I’ve been making travel arrangements recently to go to New York in August to do a reading at the Lady Jane Salon in SoHo. I love New York. I truly, madly, deeply love New York, but that love is unrequited in so many ways that it really is better for us both if we remain apart. I visit often though, I have to. And when I get there, I like to stand in the middle of the city and feel the pulse of it rise up from the soles of my feet all the way to the top of my head. I need to breathe it in, the hot-roasted nuts and pretzels, car exhaust and construction dust, drug store cologne and five-hundred dollar perfume. I have to just walk around the city, it doesn’t matter where, any of the neighborhoods will do, and commune with it. Sappy, hippy-dippy, but true.

On one particular...

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