Ah, Mr. Pinkwater . . . you are a genius. I adore you. I started to adore you with “The Big Orange Splot.” I had to read it seven thousand times to each of my children as he or she got old enough to refrain from spitting up on the pages. Luckily, that occurred before each was sent off to school, so there was plenty of time for reading and looking at all the fabulously redone homes. We all wanted to live on the Neat Street.
Anyway, my current book is “Fish Whistle.” (Yeah, I know, book titles go in ital. Too annoying, though, with e-mail.) I love “Fish Whistle.” I can’t figure out why your parents were letting you go to the Clark Theater at 2 in the morning night after night, but it’s none of my business . . .
A friend of mine who shares my besotted feelings for you was excited to hear that you live in Duchess County. She lives in Kingston but hasn’t lived there long and is still reeling from the . . . uh . . . culture of the place. I quoted your comments about native residents and workmen. The comments only confirmed her belief that you are, indeed, as clever and funny and wonderful as she has always thought. (She’s the one who started my kids on “The Big Orange Splot.”)
I want you to read one of my books. There are only two. They are both mysteries. Do you ever read mysteries? If so (or if Jill does), let me know and I will send you one. I promise that they are not gross.
I told Susan Sussman, who knows you PERSONALLY, to tell you that I adore you. I don’t know if she did. I don’t actually know Susan, but we were talking on the phone because she got stuck with doing some interview stuff for some local group of writers and so she interviewed me. She’s nice. I can’t remember how I found out that she knows you. Maybe it was by asking the question I ask everyone I ever come in contact with: “Do you by any chance know Daniel Pinkwater?”
By the time I moved to Chicago, the Clark Theater had already become a place where nice people didn’t go. I don’t mean “nice” people. I mean nice people. So I never went.
Ta!
Jan Gleiter
There's a writer's group that has events at the bookstore on Front Street in Kingston. They seem nicely organized, and announce programs via email. I mean to show up there sometime. Many people spit up on the pages of my books.
I forget what else I was supposed to reply to. It is late and my head doesn't seem to work any more.
