Christine - Advances are WAY down and after your agent and the tax man take their cut, as a debut novelist who doesn't have
a huge head of steam behind you (e.g., you're not a celebrity or otherwise famous for something), you can only expect to have enough of your advance left to maybe pay your rent or mortgage for a couple of months.
One weeknight for dinner, I
steamed a
huge head of broccoli and ate it drizzled with my favorite spicy peanut sauce from Saigon 39, another Vietnamese restaurant in Midtown.
Joan assessed the crowd, lighting upon the most interesting: young men turning white T - shirts into art, pinching the material tight and rubber - banding each section until they looked like porcupines being dipped into
huge steaming vats
of colored dyes; the young woman with a bird's nest
of purple hair sitting at a potter's wheel, slamming down hunks
of clay, her hands moving nearly as fast as the wheel, cups, vases, plates, bowls, trays, appearing like magic; the elderly man in a worn blue linen suit, a jaunty straw boater on his
head, a smeared palette tight in his hand, painting a mammoth canvas
of people on a beach staring out at an ocean where a sailboat bobbed in the distance, though he himself was standing in a mowed field; the handsome young man at an old - fashioned school desk, a manual typewriter in front
of him, a stack
of paper to the side.