Publishing Holiday Happy Hour

Hey kids -

This week's literary event of the week is actually next week, but hell, it's Friday, so we might as well start early. Sarah Reidy over at Soho Press is organizing a massive happy hour at Kings Head Tavern next Thursday so we can all drink our publishing blues away. Word on the street is that beer pong tables have been reserved and drink specials procured. Mention Sarah's name at the door to get a wristband to ensure happy hour prices all night long.

Do tell,

The Editor

PPA Party (AKA Free Booze)

For this week's literary event, I'm going the easy route. The PPA Cocktail Party is tonight, so if you can get your boss to cough up $75 ($65 for members), head on over to Fig & Olive Fifth Avenue at 6 pm for free drinks, free snacks, and tons of publicity people crammed into one space.

Pasta and Cigarettes

Awww, this story just made my cold heart melt a little. The Times did a profile piece on legendary chef and cookbook author Marcella Hazan and her husband, Victor. The two are publishing a memoir next month (her words, his translation) from Gotham Books called Amarcord: Marcella Remembers. Although the couple is known for their fights (with each other as well as people who have worked with them in the past), the article makes it clear that the two are still very much in love -- and each other's inspirations. The best part is? Marcella lifestyle includes "a parade of Marlboro Lights and afternoon shots of Gentleman Jack whiskey."

Did I mention that she is 84? I'm not sure what I'm most jealous of: her ability to cook delish food, her longterm marriage, all the money she must have, or the fact that she's 84 and still able to live on cigarettes and bourbon.

--Ladytron

Oh, Lynne

Jesus, Lynne. It's not enough that you drove both of your children into the horrific world of show biz, apparently couldn't teach little Jamie Lynne about birth control, and totally abandoned your eldest daughter when she went crazy? I mean, at least there's no "Living Spears" show out there, but I'm sure if you'd thought of it before Dina Lohan, you would have been all over that shit.

And now, your "parenting memoir" (which I believe is how it was originally shopped around) is basically a tell-all about your mentally unstable daughter who is only better because her former-boozy dad stepped into to save her? Have you no shame woman?

And now, because I apparently have no shame either, some tid bits from the leaked pages:

1. Brit lost her virginity at 14 to her high school football boyfriend. He was 18 (ahem. statutory rape. cough). So I guess Justin didn't get to take her v-card after all.


2. Brit started drinking back in the Mouseketeer days - at 13. Christ, even I didn't get drunk for the first time until I was 15...


3. ...which is apparently the age when Britney discovered drugs, after going to L.A. to record Baby One More Time (which I own and still listen to. "You drive me craaaaazy.")


4. At 16, Brit stepped it up a notch and was caught with coke and pot on a private jet.

Oh, also, Lynne feels REAL BAD about the whole thing and kinda blames herself. Yeah, so does everyone else, Lynne. So does everyone else. At least you didn't put a picture of Brit being wheeled off to crazytown on the cover. That's about the nicest thing I can say at this point.

--Paige Sexie

Drunk to Publishing

This week's literary event of the week is brought to you courteous of the crazy kids over at Drunk to Publishing. Celebrate your summer fridays (for those of you that get them) by heading over to the Parkside Lounge (Houston & Ave B) for happy hour with the rest of the slackers in the biz. Happy hour starts at 2 pm and goes until you can no longer walk a straight line...and perhaps even longer.

Do tell,

The Editor

Sangria + Summer Fridays = Heaven

The kids over at Global Literary Managment are hosting a sangria shindig to celebrate the wonder that is (are?) Summer Fridays.

This Friday, 2 pm, their offices (37 West 20th Street, Suite 805). Go crazy.

Do tell,

The Editor

Lazy Lazarus and Caipirinhas for Three Bucks

This week's literary event of the week is the One Story cocktail hour and reading held at Pianos on Ludlow and Stanton. This kick-ass reading series takes place once a month and features a special on the author's favorite cocktail. Lucky for slunchies everywhere, this Friday's reader, Andrew Foster Altschul, has chosen the Caipirinha - and they'll be going for only $3 a pop. Nice.

Altschul will be reading from his debut novel, Lady Lazarus, which is the story of the daughter of a dead rock star - and, from the portion I've read, is AWESOME. I'm hoping to finish it before Friday. Odds are against me, but whatevs.

Bonus - the author usually reads for about 15 minutes, which means no long periods of squirming silently, hoping they will finish so you can run up to the bar for another drink.

Do tell,

The Editor

See you in Cali!

