Hello from an apartment in Manhattan!
The streets here are deserted and the only levity to be found is when someone puts a surgical mask on Public Art.
I push on, living shut-in like everyone else on the planet, doing what I can to keep up the spirits of those whose lives I touch. Imagine my joy when the editor of a literary magazine that has published me in the past came back for more! The Santa Barbara Literary Journal has a new online series meant only to lift the prevailing mood of writers quarantined by the coronavirus (self-imposed or not) by publishing glimpses of our manuscripts-in-progress.
Here then, with my deepest gratitude to SBLitJo is my contribution to the cause, an excerpt of my novel-in-progress, Vanity Fair, Tribeca.