Copy-edits are usually a chore, but the Random House copy editor is so damn good that I’m actually…well, entertained.

I’ve won the Saul Bellow Prize for fiction. Super-agent Jud and I celebrated by trading stories about Rick James until 4:30 a.m. I’m trying to convince Takashi Murakami’s NYC gallery to host the book launch. How cool would that be? Forget the book–seeing superflat up close is incredible.

This time of the year always finds me antsy; an hour hitting the heavy bag in the garage does little to calm my nerves. I’m between projects, and two options arise:

1. Begin something new.

2. Flee to Isla Mujeres.

Happiness may be found somewhere between those two.

Tags: Saul Bellow Prize, Takashi Murakami

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