Reportedly two Schiz sold, one to a nephew and one to his woman friend. (“A dark enjoyable ride,” says he.) He is the first of five nephews to buy a copy. (His sister, my sole niece, did too.) My estate planning side takes note.
And after only one additional phone message, I heard from that book store owner in NYC, who had my books on consignment. He sold a Schiz, two Best Rides, and three Cheesesteaks, and my check is coming soon.
Now here’s a FLASH! The new Cheesesteak edition will be, as they say in the adult-book trade, “photo-illustrated.” It was a last-minute idea, which my brother agreed to carry out. So last Sunday, before the traffic build-up for the Iggles-Vikes game, he scurried through West and South Philly, taking shots of places I had suggested. (“Most of what you want is gone,” he said. “Most of everything is gone,” I said.)
“Oh,” Adele said, “words and pictures. That ties right in with your comics interest.”
I bet W.G. Sebald never had to hear he was influenced by comic books.
Meanwhile, I’m going over copy-edits for a forthcoming article in Full Bleed (It seems I have a major problem with “that” and “which”) and taking notes on Berlin 1936, which I am to review.