I know it's Wednesday, and the week is half over, but come on. It's BEA week. We're all swamped. So the literary event of the week is, duh, Book Expo. Come enjoy the California sun and beaches by sitting in a dark convention center during the day and getting wasted on free booze at night. Here's to all of our inevitable hangovers. Oh, yeah, I think there's some panels and stuff too.

Do tell,

The Editor

Literary Event Take 2: Literary Upstart

So, remember how our Literary Event of the Week was the Mediabistro Circus Launch Party? And remember how it totally sucked? So, in order to make up for that, Slunch is giving you a second, bonus literary event: L Magazine's Literary Upstart. The slogan for the event is "Short Fiction, Cheap Beer." Really, what more could you ask for? This Thursday, 7 pm, The Slipper Room. Knock yourselves out.

Do tell,

The Editor

mediabistro = bad party hosts

I've been to a lot of parties in my time. Publicist and all. I've organized some for authors, I've attended those organized by friends. I've gone to awards banquets, thank you parties, anniversery parties, charity parties, receptions for this and that. And, really, my expectations are really never high. Have alcohol readilly available. If there is food, wonderful, but not necessarilly expected. Just really really hoped for.

So, when I attend a party held by a company that was sold for $23 million a couple years ago, I kind of expect it to be a pretty awesome party. Um, no. I showed up about 6:45, 15 minutes after the party was supposed to start. No music, no food, no bartender. A bunch of mediabistro staff members standing around awkwardly. I didn't even have a magazine with me. So I went with the old stand-by and just pulled out my phone and started texting people to look busy.

I think the bar probably opened up a little after 7...over 30 minutes into the 2 hour party. There was one bartender. He had no cash. No bar back. It took about 5 minutes per person to get your drink. The line was soon wrapped around the room - and I'm not even exaggerating. Oh, and of course, the alcohol was NOT free. So basically, I spent half the night in a line, spent money I didn't have, and met random bloggers and mediabistro employees that had nothing to do with books. I did spot the galleycat crew floating around, but all in all, the event felt more like a mediabistro employee party rather than a meet-and-greet. I learned absolutely nothing, I spent too much money on alcohol, and when I left, I was so hungry, I went home and ate a lot takeout that was very bad for me. Thanks a lot, mediabistro.

--Paige Sexie

Newman Party: The Review

Last night, the Von Tron family gathered for an intimate night of drinking with close friends. By which I mean, Ladyton, Publitron, and Babytron showed up to get wasted for free with all the other freeloading publicists at the Newman party. And, as predicted, it was awesome.

Anything at the bar was fair game, but with a two tricky (and easily loopholed) rules: no shots, no martinis. Bizarre, yes? However, the bartenders were more than accomadating in helping us cheat. A shot of makers mark because a makers on the rocks with the tiniest spash of coke. A vodka martini became vodka, vermouth, and olives with a cube of ice in a tumbler. And anything that a garnish could be added to, well, I mean it's hardly a shot if there's a twist of lime floating in there, right?

We're pleased to report that there was no buffet, but instead servers carried platters of trays around, and then placed the leftovers on the bar or back table for us to go back for seconds, thirds, and fourths. My personal favorite were the little mini-pizzas that looked like keish, until surprise! Bite in and get a mouthful of cheese, pizza sauce, and a little mini-sausage. Delish.

And, per usual, mingling with former co-workers, current friends, and new drunken besties - as well as old drunken besties, ie people that you have no memory of meeting at a past function because you were obvi too wasted to retain any info but they know your name and think that you're good friends and it's very embarassing. Not that that happened or anything. Ahem.

Moving right along. The final word? The party was awesome. Thanks again David Ratner and Newman folk for treating us to another wonderful night of drunken debauchery.

Love,

The Von Tron Publicity Family

Hello...Newman

Yes, it's time again for the literary event of the week, and this one's a great one: the spring Newman Cocktail Party! For those of you unfamiliar with the Newman party, it is one of the favorites among publicists in the city - particularly lower level ones who will travel far and wide for free booze and free food. Newman Communications is a Boston PR firm that publishing companies hire to do extra publicity - mainly satellite radio tours in my experience, but according to their website, they do lots of other stuff too. Anyway, twice a year, the Newman bunch travels down to NYC and throws a major "thank-you for your business and please continue to give us money" cocktail party. And, as someone who has gotten wasted at many a Newman party, they are AWESOME. Open bar. And not only open well drinks, beer, and cheap wine. No, OPEN. Everything is free. So don't feel bad asking the bartender to reach up to the tippy top shelf 'cause hey, it's on Newman.

