So Torre DeRoche calls me up. Asks me to lunch. The day of our rendezvous, I’m frantically wiping counters and reapplying lip balm before we meet. We sit on a lovely terrasse because that’s what one does when one is in Paris. I don’t even know what we talked about. L
So I’m inside a stationery shop in Paris. Christophe is standing outside with Amélie because the stroller won’t fit in the store. This is a big issue in Paris. Teeny tiny lanes inside stores of breakables make the nostrils of Parisian cashiers flare even more than normal.
Boy oh boy. Having a new baby and new book makes for a backlog of… well, everything else. The lovely Amélie has provided me with a BONUS early evening nap so I can share the latest news happening over here at Paris Letters Headquarters. First, the latest bunch of letters, now av
Here I am standing in front of the Paris Opéra that I painted, not realizing that it would grace the cover of A PARIS YEAR, my new book that came out TODAY. Launch Day for an author is a Big. Fat. Deal. It’s the day when all the pre-orders become all the sold orders for this one