I do not normally drink champagne with my publisher while sitting on a step in the sun in a busy square in the middle of San Francisco, with me and my publisher alternately not saying anything and then babbling and then not saying anything again.
Still, it's not every day that you get told that a book you wrote has just gone on to next week's NYT Bestseller list at Number One. And it seemed a very appropriate sort of a thing to do.
Of course, just because a book is top of the bestseller list doesn't always mean that it's great. It's kind of like the Oscars. If it's someone that I like, then the Oscars mean something. If it's someone that I don't like, then the Oscars are junk. In this case, the book is fabulous and I love it. So being on top of the NYT Bestseller list is super. Know what I mean?