Instead of a lunch date, an editorial director and I went for a manicure. Indulgent? I like to think of it as multi-tasking. I promise you, once we picked our color (“Nasty” for me and “Tea Time” for her), we did not exchange notes on waxes and weaves. Rather, our conversation turned to the author we have in common, to new books on the Fall list, recent firings and the depressed job market, Kindles, and the recent sale of a novel that has industry tongues wagging — for the money it fetched, of course. Except for the women pushing our cuticles back and the complimentary back massage I received, it was like any other publishing lunch. And since everything sucks anyway, you might as well have a decent manicure. ?

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