remember the xmas gifts you sent me this past year? not just the mistletoe that had turned into cheese by the time my post office got it to me, but the books -- the diaries of dawn powell, and three lovely old volumes by louis auchincloss, whom you know i love. i just finished the rector of justin and adored it.
you may remember that one of the books you sent was a short story collection by auchincloss, and the copy you sent was a pre-release press copy -- from 1964! it even had a photo of the author taped inside the front cover. it's particularly cool. but you know me. i thought i might be able to get it EVER so cooler.
it wasn't hard to find auchincloss' home address. i wrote him and said, with his written go-ahead, i would mail the book to him for inscription, with return postage paid. i was really just hoping the man was alive.
today, this postcard came. it took a little time to decipher, but here is what i read: "Yes - Of course I'll sign the Book, but if it weights more than 18oz, it has to go to the PO and I won't wait a 1/2 hour in line -- Auchincloss"
(he's eighty five, you know).
soooooo, we're off to fed ex the book, and send a note along ahead so he can simply have the package picked up at his address. pretty cool, isn't it? hell -- having read two of the three books you got me, the man is rapidly approaching my proust/capote standard of reverence. thanks! (the dawn powell is good too.)