Spent today walking around Philly, falling in love with this city all over again.
You think I’m kidding. You hope, given the saccharine sentiment, I’m kidding. But I’m not. Jordan and I lived in Philly for 4 years several years ago, and I was always a Philly fan. Coming in on the Amtrak train late last night, gazing at the bright-lit boathouses across the Schuylkill River, I was beset with nostalgia. Philly: city of my youth! City of this nation’s youth!
Okay, I’ll stop.
But just to say: woke up here to a beautiful sunny day, and walked and walked and walked these wonderful red-brick streets. Stopped in at newsradio KYW 1060 to record a podcast (on-air tomorrow), and signed books at Barnes & Noble on Rittenhouse Square, where Diane, the fabulous fiction buyer, told me I was thus far “a proven seller.”
In a true fit of nostalgia, I ducked into a tourist shop and purchased an Eagles t-shirt (for Jordan) and a LOVE mug (for me). Then I got talking to Evan, the store owner, and one thing led to another, and I told him I was here for a book tour, and I showed him my novel –yes, I do keep one ready in my purse, because you just never know–and Evan was so excited, because he’d never met a real author, and I was so excited, because I was being called a real author, and we were both thrilled. Just as I was leaving, Evan asked if he could have my autograph. Well, who am I to refuse? He ran to the back of his store and came back with a threadbare autograph book. “I’ve had this since I was 14,” he told me. “Milton Berle’s in there.”
What else is there to say but:
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