I’ve just returned from Boston, where I had a great time. Last night I was part of an event at the Brookline Booksmith, which has the most helpful and adorable staff, and where authors are invited to sign the wall of the mens room. I was reading alongside David Levithan, whom I already knew was a delightful person, and who was providing complimentary mix CDs to people who bought books by all of the authors involved. I met Rainbow Rowell and Bill Konigsberg, who are both big-time YA authors, and who not only read beautifully, but were willing to be packed into David’s Prius. Today I was part of a panel on novels with strong female protagonists, which reminded me of when I was in college and the only male student in a seminar on The Educated Woman in Modern America. I don’t know where contemporary feminism would be without me.
I also persuaded the always sensational Emily Heddleson of Scholastic to join me in purchasing Crumbs cupcakes. One of the varieties featured a Star of David and was called the Chanukah Good Guy Cupcake. Emily and I discussed the possibility of an anti-semitic Chanukah Bad Boy Cupcake.
I will always love Boston because the superb Speakeasy Theater once persuaded the Mayor to declare March 3rd as Paul Rudnick Day – if you don’t believe me, click on my bio page and scroll down to view the official proclamation. While I was intensely honored and grateful, I’d hoped that this would become an annual event, and that everyone in the city, and eventually the nation, would get the day off, to celebrate. I also pictured some sort of bronze civic statuary, and maybe my profile on a coin. But sadly, I’m pretty much the only person who continues to celebrate Paul Rudnick Day. And yes, I know what you’re thinking: in the hearts of the American people, every day is Paul Rudnick Day.
November 27, 2013
