This was me yesterday afternoon, before the heat transmogrified me into a wet, fungal ape. Nothing–not even the coolest linen and cotton summer ensemble I can muster–can ever withstand the hellishly fetid breath of the NYC subway system (many of you NYers would agree that the subway in Summer is like traversing the alimentary canal of a giant syphillitic chimpanzee that also has a touch of dysentery). I was a wilted, sweaty mess by the time I arrived at the Upper East Side apartment that was hosting a Book Expo cocktail party, courtesy of my publisher, Tin House. Met up with my trusty agent and his wife, and met the good folks of Tin House, who were just as gracious in person. They presented me with some pretty handmade mockups of my Whitman book, which they will be showing buyers this weekend (Those of you attending this year’s BEA can see mockups of my Whitman book at Tin House’s booth, No. 1221-A).

Later on, I met and briefly chatted with Amy Stewart of “Drunken Botanist” fame. I also discovered over the course of the evening that any photos of me taken with a smartphone make me look as though I’ve had work done.

On my way home I must have been driven mad by the godawful heat, because I hopped onto the wrong train platform and wound up in Queens, on a stop where the Manhattan-bound train was out of service. Finally found my way out of the labyrinth, and helped a couple other minotaurs in the process. Got home late and had a long, defungifying soak before bed (been enjoying this new French gardenia soap lately, but that’s another story).

And so, back to the basement to continue work on this Whitman book, which should be out this time next year (It’s Walt’s birthday today). I hope to complete the book in about eight weeks. I got to play Theseus last night, but now I’m back to being plain old Orpheus. Sorry for being so boring, lately. See you sometime this summer.