I’d arrived in New York in the late ‘90s, the last gasp of the glory days, although no one knew it then. New York was packed with writers, real writers, because there were magazines, real magazines, loads of them….a time when newly graduated college kids could come to New York and get paid to write.
Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn
This was me. Only I wasn’t writing for a magazine, although, that was the original plan. Instead, I was working as an editorial assistant at a well-known (a-hem, romance) book publisher. I sifted through the slush pile; I wrote rejection letters; I answered my boss’ phone.
One day, a reporter from Entertainment Weekly called. I can’t remember why exactly. But I do remember her name.
It was Gillian.
I remember because her name wasn’t pronounced the way I thought it would be. Her name wasn’t Jillian. It was Gillian. With a G, not a J. Like gill, not Jill – I made sure to tell my boss how to pronounce it correctly.
And I remember being a little star struck because I had just spoken with someone from Entertainment Weekly. I was new to this publishing biz. I was green.
Heck, I still get a little star struck talking with someone from one of the big magazines.
These days, many of the friends I made in New York in the late ‘90s have moved up – way up – the publishing ladder, myself included. Many have moved on to other things.
And that reporter? Well, I think she wrote this book.
Such a small world we live in.
Where were you in the late ’90s? How does that compare with where you are today?
This post is inspired by Gone Girl
, that I received (affiliate link).
and 
.
and a pair of 
(yours truly won the later – awesome – but that’s a future post). The evening ending with a book signing and an opportunity to purchase merchandise.
Recent Comments