I had a very good day of familiar-yet-strangeness. Familiar, because the things I did today are all things I used to do with some regularity with people with whom I used to interact frequently. But strange because I haven’t done those things or seen those people in a year and a half.
I woke up early, packed the car, left fairly early, dealt with typical New York City traffic, crossed under the East River (Battery Tunnel) and Hudson River (Lincoln Tunnel), and eventually made my way to the Albany area, for lunch and a couple of nice hours with Joe Berlant, talking books and mutual acquaintances and conventions.
Then I got back in the car, crossed the Hudson River again (this time into Renssalaer), drove into central Massachusetts, and had another great couple of hours with Allen Steele, talking mutual acquaintances, history, and plans. Oh, and books: the one that is currently in the pipeline at Fantastic Books (which doesn’t yet have a cover), and the next one I’ll probably publish (which has a cover, but doesn’t yet have the contents). Pet the dog—a LOT—had dinner while watching the deluge, and then left as the rain was letting up.
So I drove with the trailing edge of the rainstorm for two hours—along twisty, turny, narrow Route 2—to my sister’s house, and now I’m here, and the rain has gone, and I’m TIRED.