Fifth Avenue Pictures + a Podcast Interview

So, over three years ago, I spoke with Deirdre Johnson and Maria Ciccone at the Mount Kisco Public Library in Mount Kisco, New York about Fire. Only a few weeks ago, I spoke with Deirdre again and Deirdre’s sister Mary Johnson, this time about Bitterblue, and the podcast is now available for listening. We talked about writing from Leck’s perspective; my influences; naming; how fantasy can be a way to tell a true, real-world story; romance; lying; fathers and father figures; Hava; Thiel; characters, and how a writer comes to know them; advice for writers; and other stuff. And while you’re over there, check out some of their other podcast interviews!

Ready for a walk on Fifth Avenue? As always, all photos were taken with my iPhone 4S.

Here’s a candle in St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

And here’s a cathedral view.
A man doing road work.
 In a shop window, a lady wearing a lion shirt.
Closer look. 
My weirdest Fifth Avenue picture. I, reflected but substantial, am dwarfed by an insubstantial, headless, well-dressed woman who thinks it is smart to tromp on the food of doves and who lives in a world of cabs and limos, backwards writing, and one very ugly building. I am taking a picture of her and it seems that the picture is from behind, yet here is the picture I took, showing her from the front.
This smartly-dressed lady, wisely prepared for flood conditions, has her binoculars trained in the wrong direction. Oy! Behind your left shoulder! Or maybe (noting the ghost bird’s binoculars) the lady and the bird are friends, bird-watching together? If so, I would not say they’ve made themselves particularly inconspicuous. 
Two things I like about the Met: (1) the entrance fee is a suggested $25 but you can choose to pay whatever you like/can afford. And, (2) with the exception of some of the special exhibits, photography is allowed.
I would like an aura this blue. On occasion. Not every day.
Detail from Guillaume Budé (1467-1540) by Jean-Clouet, ~1536
I always like a picture of a woman with a sword. Even if I am inclined to leave out the severed head at the bottom of the painting. (Yes, I know, this was what swords were used for, cutting people. Listen, I’m taking the picture, I get to leave out whatever I want.)

Detail from Judith with the Head of Holofernes
by Lucas Cranach the Elder, ~1530

I like to wander aimlessly in the Met and see where I end up. This time I ended up in the American Wing among the glass- and tableware.

Someone with an excellent eye for color has arranged things around here.


Finally: I would like Edwin Austin Abbey to design me some shoes.
Detail from King Lear, Act I, Scene I
by Edwin Austin Abbey, 1898