I didn't go to a club tonight, but luckily YOTEL is delivering the club to me - now that's full service, right? Yes, I'm being utterly sarcastic; their outdoor terrace may be a fun place to club for clubgoers, but not so much for the people living above it. Luckily I have earplugs; unluckily, I'm definitely getting a cold, so my last night in NYC may be a long one.
But today was v. v. good, even if I woke up feeling like death and had no desire to go to anything at all. I had to be at the convention at nine, though, so I dragged myself out of bed and into something vaguely respectable (okay, I wore jeans) so that I could sit in a conference room all day. Today's session wasn't a corporate meeting; I was spying on the self-pub crowd, where I ran into people who know me as my alter ego and have no idea what company I work for (although it said my real name/company on my badge, so my secret is getting out). Some of it was good and some of it was completely and utter dreck, as is anything I attend on self-publishing. The good mostly outweighed the bad, but by the end I was so tired and bored that I couldn't even feign interest when one of my San Francisco romance writing friends was on the closing panel. My bad.
However, the evening was substantially better; I won't name drop because that's obnoxious (and you wouldn't know them anyway unless you read a lot of contemporary romance), but suffice it to say that I hung out with two wildly successful self-published authors in the penthouse suite one of them had at 5th and 41st, overlooking the New York Public Library and Bryant Park. omg it was beautiful. The woman was there with her husband and daughter, who now runs her own book publishing/assistantship/consulting company, and so the five of us hung out for four hours and discussed the industry in great detail. It was totally worth it and I had a great time, even if I'm sure I'm going to pay for it next week when this cold turns into bronchitis.
Bella and I finally left around ten, and we shared a cab back to this side of town. Then, I did work for the man for the past two hours like the sad, stupid little corporate drone that I am. But I wanted to get through that stuff tonight because I am freeing up tomorrow to write incessantly - it's my only free day for awhile, and I may have just committed to an editing slot with my editor in August, which means I need to get cracking immediately. So I think I'll sleep until I wake up on my own, shower, pack, go out for lunch and work at a cafe for awhile, and then maybe head to the airport early and buy a day pass to the United lounge so I have a quiet place to work and a place to shower off the grime induced by NYC's 100-degree heat. Sounds like a plan, yes? Maybe a plan for a total workaholic, but a plan nonetheless. Goodnight!
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