline, which made it more of a maze. It was easier to get lost, which was fabulous.

The first night, I brought my agent & my editor along. I have a tendency to babble about Sleep No More & Punchdrunk and how inspiring it was when I was revising THE NIGHT CIRCUS, and of course it’s difficult to describe properly so I was thrilled for them to be able to actually experience it for themselves. Considering some of the adjectives used after the fact, I think they liked it.

I wasn’t entirely certain it would be as magical, having seen it so many times in a different space, but it was. I danced with witches and Duncan whispered in my ear. I was given a locket to keep me safe before being pushed, Narnia-style, through the back of a wardrobe. I wandered through dimly lit cemeteries and mazes made of branches and I spent ages in a detective office, reading files and incoming mail.

It is the closest thing I have ever found to walking into a dream.

And I am, of course, very fond of dreams.

There are no proper words to describe my love & giddiness & gratitude to the people who create such things & bring them to life.

 

And because I am all about themes and hotels, I decided I wanted to stay somewhere appropriate, so I googled “nyc art deco hotel” and stumbled upon the Chatwal, which happened to be running an amazing winter rate at the time so that decision was easy.

This is my fantasy hotel. Like, someone went into my brain and asked “what would Erin want in a hotel?” and came up with something like an updated, intimate, less violent version of Kubrick’s Overlook. The lobby, pictured below in black & white and teased last week in color, just *glows* in this sleek, timeless, welcoming way. It’s an art deco oasis just off of Times Square and I was disappointed only that I had to leave. (And that I couldn’t spend more time in the shower. Best shower ever. Rainfall surrounded by darkness and sparkles. Seriously.)

Each room has a copy of The Great Gatsby, that’s how wonderful this place is.

Suffice it to say, I had a lovely mini-holiday.

Also, the entire trip may have counted as flavor research for my next book. Possibly.

also, today is my half birthday & i should really have half a cake

As you may have noticed, I was in NYC for the past few days.

I met my agent and my editor in person for the first time. They are, in fact, actual people and not just lovely disembodied telephone voices.

I drank a lot of wine with my sister. I got snowed on in Times Square. I met the resident kitty at the Algonquin.

I generally felt like I’d wandered into someone else’s life.

It’s going to take awhile for this to fit on me properly. Like breaking in new boots.

And then last night, while I was on the train back to Boston, my Google alerts kind of exploded with the Summit film option announcement.

I’m thrilled about it, of course. It’s not helping that whole endeavoring to become more of a believer thing, though. Every time I think this whole journey might get less surreal eventually, things like this happen and I’m reduced to blinky-eyed deer in headlights mode and I say “yay” a lot, because I’m articulate like that.

Oh, and since some of the announcements have mentioned it as such, I should probably clarify that The Night Circus is not a young adult novel. It will probably have a lot of appeal for teenage readers & fans of YA, but it is indeed an adult-market book.

Home now, with kittens who claim not to have missed me. Fluffy little liars.