First, I must apologize to everyone at MSW. I have been out of town and haven’t commented on a single blog.  And, boy, have I missed some terrific blogs!  You guys, including our visitors, ROCK!

Just over two weeks ago I was bemoaning to myself the fact that I wasn’t completely finished with my current writing project and I had to go to BEA.  I was honored to be asked to sign books for Harlequin but I knew I should be at home working.  Well, my dear friend and neighbor suggested that she go with me and drive while I work. Understand that NYC is a 16-18 hour drive from here.  But I thought that sounded like a good deal.  So early on Wednesday, May 27th, we took off for the Big Apple.  What a lucky girl I am to have such a good friend. The first day we drove as far as Fairfax, Virginia, and I worked a bit on the way. We spent the night in a nice but reasonably priced hotel and got up early the next morning to visit the antique shops in this fair city. I must interject here that my friend bought the house directly across the street from me so we’re both renovating century old mill houses. By lunchtime we had driven over to Alexandria’s Olde Town to check out the antique stores there.  Too expensive for our pocketbooks but I did buy my nineteen-year-old daughter a lovely vintage dress very cheaply. Then we headed to Brooklyn and actually got there before dark.

My neighbor is very, very good at finding stuff and places on the Internet. She had discovered this wonderful place in Brooklyn via the Internet called “Eddie’s Swap Shop.”  The shop is run by retired NYC firefighter, Eddie, who salvages “stuff” from buildings being demolished and he also accepts things folks drop off (stuff they don’t want or need anymore). Of course the shop wasn’t open when we arrived at the address given and it wasn’t exactly in the greatest area, but we’d known that ahead of time.  Our objective was to locate the shop.  There was no sign or telephone number; however, the GPS thingie insisted we were at the right location. (BTW, I will have one of those GPS thingies–they are amazing).  Being me, I hoped out of the truck and knocked on a few doors and learned that we were indeed at the right location and that Eddie was usually there during daytime hours. So we drove on to Harrison, NJ, and our hotel for the next couple of days.  The hotel in Harrison was much cheaper than staying in Manhattan and they had free parking for my friend’s truck. There was a train station nearby and 33rd Street was only a ten or so minute train ride away.  Perfect for us and our pocketbooks.

On Friday I took the train into Manhattan and met my wonderful new agent for the first time. We had breakfast at Norma’s in the Parker Meridian Hotel in midtown. My agent is not only gorgeous, extremely intelligent and knowledgeable about the business, she’s also gutsy.  Love her!  After breakfast we rode to BEA together during which time a very nice Cuban taxi driver (more than 70 years old) gave us his secret for remaining wrinkle free–a few drops of Olive Oil on the face each night!  Then I arrived at the revered BEA. Now this was my first time so it seemed WAY big to me. I walked around for a couple of hours then went to the Harlequin booth–saw Heather Graham and Joan Johnston and Rebecca York.  I signed books and spoke to lots of people who’ve read my books and enjoyed them.  It was intense!  After that I had a little free time to look around some more before going to SoHo to meet my Harlequin editor for dinner. After a very nice dinner, the two of us strolled to Harlequin’s lovely 60th anniversary bash at an art gallery where original cover art was displayed.  Lots of fun!  My friend, the driver, joined me there and after the party we walked around Little Italy and then made our way back to the hotel in Harrison via the same train (the Path) I had used to get there that morning.

Needless to say, I didn’t get any work done on Friday.  Saturday morning we rose bright and early to head to Brooklyn and Eddie’s shop. We figured we’d check out some stoop sales (yard/garage sales down here). We’re from Alabama and down here the sales start around seven a.m.  Not in Brooklyn, baby.  They don’t start until ten or eleven.  So we parked and just walked around gawking until Eddie showed up to open his place.  We were in hog heaven! Stuff stacked to the ceilings and wall to wall. Eddie not only had lots and lots of stuff, it was all extremely reasonably priced.  The folks who live in the area would stop in to say hello as they walked by–it was just like a little community here in Alabama. They were all so nice to us and just mesmerized by our southern accents (or maybe by the fact that we looked like coal miners from digging through some of the stuff in the basement).  My neighbor and I spent the day getting to know Brooklyn. The flea market and everything! It was amazing and exhausting. The only bad thing to happen was that I laid my perscription sunglasses down in a yogurt shop and someone took them. That p*** break (I really, really had to go!) cost me four hundred bucks! But it was my own fault. I should have put them in my purse in the case where they belonged.  Oh well, they were Fendi and my 50th birthday present to myself–I hope whoever took them enjoys them.  We ended our day in Brooklyn by going to Grimaldi’s Pizza (near the Brooklyn Bridge and supposedly the best Brooklyn Pizza anywhere). After standing in line for more than an hour (during which time my dear friend looked for a parking place) I have to say the pizza was awesome.  We both slept like the dead that night.

Sunday morning by nine a.m. we ventured to the Manhattan flea markets (they opened a little earlier) in Chelsea and Hell’s Kitchen.  All were fabulous.  I found some goodies for my house and a couple more vintage dresses for my teenager (as well as a vintage Sassoon shirt for her fella–all very, very cheap).  It was wonderful–except, of course, I wasn’t working. My friend had discovered on the Internet that Scranton, PA, was only a couple hours north of NYC and had this fabulous 40,000 sq ft warehouse full of neat stuff.  She was driving, so heck we went–with the help of the GPS thingie. We arrived fifteen minutes before the place closed. It was AWESOME. It’s called Olde Good Things. The people were amazing and the prices were incredible. We made the decision to stay the night in Scranton. By ten 0′clock Sunday night we were in a motel and I knew I was going to be in really big trouble if I didn’t finish the last couple of chapters on the project that was due in my editor’s inbox on Monday. So, my sweet neighbor went next door and returned with coffee and donuts. I devoured both and set in to finish.  At 6:15 am on Monday my neighbor awoke and asked if I’d finished.  Bleary eyed and slightly comatose, I assured her I had.  I crawled into my bed and instructed her to wake me in two hours. By nine that morning we were back at the huge warehouse. I, however, could not go in. I had to proofread the manuscript. So I did. It took me three hours but I got’er done, mailed in and I could still walk.  For the next several hours I dug through tons of iron railings, fencing, etc, in a massive iron yard. I discovered some of that lovely 16 inch tall iron fencing (from the 1800′s) for one of my flowerbeds. The price was so cheap I couldn’t believe it! I was so proud! The folks who operate the place were so friendly and helpufl.  Any patrons who came by would hunt my friend and I up just to chat with us because we were the ladies who’d come all the way from Alabama.

Finally, we came back home–several days later than projected.  It was an exhausting but incredible trip.  We did the whole thing very cheaply (stayed in places we could afford and ate at inexpensive restaurants) and we had so much fun. I got the project done and didn’t miss a moment of fun. I realized as I rolled back into my hometown that I am an incredibly lucky girl. Not only had I been to BEA, but I’d visited all those wonderful places in the NYC area as well as up in PA and met all those terrific people.  Ten years ago I could only dream of doing such things.  No matter the ups and downs of this business–and, honey, there’s plenty–I am one lucky girl.

© 2009, Debra Webb. All rights reserved.