I recovered from my woozy-wobbly morning relatively well…and managed to make a grand showing down at the Geary-designed offices of Conde Nast. How chi-chi it was! How delightfully I didn’t fit in! I ate tiny expensive hors d’oeuvres, toured the Geary cafeteria, and learned (most importantly) that Wired is Conde Nast’s only SF magazine, and that Bon Appetit and Architectural Digest are their only Los Angeles mags. I pointed this out to Lindy, and tucked it in my “good things to know” brainfile.

This afternoon I phoned Donna B, the editor who had expressed interest in the Doctor Ruthless book. She told me she’d passed my promotional material on to an editor who she thought would like the idea, and then asked me “You’re SURE you’re not interested in doing book promotion in New York…?” (she had very directly asked me last Friday what my plans were, and I’d indicated that I was aiming for the west coast).

I hemmed and hawed and said no, I hadn’t ruled anything out, it was just a question of getting a job that paid enough for me to afford living in New York. She responded sympathetically. I asked her to keep me in mind if she heard of anything, however. She said she would, and told me that she thought I had a knack for publicity. I thanked her profusely and blushed.