What Happens When Goodreads Invites You to Lunch with Your Favorite Author
The cofounder of Goodreads sent me a message. I was one of 5 Goodreads writer/readers invited to an intimate lunch with Bret Easton Ellis in Miami Beach. I live only a few cities north of Trendy Town, so I jumped at the chance to meet one of my Top Ten influences. I even considered buying a new shirt to wear…Nah.
The luncheon coincided with Art Basel, an international art event that has become Miami's shining star in a galaxy of glimmery celebrity galas. Sitting in endless traffic snaking into the city, I wondered how intimate this little luncheon would be. Surely others would know BEE was in town and surely they would join us for hors d'oeuvres and G&Ts?
Two hours later, I pulled up in front of the Soho Beach House, a hip little hotel chain with a handful of international locations. The hotel caters to creatives and the rich who support the arts. I valeted because otherwise I would've had to abandon my car in the choking snarl of traffic.
The lobby was teeming with hipsters. As I stared bug-eyed at the willowy fashion models and black-clad rap artists, I was glad I hadn't spent my recent royalty check at the mall. I still wouldn't have been hip enough. In fact, I would never be hip enough.
Oh well. I was about to dine with Bret Easton Ellis.
Two elevators and two invitation checklists later, I was admitted to a private suite. An intimate room stuffed with food and books. There was juice, coffee, a spread of hors d'oeuvres, a busy bartender behind a tiny bar, and a balcony overlooking the aqua ocean. The small room filled up quickly.
When the double doors to an adjoining room were opened, we all filed in. There must have been 75 of us. Plus photographers. The lecture hall was filled to capacity.
So it wasn't an intimate luncheon after all. I could have worn any old thing. In fact, I had.
But Bret was fantastic. He sat up front and answered all our questions. He told us what he thought about the important issues on our minds. What did he think of Art Basel? A parody, but he wasn't sure of what. What about those annoying Millennials? Well, he lived with one himself, and was becoming increasingly angry at what he calls Generation Wuss. They need to buck up, and deal with the harsh realities of adulthood. Was he involved in the filming of American Psycho? No, but he did have dinner with Christian Bale, who remained in character throughout. So Bret had spent an unnerving evening in the company of Patrick Bateman. What about a new book? Would there be a next book? Bret's very busy now with his streaming TV show, a play, his podcast. He's already published 7 novels. You know, there just might not be another. If there is, it might be a memoir type book. Something from his past.
Suddenly, the room exploded in a godlike profusion of light. Two impossibly thin supermodels slinked to the front of the room while chanting, "Amazon is good." They wore these fluorescent bulky vests and both were armed with the latest in Russian weaponry. So outré.
Everyone in the audience held up their phones. Camera lights continued to flash until the models and Bret disappeared in an eardrum shattering cloud of smoke.
I'm recovering from my injuries now and soon will face a year or two of physical therapy. Plenty of time for all that reading I've wanted to do.
In the meantime, I must thank Goodreads for the intimate lunch with Bret. It was trés cool.
***
Mickey J. Corrigan's new novel is about girls with guns: Project XX from Salt Publications, UK.
The luncheon coincided with Art Basel, an international art event that has become Miami's shining star in a galaxy of glimmery celebrity galas. Sitting in endless traffic snaking into the city, I wondered how intimate this little luncheon would be. Surely others would know BEE was in town and surely they would join us for hors d'oeuvres and G&Ts?
Two hours later, I pulled up in front of the Soho Beach House, a hip little hotel chain with a handful of international locations. The hotel caters to creatives and the rich who support the arts. I valeted because otherwise I would've had to abandon my car in the choking snarl of traffic.
The lobby was teeming with hipsters. As I stared bug-eyed at the willowy fashion models and black-clad rap artists, I was glad I hadn't spent my recent royalty check at the mall. I still wouldn't have been hip enough. In fact, I would never be hip enough.
Oh well. I was about to dine with Bret Easton Ellis.
Two elevators and two invitation checklists later, I was admitted to a private suite. An intimate room stuffed with food and books. There was juice, coffee, a spread of hors d'oeuvres, a busy bartender behind a tiny bar, and a balcony overlooking the aqua ocean. The small room filled up quickly.
When the double doors to an adjoining room were opened, we all filed in. There must have been 75 of us. Plus photographers. The lecture hall was filled to capacity.
So it wasn't an intimate luncheon after all. I could have worn any old thing. In fact, I had.
But Bret was fantastic. He sat up front and answered all our questions. He told us what he thought about the important issues on our minds. What did he think of Art Basel? A parody, but he wasn't sure of what. What about those annoying Millennials? Well, he lived with one himself, and was becoming increasingly angry at what he calls Generation Wuss. They need to buck up, and deal with the harsh realities of adulthood. Was he involved in the filming of American Psycho? No, but he did have dinner with Christian Bale, who remained in character throughout. So Bret had spent an unnerving evening in the company of Patrick Bateman. What about a new book? Would there be a next book? Bret's very busy now with his streaming TV show, a play, his podcast. He's already published 7 novels. You know, there just might not be another. If there is, it might be a memoir type book. Something from his past.
Suddenly, the room exploded in a godlike profusion of light. Two impossibly thin supermodels slinked to the front of the room while chanting, "Amazon is good." They wore these fluorescent bulky vests and both were armed with the latest in Russian weaponry. So outré.
Everyone in the audience held up their phones. Camera lights continued to flash until the models and Bret disappeared in an eardrum shattering cloud of smoke.
I'm recovering from my injuries now and soon will face a year or two of physical therapy. Plenty of time for all that reading I've wanted to do.
In the meantime, I must thank Goodreads for the intimate lunch with Bret. It was trés cool.
***
Mickey J. Corrigan's new novel is about girls with guns: Project XX from Salt Publications, UK.
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