"Sometimes it is the smallest thing that saves us: the weather growing cold, a child's smile, and a cup of excellent coffee." - Jonathan Carroll
It's been a difficult week, in terms of dealing with the Life Stuff that has brought me to New York -- but any week that ends, as this one has, with Ellen Kushner, Delia Sherman, Catherynne Valente, Theodora Goss, Lev Grossman, Kat Howard, and C.S.E. Cooney sitting in the the livingroom at Ellen & Delia's flat (where I'm staying) talking about books and the art of writing can by no means be considered entirely bad. It's good to be back in the publishing community again, even under these less than ideal circumstances.
It would be all too easy to focus only on what's difficult right now, ignoring the gifts that the city throws up daily: friends and colleagues, good American coffee, the particular frisson of walking down streets that echo with years of one's personal history. I miss my home and the woods of Devon with an ache as physical as heartburn...and yet there is also value in rediscovering the person that I used to be, back in the days when this was home and these were the trees I walked among. I didn't want to make this journey. But I'm here... and I am thankful for these gifts. These friends. And the damn good coffee.
Sometimes it is, indeed, the smallest things that save us.