This is my goodbye post for Murderati. I adore you guys, and have had great fun writing here, and everyone in our gang has been lovely to me through some really tough stuff over the last few years: my dad’s suicide, my divorce, my move back to the East Coast, my struggles with writing and winter and all kinds of things. I will miss you all a great deal, and I thank you for your many kindnesses.
But I am really, really tired. I’m so happy to be back in my hometown of Manhattan, but I’ve moved three times since August while doing three extra rewrites on my fourth book (with my genius of an editor, who is a patient, patient woman,) and am just now getting my life back in order in many, many ways that require some better attention from me in real life.
And, hey, all kinds of really good shit has happened too. Like, after several years of this…
I’m hanging out with a really cool man who is great fun and very funny and kind, not to mention pretty damn “easy on the eyes,” as Grandmama Read used to say. And he is also NOT a psycho Republican, which is a huge plus after my last foray into the whole Y-chromosome thing.
So now when I think of The Lone Ranger, I think less of it pertaining to my social life, and more just for basic entertainment purposes:
And I DID finally finish that fourth book, which is called Valley of Ashes and is due out from Grand Central Publishing next August:
Plus my third book comes out in paperback this month, and I love the cover Grand Central did for that, too:
Last June, my kid graduated from Exeter,
and she got into her first-choice college,
and just made the Dean’s list at the end of her first semester, which is pretty fucking cool if you ask me.
Also, she just came out at the Junior Assembly in New York the week before Christmas, which my mom and I also did back in the day.
That was a rather stellar evening…
That’s my kid Grace on the right, and my niece Sasha on the left. I utterly adore both of them, and their escorts were terrific. (Jill Krementz took this photo. She is amazing and so very, very talented, and was very generous to document the evening for us.)
Here’s Grace in the Pierre Hotel ballroom, with her escort Dan:
Though I did miss having Lester Lanin there…
Especially since the new band didn’t throw beanies out onto the dance floor…
(Yeah, I just put Woody Guthrie and Lester Lanin in the same blog post. That’s how I roll. Because it is entirely possible to be a deb and anti-fascist. Just ask Eleanor Roosevelt.)
And I finally live in the neighborhood I’ve been wanting to hang out in for about the last year and a half: Inwood, on the far norther tip of Manhattan, just above the Cloisters:
It’s really beautiful here, and everyone is nice, and what with my apartment being a fifth-floor walkup, my ass is looking rather splendid these days. Which is pretty good, especially coupled with the cheap rent…
I mean, seriously… you look at this, and you don’t think “New York City,” right? It’s a very nice place to come home to on the A Train.
Okay, Duke Ellington is not actually ON the A Train in that video (because, hello, the A Train is a SUBWAY,) and I live way the hell above Sugar Hill in Harlem, but still, it’s a pretty nice tune to hum to yourself when you’re going express from 59th to 125th on your way home, you know?
Also, I think I have FINALLY relearned how to get off the 59th Street Bridge and onto the Long Island Expressway, which is the free way to get to the island and a pretty fine time to sing “The 59th Street Bridge Song” to oneself…
So, no worries about me, if you’re inclined to worry. I’m happy, I’m just exhausted.
I wish everyone a most wonderful 2012, and happy trails, and all good things… thank you for everything, you guys rock.