Miami Nice

Arrived Miami yesterday, 80 degrees and a bigger contrast to New York in one country, I could not imagine.

Spent this evening listening to Junot Diaz talk to a couple of hundred people about his novel, his work and his life. I read Drown when it first came out. I loved it. I'm delighted to say, I liked the author too.

The Miami Book Fair goes on all week but I'll fly out before Martin Amis does his signing. Nothing personal, just time to move on. Chicago beckons, though I'm not so sure about heading into freezing temperatures again. Something keeps prompting me to rent a car and drive to the Keys instead.

I'm in a little hotel, cheap and friendly. I look out towards the Port. There are huge cruise liners waiting patiently in the deep water harbor. People here don't walk so much as mooch. I like it. I like the warmth. I like the sun. I like that the wind, strong as it is, seems cooling here, not threatening. At least not at the moment. Oddly enough, Miami is probably the one city in America that knows all too much about super storms and hurricanes. But they don't look too concerned for the moment and I can go with that...

American Book Tour starts where Sandy left off...

I flew into New York on election day. I expected the plane to be full, maybe even a party atmosphere as American passengers bit their nails and backed their man, and news reports to be the main topic of the captain's announcements. I was wrong. The plane was half empty and the mood surprisingly sombre.

The atmosphere was more sombre still when my friend Tammy drove me to The Rockaways, shrouded in total darkness, the broken carcasses of boats littering the streets and nothing but humvees and fire trucks on the move. The houses were all dark and deserted, piles of sand and garbage blocked avenues, lines of people huddled together for warmth and waited patiently in line to pick up rations or just see what they could do for others.

We slept that first night in her apartment, wearing hats and gloves and every available piece of clothing. The temperature inside hit 39 degrees, one point off freezing, and all night long the sirens wailed as emergency services raced up and down Beach Drive.

The next morning, I could see why. Burned out houses, cars pile haphazardly in yards and on sidewalks, like someone had thrown them down to earth.

We shoved the two dogs in the car, one a Great Dane, the other a Pug, put the cat in the trunk and headed north to get the animals to a safe place. When the snow hit near Woodstock, I began to wonder what else nature had in store.

But when we returned the next day, already things were different. No street lights, that's true. But there were a few more folk on the streets, a couple of hand-painted signs with the kind of New York humor you expect in the movies but not so much in the face of a truely breathtaking disaster. "Gone fishing" read one, propped against the stern of a cruiser.

We walked the boardwalk on the ocean side and the sun came out. I say walked. Torn, bent and buckled, it looked more like a rollercoaster ride. It had been there since the twenties. People were charging their phones at mobile charging units. The santitation guys - the same guys who'd been working all night - were still out there clearing. Much of the garbage had gone from the streets.

Two nights later, we were eating pizza at the famous place on Howard Beach. We sat next to Brendan and his wife. They offered me a glass of red wine. We drank wine to help us sleep in the cold night to come. It was good wine, good company, and I slept well, thanks to the sanitation guys, the firemen and women, the police, the army, the guard, and not least, the volunteers, those who just stopped by to lend a hand. Respect to all, and never forgetting New Jersey, Cuba that lost 100,000 homes and all those coastal towns that took the full, frightening force of Sandy head on. Respect. 

American Rebel launch at Frankfurt

That's launch, not lunch...

Rebel will get its first chance to meet the publishers, agents, foreign rights people and hopefully, hopefully, authors at the Frankfurt Book Fair from Friday, October 12th 2012. I can't go sooner and I know it will be a bun fight, but I'm looking forward to the trip not least because Rebel's designer is going too and by chance, we both like beer.

If you're there and you're reading this, let serendipity take a hand and come join us, cause the rest is real hard work, selling and shaking hands and pounding the carpet. I mean also to enjoy whatever leisure we are afforded and above all, connect with other authors.

Sun and Rain

The first reviews are coming in, always a time to bite nails, but so far so good.

Just a note of thanks to readers, it's a big ask, ten hours, maybe fifteen or more, to step into a new world created in words.

Meanwhile, Lake Orta in the north of Italy, offers sun and occasional thunderstorms that make swimming an experience filled with drama.

Beautiful.

A body of water completely surrounded by land

...I remember the definition, 'a body of water completely surrounded by land' - I even remember the tune from watching Sesame Street with my daughter.

Now, whenever I see a lake, I think of it, even hum it!

Which means I'll be humming a lot for the next few weeks, around Lake Garda, Lake Como and a host of other bodies of water in northern Italy.

In a tent, with a bike!

George Clooney to direct 'Yankee Comandante'

http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/george-clooney-direct-cuba-yankee-comandante-334374

So, I sent him the book. Well what would you have done?

Havana Jounal - American Rebel book about William Morgan the “Yankee Comandante”

http://havanajournal.com/politics/entry/american-rebel-book-about-william-morgan-the-yankee-comandante/