Saturday, June 16, 2007

BEA Party Girl: Weinstein Books

At the Chelsea Green party, I ran into GalleyCat Ron Hogan, which was happening so often that I was afraid his wife was going to start having suspicions about us. To give her more basis for jealousy, Ron gave me directions and the magic password to the Weinstein Books (formerly Miramax Books) launch party, which was conveniently launching at 9pm.

Ever the Party Guy to my Party Girl, Digby Diehl was game for more gallivanting. So after bundling our dinner companions into a taxi, he and I trundled just a few short blocks up 9th Ave. to the fabu Maritime Hotel.

As soon as we got into the cavernous dark bar upstairs and positioned ourselves under an a.c. vent, we were accosted by a succession of Comely Young Things of both sexes offering to take our (FREE!) drink orders. Woohoo! We had arriven!

Iced refreshments in hand, we made the rounds inside and out, and onto a deck that leads to a whole 'nother part of the establishment. There we bumped into my dear former PW colleague Mark Rotella, one of the people I had most hoped to see. Back inside we mingled and chatted--bellowed, really, as the sound system kept getting cranked higher and higher--with people such as Paul Slovak of Viking, a Big Editor whose name I can't remember (I'm sure he can't remember mine either, so we're even), a shmancy London agent (ditto), Ron Hogan (natch!) and a really nice YA author whose card I lost.

I am so blackmailing Ron Hogan (left) with this pic;
Digby Diehl is on right.

Digby got it into his head that the Weinstein brothers should be at their own party. We asked around, but they were nowhere to be found and we didn't see anyone of large enough girth to pass for either of them. They were probably at the New Yorker party.

Eventually my frayed vocal cords and aching head were no match for the pounding music, so I hoisted a goodie bag containing all of two ARCs--Bloodletting and Miraculous Cures by Vincent Lam (short stories about young doctors) and Alex and the Ironic Gentleman by Adrienne Kress (preteen historical fiction)--and shared a cab uptown.

And so to bed.

Digby reminded me that Big Editor was the nattily tailored Steve Rubin, president and publisher of Doubleday. Shmancy agent was Ed Victor--The Mr Big of publishing, per the UK Guardian, which has this priceless quote (my new mantra): 'I've always lived a life where people have said, "Look at him. Who does he think he is?" And who I think I am is someone living life to the brim.'

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