Secondly, there is free food. My first Newman party, the food was amazing. I also managed to snag a spot by the kitchen, so I had first tasting of everything that came out. The second party, they switched to buffet which was a horrible decision. The lines were killer, you had to have a plate and napkins instead of just being able to grab a handy toothpick speared bite, and the food got cold and kinda gross. I can't really remember what the past couple ones were like, so I assume they were satisfactory. Or, I just drank a ton and forgot that alcohol is not one of the main food groups. Whatevs.

Point being, this Wednesday, Newman party! Come eat (for free!), drink (for free!), and be merry (a direct free result of first two).

You say "charity," I say "PBR"...

So I dragged my butt down to Crosby Street last night in the name of charity - Housing Works "First Words" Silent Auction and Cocktail Party. And, you know what, it was kinda fun. I thought the whole cash bar thing was gonna be a real downer, but wine was only four bucks, AND they had PBR for three. I like a place that caters to their audience. It was like being at doc holliday's - but without the smell emanating from the bathrooms. There was also free food. I guess I should have realized that there would be the usual cheese/assorted fancy meats/fruit/veggie spread, but thankfully, I had been planning to be drunkorexic for the night and didn't bother to eat beforehand, allowing me to take advantage of those adorable little cherry tomatoes.

I, of course, didn't bid on a book since, whatever. Like it's hard to get a free signed book. My office is filled with them! Oh, also, I'm poor. Slunch has no expense account kids, so those three glasses of wine I drank? Yeah, all coming straight from my pocket. So Housing Works better make good use of the $20 I spent (if anyone points out that three glasses of wine is $12, I will kill you. I also tipped and payed $10 to get in. So, really $25). I'm thinking that it's gonna be by 20 (25) bucks that finally helps doctors and scientists discover the cure for AIDS. Or, at least provide a couple packs of cigarettes to some hard-working, stressed-out smart person. And really, isn't that the most important thing?

Oh, and the most exciting part (not really, that was the relatively cheap booze), people I saw: Ron Hogan and Andy Heidel of Galleycat; Nathaniel Rich, author and son of Frank Rich; Mark Mangan, co-founder of Flavorpill; shiny-haired Sloane Crosley, author and publicist; Elizabeth Spiers, original Gawker contributor who now does other stuff that I can't remember; Alia Habib, publicity manager at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt; John Freeman, former NBCC president; and tons of other people that I just plain didn't recognize but I'm sure were equally important.

And, now, as 5 pm rapidly approaches, I will pretend to do work for another 30 minutes while contemplating whether I want to drink whiskey or beer after this. That is all. Happy Thursday.

--Ladytron

Ape sex, rolling gallbladders, and taco stands…

And what do all these things have in common, you may ask? Well, each represents one of the authors I heard read last night at Pacific Standard’s Monthly Reading Series – which, in case you haven’t been yet – is awesome. First off, they have a daily beer menu. Second, they have the alcohol content listed on said menu – and some of those beers get up to almost 10%. Third, and most important, they allow you to SAMPLE. Yes, sample a beer before you buy it. It’s like an alcoholic ice cream parlor in there.

And then, there’s the reading series. It’s hosted by Garth Risk Hallberg, the author of A Field Guide to the North American Family, and he looked quite dapper in his tuxedo shirt and vest. He also had a beer throughout the event, and everyone knows that I’m partial to a man with a beer in hand. Reading last night were Ceridwen Dovey, Anne Landsman, and Francisco Goldman. Ceridwen, author of Blood Kin, chose to read a short story she’s working on called “Red Peter’s Little Lady,” which is told from the perspective of an ape who serves as the girlfriend to Red Peters (the ape from Kafka’s “A Report to the Academy”). Anne read from her acclaimed novel The Rowing Lesson, giving the audience not only an insight into the disturbing world of medical school but also proving that the New York Times was correct in their assessment that “Landsman is a gambler, and here she risks everything” – and, b.t. dubs, wins.

After the readings from the two lovely South African ladies, we took a drinking break. Then – are you ready for this – Garth had the authors throw arrows at a dart board to determine what our drink specials during the break would be. It was genius. Especially when Ceridwen hurled the dart into the wood above the board itself.

Once we’d all refilled our pints, we settled back in to hear Francisco read from his new, non-fiction book, The Art of Political Murder, during which he uttered one of my favorite lines of the night: “The number of taco stands in that city could be a metaphor for infinity.” And that, I think says it all. Well, not really, but come on, it’s kind of a cool line to end on.

—Ladytron